“Do you remember what I taught you?” a whisper in his left ear, no, more like a low rumble, “about exhaling before you shoot yes?”

“Yes, pater,” A young boy crouches with an older male behind bushes, the air is cool, a light snow drifts towards the earth below. The sun shines through the trees, illuminating the blanketed ground and silhouetting a large stag pawing at the snow for any signs of life to consume. The boy begins to notch an arrow into his bow, “breathe in for strength, breathe out for accuracy,” his voice barely above a whisper. The man nods, “good, now show me what you can do.” The boy’s eyes remain firmly affixed to his target, his head barely nodding to acknowledge his father’s words.



The bow shifted to eye level, a steady hand gripped firmly ahead of him, another prepared to pull on the taut string. The boy imagined himself as the arrow, gliding swiftly from his cheek, to pierce the heart of this majestic beast.



Pulling with all his might, the tension increases as the arrow is brought from rest to against the boy’s cheek. The fletching extends out from his eye into the shaft, the tip of the arrow planted firmly against the stag’s heart. In his mind’s eye, he could see his target and in his heart he was prepared to take this life, to further extend his own.



In one fell swoop, his grip laxed and the arrow loosed. Straight and true to its intended target, the unsuspecting stag cried out to the heavens and collapsed to the ground; silent. The older male exclaimed in joy, “Yes boy! Well done!” A firm hand clapped against the boy’s back, “Now we tie him up and bring him back to the village, your mother is going to make stew again!”

The boy got up with the man and nodded, trodding through the snow to claim their prize. As the boy got closer, the sky slowly turned darker and darker and as he grew in height, so too did the stag decrease in size. From the lovely, muscled and healthy stag the boy had slew, now stood a towering giant of a man before a pathetic, famine wretched creature, barely clinging to life. Unlike the child who believed in a clean shot, this hunter had grown into something that couldn’t afford to be human about food anymore.

“Forgive me, little one, know that while you suffer this pain now, your body shall nourish others soon. I only hope that will be a small comfort for what I am about to do to you, and for this I am truly sorry…” The man knelt beside the stag, its labored and sickly breathing silenced quickly as Ivor drew his knife and slit its throat.



As Ivor opened his mouth a wispy white mist emerged from the beast’s neck wound and found its way to him. As if he were drawing breath, the mist entered his body and filled his lungs. A soul’s energy was unlike anything he had experienced as a man. It felt like an instant shot of energy, like adrenaline without a hard crash, it filled him with vigor. However, the drawback with such raw life is to also feel its raw emotion as well. Hunger, pain, fear, survival, kill, there were no cohesive thoughts, only engrained feelings that had welled up during the creature’s life and amplified near its end. The feelings were similar to the other creatures he’d slew over the last week and a half. Everything from pheasants, pigeons, rabbits, squirrels and this starved stag, only confirmed what he had been seeing visually.

“Food is becoming scarce…” It wasn’t something he wanted to admit, but even with his heightened senses it was becoming more difficult to track down any game. On top of that, the game he did find was struggling as much as he was with food. Ivor noted the ribs protruding a little too much for a beast of this size as he removed the arrow. Stag were hearty creatures, feasting on the forest floor, an abundance of grass, nuts and berries and fresh vegetation wherever found. Such a wild assortment of food creates the unique and gamey taste that so many crave. While this beast wouldn’t taste nearly as good, he was sure that Syraeia would be able to make it edible for the townsfolk.

As Ivor roped up the stag to haul it with his other kills, he took in his surroundings. He said he would be back in a few days, a week at most. It had already been longer than that, far longer than he had intended and though he didn’t expect a rescue party to come after him, he didn’t want to cause any distrust for his extended absence. A couple dozen smaller animals, plus one barely average stag, a disappointing hunt for him personally to be sure, but whatever food he would bring back would be appreciated, he knew this much. A day and a half of continuous travel at most, it’d be a long trek, but he had plenty of time to kill now that he was dead…



The heavy snow that came in slowed his progress, but Ivor had trudged his way back to civilization, to Dawn Haven. The cold was something he had been used to as a man before, but now as a blight-born, he was practically immune to the biting chill, his only adornments the tied carcasses of small mammals that draped round his neck. Behind him, the stag was being dragged on a makeshift sled. While Ivor could easily have dragged it back as is, this would preserve what little flesh the creature had left on it from being damaged by the ground and the people would be happier for it.

The small settlement slowly grew larger in size as Ivor approached, grateful the sky was as clear as it was considering the last few days. As he approached the village, he spotted the guards at the gate, they appeared to be tending to a rather antsy Lunarian heavy and what he surmised was its rider. His slow trudge soon turned into a slightly faster gait as he lifted his legs to go into a type of run. The earth shook beneath him slightly with each heavy footfall, the shuddering ground gaining him the attention of the gate’s keepers.

“Hail! I come back from the hunt with lots of great things!” Closing the distance between him and the guards, he noticed the short haired woman, exhausted and catching her breath, “Who is this? What has happening here? Hm?” Though Ivor’s intentions were usually good natured, his low guttural voice and thick accent often left a worse than desired impression of him. “Speak quickly friends, the stag will not dry itself!”

A Lunarian Heavy Is not a tame horse by nature, but even the trained animals backed off from the giant of a man though it scraped the ground with a large steel shod hoof as it stopped backing up unable to move far. Its mane was deep black as rest and tied and braided though that had grown wild from riding and was snagged with debris, of travel.

Snorting before it tossed its large head the Horse had nowhere to back up, something about its senses picked up the man was not normal in some sense the horse understood as a basic instinct. The man was not a man, the man was a question and the question meant danger.

“Calm, calm Agmar” The woman repeated in a accent from the Capital, a defined and clearly Lunarian tone and choice of words as she turned a minute later having partly calmed her mount. When she turned, she shook slightly but leaned weight and forced self to stay upright with will and determination. Only…she had to look up, very much up. 5'10 and even clad in furs and such she was tiny compared to the giant of a man in an accent, thick one she could not place its location.

“She only arrived a short time ago, Probably from the mountains. Was gonna let her have a few minutes before we asked why she here.” The guard Said unsure, they did know Lunaris was that way but they had no real reason to head to the border and horses like this were not a local breed, Lunaris never sold many of this breed at all. “Not local this beauty. Not the first, Officer sort. Older guy, fancy armour” Gesturing to the tall back horse and waving in vague gestures at the town. The guard still had hours left on shift , his compatriot was leaning against a barrel with a freshly turned spear shaft he was oiling and waxing clad in unform and latest auralian armour, though still was getting used to it. “Syraeia might make you pay her for that deer, head on in, get warm, first snows tonight.” The Bearded former mercenary joked and was cheerful despite the snow who had joined the Princes settlement for a fresh start and to get away from his old life of fighting for gold. He was a rough round edges sort but also knew every dirty and wrong trick going and how to spot them. He had willingly offered his services in exchange for a new life to protect Dawnhaven.

Guard duty got pretty boring though, 2 months and they checked papers and so for most part. This place was so far from each capital they barely made it onto the maps. Even professionals got bored so they got to know the towns folks and traders over time.

He was obviously tainted by the blight, no one could be so clad and survive these conditions as a regular mortal being. She was guarded, cautious and her tone was neutral. “Valors edge, I am from Valors Edge border Fort. Vindacus pass. Came to seek comrades and assistance.” She said with almost a report in order and kept her rank and such quiet, deciding it was better to tell the truth, but to choose which truth to give.

“Persephone Laconia, snows come, safer to head down than up.” Persephone was honest to and admitted that Blightborn, the Lunaris, Auralia, Borders and more were at its mercy and all had to work together against both blight and winter, as much as uncomfortable thought they could not stand alone like their ancestors.

“I need to find the Inn, Lunaris comrades, a place to start.” She said, her own more eloquent speech was dogged by mental and physical tiredness. Looking at the sad form of the deer that lay on a dragged cart, it was a sad and starved carcass. “Poor Burcher with that one. You? Anything i need to know about the place?” Persephone looked and thought how it would take work to get safe meat from it. She asked after the giant and what he was, maybe it would tell her more about Dawn Haven and how it operated.

The first goal was to gain intelligence, to gain information and get the lay of the land, with that she could plan her next steps going forward. Anything could be used, small or large, and that led to her next goal… her mind still worked in that way even in this state.

"let her in Jameson, she would never make it back in this state. Least to get a meal and a rest if uncessful." The Bearded man barely paused his work honing his spear and looked up adjusting his helmet to keep the snow off his neck. She was Lunarian but also was a Lone rider and not a whole mounted Paladin company. With winter looking they had bigger enemies than their ancestral rivals. His other guard liked to investigate things too hard at times and this woman was dead on her feet. He was a older soldier and trusted his instincts as well as gut feeling, she might be a problem but thay was a problem for people above his station in matters that did not relate to his job.

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@BeastofDestiny

Flynn’s eyes shifted from each of the three faces that stood before him as the young squire introduced them, his gaze lingering on the two older men who posed the greatest physical threat. “Well met, Lord Coswain.” He greeted, a charming princely smile appearing on his lips as he addressed the man who was clearly the leader of the group. Despite his unease at an unknown unit from Lunaris appearing without warning, Flynn knew he had to play their little game if they had been sent by the King for hidden motives. He was well-versed in this game, one that all royals were trained to play from birth. The King and Queen of Aurelia had prepared Flynn thoroughly for the world of politics, though it often made him want to crawl out of his own skin and hide.

“We shall have cabins built for you at once. Until then, please feel free to take a room here at the Inn.” Flynn’s gaze moved past the group, finding the blight-born cyclops woman who had been tasked as their Inn Keeper. “Syraeia,” He held eye contact with her one large blue eye that shone underneath her hood, “Have three beds made up for them, will you? I will give you the gold for it myself.” He maintained his warm smile, although he had to admit that looking at Syraeia often made him uncomfortable. Until the woman had come to Dawnhaven, Flynn had never seen such a mutation. By all accounts she had seemed mentally stable and “normal” when speaking with her, but it didn’t make her appearance any less taboo. He felt bad for her, though she seemed to be dealing with the transformation well enough. As long as she did not harm anyone, Flynn welcomed her with open arms.

“We can certainly use all the help we can get.” He added, returning his attention to Lord Coswain. He then looked towards his wife, trying to gauge how she was feeling about the situation. Surely, she would know more about her father’s intentions than he would. Did she know these people? Unable to read her expression, he made a mental note to discuss this with her at another time. “Octavia, what would you have them do to contribute to our preparations for winter?” He asked, confident that she would know what needed the most attention. Perhaps firewood or hunting? Gathering pelts or scavenging food? He decided to let her take charge on this matter, as he was clearly out of his depth and had no trouble admitting so.

As he let Octavia speak with them, Flynn moved closer to Syraeia and quietly inquired, “Have you seen Sunni around anywhere?”

---

_{Interactions: Octavia @The Savant, Lord Coswain & Syraeia @PrinceAlexus
Mentions: Sunni @The Savant}

Ivor’s gaze shifted between the woman and her horse, neither trusted his sudden presence, which was fair given his outstanding gait, but he wasn’t here to make enemies. As the woman tried to calm her steed, Ivor began to remove his kills from his body. Each corpse slowly draped down onto the deer and as Ivor slowly lowered himself into a crouch on all fours, his eyes never left the steed. Each move he made was deliberate, careful, he spoke to the creature in his native tongue, a noise comparable to rocks and stones being slurried through a river. His voice, still gruff, was now fluent; it sounded harsh, rough, direct, but its tone was affirmative and somehow calm like a low rumble. Some could consider what he was doing witchcraft, but this was the man, Ivor, trying to reach out to the beast, to look past his blighted form.

“Calm, Agnar. I come to you in peace my brother,” Ivor bowed respectively, like a servant would to a king, acknowledging this creature’s strength and majesty. “You are tired, your master is tired, we are here to help and make you whole again.” Ivor inched ever closer, the steed stamping its hoof in protest, but lessening with each word spoken. Once close enough, he closed the gap and gently stroked the horse’s mane. Where there were panicked noises, was now replaced with the heavy breathing of a stallion realizing it was out of steam, and allowed this giant to touch him. “Good Agnar, good calm,” Ivor spoke as he shifted back to the common tongue, “Jabool!” He exclaimed as he nodded to the guard before turning his attention back to the rider, taking a knee in front of her.

He listened as best he could to her words, he’d only been here for a few months and barely knew the common tongue beforehand. While he’d certainly made leaps and bounds in progress and basic grammar, if it wasn’t obvious before, the common tongue was not his first language. He placed a hand on his chest, “My name, Ivor, this is Dawn Haven, our home,” he said, extending it out to the settlement. “You are Lunaran? Yes? I take you to other Lunarans, but first you see, Syraeia.” He paused for any of her protests before continuing deliberately, “You. Need. Rest. Rider…” Standing to full height he walked to his makeshift sled, picking up his kills to drape around his neck again. “I do not…err what is word..presume, yes? That you want to be carried, but you are can not stand, so…” picking up the stag from the sled, he hauled up the body like a sack of potatoes, “A lady… needs a chariot, yes?” Or so he thought, at least that’s what the story books he was reading said anyway. He gestured for her to get on, at least this way he could bring her to the inn where Syraeia was sure to have something warm and filling.

_{@PrinceAlexus}

As she traipsed through the streets, the sunless sky stared down upon her, dark and uncaring as always.

It was but a simple shawl and cloak she wore to stave off the constant chill; brown and drab just like the poorly lit streets she walked. Yet she was not alone for there were still the morning parades of townsfolk heading to market, to work, to any place really, heads down and not a single smile afforded for ones neighbour. Sure one could call it a hubub of morning activity but one would be hard pressed to call it anything close to 'lively' activity. And just like those others in the streets, she too kept to herself, brown scarf covering brown face, basket in hand filled with the various ingredients and produce requested by 'Cheffie.'

If anything betrayed her common drab look it was those eyes. The twin circlets shone like precious jade, the life therein betraying and piercing the atmosphere's cold, wet blanket that so many wrapped themselves within. Green eyes peered about the roads, curious to see if any recognized her dressed as she was. And loathe to use it, it was but second nature to implement her magical advantage of seeing clearly in the darkness afterall. Of course not a single one of the townsfolk paid her any mind, but still she wondered what would happen if they knew just who she used to be. A smile lit the dark behind that scarf. It was rather vain and self-centred, but she remembered who she used to be, and more importantly, she knew who she was here in Dawnhaven and what she had to do. What she did uplifted the spirits here, not to mention the healing effects it had on her own unworthy heart and cracked soul.

Her name was shortened to 'Na'Ri' by those that felt familiar or comfortable enough with her to call her by such a nick name. She was the errand girl of the Beholder. Rushing off to market in the morning, rolling out empty tankards and barrels, sweeping inside and out, and even washing a dish or two. Out through the back door and back in the same way. Yes, in the mornings, she was but Na'Ri the errand girl. As she pressed her hip to push open the back door, she was greeted fondly with that name. The filled basket she hefted up and onto the prep counter, calling out to 'Cheffie' as she did. The cook greeted her with a grand thanks as they went through the basket, nodding in appreciation with each item inspected. She then removed her scarf and smiled that signature smile; the one the nightly patrons recognized during those dazzling times they called her by her name proper.

Over to the closet she went and hung her cloak and scarf, trading them in for an apron and a tucking her dark hair into a bonnet. Once ready, she waltzed through the kitchen and made hear way out to the service area. There she could hear the voice of the proprietor and owner of the Beholder, the lovely Ms. Sy-a. And of course a bee line she would make to the empath. Simple smiles and nods, she would give the sparse morning patrons; greeting and chatting them up individually would have to wait until after she co-ordinated her duties for the day with her boss.

But Na'Ri's spry steps slowed to a cautious gait. There were several unfamiliar voices drifting in through the doorway into the kitchen. Dark brows slanted downward with concern; the formal tones were not ones she was used to hearing at this time of day. She slowed her pace even further when she heard his voice. Prince Flynn was here in the Beholder! That may mean that--

Pupils dialated as she came to a dead stop. Naz could only hear the thrumming of her heart in her ears and could start to feel the heat rising from her cheeks and other parts. Her jaw slackened yet still a pleasant shape formed at her full lips. All she could do now was lean against the frame separating the kitchen and the service area, staring at the princess, green eyes scintillating like gems, calm demeamour struggling to keep in check. Princess Octavia... oh but her majesty was such a beguiling sight to behold!

Na'Ri felt the goofy grin start to take form upon her visage and green eyes popped wide in realization. Heat and blood rushed her cheeks as she bit her lower lip and aimed her gaze at the worn planks neath her feet. She watched her brown hands wring out her embarrassment for a few seconds longer, then she entered into the service area, eyes low and walking demurely.

"Hail to your highnesses," a proper curtsy she donned the royal pair, "a welcome pleasure and honour it is in your presence."
Eyes still averted, she stepped slowly towards Sy-a and turned, flanking her as always, hands clasped neatly in front of her, resting upon her apron. As she waited to be dismissed or ordered to a duty, the young woman took a deep breath and smiled, green eyes sparkling as her mind searched for lyrics fitting for a royal. Oh, but this morning could not have started any better.

---

---

Willis slaps the bum of his pony as they gallop at breakneck speed along a declining dirt road, that curves along a mountain. He glance behind him and the wind whips back his hair.

Under a bright moon he hears thunderous hoove beats getting closer and closer, and then a whole host of infantry led by a knight burst around the curve of the mountain on their warhorse kicking up a huge cloud of dust, heading straight at him! The riders draw their bows from beneath the pommel of their saddles, each nocking 3 arrows, and let loose a volley!

"Sh- OUCH!" A wave of arrows makes an arc in the air, whooshing as they pass through Willis, and 7 arrows instantly cushion his back. Then the drawstrings snap snap snap behind him as the riders let loose another volley! Willis yells and loops his arm around the furry neck of his pony, kicking off his stirrup to swing under his pony just as the arrows rain down!

Thunk thunk thunk! His pony spasms as arrows pepper it and rake the ground around it, and dies mid-ride. As it sinks on its front leg and skid along the dirt Willis hears someone curse in Lunarian and turns in time to see the knight gaining to his flank, swinging a claymore at him that glint in the moonlight. Quickly he turns into a brown bat and slams into the adjacent knight in a big puff of smoke! The rider is knocked off his saddle and skid along the ground with a leg in the stirrup, hands flailing about, leaving a trail of sparks!

Now Willis is back to human form, crouching low on his galloping warhorse. He draws his shortsword and spins his reluctant warhorse around to race toward his pursuers. He rides until a stone toss' away from the lagging infantry and they turn their horses in panick. With a loud RAHHH!!! he leaps off his warhorse and lands in the lap of a rider, and he cuts off his head, letting blood from the stump spray into his mouth. Yum! A trio of them catches up to him and thrust their spears at his body, but he slices off their spearhead just under the shaft and pounces on their horses, falling the column of infantry one by one.

He cuts down half their number like this before the rest gets the idea and flees. As the last of his pursuers disappear from view Willis slips down his warhorse and it collapses on the blood stained ground.

"Ugh! Hopefully this baron gets the message and stop sending deathsquads after me..." Willis mumbles to himself as he walk beside the horse and stab into its long neck with his bent sword. Blood sprays into his mouth and all over his body in a dark red layer. He shakes his head and tosses his useless sword away. Then he went about scavenging the bodies, shooing away the carrion birds as he does.

Willis unfurls a bloody map he found from the dead knight and squints at its content. "Hmm...I guess I'll follow the road until I see cooking smoke. Dawnhaven should be close." And with a puff he turns into a brown bat, flapping his wings as he flies into the night sky.

Redacted

Persephone was tired, it took effort to keep her head up and her thoughts sharp as they were blunt right now. The voice she heard was low, like a rockslide on the hard ride here kicked up by Agmars hooves and in a dialect that had maybe once something akin to an Lunarian, in a very very remote form and long mutated beyond any close relation now. “Yes Lunarian.” She replied, his accent and understanding of the common tongue was very much rudimentary but years of travel she had grown used to having to decipher various dialects and regional differences.

The woman just replied with a nod, the fact she was right that the Lunarian force had made it here and not been forced to turn back or got stuck on the pass, ambushed or just had an accident. Was honestly a relief. Even with people regularly travelling the main passes, accidents happened and things went wrong. Lunaris was not a tame or kind land that would cut you a chance or show you mercy. “Thank the moon's light” Persephone said with relief, her ride was not in vain. The information at the keeps was correct.

Accepting aid from a blightborn was difficult, all her training and life in the service of the Lunaris Throne of the last few years had been the major threat to the kingdom among the other regular older threats to be countered. Blightborn were powerful, they could kill even veteran experienced paladins in combat, Paladins who took years to replace and few could rise to that rank and status amongst the Royal Guards members. The standards were too high to just replace one. Blightborn just had that level of power, the Kings own elite Paladins had to be called to tackle some threats and in force.

She tried to push forward but realised she would have to accept help, he was right. “Presume, I can barely stand so yes.” Persephone fell onto the sled with a soft bump and pulled her furs close so as not to get dragged onto the ground, she saw her horse calm. “Look after Agmar. His tack is double buckled.” Persephone asked the guards, hopefully someone would see him to a stable and her bags to the inn. Aurailan guards were not her favourites but they were meant to be professional.

At a certain stage you had to put aside your feelings for the mission, the goal, and the objective. Right now that was to eat, get warm and find comrades, she found the right place so all she had to do was the next phase. Lunarians were proud, but unlike their Aurelian alternatives pragmatic and survival trumped your feelings.

Persephone swallowed her pride.




Syraeia let the scene playout as Lord Coswain, the Prince, Princess and others engaged in a game of diplomacy, aka lies, deception and trickery. She was not that well educated but knew to stay out of the game between people with titles, it rarely ended well and they said lots of words that meant very little. A simple but fairly accurate understanding of the events, especially as she knew both Kingdoms had regular skirmishes, influenced and tried to use the Borderlands for their own ends against each other.

“Of course my Prince, I have two rooms available, Lord Coswain is welcome along with his party.” Syraeia said politely and schooled her face to avoid showing frustration at Royals being so... Royal. Nobles never thought like that though. “Would you like to partake in our hospitality while you're here, your highness's?” She asked a little bit cheeky but with effort to show that this was also her little domain, however humble vs a Princes realm. "The stew is hot and spicey, a perfect cure for the cold."?

She could not really look away when he made eye contact, her own eye almost glowing the faintest blue beneath her hood which she preferred to wear when working up front. She dropped when working In the back and so with Sunni and Na'ri.

The Prince suprised her with his more direct question to her, this was a more... direct matter he seemed to need to attend to than the grand standing and such going on. "My Prince, he was here, kitchen. If he left it was by the back door. He came to get some food, and a personal matter. After that i do not know. He was working on a building but that was before his meal." She chose her working carefully, their where things she was happy to say and was thankful for the Prince, but she did not break confidence or lie either.

"If you may excuse me highness's, i need to update staff and ensure rooms are apropiate." She finished with a carefully worded way to try and not be caught between whatever Sunni had going on and whatever the Prince wanted.

As things turned to be between the Prince and his wife, Syraeia noticed that the rather beautiful Na'ri who had somehow ended up taking a job, was a rather attractive and charming woman who stood 8 inches taller than Syraeia small stature. A figure like a dancer and skin that looked perpetually vibrant with life and energy. Honestly she wondered how she ended up here but was too polite to ask, Dawn Haven was a place for fresh starts and not dragging up old wounds. Syraeia respected her privacy and as long as no trouble followed her, she would offer what work she could for the talented dancer.

Certain questions went unsaid however and the arrangement did benefit in more than one way. Some things are better left in the dark.

“Na'ri, your timing is perfect i could hug you ” after letting her make a rather more charming and polished introduction to the Prince and the action giving them a minute or two gap. “I need to make sure the rooms are worthy of the guests, The Lady in furs is renting the best room, and one for her coachman, and we have Lord Coswain plus 2, with 2 rooms, one for his female squire.” She explained quickly, quietly and kept the borderlands out of her accent so she could be easily understood. “Your in charge, keep them happy, Coswains party, 1 wine, 2 ale, food. They have coin, so better stuff, Royal Guard, they never travel light on coins. Just do what you do best, be you. and don't let them disrespect you, they are knights and nobles but this is our roof and hearth. Same with Lady, she can afford best room, so I already gave her my better stock and personally took care of her.” Syraeia gave her a smile that reached her large eye, glittering almost in her hood's shadows as she finished. She herself was having to learn a lot but Sunni had also taught her if she wanted to be respected as the Inns keepers, she had to act like one. Na'ri worked for her, so she was responsible for her too. “It we have a good run, I might be able to pay you extra while things going well with all rooms booked out, and wealthy soldiers about.” Despite her strong desire to hoard gold like a jealous dragon he told her, the rule is that the gold must flow and sometimes that means losing a little of your own, to keep the larger picture and greater profits.

And she did give her a quick hug out of character for the blightborn innkeeper, Syraeia had been put in an excellent mood by Sunni, and her…”not flirting” with the blight born high born lady earlier… she was not flirting, no …. Her own interests, well quite honestly she no longer knew, her life and very existence had changed so much, a romantic relationship was before this a thing that she had deemed impossible. Na'ri and Sunni would probably work it out of course... they where too smart.






Adonis Coswain was too experienced to react to Prince with any fear but a respectful nod of his head. They both knew how the game was played, the rules and little gestures that must be returned. He was not a full Paladin of the Royal Guard but their was a reason he was sent, he was loyal and determined but his fervour and such had been tempered by the hard forge of experience, combat and time at court in Lunaris. He got results and was reliable.

“Many thanks to the moon for your generous lands and gifts.” He said with a smooth tone never wavering and remaining calm as a mountain in a winter blizzard entirely immune to the harsh buffeting storm. When he suggested Octavia ask what preparations were to be made, he had never really interacted with the Princess at all before this, he had worked with the King and Queen several times among others at court, from personal protection to other more interesting jobs and the odd less savoury task but Octavia was new to him.

At the mention of firewood, construction and so, well it was a bit of a downgrade for a Royal Guard Officer but he had done it before, he was used to doing what you had to, Lunaris did not have luxury very often of choice. “Just like Morning star pass then” He said with an easy confidence and glance at Hector who he had served and shared a siege sap with at that harsh campaign.

Morning star pass was an older conflict between Lunaris and Auralia, the battle was for a desolate pass and neither side had won more than blood and treasure wasted. Coswain had arrived and was soon put in charge as newly minted Squire Captain of driving a sap to the fort's walls, fighting, digging, labouring in the rocky earth.

The battle had already cost 2 captain's in that trench alone. The ending was as frozen as a Lunaris lake, the Fort was heavily damaged but remained in Auralian defenders hands. Lunaris had held its trenches and siege works of rammed earth uncut stones and basket work of ugly but solid and durable construction that could withstand every assault thrown at them. however ugly they proved resolute and the soldiers behind them as unmovable, Auralia for their enemy, you had to respect their tenacity to hold and attack. No one considered that a victory who had served or seen in that forsaken pass.

“Some physical work is good for the body” Coswain said and Hector gave a knowing look to his comrade, having served together for many years. “My Prince, Princess, it seems you have made an Officer do some work for once” He said respectfully but with a little humour and a soldier's rougher tone. “I have skills and a younger assistant. We will aid where and how able” He gestured to Daphne who gave a nod as she stood at parade rest posture. She had little to add and decided the game of words and such where way too much of a ballet of of mental acrobatics for her to want to be caught up in.

“I'm sure the Tavern mistress shall provide for us and ensure we have a warm dry bed and a good meal.” He was unsure about the hooded woman he assumed ran the Inn here. She kept her face hidden but her skin looked normal, stature was tiny but that was not abnormal either. He would not voice that though and he kept his thoughts off his face and posture. As he turned to direct and address the slight and short woman who ran the Inn as he assumed from Princes request.

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@Girlie Go Boom
@BeastofDestiny
@The Muse
@amorphical

Leaning against the base of a pine tree, hidden in the shadows, Kira quietly observed a scene unfold before her in the village square. The Aurelian Prince speaking to the Princess before holding hands and entering the tavern as a united front. The hyper-sexual birdman, Pleiades, flying overhead and roosting atop the tavern, achieving a far better view of the town than she had. The Prince's right-hand-man, Orion, posting up outside the establishment to keep guard. And then, best of all, that wholesome little Sage Eris taking a tumble head first into the dirt while the red-headed merchant struggled to act quickly enough to catch her. Kira nearly laughed out loud at the sound Eris had squeaked out when she fell. “Serves her right.” Kira thought, having a disdain for all Sages these days. Eris had poked, prodded and interrogated Kira incessantly over the past two months, so she couldn't help but take some satisfaction in the woman's misfortune.

However, as the silver haired woman known as the Handmaiden to the Princess entered the scene, Kira's amusement vanished instantly. Her eyes, glowing brightly in the shadows, began to dilate. Her attention fully focused in on the woman as she stopped to speak with Sunni and Eris. With her heightened senses, Kira honed in on the sound of Elara's heartbeat. Even from over 100 feet away, Kira could smell the blood coursing through her veins. A familiar hunger began to settle in, and Kira fought the urge to bare her fangs and sink them into the woman's pale neck.

Kira closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to push her feral thoughts away. “Not her, not her, not her. Not.... Her....” Kira repeated to herself, continuing to inhale the crisp winter air. For nearly two months now, Kira had been avoiding Elara, despite having known her during her time at the capital. Both were servants to the Kingdom and they had bonded over that in their younger years, even though their lines of service had been vastly different. Nonetheless, they both lived in the castle under the heels of the royal family.

When Kira had arrived in Dawnhaven seeking refuge, now a blight-born monster, she had initially been happy to see Elara's familiar face. At least she would have someone to converse with! However, Kira quickly realized she could not allow herself near Elara. Something about her blood type made Kira feel uncontrollable. It was different than all the rest; sweeter, almost. If only she could just try a little.... “No!” She thought, cutting off her thoughts before they turned darker. “I have to get out of here.” She thought, feeling sweat beginning to bead up on her forehead as she resisted her instincts.

Leaving the village square, Kira began to head for the northern exit. If she didn't want to think about getting a taste of her childhood friend all night, she'd need to hunt something down instead...

---

_{Mentions: Elara, Orion @Qia, Sunni, Octavia, Pleiades @The Savant, Eris}

_____________________________
Dawnhaven, Eye of the beholder...

Even as the royals came to the tavern Olivia sat still it was simply not the time or place to announce herself and it wouldn't matter anyway as her mind was locked onto her own pressing needs. In her fur cave she sat thinking with a deep blush on how the night would play out. Her hunger driving the ideas across her mind like a paint brush stroke across a blank canvas. Making sure Alex was getting drunk with the casual glance at him, the hunger grew. She continued to watch the other cloaked figure serving drinks and tending to the guests that were quickly filling the small tavern. As the crowd grew Olivia felt nervous more so from not having her confidant Jaylen by her side a little contribution to being blight born in a strange land.

In her fathers territory you grew up knowing everybody. Their names, their families, their personal business. Now she sat knowing no one. Worse still she was always surrounded by guards and walls of stone. All of that so far away and the feeling of being exposed was not pleasant by any means. Dear gods someone could... Olivia shook that idea right out of her head! The heavy cloak hiding the movements within. More disturbing thought took swipes at her from inside her own mind. Then The pale woman felt it. It was so strong, the shift in the room. As if a god had picked up the small tavern and turned it to face a new direction and that direction was at the bronze skinned serving girl in the bonnet and apron. Even from the distance apart she could feel the other girls desires. Giving Alex a snap from her fingers to gain his attention. "You see that server there? Call her over talk to her, order something but take your time."

From the cave she watched and followed the eyes of the server to her the other person. The princess?! Her eyes grew large forgetting the courtly issues of status and titles and such, The bonze woman was having a strong reaction to another woman. The thoughts of herself and Jaylen swirled together as if Olivia was becoming light headed with such fresh... possibilities. The red irises watched as the bronze server interreacted with her own interest of the blight born tavern keeper. Feeling the tavern woman Syraeia's emotions was harder being blight born herself and not that Olivia would know any of that having never been exposed to her kind until tonight. The place was a buzz of swirling emotions and patrons. Yet the dish her hunger craved that filled her veins was the tavern girl with green eyes and the deep longing for another. Under her cloak she sucked lightly at her own bottom lip. Perhaps this way she wouldn't need for such an embarrassing act with her guard. Gods why was he taking so long? Impatient for results she playfully kicked him under the table.

"Ooow.." He shot her a glance forgetting her station for a moment. It was really good ale, not the watered down ones at the tavern back home which only confirmed is suspicion that Mc'Allister had indeed been doing such a nefarious thing to him all these years! Cheeky bastard. Alex raised his hand high over head staring at the girl against the door frame. Waving urgently. His own thoughts started in seeing her figure behind the apron and the dark hair, bronze skin it was clear she was, very attractive. As the thought struck him he added a little flourish to his wave, his own interests growing for the woman.

Olivia watched him and yet when her coachman started to let his emotions surge to the surface forgetting who he was sitting so close from she took the smallest of sips from the stream. It was sweet on her lips, but a mere trickle to her thirst. She almost smirked forgetting her station trying to play coy as the man growing fond of the woman growing fond of the princess played out. She needed more. Moving her seat closer she whispered from her cave. "She is lovely, a fine figure of a woman to be sure. Have another drink, Alex." Reaching out to touch his forearm. "Just relax." She whispered some more into his ear. As her eyes looked on she saw her own crush hug the tavern girl gave her thoughts on Syraeia hope. Yet the notion she might be spoken for by the other girl made her eyes narrow. Why were all the good ones taken? No, she thought even if it were true they were blight borne, the other girl clearly was not. Still gripped by nervousness she raised her hand trying to get her own interests attention. Being bold in the open like some common harlot made the lady smile slightly.

In the keep decorum was held tighter then her royal corset and now in the countryside away from such stifling trappings she felt so deliciously unfettered. The lady sighed thinking how easy some of the simple life was for her people being so open all the time. The smiles and free laughter as they spoke plainly. Not back strait, face a stone mask of calming assurity, waist nearly pinched in two by the trappings or that itchy cage pressing so tightly for hours as she sat on one of the most god awful uncomfortable seats in her entire holdings! Listening to speech flowing as free as the ale the servers poured it felt simply good to be in the moment, or at least it would have if not for the gnawing pit in her chest!

Coming back to reality she took her hand off of Alex and left the other in the air. The sip from him would have to do. Her eyes never having left her own interest. There was something, a feeling, it was small from the distance and possibly other things, and yet... she was only able to know for sure if the woman would just come closer. Olivia curse the waiting yet the image of that huge gorgeous eye like a jewel staring down at her made her wait. Gods what a cruel fate, sitting in a tavern in rags instead of her keep and silver gown. No it would do, the lack of decorum could work in her favor. Syraeia had no real reason to suspect her to be anything more than some traveler she would invite the woman to her room to... talk. It was simple, innocent, yes it was perfect and far better with her then Alex. Oh he was a good hearted guy and a little too willing to go with her ideas at times yet Olivia didn't really feel that way about him. Maybe he could spirit the other girl away from her own interest and then... she grinned most deviously.

Mentions:
@The Muse
@PrinceAlexus
@Girlie Go Boom

Willis keeps looking at the landscape below him from a bat-eye view. A strong gust blows through the forest, parting the needles from the pines and he catches a glimpse of what appears to be a travel route stretching southward. He smiles. "Let's go check that out!"

Willis, in batform, flies a few circles over the tracks, closing his eyes in contentment as he feels tiny snowflakes collide against his outstretched wings and tickle his fur. Then the brown bat slows to a hover midair and nosedives right into a gigantic pine tree!

Thud! A grown man crashes through its branches and slides down the pine braking his sword against the wood, carving the pine in half! Willis dusts off the wood shavings and pine needles from his head and shoulder and steps on the tree, yanking out his sword to sheath it while a squirrel squirms in his mouth, dripping blood. He carefully kneels next to the track left behind by a hunting party as he snacks on the squirrel.

"Hmm... *Slurrrp* looks like the trail is less than a day's old. Fresh groovemark from a cart? Sled? ... *Slurrrp* And a single pair of footprints. Wow, this guy must be strong." He takes a pinch of dirt in his hands and let it run between his fingers. "So Dawnhaven... *Slurrrp* has a blighted hunter. That's food for thought."

"Wait, something's wrong..." Willis suddenly jerks his head up, sniffing the air. A wave of unease washes over him. A primal part of his brain is telling him that another of his kind is near. He hastily stands and rests his hand over the pommel of his sword, yelling: "I know where you are. Come out! Face me!" The dead squirrel falls out of his mouth to the ground, with a soft plop.

---

Interactions:
@The Muse Kira

Mentions:
@BeastofDestiny Ivor

_{Mentions: @The Muse Kira;@BeastofDestiny Ivor ; @PrinceAlexus Persephone}

---

Wenyr's parents had always told him that the first impression was the most important one, but they had never told him what to do if the most important thing was highly ambiguous. So was the case with Dawnhaven. On one side there was no arguing about whether what had been achieved so far was impressive given the time taken or not -- it just was. On the other side Wenyr couldn't help but find the location far less preferable. Back home he could probably still have strolled around the growing winter crops with hardly more than a linen shirt for cover and here, he could already feel the first snow touching his skin. Casually, he brushed through his hair in order to get rid of any snowflakes that might already have accumulated there without him noticing.

It dawned upon the blacksmith what might be coming: First, the melting snow would soften the roads and passes and make them, well, less passable. Then, with some luck, things would freeze over at some point and become solid again. With bad luck however it would start snowing more and at least some of the mountain passes would need to be closed for the sake of not everyone needing a rescue.

Who would rescue his business then, though ? Usually, the heavier and more difficult to transport goods whose lack wouldn't leave anybody starving yet would be delayed first or at least so he expected. What would he have left to work with then but scrap metal and bare wood to make a fire ? And the entire settlement would be put to its first real test when conditions turned for the more harsh...

As Wenyr strolled around Dawnhaven's streets a bit aimlessly for the lack of better knowledge, he honestly contemplated about whether it would be better to try and open a workshop in spring, but -- what should he do until then ? Also the nobleman who effectively was his employer would likely not accept that kind of thinking. He had to get going no matter whether the sun was shining or not and for this he needed to know the place a lot better and probably also get some permits. Yes, permits! Wenyr silently, but no less truly assumed that a closer proximity to the kingdom of Lunaris did not necessarily correlate with a reduction in bureaucracy, or law and order as it was sometimes called slightly euphemistically as well.

Right now, the blacksmith was dressed in an attire a bit more suited for the low temperatures. A thick fur cloak made his shoulders look even more obscenely broad than they already were and he had put on the warmest piece of linen cloth he had been able to find in the mess that was his current 'home'. Wenyr had barely arrived a few days prior and his dwelling place equaled a chaotic looking heap of halfway opened, wooden crates with a large piece of fabric on wooden poles serving as a makeshift roof. A lot of work would be required, but for that he first needed to know where it was possible to deploy. And maybe he'd not ask the same people again to do him a favor and help lifting the damn anvil of the carriage. Their grudge against him would probably last longer than the various aches acquired in the process.

Squinting his eyes slightly, Wenyr deciphered the letters on a sign that gently waved in the wind: Eye Of The Beholder. The building looked as if being given priority in terms of construction effort, but if this was as much of an inn as it seemed to be, it was clear why. Who didn't need a warm place to stay ? And frankly so did he. It took a bit of courage to open the main hall's entrace for a dense crowd of people had never really appealed to Wenyr, but it was a small price he was more than willing to pay.

And just how little he knew the place still! From the many people now in his sight, he could hardly pick anybody he was already familiar with. Don't keep standing around like an idiot! Don't stare at everybody, especially not the women! Trying not to behave like a stalagmite that had just popped up out of nowhere and now blocked everybody's way, Wenyr stepped forward towards what looked like the bar. Maybe somebody would be able to give him some guidance there.

“And how are you, specifically, Eris?”

A shiver ran down Eris' spine as Pleiades gently touched her hair, the intensity of his full attention making her feel weak and vulnerable. She froze like a hare before a predator, cheeks already flushed from her earlier embarrassment in front of Sunni, her blue eyes now locked on the bird-like man before her. He was unlike anything she had ever encountered before and she found that fascinating, but terrifying too. He could be unpredictable, but the worst part was the type of blight-born he was. She had never come across his specific kind before, but she had heard the stories. Despite never imagining an attraction to a bird-like creature, Pleiades held a certain allure to him that tugged at her soul whenever he spoke and rested his gaze upon her. His presence alone seemed to cloud her mind, tantalizing her, and urging her logical thoughts to fade away for awhile. He was dangerous.

As Sunni grabbed her hand and forcibly pulled her away, Eris stumbled, caught off guard as she was ripped from her petrified trance. Looking down at their intertwined hands, her cheeks deepened to a crimson hue, but she willingly followed his lead without protest. She was grateful for Sunni, truly. Had she been alone with Pleiades, she wasn't sure what would have happened. She had been avoiding Pleiades this whole time for a reason. "I'm not cut out for this..." She thought, reminded of her brothers criticisms.

“Good morning,” Eris looked over her shoulder to find Elara, the beautiful Lunarian handmaiden who Eris admired for the confidence and positivity she often exuded. “It seems we're all quite busy today, already.”

Eris felt the pull from Sunni immediately stop just then, and her hand cast aside. She glanced over to Sunni, who now had his full attention on Elara. Feeling somewhat safe at a mild distance from Pleiades, Eris began to worry that Elara would get caught in his grasp instead and suffer some kind of consequence from the blight-born man. "Good Morning, Elara." Eris spoke softly, but had finally found her voice. "Sunni was just taking me to... uhm..." She paused, remembering what Sunni had said earlier about her requested order of Emberbloom. "Well... to his room." She realized how odd that sounded, but couldn't stop herself from saying it. "To- .. For an order! An order I had. Uh... would you care to join us?" Eris bit the inner corner of her lower lip, her brain begging for her mouth to stop speaking. It sounded odd.. but it was true! At least... she thought so.

---

_{Interactions: Sunni, Pleiades @The Savant, Elara @Qia}

“No stew for me, Syraeia, but thank you. Perhaps at a later time.” Flynn slightly bowed his head to her in gratitude for her service before returning his attention back to his wife as she directed Lord Coswain and his comrades. Flynn agreed with Octavia's assessment, Dawnhaven needed assistance in getting more buildings constructed quickly, especially before the harsh winter arrived. As they discussed matters, Flynn's gaze wandered curiously over to the tan woman who had pleasantly greeted the royal couple - Naz'Riani LaReina. Though they hadn't interacted much during their time in Dawnhaven thus far, Flynn knew of her renowned reputation for being a spectacular entertainer for the Lunarian royal family previously. He had considered seeing one of her shows here at the inn, but had not found the opportunity just yet. Honestly, it had been low on his list of priorities. However, observing Naz'Riani now, he couldn't help but notice the way she stared at Octavia. A hint of jealousy briefly flashed through him. He had seen that look in a women's eyes many times before. Intrigued, he arched a brow, suddenly more interested in learning more about the minstrel of Dawnhaven.

Redirecting his focus to his wife, Flynn smiled, satisfied with Octavia's choice and relieved that Lord Coswain did not oppose her suggestion. Could it be that the military unit had less sinister motives than Flynn initially suspected? Or perhaps they were still merely playing the political game of diplomacy for now. “Brilliant.” The Prince chimed in, stepping away from Syraeia and returning to Octavia's side. “Syraeia will get you taken care of here. Take the day to get settled and meet with me tomorrow. We will get you started with the construction tasks.” While Flynn wasn't well-versed in construction himself, he had been lending a hand with the manual labor of it all when he could. Fortunately, he had brought along a small group of carpenters and architects from Aurelia who were spearheading the operation, but there was only so much they could get done with so few hands.

“I'm afraid we must be on our way now.” Flynn announced, his gaze meeting Octavia's to silently inquire if she would accompany him out of the inn. Getting introduced to Lord Coswain had been beneficial, but they needed to continue their search for Sunni. As he turned towards the exit, Flynn spotted Dawnhaven's new blacksmith amidst the growing crowd. Though they had never met, Flynn recognized Wenyr instantly from the description provided by the noble benefactor who had recommended that Wenyr join them in Dawnhaven. “Ah, Wenyr. Good Morning,” Flynn greeted warmly as he approached the man, happy to see a fellow Aurelian. “I'm glad to see you made it.” He clasped Wenyr's shoulder, offering a light reassuring squeeze. “The Eye of the Beholder is a good place to acquaint yourself with everyone.” Flynn stepped back and made his way towards the door once more. “I will be sure to meet with you more formally soon. For now, please make yourself comfortable.”

Opening up the door, Flynn looked towards Octavia and held it open for her to step out into the village square. “Shall we?” He asked, calling back to their earlier private exchange where he had asked her to enter the tavern with him. As he waited for her response, his mind reminded him of the jealousy he had felt over her just moments before. It struck him as peculiar. Could he truly feel that way over her already? The only time he had felt that intense green rage rise up in his chest before was with his former lover, the woman he had believed he was going to marry before duty bound him to Octavia. It had only been two months, and Octavia had remained distant throughout, yet he clearly had a strong reaction at the mere thought that someone else might pose a threat to their marriage.

---

_{Interactions: Octavia @The Savant, Lord Coswain & Syraeia @PrinceAlexus, Wenyr @Fetzen
Mentions: Na'Ri @Girlie Go Boom}

Redacted

Redacted

A brown hand swiftly wiped at full lips. It was all she could do to stave off the squeal and absolute joy threatening to gush forth and out her mouth. The princess had acknowledged and addressed her personally.

Green eyes set ablaze, still she maintained her composure and held her gaze low. It took all her might yet she managed a polite nod in response rather than a fistpump and full on whoop of excitement. And in that moment she knew the exact lyrics to spout and enamour the lovely royal. They were the very one and same that she used when she performed for the royal and her family all those years ago. A lower lip she bit and nodded in affirmation; she would shoot her shot later at the best and most opportune time.

To Sy-a turned her milk chocolate cheek, concern and consternation furrowing her dark brow. Her singular eyed superior was putting Naz'Riani herself in charge of such important guests? And in a position better given to another more experienced server girl to boot. But Na'ri nodded with more and more confidence the more and more Sy-a discerned just who and what their guests were all about. Besides, the young woman did what she did best when she had to improvise. A small smile spurned from dusky lips when her boss mentioned higher salary rewards if a job well done was illicited. Green eyes glinted; it was not so much offer of more coin but the offer itself. Sy-a was a tightwad when it came to dishing out the monetary metals and such an offer meant that her boss, not only took her in and believed in her but she truly did value her.

The hug however was out of pocket and took the former criminal by surprise. Instinct definitely had to be suppressed and fast. In any other situation, surprising Na'ri with unwarranted physical contact, Na'ri would have slipped away and the diminutive innkeeper would have found herself flipped over, winded on the floor and on her back. But no, Na'ri accepted the hug and awkwardly hugged back, also giving the always just as awkward gentle pat upon the back of the hugger. "I will take very good care of the service area rest assured, matron."

A gracious nod she bestowed her boss as she watched Sy-a excuse herself and went about her business. Turning to Coswain and the rest of their party she nodded then stepped spryly, drab yet lively skirt flowing as she slinked towards them now.

In the gaze of a male, any male, being desired was key to being alluring. But to another female...? Of that she was uncertain, and yet her heart still yearned for such things and so a sideways glance she afforded the princess. Fire lit those eyes when they befell the royal's fine form and vivacious visage. A breathless smile; "Excuse me your highnesses. I must see to the other guests as directed. Again, such a pleasure of pleasures to have you here."

Oh she saw the look upon the prince's face and instantly she directed her eyes away from the royal couple. Heat radiated high up in her cheeks but still the show must go on, as they say. A polite bow and half-curtsey she donned the ruling power couple.

"Lord Coswain and knightly party, such an honour. My name is Na'Ri," a polite smile and nod she cast them. An arm she raised and held an open palm to direct their attention, "if you'd be so kind to head this way, you'll find a table of your liking I'm sure."

She sauntered behind them, hastily listing their requirements Sy-a had just as hastily listed out for her. As soon as they were seated, she placed both hands upon the table and leaned in. Not all of it spilled over but a generous milk chocolate sight was peeking out from the top of her blouse as intended, "A glass of our finest wines and 2 of our unfettered ales, says the matron? Coming right up. And as as for meals..."

Na'ri listed off the regular morning servings but took a big chance for a big payoff. The young woman had seen the ingredients and spices Cheffie had to work with. And knowing that the cook was just as creative as they were skilled, Na'Ri offered up last weeks big lunch special, "Yet if none of those sound appetizing for you, we can offer you another platter. Specialty of the house. It is a serving of heated salted meats, special house sauces, finely herbed oil breads and fire-grilled 'shrooms and root veggies straight from the soils of our lovely DawnHaven farms! It is a shared platter but it is a premium serving with a premium cost, but I can attest it is well worth the pleasure to eat and share such a meal?"

A affirming nod she cast them and with a giggle she rubbed her belly as if satisfied with her meal. "I shall give you some time to decide then and shall return with your drink orders."

Na'Ri waltzed away from the table and felt the heavy gaze of another following her movements, curves and all. A bit of a shiver rushed her spine. There was being admired and then there was leering; leers always made her shiver. Still a smile befell her lips and she turned to find herself staring not into the eyes of man holding up his hand to gain her attention. Of course they did not make eye contact; her eyes were up higher afterall. A hand she held to her chest to shield his gawking gaze and he finally met her green eyed one. Na'Ri nodded and strode over to he and his shadowy companion.

The hackles upon her neck reacted as if she was walking into an alley that was quiet. Too quiet. Still her resolve kept that pleasant smile perched upon her brown visage as she stepped spryly towards the waiting pair. Just then the door swung open. Draped in multitudes of furs, a lone man entered. He appeared as wide as the doorway itself she deemed, "Hail, sir and welcome to the Beholder! Please find an open table and make yourself comfortable. My name is Na'ri and I'll be with you in a heartbeat."

The momentary distraction allowed her heart to slow its racing beats as she felt wary approaching the pair. A full bodied turn to face them ending in a polite pose. An award winning smile she cast towards the pair, "Hail, honoured guests, my name is Na'Ri, how may I accomodate you?"

---

---

The prince! Of all individuals, Wenyr had deemed the odds of the royal couple in charge of this colony being here to be the lowest. Yet there Flynn was and Wenyr could steel feel the remnants of the man's reassuring squeeze on his shoulder. If only there would be a way to preserve it, just to make it a little easier for his mind to remember this nice little moment in life. Flynn's words echoed in his ears and made him happy, a meeting would be a good thing for multiple reasons.

The prince's footsteps had barely dissipated when another sound entered his ears. The far less pleasing, because kinda irritated if not outright angry voice of... Sunni ? Yeah, that had to be right. While still somewhat unfamiliar with the average person, the few days since Wenyr's arrival had been enough to at least get to know some of them and having some sort of connection with a merchant could only be a good thing. The tone didn't fit this time though, he had never witnessed Sunni in such an emotional state yet. Had his day not been so bright this time ? For a brief moment, Wenyr considered whether he should go upstairs where the voice had emanated from and have a look, but then he remembered one of his childhood friends who had reacted to this kind of approach not so well -- sometimes people just wanted to be alone no matter whether those coming did so for the sake of aiding or not. Not adhering to that kind of insight ? Dangerous territory!

Wenyr did not feel like stepping into dangerous territory right now. Trying to troubleshoot somebody else's problems from time to time was important to keep a community together, but not in such a forced manner. Also maybe it just wasn't as bad as it sounded ? There was more action going on upstairs and Wenyr remembered some young people who apparently were the merchant's assistants. Maybe it was them ?

"Lord Coswain and knightly party, such an honour. My name is Na'Ri,"

The girl's words made Wenyr turn his head almost in an instant. He had completely missed the fact that Lord Coswain was here as well ? What a shame... on himself! The blacksmith's eyes rested on the Lord just long enough to judge that the latter was busy and thus maybe might not have noticed him either. And if they had not been busy before, now they certainly where. From what Wenyr could hear over the general chatter from the patrons here, Na'ri not only whizzed around like a bee that'd been stung by three wasps at least, but also went pretty much all-in when it came to upselling her guests. Whether she would try the same on him ? Wenyr made a mental note of being cautious while his hand, half unconsciously, slipped into the depths of his pockets to check how much coin he had actually left to deal with such a vicious attack.

The table he choose was situated close to one of the main hall's corners. It was good to have a wall behind one's back even if just for the realm of subtle feelings in the back of one's head. Wenyr would have traded the wall for another chair at any time though for the one he sat down on creaked loudly as if very well outside its original design limits.