Sya again shook her head at the mention of tax man and gave an expression that was akin to someone tasting a warm beer left out in the sun. Not a problem right now, more it froze solid. “They might not be evil… I do like keeping my gold though, a woman likes a nice new dress.” Sya said with a grin like a dragon.

The man seemed to pause for a while and looked at the empty stage, the guards that had not moved or even seemed to blink. They were stoic as marble statues stood in ranks. He was a confusing one, he really confused Sya and however she could not stop but engage with this man. “Cat gold? What word is that? Why a cat?

Jesters joke gold? I know when gold is…off, gold is soft, fake will crack and not bend? Fakes are … dirty. Not clean?. Gold always cleans up like new.” Sya spoke partly looking away, she was not perfect but she had a common understanding, gold was soft, flexible, same with silver. Maybe it was not as good as his, but she could tell a fake most of the time. She was still learning unlike Sunni.

“The Prince? You .. I have not seen him wear a mask though… he is not like that weird Lord family who wears a full face helmet, permanently i think. He not Earl iron helm the 3rd?” Sya thought of one of the more eccentric Lords who got known for never removing a helmet. Sya took it a little too literally, she had an odd way of thinking and Sya was a little broken. sya was a little confused, she got most of it, half of it… not a full way. She was still learning to handle everything, everything was so much more complicated. ”He seems… he seems genuine. If he was not so, why would he build this town?” Sya said with a curious look, he had given her no reason to change her opinion on the Prince yet. Sya could see no bonus or gain to build a while then for no reason.

“You enjoy vexing everyone, if you do stay at an Inn, at least keep it after I wake up. A kissing booth, I think your silver tongue is better used than French.” Sya said easily. A kissing booth in town would be a rather odd addition to town, and he probably could annoy people more without one. Maybe he should…

“I quite prefer hands, Ten tacles might tickle a little when I want cuddles. Suckers are customers not for me.” Sya said with a laugh and a giggle. She was a little unstable, Blightborn. “Eye have plenty enough to handle. You are armed, handed and feeted.” Sya said with a pun and shamelessly bad joke. definitely shamelessly bad.

“I barely know you, you're quite a bold sir. I'd rather leave it for now, i'm having a good day. The springs were lovely.” She said with less of the puns and more of a sigh thinking of hot springs. “Anyway, I'm sure you love challenges. I cannot make mystery too easy or you be bored and i doubt you like being bored.” Sya said teasingly and with a random shift of emotions. Sya just shrugged and tried to break the topic.

“Your giving me a headache, keeping up. Im still.. lewrning anf getting used to be vaguely respectable memeber of society.” Sya said, closing her eye, trying to keep up and trying to catch up. He spoke like a wave and catching water in her hands.

“Well a sundial would be a bad investment. Besides, we could have those little mechanical moving things that dance or fight dragons on it. Or you chasing a cat and landing in a horse troth. Be fun.” Sya just said, a bell tower and clock would be handy, not everyone could use the differences in moon movement to tell the time and have the ability to see minute differences in the greys and blacks.

“Well I'm losing money, they are blocking the entry, and I cannot sell ale. I could have spent longer in the spring.” Sya said matter of fact, delays meant longer and might eat into the Lunch run. She liked the Prince but he was a little late and it might be more than a little by time they did all the fancy flourishes if they decided so. “I respect him but… you kinda worry less when you end up Emberkin. Things seem... different when you not even sure how your alive. ” Sya shrugged and looked about. where was her boss of sorts… Sunni left her a very much clear hand though in most things. He was late as the Prince!

“There once was a hero named Ragnar the Red,
Who came riding to Whiterun from ole Rorikstead!

And the braggart did swagger and brandish his blade,
As he told of bold battles and gold he had made!” Sya sang softly to herself, an old song as she waited, from a place called…White Run? Yeah, that was an old bard's song that seemed to get everywhere alongside another about a witcher and coins whatever that was… The bard was a annoying man who talked too much and got caught sleeping with Lord's daughter before he had to run out of town faster than the horses could chase him.

Mentions
@Dezuel

Time: Morning, Location: Town Square

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A small smile found its way on Cass's lips as Elara greeted her humorously. It had been about a year since she last had spoken to someone aside from Butternut and she was relieved that, so far, it seemed to be going well. She looked briefly around for the orange tabby, but caught no sight of him. Sure that he was hunting or crafting chaos for the joy of it, Cass returned he attention to the woman she had approached.

A royal announcement. Suddenly, living in the midst of royalty left Cassandra with an odd feeling. It wasn't reverence or distaste, it was something closer to bewilderment but not quite. Never before had she lived so close as this to any of her homeland's royal family. Having grown up in a village where any information coming from the capital was often outdated by arrival, one would nearly forget the royal family at times. Their lives had simply so rarely been affected by the goings on of the capital.

Cassandra's head drifted to a tilt, her glowing blue hair falling over her shoulder and creating an arroyo of soft light between the red mushrooms sprouting from there, "Is this common?" she asked, casting her red eye over the stage, the guards, the agitated crowd.

Guards--frightening creatures. She took refuge in knowing that blightborn had been invited to come to Dawnhaven, that these guards were not her hunters. She turned her eye back to Elara; silver hair like a waterfall, blue eyes like bright gemstones, and a level of magical ability she had not yet sensed before.The beast she had been for the last year demanded that she eat when food was plentiful. No longer could she be a hunter in the way she had grown used to; here it would be far too obvious that it was her and make a mess of her opportunities here. Cass would have to renew what she learned growing up and foraging to eat; take only what you need, leave something for later, to regrow--to feed you when you have even less. Cassandra would need also to learn how to do so with tact. Mushrooms and herbs hadn't been able to make accusations.

She could sense that there was plenty of magical energy in the town square, aside from Elara's. Scarcity would no longer be an issue. Cassandra would need to invent a way of getting close to these people so that her touch wouldn't raise suspicion. "Would you happen to know, if there might be need for a seamstress in town? She would have to come by materials, but she was skilled in the craft and fittings would give valuable openings.

---

Mentions/Interactions
Elara @Qia

Eris felt her cheeks warm as Ashe winked at her, a rush of heat that had nothing to do with the flames radiating off the blight-born standing next to her. Was that...flirting? Her heart skipped a beat as she considered the possibility. A flurry of thoughts rushed in, her mind jumping to wild conclusions. Could Ashe be one of those blight-born who fed off energy in...other ways? She’d heard about certain types, and the idea sent a shiver of fear down her spine. She forced herself to breathe, trying to hide the unease creeping up on her.

Her thoughts briefly flickered to Flynn. Had he known about this newcomer? She hadn’t seen any mention of an initial interview with Ashe, and it worried her. Usually, new arrivals were logged and examined by the Prince himself. She could not recall any of Flynn’s notes that mentioned anyone with Ashe’s peculiar features. Eris had never seen anyone quite like Ashe, nor had she seen a garment as mesmerizing as the one they now offered.

Her eyes traced over the shimmering coat, its threads glowing, radiating warmth that, oddly enough, didn’t scorch. It was beautiful. But Eris shook her head, raising her hand slightly as if to refuse. "Oh, I-...I couldn’t possibly," she stammered, glancing at Ashe with a mix of awe and reluctance. "It looks far too valuable. I wouldn’t want to take it from you."

Nonetheless, her curiosity was piqued. "Where did you even get something like this?" she asked, her voice soft with wonder as her gaze lingered on the fiery garment. "I’ve never seen anything like it. How is it that the magic sustains itself? Enchantment?" She marveled at the intricate threads of flame woven so delicately, the heat emanating from them constant, controlled, and yet... alive.

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_{Interactions: Ashe @Timemaster}

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" Ah, please forgive me if I’ve been too forward," Ashe said with a warm, flickering smile. "I merely made a jest to lighten the mood. I understand it can be a bit overwhelming to be near someone like me." as they said “lighten” their flames lit up for a brief second as if responding to their command.

Ashe took a moment to explain the garment’s nature, their hands gently tracing the coat’s intricate patterns as they spoke. "This coat," they continued, "is woven from threads of fire, each strand spun from my own flames. The heat you feel is part of their nature. It’s not magic but a physical manifestation of my gift. The flame threads are designed to provide warmth without burning—though it might seem counterintuitive seeing that this is fire, it’s all about balance and control."

Ashe’s hand moved gracefully, and with a focused effort, they plucked a strand of fire from their own form. The flame danced gently between their fingers, taking shape as they wove it into a delicate bracelet. The flame’s warmth was evident but not overwhelming.

"Here," Ashe said, extending the newly crafted bracelet toward Eris. "Consider this a gift, curiosity should always be rewarded. I hope it serves as a small comfort and as well, a sign of my appreciation for your bravery in talking with one of my kind. Also, please, wear the coat, the cold won’t affect me. I only wear it to show my future merchandise."

---

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_{Mentions: @The Muse's Eris}

Fiona Grear

Early to bed, early to rise. A fine sentiment when your commute to work was in the very town you resided. Less appealing when traveling incessantly, arriving late, then being expected to appear that same morning. Farmers prided themselves on their work ethic. Members of local militia needed to be ever ready, prepared to respond to any incident, any threat, with little to no notice.

Fiona needed to sleep for another five minutes.

Unfortunately, every other soul within Dawnhaven had missed that memo, and before she even had the hint of a spark of wanting to rise, sleep was stripped from her. Thrown to consciousness by the loud chatter nearby, Fiona pried herself from blankets and slumber, rising to aching feet and a full bladder; the former would resolve itself later, the latter was solved with a quick trip behind a tree. Shambling with all the liveliness of a recently buried corpse, she brushed down her tunic and trousers, shook out her aged, fraying black fur cloak, and strapped her longsword to her hip. Graceful as a swan, she hopped and hobbled, cursing under her breath as she fought to slip on her boots, narrowly avoiding going head over heels as she gave one boot a hard tug. Was she presentable? Her vivid red hair was a mess, and a quick glance in a bucket of water had her plucking small leaves from her locks. Using the same water, she splashed her face, gargled some, and promptly polished her shoes by spitting out all over them.

Not her most glorious start to a day, she'd admit.

In a world of potential heroes vying to save, well, the world, she didn't look the part. Her posture slumped, she trudges through the crowd, not at all envious or bitter of those more alert than her. Her clothing's rumpled, she's still yet to eat breakfast, and aside from her brief chat with... Someone the night before, she doesn't know anyone present whatsoever. A stranger in a new land. Or at least part of the land she'd never visited before. Were it not for the amassing of bodies by the vacant stage, there's a very good chance she might have wandered off in the complete wrong direction too. For once, she's thrilled to see so many people.

A sentiment that lasts about all of ten seconds. She grumbles excuses and apologies as she weaves through an amalgamation of bodies, nudging those who ignore her halfhearted calls to move aside. What she wouldn't give for another few moments rest. Where is she meant to stand? Should she be talking to someone? She could ask questions, she supposes, but questions mean she has to talk to someone, and she has to be awake for at least twenty minutes to engage in conversation. So, instead of doing the sensible thing, she meanders her way forward, wending through people until she's almost at the front of the collective. With all the fervor of a child taken to lecture, she puts one hand on her hip, the other rising to stifle, and failing to do so, a loud yawn. Blinking back tears and exhaustion, she runs fingers through her tangled hair, glancing around and hoping serendipitously for an explanation to fall into her lap. That, or for someone to accost her, which will at least wake her up a little.

Lysander walked into Dawnhaven with a sense of purpose, his violet eyes scanning the area briefly before he moved forward. His robe of deep purple linen flowed around him, falling gracefully to his heels, catching the light in a way that made it shimmer as though woven from the night sky itself. A silver necklace adorned his chest, bearing the unmistakable crescent moon of Seluna, a symbol of devotion that now carried far more weight than it had in his past.

He didn’t stop to take in the crowded town square where most of the townspeople had gathered, their attention focused elsewhere. His destination was clear—the Temple of Seluna.

He moved with purpose, his feet leading him to the waters that bordered the sacred space. The exterior of the temple was made out of dark wood, almost blending into the forest, save for the warm glow of lanterns. The cool air hummed with a sense of peace, and as Lysander crossed the narrow bridge toward the temple, his heart swelled with the conviction of his divine purpose.

The temple’s sanctum was quiet, save for a few faithful who lingered near the moon pool at the heart of the holy place. A large open dome above allowed the glow of the crescent moon to filter through, casting a soft light upon the waters. The woodwork was warm with carvings of the moon’s phases adorning the walls.

Lysander’s arrival was swift, his steps reverberating through the hollowed chamber as the few believers turned to look at him. His eyes shone with purpose, and without hesitation, he made his way toward the moon pool, its cool waters glistening in the moonlight. The believers stared, wide-eyed, as if they had been waiting for something, or someone or so Lysander believed. He raised his hands, his voice ringing through the silent space, pulling their attention to him with effortless charisma, priming his emotional control powers as he spoke.

"Rejoice, faithful of Seluna! For the time of darkness has passed, and the chosen of the Moon Goddess has arrived in your midst!" His voice, melodic and touched with an eerie resonance, filled the temple.

"Through her divine will, I have been sent to guide you, to lead you from despair. I am her vessel, her chosen. The one that will show you the gifts which Seluna bestows upon us all!" Lysander’s eyes gleamed with intensity as he continued, every word calculated to inspire devotion.

"Seluna has not forgotten you, her light shines upon us even in this dark time. Her grace will save us all."

The believers, though few in number, watched in awe, their murmurs rising as they processed the words of this self-proclaimed chosen. Lysander lowered his hands, letting the silence fill the air once again, his eyes scanning the room for signs of doubt or resistance. But for now, there was none. His arrival had sparked hope where there had been little, and that was all he needed to begin.

“Watch ya self. stead up, the Prince will be here when he is resdy.” Coswain remained static and moved his eyes and slight turn of head as the crowd milled about spotting a woman pushed by the crowd. moving a slow purposeful movement he gave the butt of the staff a sharp crack on a stone and a metal clad fist Into his chest plate to make them take notice.

He could be more active but remained passive and took advantage of the steel helmet and armour that made him an imposing statue of Steel plates, chainmail and hardened leather. The clear tone of command and ornate decoration of rank visible. “Make her some space. Make a hole.” He said naturally with a commanding calmness but also stern undertone. He did not shout, that would be a less effective tone, his voice carried easily.

Looking at a woman with darker hair, dressed in practical clothes and looked like she barely woke up, his “wife” was the same, she never slept well and always had nightmares, often holding her ever since the darkness fell. “Come to the side.. you hurt? Lord Castellan Coswain. Lunaris Royal Guard. Safer this way maam.” The guard remained at the stoic parade but softened his tone to a more personal one, politely diplomatic and introduced himself and made a short economical gesture to an area where people did not want to stray too close to the guard line's wing. it was not as busy as most thronged to the centre and stage.

Yes they had a … reputation but he was not a brute or a monster and chose to help the lady before harm came to her. The sword was definitely a military or less wholesome issue though, it was not fancy but long swords tend to not be carried by the civilian as a personal arm.

He looked about the milling crowd with economical movements barely of head and eyes, it was getting busy and pushing more as it waited and was debating various theories of the gathering. “Prince making an important announcement, should not be too long now.” He said, the person seemed less sure of why.

Coswain kept alert as he watched, hopefully the Prince came before things took any turns for worse. He was a veteran of many crowds and their fickle nature.

...

Persephone was shunted slightly as stood in the crowds, their was a foaming figure, others she not seen, a woman? Who seemed to be bio luminous. The in keeper was changing between annoyed, mischief, amusement, casual body language and more besides in the rapid change. She seemed to be holding her own though, Sya was it.. yeah, Sya she must be fairly able to manage her job at the Inn, even as a blightborn. Trust...no, blightborn where always a risk...but she seemed to be .. not a problem right now.

Spotting a silver haired woman talking to a bio luminous form, almost like a mushroom? Was that a form of mushroom? A living mushroom... what on the moon's glow was that.

The taller woman In a smart Lunariam uniform, her red hair with some greys
in it from age walked over to see a silver haird woman talking with the living mushroom and decided to say hello, she did not trust the blighrborn like any Lunarian... but she would approach and gauge the situation. You always learned, you did not learn without a few risks. "Hello, its all quite abit much, you'd think the band, Royal paladins and coach are coming." She spoke casually and approached, she yawned a little having not slept well, the dreams, visions and things had plagued her for months. Whatever it was the moon had caused them to be far more regular than any time in her life. "If I might say, If you wish to take up a trade, the Prince or Royal staff might help you find a place to set up as well as a grant of gold." She said diplomaticly even as her alarm bells rang from a blightborn. She just did not trust, seeing what feral ones had done... utter monsters. Dawn Haven did need more trades and the Prince had plenty of gold.

@Qia@GambolMuse@Lu

Fiona Grear

Fiona was not half asleep on her feet; to suggest such a thing would be a gross dereliction of duty. What duty, one might ask? She hadn't been given one, but surely being almost comatose would be frowned upon. Ever a 'half mug of ale' kind of girl, she preferred to look at herself as "half awake". Semantics at the end of the day, but those were for engineers to fuss over, not her.

With hope, the boisterous gentleman that approached her then wouldn't take offense to her languid demeanor. Eyes lidded, staring more through than at him, she likely didn't come across as keen on any speech. Indeed, she held a finger up, covered her mouth, then leaned back, spine popping audibly. With a slight shudder she rolled her shoulders and flashed a lazy smile. "I cannae admit I had a clue what this was for." Except she did know, she had likely been told prior to settling in for the night upon arrival. In one ear and out the other. Were someone to blow into the left, they'd likely hear a whistling from her right.

With all the fervor of a melting glacier, Fiona tried to make herself a bit more presentable. After all, the Prince himself was to appear! A fact that her sleep addled mind didn't quite appreciate, as evident by her casual pace. She tugged at her gloves, removing one to shake out... Was that a cricket? Her fingers combed through her hair again, catching on a knot which came free with a few muttered curses. Her clothes were... Fine. A bit dirty, clearly rumpled, and obviously not armor, something she could remedy later. After all, it wasn't as though a farmhand had much coinage to go around and buy suits of mail with. What little armor she had worn before as a militia member had been hand-me-down, shared between herself and two other people of similar build. Her clothing stank, probably, but at least it was her own stink she was smelling. While she was nose blind to it, other people around her were likely less fortunate.

Another yawn into her palm, a rub of the eyes. Fiona smacked her lips as she stood on one foot, scratching her calf with the other, then gave her head a shake. "Ah ken they've got ale somewhere..." she grumbled, smacking her cheeks audibly, then wriggling her nose. Would the guard-man-person know where she might find some? Would it be improper for her to drink while the Prince was in attendance? Even her limited courtly manners - she had none, told her that would be a poor showing.

"Bastarts... Not leaving anything out for us..."

Gadez Paladice

"Cats gold is what one calls fake gold. At a surface level they may look the same, but upon closer inspection only one shimmers as gold truly would. " Paladice explained calmly and in a matter of fact tone of voice. Taking abit of a breath and allowing himself a soft chuckle before contiuing.

"Not all masks are made of iron nor worn at masquerades. Some are able to don the mask of an honest smiling man, covering their true face beneath. But indeed you may be correct about the prince of gold. He may be genuine indeed." The blonde said, but in a reserved manner, there was alot more to it than that. But he didn't feel the desire to have Leela know that just yet. After all the game had barely begun.

"Dawnhaven however is not a creation of Flynn's making, neither is the union of the both heirs. The forementioned salvation. Two snakes are attempting to constrict this world, sinking their fangs in and applying their poison. I have a prophesy of my own. Here allow me to demonstrate..." The man lowered his voice, walking closer to Leela again, his eyes shimmering as a nearby torchlight reflected in it.

"The golden one shall lop off the head of the fire snake, karma shall burn the sinful creator. For the sake of those whose lives he oppressed and destroyed. Catalyst of the eclipse, let you be eclipsed in turn. Unmade by your rebellious sword." He snickered.

"But who would believe such a prophecy? Especially from one so vexing as myself, as you have so eloquently put it. A handy one aren't you? That bodes well for yourself and this place, my approach may be bold, but reckless it is not. As for having a silver tongue? I would rather boldly claim it is golden. Even if such more commonly be tied to those who prefer silence. Springs as in hot springs hm? Aurelia had plenty of those. Pleasant. Yet like drinks served at the inns, or the wonderous songs of a bard, such things can distance you from your surroundings and keep you from taking action. Think of all the people whose drowned their worries in drinks, and the few which instead decided to do something to change it. Rather than living under an illusion... yet it is a choice one has to make. As for mysteries and challenges, I neither seek them nor do I flee them. I however do deal with them if they happen upon my way. Rest assured you do not bore me, then again... very few actually does." He blew some air out of his mouth, the hot air mixing with the cool of the morning made it go up into mist.

"A sundial in our current situation would be very ironic. Afraid I am not the kind of man to give chase after cats though, I find it more that cats due to their curiousity find it in their liking to follow me. Though they've ought to be careful lest they'll be the ones going into the troth and get drenched." He snickered and observed the inn in the distance. "Ahh, the lack of alcohol will be good for them. Let them see things more clearly. No need for any regrets neither, for had you spent more time in said spring, we would not have met. You would have been far less vexed. But it is about time that I go and mingle with the rest, enjoy your day, Leela the beholder. We shall no doubt meet again." He gave a butlerlike bow towards Sya, there was a shimmer in his eye again and a smirk on his lips. He had enjoyed the conversation, as if he had feasted upon it. He joined her on following her song

"But the gold slipped out of his hand and fled the land! With philosopher desires set into stone, the man realized too late that he was alone. His maiden fled, upon an icy sled. True desire lost, blue fire frost, his desire and greed, to spread his evil seed. Plunged into the nearest gap, to make his trap…. golden prophecy, that defiling plea, he will meet his end at the fire land. The hand of halcyon define time to come, the gilded line will be realigned. The gleaming glee, shall soon be set free…" He sung softly until his voice couldn't be heard by Sya anymore as he walked into the rest of the people gathered, chuckling as he did, with his arms held out slightly as if he was a conductor.

@PrinceAlexus

Ayel Raunefeldt

Three carriages were going down the road towards Dawnhaven, their decoration was a stark contrast to the land around them. Packed to the brim with various items and furniture and building materials, the most fine of the carriages were the third one. The carriage much like the other ones was giving ample protection from the weather, at least if you were lucky enough to sit inside of it.

A small hatch opened up in the third and most grand of the carriages.

"Will you please drive more smoothly?! I am trying to concentrate here! Are we there yet?" An upset voice would be heard to the two men sitting at the elevated position at the outside of the carriage, the driver almost completely stopped the carriage at the volume of the voice, the other man next to him quickly leaned down to the hatch.

"My lord! Appologies! The road is very uneven here! We are approaching Dawnhaven in just abit!" The man replied in a reassuring and swift manner, he knew better than to make his employer wait. Knowing the man was someone of special temperament.

"You must take great care of my carriage, it is unlike the peasants irreplacable. There's a limited amount of these. And I happen to own the first and more foremost one. I will not have my carriage to topple over because of some peasant made road." The man inside of the carriage slammed the hatch shut even as the man outside was about to reply.

Ayel as the man was named calmly moved a lock of his hair away from his face. He has such troublesome hair. The man moved the curtains out of the way of the carriage window, sadly realizing that indeed. The sun had not the decency to return just yet. The man rolled his eyes and then lit the lantern inside of the carriage, before taking hold of his handmirror and looking into it. "Such a little bother you are." He said as he moved the lock out of his face and neatly combed it into place. He allowed an arrogant raise of his eyebrow upon seeing Dawnhaven out of his window. This was the place which he was going to make his great return to his rightful place. His father had completely screwed over his chances for dukehood by unceremoniously dying while falling off a horse.

It irked him. His father had taken the liberty to off himself while Ayel had been away from home, and then the title had befallen to someone else. It should have been his! He was the most intelligent, the most qualified, the most rich and flavoursome of all. This was an outrage. The man took a few moments to collect himself, recalling that expressing emotions would contribute to getting wrinkles. He couldn't afford that. Well technically he could, but he simply wouldn't allow his face to be compromised. He was intending on winning the contest of the most graceful Aurelian of the year.

Ayel reached for the small hatch again, yelling out to the two sitting outside.

"Faldrin!" His voice was clear and loud.

"Y-yes! Mylord!" The man straightened in his seat and the driver immediately stopped the carriage in about as much panic as he did in reaction.

Ayel almost got bumped into the expensive wooden decor. "You dimwit! Not that hard!" He yelled out in a reprimanding manner before adjusting himself in his seat and assuming a more smooth tone of voice. "Faldrin, it is truly beautiful." He began to say almost with a lack of breath, pulling his hair behind his one ear.

"It sure is mylord! Dawnhaven is quite the impressive place I must sa-" Faldrin started but got swiftly interupted.

"I am not talking about the mundane tax evasive village! I am talking about myself. Am I not beautiful? Do I not still contain the grace I held in my youth? Am I not shining as much as I did in the Sunfire Citadel?" Ayel said in an offended manner, his one eyebrow rising in an accusing manner. Faldrin knew this as a dangerous thing.

"Erm.. ofcourse mylord. You have not changed at all Marquess Raunefeldt!" Faldrin quickly explained to get the matter out of the way before his employer would have one of his special fits.

"Aha ha ha! Yes! I haven't changed at all have I? I still retain the same aura of majesty and allure. I could kiss myself, but what would all my admirers in the citadel think if I told them about having found true love?" He smiled to his own reflection in the mirror, using his tongue to polish his perfect teeth and making some smacking emotes with his lips, which had been previously given some high quality lotion.

"They would be devastated mylord…" Faldrin said as he felt the sweat starting to slide from his forehead, he had dodged getting another reprimand for now. This was surely a good sign.

"Well, since we have stopped I shall take the opportunity to- Wait is that a crowd out there? Ahh! I knew it! They've already heard of my arrival and have gathered to greet me. For being lousy and somewhat useless, these peasants have some employers who have class. Bring me my hat, the one with the big pink feather and the silk band with the inscription. I want to give them my best impression. Best impression? Faldrin, what is my best truly? I cannot quite decide. When you look at something that is perfect in all it's forms it gets so difficult. You have been trained for generations serving my family, you should be able to tell." The marquess raised his eyebrow of accusation, his eyes scanning Faldrin with judgement through the small hatch.

"You are all encompassing perfection mylord! There is none as whole as you!" Faldrin said and he nervously scratched his cheek.

"Hmph. Don't yell at me. I am not deaf. My hearing is very keen, you must learn to speak in a more soothing tone!" Ayel reprimanded and then looked at the carriage door. "Well? Get to it! My time is precious." He said in a slightly annoyed manner while Faldrin jumped down and hurriedly went to the door, opening it. Ayel looked down at the muddy and snowy road with disapproval, disgust starting to fill his face. "What are you waiting for? Get something for me to walk on! Get the stool." Ayel reached for his fan, which typically was carried with him by his belt, using it to wave his face despite there not being any heat to wave away.

"My.. lord.. the stool. I forgot to load it into the carriage, there wasn't enough space with all of the construction materials." Faldrin said in an appologetic tone and lowered his head and shoulders.

"Not enough space you say? Are you claiming it is somehow my fault Faldrin?" The marquess' face grew colder, his finely made boot placing itself on Faldrin's shoulder, pressing him down as he stood just below the carriage. "No mylord!" Faldrin replied and hunched down abit.

"Don't raise your voice at me! We shall have to improvise. You will take it's place. Now get on all fours." Ayel raised his head and nose towards the dark sky, he took a deep inhale and tried to make himself look as majestic as possible, as if the goddess Aelios herself were descending from the skies to the mortals.

Faldrin complied and stood on all fours in the muddy road as his employer used him as a stepping stone to get down.

"That'll do. Now go and get changed Faldrin, I will not permit any of my servants to be looking like that." He waved dismissively with his hand. "I will be waiting near the brainless blob. While you are at it, order the others to start working at my new temporary home and emporium. I expect it up and functioning today. Perhaps some noble will enlighten me of who is in charge of my welcoming committee or direct me to the prince? Don't worry your little head about me Faldrin, I am more than capable in all fields. Except the actual fields. That is for farmers." He laughed softly with a hand before his mouth.

She seemed… He was not even sure what was up, hung over, was she exhausted,either way she was running a few things short of a full deck of cards. Half the town probably was if he was honest, who ended up here? Dawn Haven was by far the weird end of the world. “Aye, Lass. Just wait, The Prince wants a whole show, the Prince gets what he wants. Just watch, clap, and so. Then get on woth your day.” Coswain dropped into a more Lunarian accent, with a less stone-like tone. Telling her to just go with the local flow, nothing more or less, the Prince chose, so the prince gets.

He said it as a matter of way, just go with the flow, let them have their chance and get on with your day. Easy. She did smell a little ripe, but discreet and chose his words with a little more care. “I'm told the bath house is relaxing, after a long journey.” He said with a soft hint, he had not paid it a visit yet and proffered a cold plunge but its close connection with the Auralia temple made him a little more uncomfortable. He would take Persephone, she was much better at religious people than he was. Oddly, it seemed popular with blightborns, some said, a temple… Coswain just rolled with the lunacy that was the modern era.

She grumbled about needing an ale, he resisted the urge to laugh and stayed solid and without acting on the feeling. She must be a little hung over! “Inn be closed. Be open about Lunch after this, the owner is here. Its behind the stage. you'll have to wait.” He kept an eye on the entire crowd, small movements panning and scanning people's reactions and mood. He spotted the small woman in the back, or thought he did, Sya..the feisty little woman, cursed By blight who ran the Inn.

“Dawn Haven is a new town, things are a little rough right now. You'll not find ale or food out. When the market and in reopen.” He said diplomatically, the town is new, the town had no real fancy luxuries yet. The roads were muddy, the buildings under construction, everything was being built up and established. Someone had a bath, Inn and temple's, but the rest was a WIP…even though the Inn was under construction, that tiny woman had big plans it seemed.

How Lunaris would react to this would be… unsure in fact. They were so far away from the Capitol, that influence was scarily thin unless they chose to Project it beyond the closer in territory. He hated himself for admitting but it seemed to work here, somehow this town had yet to burn itself down in blood and battle.

Somehow this place was … surviving and Maybe even prosperous. Prosperous despite the challenges.

@GambolMuse

Fiona Grear

Were she in better spirits or dire straits - her current problem being the distinct lack of liquor, Fiona might have made for a more jolly conversationalist. Instead, she squeezed her eyes closed and pinched the bridge of her nose with one hand, twirling the other at the wrist with a heavy sigh. "Aye, the Prince and his... Prince-liness. How could I forget..." It would be so much simpler if she were just there to be pointed at an enemy and gone into battle. As she would be, presumably, though not before an apparent clusterfuck of aspiring heroes and a likely long, patronizing speech from His Majesty.

Oh, they were all doing the realm a great service. They were all heroes whose sacrifices and efforts would be sang about for the ages.

Fiona couldn't care less about becoming some bard's topic right then and there. In lieu of alcohol, she wanted food. Since the markets were otherwise indisposed, like her better judgment and behavior, she groaned, lowering herself into a squat, sword scraping in the dirt as she rested her forehead against her knees.

"Right... New plan then. Save the bloody world so we can have a wee bit of food and a pint. Nothing is ever simple, innit?" Her stomach let out an unholy sound, something between a bubbling cauldron and a cat being drawn through a fishing net. Oddly specific, distinctly upsetting. Her face twisted into a grimace and she lifted her head, her face a faint pink, nowhere near the vibrant hue of her hair, but beginning to encroach upon it. "Wisnae reason ta wake up so early, was there? Bastarts said to get here here, yet the bloody Prince isn't even come yet. Fat lot of good this is doin' anyone..." With another groan she braced on her knees and stood, swaying slightly, then planting her back foot to keep upright. Shaking her head, she scrubbed at her face with her hands before glancing back at the guard-knight-guide turned twins. Seeing double was fine, probably. "Oi, can ye... Can ye..."

She swayed again, then gasped, clamping a hand over her mouth as her eyes shot open wide. "Oh shite... Tell the Prince to hurry, before I go paintin' the damn town..."

@PrinceAlexus

Ayel Raunefeldt

"Everyone calm down, you will all get a chance to look at me once I have gotten the direction to the stage!" Ayel spoke up in a loud tone as he used his sheathed sword to poke and try move people to make a path for him, he couldn't afford having any of these seemingly poor people come in contact with his radiant garments. "Out of the way mushroom. Relegate yourself to the back where peasants ought to be. You might infect those with far nobler blood with your pox. Go on, shoo, get out of the way. I have a speech to make. You there, wench get this abomination out of the way." The aurelian man took up his handmirror, the sheer panic that had filled him being in close proximity to blightborn and people of lower social rank was unnerving. The sooner he could get up on the stage which they surely had erected for him against the awful looking building. At least that was what he regarded it as. How could his coming mansion and emporium be neighbours to it? He felt a lump in his noble belly and throat as he dreaded the awful view that he would see every morning, when Faldrin would pull open the curtains to reveal this blight of a building. No this would absolutely not do.

A complaint would have to be made to the prince. Since his father was a reasonable man, according to Ayel, no doubt would it be a breeze to put in some alterations and extra rules.

Such as having none of those blightborn monstrocities be outside after 8pm. It didn't matter that the sun was temporary concealed, it was more about making a statement, to show all peasants who were in charge.

He soon felt another feeling, one of disgust as he realized the building was seemingly an inn or something like that. He didn't want to listen to loud drunk peasants, they should be like peasants, seen but not heard. But from a safe distance.

But the suggestion list he would make for the prince would have to wait, for now he had to settle the problem of there being alot of people blocking HIS path, to HIS stage.

The marquess allowed himself an eyeroll as he moved his bothersome lock from his face.

"You there, old guard! Come here and pave a way, I do not have all the time in the world you know? I am rich you know." He yelled over towards an older looking man in the distance. That older man being Adonis. He didn't recall the man, but then again... all guardsmen types looked the same, barbaric and brutish. Unlike his very own graceful glamour. But he couldn't help to feel a tinge of pleasure amidst it all, for without people, ugly poor people, they wouldn't be able to see the vast difference between them and himself. How he peaked above them like a mountain overlooking a swamp.

The very comparison made him feel a surge in mood, despite having to wait while standing. How he hated that. He wasn't some lowborn guardsman with nothing better to do than guard a door. His noble body was made for sitting down, preferably on a thronelike seat, and high up to have an elevated view.

Then he felt it. The smell of... farmers. How he hated that smell. It reminded him of them having the audacity to glare at him when he would change the deal so he could earn more by selling their crops, while making sure they would be the eternal workers.

The aurelian man took out a finely brocaded silk napkin and brought it to his nose and mouth, wrinkling his nose and furrowing his eyebrows momentarily. His eyes settling on Fiona, he believed he had found the source of his ills.

It was at that moment he realized he had let these ill-minded people to affect him, he recoiled mentally in horror as he thought that his facial expression may contribute to wrinkles later down his noble life. This he would NOT allow.

@GambolMuse@PrinceAlexus@Qia@Lu

Fiona Grear

The amount of effort to compose herself should warrant commendation. Nevermind that being hungover at 10am on perhaps the most important day of her life was unbecoming; Fiona had mustered herself enough to be presentable. Ish. Surely, that deserved some recognition. Or at the very least a pat on the back. Then again, given the roiling in her stomach... Maybe even that would be too much.

Hiccupping, gulping, she staved off the worst of it. With one small shudder and a grimace she righted herself, swiping a bit of sweat from her brow across her sleeve. If nothing else, at least this meeting would be brief, surely. Lecture? Pep-talk? She didn't know the nature of the meeting, come to think of it. Or perhaps she did.

... Where was she again?

Listless musings were interrupted by a peacock in human skin strutting in. His words were garbled, he reeked, or maybe she did. Squinting against the light, she gave the man a once over, sniffing. Impressed? Hardly? Annoyed? Most definitely. Oh, she knew his type alright; the sort to act like they owned the place, no matter where they were. Looking down their noses at everyone else, expecting people to grovel in their mere presence. Had he a mug of ale to offer, Fiona might have groveled, but he was empty handed, and she didn't. Instead, the perfectly polite, even-keeled woman that she was, she took a few unsteady steps towards the prissy patrician, wrinkling her nose as her nostrils were assaulted by whatever overbearing perfume the man wore. Another once over, another sniff, and an unsteady hand raised, wavering inches from his face.

"You... I..." A hiccup. "I... I know you... Ya painted fanny... Watcha thinkin', comin' here like... Like you owns us... I ought to... Oughta..." Another hiccup, and Fiona recoiled as though struck. A grimace flashed across her face, her complexion tinged with green, and she gulped, pitching forward and groaning as she raised her fists barely high enough to reach her chest. "Fuckin' mon' then, ya wee dick... I'll... I'll do ya..."

She meant in a fight. Surely.

@Dezuel

Coswain knew his day would be busy when it started, crowd control work was always busy… he looked down at the woman who was … well he held his stoic look but internally laughed at some of her comments. A pint and a meal were what most folk wanted, not a long fancy speech and who could say they were wrong, really they had simple Aims and simple ways to solve them, nothing wrong with that.

“Royals always arrive on time so they say, we just arrive early, you'll get your meal and a pint at launch. Sya serves a decent meal, get used to blightborn, its life here.” Coswain said with a calm tone, he was used to this, keep calm, keep order, do not let them think you're able to be goded. People love a reaction. Then she did look sick, someone was gonna end up in the splash zone, he wss about to tackle that matter before a Voice called for him and he ground his teeth, fucking Nobles…

He had to deal with this. “Follow me, we better sort this.” Grabbing whoever was available, a Lunarian guard and a Auralian Sgt who gave nod and followed, the 3 guards headed over to the man, they did not need more chaos.

Persephone gave him a glare and looked Over at a rather well dressed man, but reaked of nobility and being so far up his own ego he not even see the ground below his feet. “Watch yourself you peacock” She called out watching her “husband” begin to walk over, gathering a few soldiers with him. “Your mistake.” She said, this was Princes town, not this nobles.

“No, I do not. And I am infact Lord Castellan Coswan, of the Lunaris Royal Guard, Capitaline Lance Veteran Company.” He said speaking calmly as he lifted his visor and looked at the man. “Not Guard”

“would you also leave my wife alone, before I take offense.” He said firmly, he saw a rapier on the man's hip but it would do frak all to plate armour and a war sword. Looking at Persephone whom he checked she was OK and got a nod but kept his hands ready on the stave in his hands held vertically.

He saw the woman come up, the one with the sword and a bad stomach, well not his fault if anything happened was it? He was not the one who could change if someone felt ill or not.

He automatically out a arm out to stop a fight and a Gauntlet clad hand on her shoulder. “Peace Lass, I got this, sat down, their seems to be some chairs on the corner., Seph would you help her.” He said more kindly and looked to Persephone to help her over if she allowed. “ I'm Persephone Coswain, you look like you could need a sit down, and some water.” She said with softer tone than her formal unform belied, and a look of concern.

“You reconise him?” He asked the the guard, technically the Auralia Sgt did not answer to him but mutual agreement won out. “Not this one, new to town.” and the Lunarian guard nodded with the statement. “No sir, his Carriages are parked in the way too. Blocking an exit incase of fire..”

“You Sir wait with everyone else, the Prince not be long, then you have have your waggons more appropriately parked up. Unless I'm told otherwise, you wait with the rest of us, unless you want me to put you into the good Sgts temporary custody for disturbing the peace.” He said with a slight grin, he had no official name, or title. He was yet to be confirmed thus was just an overly egocentric trouble maker.

“Oh…is there a parking fine…oops.. knight, please write him up for 3 counts of blocking exit incase of fires…” He said and both Lunarian guards shared a smile.

"Aye Sir, il check his load for contraband... very carefully." The guard said, they would use everything they had to cause this fop a headache, oh they could make one fine into like 12.

"Oops, what is minor assult..." Persephone asked innocently joining in the legal way to vex this man into next week with summons to the Royal Hall.

Mention.
@GambolMuse@Dezuel@Qia@Lu

"Made by your own flames?” Eris echoed, her blue eyes wide with wonder. A glimmer of hope flickered within her as she considered the implications. Perhaps Dawnhaven wasn’t doomed to suffer through the harsh winter after all.

Her eyes scanned the coat curiously before flicking upward to meet the blight-born’s molten gaze. "That’s…incredible.” She smiled up at him, curiosity momentarily easing the wariness coiled in her chest. Although their fiery form was rather terrifying, their demeanor spoke of calm control, a creature of immense power who did not want to wield it recklessly.

As Ashe began weaving flames in their hands, Eris stood transfixed, her breath catching in her throat as she observed his craft. The spectacle of living fire being shaped so effortlessly stirred excitement within her, her eyes glittering like stars reflecting off water. When they held out a flaming bracelet, offering it to her, she blinked in surprise, her lips parting in awe.

She carefully looked over the bracelet, its flames flickering back and forth in the breeze just like any man-made fire would. Slowly, she extended her hand, hesitating just above the flickering flames. She could feel the heat resonating off the bracelet but it did not sear—no pain, no burn. She shot a cautious glance at Ashe, half-expecting them to be playing a trick. Would it truly be safe to touch? Or was this all just a jest? With a deep breath, Eris let her fingers dip into the flame, marveling at the sensation. The warmth remained, yet the fire did not scald. With careful apprehension, she took the bracelet, twisting it in her palm to examine every intricate, fiery detail. “Absolutely brilliant…” she murmured under her breath, mostly talking to herself at this point.

Slipping the bracelet around her wrist, she held out her hand and admired how it looked as the flames danced softly along her skin. The warmth spread across hand and crept up her forearm, fighting off the encroaching cold. Never in her life had she seen such a unique article before—the noble women of Aurelia would have killed to get their hands on such an accessory! Eris grinned at the thought, imagining the envy in their eyes. For once, she would have been the object of their jealousy.

“Thank you. This is… far too kind of you.” She said, meeting his gaze for a brief moment before turning her attention to the coat they offered once more. It was still hard to believe such a thing existed—wearable fire, as if it were fabric. Reaching out, she touched it cautiously, expecting it to burn her fingers, but again, it only radiated warmth. “You’re sure?” she asked, her voice tinged with confusion. Generosity like this from a blight-born? It felt too good to be true. She couldn’t help but wonder if there was some hidden motive, a ploy, something lurking beneath their kindness. Were there truly blight-born who could be so nice?

Slowly, she took the coat from Ashe and wrapped herself in it, clasping it around her shoulders. She smiled, appreciating the coat as it enveloped her in its warm embrace. She grabbed the edges and pulled it closer to her, creating a make-shift cocoon around her tiny frame. “You know, you could make a fortune selling these in Aurelia,” she half-joked, though she meant every word. Ashe could rise to noble status in mere days if they so desired.

Suddenly, the thought of Aurelia reminded Eris of her manners—or lack thereof. “Oh!” Eris met Ashe’s gaze again, panic flashing across her face as she released the coat and extended her bracelleted hand to him for a handshake, momentarily forgetting that they were made of flame itself. “I forgot to introduce myself! I’m Eris. Lead Sage here in Dawnhaven. I’m so sorry, that was terribly rude of me.” She fumbled slightly, her cheeks flushing deeper—this time, not from Ashe’s warmth, but from her own embarrassment.

---

_{Interactions: Ashe @Timemaster}

Ayel Raunefeldt

"Watch your tone old crone!" Ayel hissed harshly to Persephone, how dared she refer to him as a peacock, even if a peacock was a pretty thing, he was clearly leagues above it.

"So you are indeed a guard. A mere castellan which has no authority outside the castle. Even a royal guard is still a guard."

His eyes narrowed at Coswain.

"Sir? I am the Marquess of Aurelias border region closest to Dawnhaven, I am Marquess Ayel Raunefeldt, son to the late Duke Raunefeldt. My belt buttons up over several other duties far exceeding you, Castellan Coswain. I am the grandmaster of the Aurelius emporium, a famous high quality merchant enterprise. I am also a childhood friend to his royal highness Crown Prince Flynn Astaros. Your brutish ruffians will not touch my carriages, or I'll have you and everyone starve this coming winter. I am in charge of the supplies coming to Dawnhaven from Aurelia. And if you are so concerned with fire, arrest that walking fire hazard over there." Ayel pointed accusingly and in a very irritated way towards Ashe in the distance.

"Or this drunkard serf which has threatened to do physical harm to me! Do your work guard, or do you turn a blind eye? Some guard you are! If your lack of manners were not enough to begin with! Now you greybearded rapscallion, you will get on your knees and profoundingly appologize for your misconduct! Or I swear by Aelios, and his royal highness Crown Prince Astaros, I shall have you publically whipped for your breach of protocol. Kneel and beg for forgiveness and it shall be given, I am a merciful man." Ayel said in a smug, condescending and manner which oozed of superiority. He knew that his wealth and title was making him practically untouchable. Unless someone would outrank him. The very idea made him feel sick. This bearded older man was everything wrong in the world, he was one of those reasons young and perfect rulers would be murdered by a group of angry peasants. But then again, what could he expect from some brutish northern barbarians.

Ayel held out his sheathed sword, using it as a thing to point with.

"On your knees!" He hissed, clearly agitated. "You don't wish to make more of a scene and make things worse for your princess do you? My prince will not allow you to publically upset this arrangement. Not to mention his Royal majesty the king of Aurelia and all the areas which encompass it!" The sadistic marquess pointed to the muddy ground, beckoning for Coswain to kneel before him and appologize.

@GambolMuse@PrinceAlexus

---

---

Ashe’s gaze softened, a kind smile crossing their lips as they responded to Eris’s echo of their words. "Made by my own flames, yes. Woven from the fire itself." They nodded slightly, feeling a flicker of satisfaction at her wonder.

Watching her take the bracelet, Ashe couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride. It was a moment familiar to any artisan—seeing their creation admired and appreciated. Their smile widened, and a glint of happiness danced in their molten eyes as Eris carefully examined the fiery accessory.

As she marvelled at the bracelet, Ashe tilted their head slightly, their expression thoughtful. "I must admit, it’s not entirely kindness at play here," they began, their voice warm but sincere.

"On one hand, I want to reward your bravery as I said. Most people wouldn’t come this close to me for obvious reasons. But on the other hand... I’m new to Dawnhaven. I need people wearing my creations, spreading the word. It’s good for business." Their smile softened as they reassured her, "But yes, I’m sure. Consider it my first ‘investment’ in this town."

At Eris’s remark about making a fortune in Aurelia, Ashe chuckled, the sound deep and rich like logs cracking in a fire. "Ah, I used to make a fortune long before I was reborn as a Blight-born. My craft was well-known back then, and it will be again, that’s for sure." They nodded, a confident spark lighting their eyes. "One day, people from Aurelia will come all the way to Dawnhaven to buy from me."

When Eris suddenly realised her lack of introduction, Ashe gave her a kind, understanding bow. "It’s a pleasure to meet you, Eris, Lead Sage of Dawnhaven." They straightened up with a welcoming smile. "Once my shop is set up, I think you and I will need to have a chat. I have a few questions about your work, and no doubt some things I’ll need answers for."

---

---

_{Mentions: @The Muse's Eris}

Fiona Grear

"I didn't threaten no one... I just... Threatened you." Did Fiona wink, or were her eyes blinking slowly, out of sync? Hard to say. Somehow, impossibly, she appeared to be getting worse as the morning wore on. Swiping her hand across her nose, she narrowed her glassy eyes, focusing on the three haughty noblemen stood before her. She could still take them! Three on one weren't impossible odds, and she doubted this... Sir Axel or whatever his name was could cut with a blade as well as he did his words.

She could tolerate being called a serf. She could even put up with having someone look down on her. Something about listening to Ayel treat Coswain like a lowly guard irked her though. It wasn't her battle to fight, surely the man could handle himself, but between a lack of booze and a growing throb behind her eyes, Fiona was rather short on tolerance.

"Oi! Listen here, you windbag! You... You gobsmackin', struttin', posturin', dick-waggin' good for nothin' piece of... Of shite..." A hiccup, slightly higher pitched, making Fiona jump a little. She shook her head and wagged her finger again at Ayel. "Ye cannae come 'ere and start treatin' people like your attitude; shite. Maybe you ought to get on yer knees instead and apologize, 'fore I lamp ya in the knob, ya daft weely-paller!" Maybe she'd try anyways. After all, nothing sobered her up quite like a good old fashioned brawl! Well, there was food and water, and just not drinking, but the first two were out of reach, and the latter was just unconscionable. Fiona sneered, cocked her fist back, wobbled on her back foot, and threw a punch.

Her imbalance and her own miscalculation sent her spinning around, carried by her own momentum. Her feet slipped out from under her and she ended up sprawled out on her back, groaning as she stared up at the spinning sky. "Trippin' me now, ya bastart? I'll get you for that... Soon as I get my arse up..."

@Dezuel@PrinceAlexus