[b][color=f49ac2][h3] Ayel Raunefeldt [/h3][/color][/b]


His noble and cunning evasion had seemingly bore fruit, despite not having the brutish training of those woodhugging rangers, he was basically a chameleon. 

But somehow someone had still managed to bypass his effort and gone as far as to call out his name, without any mention of his grand titles. The voice was one he recognized, it had been a constant reoccurring thing in his nightmares, how often he would have woken from his noble slumber screaming in controlled...panic? No. He was not the panicked kind, he was just startled. It wasn't fear neither. It was a sense of self-preservation. 

The voice in question would have made the hair on his neck stand up, haf he not seen them artfully removed as a part of his daily self-tending routine. 

Ayel nearly slipped as he reacted to the voice, it wasn't that he lost his composure, he was far too levelheaded for that nonsense. Must have been the bad ground. 

[i]'Ahhhhhhhhh!' [/i] He screamed internally, throwing a glance quickly in the direction of the distant terror, before he ran, he ran as gracefully as a drenched noble could. Why had he not trained his legs more? This was clearly Faldrin's fault for not suggesting more mundane things. Useless commoners. 

But then again, running were for those without calm and- wait... he couldn't be running. No. This was simply a hasty walk. The nobleman comforted himself as he definitely not ran. 

He needed to change and get to his carriage, but odds were that the literal evil bearing an umbrella was heading for his estate in the making. Why did he send Faldrin away at such an unfitting time to deliver letters to the Aurelian royalty? 

[i]'Curse you Faldrin! You are never around when needed!' [/i] He mentally lamented, if Dawnhaven wouldn't have been so barbarian infested then he wouldn't had to do all this. It all fell back into place. It were those pestersome peasants fault. Ofcourse. It always were. 

But Aelios was with him, likely watching and testing him. Oh. It was all a test of his character and patience? The nobleman reached for his face to supress the rising blush. He was so rich in character and all, to think he had even smitten a goddess, if he was a piece of cake he would have asked for more. But cakes were usually not good for ones figure, he wasn't as fat neither. But sweet and flavourful? Absolutely. But this wasn't a time for cakes, it was for escapes. 

The nobleman made it to his carriage. Safe. For now. 

Ayel then proceeded to make some of the most difficult decisions of his life. What to wear? 

He dried himself as well as he could and checked himself for any bruises. It was as he thought. He had become invulnerable. Aelios had shielded him. 

Her love for him was clear, but nothing could compete with his own admiration of himself. His lists of achievements. Ah. He had forgotten to bring with him his room of diplomas and medals. He momentarily smiled as he recalled his fur-less cat of his childhood, how he had paid the judges of a hound display to allow his feline pet to win that too. 

There was something about taking the prize coin out of the commoners hands that struck a nerve in him. He loved that feeling. The little tickle going up from his feet to his brain, a far cry from the feeling of wanting to throw up on seeing the filthy beggars. 

Ayel reached for his shelves of salves, powder, lotion, marking pens and more. All the tools needed to further decorate the view that was his face. It only bothered him that others got to enjoy the view more than him. He had his handmirror with him ofcourse, but perhaps the old idea of making Faldrin wear a mirror suit was worth a revisit. 

As was possibly getting a new cat. Without fur ofcourse. Fur was only to be worn around the neck, not petted. 

He frowned as his thoughts fell on his adoptive sister. She liked squirrels. And they in turn liked nuts. The nobleman thought it was oddly fitting as he regarded his sister to completely insane. 

She was gifting things to the poor. The thought made him shudder. He wanted nothing more than to not be seen with her. What if there would be rumors about him? The idea of happy peasants it filled him with such disdain he accidently used too much powder on his face, resulting in a sneeze. 

Then came the hardest choice. Which hat to wear? He sighed as he carefully combed his hair, then applied a very light purple lipstick on his lips. 

[i]'Mmm. I am stunning, like a kick to the head.'[/i] He smugly stared at his mirror, feeling momentarily the desire to reach out and lay his noble fingers on the sight before him. But he was hard pressed for time. He didn't know how long it would take for the archvillainess to find him. He couldn't even say he was sick, that would cause an even worse reaction. 

He could still feel the sting on his cheeks after her pinching the last time, or the awful concotion she said would cure him. 

Then the pastries and the tea, one would leave you unable to sleep and you couldn't get the taste out of your mouth, or feel the taste of anything else. The other sending you into a semi-coma where the person in question would be the ideal subject for radical suggestions. 

He still recalled how she had gotten him to sign the papers for the construction of an orphanage. It had taken him months, with plenty of sweaty nightmares and a high amount of wine to deal with. 

At least the building didn't come to bear his name, to have his surname dragged down by such lunacy. It was enough having to deal with his oblivious older brother and the umbrella wielding menace of a sister. 

Oh he had promised his mother to be kind to them both, why had his mother been so selfish on her deathbed? Ayel scoffed and then grew abit sorrowful. 

[i]'Mother...' [/i] He thought in a saddened way, before it gave way to anger. 

[i]'What did that bumbling idiot Andros have that I do not? There are door knobs more impressive than him. He also thinks that collecting stones is fun, and cricket being a sport. Disgusting insects.  What a buffoon. Good grief, if I wouldn't have sworn on your deathbed mother, I would have sent him to some remote island where he can do no harm. ' [/i] He sighed softly, that was but a wishful dream. 

He finally decided. It was going to be a black hat and coat for now. It was perfect for mourning the arrival of his sister and Flynn's marriage with some illiterate barbarian. He needed to find the prince. But where would his bestest of friends be off to? 

Perhaps that big awful inn? He shuddered on the idea of entering it. No definitely not such a place. As adventurous as his princely friend were he would surely not mingle with the commoners, no matter how many of the peasant girls would throw themselves at him. Those disgusting wenches, his best friend wouldn't ever let them get near him. 

A sudden worry crept up on his face. Unless some devious earlicking advisor or barbarian would manipulate him. 

Ayel knew what he had to do. He had to spread some words about the barbarian princess. That her ancestor was an ox would likely not be enough or believable. The Aurelians weren't stupid, unlike the rest. 

But what if the princess would be found with another barbarian or found having something incriminating on her person. Not only would he save the prince from being married to a farm animal, but he would be getting fame as the one who caught her in the act. He then could help him find a more suitable princess, someone of pure Aurelian blood. 

He momentarily lamented that if he had been born a woman, he might have become queen. But all things considered he couldn't stand the idea of cheating on himself with anyone else. Save perhaps for the goddess herself. If they had the same focus. Him. 

The nobleman finally exited his carriage with his head held high. 

Now where would he go? He had to evade his sister at all costs. He could hear the soun of music, he stopped and then felt his foot tapping to the rhythm. It didn't take him long to compose himself again and gave his foot a glare. It better not do that again. That was clearly common music, and such was beneath him. 

Whomever was making the noise had probably stolen the song from someone more accomplished. Now that he thought about it. The tune sounded familiar. 

He recalled a time in Aurelia when some troupe of, what he could only describe as thieves, paupers and vagrants were doing some performance for the dimwitted common mob. 

[i]'These gullible fools, I swear this is a theft in progress, and its coming from that inn. The inn?! That filthy hole! Ofcourse it's coming from in there.'[/i] He grinded his teeth together as he peeked around the corner in his dark outfit. 

[i]'If there is a theft going on in there, and the thief is caught, the owner can be pointed out as a thief aswell. They end up jailed and then the building can be torn down, I get worshipped as the saviour of Dawnhaven... and the sight from my new bedchamber will be improved.' [/i]He thought gleefully, but then swallowed. It meant he had to enter the inn. Perhaps he could use the excuse that he was looking for some stableboy for his noble steed. It wasn't the most brilliant of excuses, but this was witless poor people. They would buy anything as long as it was free. 

There was something poetic about it. The nobleman had his latest quest, and the reward was too good not to take it.