There was a time when the Gemminites were a proud people. When the nation of Gemmenia was an epicentre of continental trade, a diplomatic mediator between disagreeing nations, and a bountiful country brimming with culture and peace. Therefore, it was an unexpected disaster when strange and greedy peoples from the west chose to attack its western borders.

Not a warfaring people, the Gemminites were entirely unprepared for an unwarranted attack. The royalty's pleas for diplomacy were answered only by more burned villages and salted lands and, with what few soldiers that were mustered from the royal guard destroyed, little could be done to stop these western brutes from piercing the heart of Gemminia and bringing about the end of a noble and long-lived empire.

But then, mere weeks before the western invaders would lay seige to the capital, it seemed as if a gift had been bestowed upon the Gems by Vivari herself: A nation of skilled fighters from the south agreed to assist the Gemminites in driving the invaders back past the mountains, promising their alliance in return for some minor compensation. Out of time and options, the royal family hastily accepted, without this 'compensation' ever having been defined.

Nevertheless, these southerners kept their word, fighting viciously and effectively forcing the invaders back into their lands and further, gaining a few more acres of land for Gemminia and forcing the invaders to pay a hefty sum in reparation. These brutal southern warriors appalled and frightened the Gems with their savagery and thirst for blood, but nonetheless, they were effective and saved the Gem people from certain defeat.

In their awe and gratitude, the Gem royalty offered the southern Drakken gifts of land, food and precious jewels, all to be refused. The Drakken King explained that his people took joy and great wealth in conquering the nations on their borders, and had no need for the riches of Gemminia. However, during the time they spent fighting off the westerners, the Drakken had rather taken to the women of Gemminia, claiming their beauty unmatched by any people they'd seen or fought. Therefore, in compensation, the king made it clear that there was only one thing his people sought in return for their efforts: young Gemminite women.

Their request shocked the Gems, the thought of forsaking unwilling brides to these brutes sickening them to the core. However, the Drakken made it clear that their power was more than enough to take over Gemminia and everyone residing within it, and the royalty were forced to accept.

Shadow Worth, like a cruel laugh in the face of the Gemminites, was constructed in the mountains of the Great Spine, directly on the border of Drakka and Gemminia. The Drakken explained the monstrous keep away as ease of access for caravans of freshly reaped Gem girls, but the whole word knew it was little more than a way for the Drakken to spit in Vivari's eye. Its walls protruded like skyward-facing spears from the cliff face, but most of the keep was hidden, carved into the heart of the mountain. Purely Drakken architecture soared high above he ground below, high enough for snow to settle on the highest peaks. The gothic arches and spikes were constructed of dark stone and black iron, resembling the charred corpse of the mountain. Its gate was a great, hulking thing, forged from the swords and arrows of the Drakkens' fallen enemies. Its inner halls were grand and splendid, furnished in bloodied reds and plundered riches. The immense paintings and tapestries decorating the corridors were clearly created by races from outside of Drakka, each styled radically differently. However, each depicted similar scenes of Drakken victories, bloody battles and the sharp, staring eyes of Drun, Sorrak and Krenta, often with Norric poised readily behind them.

Of course, the corridors are far from the reason for the gathering of crazed and powerful warriors and cowering Gems currently present. No, the real prizes were to be found in the grand hall.

The hall contrasted greatly from the rest of Shadow Worth, with white marble adorning the floor, gold filigree on the walls, lit by grand chandeliers and framed with splendor and light. It has been speculated that this hall, having become known as the Claiming Chamber, was a nod to the Gem people, as a way of conforming to the begging of the Gem royalty to treat their children well. More than likely, however, it was a mockery; a cruel ghost of familiarity meant to cause more pain with one last glimpse of a world the Gem brides would never see again. Here, the brides were collected, and the Drakken hauled them off to a feast. It was in Shadow Worth that, more than seven centuries after the first Gems were sent to Drakka, the brides would be chosen by their respective 'husbands' and would spend a single night to complete the claiming ritual. Then, in the morning, the Gems would separate forever and begin their new (and likely short) lives in Drakka.

The sudden, jolting halt that her carriage was brought to was enough for Saisri to be jolted out of her slumber. With a bit of a yawn and a stretch, she stood, nearly banging her head on the top of the carriage. She gathered her bags and stepped out before the Drakkens had come to get her, and flashed them a winning smile as she walked into the keep. She didn’t have any idea where she was going but supposed it couldn’t possibly hurt to explore and keep her mind busy.

It only took her about thirty seconds to figure out where she was supposed to go (namely because a Drakken had come stomping down the hall shouting, grabbing her by the arm and dragging her to a bathing room) and only a few minutes more to get dressed. She braided her hair, a simple French braid, and donned a short, tight-fit teal dress. She tied a gold scarf around her waist as a kind of sash. A pair of flat sandals with the thinnest imaginable gold straps completed the look.

She opened the door, intending to walk down the hall, only to have two Drakken fall into step on either side of her, gripping her arms. "No funny business" was all they said.

Saisri supposed she should be nervous as she descended the stairs, one of the first brides on the floor. But she was actually rather excited. It would be an adventure. Sure, sure, there was always the possibility of being sold off to some monster who was going to torture her. But until then she’d just observe and enjoy the experience.

Live each day to it’s fullest, and all.

---

Murmurs swirled in the air around Sia as she purposefully strode through the halls of the keep. Of course, many Drakken had heard that there was to be a lady at the Choosing this year, but they certainly did not believe that she would be there to take a bride herself.

A small part of her couldn’t believe it either. What was she thinking?

But at the same time, she needed to remain the head of her household. Otherwise it would go to her foolish, muleheaded little brother. A male would never be willing to be married into her house. But she needed… well, she needed a companion. So she was going to take a Bride, to whatever end that got her.

After all, she’d done as much, if not more, than the males had. Who were THEY to assume that because she was a female, she wasn’t entitled to a bride?

The woman smirked to herself, her determination causing her blood to warm. An observer would notice thin streaks of light rippling across her skin, as though a fire burned under it. A skill that she had mastered as a child to make herself even more obvious as an individual, that now came whenever she felt any emotion strongly and had jokingly earned her the nickname of “Tiger” amongst her family and friends.

Sia pushed the doors to the ballroom open and walked inside, not caring that the Drakken lords may have turned to stare at her. Let them stare all they want; she was here for one thing and one thing only.

The proud woman stood among the ranks of lords, and lifted her chin, fire shining in her eyes and on her skin as she seemed to just dare any of them to comment on her presence.

---

Two blonde heads peeked out of the windows of their carriage. The ride had been rather long and bumpy and the twins had spent much of it curled around each other, as though hoping that they could, perhaps, glue themselves together to be spared of the pain of parting. But the ride was over now and they’d been sitting still, everything quiet save for someone talking outside, for about five minutes.

The door to the carriage was opened and a rough, low voice said, “Each of you take your possessions and step out of the carriage.”

The twins looked at each other and shuddered, the voice sending terror into them. Each girl had only been allowed to bring one small chest. Miry had, of course, insisted upon bringing Bunny and her flute, so both girls’ outfits were in the box that Aery carried.

Two Drakken guards approached, moving to either side of the diminutive twins. The girls unconsciously shifted closer together, recoiling from the men. Nothing eventful happened; the men just escorted the two girls to a small bathing chamber. They bathed quickly, yelping (as apparently, courtesy or not, they’d been given cold bath water) and toweled off. With the efficient ease of practice, they braided each other’s hair (a waterfall braid for Miry and a thick sideways lace braid for Aery) and helped each other lace up their gowns.

Miry chose a simple dress, dark blue with cap sleeves, a modest neckline, a sheath skirt, and minimal embellishments. A pearl necklace with a small silver locket on it, white gloves, and a pearl bracelet completed her look. Aery had gone a little more on the flamboyant side, wearing a short, poufy strapless white dress embellished with pink and blue crystals. She also wore a pearl bracelet and necklace with a locket.

“Aery, I don’t understand where you got this dress, it’s easily six inches too long for me in the hem…”
“It’s one of Mom’s old dresses.”
“But it doesn’t fit me! I’ll trip on the hem and make a fool of myself!”
“No you won’t!” Triumphantly, the bigger twin held up a monstrous-looking pair of shoes. Maybe they were shoes? That was the only explanation but they were certainly weird; instead of being flat and following the shape of the foot, they angled sharply upwards, with the back of the shoe supported by a six inch long, narrow, piece of wood. “If you wear these it’ll be the perfect length for you.”
“What in all of Vivari's realms are those things?!" Miry cried.
"They're a contraption of mine, to make you taller. I call them "Heel-Risers" because they lift your heels up and make you walk on tiptoe." Aery said smugly.
"And we ALL know how well your contraptions work, Aery! And why do you call them "Heel-Risers"? That's the stupidest name I've ever heard!" After being the guinea pig of several different inventions that had all gone wrong, Miry was not the most fond of the idea.
“They're not terrible. See? not that hard to walk in.” Aery pulled an equally-terrifying pair of heel-risers out of the box and put them on, walking around with ease.
Miry frowned, sitting on the edge of the tub and trying to figure out how to force her feet into the shoes.
It took a few minutes but she was toddling, albeit extremely awkwardly, around the small bathroom.
“See, Miry? I told you. And now you’re almost 5 feet tall!”
“Shut up, Aery, you’re not much taller.”
“Excuse me, miss, but with these shoes I am actually OVER 5 feet tall and therefore actually on most height charts.”
Miry wilted a bit, and Aery nudged her, then had to grab her to stop her from going flying. “I’m just kidding, Miry, gosh.”

The guards said that their possessions would be taken to their husbands’ rooms, and then without any further ado, two of the guards peeled off from the rest, flanking the twins. Aery practically had to hold Miry up as she fumbled and stumbled, but somehow they made it to the top of the stairs.

“My goodness, there are so many people…” Aery breathed.
“Let’s just get down there before they all look at us, how about?” Miry said.

Well, Miry made it about halfway down the stairs before there was a disaster. Her heel caught on the hem of her skirt and with a muffled yelp she pitched forwards. Aery reached out to catch her, but was then pulled off-balance herself, and both twins rolled, crashing down the stairs and going sprawling on the floor in a tumble of blonde curls and poofy petticoats. Their two Drakken guards stared at them dumbly, then shrugged and went back up the stairs. After all, it had been their job to make sure the girls got down to the floor, and well, that had certainly happened. The job description never said anything about feet-first or head-first or otherwise.

Aery was the first to recover. “That happened!” She hissed as she stood, all but pulling her sister to her feet. Both girls turned shades of pink as they became aware of the stares of dozens of Drakken and Gems alike on them. Linking arms, they ducked their heads and walked to join the line of brides, Aery again virtually carrying her sister, who seemed to have entirely forgotten how to walk in that kind of shoe.

At least now they weren’t obviously too much shorter than everyone. Just an inch or so, not the eight that it would have been without the shoes.

Lugft had arrived early to the Bride choosing this time, he was very impatient. Four brides and no heirs? Not even a girl? The more gossipy(and bold) Drakken jeered at him out of earshot, but Lugft hardly cared, he was far more angry at himself... four brides??!! How had he lost four brides before he had even one heir??!! The first one was understandable, more than a few Drakken accidentally kill their first bride, it had taught Lugft he can never get too violent with the Gem women, too delicate. His next bride had taught him a second important lesson, never only get one. Seeing as she died falling from her damn horse, having two brides meant if one died he had a second, and therefore did not need more. His third, most recent lesson was the one that was really pissing him off. They cannot be allowed to bond... at lest not like his last two had, they had committed a tandem suicide in his bed whilst he was away... he had flayed their guards of course but that had hardly even taken the edge off of his anger.

He had arrived at castle Shadow-worth quie early and quite impatient. In retrospect he was not certain why he was so early, he didn't think he cared about which pretty Gem he chose... though in truth that was not correct. He had arrived early because none of his previous brides had... they were all missing a certain... something. Lugft hated not knowing what exactly he wanted, it made it harder to take. He had known what weapon he wanted, the exotic pike was with him, folded oton his back. He knew when he wanted a trophy from a powerful foe... that was it! A trophy! None of them had been... right for trophies. He wasn't sure what made a bride worthy to be a trophy but hopefully he would find it here today. As he mused on this, many of the other Drakken nobles around began to mutter catching Lugft's attention. The massive Drakken turned to see what all the commotion was about, and smiled as he saw none other than Siadamkiru striding purposefully into the hall. Unlike many of the other men in the room Lugft was hardly surprised to see her, women had taken brides before. Though he wondered if she had the stomach for it. Curious, he decided to strike up a conversation with her while they waited.

Lugft was in his regular attire, that is to say a leather coat and silk shirt opened to reveal his pristeen chest along with his more military pants and boots. Why did he diplay his chest so openly? Well, he didn't talk about it, but most people were smart enough to guess. His armor was similarly open, and the fact that he had not a scar on his chest spoke of his martial prowess, it was a challenge, and a show of his strength and abilities. He came to stand next to Sia, smiling, "So, the heir of the Beneni family arrives to select her bride eh? It is good to see you Sia, been well?", simple small talk whilst they waited for the brides to begin their march.

When the brides did finall arrive, Lugft paid rapt attention... he was looking for something. The first bride out was an abnormality, confident, even happy as she walked out on the stage, interesting but not what Lugft was searching for. The next two entered in an... interesting manner to say the least of it. The two seemed to have had a mishap on the stairs and tumbled down atop one another onto the stage, one of the twin Gems hissing a small quip as she stood up. A few Drakken began laughing loudly, but Lugft almost couldn't hear them... one of them, strangely enough for they were twins, caught his eye. The first up, ever so slightly taller than the other, who had laid her little quip... this was one of his trophies. As the two girls stepped into line Lugft decided to make his intentions known, possibly disuading a fight. He stepped forward, snatching up the taller one's hand, and lightly kissing it, smiling up at her, "Welcome to Darkka, my darling.", he let her hand drop away and returned to his position beside Sia... he had found one bride with that unknown quantity, now he hoped there would be another.

His brothers had insisted on coming. It seemed lately that Exon couldn't walk to the front door of his home without one or the other making an appearance. Usually both, as neither Atreyu nor Panitra wanted to allow the other any extra time with their little brother. Knowing that whichever he ended up favoring in the coming years would be the head of the family. And the other would be dead or worse. They always had alternative reasons of course. This time, it was:

"Because little brother, what do you know of brides? You might pick one that breaks on the first thrust,"

"Ah, Atreyu, I don't think Ex knows about that part yet,"

It would have been pointless to argue otherwise, it would only encourage the conversation, so much to their disappointment, he shrugged.

And they all knew that they were trying to win his favor, they just didn't want to say it. Mostly it was suffocating and left him longing for extended time away from home in the field of battle. But when the current head of house calls you back to claim a bride, you came.

They arrived on time, very few girls were on the floor, yet both of his brothers jumped right into pointing out the flaws and desirable traits of every single Gem they passed. Usually making a point to have the girl surrounded on three sides as they did so. Granted, Exon tended to take everything with a grain of salt. Sure, both of his brothers wanted to be the one who spotted the bride he was grow to favor, yet neither of them wanted to help him find one that would actually be useful. Despite having over thirty years and 10 brides between them, neither of his brothers had managed to secure any heirs. It was mostly their own doing, neither one of them seemed to be very gentle with their belongings. Atreyu's current bride had had so many miscarriages that Exon was convinced she was finding a way to do it on purpose. Panitra was currently without a bride, as his last one lept from an unguarded window.

They were looking for something pretty, fragile and temporary. He was looking for something that didn't seem like it was about to cry.

Perhaps it was because he'd never been looking for a gem for himself, but the first one that walked out seem....like a possibility. His brothers both shot her down at first, pointing out the muscle tone and the tanned skin. Clearly she wasn't meant to stay inside like a good little bride and would be nothing but problems. But problems at least got out of bed in the morning. Ignoring his brothers he approached the girl. "Hey Gem," he said "Stop," ordering her to stop moving so he could look over her one last time before making his first selection. He circled her before a quick. "I guess you'll do," Exon took a hold of the girl's arm, before dragging her back over to his brothers.

"Ex," said Atreyu, looking the girl up and down. "Come on, little brother, you should know that they send the bottom of the barrel out first. And you choose the very first one that comes out? I guess it is too late now, but don't worry, just you wait and see, we'll find you another one that will make you wish you would have held out for two,"

Exon just rolled his before glancing over at the bride who's arm he was still clutching. Deep down, he was...kind of excited to be holding the girl, knowing that she'd be coming home with him. That she'd be sharing his bed and raising his children. Then he remembered something that was...probably important. "What is your name?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at the girl.
@RomanAria

The column advanced slowly towards the Shadow Wroth; Zakroti, his grandfather Nastaki, his brother Qeynate and his niece and ward Ayltam, rode dead centre, two by two. The cold air of the mountain bit at their flesh and Ayltam, who was not used to the mountains, was shivering in spite of the thick wolf skin cloak she had wrapped around herself. Immediately behind them rode a man with a cavalry standard flying the Unalim colours and sigil; A red and blue standard divided party per pale with a white Wyvern emblazoned onto it.

Ayltam, ever the enthusiast for architecture, had wanted to see the Shadow Wroth in person and Zakroti obliged, on the condition that she behave herself. She was still very young for a drakken; Indeed, she had just turned 18. Of course, she had been surrounded by death from an early age; It was Zakroti who had killed her parents, after all. But Ayltam had not been old enough to even recognise her parents or know what was going on at the time: she was now old enough to see the reality of the world and the Wroth was a very harsh reality to be shown.

Ahead of the four relatives, eight men clad in plate armour rode in two lines of four, red cloaks flowing down their backs; They were some of the most trusted warriors in Osh Edehame, proven warriors who had been knighted for great deeds and loyalty. Their heights varied between about 6'2 and 6'8 and each of them looked intimidating with heater shields and lances.
Behind rode five men dressed similarly to the knights, however they wore no cloaks and their armour was black. The shortest was 5'10 and the tallest was 6'10 and a half. They were the Blackguard, Zakroti's sworn bodyguards whom presence Nastaki had barely tolerated.

Zakroti himself wore his chain mail and his suit of plate armour over it, though his close helm was sitting in his horses pack and his padded chainmail coif was down, revealing stunted horns poking through his black hair. He was shorter than even Ayltam and so riding alongside his four relatives he appeared very out of place.

They reached the gates, which had been opened by the guards who had seen their banners approaching. Servants came to tend their horses and the four nobles entered.

"Zakroti, Qeynate; Gehdzi jorl wredzi dzi." Nastaki noted, glancing to them both in turn. Th pair nodded in response to their grandfather, who spun on the spot and continued to lead them through the halls.

They proceeded slowly to the so called 'Claiming Chamber'. The room its self was beautiful, clearly based on Gem architecture. The entire room was filled with tall warriors, some of whom had their weapons drawn. Some were engaging in conversation and arguments... and a few fights. Zak glanced over his shoulder to Ayltam, who appeared to be somewhat dumbstruck.

He dropped back and lent in towards her.

"Ayltam; hilyat numenta, wel. Ta a alahze za an Nor Zyro." Zakroti whispered to her, causing Ayltam to glance towards him with some concern

"Gais?"

"Gehdzi zan grundaze." Zakroti said. Ayltam nodded

"O zan tyr; wredzi zan rof." She replied but despite her words the fear was evident in her voice; She too had heard the stories of the brutality of the Drakken warriors. Zak scanned over the crowd, his eyes coming to rest on a Drakken with particularly long horns sticking out through unkempt blonde hair. A scar that ran down the left side of his face seemed to permanently draw it into a mocking sneer. He stood at around 6'6 and was well built, over his back was slung a bastard sword and he was particularly well built, even for a Drakken.

Lysander Karstagg, Zakroti recognised him immediately. The two families, Karstagg and Unalim, hated each other. It was an old rivalry, starting with the excessively brutal killing of another Ayltam Unalim some 700 years ago. The Karstaggs were among the worst of the worst; Sometimes, when they captured prisoners, they would release them into the forests and hunt them down for sport. Once they had hunted them down, they would cook them and serve them up at their feasts; This was the fate that had befallen Zakroti's unlucky ancestor who had been little more than a child at the time. The Karstaggs were reviled and their cruelty was known throughout the land.

Out of the corner of his eye, Zakroti saw two of the shorter Gems collapse in a pile on the floor. Judging from their appearances and their linked arms the two were twins, sisters at the very least. The taller one of them, who was still only slightly larger than the other, had apparently attracted the attention of Lugft with her harsh response. Zakroti watched with slight curisoity as Lugft kissed her hands and welcomed her to Drakka. Lugft, however, did not make any such moves to claim the other girl. They would be separated, then; Many Drakken did not wish to start a fight at this time, not when it was so much easier to just take any other girl. He doubted anyone would challenge Lugft for just one short, if pretty, girl in a sea of beautiful faces.

Evidently, Lysander had smelt blood in the water as the scene had unfolded, because he began to storm across the room towards the pair of them, his eyes fixed on the smaller girl. Zakroti grimaced.

"So, the beast has found it's quarry for the next hunt." Qeynate commented from beside him, to which Zakroti nodded in affirmation

"Perhaps he will let her live, though life with Lysander- It'd probably be a mercy to die." Zakroti replied, Qeynate smirked in response but both were quickly cut short by a glance from Nastaki. Ayltam had apparently overheard as well, because she glanced up to Zakroti

"Is that- Lysander Karstagg?" She asked tentatively. He nodded as he watched the Drakken approach his new bride and seize her by the arm, yanking her out of line with a harsh Come here!. Karstagg did not stop when she was out of line but continued to pull her away towards the doorway behind them, saying Gods only know what to the poor girl; Zakroti guessed he was probably trying to frighten her; He grimaced again, but remained motionless. Ayltam piped up again as she took in the abysmal scene "You told me what the Karstaggs do to young girls yourself. You can't just let this happen!"

"It is out of our hands, Ayltam." Zakroti said; Qeynate nodded swiftly in affirmation and cut in

"She's a bride, Ayltam; Most of them will suffer horribly before they die. So it is."

"But it doesn't have to be. She's so small, just look at her!" Ayltam protested; The young girl in question was small indeed, only emphasised by the powerful bulk of muscle that was Lysander dragging her across the Claiming Chamber. "Zak, just look at her." Ayltams voice had become considerably more begging and Zakroti couldn't help but look down to her when she spoke

"Ayltam, what do you want me to do, stop every brute from taking a bride?"

"Just- Stop one. You can't leave that poor girl with the Karstaggs, she's already being torn away from her sister..."

"Ayltam-" Zakroti began, but was cut off by Ayltam

"Zak, please." Zak paused for a moment before sighing heavily and stepping away from his family and towards Karstagg and the unfortunate young girl. Kzaar and Vain, two of his blackguard, followed after him with their hands resting on the hilts of their blades.

"Karstagg!" He called out as he approached

"-and then, I'm going to-" Lysander paused, turning his attention away from the girl he had been dragging across the room and down towards the short Drakken lord. He paused for a moment before letting out a dark laughter and snarling "What do you want, runt?"

"I want you to take your hands off that girl. In fact, I don't want you to lay a hand on anyone tonight." Zakroti stated causing the brute to laugh loudly. *You're going to go back to your father empty handed, and if anyone asks why you didn't take a bride you are going to tell them that none of them took your fancy. "

"And if I refuse?" Lysander growled, taking his hand off of the girls arm and approaching the Drakken, towering over him. "Are you going to fight me?"

"If you do not do this, your father will find out about the little escapade you had with that girl last year. I can only imagine his fury." Zakroti said with a thin smile. Lysander seemed stunned for a moment, growling and opening his mouth to question Zakroti further

"You're bluffing-" Lysander began, but was quickly cut off

"Am I? Her name is Rayana." Zakroti cut in; The two Drakken stared at each other for several seconds, Lysander looked as though he was going to try and beat Zakroti to death with his bare hands. Finally, he turned and stormed off towards the entrance, shoving past one of the servants and sending plates clattering to the floor.

Zakroti turned towards the young woman and gave her a kindly smile, speaking in a far softer tone than he had towards Lysander "Are you alright? Between your handling from Lysander and and the fall you took, I mean. The circumstances of your being here need not be repeated, I think-" Zakroti trailed off for a moment before continuing " Forgive me, where are my manners; I am Zakroti Unalim, Muth a Varlasmoras. Who do I have the pleasure of meeting?"

---

"I don't like waiting around!" whispered Lydia, fiercely.

Leaning forward, Sorja replied, "Neither do I, but it must be done."

Glancing at him, the red-haired Fire Gem shifted, agitated.

"What if he gets into trouble?!"

"Then he'll make sure to signal us. Granted, the signal will probably come in the form of agonized Drakken screams, but still." He cracked a smile at Lydia's hard, maroon-eyed stare. If looks could kill, Sorja had no doubt that the little one would've no doubt skewered him by now.

They resided on the roof of a small cabin, built just below the canopy of several large oak trees, and within its branches- off the ground and out of sight. The way it was designed allowed the inhabitants to climb up a ladder, sit halfway through the canopy, and watch the great big fortress looming in the distance. "Castle Dum-watch it's called, if I recall correctly," Sorja had playfully announced, when they first saw it the day before, some distance away.

"You think this is a joke?! A game?!"

"Not at all, Lydia. Valence will, as usual, do what needs to be done and get it done as best as he can, and come out without a mortal wound. That, and we couldn't possibly penetrate the mountain fortress. Like the Cultist one, it'd be too difficult to get inside and even more difficult to navigate it. We're at least twenty minutes' run away from it, anyways."

Her eyes flared and her jaw clenched, but she said nothing. Sorja couldn't help himself, just one last needle.

"Fear not for your love; he's not going to come marching back with a so-called 'Bride' in tow. There won't be anyone competing for him!"

And like a good tactician, he figured this to be the perfect time for a tactical retreat. So he bolted for the ladder, dodging the knife that the blazing-red Lydia set after him, laughing all the while. One last glance as he swept down the ladder in the too-small Cultist cabin- her lips set into denial, her cheeks blazing, and her eyes ready to murder.

Oh what fun it is, watching Valence grow up with so many admirers that he never noticed. If he saw any of them as a threat or in any way suspicious, he'd re-evaluate them and notice it, but they were nothing but friends and family, and he didn't see anything more than sisters in them. A shame, it was, that he was so blind to those that were so close.

---

---

He strode through the hallways, somewhat small horns attached to his head by a headband. Most of his hair fell over it, hiding it, and it was nothing more than decoration at the top of his forehead, with a small insignia, proclaiming him to be from the far Southern border. A relatively foreign Drakken, by their standards, still looking young enough to be unknown to the vast majority of them and so, easily to imitate and copy. The actual lord that insignia- which was very much legitimate- was dead, hidden in a small Cultist bolt-hole for contacts within Drakka, maybe a week's travel south. They took him out, having read everything he knew and studied him very closely.

After the ceremony, someone might notice his true absence. That didn't bother Valence any; Drakken traveling in small groups often disappeared, found mauled by wild animals. Strong as they may be, Drakken were still subject to nature's wrath. The Cult had made a habit of slowly picking off lesser Drakken in their travels, with clever traps and 'pet' bears, wolves, wildcats, and more. Desperation and revenge went a long way, in this world.

Two Drakken guards flanked him; both were technically followers of the Cult. They changed into armor that was painstakingly sneaked in over the last year, looking to be like his personal guard. They expected to be given some position of power within the next decade; indeed, just seeing a male Gem walk about the fortress like he owned it, completely invisible to suspicion, was enough to secure their trust. More or less. Valence had already beaten one of them in a fight, to prove that he was 'worthy' of them. Fighting Drakken was a very, very difficult business, and his very sore shoulder and back was enough proof of it.

Finally striding through one of the alternate entrances of the Claiming Ceremony hall, he surveyed the room, automatically recognizing and filing away who was attending. A great many middle-class lords, several higher-class lords with some amount of prominence, and even the Lady Tiger, looking for her own Bride. How curious.

Too many lesser Drakken to count, though. Most of them were beneath surveillance, having not shown anything particular interesting or dangerous to warrant attention. The most average and dull of them were, though, so that they could be assassinated and replaced to infiltrate events such as this, or to be won over later for military support.

Valence clasped his leather-clad hands together, rubbing them excitedly. Steel slivers ran over the top of it, providing a strange sort of decoration, and acting as reinforced claws. No one would notice an absence of real claws with these on, after all. A shining black silk shirt and a harefur-lined leather jacket hanging down to his mid-thighs completed his look, blending well with the warm woolen trousers he wore. All of it was worn by the more 'important' Southern lords, who fancied themselves better than they actually were. The headband was new, but again, he got the idea from other Drakken down there who wore it, in a vain attempt to set themselves apart from the normal, as if they were something new.

Surveying the women- the 'Brides', it saddened him to correct himself with- entering the hall, nearly immediately being snatched up by Drakken, he took note of the ones he did know- the Twins were really the only ones he knew-knew. He had just read reports about the others. The twins, he thought, wouldn't recognize him if they saw him right now, but maybe if they saw him in hunting gear. As a child, his father had brought him on a couple trips across their people's major cities, and he had met them, once. His father had some business with their mother; he never found out what. For whatever reason, he had very briefly met them, and found them to be adorable. Even if he'd never admit it. But then again, many of the women were beautiful, cute, or adorable, in this room.

He coldly eyed one of the nearby Drakken, eyeing him in a funny manner. He glared at the beast, and the two guards flanking him, in turn, glared at the lesser lord.

Satisfactorily, the Drakken looked away, surrendering.

Valence turned his attention back to the floor, wondering about whether or not he should grab a Bride. He wasn't entirely sure why, but the idea appealed to him for some reason.

Oh! But there was someone more interesting to talk to in the meantime. He didn't usually socialize, for the sake of having his cover blown, but he was so intrigued he couldn't help himself.

Sweeping up next to the Drakken Lady Siadamkiru Beneni, he greeted her.

Bowing slightly, indicating that he thought her his superior, he greeted, "Good evening, Lady Siadamkiru Beneni. An unusual change in your usual life, don't you think? But I do like your ambition, pushing all these stuffier elders by coming to get a Bride. If I recall properly, the last Bride that was claimed by a woman was, what, five hundred years ago? Quite a long time, I think. Good to see some new blood doing something new. I'm a bit of a scholar, you see." He gave the female Drakka a slight smile, making direct eye contact.

Ah, here it is- he made it apparent that he was lesser in station, but that he was still a sort of equal, and not to be messed with. Drakken seemed to just want to fight; on the other hand, he did enjoy their politics. All these subtle and not-so-subtle messages. Doing something first, or just outright slapping someone. All so predictable, yet, unpredictable as well. He enjoyed it even more, casting probes around one and forcing them to yield to him, to give him what he wanted.

He didn't offer his hand; he didn't want to appear as if he was forcing her into anything.

"I am Valryk Galak of Sylra, far down South, on the border. Different up here. Much warmer, too."

He waved absently at the guards, dismissing them- even if they were larger than him. Hopefully, that made an impression too- that he had such large specimens' loyalty and respect, that he could wave them off like they were naught but gnats, without a worry.

@RomanAria

A pair of rough hands thrust into the carriage to pull out quite the uncooperative bride. Out they dragged a young Gemminite woman with rich brown hair and pale blue eyes, which seemed to appear more greyish in the blightened surroundings. Immediately the girl locked eyes on the Drakken guards with a ferocity not usually exhibited by the peaceful Gem people. Amused but not at all intimidated, the two Drakken guards grasped a wrist and upper arm each to lead their charge to her bathing chambers. Kasari growled as they pushed her inside the depressing room, staggering a few steps forward as she was finally allowed to carry her own weight. Exhaling her frustration, she inspected the bath prepared for her and smirked. If they thought some cold water was going to hurry her up, they obviously had no idea who it was they were dealing with. Heating the water herself, Kasari climbed in and sighed with relief, allowing he heat to soak away the tension from the long journey.

The journey itself had been rather uneventful, but the moments leading up to it were a bit of a different story. A Drakken guard had come without much more in the way of a warning than the thundering sounds of hooves and squeaking wheels. Many a Gem had gone numb upon hearing such a sound, waiting in fear to see who would be taken from their families. The look on her parents' faces were heartbreaking; her mother weeping, her father trying to remain strong in spite of the obvious anger he felt. But no matter how they felt, they did what was expected of them and let the men take their only daughter. Kasari's brother, however, was not so willing to let her just go. She could still remember the sound of the Drakken's fist against her brother's face, a one punch knock out punctuated by a threat to violate her mother in front of them if they tried it again. After that the men dragged away a kicking and screaming girl, practically tossing her into the carriage before escorting her off to her assumed death.

Even in the ill lighting Kasari could tell that there were a few bruises forming on her arms where the men had gripped her a little too tightly. She sighed and sunk beneath the water before hopping out to finish getting ready. Focusing intently on herself, the water began to evaporate off her skin in a cloud of steam that rose and vanished into the darkness. Kasari was a rather impatient girl, it wouldn't do to wait to dry off. While she ran a comb through her hair, she contemplated what she was going to wear. The first impression would be what determines her fate, but Kasari wasn't exactly one for strategy. Ultimately she decided she would show off the bruises as if they were badges of honor, taking a page out of the Drakken playbook in the hopes that it would make her seem more respectable. It was a farfetched plan but her options were rather limited at the moment.

All brushed out, the tips of Kasari's hair reached down to touch the middle of her back to create a lovely curtain of silky hair however she ended up pulling it in front of her right shoulder to bind it in a loose braid. Hugging her torso was a reddish-brown sleeveless tunic that clasped around her neck so as to accent the shoulders and bust. Embedded into the neck of the tunic was a series of light blue jewels that reflected the same color as her eyes, the few that dangled catching the light in a dazzling way. The tunic itself cut off just above the navel, which Kasari left exposed by choosing a skirt that hugged low on the hips. The material of her gypsy-styled skirt was more fluid than that of the tunic, tightest around the waist but then allowed to hang comfortably down to mid-calf. The color of the fabrics might have been considered dull, but the shape of the outfit itself was rather appeasing to the eye. Admiring her handiwork, Kasari slipped a single gold bangle onto her right ankle before stepping into a comfortable pair of slippers.

Rather than waiting for the guards to come after her again, Kasari marched over to the door and threw it open with a slightly different attitude than she had possessed before. Holding her head up high, Kasari cast the same glare she had been only this time it looked dignified. As one of the men went to grab for her arm, she shrugged it off and took a step toward him.

"What am I going to do; run home? I'm already here, I might as well walk on my own." She hissed before turning toward the direction of the greatest heat sources and beginning to walk. The guards complied with her request to walk instead of being dragged to the "Choosing Room", however it was clear that they didn't trust her by the uncomfortable lack of space between the large men and the quite averagely sized female. Rolling her eyes, Kasari marched down the steps and joined the others that had already arrived before her. She hesitated upon first entering the room, glancing around to gather her bearings. A few of what Kasari assumed to be Drakken lords, or at the very least "War Heroes", were already in physical fights. It seemed each of the girls to have arrived before her already had at least one person gunning after them with plenty of Drakken still hanging back to judge the merchandise as it arrived. Taking a deep breath, the fire gem marched forward to the place where she had been instructed to stand. Once she had moved away from the exit, the guards dispersed leaving completely on her own.

---

On the rare occasions that Azilon made public appearances one thing was always certain, he would not be amongst the first to arrive. The man liked to go as unnoticed as possible unless the moment called for it, however the beginning of a bride claiming didn't qualify in the Drakken's mind. Clothed in all black, Azilon purposely waited for the room to liven up before he even entered. Sticking to the back, Azilon found a spot where he could watch all that would happen from a safe distance. Most of his kin were either too distracted by the women or each other to pay him any mind, so he was able to settle in going mostly unnoticed... Just the way he liked.

For the meantime, Azilon had decided to keep the hood of his cloak up to shroud his face from the crowd. The fact that he was there standing in the room was proof enough that he was supposed to be at the event, so he didn't think showing his face was all that necessary to do what he and many others had shown up to do; at least not yet. Arms folded across his chest, he spent some time taking in the scene. He had arrived shortly after a female Drakken which luckily for him was worth more in terms of gossip than a guy in cloak. Right off the bat were a few hasty selections, or at least moves to show intentions. Two of the girls were pulled aside completely by their suitors, one failing in his attempt and surrendering her over to another Drakken whom he faintly recognized as being Zakroti Unalim. Azilon wasn't much for names but it was hard not to when a good portion of the nation's lords were fighting each other because of him.

Turning his attention back to the remaining Gem, her felt bad for the poor thing. Ripped once away from home, and now from her sister, she was left standing all alone to await her new husband's summons. He was eager to see if anyone would step up and challenge the earlier Drakken for the girl, but he didn't think it likely with the way he held himself. Shrugging to himself, Azilon yawned as a new Gemminite was brought in. It wasn't as if he didn't think her attractive, but this really wasn't striking him as his "thing". Already he was beginning to regret leaving home to attend the event, but he remained rooted to his spot nonetheless. The night was still young, perhaps something would happen to change his mind about the whole thing. Until then, he would wait patiently and watch as the next girl was pushed through the door.

---

All her life Sorrin had lived in ignorant bliss of what was going on in the world outside of her home. Her aunt had told her very little about the Drakken people and nothing at all about what they took from Gemmenia as so called 'peace offerings'. Perhaps it had been her aunt's hope that if she didn't talk about them, they wouldn't show up. But now she was being marched down a corridor to a room full of strangers with absolutely no idea what was going on. As she stumbled into the room, she glanced around trying to put any pieces together that might explain what was happening.

Each of the girls had been unique in their own ways, but it didn't take much to see the unspoken differences between her and those that came before. She wasn't as slim as some of them, having slightly rounder cheeks and not much in the way of sexy curves. Everything about her screamed cute; her eyes, her hair, even her choice of an outfit set her apart from the others. Her green eyes glistened with the tears she had shed back in the changing room, now beginning to regret her decision not to change clothes instead. She wore a short blue dress that cut off just above the knee, and that was held up by two thin shoulder straps that matched the silver-threaded belt that cinched the fabric in at the waist as well as the sandals that laced up her calves.

After her brief moment of panic, Sorrin really began paying attention to the room around her. She couldn't lie, the place was unlike anything she could have ever imagined. Intimidating, yes, but beautiful in its own ways. Her pulse began to slow as she found more things to focus on, scared out of her mind, but distracted enough not to pass out from fear. Much like the architecture, she thought the people were dazzling too. They were so much bigger than she in comparison, even the Drakken females towered over her and her Gemminite kin. Every move they made was like that of a predator's in the most primal of ways, which made her realize where she stood on the food chain. Rumors began circling through her head, talks of girls being taken to a far away place where they were made the brides of ruthless warriors.

"Do they really expect me to become the bride of a man I have never met before?" She murmured out loud nervously.

The ride from Lienna’s village in the far north had been long and laborious, but as the long journey required earlier leaving time, she had been one of the first Gems to arrive. Like the other early arrivals, she had been whisked off to a private dressing room, stripped out of her fur-lined coat, boots and trousers and treated to a fragrant bath and a new dress. The bath had been cold, but she’d easily been able to warm it to steaming, filling the room with fragrance she’d never experienced before; it was sweet and earthy, and the closest comparison she could draw was that of the towering evergreens of her home. The dress was simple, really; sheer white lace with a chocolate brown sash and seaglass jewelry,complete with a modest backward headdress, to finish it off. It was the first time she’d ever worn a dress, the first time she’d had her legs shaven (an attendant had needed to help her) and the first time she’d ever smelled like flowers. In fact, the only thing that had really remained the same was the ivory owl her mother had given her, nestled in the bosom of her dress.

She’d done her crying in the carriage. Her lamentation? Long before the dress was on. She saw no point in fretting now, for fighting a riptide would only serve to drown her. She knew from the horror stories that circled the country what she was in for, and while it frightened her, she had made peace with the fact that there was nothing she could do. She’d managed to take a colder attitude toward the whole affair, and had vowed to herself that she would do whatever she must to make this new life easier. So, instead of shivering and working herself up over her predicament, she closed her eyes and let the new, soothing smell of her hair calm her.

”Choose the path of least resistance, child,” her mother had told her, ”Water always finds a way.”

She was paraded into the grand hall with the other Gem brides, most of them with eyes still red from crying, some shaking in their garments. The hall itself was enough to encourage a lump in Lienna’s throat; it was clearly of Gem construction, and she had little doubt that its glassy marble floor and shining walls would soon de defiled with screams and bloodshed. However, she swallowed the lump in her throat after a moment with relative ease. She’d only seen true gem architecture once, in the home of a noble family near her village. That very family had scorned her mother for keeping an attractive daughter around instead of sending her away. No, the architecture didn’t make her long for home; it simply reminded her of what she could never have had there. Perhaps, she thought, she’d have a grand home of her own now after all.

No sooner had the first brides been paraded in than the Drakken were beginning to eagerly snap them up. One girl was roughly and loudly pulled away by a blonde Drakken with long, imposing horns. They made quite the racket, and Lienna had to turn away from them, too sickened to watch. However, a low voice boomed through the room: a challenger. She looked back, expecting bloodshed and morbidly interested but, to her surprise, none came. The shorter of the two said something to the blonde one and, after a brief standoff, the blonde released his bride and stormed away, leaving an upturned foreign servant in his wake.

So little time had she been there and she had already watched the room steadily flux with attendants; a new ‘shipment’ of sniffling Gems followed by another crowd of hungry Drakken, who would whisk their choices away and restart the cycle. And all the while, Lienna stood watching, detached; a rock amidst the tide. However, soon after a few more girls were escorted inside, she spotted a dark-haired Drakken with one broken horn eyeing her hungrily. He said something she couldn’t hear to what appeared to be a friend and began to approach her, beady black eyes boring into hers. In the back of her mind, she remarked that his eyes looked like those of a seal after clubbing; bloodshot and dead.

She couldn’t help but grimace when the man’s smell reached her; he stank of alcohol and travel, and his ‘musk’ seemed to be physically tangible in the air. Growling cruelly, he grunted a short “You’ll do” and took her roughly by the arm, unceremoniously dragging her, to he disgust, back to his friend. Lienna pulled against his grip, for even though she'd resolved herself to go quietly, she’d be damned if she ended up with a creature so repulsive. Of course, her actions were moot against brute strength. Still, Lienna was a quick thinker: closing her eyes, she concentrated on summoning water from the air, generating enough to condense on her hand and allow her to slip free.

Shocked that her plan had worked, Lienna backed up a few steps and concentrated once again on collecting water, with the intent to make a sharp icicle, but was quickly recaptured by her claimant.

“How dare you, whore!” he gurgled, taking her arm in a grip near-tight enough to break it, drawing an involuntary yelp from Lienna and raising his free hand, “You’ll learn some manners before the night is done!”

@Ellion
Saisri was rather surprised that she had already been chosen. She expected her tan skin and muscles would put a lot of lords off, but apparently not this one. She went willingly as he dragged her over to his brothers, stood smiling contentedly even as the brothers called her “the bottom of the barrel.”

Turquoise eyes shifted to her new husband. She curtsied slightly but maintained eye contact. “My name is Saisri Tyalanthe. By what name do I have the honor of calling you? As I don’t suppose calling you “Ex” as these brutes do is going to be acceptable to your own honor.” She looked back up to her husband’s brothers and narrowed her eyebrows slightly. “I understand that I might only be an item of property to you, but the least you could do is show a bit of respect for your brother’s choices… If you are so much wiser than he, why are you two not the ones taking brides of your own?”

She flashed a razor-blade of a smile, before turning her gaze, now warm again, back onto her husband.

---

@WeepingLiberty@NarcissisticPotato@WilsonTurner
Sia inclined her head to the massive Drakken beside her. “I have been well, thank you for asking. It is a pleasure to see you as always, Lugft.” Technically she should have addressed him as “My Lord” buuut… since he’d called her by her first name, she’d return the favor.

She kept her eyes on the incoming brides, but did not see any that caught her fancy. As Lugft made his move on a very tiny girl, she curled her lip slightly but did not say anything. A rush of pity went through her, however; Lugft would break the poor child in a matter of days. But after he’d lost four brides… he’d be sure to not lose this one. No, but he’d still make living to be torture for the girl.

Sia’s heart went out to the small girl and her twin sister. But there was nothing she could do. She would not make a scene with the massive Drakken who was kind of… an ally? Not a friend, but not someone whom bore her any animosity.

She was temporarily distracted by… someone. Valryk Galak of Sylra, he introduced himself as. But there was something that rang very… false about him. He was too bookish, for any self-respecting Drakken lord. “A bit of a scholar”, he had said. He just seemed nosy. She’d heard of Sylra before but never heard anything of any lord worth anything from there. And certainly this man, “bit of a scholar”, was not any sort of brilliant specimen

“How odd… I was not aware that we were to be graced with the presence of one of our brothers from Sylra. I must say that your appearance is rather… disappointing. For a lord of your presumed status I expected one of somewhat greater… stature”

Her eyes scanned the line of Gems that was flowing in, not even looking at the Drakken who spoke to her. Her eyes lighted on a girl. Scared. Gorgeous but scared, tears in her eyes. A sweet-looking girl. She deserved some comfort. Sia hadn’t been in time to get to the twins, but… she could help this one.

She turned to leave the Drakken male. “My advice to you, “Lord Valryk Galak”, is to not seem too interested in books, nor in what is other people’s business. It is most unbecoming of a lord.”

She walked up to the line of brides, eyeing the girls slowly. The one who had caught her eye stood near the end, shifting uncomfortably. Sia walked closer, keeping her eyes friendly and wide, though her gait was still that of a huntress. She paused in front of the girl, for a moment uncertain, and then decided to make a move like the men would. She took the girl’s hand in hers and brought it to her mouth and kissed it. Then she put her arm around the girl’s shoulders and gently led her away from the line, keeping her hand open on the girl’s back and applying pressure as gently as possible so that there would be no bruising or discomfort.

“My name is Siadamkiru Beneni. You can call me Sia. I mean you absolutely no harm. Everything that happens here is for show.” She whispered down into the girl’s ear as she led her back to stand among the lords. Sia kept her arm across the small girl’s shoulders, and gently, with the other hand, brushed the girl’s hair out of her face. A little louder, she said, “Now, what’s your name, you pretty thing?”

---

Auram save her, she’d been the first one claimed. And the one who’d claimed her was by far the most massive lord in the whole place, towering well over seven feet. The strength in his arms, even as he so delicately took her hand and placed a kiss on it, was enough to make her tremble all over.

Aery shrunk down a bit, only held up by her sister, whom stood a little bit behind her. “You’ll be fine, Aery. He probably only looks intimidating and is actually really sweet.” the smaller twin spoke, but lacked conviction.

“I hope-” Aery said, her voice shaking. She was cut off as a vicious-looking Drakken, maybe not as big as the one who’d claimed her, but looking more bloodthirsty, stormed over and grabbed her sister, yanking her roughly out of line. Aery shouted, lunging for them, but one of the other brides in line held her back.

Her eyes welled up with tears as she watched the Drakken all but carrying Miry out. She looked like a doll in his grip, and judging by the horrified look on Miry’s face and the wry grin on the Drakken’s, he was scaring her.

Some smaller Drakken shouted, confronting the bigger one, whom let go of Miry to try to intimidate the littler one. But he didn’t back down. Aery expected a bloodbath, but instead the larger Drakken stormed away, and her sister was left with the arguably less terrifying midget Drakken.

Convinced that Miry was going to be alright, Aery focused on contemplating her future with the absolutely massive lord who’d kissed her hand.

---

@darkwolf687
Of course they were to be separated. Of course Aery was to be stuck with the biggest, scariest Drakken she’d ever seen. And then a different lord came and dragged Miry away before she could even say anything.

She tried to listen to what he was saying, for exactly three seconds. Then she tried to stop hearing the horrible, horrible things he intended to do to her body. She fully expected to die, by now, but gods save her, she did NOT want to die tortured, writhing in agony for days or weeks until finally she let go.

Tears streamed down her face as she struggled, trying vainly to break out of the massive Drakken’s grip. Her struggling increased in the few seconds before they reached the doors; instinctively feeling that the moment they went through the doors she was a lost cause.

But then the drakken carrying her stopped and turned and set her down. She recoiled a few steps, trembling all over, nearly collapsing, and tried to wipe her eyes and pay attention to what was going on. Some tiny Drakken was in his face, smirking and talking about something, too quietly for Miry to hear.

For a moment the short one and the tall one glared at each other; Miry crossed herself in prayer, hoping that the small lord wasn’t going to be slaughtered. Then the tall one stormed off.

The Lord looked to her and said something. She took a deep breath and tried to calm her trembles and bluff a response. She tried to wobble back over to him but between her trembling and the painful contraptions on her feet, she wobbled and fell again. In disgust she took the impossible shoes off and then rose back to her feet, seemingly a little more stable but also a lot shorter.

She curtsied to the Lord. “My name is Aymiria Cassiel. I’m only terrified, but not injured more than bruising, thanks to you.” She was proud of herself for her voice not trembling, her heart rate already going down. She dared to look back up at him and smile nervously. Then her gaze trailed back behind him to see the faces of his… relatives? A young girl looked happy and proud, and an older male absolutely venomous.

She looked away, rather than make eye contact with his family. ”Meaning no disrespect, Lord Unalim, but perhaps you should not have intervened, because now everyone sees you with, well, with me. A sad underdeveloped excuse for a bride. Perhaps it might be… prudent for you to take another bride, more of a traditionally beautiful, well, woman. Someone proud and tall and graceful. Maybe that Fire gem on the end, there.” She kept her voice low and only looked in that direction, not wanting to point. Not wanting anyone to realize that it was her idea; let them think it was the Lord’s.

@Obscene Symphony@RomanAria

---

Valence just smiled at Sia's words, and watched her walk off. He couldn't help appreciate her form just a little- as a fellow hunter, he could appreciate. Funny, though- as far as he saw it, he was a far, far better hunter. After all, the fellow hunter that just walked off dismissed him as a nobody. That sarcasm, so snarky. It gave him thrills, to think that one of the more dangerous and ambitious of Drakken dismissed him so quickly, even as he was in disguise and such.

He could've stuck a knife in her and she wouldn't have even realized he was a threat. The thought made him giddy with excitement. But he had work to do.

So he strolled absently for about three seconds, until he caught one of the cruder, brutal Drakken Lords of the room start moving forward, heading towards one Gem that certainly wasn't going to be up to the challenge. So, he moved towards her- no need for an innocent to get beaten. Maybe he could beat some sense into the guy. Passively, of course. The particular specimen was large, though he knew he wasn't any good at intelligence or anything other than beating something in, and keeping his men in line.

He darted forward, as the fist came down on the poor girl, and snatched her, just far away for the fist to come down a couple inches away from her, missing entirely. The Drakken stumbled, unbalanced from not meeting resistance, and Valence moved back a little farther.

The brute, naturally, growled at him, and demanded his Bride back. To which Valence replied that he didn't see him holding his Bride; he only saw her trying to beat up one of the candidates. He suggested- was he trying to ruin her, so that no one else would want her? The beast growled even more, but ceased when Valence's Drakken guardsman stepped up behind him, lending support to Valence. He relaxed even more when he saw the chestplate- bearing the same insignia as Valence's forehead- appear on the left side of his vision. The brute was a brute, but it did have a lick of intelligence.

The Lord glared at Valence, as he slipped an arm around the small Gem's shoulders, claiming her. And that Lord knew- Lord Sasqet or somesuch- that he wasn't going to be taking on Valence in a good ol' one versus one battle, and the confidence that infused Valence suggested that he might be a bit more than the brute could swallow. So he stepped back, glaring, promising death and destruction.

Valence was thrilled, personally. A little bit of dread, too, but thrilled. He just caused a feud between two different Drakken families- how this'll turn out! But he didn't know what he was going to do with the little one.

He turned his head to look at her, smiling warmly down at her.

"Greetings, Lienna. Let me tell you what's in store for you..."

He leaned down, and whispered in her ear, "Act surprised and horrified, or people will become suspicious. I'm part of people who wants to see you and every other Gem back with their families, but we can't really do that right now. So you either come with me, and work with me again these people, or I let you go and someone else claims you. Or the brute claims you. Or you announce me to be someone who is not a Drakken- because I am not- and I die here and now, and you'll probably die shortly afterward. Nod yes for coming with me, or shake your head no for staying. If you're coming, you'd best follow me right now."

So he stretched back up to his full height, smiled at her, and withdrew his arm. He glanced back at his guard, and gestured for him to approach. He whispered it to him- if she follows, protect her and make sure she isn't claimed, if she stays or walks away, follow me, and then glanced at Lienna with another smile.

And walked away.

He headed back towards Sia- he might have been a little obsessed, reviewing all the information the Cult had about her, before he embarked to infiltrate the Claiming.

Appearing right on Sorrin Lucielle's other shoulder as Sia rose back up to her height, he answered her question for the Sorrin.

"This pretty one is Sorrin Lucielle. Sorrin, you don't have much of a clue as to what's going on here, do you? No, you see, Sia, Sorrin has been disoriented. Shortly after she was taken, my people found her family and got some information. She was never really exposed to the idea of the Claiming, or about the Drakkens at all." He gave Sia a little smile, and crouched next to his fellow Gem.

"How are you holding up, miss Lucielle? Terribly sorry you have to be here without any friends or family. Well, no, having your people with you would be even worse. I amend what I say- terribly sorry you're here at all. Sia here is known to a bit a little different from the rest, though." He gave her a comforting smile, and patted her on the shoulder.

Smiling at Sia, he continued on, not allowing her any time to reply or interject, forging right on.

[color=sienna]"No, you see, it rather is unbecoming for a Drakken to become scholarly or even obsessed with that sort of information. How ridiculous, a smart Drakken, right? I have never once heard of a single Drakken that's like me. Of course there wouldn't be one, you know?"

His smile turned a little too conspiratorial for the occasion, hoping she caught on to his hint that he was not a Drakken. He glanced about; no one was really within earshot, or paying attention if they were. None of them nearby were any of the same ones that were standing around when he first talked to Sia; even if someone had overheard and listened, they wouldn't get anything from it. Vice versa, if someone had heard his original 'conversation' with Sia, but not this one, it still wouldn't make any sense.

Earlier:

Sorici's heart was about to hammer through her chest, her proximity to the dirt the only thing keeping her from screaming out. An armored foot was grinding into her back, keeping her pinned with the help of the hands that had her arms twisted behind her back. The dust from the nearby collapsed tunnel was stinging her eyes, or at least that was what she told herself was the reason for the tears rolling down her cheeks. It couldn't be the pain in her muscles, the fear and frustration at helplessness, or her betrayal by way of surviving instead of dying nobly as was her intent. No, she would never accept that it could be those things.

Pulled out of her thoughts and to her feet, Sorici found herself face-to-face with what she could only assume was the leader of the Drakken party that had just finished raiding her home. "He must be. His eyes are the cruelest." He gripped her chin roughly and tilted her head, examining her bloodied and dirty face from every angle. A malicious grin formed on his face. "Well, little rat, as much as I would like to gut you like the rest of your group of infringing pests, your looks will earn me a better reward." As a cold chill settled over her heart, the drakken turned and barked a few orders at some of the other soldiers. Being in too much shock to have heard them, she let out a squeak of surprise as she had her hands were bound and she was tossed roughly over a muscular shoulder. "You filthy-!" she had only time to get out part of what was to be her last act of defiance before a strike to the back of her head cut out her voice and thoughts.

...

Present:

She, as usual for the last few days, awoke to the feeling of cold water weighing down her clothes and chilling her bones. Her eyes snapped open as she tried frantically to get her feet on something solid. To her surprise, she was in what appeared to be a bathing room instead of a muddy creek. "Wash yourself and get dressed." A harsh voice came from behind Sorici, and she turned just in time to see a large Drakken toss her bag in her direction and leave the room, closing the door with a loud snap. In the silence that followed, the events from earlier fully started to sink in. Staying composed for just long enough to peel her wet clothes off and shakily settling down into the water, she felt the emotional stress of the past overflow.

For what felt like an hour, but was likely only a few minutes, she alternated between hyperventilating and dunking her head under water to muffle her fearful wimpering. As much stress as she was under, she would rather drown herself than let a Drakken have the chance of hearing her crying. As her overwhelming fear gradually died down because had no energy left to fuel it, her sobs turned to hiccups, and hiccups to silence. It was in silence that she washed herself, tied her long hair into an elaborate knot at the top of her neck, tied her slightly smaller and more flimsy-looking than usual khopesh to her thigh (did they even open her bag? Well, it was surrounded by a knot of tangles clothes), and pulled on the one dress that had been in the bag that she had packed when there had still been hope that the Gems could flee. It was one of the only things she owned that she could call pretty, as every other item of clothing of hers had been strictly practical. It was long and cream colored, but the skirt was cut into strips to allow for free leg movement. The top was sleeveless and made to look like flowery patterns of lace were the only things covering her skin. Though she had been helped heavily with the stitching and whatnot, what lied on the waste and choker-like neckline was entirely her work: dozens of diamonds, quartz, and other translucent gemstones.

Strangely calm as she ran her fingers over the cold jewels, a new train of thought was starting to run through her mind. Back at the outpost, the only way to get anywhere was to respect one's superiors. It didn't matter what your personal thoughts on them was. If they outranked you, you listened and obeyed, even if you despised them. What would make Drakkens any different? Crying, whining, petulance, and smart mouths would certainly be useless in a place where survival would be a daily struggle for a physically weaker being. Besides, though her hate for these wretched beings was not diminished, her will had been bent too harshly to snap back right away. It would take some time before anyone would get more than a dead look and some empty words out of her. "For now, all I can do is be hard and unfeeling. I can already tell that survival will require it, and I will survive, even without any life to go back to."

After pulling on what could only be described as strips of tan cloth meant to only cover the arch of her foot and ankle while leaving the balls of her feet, her heels, and toes exposed to the ground, she checked to make sure her posture was straight and let herself be escorted down the stairs by a set of guards and into the room of brides and Drakkens. "I will act as though I notice no one until I am spoken directly to." she resolved.

"-and with one final swing of our Hero’s sword, the great beast fell to the ground. With its last breath it spoke a curse on the Hero’s soul, that for every beast they would slay from that point forward, the hero would lose something much dearer in return. Paying no heed to-" The sudden lurch of the carriage as it stopped caused Onyx to lose her place on the page. She'd been reading to those riding with her, another Gem named Nadia and two Drakken, to pass the time during the trip, and to help calm herself and her fellow Gem. "Oh, Are we here already?" She closed the book and smiled at everyone in the carriage. She wasn't sure how much the Drakken had liked the story, but judging by the looks on their faces they weren't too eager for her to stop.

One of them sighed and opened the door, both of them getting out of the carriage before the second one spoke. “Alright. Out, both of you. Don't forget your things.” Onyx nodded and put her book back into the small chest she'd been allowed to bring. The chest held five other books, along with a dress that used to be her mother's. She got out of the carriage after Nadia, smiling at her as she did, one final reminder to stay calm. "Don't worry. You'll be ok." As she was led into the building she heard Nadia call something after her, but couldn't make it out before she was forced into a bathing room.

As she undressed and immersed herself in the slightly-warmer-than-room-temperature water, she allowed her imagination to wander. She came up with an explanation for her circumstance, she was merely a damsel bewitched into a trap set by an ogre, and now would be forced into a marriage or else be eaten at the feast. She laughed at herself, comparing a Drakken to an Ogre. At least she knew a Drakken wouldn't eat her, however as a husband an Ogre may just treat her better!

After towelling off, she took her mother's dress out of the chest and put the outfit she had been wearing in its place. The dress was simple enough, made out of pure cotton for warmth and comfort. Pure white made up most of the skirt, while the deep forest green of the top accented her features beautifully. She didn't put her hair up at all, just left it to hang down her shoulders after tucking it behind one ear like she normally did.

Just before leaving the room, she took another one of her books from her chest, figuring that she could read as she waited to be chosen. She walked into the room the guards motioned her to, after being assured that they'd bring her things to her new husband’s room after she was chosen. She kept calm pretty well, painting a look of what she judged was appropriate indifference and acceptance of her fate onto her face as she joined a small line of Gems waiting to be chosen.

As soon as she was there, she started reading, silently this time. Of course the guards weren't going to let that stand, and a couple of them walked over to her. After a well placed glare and a few big words they didn't quite understand, neither of the Drakken guards who had tried to take the book from her bothered her again, and she noticed a few other guards laughing at how she sent them off. She wasn’t meek, just soft spoken, and she wasn't about to give up anything left she had of who she is.


One second Nadia was with her father, talking to one of his friends and a regular client as well as the source of many of her Father's wares; and in the next there's chaos. People rushing off the street, and soon a large hand on her shoulder. She turned to see a Drakken warrior, in his other hand he held the arm of a girl she recognized as the librarian's daughter, and he started pulling the both of them towards a carriage. Another Drakken took her arm and the first one said to them that they both had an hour to pack a single small chest with whatever they deemed necessary to bring, before releasing her to the grip of the second Drakken.

"B-but, wait I-"

“Shut up girlie.” He interrupted her, shaking her in his grip. “Now, where do you live?”

"About 20 minutes outside of town by horse.” Her father spoke to the Drakken, holding himself as nonthreateningly as possible as he did. "I am her father, and while I will not attempt to keep her from you, if you will allow it I will go and pack a few things for her and meet you back here before you leave. Please." As he finished speaking, it seemed as if the Drakken was considering the proposal.

After a moment he noded, and declared with a sly grin “Alright. But we are leaving in an hour, whether you're back here or not.” The grip he had on her arm tightened at the last few words, and she looked to her father, tears already starting to form in the corners of her eyes.

"If I'm not back by then, I'll just follow you all the way to Shadow Worth." He flashed a winning smile at her and tipped his hat before turning around and running to his horse. She watched him ride off, and didn't see him again before the hour was up. The two Drakken forced her and Onyx into the carriage to begin the days-long trip to the border. They lived in the southern part of Gemminia, close enough to the border that they'd be there within a week.

After the first few hours, and nothing but tears from Nadia, Onyx started reading one of her books out loud, and the story alone was enough to distract Nadia from their circumstance, helping her to get through the trip. Over the course of the trip Onyx read them two whole books, and was about half-way through a third when the carriage lurched to a stop.

"Oh, Are we here already?" Onyx spoke before the Drakken ordered them out of the carriage. “Alright. Out, both of you. Don't forget your things.” Nadia made a choked sound of sadness at the order as she climbed out of the carriage, though before she could start crying again Onyx spoke to her one last time before one of the Drakken started dragging her into the building. "Don't worry. You'll be ok."

Nadia nodded and called after her. "Thank you." Wiping her eyes, she glanced at the other Drakken, wondering why she wasn't being dragged inside yet as well. Seeming to guess what she was thinking, he motioned down the path towards Gemminia and muttered something about someone following them.

She started to hear the familiar sound of her father's horse’s hoofbeats at about the same time as she turned around and her father yelled. "Wait!" Within seconds he was there in front of her, holding her tightly in his arms. She couldn't speak, even though she tried, her voice was choked with tears.

Once she'd caught her breath, she couldn't think of anything to say. Her father was listing things he'd packed for her. A sewing kit, a few outfits, and a few “presents” in his own words. The Drakken took the chest from her father and told them to hurry up. She hugged him tightly as every word she'd never get to say to him again came pouring from her lips. "I love you, dad. So, so much. Tell mom that I love her too. And I'll miss you both. Dad, dad I-"

She was cut off by the Drakken pulling her away from him, practically picking her up off the ground as she struggled, though she went limp after a moment, allowing herself to be carried into the fortress. “You know, you're lucky. That almost never is allowed to happen.” The Drakken said as he put her back on her feet in front of a door. “Go. Bathe. I'll hold onto that chest of yours until you've been chosen, and then put it in your new husband's suite.”

The guard smiled at her and then pushed her into the room, slamming the door behind her. Now that she was alone, she didn't feel like crying anymore. No, she felt like dying. She'd never been one for social interaction, and now she was going to be married to a complete stranger. A Drakken, no less.

She numbly washed herself, the cold water helping her to stop her tears. Once she had dried herself, using a little of her power to help the water simply evaporate from her hair and skin, she looked though the chest her father had packed for her, and almost started crying again. On the very top of the pile was a dress she'd been working on making with her mother, a beautiful gold color with a deep red trim and red laces down the front to cinch the fabric tight around her waist.

She put it on delicately, as if the fabrics it was made of were thin films of glass, although she knew better. As she struggled to tie up the laces, for the sleeves were just a little bit too long, she looked in the mirror and was surprised at how much… older it made her look. Certainly she was no child, she had curves in all the right places and was almost the average height of any Gem woman, but the dress seemed to remove the rest of the child’s likeness from her. Her face and shoulders, normally so rounded and narrow to make her look almost 16, were now made by the dress to give her an air of grace and fragility. The collar dipped down just enough to accent her chest without showing too much, and the way the sleeves flared out made it so her waist seemed even narrower than it would with just the laces.

Tying her hair up into a simple bun, she left one stand out to frame the left side of her face, and then went back to looking through the chest her father had packed for her. The dress was the first present she assumed, and her mother's necklace was the next. Nadia had never been one to wear jewelry, neither had her mother, but as she put on the necklace she felt she would never take it off. The red jewels gleaned against her fair skin, and the metal which should have felt cool instead had an almost happy warmth to it, a Loving warmth.

She didn't let herself cry anymore, although it probably looked like she was about to simply break down, instead she would touch the necklace when she felt as if the tears were about to spill over. She left the room and was led to the choosing hall, where she stood staring at the walls and wondered how long it would be until she died.


"Wait!" Zane yelled as he saw Nadia getting of of the carriage. He rode up to her and jumped off of his horse, hugging her as tightly as he could. She was crying, so much, it hurt him that he couldn't do anything to stop this from happening. If only he'd had a weapon with him when they'd went to town…

Sensing the Drakken’s impatience, he started listing the things Nadia would find when she opened the chest, smiling at the thought of the presents her mother had packed. He never would have thought of the dress or the jewels. All he was able to think at the time was how much he wanted to have fought that Drakken off. But now it was too late.

He kissed her on the forehead as she said what she could assume was their final goodbye, crying “I love you”s as she squeezed the breath out of him. Though, as the Drakken carried her away, He promised himself that they would see each other again. He would be trading in Drakka for the next couple of months after all, and it would not be hard to figure out which brute had claimed her.

He considered leaving, moving on towards Drakka, but decided instead to stay as long as possible. He knew that he wouldn't be allowed inside the fort, but as a merchant it would not be out of place for him to hang around just outside the gate on the Drakken side of the border. He could sell a few things or claim to be resting his horse, so long as he was gone by nightfall no one would be suspicious.

The audible stomps of metallic greaves echoed around the grand halls of Shadow Worth. It's been too long, far too long since he had set foot back in the South. The skirmishes in the East proved gruelling, not because the battle was hard to win. No, rather, the difficulty presented itself through the boring and predictable patterns of war that Cuwarr came to familiarize himself with. Cuwarr, himself, forgot the reason as to why he was sent to the East in the first place, but it had something to do with uprisings of some sort. However, his journey to the orient proved to be quite fruitful as evident when he had smuggled a lot of his weapons to the enemy side, only for his men to collect back the fallen iron when they slaughtered the rebels who were too stupid to realize that the people who sold them their weapons were the same soldiers they had been fighting. In other words, his profit grew by a staggering five-fold, and his expenses were but a few men, and a few bottles of rust removers. His four main lieutenants counselled for the warlord to return to the South for a bride, if only to spare themselves of the agonizing lecture of which was more artful: an arrow to the temple, or an arrow to the throat. After all, if Cuwarr fetched himself a wife, then, someone else could listen to his ramblings other than them.

Pezach, the eldest of the lieutenants, believed that Cuwarr's heart was merely split in two: a portion for this senseless art, and a portion for perfection. These two halves join together as one in the moment before he fires the arrow, and, as Cuwarr placed it, makes art. However, no matter how infuriating the warlord grew to his subordinates, his men remain ever loyal to the young drakken who brought honor once more to the Naxremis name.

Cuwarr led the party of five towards the place of choosing, and it wasn't unheard of for the warlord to always bring his four lieutenants around with him. Pezach at his right, Havfalun at his left, Qiorach behind him, and Belnun at the rear of the formation. The four were considered to be the closest brother-in-arms the warlord had, and tagged with him wherever he goes on an important mission. At this moment, Cuwarr still wore his intricate, metal chestplate with emblems of dragons etched on its surface, alongside his armguards and greaves-- almost as if he was still going to war. A deep, red streak of crimson stained his armor-- one that earned Qiorach a discipline lecture because the warlord, being a deadly marksman, should never be stained with blood since he operates at the backline. However, a bunch of rebels snuck up behind them, and if it weren't for Cuwarr's skill with the blade, he would have suffered more than a stain.

"Dominus, are you sure carrying your longbow will be wise?" Pezach remarked, eyeing the yew-made bow whose limbs were fashioned with roses of different shades. "Wouldn't it be better if I carried your weapon, sire?"

"The act is received well, even if it is not accepted." Cuwarr replied, hoisting the bow over his left shoulder using the string. "I, alone, must be the one to carry the Paintbrush."

"As you wish, sire." Pezach nodded before turning his attention to the hallway in front of them. "Do you have a bride in mind, dominus?"

"No," A slight smirk formed on the warlord's lips as he thought about the potential gemminite. "But, it fuels my curiosity as to what sort of gem can pique my interest. I believe it wouldn't be that tasking to feed a wife."

"Dominus, you remember Lord Huron?" Havfalun inquired.

At this, Cuwarr let out a soft laugh before speaking. "The better inquiry would be from whose mind would Huron's shame slip through?" Cuwarr composed himself before turning to his lieutenant. "What point do you wish to press, Havfalun?"

"He had four wives, Dominus, and yet he's still searching for one. Think about that, sire." the lieutenant replied.

Cuwarr took a moment to ponder before he gave his answer. "Even a distinguished lord fares badly against a gemminite whore." His lieutenants bowed solemnly. "Do not let worry grip your hearts, brothers. I am not as savage as my uncivilized counterparts. You shall witness."

Finally, Cuwarr arrived inside the Grand Hall, and he almost drooled at such magnificence. He heard tales of how the Grand Hall reflected gemminite architecture in all its splendor, but never did he imagine that it would exceed his expectations.

"Beautiful, is it not?" Cuwarr mumbled, removing his hood, and pulling down the metal mask that covered the lower half of his face. He observed the grand design through hazy visions, brought on by the piece of cloth covering his eyes. "I wonder what it looks like when my eyes can see it for themselves." Then, Cuwarr turned to his lieutenants. "Enjoy, and make merry yourselves among the food here. I am not famished. We have not stopped from our travels from the East, brothers. I know your stomachs require nourishment. Now, go."

As his guards dispersed, Cuwarr opted to take his seat among the distinguished warlords of the Drakka, and even recognized some familiar figures. He saw the Tigress conversing with one of the less significant officers before she waltzed off to fetch a bride of her own. Cuwarr only conversed a few times with the Tigress, but he knew from the start that she earned her keep within the ranks of the warlords. Next was Huron, and how Cuwarr released an amused laugh at the droll display of the warlord fetching another wife. How long would it be until he adds another one to the list of wives he's lost? He also recognized his colleagues among the rabble of lust-ridden drakken, all but craving to taste the flesh of gemminite women. At this thought, Cuwarr rolled his eyes (thankfully, the cloth prevented anyone from seeing his look of disdain). "Nothing but savages, they are." he remarked before he stood up.

Cuwarr opted to admire the gemminite architecture further, if only to distract himself from the boring sight of his brethren sneering and jeering as to which gem in the hall had the tightest crevice possible. Conversations like these were beneath that of Cuwarr, and he found no reason as to why he should taint his glory with such desperate conversations of narrow-minded imbeciles. Cuwarr believed himself to be above most, if not all. He found no reason to kill his enemies directly, and opts to give the killing to others. As a matter of fact, a few of the warlords would know that Cuwarr is the only warlord without a single confirmed kill on the battlefield. While his deadly prowess with the bow brought him to fame, Cuwarr chose to just shoot enemies with the purpose of incapacitation, preferring others to land the killing blow for him. When asked, Cuwarr merely replied that he found no glory in killing someone so defenseless. But, he always adds that he wants his first kill to be remembered-- he wants his first kill to be on someone notable, not just any grunt who just happened to pick up a sword.

His adoration for the intricate spiral etches and designs on one of the pillars in the hall robbed Cuwarr of his attention, causing him to bump into an unknown person. At first, he stepped back and observed the offender, but his frown softened into a grin upon seeing that it was just a frightened gemminite, wearing one of the most artistic dresses he had ever seen: red cloth mixed with yellow alongside floral designs really made her chestnut eyes shine. The shaking of her shoulders, and the way her cheeks twitched gave away her otherwise neutral posture, and if Cuwarr was someone of low standards, he would have already taken her as a bride. Instead, he placed his hand on the crown of her head, patting it gently. "Take courage, child. The more you act like a caged bird, the more you draw the worthless lords to travel down your thighs. After all, the best lords are the ones who take a challenge. Lift your head if you want to survive longer than normal." Cuwarr chuckled before moving onward. "Oh, and don't just stand idly there; waltz and sing, worthless one. You won't be so lucky to bump into me again."

The warlord shook his head at the gemminite's predictable nature. Oh, how he wished the gems that were brought here were better than her. And, oh, would his prayers be answered when Cuwarr turned a corner, and stopped in front of another gemminite who was being escorted by drakken guards. Immediately, his eyes trailed down her figure, and the warlord's breath hitched in his throat. Her dress, still of a floral design, was matched with a flowing white curtain that made her appear like a white lotus amidst a great turmoil. Then, he went to her face, and again, he swallowed a lump down his throat. "Oh, my." he mumbled. The girl's eyes were unlike any other, and bore a mixture of courage, fear, desperation, and will. The myriad of emotions found all over her face reminded the warlord of an abstract painting he found in Gem. Hard to understand, difficult to comprehend, but, oh-so meaningful on its own. Immediately, the warlord turned to the guards, and waved them off. "She'll be my company for the night, gentlemen. Now, go, stuff yourselves into each other's posteriors if you would." The guards huffed angrily before marching away.

Cuwarr turned to the woman with a smile, and although her features were harder to determine because of the cloth on his eyes, the warlord still managed to grin. "And, through what combination of letters do I address this white lotus before me?"

@Vesuvius00 @SevenStormStyle

Kalani and her family were not surprised that she was chosen for this year's Reaping. In fact, they might have even expected it. She was a strong, beautiful Gem after all. However, that did not mean that they did not feel scared or horrified once they found out that Kalani was going to be married off to one of those awful Drakken. Her mother sobbed as her father tried to hold her back as Kalani was retrieved. But Kalani did not shed a single tear. She let her sadness, fear, and anger simmer inside of her. She had to do this for her people, in order to ensure another year of peace. Her freedom was a small price to pay for the lives of all the other Gems.

As she sat in the carriage, she did not say a word to anyone. She simply gazed out the opening and watched the moving scenery. After a moment when she got tired, she closed her eyes to rest. It was not an easy ride to take a nap in though as there were many bumps on the road that often caused the carriage and her to jump. "I hope we get there soon," she thought to herself with annoyance. "This is already giving me more of a headache than I should have."

Soon enough, the carriage had reached a stop and they have arrived at their destination. Kalani slowly got out of the carriage and was led to a chamber where she was to "pretty herself up" for the Drakken lords like she was some kind of pageant contestant. She pulled out a dress that her mother have given her before she was taken away. It was her wedding dress. Her mother had wanted her daughter to wear it for her own marriage, but Kalani was starting to feel bitter. She stared down at the simple, white gown. The fabric was light and the design was loose-fitting. She slipped into it and admired herself in the mirror. She really looked like the pictures of her mother that she has seen. She twirled, watching the dress flutter around her. She wondered what it would have been like to actually be getting married to a person of her own choosing. Unfortunately that was not the case.

Realizing that she was wasting time, Kalani began to work on her hair. She combed her hair and then made a braided bun. She took one last look in the mirror and one deep breath. She walked out the door where more Drakken guards were waiting for her. They led her to the choosing hall where she saw many Gems and Drakkens. Some have already been chosen as it seems as the two kinds were mingling. Her eyes searched the room as she was curious as to what kind of Drakken would be her future dear husband.

Zakroti watched her remove the strange creations from her feet, furrowing his brow. "Kastakieiz varlas, what are those supposed to be?" He asked in disbelief that she had subjected herself to them; They were massive, it was no wonder that she was having trouble standing up in them. But now that they were removed she stood so unbelievably short that to the casual observer he would have looked like a giant...

And then she curtsied to him and introduced herself by name; Aymiria Cassiel. "I am glad I could help, Aymiria, it's my pleasure to meet you." He replied, making sure to smile back to her when she looked up to him. She appeared to be calming somewhat and he hardly wanted to give her reason for concern again- He remembered the horrible things the Karstagg did and had no wish to hear of them again.

Then she glanced off to the side and the followed her gaze towards his family, turning back toward her "I see you have picked my kin out from the crowd. That pleasant looking man is my Grandfather Nastaki, patrician of House Unalim and Muthseran of Osh Edehame, who is probably wondering why he hasn't killed me yet. The one staring at the redhead who just came down the stairs is my brother Qeynate, Orth of Orsayl; he might be a lecherous little beast but he is not too bad. The young girl standing between them is my Niece, Ayltam Unalim, daughter of my late brother who was also called Nastaki." Zakroti motioned to each of them as he spoke about them and as if on cue the Muthseran of Osh Edehame turned away quickly and began speaking to one of his knights.

Then the young Gem looked away and spoke again. Zakroti listened carefully to what she had to say; Ah, she sounded as though she was rather intelligent and already had some understanding of how Drakken politics worked. "Well as you can probably tell, I am a sad underdeveloped excuse for a Drakken Lord- so it's rather fitting, isn't it?" Zakroti replied in jest, a wry smile on his face "But you are right of course, if I take a good one then perhaps my Grandfather will only yell at me for half a day instead of all next week."

Zakroti turned his head ever so slightly and glanced towards the fire gem that Aymiria was talking about. Traditionally beautiful wasn't exactly how he would describe her, if only for her clothing; a dull red-brown sleeveless shirt and a skirt of similar fabric. The two pieces of clothing did not come to meet either, revealing her nasal. That wasn't how one dressed for court, certainly, though for some reason it was quite eye-catching. "She is dressed very strangely; not how a lady would dress, certainly." Zakroti commented with a slight tilt of his head. His grandfather might not approve of the decision based on her clothing, it was certainly a gamble.

A few moments he motioned for Miry and the guard to follow and began to cross the room towards the young girl, the two Blackguard still flanking him. Ayltam broke forward from Nastaki and Qeynate and approached her uncle

"Naka wre, Zak. Niz a Sancre Kala o. Ni o hilyat wredzi?" Ayltam said quickly to Zakroti, a smile playing on her lips. Zakroti seemed to consider for a moment before nodding

"Wre ni, Ayltam. Niz a Aymiria Cassiel." Zakroti replied to the young girl with a smile, motioning to Aymiria as they moved

"Zak, a Aymiria selan?" Ayltam asked with no shortage of curiosity. Zakroti nodded again.

"O ulma geh a, doon ni epe." Zakroti replied. Ayltam nodded and glanced towards Aymiria with an almost nervous sile, she opened her mouth to say something but was cut off when Zakroti, having reached their destination, spoke again. Ayltam instantly looked forward again, examining the Gem that Zakroti was speaking to.

"What a curious choice on clothing, very different to what your fellow Gems are wearing. May I have your name?" Zakroti asked her with a slight smile on his face, a single brow still raised in curiosity at her appearance. It certainly was unusual, though now that he was closer and had a better view it became apparent that it wasn't as dull as he had first thought, with several beautiful jewels reflecting the light; No doubt what had been catching his eye earlier

@WeepingLiberty@RomanAria

Atreyu's hand snapped out almost the second she finished talking. Exon couldn't even call her foolish, besides the fact that she spoke at all beyond the question he asked, it wasn't her fault that the first words out of her mouth dusted over a slightly sore spot. His hand grabbed the girl right behind her jaw bone and yanked forward, smooshing her face forward. Saisri was lucky that Atreyu was the one that reached her first, he only meant to cause mild pain and humiliation. Panitra's own hand was retreating and Ex could tell by his face that, had Atreyu not gotten there first, Panitra was going to owe him a new bride. If fact, he could still see it all over his face, the thousand ways that Saisri could die before making it to Sheershreek, the Xe'Jah lordom.

"Well, good find little brother," said Atreyu, forcing the girl's head up to look at him. "You know, I've personally had many brides before, although none as...spirited. It would be an honor to teach her her first lesson. Think of it as a wedding gift,"

Exon crossed his arms, pretending to think it over. "I think not, brother," he said. "While she will be punished for offending you, as her dear husband I shall take the burden. Besides, you might ruin her best traits," While he knew his brothers would take great offense by her mouth, he personally had found it amusing. She would need guidance and training, that was certain, but he found that he was liking his choice more and more.

Atreyu considered the girl for a moment longer before releasing her with a shove that sent her crashing into Exon, who caught her lightly. "As for you, little one, you will have to learn your place here. But, we'll have time for that tonight. To answer your question, I'm Exon Xe'Jah, third (soon to be second) in line for Xe'Jah estate. You may call me m'lord, m'lord husband, or m'dear husband," he said, the slightest hint of mocking in his voice. "And these are my brothers, first and second in line," he said, without clarifying which was which. "And you may also call them m'lord, and you will show them respect," He then steadied Saisri on her feet before turning back to his /slightly/ less angry brothers. "Now, I am assuming that this little spat has just cost me the cream of the crop when it comes to brides, so, let's not waste anymore time. I'm still missing a wife,"

Exon didn't trust his brothers to not take out small acts of cruelty on Saisri while they searched for his new bride, so he kept a hold on her upper arm, keeping her close while they searched. By now it seemed that all those, or nearly all those entitled to a bride had arrived with their party, although some definitely arrive alone. He recognised many of the faces from participating in various battles throughout his life time.

He took notice of Cuwarr, if only because the man was so...noticeable? Perhaps even more than the female warlord. He parted from a girl in an elaborate dress. She seemed so...sad and distance, shockingly like his mother. Exon despised his mother. Yet, he couldn't help but notice the...interested glances his brothers kept giving the girl. It was clear that, had they been choosing their own brides, this....sad girl would have been at the top of their list.

Perhaps she was just...overwhelmed and would get over it. If not, well, at least he'd have a gift to appease Panitra into /not/ killing Saisri. "Gem," he ordered, when he approached Nadia. With a final glance up and down at the girl./At least she has the decency to be pretty enough if I have to deal with her sadness/ he thought, before reaching out to grab the girl. "Come,"

"Ah, little brother, perhaps you do have decent tastes in Gems," said Panitra, eyeing Nadia with such a look of hunger that it made Exon feel uncomfortable for her.

"I do have excellent tastes," he agreed, taking each of his brides in one of his hands and leading them towards the wall, away from the center of activity. There had only been one fight, if you could call it that, so far and Exon was anxious for more. Hopefully one involving death.

Now that he had both of his brides, it was only a matter of time until they returned to his mountain home.
The Xe’Jah had been lords of the northern mountains since before the Drakkan had started keeping records of any sort. They were the last lordom before the range that lead to the endless, icy tundra desert on the other side. The geothermic property made the area appear lush in comparison to many of the other areas in Drakkan nearly all year round, which caused anything that ran away to flee towards the mountains. In times past, the Xe'jah had collect many brides, horses, slaves, and the occasional coward. Those who valued life above all else, would find that 'being found' by a Xe'Jah was a far kinder fate than allowing them to pass through the mountains. Many of the plants found there were poisonous and made a point to be slow about it. The green would hide the slick obsidian would slice through shoe and food all the same, then send the victim tumbling down in a pool of their own blood. On top of that, there were thousands of predatory animals who roamed the steep range, as prey never lasted long in the area. The Xe'Jah were the only ones who knew the safer passage ways through the mountain, which meant that they were usually the ones defending that northern section of the boarder. Although no one had attacked for years. The land more north, while technically Drakkan, was useless and only a fool would attempt to invade by the range.

@Vesuvius00@RomanAria

Sorrin didn't know what surprised her more; the fact that Vivari had heard and answered her question or that the answer came in the form of a female Drakken approaching her in the line. She had been one of the many things in the room to catch Sorrin's eye, but at first she had just assumed the woman to be an onlooker rather than a participant. Even as she approached Sorrin couldn't help but think that perhaps this Drakken had been sent to retrieve her for a male relative or something of the sort, but it didn't seem the case as she paused to kiss her hand. The sheer difference in size frightened Sorrin a little, but the gentle hand that shephered her away from the selection pool was reassuring in it's own way. As they came to a stop the small Gem found herself within the possesive grasp of the Drakken woman, a stance taken to ward off any of the others who might get any ideas of taking her away.

Her confusion was apparent as the woman introduced herself as Siadamkiru, even more so as she offered up a nickname that sounded overly familiar considering her current standing as a claimed object. Upon hearing Sia's words a few tears spilled over, rolling down her cheeks as Sorrin sniffed with relief. Any other Gem might have doubted the words of a Drakken warrior, but Sorrin didn't have any other inclination than to believe this savior. She might have been naive, but she wasn't blind by any means. It was blatantly clear what kind of people the Drakken race were, brutal and violent with no regard to what happened to those around them. Sorrin didn't know what she would have done if she had been plucked up by one of theose mosters. She didn't know for certain that Sia was telling her the truth but she also couldn't think of a reason to be lied to so she decided to put her faith in this savior.

Sorrin parted her lips to answer the question directed at her, a simple request for a name. However, when she opened her mouth to respond she was cut off by the voice of male who had suddenly appeared next to her. She involuntarily jumped, drawing in as close to Sia as she could in hopes that she would protect her from the unpleasant surprise. It took a moment to recover from the shock of his sudden appearance, but it rattled her that the man did in fact know her name.

"H-how do you know my name? I have never met one of your kind before today." She asked nervously, looking from the stranger to Sia as if her face alone would settle the confusion. Taking a deep breath, Sorrin swallowed before nodding her head as he spoke confirming that what he said rang true.

""What he says is true... I don't really know what's going on." She eyes fell to the floor as if she were ashamed but she quickly perked up, clenching her fists with a determined look.

"But I swear I will do my best, so please be patient with me." In a huff, Sorrin bent her torso in a respectful bow like her aunt had taught her when she was younger.

@RomanAria@WilsonTurner

---

Kasari hadn't been standing there for very long before she got to witness some of the infamous Drakken brutality. Mere moments after her arrival, a Drakken lord had roughly grabbed the arm of a rather fragile looking girl. She gritted her teeth angrily as she watched the display, a look of pure disgust crossing her features as she struggled against him. The girl looked like she was made of glass and he certainly didn't look like he was going to care for her well at all. Everything in her body wanted to run and help her in any way she could, but she knew she couldn't. Her brother's body lying unconcious on the ground flashed back through her mind, rooting her to her spot. Clenching her eyes shut Kasari forced herself to turn away, crossing her arms in front of her absently.

She tried not to think too much about what was happening in front of her eyes, telling herself that they showed off their worst as a scare tactic to keep more rowdy girls like her in line. That didn't stop her from turning a curious eye toward a newly picked bride whose eyes she was certain fell on her. Sure enough the Drakken she had ended up with glanced over at her with a calculating gaze. She wasn't sure yet whether or not this pleased her or pissed her off, but either way she found herself straightening up her posture some and dropped her arms to rest her hands on her hips. Not wanting to be caught looking directly at them, Kasari turned her head so that she could watch them discretely. Out of the corner of her eye she picked up on movement that confirmed that they had indeed been looking at her, only she was surprised by how many people showed up to stand before her.

Having not travelled alone Kasari ended up under the gaze of at least four Drakken, a bit nerve wracking for the young girl but not anything she couldn't handle. Maintaining her neutral expression, she looked right at the Drakken that was speaking to her as he was obviously the one doing the choosing out of the group. She almost laughed as he mentioned her attire, finding it almost laughable that out of all the things to comment on he had chosen that. Eyes sparkling with amusement Kasari thought a moment about her answer before speaking.

"You don't like it?" She asked looking down in mock insult, twisting about in that fashion girls did when trying to get a males attention.

"What a pity, this particular style is really popular in the village you lot took me from. Helps keep the body cool when performing with fire." Kasari grasped both sides of her skirt as she curtsied, quickly returning her gaze back to the Drakken.

"I'm Kasari Liesma, by the way, a pleasure to make your acquaintance m'lord."

@darkwolf687

@Ellion
Saisri hissed in pain but did not waver, continuing to look up at Atreyu. Her eyes were calm, and she stood passively, a small smile still on her mouth.

“My lord, I do not mean to detain your search any longer; nor do I mean to offend these… honorable lords.” her voice dripped false honey, but she maintained her placid stance and look.

She didn’t like how tight his hand was on her upper arm; did he seriously think she was going to try to get away from this adventure? Nonetheless, his fingers were uncomfortable; she flexed her bicep a bit. Though she didn’t have particularly bulky muscles, they were toned from years and years of swimming.

As the Drakken made a selection of his bride, Saisri sized the girl up. She wasn’t terribly, terribly small, maybe four inches shorter than Saisri was, but fragile, clearly lacking confidence. She seemed shy and, judging by the slightly red, wet eyes, had been crying.

Saisri gave her a kind smile, taking the girl’s free hand (the one not gripped by Exon). She gave what she hoped was an encouraging squeeze and said as warmly as she could, “My name is Saisri Tyalanthe. It is an honor to meet so lovely a daughter of Pyrus.” She said it as calmly as she could, as though there wasn’t a Drakken with a death-grip on her bicep, as though his brothers weren’t staring at the two girls with a combination of murder and lust in their eyes.

Juuust an adventure. Right.

---

@weepingliberty@wilsonturner
Sia smiled at the smaller girl and wiped her eyes with a gentle hand. “You have nothing to fear, child. I promise.”

As the male voice spoke up next to her, Sia instinctively wrapped one arm around the small girl, the other hand going for the short sword on her hip. But she relaxed as she realized it was only “Valryk Galak.”

She listened to what he had to say and couldn’t resist slightly curling her lip. What was he, insulting her intell—Oh.

“Impudent bastard, I should blow your cover right here and now.” She muttered, glaring at the Gemminite imposter. ”But I’m not going to because I admire you for getting yourself in here without dying.” Then she looked down to Sorrin and realized with a jolt that the girl was bowing.

She put her palm on Sorrin’s abdomen and applied gentle pressure, forcing the girl to stand upright. “Sorrin, you do not bow to me, you do not bow to anyone. From now on you are my equal. You are my bride, my “wife” if you would prefer me to call you that, not my property. If anything, I should like for you to become a friend, if not a sister… goodness knows a girl needs a friend in this place.” She lifted Sorrin’s chin, meeting the girl’s green eyes with her gold ones, and smiled.

---

@darkwolf687 @weepingliberty
Miry grimaced as the Drakken eyed her shoes, then looked her over. Of course, she should have left those devices on her feet. He would have found out eventually but then it would be too late for him to pawn her off on someone else for being a hopeless runt.

”These are a contraption my sister came up with, she calls them heel-risers. They’re supposed to make me look less like a child, but all they’ve managed to do is make me tumble down the stairs and blister my feet.” Miry spoke matter-of-factly, looking up at the Drakken. As the lord introduced his family, she eyed each of them quickly, but looked away, not wanting to draw their attention. She’d be getting to know them all very well, after all. Well… hopefully not the grandfather. He looked… murderous. The brother, sure, looked lustful and dumbstruck. The niece was just sweet, naive, and innocent. But the grandfather... There was something about him, something that hinted at insanity, or at the least an all-consuming lust for power.

She shuddered. She would do well to avoid him.

Her eyes trailed back to Zakroti. It seemed as though he was actually considering her suggestion. When he motioned for her to follow, she hesitated for a second, not sure what to do with the foot contraptions, then decided to leave the shoes where they were. Of course, this now meant that she was walking around with bare feet and had no alternative shoes (as Aery had neglected to pack a pair for her) but she decidedly would rather have sticky bare feet than painful, wobbly tiptoe-feet.

She smiled shyly up at the sister, then tilted her head in confusion. They were… were they speaking a different language? After all, she heard the names… Ayltam, and Zak… Short for Zakroti? And her own name. She filed the sounds away in her head, to go through them later. Then she looked up at Ayltam. Something about the young girl was so… lovable. She seemed so sweet and hopeful, smiling shyly at her.

“It is an honor to meet you, Lady Ayltam. And please call me Miry; Aymiria is too much of a mouthful.” Miry said softly, as she smiled up at the girl and offered a small curtsy. She opened her mouth to say more, but then stopped as she realized that Zakroti was already speaking to the pretty fire gem.

Miry stiffened a bit at the girl-- Kasari’s almost… arrogant way of speaking. It seemed she was almost cocky, bitterness and anger apparent in her voice. Miry could understand that, of course, but couldn’t see a point in resisting. Sure, her sister had talked brashly, but her sister was also of the size where her back could be broken by any Drakken. Her resistance would be seen as an endearing token.

But Kasari? She was tall and strong-looking, for a gem girl, anyway, and almost as tall as the Drakken whom was about to claim her – At this point Miry wondered if she should configure a brace for her neck so that it wouldn’t get sore from walking around looking up all the time – and there was a fire in her eyes, an almost cocky smirk on her mouth as she feigned insult. For certain, she looked like she’d put up a fight, like she might actually be able to rebel and not be squashed down instantly.

Kasari looked like, carried herself like, a fighter. Miry wasn’t sure if she should be scared, excited, or envious.

"We weren't the first creatures on this Earth, you know." Her father mused, his features both wild with imagination and amusement at his young daughter's reaction to his stories. She was a small thing with wide golden eyes that usually frightened the other children. "When the world was first made, it was filled with weird and wonderful creatures but among them, the dragons, the children of Pyrus, were the most wise of all beings. Their fires lit the great mountains and burned with the heat of a thousand million suns." The young Atallia was estatic at this point, cowering behind her sheets but still engrossed. Her father continued, a smirk dancing on his lips. "They reigned over air and land and were regarded as the kings of all creatures. They were the fiery fist of Pyrus, the weapons to halt the vile children of Vivari. For aeons, they fought with the dark Gods and eventually, they helped the Great Mother forge the Mountains of the Spine."

His story telling seemed palpable; her father had a way with words that was undeniable. Suddenly, his tone took on a much darker one. "But the dragons, although great and wise, were corruptable, and many fell to the sways of the vile Gods. Their power was so great that if they fell to evil, it would spell the end of the Elder Gods so Vivari cut the tether of life and they were no longer capable of producing children." This was met by a loud gasp from the young girl who had dropped the quilt and crawled forward to listen to the story. "Eventually, all the dragons faded away until one was left - Tal. He was a noble dragon, ancient, knowledgeable and a friend of Pyrus. He too was dying and in fiery resistance to his mother's wishes, Pyrus granted Tal an immortal spirit. That he would never fade from this world." Her father ducked down, coming close as he rounded off his story. "But Tal was lonely for his people had long since faded from the world. And so it was that one day, he found a young woman dying alone in the forest. She had been happened upon by horned devils and they had left her to die. Tal spoke with her for a long time and comforted her so that her death would be painless. As she lay dying, however, he could not bring himself to see such innocence stolen from the world so the gift that was granted to him from Pyrus was passed to the young girl. And that day, death did not take her but the ancient and noble dragon." Tears filled the young girls eyes as she looked upwards but her father smiled gently and patted her curls of brown. "The young woman was sad for a time, that the great dragon had traded his life for hers, but as she grew, she realised that with his spirit, the dragon had granted her great power. Years later, as raiding parties reached the first towns and villages, reports came back of a great warrior in the mists who danced with dragonfire and wherever innocent blood was spilled, the great spirit of the dragon would come again to protect those who could not protect themselves."

Her tears had dried at that point and, with wild golden eyes, she buried herself in her father's stomach, her arms curling tightly around him. "Some people still reckon that the spirit of the dragon will return and free us all. But until then, we have to keep fighting with everything we have so that the Great Dragon didn't die for nothing. Ok?" His smile danced and blurred and everything faded with a rocky bump and a harsh voice.

"Get a move on! Out you get!"

Atallia blinked back sleep from her eyes; she had been dreaming again. Her dreams were wild things, calling back to the days of her youth but she had no use for them now. Dragons were gone and the world was filled with horrors beyond counting. Living in hope of the return of a great warrior was pointless. They didn't need a warrior - they would burn the bastards themselves. Fire Gems were renowned for being rebellious and the young Talli wasn't exactly an exception to that, she was the living proof of it. For that reason, the guard kept his hand on his sword as she fixed him with a dark glare. "That way! Take your stuff and move!" She jumped down, trailing her chest before two massive Drakken guards fell into line with her, forcing her to walk in the direction the other guard had dictated for her.

It wasn't long until she ended up being roughly pushed into a small changing room. There was a bath and an outfit already laid out for her, apparently. A long, flowing black dress and without even donning the thing, she knew it would hug way too much and expose a lot more. Letting the growl of annoyance die in her throat, her frown turned on the bath and in silent resignation of fate, she stripped and climbed into the cold water to bathe quickly. She hated being cold but it had to be done. Once she had towelled down and pinned her hair up in a style that portrayed some eloquence before the tangled remains of the style betrayed that eloquence. The black dress was horrible. Well, it was lovely but that was exactly why it was horrible - the black seemed to juxtapose the royal gold of her eyes and it's hugging tightness alluded to some curvature of the small Gem. Not to mention but the bastards had also somehow figured out about her tattoo and left the shoulders open, exposing her dragon. The shoes were plain but sloped upwards just enough to make them uncomfortable to move in. She wasn't making a runner in them, apparently. Running was for cowards anyways.

So, with fire in her eyes and a little bit of awkwardness in her strides, she left the changing room and descended down into the sea of horny Drakkens and terrified Gems. Or possibly the other way around - some of her sisters seemed to forget who the real enemy was and made quite the show of themselves. Atallia did the exact opposite. Moving just as far as she needed to, she stopped and allowed her arms to cross, leaning her weight on one leg as she watched the moving room with molten eyes. Fire danced cautiously across them and anyone watching would have noticed the gold take on red flecks before resolving to the shiny royalty of their normal state. Way too much royalty for one room to handle.



"I want that one! Oh, no! I want that one! Are they twins? Fuck! I want twins! Jynal - I demand that you get me those Twins! Threesomes are a wonderful celebration of life!" Rynek was in his element or more appropriately, Rynek was fairly close to Nirvana. Pretty little Gems everywhere and all he wanted was a threesome but as it turned out, they were just out of his reach.

Jynal sighed, adjusted his spectacles and shook his head. "As I already told you, my Prince, these girls are only going in now. You can't take them because the other Lords would start complaining." The man was a Gem as his lack of horns pointed out but he made for a decent advisor and Rynek's father unfortunately insisted that he tagged along to make sure he doesn't do really stupid stuff.

Nevertheless, he frowned and pouted a little. "Fine!" He drew out, his voice exasperated as he looked around at his guards. They were a merry bunch, his bastards. He always told them - he didn't need an army, just twenty good men and he could reap havoc. Some of them wore the heavy blacksteel with the branded wolf of the Darions indicating them to be the Royal Guard who were famed for being vicious cunts who would cut down anyone who got in their way. The rest of his guard were made up of fuckwits, to put it simply. They were the sort of men that were defined by three simple things - fucking, drinking and killing which they were all fairly good at. Rynek was something similar to them but unlike them, he had some thought behind his actions. Or, at least, he put some thought into the repercussions.

"Threesomes?" A soft voice questioned, almost too quiet for the rest of them to hear but Rynek had good ears and his younger sister interested him, to an extent. For the daughter of the King and at least some relationship to him, she was a little runt that was terrified of her own shadow but that in itself interested him. She held on and survived despite everything piling up on her. His eyes turned and like a million times before, he found himself summing his little sister up before he grinned.

"Excellent question, Aely! Well... When a man loves a woman who also kinda digs other women..." Eventually, what became an explanation soon became a demonstration where Rynek very helpfully parted both index and middle fingers before slotting the two together in a repetitive motion and lazily attempting to stick a thumb into the whole process. Needless to say, Aeila was left wide-eyed and almost as red as the curls that decorated her head. Jynal sighed in annoyance and his guards shifted restlessly, the talk of sex perhaps a little too close to home for the needy bunch.

Before long, they had dismounted and wandered into the great halls of Shadow Worth. Various lords and chieftans had already gathered for the choosing and Rynek would have gone amiss if it wasn't for the short girl beside him. As they moved further into the building, she seemed to attract greater and greater attention. None ever whispered in gossip - they knew all about the white-haired Prince who she rushed to follow. Aeila never realised what the outside world was like. She had only ever seen the inside of the Drakkan Capital Fortress and a few fleeting glimpses of bustling markets of trade so as curious as they were to her, she was to the building and those gathered inside it. Her eyes traced the beautiful architecture with awe and she very nearly tripped over Rynek but righted herself somehow. Tripping over her older brother on her first public appearance since her arrival in Draka probably wouldn't have went down well. She remembered the last gift of advice her father gave her - look weak and you'll be treated as such. And so, almost subconciously, she righted her vision like Rynek who was strutting down the corridor like a man on a mission and wandered after him, red hair dancing out behind her.

Rynek burst into the claiming chamber like he knew there was an old friend behind it and technically there was - virgins. He had missed them. The southern nations liked breaking their girls in early and due to the fact that he had a little bit of standards, he had to make-do with some second-hand merchandise. But these lovelies were ripe for the picking and oh he was going to pick them something serious. "This is heaven, little sister! Blondes, brunettes; horny little minxes and celibate religious girls! A man could lose himself in here!" Sighing in pure bliss, he descended the stairs and began roaming. Rynek was like a child in a sweetshop except instead of sweets, it was crying Gem girls but basically the same thing to Rynek - tasty but they didn't last very long.

It had been years since he had last been to a Gem claiming and he had to admit that he missed it sorely. When you're off fighting a bunch of barbarians that don't even bother shaving down there, one can get quite upset with the quality and nature of those whom you fuck. That quality was guaranteed with these lot though. Aelia hurried after him, drawing too many glares for her own liking. She felt almost as exposed as the poor Gems who were currently being paraded like cattle. "You know, Aely, I think I'm a pretty good brother! Look, I'm taking you out on nice excursions like this and if you're really lucky, I might buy you a girl! You could have horrible brothers like good ol' Zakles over there. Ever heard what he did to his sisters? Interesting story, actually! Oh and Loofa - he wasn't meant to take over his house but let's just say those plans changed. Haha! What a lovely bunch!" Aeila naturally shifted closer to him, her eyes cautiously watching for anyone who dared step too close to her. She felt uncomfortable here and in a weird way, she longed for the quiet confinement of the Fortress. Aeila wasn't stupid; about the only thing she had going for herself was her brains and she realised that she was a symbol of the current King's shortcomings. She was his weakness and to any man who wished to take the throne next, she would be a valuable conquest.

Rynek on the other hand, was silently questioning if foursomes had any clear advantages over threesomes apart from the obvious inclusion on an extra person. Interesting stuff. Jynal butted in again, his voice annoying and incessant. "There are the twins you longed for earlier, my liege! Although they are claimed, I'm sure none would dare stand in your way!" Rynek frowned and lowered his vision to the beady eyes of the Gem. There was something about him that just set him off but he couldn't be bothered pissing his Father off so he left the man in a somewhat decent state. Most in the room hadn't exactly noticed Rynek's presence. They noticed his bastard sister's, strangely, but she had taken the rest of the exposure from him. He quite liked his sister but he was intrigued in just how well she would do by herself. When she turned away for a moment to catch a glimpse of a crying girl being dragged off, Rynek disappeared into the crowd, closely following by his personal advisor.

The young prince had spotted a sliver of silver in the sea of horns and dresses and something drew him close. Dipping through the crowds, his smiles faded as he finally stopped and tilted his head, taking her in. She was a waif and her skin seemed almost as pale as her hair but surprisingly, her body lusciously tucked in to feminine curves that made him wander just what she would be like without all those pretty clothes. Excellent! Threesomes were out of the question now but who needed a threesome when you had one special lady in your life. Or at least, into the foreseeable future before she was offed.

Some horned fellow was talking to her before leaving so Rynek dipped in quickly, not caring to look after the fellow. His loss. Within a moment, Rynek was on her. Figuratively, of course; he was leaving the physical getting-on for at least when she had answered some important questions. Bending down to her level, he eyed her suspiciously, stroking his chin all the while. He cirled her once before pausing and frowning, his eyes squinting in distrust. "Question one - which is more preferable? Death by a questionable amount of sex or a long life filled with shitty sex? Question two. If I gave you a knife right now, what would you do with it?"

While Rynek was somehow attempting to win over the Gem who had captured his eyes, Aeila was hopelessly lost and too small to figure out where her older brother was. Her breathing came quick in rapid bursts and although she was trying hard to cover her terror, she realised that she was drawing a lot more attention now that Rynek wasn't with her. She had to prove her strength and she couldn't do that if he was constantly looking out for her but in all honesty, she was terrified. The King had no ties to her now and she wasn't under his protection. Breathing, she felt her eyes slip closed. She had no choice but to do this and if she got through it, she would be fine. It was just difficult. Insanely difficult. Way too difficult for a young Drakken who barely even had the guts to lift a blade.

@Obscene Symphony

Collab with @Vesuvius00

---

Kaivor was as uncomfortable as he'd ever been in his life. While the Gemminite brides were a part of life for Drakken nobles, Kaivor couldn't help but feel a bit guilty. What he didn't understand is why he felt guilty. Surely, the other Drakken that were here weren't feeling guilty for taking a Gem bride. Something about the forced marriage felt, off, he supposed. He decided to walk around while he wrestled with these thoughts. He wandered into a small room, with several Gemminite women and some sullen looking Drakken guards. While all of the Gemminite women possessed some level of beauty, Kaivor found himself interested in one praticular Gemminite. It was not her appearance that intrigued him, but rather, the book she was reading.

It was an excellent work of fantasy, by a pre-drakken Gemminite woman. He had read the book several times, and had it on a list of his favorite books. It was called Water's Silence, though the title had never made much sense to him. Without thinking, he gently placed a hand on her shoulder and said

"Good book, eh?" He smiled shallowly. "Where are you at?"

"Careful with that one, Kai." Said an old Drakken guard he vaguely recognized. "She's a handful." Kaivor withdrew his hand and stepped back.

"Is that so?"

Onyx was so caught up in her book, she jumped at a sudden hand on her shoulder, and a voice at her ear. As she was about to answer the Drakken's question, she was interrupted by one of the guards warning him that she was 'a handful'. With a slight laugh she responded. "I don't see how, all I've done is read, and tell off a few of the brutish guards that had tried to take the book from me." She looked down at the book in her hands before placing a small leaf between the pages and closing it.

"The prince just died, and his mother is about to speak with Panam in the gardens. Have you read this before?" She asked. It did seem strange that a Drakken would recognize this work, a tragic fiction of forbidden love, especially considering that each Drakken here was some kind of warlord. Perhaps he'd been bluffing her. She smiled a little as she spoke next, testing him. "I love how the two families make up in the end, agreeing to let their children love who they wished."

"It has been awhile since I've read it, but I'm fairly positive that doesn't happen." He smiled fondly, remebering how he almost cried at the ending. "I'm still reeling from that ending, I can't believe that Edric dies in the end. He raised a brow questioningly "Tell me, Gemminite. What is your name? I'm Kaivor, though most call me Kai."

Onyx's smile turned genuine as he passed her little test. So there were Drakken that cared for things other than fighting. "Onyx Briyll, and it is nice to meet you, Lord Kaivor." She spoke formally at first although after a moment, "May I reffer to you as Kai as well, my Lord?" She supposed she seemed childish and indecisive now, asking to call him what he had introduced himself as. Shaking her head slightly, she questioned him again, changing the subject. "Have you read many Gemminite books?"

"As many as I could get my hands on. They aren't exactly...common in Drakka. Yes, you may call me Kai. Everyone does." He shifted from foot to foot uncomfortably. "If-uh." Kaivor stumbled over his words."If you have no quarrels with it, I'd like to choose you as my bride." He tried to speak with authority, yet the words sounded meek.

He was asking her to be his bride? That wasn't what she'd thought would happen, although as she thought she was almost excited now. She'd met a rather interesting Drakken indeed, and definately didn't want to take any chances where she might end up with one of the brutes in the room whose brain was probably smaller than the tip of a quill... She realized she'd merely been staring at Kai for the last few seconds as her thoughts had distracted her, and curtsied slightly as she spoke. "No quarrels at all, Kai. I am glad to have been chosen by a Drakken such as yourself."