[center][h1][color=lightblue]Galahad Caradoc[/color]
[color=d3d3d3]Eve "Grayscale"[/color][/h1]
[/center][hr]
It was rare Galahad found a moment to himself, and on a ship like this, quiet moments were far and few between. It was a stroke of pure luck that Galahad had managed to find an unused cabin for him to stow away from the hustle and bustle of ship life for a moment. He occupied his peace with weapons and armor maintenance. Their journey across Osprey had given him little chance too, and the last thing Galahad wanted or needed was to be walking through the groves of Drana Asnaeu with sand in his joints. The past three hours saw his armor laid in organized rows on a wide cloth before him, each piece individually cleaned and shined back to their original brilliance. 

He'd moved on now to his halberd, a whetstone slowly and methodically grinding across its recently polished surface. It had grown dull and bloody during their adventures in Osprey, but now, once again Galahad could see his reflection on the blade. He hummed a soft tune as he worked, pausing only to press his thumb against the edge every so often.

While someone like Esben or Miina might be adept at avoiding attention even when battle was adjoined, there was a Kirin whose propensity for 'stealth' only lasted until she executed an offensive maneuver, a walking contrast between an unassuming petite figure clad in muted colors and an avatar of elemental catastrophe, and this someone was currently peeking her head through a tiny gap on the door leading into Galahad's cabin, unblinkingly staring with expressionless crimson irises. As for anyone who just so happened to be traversing the corridor just outside, they'd see an albino girl with strange horns and scales, slightly bent over, exhibiting the image of a voyeur.

Eventually however, all good things must come to an end as the dragoon would notice her presence eventually. However, regardless of his immediate reaction, Eve took it as a sign to transition into the next phase of her 'scouting mission'. Thus, still with her head and body remaining where they were, Eve opened her lips, [color=d3d3d3][b]"How many dragons have you slain with that?"[/b][/color]

If it weren't for the fact that Galahad's thumb was currently on the edge of his axe, he might've looked up with a start, instead his eyes merely flickered up towards the open door, the pale haired pseudolon easily catching his notice despite her minimal appearance. 

[color=lightblue]”Twelve.”[/color] Galahad answered, his voice even and plain, without the need to exaggerate his achievements. His eyes flickered over to the sash laying in a neat bundle by the armor. While the royal blue and gold Edreni sash might not have appeared to be a very protective garment on its own, now that it was no longer on his person, the miniature dragon could see a collection of dragon scales embedded onto the inner side. The scales were of myriad colors, each taken from a dragon on one of the dragoon’s hunts. [color=lightblue]”Three on my own, nine as a part of a hunting party.”[/color] 

Taking the halberd and setting it down neatly at his feet, Galahad turned to give the black mage his attention. [color=lightblue]”Any particular reason for the curiosity?”[/color]

[color=d3d3d3][b]"Twelve..."[/b][/color] Eve muttered under her breathless breath as her eyes followed Galahad's gaze this time, looking over the myriad of scales laid over the regal garment. Those were properly-sized draconic plates, coming from true dragons, unlike the tiny ones Eve exhibited on parts of her body. Upon the dragoon's inquiry, the dragoness didn't respond immediately, instead making herself at home in the cabin via slipping through the tiny gap.

The black mage wasted no time to saunter over, her boots carrying soft pitter-patters almost as if she was somewhere between walking and floating, then once she was beside the exiled Caradoc proper, she'd examine the trophies closer, but not reaching out to touch them… yet. 

[color=d3d3d3][b]"When I passed by this cabin, I noticed a glint, and that roused my curiosity."[/b][/color] Eve made her usual "boring", yet practical explanation, there really were no bells and whistles here, she didn't even know who was inside before she decided to snoop. [i]However[/i], now that they were here, she had to admit that she'd regret not checking it out.

[color=d3d3d3][b]"What was it like?"[/b][/color] The false-dragon inquired softly, glancing away from the dozen of scales to the dragonslayer himself, [color=d3d3d3][b]"Your very first hunt."[/b][/color]

[color=lightblue]”Terrifying.”[/color] Galahad admitted candidly. He had no idea if the pseudolon could detect lies, but something about the blank stare made him feel as though the embellishments that most soldiers and hunters added to their stories could easily be sifted from the truth, so he didn't bother. [color=lightblue]”And an accident.”[/color] 

[color=lightblue]”I was perhaps only a week or two past my seventeenth birthday. We'd heard reports about a young blue dragon roosting too close to the city, so the dragoons organized a party to find and kill it.”[/color] He recanted, flipping over the sash and lightly tapping at a scale at the ‘top’ of the sash, a clear, almost gleaming pale blue scale about the size of a palm, smaller ones surrounding it. The scale itself was identical in color to the steel and scales that made up the rest of his actual armor. [color=lightblue]”I was part of a scouting team of other fellow trainees, we were supposed to find the nest and report back so the dragoons could hunt it with one or two chosen trainees.”[/color]

[color=lightblue]”I got lost.”[/color] Galahad scoffed, [color=lightblue]”By the time I'd gotten my bearings, I'd accidentally stumbled into the nest itself. I thought to leave and tell the senior dragoons where I'd found it, but the dragon returned before I could slip away. She wasn't a young dragon like the reports had said, but a fully grown adult. At that point, it was either fight or die.”[/color]

[color=lightblue]”So I chose to fight.”[/color] Galahad shrugged, [color=lightblue]”I'd never fought so hard in my life. It was terrifying– we're supposed to fight the adults in groups of three or more and I was alone. I thought I was going to die. She was faster than anything I'd ever seen, and I'd yet to master jumping. Breathed bolts of lightning to maim and static to slow. By the end of it, I'd broken two ribs and almost lost my arm– a bad concussion too, I couldn't remember how I'd gotten there, and to this day I still don't remember some moments of the fight. But she was dead, and I wasn't.[/color]

[color=lightblue]”Thus is the story of the youngest Dragoon in Edren's recorded history.”[/color] Galahad said with a dry, practically mocking tone, [color=lightblue]“Though the stories like to make it seem more gallant than it actually was.”[/color]

Perhaps Galahad recognized the irony of speaking to a dragon girl-pseudolon about slaying dragons, but the girl had asked, so he had told.

[color=d3d3d3][b]"..."[/b][/color] Eve listened to the legendary dragonslayer's tale from beginning to end with nary a pause, nor interruption. Though her perpetually unblinking stare and lack of breathing movements might be unnerving to some, like being leered at by a living statue, one would have this feeling that the gray-haired girl [i]was[/i] listening. After all, as an ageless entity, she had all the time in the world. 

[color=d3d3d3][b]"It's still a story worthy to be told, true accounts of a warrior's exploits, not mere embellished myths."[/b][/color] Eve concluded after he finished, she really did enjoy it. Sure, it could've ended on a far more bitter note, but it didn't and this opportunity to reminisce about one's triumphant struggle must not be taken for granted. 

The Pseudolon shifted her gaze to one of the twelve scales, specifically one bearing a grayish hue, akin to the color of ash. Eve dared herself to pick it up then held it near her other hand. The colors, they matched, if she was the size of a dragon, then her scales would be exactly like this one. This made her wonder, if Dr. Eve had failed to release her and Valheim finished their project, would she be sent to hunt the Kirins? In this hypothetical scenario, would Galahad strike her down just as he did to this gray-scaled dragon?

Of course he would, as she'd be their enemy, he'd only be defending himself and his comrades.

However, it somehow still felt... disheartening.

[color=d3d3d3][b]"Threats to one's home and loved ones must be eliminated, no matter if they're Dragons, Sollans, Fayes, or any other species, it matters not what they are."[/b][/color] Was Eve saying this to Galahad or herself? Regardless, she continued, [color=d3d3d3][b]"However, the same is also true for comrades. No matter what kind they belong to, if they trust you and you trust them, that should be enough."[/b][/color] She nodded sagely while her hand gently returned the gray scale back to where it was.

The black mage then turned to peer at the azure dragoon right in the eyes; deep, crimson reds against cool, icy blues, [color=d3d3d3][b]"So rest assured, dragonslayer, I wish for nothing more than to see Valheim burn so this blighted world may heal, and anyone who dare to hinder us shall suffer my fury."[/b][/color]

[color=lightblue]”See, when you say it like that it sounds like a threat.”[/color] Galahad sighed tiredly as he picked his axe back up. Moments later, the slow, methodical sound of whetstone scraping against steel began to echo once more. [color=lightblue]”Much like you, not everything is so black and white. Ciradyl, for example. She turned on us in the last moment. To be frank, I do not trust her. Should she die for that? Or what of Rudolf? With his odd, dark display? I get a feeling that he's perhaps not telling me everything. Should he burn as well? Or what of me? My father has disowned me for not killing Izayoi, one of the largest threats to my home in history. Instead I walk side by side with her. Should I die for that?”

“My point is, even outside of Valheimr, we may run into those who disagree with us or our methods. It's certainly frustrating, but If we burn anything and everyone that may not be in lock-step with our goals, there may not be much of a world left after we save it.”[/color]

[color=d3d3d3][b]"..."[/b][/color] Not him too, what's with these Kirins and their lack of conviction? She could understand the dilemma with Ciradyl and Rudolf, but Valheim was the [i]enemy[/i], there should be no quarter given to those who wished to end the world and anyone who served them! There should-...

[color=B2FFC4][i]”I have to wonder if that would be honoring your mother’s wishes, to exterminate all the others like you. It would be a different matter if they were mindless weapons capable of nothing but mass destruction.”[/i][/color] 

Should-...

[color=B2FFC4][i]”Are you such an exception that giving such mercy to the others is unthinkable? If so, I am grateful for the circumstances that brought you here.”[/i][/color]

Galahad's mention of the Faye Bard brought her words to the forefront of Eve's mind, especially the last things she said before the Pseudolon just up and left their lunch. [color=d3d3d3][b]"Nnngh..."[/b][/color] She gritted her teeth with a low growl. It was quite palpable that she [i]wanted[/i] to disagree with Galahad, but she... couldn't, just like that moment with Ciradyl, she just couldn't, at least not in good faith, and Eve was nothing but a terrible liar.

[color=d3d3d3][b]"T-... rrrgh..."[/b][/color] Eve pursed her lips with a frown, then turned slightly to the side as she broke eye contact, crossing her arms across her chest, [color=d3d3d3][b]"F-... fine, not all those who slighted against us deserve death..."[/b][/color]

[color=lightblue]”Well, we’re getting somewhere at least.”[/color]

[color=lightblue]”Though, I'll grant you, at least in the case of the Valheimr and their soldiers, things [I]do[/i] appear to be mostly black and white. Unless we chance upon yet another friendly pseudolon, it's a pretty safe bet that any Valheimr we come across probably needs to die.”[/color] Galahad snorted, he was aware Eve was not [i]actually[/i] a youngling, despite her looks, but moments like this definitely sold the idea. It was almost an idyllic way of looking at things- simple was easier to understand.

[color=d3d3d3][b]"Nnn..."[/b][/color] In other circumstances, she'd immediately agree with the Dragoon that [i]everyone[/i] from Valheim should be spared no quarter, they were all as malignant as the blight they unleashed, putting them out of their misery would always be the best option, and yet... after the talk with Ciradyl, she came to have these frustrating thoughts of empathy and compassion, of other Pseudolons with similar yet less fortunate fates than her, and not to mention, wasn't Dr. Eve a Valheimr as well...? Aaaargh! Why couldn't things stay simple?

[color=lightblue]”I’m aware of your circumstances, Eve- or some of them anyway.”[/color] Galahad remarked, his tone calming and even. [color=lightblue]”You’re powerful and you’re useful in our fight.[/color]

[color=d3d3d3][b]"... … …"[/b][/color]

[color=lightblue]”But if all I needed was a weapon, I’d have gone to a blacksmith.”[/color]

[color=d3d3d3][i]He's right.[/i][/color] 

Just as he mentioned, a mindset like that was what Valheim would want from her; an intelligent yet blindly loyal attack dog, no, she would [i]not[/i] give them the satisfaction. If it was her 'nature' to always consider murder as the primary solution to their problems, then she'd fight against it. Valheim might have created her, but they'd not rule over her. 

Grabbing the sash, Galahad picked out the blue scale that matched his armor, the stitching tearing as he fished it out with some effort. [color=lightblue]”Dragons, for all their majesty, overwhelming strength, and speed, are little more than beasts- single minded monsters.”[/color] Hard as steel and light as mithral, Galahad flipped the broad scale in his hands a few times, admiring the luster for a moment before he casually tossed it to the Pseudolon. [color=lightblue]”That’s why I win when I fight them.”[/color]

Eve's red eyes widened in unexpected surprise as the Edrenian Sollan tossed one of his trophies at her, specifically the azure scale, and going by his tale, this must be from the blue dragon that his greenhorn self was forced to fight alone. The black mage was no dragoon, but... wouldn't this scale in particular be a precious memento of the triumph that marked the beginning of Galahad's illustrious legacy? Why was he giving it to her, a chimeric facsimile of the creatures he was born and raised to slay?

[color=lightblue]“You have free will and the capacity for independent thought. I have to imagine it was for a reason. Or else you’d be just another one of Valheim’s living weapons. Perhaps you were born like that, but I don’t imagine that’s how you want to die.”[/color]

[color=d3d3d3][i]Again, he speaks truth. They tried to turn me into Grayscale, but I resisted, that alone is proof that I possess will, I can [b]choose[/b].[/i][/color]

[color=lightblue]”Wear it, break it, ponder upon it, throw it in the sea. Do something with it. What I need from you, is to be more than just a weapon.”[/color]

[color=d3d3d3][b]"..."[/b][/color] Urgh... why must he act so nonchalant about these supposedly treasured trophies? People are difficult, but if this was his way of asking her to be more than just a mindless rampaging entity, then she'd not insult his generosity, [color=d3d3d3][b]"I swear. I'll [i]never[/i] walk the path they had set for me. I [i]chose[/i] to defy them and save this world, with all of you."[/b][/color]

[color=lightblue]”Don't swear to me.”[/color] Galahad said simply, finally turning his attention back to his axe. [color=lightblue]”Swear it to yourself.”[/color]