The light of the sun hurt Eli's eyes as he opened them slowly, the sound of bells ringing outside causing him to stir awake. He groaned and sat up, rubbing his eyes as a handmaid opened the window curtains. The maid, surprised by the almost upset look he gave her, bowed to him and apologized. He smiled slightly, waving his hand to dismiss her, and moved to the side of the bed. When the clacking sound of her shoes seemed to disappear, another came to his room. It was slow and almost out of rhythm. Even stranger, it sounded like three feet were moving. He realized who it was when he took a few seconds to think. His father, Erigan the IV, hobbled into the room with a crutch in hand. He smiled at the boy, making his way over to him. "Fifteen and already so experienced with magic. You've grown up so much, my boy. Did you enjoy your sleep?" He made his way over to Eli and stopped, leaning up against the cane in front of him. Eli smiled up at his dad and nodded, rubbing his eyes some. "I did, dad. I had the coolest dream. I was this really, really powerful mage and a bunch of dragons attacked the capital. I stood at your side and we both used a flurry of spells to take them down and -" His father laughed, sitting down next to the body, and ruffled his hair up.

"Yes, yes, that's very good son. You know that being a prince isn't all about fighting monsters and saving people though, yes? It's about responsibility and....oh, what am I saying? I know that no matter how many times that I say it, you'll never learn." Both son and father laughed, until they both died down and sat in silence. Eli thought for a long while and frowned, looking up at Erigan. "I don't want to go. I'll miss you." No matter how much Eli wanted to go on adventures and explore the world, he found the hardest thing to believe was that he would be without his father. Erigan pulled his son in close, wrapping his arms around the boy. "Nobody truly wants to leave their loved ones, Eli. I know I didn't, but I did it for a reason...for your mother. When you're older, you'll understand that a man has to make decisions that might not be in the interest of others...but you'll do them anyways, because you know that it's the right thing to do." Eli watched as Erigan reached into his pocket, pulling out a small necklace with a gem on it. "I wanted to give this to be given to you when you were king, but...I think now is the right time. You're becoming a man and you're about to go on your first trip across the world. This is the Estali family heirloom. It's very special. Keep it close to you and never let anyone take it. When you're out there...imagine I'm with you in the heirloom."

Eli stared at it for a long while, his eyes shining at the beautiful gem within it. He placed it around his neck and found himself smiling widely. He reached up to his dad, hugging him tightly, and didn't let go until he began to express pain. "Sorry dad...thank you for the heirloom." His father smiled and kissed the top of his head, ruffling his hair up once more, and stood up slowly with a groan, walking out with his cane. "You have at least an hour or two left before you depart. You better get dressed and do what you want around here before you leave. I have some important business to attend to, so you'll have to leave on your own with Rhea." He looked back at Eli and stared at him for a few minutes, until walking off again. Eli leaped out of his bed and rush into his closet, putting on a fine outfit with a cloak on top of it all. He took a royal brooch and pinned it, keeping the cloak together, and looked around for his satchel. He picked it up quickly and wrapped it around his shoulder, until he sped outside his door.

The young boy rushed past Rhea, tapping her shoulder as he ran past her. "Good morning, Rhea!" He called out cheerfully. When he reached the stairway, he looked about to make sure nobody was watching, and slid down the railing. Without even realizing it, he had done this past Juana and a small group of people that had gathered to assist Eli on his journey. He had no idea who they were and just thought they were there to see his father or one of his advisers. He waved to Juana as he rushed into the library and picked out two books from the shelves. "Wind Tome...check. Fire Tome...check. Looks like I've got everything. I can't wait to get this started!" He placed the two books inside of his satchel and walked back out, approaching the group that had gathered. He waved to them, still oblivious to who they were, and made his way up the steps to where he found Rhea once more. "Hey Rhea! Are you ready for this trip?" He asked with a big smile on his face. The boy looked more than excited...in fact, he looked like he was ready to burst with joy!

An unintentional, sleepy yawn escaped Fei's lips as he sat on the arm of a large sofa a little ways away from the other people in the room. He had been there for quite a while, being one of the first to arrive, as he didn't live too far away from the estate. Not to mention it was his first time too, so the bluenette was busy staring at the ornate walls and furniture in this one room alone; thankfully someone was there to guide him to the correct room, or else he would have probably gotten lost.

Fei was far too uncomfortable to sit down and relax, especially with the much bigger and tough looking people that were also with him that could have taken those seats. So, he took a spot near the corner, on the arm of one of the bigger sofas, and waited. He, along with the others, waited and waited...and waited.

Getting just a little bit tired of waiting, the blue haired boy slid off the arm and stood straight. After adjusting his dress and shirt collar, Fei got down on his knees and proceeded to slid onto the ground, now laying on his stomach. He then reached into the bag strapped onto his side and pulled out a thick, dull yellow tome and a classic ink pen. Using his elbows to keep his upper body positioned up, Fei placed the book in front of him, rubbing a small hand over the lightning symbol on the front cover. Not wanting anyone to stare, Fei quickly opened his tome and began tracing over the words that were starting to fade into the dingy paper.

Before he could even finish his first page, Fei's attention was brought over to the stairwell. Since he was on the floor, his sight was obstructed by other people, so he couldn't tell who or what landed on the ground. Not too bothered about it, the blue haired boy returned to his tome, being extra careful to steal a few glances at the other people that were presumably here to assist the prince.

@LordVoldemort @Ambra
Also 300th post. Yay!

The Estalan soldiers peered over the palisades, straining their eyes to the limit. Despite this they could not see through the damp, heavy fog that rolled down from the waves and crept across the shoreline towards the tiny fishing hamlet. Though nearly blind, they did not dare spark torch or lantern; the light would only bounce back off the chilling clouds, they exposed and the enemy just as hidden. The leading officer grimaced as he patrolled the walls. He should have been away from this backwater post, to give his reports on the pirates and their movements to King Erigan that a suppression force could be gathered and rout these devils once and for all. But late last night the watchmen had seen torches out in the bay, not quite far enough behind the forested cliffs, and too far from the shore to be anything but a ship. No merchant or Estalan vessel would have bothered hiding, thus the troops had been rallied, the watches doubled, the townspeople told to prepare for the worst. The attack hadn't come yet, but the most sharp-sighted of his watchmen swore they could see a looming shadow just offshore, and the men were jumping at every shape they saw--or thought they saw--in the salty-scented mists.

The soldiers were so intent on what was beyond their defenses that only when he stepped up onto the parapets did they recognize the masked swordsman. A commotion of gasps and hissed curses rippled out from him through the ranks, and high-strung hands reached for weapons before their leader could snap any orders. Who was this? Where had he come from? The masked one paid them no mind, and dropped over the outer edge of the wall; he disappeared into the gloom without a word.

Across the cold, soft ground and back towards the shore, a different group of men made their way in wide arcs and winding paths. They crept around trees, crouched under brush, and crawled in the grass. They had left their footprints in the sand, and their pants still dripped from the ocean, but for now they stalked invisibly towards the walls. As startled sounds drifted on the wet air, one pirate held out his hand to stop those that followed. They froze, holding their collective breath, fearing discovery...though some relished the chance for carnage, they realized the risk of an ambush gone wrong. After some moments, silence reigned over the blue morning once more. The pirates started to move again, readying blades that had been blackened by smoke and thus would not reflect any stray light...

But a blade flashed nonetheless as a shadow parted the mists. Blood steamed in the chill air, and the silence broke like fragile glass as the rearmost brigand screamed for the last few seconds of his life. They all turned then, eyes bulging as dark robes gave a wraith-like shape to the masked man. A pirate raised one of his axes as he stepped forward, but just as he started to bring down his meaty arm a long arc of steel parted forearm from elbow, and his weapon whipped off to be lost in the murk. The blade turned so fast the blood shook from it in scattered droplets, and the next stroke opened the foe's throat to the cold. That one went down choking and frothing, and the masked man stepped forward to adjust his stance. The mist curled around his sword's trail, and the corsairs were close enough now to see their opponent. They circled him, even as they heard the long note of a horn--for the guards knew where they were, thanks to the sound of battle and the cries of death--and while most held a pair of axes or wicked looking knives, their leader hefted a claymore over his shoulder and eyed the masked man with an intelligence in stark contrast to the rest of his crew. The swordsman seemed to take note of him in return, though it was hard to tell behind that mask...

"Wait there. You and I shall duel." spoke the stranger, and the captain blinked. In that same instant his crew mates attacked. One lunged, his knife seeking soft belly. The swordsman stepped to one side, turning and bringing that long blade down. The pirate's body dropped like a rag doll, and his head rolled down towards the shore. An axe missed by a hair, its force pulling at those dark robes, and the masked man's blade entered somewhere under the sternum and came out between the shoulder blades. With a grunt the tall, red-headed man hefted that body into the way of his next opponent's attack.

The captain gripped his claymore and prepared to charge, but a shout behind him gave only a moment's warning to deflect a soldier's spear. Then the defenders were on them, and in a chaotic but short lived scramble the pirates found themselves outnumbered and outmatched. Their stealth and surprise had been taken from them, along with their lives. Still the captain fought on, beheading an overeager militiaman and fending off three other attackers even as he was being pushed back down towards the sea...

"Stop! He's mine!"

Even if they hadn't parted out of some kind of instinct, the masked man would no doubt have barreled right through them. The captain took stock of that cursed sword--its length was also its weakness, combined with its width and thickness. He aimed for a clash, to use his heavier blade to break the other at its tip...

But unlike the typical style of Estala, the masked man did not meet blade with blade. Instead, with footwork that seemed a dance, he slipped away from the two handed stroke. Both fighters passed each other, then whirled to face the other, each with both hands gripping their weapon. Whoever struck first here might end it all. The pirate's blade was heavier, his body more packed with muscle...but that also gave his sword momentum, and his edge lashed out first while the masked man's sword was still at its master's side, a drawing position rather than striking.

Despite being second, the masked man's reaction somehow outpaced the claymore--No, the captain realized as the short red hair dipped just enough under that blackened edge, He predicted my move ahead of time!--and time seemed to freeze as a single breath turned into steam. As if drawing from the sheath, the masked man torqued his hips as his feet dug into the damp sand and he unleashed his final strike.

A straight line flashed across the captain's waist. A heartbeat passed. Then he died, and his body fell in two halves.

Later on, as the soldiers mopped up the leftovers and the morning sun began to burn away the fog, the officer approached the masked man. Others stopped to watch, their weapons still held tight.

"Who are you?" asked the officer.

"Gorou." came the answer. The soldiers muttered; Gorou, where had they heard that name before? It couldn't possibly be...but those were only rumors, right? Surely those stories weren't true...and why would he be out here?

"Gorou," continued the officer. "Please, come speak with me while the men celebrate. I have a proposition for you..."

---

---

Gorou leaned against the stair rail, the inner wall directly at his back, a window to one side, and the rest of the room and part of the hallway within his view. Anyone who knew anything about covering one's blind spots would be able to tell that the swordsman had a nearly perfect position--if he needed to get away he would go out the window, if he needed to fight the wall kept his back safe, and if anyone else entered the room he would be able to see them clearly. He sat with his arms crossed, casually observing the others, but to them his gaze would be concealed by the mask.

A woman in armor, clearly some sort of knight...there was a barely noticeable scent of some kind of animal around her, but it didn't seem equine. Perhaps a Wyvern rider? A man with a distinctive scar, also wearing armor, and he did have a horse's scent so he was most certainly a knight. As was the large fellow with the axe, the only one besides Gorou who wasn't showing his face at the moment. Another man with a short beard also had a knightly aura about him, but the differences in his equipment seemed to mark him as an experienced mercenary rather than a proper vassal. A second woman also had horse-smell on her, but she was dressed in foreign clothes, perhaps even more out of place than Gorou's own. An uneasy looking woman in a hood, a fellow who looked more like a performer than a warrior, and then the four young ones: a girl whose kimono and blade reminded Gorou of his own family's traditions, another girl who carried a staff and had a small bird perched on her hat, a child that Gorou thought was male but was clearly wearing a dress, and then the one for whose sake Gorou had come, the Crown Prince of Estala himself.

This was...an unorthodox escort, to say the very least.

When the Prince suddenly slid down the railway, Gorou moved immediately, placing one hand on his sword--not to draw it, but to adjust it so that the boy wouldn't run into the long scabbard as he sailed on by. As Prince Eli bounded off the rail and spoke to the lady knight, Gorou returned to his previous position and crossed his arms without a word. Another cursory look around the room, however, made him notice that the girl in the kimono was giving the older woman--Rhea, the Prince had called her--a rather unfavorable glare. He looked back towards the Prince, who seemed completely oblivious, and at the rest of the group, who all seemed to still be in that awkward ice-breaking phase. Not that he could really talk, considering his own lack of social tendencies...but, well, perhaps if someone made the first move...

He unfolded his arms and stepped away from the railing.

@Mistiel"Excuse me, Miss. I am called Gorou." he began. He bowed his head slightly in greeting, though the fact that he was taller than her made it less noticeable. "I notice that you wear the kimono; if I may ask, do you come from one of the ancient clans, like myself?"

A maiden, a bard, a knight, a swordsman, a mage, a prince...

It all sounded like it was the beginning of a terrible joke. She had been there by the stairwell for a while, watching as people slowly gathered to depart on their journey. Her eyes carefully studied each and every one of the faces that showed themselves, finding herself more and more confused by the second. It was as if the king truly wanted something to happen to his son on this journey when he suggested that men and women volunteer themselves. It was also surprising to see how many showed up; perhaps they expected a prize when they returned Eli safe and sound from his journey. Maybe they wanted coin, or a title? She wouldn't be shocked if they came with hungry intentions, asking for money or a nice, cozy place on Estalian soil. Humans behaved that way-- it was in their nature.

At least, that was what Rhea thought as her eyes rested on the masked swordsman. Already, apprehension was beginning to prickle through her. How could Eli-- or the king --trust all of these strange faces? She didn't know what it was, but her feet were beginning to itch and the hairs at the back of her neck prickled slightly. Maybe it was just because she woke up too early? When dawn came, she made sure to clean under Icarus' scales properly enough before they would set out. A dirty wyvern was no laughing matter, for when such a beast was uncomfortable, it was difficult to control. Not to mention, her wyvern was a special case. He always wanted to be fresh and primed for travel, as if he was proud of his appearance. White wyverns were certainly rare around this parts, as most of them hailed from Cesada, her home. Sighing at the thought of her past, she leaned heavily against the railing and once again shot a cautious glance at the myrmidon with the flowing robes.

Soon enough, the crown prince joined their numbers. Of course, the first thing Eli did was run up to her and ask her a question. At this, Rhea forced herself to relax. If she appeared too tense around him, he might pick up on something and not trust his guards. Her crimson eyes looked down at him as she pursed her lips. "I'm as ready as ever. Icarus is dying to fly," the royal guard muttered, her eyes resting on him for an extra moment before gazing around at their party. Slowly, more and more people were arriving, and she wondered how many people were joining them. She furrowed her brow, glancing over at Jauna. She knew her; she was a delicate flower, but she was sure that her skill at swordplay would be an asset. But the look in the girl's eye made Rhea's nerves rattle up even more. Her gaze hardening, she set her hands on her hips and stood firmly. Apparently, she wasn't the only one who wasn't happen about their situation.

"A man who covers his face is not one to be trusted," she murmured down to Eli, lifting a hand and pressing it down upon the top of his head. Rhea's gaze had settled on the myrmidon again, her eyes narrowing slightly. Yet, her voice was quiet enough; hopefully, no one else would be able to hear. "Only cutthroats and thieves do not want their identity to be known. You should be careful around that one."

It had been a week since Zachary had fled the household. He had not wanted to run away initially. After all, he was but a mere boy only armed with a lute and a now empty food satchel. However, Papá had intended on destroying grandfather’s instrument before Zacahry's very eyes. Zachary could not stand idly by and watch his heritage be smashed in front of him. Striking Papá was both the bravest and most stupid decision Zachary had ever made, and to make matters worse he had run out the door with what he could grab with no plan in mind.

It had been a few days since he had crossed the channel between Ibion and Estala. The foreigners welcomed him with a language had had never heard before, causing him to feel uneasy the further north he traveled into these unknown lands. It wasn’t until now that he had reached his limits. Zachary knew he could not go on like this for much longer. When this thought crossed his mind the winds gusted and blew his hat off his head until it landed in front of an open doorway. Rushing forward and quickly grabbing his beloved hat, Zachary stood back up and saw the doorway had a sign next to it. The words were unfamiliar but the image showed that of a bed and warm food. It looked the same as the image used for inns in Ibion so Zachary walked right inside.

However, this inn wasn’t as uplifting as the ones his grandfather once took him to. The people in here were all either silent or mumbling to each other. There were no loud people having a fun time with their ale, there was no occasional roar of laughter from the bar, and every person had a somber expression. Walking towards the bar with his lute and satchel feeling heavier every step, he kept hearing one sound among all the others the Estalians spoke: war. Zachary knew not what this word was, yet the atmosphere clued him in that it meant nothing good.

Approaching the counter, Zachary reached into his pockets to find he had no coin left. Frantically searching his satchel to find nothing as well, sadness filled his heart as he would go without food for a second day. The barmaid gave the young boy a strange look at first but paid no mind as he went to take a seat at the edge of the entertainment platform. Zachary sighed to himself, taking off his hat and laying it on the ground next to his feet. The top of the hat sunk slightly under its own weight as the bottom remained open to the air. His lute rested on his lap as Zachary leaned forward in defeat. Before giving up, the words of his grandfather rung through his head, “If you ever feel down child, play a tune. It is good for the mind and the heart. Trust me, you will feel better in no time.”

Zachary’s heart pulled slightly at the memory of his lost grandfather. Sitting up straight, Zachary tuned his lute. The slight twangs from his adjustments caught the ears of nearby patrons. Once his adjustments were done he let his fingers loose into song. The notes flew naturally off of the lute’s strings and filled the air of the inn. Soon all eyes were on Zachary. The patrons could not believe that such a young looking boy was playing this music. Zachary was too focused on playing his music to notice their expressions, and he kept letting his hands fly freely across the lute. The song was one of hope and inspiration. The song opened with a somber tune which quickly shifted into a faster paced sequence that raised the spirits. The chorus was when the inn patrons began to whisper among themselves about this display of skill. The minutes went by and Zachary slowly stopped the song to its end. As he did, the patrons burst into applause which snapped him out of his focused state. Men and women alike were cheering for the boy’s performance, tossing a few spare coin into the hat he laid down by chance. A great big smile broke across Zachary’s face. It was not due to his payment but to the smiles and joy he had just brought to this small inn. In a matter of minutes Zachary alone had cheered up these people. The event had set a flame in his heart.

---

From then on, the boy traveled northward reinvigorated with a new purpose: to bring that same joy he brought to that inn everywhere he went. Hopefully one day he would play for his grandfather once again. Days soon turned into weeks, weeks into months, and months into years. Zachary was now seventeen years old and quite familiar with the language of Estala. Word of a young bard traveling north soon spread throughout the land, earning Zachary his own reputation. This reputation is what led him towards responding to the king’s call for prince escorts. Although he might not be a fighter, keeping spirits high was just as important as a cleric’s duty for healing. This reputation would be his foothold for joining this party.

Zachary stood in an archway, leaning against the wall spacing that separated the lounge area and the grand stairwell. He observed the people present for the prince’s escort that were in the vicinity. A foreign maiden, an armored knight, a young mage, and a swordsman as well. He looked at them with a smile as he tuned his lute in silence. The adjustments took him just enough time to get a good look at the people present. They all looked like people from various different backgrounds. Zachary was sure there would be conflicts among everyone, but he was sure they could all pull through and do their best for the prince.

Speaking of which, as Zachary was finishing his final tuning adjustments the prince slid down the stairway railing. ”Bravo, joven amigo,” the bard spoke under his breath. He watched as the prince go by when he noticed the blue haired mage alone in the lounging area to his left. He decided it best to greet and be friendly towards the boy, as a start at least.

@Tenma Tendo "¡Hola, my young friend!” the bard spoke in an Ibion accent to the prone boy. The bard let his lute go slack on its strap as he took a few steps forward. ”What might that tome be, friend? I am… what is the word…” The raggedy bard paused and scratched his chin for a moment. The sweet smell of straw lingered from him as he stood there struggling to formulate the word. His eyes brightened not a moment later. ”Curious! I am curious about your magic prowess, friend.” He had a big grin on his face as he stood nearby in the room.

Tweet.

No answer.

Tweet tweet.

To an onlooker, Arin was frozen in time; her face expressing a flat and emotionless stare towards the staircase. In reality, silence had overtaken the priestess, who felt intimated by the numerous giants that inhabited the room. Arin was raised not to judge another based on their appearance, yet always the looming shadow of a tall man or woman seemed to frighten her young heart. Arin was by no means tall nor large in comparison to the three behemoths, as if she was a tiny ant standing beside the mighty grasshopper or dragonfly. The size difference was startling to the young priestess, reminding Arin of ancient and old fairy tales consisting of terrifying beasts preying on small children. The masked and helmeted duo only cemented Arin further in her boots, their negligence to unmask in public nearly convincing the priestess' that they were, indeed, horrifying creatures from ancient folklore.

A yawn and then a subsequent strum was heard, freeing Arin from her dreamy daze. The priestess was unsure who were exactly the culprits, but the noise had allowed her a chance to breathe. It had reminded Arin that there were others with her—others not so terrifyingly tall as the three men that stood nearby—and that Choco, her companion, was attempting to capture the priestess' attention. Arin had arrived to the castle grounds early in the morning to await Prince Eli, but she soon lost track of time once the tall men had arrived. The priestess must have been standing with a blank stare on her face for quite some time, and her companion was attempting to bring Arin back to reality. Thankful that Choco was looking out for her, Arin dug into the large satchel hanging from her shoulder, and pulled forth a a small piece of bread for the bird to chomp its beak down on.

The bird echoed a happy tweet within the castle halls as it was fed when the prince, as innocent and playful as the rumors were, slid down the railing to the party that formed. Eli was nearly oblivious to the the group, the prince speeding past them on multiple occasions and only stopping his hasty pace to wave at them. The youthfulness that the prince was displaying coerced a smile out of Arin, who took off her hat to gaze at the bird she had called a companion. "The Prince is... ah, quite charming. Wouldn't you agree, Choco?" Arin spoke softly to her companion, who replied with an energetic tweet of his own. She had always admired the prince, not for his looks like most courtly ladies, but for the soul and emotion that was rumored to exist within him. It was hardly something to be considered romantic, rather an appreciation, a feeling that adventure was to be had with Prince Eli.

However, little did Arin know that the adventure might end to be more than she could chew—an adventure that would see her either to the end of her days or one for the history books.

---

@Zeroth

Jauna was taken aback by the man's sudden interest. "Good morning sir!" Jauna replied automatically, lifting her chin a bit and not curtsying to a man she didn't know the credentials of as the court etiquette for a noble lady dictated. "Ki-kee-keemono? Oh that's what this is called! You can call me Jauna. I've been basically raised here in the castle. I apologize, but I am afraid I don't know as much as I would like to about your clans' histories or anything specific about this kee-mono. Perhaps you can tell me more of your land on the journey?" She deigned to flash him a small smile and then, after a moment's hesitation, the smallest of curtsies to match his smallest of bows. Oh what the hell, she thought glumly. I'm sixteen and if Eli is too stubborn to acknowledge our age, then maybe it's time to make him a little bit jealous. As she had been saying this, she offered the stranger her hand, palm down and inward; careful to keep her gaze empty of any telling emotions. It was difficult, attempting to adhere to the court protocol that had been instilled into her here by the ladies-in-waiting who taught such things.

She had to admit, it was nice being noticed by someone for a change even if it was by, for all intents and purposes, a foreigner. It was embarrassing to not know hardly anything of the Hoshido and other cultures other than in passing, but that's what she got for romping around the castle with Eli rather than attend history lessons.

Siran Vahramyan Arshakuni

Siran was idling by a wall, waiting like anyone else gathered here. All the words that had been heaped upon her in the build up to this point were still ringing in her ears; phrases such as "This is our chance to repay the country that took us in!", "It's your sacred duty to represent us in this important endeavor", and "We must prove that our clan still has great strength". Siran knew what it all really meant; "We might be rewarded if we make ourselves useful!, "We could go ourselves, but we'd rather risk your neck while we reap the rewards", and "We need to make ourselves feel better because we're still butthurt from the events of nine years past". Siran didn't care for any of it. She had experience the hardships felt all those years ago as much as anyone else, but she knew that the Bagratuni clan was on the other side of a border from them all now, and nothing short of an invasion of Ibion would mean anyone would ever get their revenge. Siran wanted nothing more than to move on and forget all the suffering, but the Arshakuni wanted to wallow in their past regrets forever. Fortunately, their reasons for volunteering her for this escort mission did not matter. Siran now had the opportunity to do something that would take her far away from the constant bemoaning of the past and get some real life experience. Maybe it would be an uneventful trip, but at least it would take her someplace else.

Siran lazily watched the small drama playing out before her eyes. It was clear there was some tension between the arriving prince's female friends. Siran really hoped it wouldn't come to a head during their trip; the only thing worse than listening to the clan elders bitch about their ancient rivalry was listening to a love-struck girl harp on about her romantic rivals. It would be worse with a royal as the center of it all, as even though her status meant little outside the clan, Siran still had those among the clan that battled for her favors. The only way she had kept from being forced to marry so far was by distracting her suitors with their own rivalries, so that they could never find the opportunity to petition her father for her hand. All the better that she was going away on this journey, since that meant thoughts of marriage would have to wait until after she returned. Of course, that made it all the more bothersome to see a grander version of her domestic life play out between a pack of strangers. Heaven help her if anyone ever thought she wanted to woo the prince herself, as she wanted no part of such a thing, though she was sure her father was praying with all his might that such a union would actually occur.

Choosing to take her mind off the worst case scenarios, Siran was content to wait patiently until their expedition set out in earnest. Only then would she finally be getting what she wanted.

The young lady greeted him cheerily, but seemed somewhat flustered. She apologetically admitted that she hadn't even known the garment's name, but seemed interested in learning more. Her smile and curtsy were controlled and deliberate...and after a moment she offered him her hand. Beneath the mask Gorou's eyes darted to one side. He could already feel the slight tension in the air, as Lady Rhea narrowed her eyes at him. There was no killing intent there, but Gorou could understand her suspicion. And given the way this Jauna lass had been looking at the Prince...

@Mistiel"I am sorry, Miss Jauna." he said quietly. He bowed deeper, actually bending at the waist somewhat, but he made a point of not taking or kissing the offered hand. "I am not of noble birth, and would not wish the gesture to besmirch your reputation." It might be considered rude to refuse, especially when the offer came from grace rather than being required by a formal event, but the dishonor would fall solely to him--rather than "how scandalous, for her to offer him her hand!" it was instead "how dare a commoner refuse the courtesy offered to him!"--and Gorou had no problem with that. At the same time, it would hopefully keep him out of whatever was brewing between these two ladies of the court and their Prince.

As he stood straight once more--though now he wondered if he had been too forward from the start, and should have stayed silent--he continued from earlier.

"As to the kimono, it is of no concern. You wear it well, and I'm sure the fashions of the court are hard enough to keep up with without the burden of history." He gestured to his own robes. "Not many outside the old clans still wear these garments, or use swords like mine. I was merely curious."

His gaze fell upon her sword; its dimensions were usable, but not custom fit to Jauna's own hands. A noble lady carrying a blade was a thing of itself, but why one that seemed secondhand? Had she simply bought it from a merchant, rather than directly from the smith? Despite feeling that he might be overstepping himself, forcing conversation like this when he would rather sit and observe, he asked another question.

"Again, if I may ask, Miss Jauna," he began, "your sword is of excellent craftsmanship. Whence did you come upon it?"

The boy let his eyes wander as he traced over the chicken scratch that was his father's handwriting. It had become such second nature to him that he didn't even have to look at the tome unless he had to turn a page. His attention was mostly focused on the people that were talking, those being the girl with the kimono and way to defining features, and the man who covered his face with a mask. It was an interesting duo to see talking to each other, but Fei's attention span didn't last long enough for him to understand what they were talking about.

Instead, Fei's attention moved to one of the other girls, one who he assumed was like him and hadn't said a word since arriving. Her face had been completely still in what seemed like shock for most of their time here, but now she looked a lot better as she was feeding her pet bird. Fei couldn't lie, the girl with the bird seemed rather nice, and also someone that wouldn't talk his ears off. She was closer to his height than anyone else. Her bird was also rather cute, and he could only hope that he had the courage to go up to her and say something. And with that, the blue haired boy was already thinking of ways to break the ice with the quiet girl, ultimately deciding that giving her one of his homemade candies would be nice enough. Right? Well, if he was going to give her something, he might as well give to everyone...but where would he be abl--

The boy was cut off from his train of thought by a voice that was apparently directed to him; I mean, who else could it be, he was the only one away from the stairwell. Fei turned his head only to see the owner of said voice approach him excitedly. He recognized the other as one of the prince's escorts, but it was clear that he wasn't a fighter nor a mage. The older boy dressed in simple clothing and had a strange, bent up instrument on him. He had to be a bard at this point if he was escorting the prince, right?

Fei seized his tracing and pulled himself up to sit on his knees, before continuing to stare listlessly at the bard, waiting for him to get all of his words out. After using up a good portion of his patience, Fei nodded slowly to his request and opened his mouth to speak.
"H-Hello, Mister. Th-This is a Thunder Tome. It's a-actually my father's..." The blue haired boy trailed off as he closed the tome and stood up, now clutching the book to his chest. Deciding not to go further into it, Fei held the tome out in front of him and towards the bard. "...You can see it if you want. But I wanna see that." He mumbled, his eyes now focused on the lute hanging of of the bard's side. The boy to only hope that he wasn't being too pushy...

Greymont Castle

Gaivred stood in the chamber, feet spread for balance and comfort, with gloved hands clasped in front of himself. A fairly relaxed pose but he was fully capable of lunging into a fight at a moments notice. Assuming one even broke out in the castle walls, which he really doubted it would. Even with all the odd people gathering to escort one young prince. His brown eyes watched the movements the others did from the corner he situated himself in. The youth laying on their stomach to seemingly write in a book. The dirty looks a young woman gave to what appeared to be an older and knightly woman. Where a swordsman had situated himself and remained as still as he was. A bard tuning his lute, strangely in silence. What looked to be a priestess frozen with a little bird chirping on her head that was soon fed by her. Oddball... He thought, everyone had their pets. The last person he observed was the darker skinned girl who was watching the rest.

A motley crew for an escort. Were his thoughts as the prince came sliding down the handrail. Reaching up he pulled his helm from his head out of respect for the youths station. A brief shake and his hair settled back to his head while he tucked the helm against his hip, the other hand hooking a thumb into his belt. The young mans presence seemed to kick everything up, getting the bard to talk with the young one writing in the book. The swordsman talking with the young woman giving the knightly one dirty looks. His lips twitched a bit when she tried to pronounce what her clothing was. It was a bit cute.

The prince darted off after greeting the knightly woman, Rhea was her name apparently. The princeling was full of energy this morning it seemed. On his return he gave the group a wave, which got another quirk of Gaivred's lips. It felt like the boy didn't know what the group was gathered for, instead focusing on Rhea. A roll of his shoulders made the white furred mantle flick further up into a more comfortable position and got his armor to click quietly. He was unsure whether introductions would be made by a single person or if they were supposed to introduce themselves. For now he would wait and continue to watch the group.

@Ambra - Eli listened to the Rhea's words carefully, looking back down at the man that she had described. He wasn't all that bad, the young Prince thought. He had seen plenty of masked men come into the halls hoping to speak with the King or some kind of adviser, usually about some religious or cult-like endeavors. In all honesty, not much seemed to frighten the boy, aside from the usual "I'm going to kill you" or getting a blade drawn on you ordeal. What really scared Eli were such beasts like Icarus, which had caused him to shudder visibly when she spoke of her wyvern. The Prince always had some kind of irrational fear when it came to wyverns and the sea. In fact, there had been several incidents where Eli got so sick when they had departed, that the ship had to be turned around almost immediately. They weren't even out of view of the coast when this happened! Granted it did take place a few years ago, so his father was confident that he'd be perfectly fine this time.

@Aquanthe@Tenma Tendo@Tala Avana@Zeroth@Kazemitsu@Lord Orgasmo@Redneckatron - Eli looked backed up at Rhea and smiled warmly. "Don't worry about him Rhea; I'm sure he's a nice gentleman. I'll go ahead and greet them!" He gave her a hug before turning around and walking down the staircase towards the large group. The steps that Eli had taken down the staircase were quick and excited, almost like a child rushing the staircase for a celebration. When he stood in front of the guests, he addressed them with a bright smile and a very small tint of red on his cheeks. "Good morning everyone! As a few of you already know, I'm Prince Eli. I look forward to the journey and hope I can learn much from you all." It was clear that this boy had no experience with the outside world. Yet something about his posture and how clearly he spoke showed something quite different from what their first impressions of the Prince revealed to them. In a way, it was as if there was a hidden strength to him that he had yet to express.

@Mistiel - Eli looked over at Jauna, a girl he was quite familiar with. Much to his annoyance, she was one of a few girls that he just so happened to be choosing from for marriage. These girls were all around the castle, trying to look refined and tasteful, but none of it really mattered to Eli. Even Jauna, who sparked slight interest in Eli due to her unladylike behavior, was denied! Still, many of them stayed in the castle with hopes of having his hand in marriage. Eli was frustrated with how often so many people wanted to marry him. Even worse was when it was used as a political tool, which was quite often. He despised it, as did his father. As Eli watched Jauna and the man talk, he raised a brow in confusion. She's interested in him? Thank goodness...that's one person with a crush on me off my back. Eli gave her a courteous bow and gave her a warm smile, just as he always did. In fact, he didn't seem to be showing any signs of jealousy whatsoever. Looked like her plan didn't work out too well on him...or at all.

With introductions mostly out of the way, Eli began to walk across the room towards a large set of doors, his smile as cheery looking as ever. Turning around, he beckoned the group to follow him. "This way everyone. We'll have some breakfast first before we set out. I want to make sure we're all feeling good before we head out." He pushed the doors with a quiet grunt, swinging them open, and revealed a large banquet hall with a single, long table. The room was extravagant and decorated with all manners of painting, chandeliers, and stunning masonry that seemed to make everything stand out even more. The table was fitted with a white tablecloth and filled with empty plates, bowls, silverware, and candles. The large windows leading in to the room had been open, letting in the sunlight and sounds of birds from the garden freely. Eli had only taken a few steps in when a few men that had been dressed quite nicely pull out all of the chairs, waiting for everyone to take their seat. Eli dropped down on his seat, the man behind it pushing it forward to the table, and watched the others. "Since we're all going to be with each other for a long time, I want to take this opportunity for us to get to know each other better. If anyone has any questions about me, please feel free to ask."

Zachary kept smiling, but it would be a short period of time before he spoke again. In that time he was having some internal conflicts. On one hand, he legitimately thought the child he was approaching as actually a girl. The long hair, the dress, it all told Zachary that the child was feminine. Turns out based on how the blue haired child spoke that the kid was, in fact, a boy. Even though he outwardly kept a smiling appearance Zachary was terribly confused. Well, I have only been in this country for a few years now, the bard thought to himself. I cannot be so judgmental of these people’s customs. I will let this be a lesson to myself.

@Tenma Tendo On the other hand, the boy wanted to hold his precious lute in exchange for Zachary finally getting to look at a magical tome firsthand. It was a precious heirloom he never let anyone else touch… but the temptation of that magical tome ate at his will. Zachary opened his mouth to answer but the prince’s sudden announcement caught him off guard. He turned see the prince running down the rest of the stairs and shout an introduction. When the prince took some time to look over at the maiden, Zachary looked back at the boy with yet another smile. ”Lo siento mi joven amigo-” the bard quickly began to speak before correcting himself. “I am sorry my young friend, but our exchange must wait for a better time. It seems our prince Eli has something we must hear. My name is Zachary Nyrid if you wish to speak to me again!”

With that, the bard played a quick yet happy tune on his lute before spinning on his heels to face the prince. The prince desired for his escorts to have a feast with him in the dining hall. Such an honor was something saved for diplomats and other royals! Zachary could not contain his excitement and cheered when the prince finished his invitation to get to know him and the others over a meal. Zachary trembled with excitement briefly before breaking into a skip towards the open banquet doors. “¡Bravo mis amigos!” the bard shouted in jubilee whilst skipping towards the banquet hall. “We shall feast like royalty in the presence of our dear prince! Come, let us feast and rejoice for the start of our adventure!”

The bard began playing a simple yet recreational tune as he skipped into the room. He stopped skipping and spinning when he approached a seat close to the prince where a servant man was standing. Zachary, seeing another servant push Eli’s seat once he sat, knew this man would wait to push him in. ”Un momento, por favor-” the bard spoke before correcting himself yet again, “A moment, if you would please. Allow me to play my tune whilst the others join us! Tend to the others, I will be the last to seat.” The music rolled from Zachary’s fingers as he repeated the melody over and over whilst he watched and waited for the others to join the table. A song such as this would hopefully lessen any tensions and allow everyone to lighten up for conversation. A feast such as this was one to be excited about, not suspicious and nervous!

As the music echoed off the walls and went outside the front doors, not a few minutes passed until a red-headed bird fluttered inside and landed atop the end of Zachary’s lute. The bard spoke in his native Ibion tongue, “Hola, mi amigo pájaro. ¿Está usted aquí para saludar al príncipe, o se enteró que había comida?” It tweeted in response and raised its wings in a dance. The bird hopped and turned with open wings as Zachary played his tune. The bird seemed to be here for his song, not the prince nor food. Chuckling, the bard continued playing whilst waiting for all the others to join him and the prince.

@Zeroth @LordVoldemort

Jauna liked how Gorou played that, but had had no fear of her reputation being besmirched. To her burgeoning social eye, he seemed reasonably well-groomed and polite for someone of seemingly common roots. She'd offered him her hand more as a peace treaty to bridge the gap of her ignorance of his particular sect. The castle's etiquette teachers ought to have been proud of her; though no doubt if any had witnessed it, there would have been something she hadn't done exactly to standard. He seemed to expect more haughty behavior from her, so she merely replied, "Well then, I'm sure there will be more time to speak at length" in a decidedly prim tone.

Still, despite the quasi-flirtatious conversation, Jauna found herself sidling closer to the prince. What did the wyvern rider have to say that was intriguing him so deeply? Thankfully, one glance in her direction was - she was exceedingly pleased to note - all it took to get him back on track. Unfortunately that glance's smile was infuriatingly purely platonic.

His invitation for everyone to follow him for breakfast was unprecedentedly casual and Jauna approved. Although she was used to formal invitations days, weeks and months in advance from everything, she liked Eli's spontaneity and hoped he never lost it as she veritably bounced on his heels. She tried very hard not to jog or skip, but it wasn't entirely possible since her shoes were flats for once and she ended up following him at a half-trot that would likely give her etiquette teachers coronaries if they ever found out.

Before Jauna could answer his question about her sword, the Prince announced that the group would be breaking their fast with him before they set out. The bard became jubilant at this, announcing something Gorou didn't understand in one of the Ibion dialects, and played an uplifting tune on his lute. He was certainly skilled at his craft, even attracting a red songbird from the windowsill. Gorou idly wondered if the other bird in attendance, the one with the timid girl in white, would share in the music.

Jauna let their conversation end there, though with a polite reassurance to continue later on. Along with the others, Gorou moved into the banquet hall and sat at the behest of one of the many butlers and maids. For now the plates were empty, but no doubt the servants would bring whatever had been prepared posthaste. Gorou gulped softly; as a wanderer and only occasional mercenary, it was rare that he ever had more than enough for a simple meal at a tavern or a few loaves from the markets. A warrior needed food as badly as he needed weapons and armor, and who knew when an opportunity to eat royal fare might come again?

The Prince, of course, sat at the head of the table. Rhea took the seat at his right, and the bard stood to provide the music. The others would likely seat wherever they pleased, though Gorou himself had once again chosen a place near a window and with the widest view of the room. Their royal employer encouraged them to speak freely, get to know each other, and ask any questions they had about the mission. Rhea was the first to do so, formally introducing herself...and, ever so subtly, encouraging the present company to keep their focus on the journey that lay ahead. Gorou appreciated that the Prince's personal adviser behaved fittingly, as the lad himself seemed to have a woefully lacking sense of his surroundings--or, perhaps not entirely. Now that Gorou thought about it, there had already been a few actions and words by the Prince designed to diffuse the oppressive air...but maybe he was overthinking it.

@LordVoldemort@Ambra"Your Majesty. Dame Rhea." Gorou stood, again inclining his head. "I am Gorou, merely a wanderer. Some time ago I was traveling the coast and became involved in a few skirmishes with pirates. Captain Aiden of the village of Jonsferry, recruited me--the report I brought from him was submitted yesterday."

Hopefully, either Eli or Rhea had read this report already. Gorou hadn't, merely carrying the sealed letter to its place of delivery on his way to the capital, but within the report Captain Aiden had made specific note of the swordsman's skill in dispatching the raiding party at Jonsferry. Perhaps more importantly, it also contained recorded routes and activities of pirates in the area--where they had been seen coming and going, what locations they had attacked and how each militia had fared against them, and little inklings of information gained from prisoners.

"I was told," Gorou continued, "that I would serve as a field guide and, once we have encountered pirates, to offer any advice possible--as well as fighting, obviously. I do so gladly, but I must ask: Will we be marching directly to the northern islands, or campaigning along the coastlines?"

To go directly north would be to engage the pirate fleets on their home turf--to strike the seat of their power and cut off the serpent's head. However, ships did not sail on empty holds. The pirates had enough manpower and ships to raid all along the continental coasts, but traveling so far even by the fastest vessels meant weeks, sometimes months, at sea. They had to have many hideaways and hidden coves along their routes, so that they could resupply with fresh food, water, and other necessities. Any shanty-towns in the vicinity would provide a place for desperate men or fugitive criminals to be recruited, and for different crews to meet up and swap information.

Even if they went north to destroy whatever powerful groups or individuals had brought most of the other pirate gangs under their thumb, if the vermin had a nest to return to elsewhere the problem could start all over. Or worse, the pirate fleets would become even more spread out without a central command, and thus the conflict would shift from "war" to a chaotic search for pockets of "insurgency" that could be anywhere at any time with little predictability.

Depending on who gave the answer to Gorou's question, and what the answer was, he would be able to take a better stock of this unusual group in which he found himself.

So, these were the people he'd be protecting. A boy who had sway in the forces of nature themselves, and... some lady who had a stick up her ass. Great. He knew that she had to be, given the boy's personality, but nevertheless, he really wasn't into her demeanor. The boy seemed to be... energetic, to say the very least. They could probably get along well. Gods forbid a duo of stuck-up royals.

Any questions eh? Other than, when are we going?, he really didn't have much to say. He didn't exactly think now was a good time to ask the more mundane questions. He looked around from his corner. Well, this certainly seemed like a good party to be in. Good defense and offense, and even a healer. There was a metallic scrape from his armor as he lifted himself off the corner of the room and began walking towards the group.

"So, any more preparations? Or are we good to go? Starting to get a little restless." he spoke to the two royals. With any luck, they'd be heading out soon. All this waiting around was starting to bore him. Unless they were going to randomly start sharing stories, he'd like to see what was in store for his little adventure.

Despite his bony arms that lacked little muscle and fat, Fei managed to hold the large tome straight and directly perpendicular to his body. He was ready and prepared to receive any response from the taller boy, but judging by the look on his face, it was clear that the exchange would go without a hitch. Unfortunately, the blue haired boy thought too soon as the sound of quick footsteps caught Fei and the bard's attention. Fei was still to far away to look past everyone else in the stairway, but the voice that resounded clearly around the area made it clear that it was the prince introducing himself.

Although his face remained entirely stoic, even towards the other that he was suppose to escort, Fei was looking forward to this little journey. He knew that it would help in finding his father and also improve his lackluster understand of other people and emotions. Speaking of other people, Fei's attention snapped back to the bard, who was now speaking in an odd tongue. This confusing, and slightly frightening, moment caused the bluenette to pull his thunder tome back to his chest. Once the bard returned back to a more appropriate language, Fei couldn't help but push a little air into his cheeks, causing his lips to purse and ultimately pout. It was disappointing that he couldn't get a closer look at the bard's, Zachary's, bent instrument, but at this point, whatever the prince said comes first, right?
"...Fei S-Sima..." Fei gave out his own name before nodding and ended their brief conversation with that.

Fei took a quick moment to place his tome back into his bag before focusing on what Prince Eli had in store for us. Fortunately, it wasn't anything too crazy and just some breakfast to help everyone get to know each other better. While most would think this is an easy task that doesn't require much thinking to accomplish, Fei was a little uncomfortable about talking to all of them, especially the prince. His sisters had groomed and taught him exactly what to say when to say it, but getting his face to emote those emotions was going to be tough. Oh, and not to mention that there are some scary dudes here to help escort the prince! Why was he invited in the first place?! Would he even survive around these guys? Wh-What if they outcast him? Or realize that he's not up for the job? Fei's hands began to visibly shake as he let his tainted thoughts replay in his head like a broken record. Fortunately, Zachary's boisterous voice brought the bluenette back to reality and he followed, albeit reluctantly, the others into the banquet hall, clasping his hands together in attempt to keep his shaking down to a minimum.

Upon entering the large room, Fei couldn't help but gawk at the paintings and other expensive furniture that littered the room. He had never seen a room quite like it before. And while his face didn't show it, the rest of his trembling body did. It wasn't really fear as it was more overwhelming; back at home, everything was either made of wood or cotton, not fancy, just the necessities. Zachary's catchy tunes weren't enough to quell this uneasiness as Fei hurriedly hopped into a seat as far away to the right of the prince as possible and swung his legs as an attempt to distract himself from the room in general.

Blue eyes soon moved over to the head of the table as the prince's right hand woman began to speak. She held an authoritative air to her, one that Fei didn't want to mess with. As soon as the woman named Rhea finished speaking, the man with the mask from before spoke, claiming his name to be Gorou. What the man said afterwards was overall confusing to the boy since he only had to focus on protecting the prince, and with the inclusion of another man to their conversation made it even harder to keep up, but he did attempt to make sense of it from afar. However, after a few minutes of doing so, Fei gave up and lowered his head to stare at his lap, his hands still trembling from being nervous...how much longer until this whole 'getting-to-know-each-other-thing' was over?