Viviane Elize Kresznik|Baths

Viviane went through the tried process of taking off her armor easily slipping her fingers to undo straps and buckles that held up her armor. Laying it neatly on the ground the breast plate than the greaves in front with the shoulders to the side with the forearm armor resting to side as well. Carefully she undid parts of the braids in her hair while systematically undoing the ponytail it was in. Before that she took off her rough leather tunic and folding it neatly as well. She wouldn't admit it to anyone but she was tired and sore days upon days of travel to reach her current location took a toll and it showed with multiple sores along her body from sleeping in her armor. Standing tall despite her short stature her pale skin showing what looked like a fragile figure but in truth she was the exact opposite. She stepped into the bath her head held high she was proud of her body there was no shame in showing it in her opinion. Sticking her foot to test the waters she slipped in across from the other two before leaning her head back and letting out a content sigh.

Fanilly took a deep breath. Part of her was cursing herself, deep down. What was she thinking? Why, of all things, would the Knight-Captain of the Iron Roses hold a meeting with new in a public bath?! This was stupid! Phenomenally stupid! Why was she doing this? But even the dissenting part of her mind had to acknowledge she had already established the conditions of their meeting. The two older girls had followed her into the bath, as well. There was no getting out of it now. At the very least, the water was soothing. Not only was it always clean and always warm, but it had light healing properties. Mild injuries, such as bruises and cuts, would mend on bathing in it. Such was the blessing of Mayon.

The girl had not even noticed the bruising on her neck, from the Three Hundred Man-Slayer's attempt to strangle her into unconsciousness, but it was already fading to nothing due to the healing influence of the water.

"... N... n-now, this... may seem like an awkward place to hold our first meeting, but I must admit I was unable to speak with you b-before now and would... like to..."

Fanilly, having felt somewhat prepared, trailed into silence as she saw Sult ranting to herself, yelling her complaints in the middle of the water. She watched, wide-eyed and in confusion, as the older girl complained about... everything, and a few matters Fanilly had not heard of before. At least, until the knight realized she was not alone.

"... Is... is... is something the matter, Dame Sult...?"

It was all that the small blonde could manage in the wake of the outburst.

At the reaction from Marianne he refocused his gaze on her. “Probably some sort of beef or pork. Both of which are something wholly new to me in all honesty. I’m not terribly familiar with all of the delicacies the nobles in Thaln consume, my own fault really. Im use to plainer food than the rich food that usually appears on my plate.” With a chuckle he tilted his head at her reaction. This was certainly interesting as the amount of real human interaction he’d had since he had arrived with the Knights was rather minimal; probably largely due to his background and stature.

Perhaps earlier had been a bit much

Looking up again Sir Garrett was reminded that he was entertaining an audience as his eyes flicked down the row of maids again. It finally dawned on the big man that they were half servant, half body guard. As he shifted his hands on the table it also dawned on him that this felt an awful lot like a test or an audition of sort.

Does she actually know who I am was the comment about eating with allied nobility a shot in the dark?

Choosing to ignore it for now Sir Garrett twisted his clan bracelet running his fingers over the runes as he contemplated where to direct the conversation. Perhaps food was a safe enough topic given that after some testing with the teasing and the reactions he’d drawn from the maids asking her anything more than mundane would probably not go over well. Now he was uneasy with the maids simply standing observing their dialogue; it was probably just because they would not be eating. Eating while others went unfed was incredibly uncomfortable when food was available since it made him feel like he was not properly sharing a bounty with those around him.

“When I first came to live here for almost two months I’d skip meals here and go find trail rations because it was much closer to what I was use to. I was alos afraid that the easy food would make me soft.” With a snort he adjusted the bracelet on his left wrist before continuing. “I honestly think it's the baths that have made me softer. Its easier to let yourself go when you can relax in warm water. Another luxury I only enjoyed in the winters since we were forced back to the holdfasts to winter.”

Continuing to not meet her eyes he let his gaze wander the rest of the room. “I don’t think I could have grown up here and lived a life like this. I still can’t stand all the stone and wood. It's so stifling, I prefer the open sky, the horse blankets, and the hide tents. When I was first here I took to sleeping in the stables. Another habit I had to kick but the horses were really the only thing I understood since no matter where I go they always treat me like family.”

Smiling he returned his stare to her. “So now that I’ve talked all about myself I think it’s your turn don’t you? That or I’ll be forced to ask your maids.” It was teasing but he was careful to pay attention to her reaction. Sir Garrett wasn’t sure what it was but something about him or the way he talked seemed to make the Lady Knight tense. Hopefully she didn’t actually think him a barbarian. Much as he looked and could sometimes act the part his clan was as noble as the families here in Thaln. The only difference was that his family had taken their nobility at the point of a sword more recently than the families of Thaln and the rest of Velt.

Before she could respond he broke his silence cutting her off as he realized he hadn’t addressed something that had been bothering him. “For the record what Dame Sult did was incredibly rude. No one likes to be the center of attention like that and I don’t think you are use to being laughed at. Which is understandable. I guarantee that she wouldn’t have reacted well to being on the receiving end of such a thing.”

@harinezumikouken

Sult stood there for a second, her face quickly becoming red as a beet as she submerged her mouth to obscure the high pitched noise that came from her lips as she realized she had spilled the beans in front of the captain.

But if she left now the bath, Nero would no doubt taunt her to death.

Sult swallowed and coughed her mouth, quickly composing herself. "My apologies captain. I am not well entirely, mostly because someone i know so well, the Knight-Captain of the Raven Knights, my twin brother is outside waiting. That man has skill to press my buttons."

It was then when she eyed the other two ladies in the bath. "Newcomers, aye? It is glad to see we still get more roses for our namesake." So cute, and tiny some people are She paused as she gained momentum and slid next to Fanilly, having grabbed a sponge and soap.

"Now let me perform my duty and scrub your lovely back, Captain! As an apology for my behaviour."

Fanilly stared for a few moments as she watched the knight sink into the water, bright red. This was an... intensely awkward situation, to say the least. It seemed that life had deemed things to be intensely awkward right after the knights returned from their mission. Fanilly hadn't known that Sult had a twin brother, however, though now that she thought of it she felt foolish for not realizing sooner. She'd heard of the Raven Knights previously, after all.

She took a deep breath. "It's not as if you'd be undergoing any sort of punishment, even if it was quite an, um... outburst."

Fanilly wasn't sure how to take the comments directed at herself. But before she could dwell on that more, Sult offered to scrub her back.

"... Er..."

Well... it was nothing her own maids hadn't done before. Still, in this context it seemed more embarrassing. The older girl had slid up beside her, offering it as a method of apology... And Fanilly really did need to get going on this meeting. She didn't want to be sitting in the bath all day, having a series of false starts.

"... F-fine. I'll just speak to the new knights while you do so."

Marianne Delacroix

Nodding upon the mention of his preference for dinner, she turned and motioned towards her maids. With a bow of the head and a curtsy, four of the seven left to retrieve Lady Marianne's and Sir Garrett's food. Turning her head back to face, Sir Garrett she didn't quite know how to continue on with the conversation. To her, the food that she had eaten as she grew up was simply food to her. To think that others considered her being able to eat whatever she wanted and was guaranteed at the very least three square meals a day a luxury, well...She had never thought of it like that. She knew that there were the poor who had nary a scrap to consume. But the idea that there were differing cultures in Thaln that lived that rugged lifestyle, by choice or not, was eye-opening to Marianne. She really needed to travel more.

Catching Sir Garrett's eye, she again saw him look towards her maids. Only this time, she saw that he appeared to grow a little uncomfortable. Frowning ever so slightly, she wondered if their presence bothered him for whatever reason. Perhaps she should dismiss them. Just as he began to fidget with the trinket he wore on his wrist, she did too. Lowering her eyes, she again messed with the placement of the utensils in front of her adjusting in her seat.

Thankfully, Sir Garrett continued to speak. Marianne's head raising once more to listen attentively. But again, the subject matter just made her realize just how privileged she was growing up. To think that 'easy food' could make one 'soft'. She could see what he meant, however. Many of the other allied noble families did tend to have rounder and larger bellies. Though she never saw her own family members with such rotund physiques, she wondered if it yet another attribute of differing cultures and customs. The food she was provided was always rather healthy, nothing ever too fatty or rich. Her intake of sweets was closely monitored as well, only allowed a treat when she had 'earned' it and done well with something. She and her brothers were never allowed to gorge themselves silly. Though, John hardly ever ate a thing. Paul ate as much as he pleased but never seemed to gain weight, the lucky dog.

Marianne envied Sir Garrett. Though his described childhood sounded far from luxurious, he had grown into a stronger and better man for it. Moreover, he sounded happier and free. It made it painfully aware to her that such simple things like bathing and the security of walls were things she had taken for granted. It wasn't to say she had a bad childhood, there was nothing but love and care for her from her parents and brothers. But, hearing Sir Garrett's stories made his youth seem more...romantic.

Lost in thought, she made a quiet squeak when he turned the conversation on its head and asked about her, having startled her. She didn't appreciate the hollow threat of digging information out of the maids, and shot him a frown for that remark. She wouldn't doubt they would be happy to oblige too, the chatty birds. She seemed to pout a little. She began to speak, but Sir Garrett had again spoken and cut her off before she could.

Sighing, Marianne shrugged.
"In hindsight it was a little funny, if not rude. I hold no ill will towards Dame Sult however. She helped you in waking me and it was rather effective, if not a little embarrassing for me. It is but a trivial thing to worry about as it is in the past. If anything, it's a memory to fondly remember and to laugh together over." she laughed softly and waved a hand at him to dismiss the subject away.
"Well, my childhood was nothing special when compared to yours, Sir Garrett. I grew up the youngest of three siblings, having two older brothers. We ate 'easy food', had 'softening baths' and lived in safe walls of stone and wood." she said with a mischievous smile of her own.
The mood was growing rather dull and she couldn't have that.
So, why not jest back and lightening things up?
"A rather standard youth as a noble. With everything provided for us as we were groomed through our years. The only different part being that we underwent training to become Delacroix Knights as well, following in papa et maman's footsteps. My older brothers were not able to complete their training, sadly. I was the only one to have the privilege of being chosen. Selected to go on pilgrimage to become an Iron Rose Knight. They were simply named Captains of their own platoon of Knights, Delacroix in name and blood. Yet not bearing the official title of a Delacroix Knight."
Seeing her maids return with their food, she waited for them to set the table before continuing.
"My eldest brother, Paul, was unable to learn magic."
She blinked, the corners of her lips tugged into a half-frown.
"Well, rather. He refused to learn magic. Much like you, he felt it to be a dishonorable method of conducting combat." she corrected herself, laughing.
"He felt that a true Knight and warrior should only do battle with blade, fist, and arrow. That the field was no place for fanciful tricks."
Picking up her fork and knife, she began cutting up her food. It was a simple dish with a small portion of rice, a cutlet of pork, and more than the remaining half piled with greens and vegetables.
"My second oldest brother, John, was a brilliant man and had a keen eye. He was unmatched in Archery competitions and took to magic naturally. However, he was physically frail when compared to myself and Paul. He could not fist fight or wield a blade."
After neatly sectioning off her food, she waited for Sir Garrett to eat first before taking her first bite. A maid poured her a goblet of water.
"What would you like to drink, Sir Garrett?" The maid standing next to him asked.

@Themerlinhawk

As she awaited Sult's backscrubbing, Fanilly continued, slightly more in the swing of things as time went on. Public bathing wasn't so bad... even if she still felt rather embarrassed. But now, she focused her attention on the newcomers. They were... well, the blonde girl seemed to have some sores from wearing her armor for so long, but that would likely clear up from the water. Thankfully. After a few moments of silence, she spoke again.

"Er... I suppose the best way to do this would be explaining your skills to me," Fanilly began. This felt so... awkward and unofficial, and yet there was really no way to get around it. She'd said they'd be meeting in the bath, therefore this was what they had to do. It wasn't as if she could simply... not hold any kind of meeting, just because she felt sort of awkward. Besides, she was feeling slowly more comfortable. Hopefully, that was a trend that would continue.

Sir Garrett listened intently purposefully refusing to touch his food until she had finished her story. At the mention of growing up behind walls and eating soft food he smiled sheepishly. The comments about walls and food had not be meant as demeaning it had simply been a story to give perspective on why he was the way he was. Now it seemed as though he’d put her on something akin to the defensive with his comments on living and how he’d personally grown up. While he’d enjoyed his youth it had been rough, dangerous, and uncomfortable. Not something he’d personally have wished on anyone else.

As Marianne switched over to talking about her training and her siblings Sir Garrett folded both his arms over themselves on the tabletop and leaned forward ever so slightly in interest at the mention of her training. So they lean magic as Knights? Fascinating. At the mention that both her brothers had not been able to complete the training he raised an eyebrow and took another look at the woman in front of him. Clearly I have underestimated you again. It wasn’t as though he’d thought she was incompetent, but knowing she was the only of her three siblings to actually complete their training was impressive.

At her explanation of Paul, Sir Garrett frowned fully. Your family denies the honor of Knight to someone who would refuse to learn magic? That seems rather absurd. Perhaps the trails were designed specifically to be only overcome with magic. Sir Garrett kept his face carefully schooled away from the look of disgust he was sure he’d have flashed at the thought if he hadn’t been paying attention to the thought.

Continuing to listen he nodded along with her explanation of her other brother. Sounds like he was a Keeper, and a true Keeper at that. Carefully holding his tongue until she was finished he made note to mention to her his suspicions of what John might be. Amazing how the world isn’t so different from home. Guess I’m not in such a foreign land. At the question about if he wanted a drink it shook him from his thoughts. “Yes, please. Thank you.” Pushing his goblet into range of the maid he sat back a bit from the table before bending back to his food. With a few quick cuts he sectioned the pork before taking a bite and finishing it.

“You know. This meat is a bit strange to me. It always comes off a much sweeter than the other things that are eaten here. Of course now that I know what sort of animal it comes from it makes a whole lot more sense.” Sir Garrett chuckled at the memory of the first time he’d seen a pig. It had been a rather interesting experience seeing an animal that was so damn fat. He’d come into contact with boars prior to his arrival in Thaln; however the domestic pigs had been a surprise.

“Your brother John. My people call him a Keeper; they are some of the most honored and valued members of our culture.” Taking another bite he washed it down with the water before he continued with the rest of his explanation. “Some of the most powerful magic users born to us are most often frail children. Children you would next expect to be born to the parents they are born to. We are taught by our elders and Shamans, if a clan requires one, that Keepers are born frail because their strength was used to contain and control the magic they are born with.

Adjusting Sir Garrett paused as it dawned on him that he was treading on dangerous ground as far as part of his own history was concerned. “When a Keeper is born it is celebrated and the others who are within fours years of age of the Keeper are introduced to them and they are told that it is their responsibility to make sure that the chores the Keeper would normally be given are taken care of. This usually isn’t that big of an issue as a Keeper usually has siblings but the practice exists because occasionally a Keeper is an only child which can be difficult on the parents. While the rest of a Keeper’s peers are taught to hunt, fight, and ride; Keepers are taught to control and use their magic in a limited fashion. They are also taught to read and write as well as the history of our people so they may teach future Keepers. Most often when outsiders meet a Clan they will deal directly with our Keepers, Elders and Chieftains. It is for this reason, many of us lack skill in reading, writing and diplomacy. Let alone the fact that we speak our own language.”

Taking another bite before he continued he let what he’d said sink in. Hoping she didn’t ask the obvious question. “Occasionally Keepers are called on to use their magic in service of a Clan; we call these Keepers a Shaman. Someone who can freely use their magic to assist the Clan’s leaders. More often than not is because we need some sort of divination, however sometimes it is because a clan needs to go to war, or if a Barrow becomes too deadly for the clans warriors to deal with. Sir Garrett trailed off at the last reason. “We are taught that magic is occasionally required but that it is not a gift but a burden. It is a way to cheat the way things are meant to be done. Keepers are not gifted but are given a truly titanic test which they must live their life in a particular way in order to prevent bad things from happening. This is why the clan honors them because they are the strongest of all of us.” With that Sir Garrett fell silent as he continued to eat. Until now his gaze had wandered but it had always returned to Marianne. Now it was carefully trained on his plate.

@harinezumikouken

Marianne Delacroix

Marianne took a little joy observing the various facial expressions Sir Garrett made as she spoke. His sheepish smile when he seemed to realize his inadvertent jab at her own upbringing. His leaning in when she spoke of her older brothers and their training, understanding it be genuine interest. The cocked eyebrow as he seemed to size her up. "What is that look for? Do I not seem the type to be able to undergo the rigors of knighthood training? You would do well not to underestimate me, sir." Marianne thought to herself. The frown when she mentioned how her eldest brother Paul failed to complete his training. Though, she didn't understand why he had nodded his head when she mentioned John.

Watching as one of her maids filled his goblet with water, she saw Sir Garrett take his first bite of food and took that as her cue. Starting on her meal shortly after him, she ate rather slowly. Taking small bites and as she chewed, she hid her mouth behind her free hand. Being careful to eat as neatly and politely as possible. She said nothing when Sir Garrett commented on the 'sweetness' of the meat, as she knew not of what he meant. After all, it was simply something she had been able to eat all of her current life. She knew no difference between its taste and the taste of wild game, never having consumed it. She looked up from her plate when he had abruptly changed subjects, mentioning her brother. Dining and listening carefully, as he told his story of what his people called 'Keepers' a nagging thought tugged at the back of her mind. If part of his clan revered these...'Keepers' so much, then why did she get the feeling that Sir Garrett didn't approve of magic users very much? She grew even more suspicious when Sir Garrett failed to maintain eye contact.

"Is he hiding something?"
Marianne couldn't help but wonder.

Lightly grasping her goblet of water, she took a drink from it before setting it back down. A slight metallic ringing sound as her fingertips brushed against the metal. Dabbing and wiping at her mouth with a white cloth, she set it down on the table as she folded her hands on her lap.

"Sir Garrett? Do excuse me if I come across as intrusive and prying but, if your people revere such people similar to my dear brother John. Then why is it that you seem to disapprove of magic users?" She asked, speaking softly and quietly. Though he may not have ever given solid evidence or proof of his disdain for magic, Marianne was at least perceptive enough to know that there was something in the tone of his voice, his expressions, and body language that something was...off. Sitting upright and unmoving, she locked her gaze onto his. Intensely curious as to the answer to her question.

As she awaited her answer, a maid stepped forth and leaned in to whisper something in Marianne's ear.
"Lady Marianne, it is getting late. Will you retire to your chambers shortly or will you be staying up late tonight with Sir Garrett?"
A round of giggles from the maids standing behind Marianne who could hear, confusing the Delacroix woman.
She turned her head and quietly whispered her reply back.
"We haven't yet finished our meal or conversation, but I'll consider retiring to bed soon. Thank you."
The maid bowed her head slightly in response.
"Very well, Lady Marianne."
The maid then stepped back and returned to her spot behind Marianne, eying Sir Garrett with some dark intent. Ill or good intentions, it was unclear.

Marianne turned back to Sir Garrett and remembered that there was some explanation in order.
"Ah! Of course. I had nearly forgotten."
She smiled as she clapped her hands together once.
"To clarify any confusion, in order to become an official Delacroix Knight, one must pass a years-long training regimen."
She frowned, tilting her head as she looked up at the ceiling for the right words.
"Or would crucible be more accurate? Course? Trial?"
She shook her head, dismissing the thought with a wave.
"In any case, the requirements to become a Delacroix Knights are to demonstrate your ability in a number of different parts. The first being intellect, you must pass a series of academic tests. This also doubles as your schooling and is typically done during your younger years with refresher tests here and there."
She chuckled, tapping at her head with a knuckle.
"The second major part to our training is physical ability. Broken down into smaller sections such as strength, speed, and stamina. To be quite honest with you, I didn't do very well in my own strength portion, only passing by bare minimum requirements."
Marianne blushed, admitting this fact.
"But! I passed with flying colors in my speed and stamina tests!"
She beamed, smiling brightly at this.
"The final portion is aptitude. This is broken down into many smaller parts such as hand-to-hand combat. Swordsmanship. Archery. Magic casting. Horse riding. Basic field tactics. Basic stealth and reconnaissance. Mounted combat, and so on. The list is rather exhaustive and goes on for lengths."
She laughed, shaking her head as she looked down at the table.
"My dear brother Paul couldn't pass his Magic casting portion, displaying little to no skill there. As it was a critical part of our training, he was unable to proceed."
She sighed, a slightly sad look in her eyes though she was smiling.
"He then tried to save face by arguing magic had no place on the battlefield, denouncing it entirely. Claiming his disbeliefs in magic contributed to his failure, and not his own ineptitude."
She shook her head again, slower this time.
"So, while I successfully completed my training, I became a Delacroix Knight. While my brothers became Knights of the Delacroix."
She laughed.
"I hoped I helped to clear up any confusion, instead of create more."

Growing silent, she again locked eye contact with Sir Garrett and held her gaze.
She still awaited her answer. The maids all seemed to follow suit, their eyes also trained on Sir Garrett in an innocuous manner. Yet, it still held some menacing undertone for some odd reason.

Viviane Elize Kresznik|Baths

Viviane looked at the captain before deciding to answer "my own skills lays in combat both on and off a horse and a swordplay and spearmanship." She explained she always favored a slightly wild aggressive style of fighting both with a sword and lance. "I tend to be specialized with physical confrontation without a shield relying on deflecting enemy blows." Viviane added further that was a basic summary of her skills the rest would best to actually it up close in either a display of arms or a simple spar between comrades. Which was true a spoken summary can only go so far with understanding how a person fights.

Viviane sighed once more as she leaned back in the bath letting herself relax a bit more. While part of her screamed that she shouldn't be doing this in public she couldn't help but do so now it was so relaxing and refreshing just soaking in the water. This was actually the best she felt in ages. Well a long time not since she decided to leave to show her father just how skilled she was. This meant that since she left she had little comforts which while she was ok with doesn't mean that she didn't miss them.

Sir Garrett looked up and then looked down at his plate again at the question. Without meeting the prying gaze of the maids and Marianne he set down his utensils suddenly much less interested in his food. This was a story that really wasn’t meant for the dinner table and he had the feeling that if he went down this road it would make the maids less keen to let him near Marianne. Do I really care enough? And if I do care that much. Why am I going to tell her?

“So.”

Sir Garrett paused as he let his eyes wander again not making eye contact some more before he finally focused in on Marianne figuring he at least owed her that. “Before you get to hear that story you need to hear another part of our culture. We have something similar to your practice of a Knight's trial. Only ours is the first 20 years of our lives. When we are born we are sent to live with the nomadic portion of our culture. Part of my people live in strongholds across the hills of Velt. The rest of us move about living like we did in the past. Part of it is preservation of culture and training for the young. The other part has to do with the Barrows which we use to bury our dead. They must be cared for and properly maintained. If the clan fails to take care of the resting places the dead awaken and begin to haunt the traveling groups and begin to acost those who are traveling near the Barrows. Occasionally a Barrow will go unattended for too long due to a particularly difficult winter or the loss of a particular nomadic group. We then have to go to the Barrow and subdue the undead there.”

Picking up his drink he took a long draught of the water; pretending it was something stronger. “When my younger sister was born she was born frail. Born a Keeper; however at the time we were still traveling. I was three at the time that she was born. My older brother was five. Sheliana Thorn. She was nothing but a joy for my brother and I. Regardless of her status as a Keeper she always did her best to help with chores. Time passed and we added two more younger children to the Thorn siblings. When I was twenty we were finally called to subdue a Barrow. Bare in mind that my entire life I was taught not to rely on magic. It was too easy, a cheat that we did not need to live an honorable and fulfilling life. Those who relied on magic were squandering their potential. Ana was an exemplar Keeper. Not only did she excel at her training there was talk that she would become a Shaman when she was older. Beyond the diplomacy, reading, writing, magic, she was also accomplished with the horses.” Staring into his cup he looked up again “She could hit an apple at twelve meters with a knife no problem. Well, eventually we were called to reclaim a Barrow. A feat few have ever accomplished. It was the ancestral burial ground of our family.” Trailing off Sir Garrett ran his finger around the edge of the goblet. “Well….one of them. My family is quite prominent. Suffice to say we didn’t need the Barrow but my uncle convinced that if they let Ana help we could take the Barrow by storm. Ana of course was thrilled; the rest of my siblings were happy to have our baby sister. We didn’t even think twice.”

“When we got to the Barrow we went right in not thinking twice. It was a trap. It turned out that the reason the Barrow was so problematic had to do with the fact that a Shaman had been buried there. A Shaman who had aspirations beyond the grave. Ana went in with use wielding earth magic and fire magic that would make most sorcerers quiver in their boots. It seemed as though it would be a simple cleansing with the five of my siblings cutting down anything that even moved towards our baby sister. That was when the Shaman chose that moment to possess our sister. She turned on us and slaughtered a dozen of the warriors with us. The five of us managed to subdue her.”

Sir Garrett finally snapped his gaze back up to Marianne. “We took her back to a stronghold hoping that a Shaman there could help her. The Shaman claimed he cast out the spirit. I don’t know if he just said so because he thought he had or if the spirit did something to him. In the end it doesn’t matter. My sister razed the Stronghold to the ground. Most of our nomad group survived because we were outside the Stronghold at the time. As if that were not bad enough; my sister started raising the dead to fight alongside her. Of Course my siblings and I went in after her; we found the Shaman. He claimed her had a way to force the spirit out of her, we took his word and we took the herb he gave us and coated our weapons in a paste made of it. Ana fled and we chased her. I caught up to her a several kilometers from the stronghold. The spirit had given her an unnatural vigor; we fought and I cut her. The Shaman had lied and instead of forcing the spirit out it killed the spirit outright. I don’t know what happened but just when I thought I had my sister back the night had one more surprise for me. When she opened her eyes their was no sign of the ghost light that had blazed in them. That was when she cut me open and left me to die. She claimed that the spirit had shown her what she was really meant to do and that we had been holding her back for years.”

Slowly closing his hands into fist Sir Garrett looked back down at his food. I can’t waste such fine food Picking up his fork Sir Garrett went back to slowly eating occasionally flicking his gaze to Marianne to take in her reaction to the story. “I apologize for the morbid story, but ever since them I’ve been incredibly suspicious of all magic users. It also is my explanation for my opinion of Tyeathe.” Finally he fell silent as he finished off his meal.

@harinezumikouken

"I'm strong." Christina said, her breath making tiny ripples in the water. "I have a shield, and I know some protection magic." She punctuated the end of her explanation by sinking further into the water, so only her nose and eyes stayed visible. She blew a single bubble of air from her mouth, looking for all the world like a bored child.

Marianne Delacroix

After having listened to Sir Garrett's dark story, Marianne and her maids made not a sound. Unmoving and expressions stoic as they all processed just what it was that he had told them. Marianne thought to defend herself and other magic users, but as Sir Garrett had shared such a personal and intimate story with them, she thought it to be disrespectful and rude to the memory of his sister. Thankfully, Marianne had eaten more than enough for her to be satisfied. Her appetite lost as she looked down to the table. She thought to perhaps express her sorrow and condolences to Sir Garrett, but thought that would reopen old wounds. At least, the ones she hadn't already unintentionally opened already for her comrade.

She bit her lip as she thought hard to herself, long strands of her hair falling over her shoulder to conceal part of her face as she did. She couldn't imagine the heartbreak she would experience if one of her brothers or other family members was to commit such an act. Brushing the strands out of her face and tucking them behind her ear, she looked back up to Sir Garrett. It was disorienting to see such a formidable man with all of his bulk act in such a way. The story his eyes told, his body language, and his tone of voice. It all painted the picture of a hurt man. A man betrayed by a loved ones in such a way that he condemned large general populations and cultures of people. She couldn't blame him for the way he thought and felt. Perhaps if such a thing were to ever happen to her, she may have been the same way. It made their relationship all the more awkward, though she felt oddly flattered that he was comfortable enough to share that tidbit with her and confide in her. Marianne wondered if he had ever done so for anyone else.

A maid stepped forth and gently touched at Marianne's shoulder, shaking her from her thoughts.
"Lady Marianne. You should retire to your chambers." The senior maid suggested.
Straightening in her seat, she looked at Sir Garrett and then to her maids.
She nodded her head, silently.
As Marianne stood, the senior maid pulled her chair out for her.
With a slight polite bow of her head, Marianne bade her good nights to her fellow Iron Rose Knight.
"It is getting rather late. Here is where we'll have to part ways, Sir Garrett. Thank you for joining me for dinner. We must do this again sometime in the near future." she managed to say with a smile.
Turning, Lady Marianne walked away with a certain grace. Unsure if her remaining silent was the right course of action to take. As she left the room, five of her maids followed closely behind her in a single file column. The remaining two stayed behind to clean up. One cleared Marianne's side. The other stood by Sir Garrett.
"Are you finished with your meal, Sir Garrett?"
If he answered in the affirmative, then she would clear his spot for him.
If not, she would remain behind until he did.

Once the last two maids had finished their tasks, they would leave and follow after the rest. Following Lady Marianne to her chambers, where she would then bed for the night to rest for the next day. Prepared for whatever the next day brought to her and the Iron Roses.

Sult nodded, as her deft hands made her way towards the soft skin of her captain's back. Even though her face remained mostly serious, she had always secretly wanted a little sister to do this kind of stuff. Thinking for a bit she pieced an answer together.

"I am Sult. I just do things, i guess. Well met."

It was then when out of the corners of her mind, the beast of mischief sprung forth. "If you want a backscrub too, please wait. Cutest go first."

As if on cue, Sult leaned forward towards Fanilly, starting to do something more than scrubbing. She was actually massaging Fanilly. Inching closer and closer, until the back of the first was touching so slighty the front of the second.

And then she finished scrubbing, sponge in hand.

Well, this all seemed to be going relatively smoothly, at least. The two new knights seemed to be knowledgeable and adept at what they did, though without seeing them in action there was only so much that could be said. For a meeting being held in a bath, this was going somewhat decently. The girl couldn't help but flinch a little, however, when she felt Sult's hands on her back. Recalling getting the same treatment by her maids, however, she swiftly relaxed.

"It's... it's very nice to meet you," she began, attempting to ignore the 'cutest go first' comment. It was embarrassing... and then... then the older girl was massaging her. The smallish blonde trailed off, cheeks burning hot with embarrassment, as she felt Sult massage her back, lean in rather close... and then be done with it.

"... I, er... well..."

It took several moments for Fanilly to regain her composure.

From there, the girl managed to talk a bit more, mostly introducing herself and asking a few more questions about the new knights' interest in the order. Anything to keep herself from becoming an embarrassed mess.

---

The next day, however, was quite a different one. The sun was once again sinking low, this time casting the sky in a vast array of oranges and reds, purples and yellows. Light played off the low-hanging clouds in a dazzling display of colors.

Fanilly's maids had braided her hair. Her armor and weapons had been cleaned to their most perfect condition. Now, there was only one thing that remained for her to do. She had to proceed to the party. She'd picked a fair variety of knights to accompany her, focusing on both new knights and a few veterans as well. They had been permitted to wear any formal attire they so chose, and Fanilly had decided to request that any armor must be suited to this if it is brought along.

This, she had realized, put Tyaethe in quite a predicament. But she couldn't deny she felt some desire to see what was under the 'immortal knight's' armor. It was such a mystery, after all.

Regardless of mystery knights' looks, Fanilly felt her nervousness rising. Her training as a child had not exactly left her attending a large number of parties, though she had been to a few small affairs in the past.

This was no small affair. The Royal Castle loomed ahead, a throng of guests milling both in the castle gardens and visibly within. Fanilly had been to the castle before, but... never when it was this crowded. The walls around the castle were strong and thick, but naturally the knights had been allowed through. They were both guests, and the Iron Roses themselves, after all.

The castle itself was an impressive structure. Known as the Crown of Thaln, or the Spikes of Aimlenn, it was a rectangular building, four larger towers arranged at each corner with a much larger one in the center. It was made of a dark grey stone, decorated with white. The gardens around the castle were verdant and thriving, filled with small trees, a wide array of flowers, and small ponds. Even here, however, there were clear signs of spots where soldiers would hold their ground, in case of an attack.

But at the moment, there were no such soldiers.

Fanilly led her knights through the crowd, to the castle itself. The interior hall was wide and spacious, and a herald declared each knight's status as they entered the room. Tables of food lined the walls, men, women, and children were everywhere, adorned in finery, and guards were posted evenly about the hall.

Fanilly couldn't help but feel somewhat nervous about such a large event.

But, this was it. The princess was no where to be seen, for the moment, but Fanilly was certain that would change quite soon.

"Hmph..."

Martina didn't care much for formal events, really. They were always so... So formal! What was so wrong with just meeting in a tavern and having a few pints of ale, really? Why did the nobles have to be so stuffy about everything? The only reasons she was here was because her parents insisted that she be here... That, and the captain would be here soon too. She hadn't seen her for a while, and since she was about to return to the Iron Rose Knights it would be a good idea to greet her in a non-combat orientated situation.

Still, it wasn't worth her having to dress up like a surly chrysanthemum and... And mingle with the upper-class snobs. She hated the dress, really. It was too frilly and... And pink! And so impractical too! What did the nobles have against praticality anyway? Hmph...

Her eyes almost lit up when she heard the arrival of the Iron Rose Knights being announced. Of course, her expression didn't change that much; she was a dwarf after all, or at least half-dwarf. Overreacting to things is what humans did. But still, she couldn't help but scuttle over to the assembled knights... Approach the captain from behind... And give her a good old-fashioned dwarven greeting.

"Rally-ho, captain!" her voice boomed out as she gave Fanilly a hearty slap on the backside. It was almost as though the size of her voice was trying to make up for her only being around four foot six, really. "It's good to see you again, that it is!"

Ian kept needlessly fidgeting with parts of his armor while he got ready for the ball. He'd honestly only ever been to formal gatherings twice before, both times as a bodyguard so going to one as a guest is going to be different. He was already having trouble with his wardrobe as the only thing that could even be considered formal that he owned was his armor, and he's spent half a day trying to make it as nice as it could be. It didn't help that Ian wasn't even aware of the ball till late morning, having missed the message since he slept in a tavern down the way a bit.

At least the armor did have a little fanciness to it, having a few colored trims and a design on the hood and cape. In fact the cape could put off a slightly regal appearance, something that would be easier if he wasn't the size of a child. Ian grumbled quietly, his size never really bothered him before, and even now it doesn't so much as the assumptions made from it, it is somewhat irritating to be confused with a child.

He sighed and shook his head, looking down at his left hand as he flexed it. He'd managed to see the healers before this whole thing. He no longer needed to keep his arm in the sling but it would be awhile before he could use his shields again. With all his things as together as they could be he set out, the last thing he grabbed was his axe, slipping it just above his tail under his cape.

Ian had his hood up throughout the walk to the castle and had intended to keep it regardless of how it would be viewed by the nobles, not that that mattered as he was startled by the announcement of their own arrival and his ears shot up, his hood falling back again. At that point putting it back up didn't matter. He took a few more steps inside and that's about as far as he made it. He just stopped at that point and looked around awkwardly, unsure of what to do with himself in a gathering like this.

Christina showed no discomfort as she was led through walls larger than she had ever seen before. Her eyes scanned the gathered guests as the Iron Knights passed through the crowd, watching for any threats. Just because they were in the capital didn't mean there were no threats. In fact, there might be more threats to her captain in the capital than in combat, if the rumors of discontent surrounding her were true. From the small time she had spent with the younger officer, she thought that an assassin's blade was a much more tangible threat than a soldier's. She tugged on the edge of her tunic, the most expensive clothing she owned. The black cloth was edged in cloth of silver, with subtle silver accents throughout. She didn't like leaving her shield behind, but she had her dagger strapped to her hip, and had cast a barrier charm on her tunic before they had left. The spell would be a constant drain on her energy, but compared to the rigor of combat she would be able to maintain it easily.

As her name and rank were called out by the crier, she couldn't avoid seeing more than a few sneers directed at her, though most hid them well. She refused to let it bother her. Her father had never played their court games, and neither would she. Instead, she focused her attention on Captain Fanilly, watching an small, enthusiastic woman greet her in a peculiar way. She carried herself like a warrior, so Christina decided she was unlikely to be an assassin, but she kept her quiet watch on the interaction all the same.

Gillian kept his gaze locked low to the ground as the group of knights entered the ballroom. He'd chosen to taken up the side farthest from the captain, sure that the discomfort from the other days...event had not gone disappeared fully for either of them. He couldn't fathom what had compelled the girl to bring him along, having neither the social standing nor the blood to justify his presence. Maybe it was just to get more knights in her entourage? It certainly dwarfed the majority of the guests, at least as far as Gillian could tell.

He steps forward as the herald sets to introduce him. For what little good could be said of the young man in polite society, it could not be denied that he cleaned up well. A fruit bore almost exclusively from his quick trip to his mentors villa in the morning. After having detailed his sudden summons Seigward's young wife, Lia, could not help but lend her assistance. Lia was a stunning young woman out from Velt who'd barely reached her twenties before she, to use her own words, 'nabbed' Gillian's mentor much to the dismay of her family.

And with her she brought all the fashions of her home she could carry, much to the dismay of her stubbornly plainly dressed husband. Still, it was a minor disruption to an otherwise happy union. One easily filled by victims volunteers such as Gillian, to act as outlets for Lia's more chic desires. He did not mind some parts of the dress, were he honest. The boots were plain leather, almost ridding boots. Far and away more comfortable than the horrid dress shoes of some of the nobles walked about in. Doubly so as it saved him from those ridiculous stockings. Black wool trousers also being an easy sell. Again largely for not being stockings.

The tailcoat, waistcoat, shirt and cravat (he believed that was the name of it) had endeared themselves less to him. The shirt was plain white with a high collar. The cravat, a dark length of silk, was wrapped loosely around said collar, feeling all the more like a noose with each passing second. The burgundy tailcoat was sweltering, and the black waistcoat beneath did little to help.

Still, it cut an impressive figure, and with one hand resting on the hilt of his blade (an addition he had to fight Lia to let him keep), he walks slowly in as the herald announces his presence. He re-secures the black leather gloves covering his hands (though really he only needed the one), ignoring the awkward silence or distasteful glances that his name evoked. From lack of recognition, he hoped. As he rejoins the group, he's a little surprised to see a short young woman (he assumed knight), very brazenly pat the young captain's rear. "...Perhaps we should refrain from playing grab ass while in the royal castle." He offers to Martina, though clearly welcoming her eagerness to fight the formality. "...Unless thats why the captain brought us here?" He asks, turning to the young captain. "If so, I was not informed. I am deathly ill-prepared for ass grabbing duties should that be required."

@rin @vitavitaAR

Operation Marmalade was a disaster. With the provided help of the maids and considerable diligence, the limes had been cut and juiced, then shredded and cooked. Jar after jar had been filled with the green preserve and Tyaethe had gathered them all that afternoon to take to the palace for the ball. Everything had been going swimmingly ad she was certain that she would be able to get in via the back entrance and keep a watchful eye on the captain without having to remove the armour.

Then the unthinkable had happened: someone had come out to collect the marmalade. Seeing as she was a paladin and not a deliveryman, there was nothing that Tyaethe could do except hand over the jars and return, defeated, to Candaeln and lock the door to her room. This was a pressing matter: with no time to come up with an alternative and the captain's specific request that she not come in her armour, she would have to actually go through the myriad wardrobes and drawers in search of clothing.

It was fair to say that the room had become something of a collection of old furniture over the years but the "why" wasn't terribly obvious. Even Tyaethe wasn't entirely sure.

The upshot of all this was that the undead knight had only just started preparing when the others were nearly finished and, consequently, she was going to be quite late. Now largely on her own with the remaining knights having been browbeaten into finding some lower-profile ball to attend, the paladin finished her preparations and set off for the ball. She had to get there before anyone molested the captain...