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Hidden 8 yrs ago Post by Raineh Daze
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Tyaethe split off from the knights as a whole shortly after entering the city, taking a few others with her. Whilst the majority had the heroic business of handing over their prisoners to face their fates, not all of them could take part. After all, the dead had to be transferred to a more suitable place whilst their families were informed than the knights' basement.

After the detour to the clergy, the considerably more sombre trio reunited to return... well, for want of a better word, home. Especially in Tyaethe's case, where any other place she'd lived in the past had been either destroyed in the regular conflicts or simply been rebuilt over the past two centuries--sometimes both.

The blood and grime long since washed off, Tyaethe felt no reason to return to the dusty room that was nominally hers and instead repeated a ritual unchanged since before even the old man had been a knight: inspect the paintings from newest to oldest for damage or the possibility of theft, before moving on to the sword. Unsurprisingly, nothing had changed in their brief trip out of Aimlenn and she moved on to part two of her plans for the day: watch over it until nightfall, then use the quiet as a time to practice.

The paladin was barely in position when the door was knocked, but made no move to open it. Someone else could answer whoever was there.
Hidden 8 yrs ago 8 yrs ago Post by FujiwaraPhoenix
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The next few hours became a blur to Tiral as some of the other knights (rather unceremoniously) loaded him onto a stretcher to drag to a wagon to make bringing him back home easier. Though marginally aware of that face, the annoying feeling of being half-paralyzed from the electricity from earlier refused to leave. With his muscles still somewhat locked up for a good chunk of the trip home, the mage was in no position to argue as the rest of the camp was cleaned up; with the prisoners rounded up without any further issue, he could at least let his mind rest at ease on that front.

"Ah... Well, who would've thought that I would've had to worry about friendly fire? That's some bad luck right there..."

With a bitter smile, Tiral tried his best to relax. With any luck, the aftereffects of the electricity would taper off after a while.



As things turned out, that lightning was a tad stronger than Tiral had anticipated. While sleeping the night away wasn't an issue (considering that his body was in a comfortable enough position to at least let him do that), attempting to move about the next morning was... Still not quite possible yet. Wincing as he attempted to move his arm even slightly, the mage opted not to attempt riding on his horse again, if only to prevent the possibility of a silly little accident (such as him locking up and falling off). With the risk of any such embarrassment at the forefront of his mind, Tiral remained lying down, quietly staring at the sky as the cart moved onward to town.

"Ah, well... Whatever. I'll just have to go learn some anti-magic wards in the future to not be left a talking corpse next time. To say nothing of our actual talking corpse..."

The knights who were attending to the wagon, it seemed, had overheard him and given a light chuckle in return.

"Hey, hey! Just don't go stabbing yourself, all right? Seeing that spectacle once was MORE than enough!" one of them responded in turn, to which a bit more raucous laughter responded. Tiral attempted to bring his head up to see who what made the comment, but the state of his body once again forced him to just lie down and wait.

"Don't worry, I'm not that crazy. The best madness is planned madness, after all."

As the chatting to lighten the mood continued on, Tiral continued to stare at the open blue sky. The nostalgic value of this scene was not lost on him; much of his childhood had been spent like this, after all...



By the time the knights had returned to Candaeln, Tiral's body was at least able to function without the pain from earlier (though it wasn't as if it had fully faded away, annoyingly enough); slowly dragging himself out of the wagon, Tiral took the Captain's suggestion to heart and slowly made his way over to the infirmary for a quick checkup. The lack of injured meant that he was at least able to get looked over relatively quickly, and with everything diagnosed as predicted (and with the treatment being more or less 'suck it up'), Tiral sighed and began to walk out of the infirmary. At the very least, if he could get back to his room, then he could begin his work on some more preventative measures.
...
Well, at the very least, that's what he WOULD have done, had there not been someone arriving to deliver a message. Seeing that everyone else had seemingly decided that 'being able to relax' was not the same as 'shirking responsibility', Tiral massaged his forehead and went over to go greet the messenger... Well, without looking like he was in too much of a spot, at least.
Hidden 8 yrs ago Post by harinezumikouken
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Marianne Delacroix

(*And her Seven Deadly Lovely Maids)



Marianne let out an exasperated huff as she continued to angrily stalk towards the baths, blowing a strand of hair that laid on her brow upwards. Under her breath, she spewed a string of obscenities and curses in her native tongue to vent her frustrations. Not far behind her, her seven maids chattered amongst themselves noisily as they followed Marianne on her heels in a single file column. Distracted, Marianne looked over her shoulder as she rounded a corner and had to stop short for she nearly bumped into Captain Fanily, who apparently had the same intentions as her.

With a sharp gasp, Marianne stopped herself and placed a hand on her chest in an apologetic gesture.
"Captain Fanily! Je suis désolé! S'il vous plaît excusez-moi I was not paying...attention..."
It wasn't until the end of her sentence that Marianne realized, she had made a mistake.
She had hoped that she didn't say her dear Captain's name loudly enough so that they would hear.
But unfortunately for the both of them, they had.
The look of impending doom that darkened Marianne's expression may have confused her poor captain, but it would all become clear soon.

Turning her head ever so slightly to look at her maids behind her, she noticed that they all stared at Captain Fanily with rapt attention having fallen silent. All it took was for one of them to ask the right question.
"Lady Marianne, did you say...Captain Fanily?" One of them asked.
"As in...the Captain of the Iron Roses?" Another asked.
Marianne turned her head back to look at Captain Fanily.
"Merde." Marianne thought to herself as she could only look even more apologetic to her Captain.
Silently, Marianne mouthed a word to Fanily.
For her to "Run."

With an explosion of joyous cheer, the seven maids all squealed as they rushed the little Captain.
Immediately bombarding her with questions and remarks on her appearance.
"Oh, but you are just so young!"
"She's only a child!"
"So the rumors were true!"
"Look at her hair, it's so pretty!" A maid said as she brushed a white-gloved hand against a strand of Fanily's blonde hair.
"Her eyes are so blue!"
"How young are you, dear Captain?"
"Congratulations on your first successful mission!"
"We're so happy to see you home safe!"
"Dear Captain, do you have a boyfriend?"
And on and on the maids went, interrogating the teenaged girl without really giving her a chance to respond thanks to the rapid nature of their native dialect. Slowly, the began to surround her as they closed in. Assaulting her with a gauntlet of personal questions.

Marianne tried to save Captain Fanily, taking a few steps towards the group and motioning with her hands for them to back off.
"Girls! Girls! Please give the Captain some privacy and space! I'm sure she's tired and-"
But, the maids were in full swing. Speaking amongst one another with lively spirits constantly inquiring Fanily of various random things.
Hidden 8 yrs ago Post by ghastlyInc
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“an hour and twenty.” Gillian said as Klien’s wagon rolled through the streets of Aimlenn. Klien rolled his eyes, ignoring his younger companion and focused on avoiding the young children, deftly weaving between the knights as they played solider before being shoo’d away. “An hour and twenty minutes I kept that spell up and still have naught but a gimped shoulder. And not a damned doctor free. Resources of all of Thaln at our disposal and we forget to hire a damnable mobile apothecary.”

The boy’s arm was held in a loose sling, provided by Klien himself. He was rather proud of it, were he honest. The ramshackle first aid was nothing if not impressive in his novice opinion. “The larger question is why did you look for an hour before giving up?” Klien asks, tired of the complaints. He knew the reasons, it gave Gillian something to focus on other than the pain, but it was growing tiresome for the elder to put up with.

Gillian huffs, refusing to answer the question and instead choosing to brood. Klien enjoys the moment of silence before pressing on, intending on ribbing his companion a bit. “I hear the captain charged four dozen men on her own to protect her squad.” He chirps, smirking as Gillian visibly bristles. “Were we to take the rumors some of the knights thrown about casually seriously I’d agree. Barely a dozen, if that.” Gillian says, annoyed.

“Say a dozen then. And don’t believe for a moment I have forgotten our bet. Clearly she’s earned your admiration with such a strike. A dozen men! And a knight killer no less!” Klien says, grin expanding. “She didn’t land the killing stroke as I know it.” The younger knight huffs. “And as I recall, it is I who decides is the victor…and I’d call it a draw.”

Klien frowns, feeling cheated. “A draw? What by Mayon’s teat makes you think such a thing? A dozen knights!” He repeats as they enter the gates of Candaeln. Gillian thinks for a moment, not particularly keep on loosing this jobs wages. “…her character is not in question. Much the opposite. But Heroics are little better than political posturing. Or worse, naivety.” He decides as they pull up to a small store house, the knight climbing off the wagon. “She’s ten years to green to be in command of a large force, and we’re lucky losses were minimal.”

Klien hops down, still defending the young captain. “It was her first taste of true battle, she deserves more leeway. And as if you could do better!” He says, waiting as servant boys begin to unload the wagon. “I don’t believe I can, but I shouldn’t be thinking I would do as well” Gillian hisses. The two fall silent for a minute or so, as the wagon is unloaded. “…fine, it’s a draw, but next time I decide who wins. Go see a healer, I’m tired of looking at you.” Klien snorts, his good mood already returning as he moves to park the wagon. “Will do…and next time we’ll make it double or nothing!” Gillian says, only getting a small wave from his friend

After quickly reapplying the glamour to his arm, the treat to the infirmary was thankfully uneventful for Gillian. With so many other patients with minor pains, the healers were quick to treat him and rush him out of their way. He’d forgotten how quickly things moved in the city, having spent much of the previous year orbiting the far outskirts of Aimlenn in between missions. Sudden surprise shoots through him; he hadn’t realized it had been a year. Parnella must be worried, if the old man was even still alive to be worried. A visit was long overdue, though…he’d definitely have to freshen up a bit. Bathing in rivers and smoke baths only do so much for ones odor and he very much doubted his mentor would appreciate the stench of recent combat being dragged through his home.

He retires to a small door just outside the mens private baths hall, pulling a small bronze key out from his belongings. Normally he’d just make use of the public baths, but as it stood he couldn’t keep the glamour on his arm up for more than few minutes and a change of clothes was in order. The private bath had been a gift from Parnella during his brief stay in the capital, though the young man used it rarely these days. He believed it was once a servants bath and his mentor had managed to pick the spot up for a song, and little else. It looked it, the plain oak door looking little better than the entrance to a linen closet compared to the ornate doors which adorned the entrances of some of the baths. Turning the key, the lock clunks open loudly, stiff from disuse.

By the standard of most nobles, the bath was humble at best. A small window high on the wall let light into an equally small room of plain brown tile. An old small wooden tub that squatted in the middle of the room and an elderly closet packed tightly in the corner were the only furnishing that graced it.

Gillian opens the closet, quickly grabbing a bucket, soap, a change of clothes and a small case of beads, beginning the slow task of filling his own bath, silently envying the small fleet of maids, manservants, butlers and more which waited on some of his fellow knights. Still, the tub was small enough to be filled with only three of four quick trips. He drops one of the beads into the bath, watching as it dissolves quickly, the water around it bubbling violently. It was a little magic trinket he’d discovered Aimlenn market one day, cheap gel beads infused with weak heating magic. While initially made for boiling water without a flame on the trail, the peasantry had taken to them quickly, both for its original purpose and their own.

“Doubt any land owner worth their salt would warm their bath in such a way” he grumbles, disrobing as the bath began to steam. He leaves his armor heaped on the floor. He’d have to clean it before he left Candaeln, so much of it would probably be thrown in the tub to soak after he was done anyway. He sigh as he lowers himself into the tub, feeling the warmth wash over his torso as he settled into the tub, his knees hanging over the edge. He stenches his arms over his head, trying to remember if he’d bothered to lock the door. “…its probably fine,” he sighs, sinking back into the water, “doubt anyone is even aware this room exists, much less occupied or not.”

Hidden 8 yrs ago 8 yrs ago Post by VitaVitaAR
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"A-ah?"

Surprised, Fanilly stumbled a little bit when she saw someone stop directly in front of her. Looking up, it became apparent quite quickly that it was Marianne, who evidently had intended to take a bath herself. As she apologized, Fanilly shook her head with a small smile. To get angry over such a thing would simply have been absurd, it was an honest mistake, wasn't it? The smallish blonde girl gave the other girl a smile.

"You don't need to apologize, it was an honest mistake," she explained, "Besides, it may be for the best if I attend-"

She paused for a moment when she heard the voices of the maids, peering past Marianne as she did.

"Er, yes, yes, I am the captain of the Iron-"

Marianne, this time, cut her off, telling her to... run? Why?

Moments later, Fanilly found herself surrounded by maids, girls commenting on her hair, her eyes, touching her, speaking about how small she is, how young she is... The girl's cheeks grew hot, bright red, and one could almost see the steam pouring from her ears. Congratulations?

"Th... thank you..." she said, weakly, stammering as she tried to get the words out. "Er... I'm... sixteen, I..."

Fanilly's cheeks grew hotter as the maids continued to surround her, bombarding her with so many questions from every angle. What could she do? This was so embarrassing... A... a boyfriend?

"N... n-no, I... I..."

The short girl shook her head, taking a deep breath. Space, she needed space!

Breaking away from the crowd, blushing furiously, Fanilly tore towards the first door she saw and forced it open.




As Tiral opened the door, what greeted him was the sight of a girl in her twenties, with long, blonde hair and a slightly tanned complexion. She wore a rather elaborate outfit with a quite puffy hat upon her head.

"Ah, hello, I was expecting the Captain, er," she gave a slightly awkward laugh, "No matter, I'm certain a loyal knight can pass along the information to her."

She cleared her through, then reached into a pouch hanging from her waist and withdrew a sheet of parchment. Unraveling it, she read it aloud.

"The Presence of Knight-Captain Fanilly Danbalion and her Iron Rose Knights is cordially requested tomorrow at Princess Eliabelle Tanenway Falthaen's Royal Ball," she began, "The Princess understands that you may not be able to bring every knight, and as such you may choose whomever you desire from your order to accompany you. Please come in your finest attire, though the Princess desires to see Knight-Captain Danbalion in armor, and eagerly desires to see an assortment of weaponry used by knights."
Hidden 8 yrs ago 8 yrs ago Post by ghastlyInc
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Gillian sighed as he relaxed, arms hanging loosely over the sides of the tub.If he was being honest, baths were the one thing about polite society that he missed. There was little better than one after a hard job, especially if that job involved the general chaos of a battle. “Hmph, now if only Mayon would bless the forest with a natural bath,” he sighs, demonic arm idly scratching his face. “But then I suppose I’d have to take note of her rites more often if she did.” Quickly he finished cleaning, wanting to enjoy the heat of the bath for as long as he could.

Something, however, disturbs his bliss. From the other side of the door he could hear a loud squeal followed by the excited chittering of some group. “Look at her hair, it’s so pretty!” he hears, muffled from the doorway. He rolls his eyes, writing off the minor disruption as gossiping maids. He sinks his head below the waterline, drowning out the chatter.

He lets his mind wander for a few moments, trying to decide if visiting Parnella tonight would be the wisest choice. He’d want the boy to stay for dinner, and that undoubtly meant other guest as well, for there were few days where his mentor did not elect to play host in some fashion or another. As much as he loved his mentor, Gillian could not begin to imagine how deep his capacity (or patience for that matter) for hospitality ran. No, visiting while he was on his way out tomorrow morning would be best. Just a quick stop to pay his respect, perhaps a drink with his aged master, and then out the door before he could become entangled in some get-together.

He is snapped out of his internal debate as his lungs begin to scream for breath, the air cold against his skin as he breaches the surface. It was time to get out anyway; he’d need the warm water to wash his clothing. He climbs out of the small tub, stretching to work out the craps as he begins to drip dry. He was about to begin cleaning when his door is suddenly and violently forced open, the door creaking in protest. He turns on the door out of instinct; arms raised and ready to tear into whatever poor fool who thought they could get the jump on him.

Gillian’s mild paranoia prepared him for a lot of things. A maid with the wrong door, knights seeking to cleanse their order of him, and so forth. The young blonde captain throwing open his door though was not one of those things. The normally hostile glint in his eyes fades to utter bewilderment. “I…uh…yes captain?” he asks, forgetting his state of dress, arms dropping a bit as he unintentionally relaxed.
Hidden 8 yrs ago Post by VitaVitaAR
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"..."

For a few moments, Fanilly was too stunned to react to anything. Instead, she stood, looking on in shock, for several moments. Finally, she bowed her head, her embarrassment in no way helped by this situation. Cheeks deeply red, the short blonde stared down at her feet and mumbled for a few moments, stumbling over her words. A captain of the Iron Roses shouldn't be so... things shouldn't end up so... Regardless, she swiftly turned away.

"I... sh... should have knocked," she said, flatly. The statement, deep down, sounded kind of stupid given the situation. She hadn't been looking where she was going, after all. This intensely awkward situation was definitely not anything she wanted to repeat, at any rate, and so she just remained firmly looking away. Fanilly could have gone her whole life without experiencing anything like this. She strongly wished that had been the case.

At the very least, there was no way this situation could get any more awkward. She would simply walk away and head to the baths herself. She'd been considering proceeding to the female baths rather then her own private one, as embarrassing as the thought was, but now she was not at all certain this was a good idea.

No, returning to her room immediately and burying her face in a pillow seemed like the better one, but Fanilly still wanted to bathe.
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Hidden 8 yrs ago Post by Zetsuko
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The was one thing on Ian's mind during the ride back, alright maybe more the one thing but this was the important one, and that was his injury and how he'd continue fighting until it healed. Now there was likely some kind of mage that could accelerate the healing process but, even if there was, he actually would prefer otherwise. This injury seemed like a good enough excuse for a bit of a change. There was this old peculiar sword cast off and forgotten in the back of Candaeln's armory and Ian has been looking for a reason to play with it for at least three months now.

He was fighting to keep his tail from wagging when they reached the Iron Rose Headquarters and, after being helped off his horse by the stable hand, quickly slipped away from everyone. He tried to avoid too much notice, more for the same reason that he keeps his ears and tail covered most of the time than anything, as he made his way to the armory for the blade. Citing the need for a substitute weapon given his condition he left his shields in the care of the quartermaster and grabbed the blade, receiving an odd look for his choice on the way out.

The blade itself wasn't too remarkable, the same kind of blade one would see on a greatsword, if a bit thicker, but the hilt was only half the normal length and on the end was a handle perpendicular to the blade, much like a katar. There was also an asymmetrical guard only coming out of one side a few inches the running straight up parallel to the blade and seemed like it was meant to hook an opponents weapon. With the blade finally in hand Ian made for the practice field, going for a secluded area to try out his new sword.

Taking the handle he leaned the sword over his shoulder and took a low stance. He lunged out and used his momentum to aid his strike. The unique handle design gave him quite some range with the weapon but his recovery from his swing was a bit awkward, he'd have to work on that. He tried the guard next, finding a training dummy that was set to be holding a wooden sword he thrust the weapon out and spun it, easily catching the dummy's weapon and wrenching it out of it's grip sending it flying to the side.

He grinned and rested the tip of his sword on the ground and his arm on the handle. He'd have a lot of fun with this thing, though before he could admire it further his attention was turned to a slowly growing ache in his left arm, maybe he should get it checked after all. Sheathing the sword on his back he set off to the infirmary to do just that.
Hidden 8 yrs ago Post by IceHeart
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It had been a busy trek back to the capital with all the thieves in tow and Julianna had plenty of duties to keep her occupied. Keeping prisoners in line, finding her black steed, reports, cleaning off her weapons and armor as best she could, and of course getting in touch with one of her family's secret couriers to pass over the spearhead to. Thankfully there were no real surprises on their way back so things went along fairly smoothly.




They had made it back to the Iron Rose Knights headquarters and the prisoners were being duly processed. Julianna took only a moment to take in the Candaeln. It was an impressive structure in its own right, the architect and decorators sure knew what they were doing when the building was constructed. What was most impressive about it was its close proximity to the Royal Castle.

There were few orders who had the honor of being so close to royalty and it just showed you how much the Iron Rose Knights were trusted by the rulers of their fair land. The Iron Rose Knights had to make sure they remained the steadfast protectors of Royal Family. If the Rose Knights started to fail under bad leadership though, their positions would soon be in question. This was something Julianna had to make sure never happened.

Julianna stepped inside the structure along with several over knights, such as Marianna, Garret, and of course captain Fanilly. The captain gave her orders and the knights started to go their own ways, heading to their rooms, the bathes, or other places. Julianna decided to just stay around for a bit and soak in the legends of the Iron Rose Knights in her favorite display cases and portraits. They always became a reminder for her of just what the Iron Rose Knights should be and the legacy she was destined to protect.

There was one particular portrait that she was especially fond of, that of Dame Yulisa. It was a very striking portrait of an armored woman with a kind expression on her face. She was not particularly beautiful, with short, brown hair, rather sharp features, and even some battle-scars that marred her homely features, but her story was quite inspiring.

Dame Yulisa was known for her bravery against the fiercest of odds, her selfless spirit that often put her in great danger to help out her fellow knights, and her kindness to all those around her. Her loyalty had been exceptional as well, one of her crowning legends had been following her captain's orders to defend a choke point to prevent enemies from coming in and pillaging a small village requesting assistance. As the story went, her captain was delayed in reinforcing her position due to some unwelcome interference and she had been stuck there a whole five days longer than she should have.

Five days with no extra supplies, no real time to rest, and constantly having to fend off attackers. Dame Yulisa tried her best and somehow managed to hold out long enough for the knights to arrive and save the day, though not before Dame Yulisa had been severely wounded. Dame Yulisa died two days later but she was forever remembered as the bulwark that saved a village and prevented their enemies from gaining a foothold in their territory.

Dame Yulisa could have abandoned her position but her determination and resolve to follow her orders won through. Dame Yulisa was selfless and loyal to a fault, believing in her commander to the bitter end. Julianna wished she could believe in someone like that as well, but so far no one had appeared that deserved her undying loyalty, not yet anyway. If she could not serve someone like that then the only option left was to become a person that could inspire others, like the previous captain had been for Dame Yulisa.

As she was musing she realized a messenger had come to the door. Sir Tiral went over to answer and Julianna found herself heading over to the messenger as well. It turned out to be an invitation to Princess Eliabelle Tanenway Falthaen's Royal Ball for Captain Fanilly and her Iron Rose Knights. It seemed the captain would be required to be in full armor though whoever accompanied her could dress how they wished, though weapons seemed recommended.

"We will be sure to deliver the message as soon as possible." Julianna gave a nod to the messenger then turned to Tiral. "Well now this is a pleasant surprise. Tell me Sir Tiral, how confident are you in the social arena? It is not often one gets the chance to attend a Royal Ball after all but I certainly know it can be quite intimidating if you are unfamiliar with the setting."

Julianna decided to ask the ice mage knight this with genuine curiousity as he did not seem to be one with much experience with the high social-life. As someone who was raised to be adept at such events she was somewhat interested to see what he thought of their sudden invitation.
Hidden 8 yrs ago Post by Zelosse
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"Teller"

Anton Duboi


Anton had loaded up the cart of wounded and ventured with them every step of the way home. Any time the cart stopped for whatever reason, he had made his rounds to ensure that everyone was taken care of and all wounds had been treated to the best of his supply and ability. A difficult task, considering he usually only took enough for a days worth of emergency medical supplies. Thank the Goddesses that others had also prepared for the inevitable injuries that came from violence.

The rest of the trip had been almost trivial as the doctor meticulously wrote up reports for each victim, right down to a single scrape or bruise, and gave the recipient their ticket. When they saw a healer they would be tended to with magical cures to accelerate the healing process. It was Tellers job to make sure the priestesses and healers didn't heal an infected wound or try to mend a bone that had not been properly reset.
The return home was not as fulfilling as he had hoped. The doctor enjoyed his time in the field.

------------------------

Returning to the Iron Rose compound brought with it a new set of challenges. Trainees got injured on the regular and often from doing something foolish. Todays adventure was into the chest cavity of a trainee who had, hilariously enough, swallowed a sharp metal object. The surgery wasn't easy but it was necessary. The priests weren't up to the task of opening a man up. Heavily sedated, Teller had painstakingly managed to cut open the mans stomach and extract the, what appeared to be, polished medal of valor. According to reports, it had fallen into his cup and he had swallowed it. Damn thing nearly cut his throat to shreds. It if hadn't been for the healers magic the poor guy might have choked to death on his own blood.
A tad grim, if you asked Teller.

Anton wiped off his forehead, though he was still wearing his beaked mask and was instead just wiping a cloth across the polished wood and leather instead of the actual sweat. Arms coated in blood, the front of his operating apron similarly lathered in crimson, Teller put in the last stitch and moved away to let the healers mend the flesh back.

"In a few hours he's gonna wake up from the sedative. Gonna vomit a few times, probably need a lot to drink, but thanks to everyone here we have saved his life. Ask him to drink from a childs sippy cup."


Teller smiled as he left the room they had taken for use as an operating room, shrugging off the bloody apron in favor of just his simple white wool shirt. It showed a few stains but was otherwise quite clean.
A bath would be nice right about now.

Thankfully his duties to the Iron Roses comprised entirely of helping with the medical aspects of such a large organization. Now that he was done the life threatening surgery and all his other patients were taken care of, it was time to relax from his time on the road and the fighting.

------------

Clad only in a towel covering his lower body, Anton strolled through the bathing area with nothing but the soft slapping of his sandals slapping on the floors. Turning a corner he was confronted by a sight he didn't think he would ever see.
Captain Fanilly turning a bright red, and to his surprise, one sir Gillian standing in his birthday suit. Evidently unaware of the scene he was causing.

Still wearing his beaked mask, loathing to take it off almost entirely, he strolled right up to the captain and glanced at Gillian.

"You might want to get that looked at mate. Before it starts to swell."

Turning his attention back to the captain he placed the back of his hand on her forehead briefly before touching his own to compare.

"I think you're running a high temperature captain. You should really take a bath."
Hidden 8 yrs ago Post by Raineh Daze
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Tyaethe continued her statue impersonation as the messenger handed over her missive, already racing for ways to get out of the worst part of this engagement. Since the ball was a prime target for assassination or nobility interfering with the knights' operation, she had to be there for Fanilly's own safety. Except poison, there was nothing that was going to get past the paladin—poison and delicious, delicious food. Especially the pastries; it would be far too easy to ply Fanilly with the royal chef's concoctions and lead her in untoward directions... or if Fanilly wasn't into cakes, the last balls had countless arrays of cheeses, crackers, bread in amazing designs from coarse to the whitest and fluffiest that had ever been made. The drink would only make it harder, especially if they brought out any of the wine from Ithillin, though their own beer could be just as much of a problem. Or if someone thought to give her one of the many juniper-based spirits her home region was known for...

But in order to prevent Fanilly from being seduced by richly flavoured puddings, Tyaethe would have to attend. Attending meant showing up in her best attire this time and that would mean removing her armour. Removing the armour was an absolutely terrible idea, even to protect the captain from juicy, honey-glazed Toban hams, and it would take some wrangling to work out how to do it. Maybe she could claim it was her finest attire and get in that way? Technically, it was when it was clean but so far as arguments went, showing up in tarnished and musty armour whilst claiming she owned nothing better would be hard to get through the doors.

Perhaps she could sneak in through the kitchen, finding a way to excuse herself as simply checking no-one poisoned the new captain? It would be a valid excuse and it would also give her an idea of what this summer's produce was like before it was brought out. If there was a particularly vibrant and rosy crop of strawberries brought in for the ball, or some ripe grapes harvested early. It had been a while since the undead had needed to look around anywhere belonging to the royal family as it was generally perfectly safe and that plan was scuppered simply by not knowing where the entrance was.

There could be a few foods being brought in late; round, meaty sausages that had just finished smoking. If she set out now, it might be possible to hide herself in the shipment somehow and get in without being seen, then continue with the kitchen plan as if nothing was wrong. If she arrived early, there might even be chance to find someone there who could polish her armour up a bit in time for the ball itself. That was one plan... though intercepting a delivery seemed harder than making one and finding out where the kitchens were and entering via the back entrance when the ball started.

That was it! If she went out now, she could gather fruit and make a most magnificent marmalade, able to stand alongside the greatest of relishes at the feast! That way, she could attend without having to remove her armour. Though the volume she needed to make in order to have it function as a proper delivery...

The statue-like knight suddenly pivoted on one foot, turning to face Tiral and Julianna. "Knights! I need your assistance in preparing something for the ball! I intend to purchase as many limes as possible and cannot carry them all myself."

She always did prefer lime to orange...
Hidden 8 yrs ago Post by chukklehed
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Christina de Kiermo walked through the halls of Candaeln, her dark armor shining dully with reflected light. She had been told by one of the guards at the gate that the Iron Rose Knights had returned to the capital mere hours earlier, and inside she was told that her new commanding officer had headed in the direction of the baths. She wasn't planning on introducing herself inside the baths, but had decided that waiting outside for her to finish was a good idea. As she passed the men's bathroom, however, she was met with a scene that both surprised and embarrassed her, though neither emotion elicited a reaction from her.

A small woman in traveling gear was standing just inside the door, facing one nearly naked man in a plague mask and a towel, and one fully naked man. Neither man seemed to notice the social awkwardness of the situation, while the woman seemed embarrassed enough for all three. She decided this situation could probably use defusing, especially considering the woman was probably her captain from the descriptions she had heard. The only problem was that she had no idea how to defuse any kind of social situation.

She decided that simply providing a detraction would probably solve the issue. Bringing herself to attention, the new knight spoke in her most respectful tones. "Excuse me Ma'am, are you Lady Danbalion, captain of the Iron Rose Knights? My name is Christina de Kiermo, daughter of Marten de Kiermo, recently arrived from the southern lands to lend my aid to the Iron Rose Knights."

After introducing herself, Christina's brilliant plan reached a dead end, and she simply stood at attention, staring impassively forward.
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“Y…yes. Yes you should have.” Gillian says, responding blankly to the young captain. There is a beat of pause, Gillian still sort of stunned from the situation, Anton’s words barely registering in the knights stupor. “Swell?..wha-” He begins to slur, as another young knight introduces herself, it suddenly dawning on him on how suspect all this must look.

The door to the private bath slams shut, existential panic now setting in. He..just flashed a the captain...unintentionally to be sure, but he doubted others would see it that way. God forbid Tyaethe catch wind of it. There is a hushed string of curses as he rapidly puts on trousers before the door is thrown back open. “I uh…apologize about that captain!” he says, face furiously red as he buttons his shirt quickly and somewhat clumsily. “I hope we can keep this incident between ourselves….and the two people who saw it…” he begins to ramble a bit, “I mean I’m willing to forget this happened provided you three return the favor…about forgetting not me seein-…” He pauses, realizing he’s only making the situation more awkward for everyone involved. He groans, rubbing his eyes, “Mayon just kill me now please." Meanwhile, in the back of his mind he swears that should get get out of this situation with his life(having long since lost hope for his dignity) that he'd never step foot in Candaeln for the rest of his days.
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"The Princess requests our presence? Well, I'm sure I can-" Tiral began to say before being cut off by Julianna, who had also happened to come to receive the message. While being interrupted was a tad rude, it wasn't as if he was in any particular mood to argue, anyhow. Bidding the messenger adieu before deciding to respond to the knight questioning him, Tiral turned to Julianna and gave off a bit of a grimace before speaking.

"I personally don't care much for social events. All those rules of etiquette and formalities and whatnot... Though I fully understand why all those extra things are in place, I really don't like the superficiality of it all. To be frank, I'd rather stay back here at Candaeln than go to some event like that; much less of a chance to embarrass myself and all that," he sighed, shaking his head. "Though, given recent trends, I'm almost certain that I'll be dragged along for the ride. Not particularly something I'm looking forward to."

Before her could turn away and begin to walk to his own room (for a second time, no less!), the 'immortal knight' came up to them and came up with...
...
Wait, what?!

"...Er... Pardon me, but did you say... Preparing? And... As many limes as possible? I'm sorry, but what in the name of the goddesses are you thinking?! Are you honestly asking us for something so frivolous?"

The incredulity of the situation was not lost on Tiral, who, with a sigh, walked over to the side and massaged his forehead. There were many reasons to not want to have to deal with something like a 'Royal Ball', but this? This was something ENTIRELY new.

"...Excuse my earlier rudeness, but my body is currently not in a suitable condition to do something like that, anyhow. If you'll excuse me, though, I'm going to return to my quarters now. There are a few more things that I need to handle before I inevitably get dragged like a dog on a leash to the event to come. I'll notify the captain in about an hour or so... Assuming I don't get caught up in my work."

With the soreness of his muscles not helping his mood any, Tiral began to walk off to his own room. Even if he had been lying in a cart the last who knew how many hours, there was a distinct difference between being bumped around uncomfortably down a road and sitting comfortably at his own table, after all...
Hidden 8 yrs ago Post by harinezumikouken
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Marianne Delacroix

(*And her Seven Deadly Lovely Maids)



That was enough. Seeing her Captain running off in what could only be assumed to be utter embarrassment was enough to incite Marianne's anger. Just as her maids started to step off and give chase after the little Captain, a crackling cascade of electricity once again wreathed Marianne's body. Her hair floating, raising like the bristling like hackles of a threatened cat, Marianne stomped her foot against the ground. The maids instantly knew they had overstepped their boundaries, acting as unbecoming and rude as they had been. Discrediting the Delacroix from their behavior. Pointing a sharp finger at the ground in front of her, the seven maids hurriedly stood in a line and bowed their heads solemnly as they braced themselves for the tongue lashing Marianne was about to give them all.

And tongue lash them she did.

Her voice echoed and boomed much louder than one would expect to come from the generally soft-spoken and kind woman. Like a rapid and non-stop volley of flaming arrows, Marianne shot off at the mouth as she viciously cursed at them in their native language. One could only imagine what was being said as with each rise in her voice, the seven maids visibly flinched as if her reprimanding of them physically wounded them. Marianne's face red with unbelievable rage as sparks and arcs of electrical power snapped and popped off of her, she appeared absolutely fearsome. Shouting and yelling at them with animated hand motions and gestures as she continued to berate them for a few solid minutes, attracting the attention of countless others. Further deepening the maids' embarrassment as they were scolded like little children.

Once Marianne had vented her frustration on them, standing there in what was essentially her bathrobe, she panted heavily. Her chest rising and falling as her lungs fought to replenish its stores of oxygen. Running a hand through her hair to push stray strands out of her face, she let out a disgruntled growl.

"Zut alors!" Marianne tossed her long black hair dramatically over her shoulder.
The maids all stood silently still.
The ass-chewing had a sobering effect on them, their feverish moods tamed.
"You are all to stand in front of my superior officer and Captain and apologize to her on behalf of the Delacroix name! You are all to say not a word otherwise from this moment on, for the rest of the day! This type of behavior is unacceptable and I will not allow this to become a trend! Me comprenez-vous?"
The maids all bowed their heads lower to Marianne.
In unison, "Yes, Lady Marianne."
Marianne turned away from them and walked towards the bathhouses.
As she walked away, the maids asked.
"Will that be all, Lady Marianne?"
She stopped in her tracks, thinking for a moment.
Turning to look over her shoulder, she quietly uttered.
"Find Sir Garrett and invite him to dinner. I wish to thank him."
The maids all curtsied, "As you wish, Lady Marianne."

In a single file column, the maids then shuffled away to find Captain Fanily.




In the bathhouse, Marianne looked about her to ensure that no one was actively watching her. Not that she was ashamed of her body, but she was just extremely shy. The coast clear, she disrobed and carefully slipped into the warm waters of the bath. By that point, she had calmed down. The electrical side effects of what many called 'mana fissuring' had discharged and dissipated naturally over time, making it safe for her and anyone joining her in the baths. As she completely submerged herself up to her neck, she laid back as best she could and let herself soak. The stresses of the day slowly easing out of her body as her muscles relaxed.

Content, she let out a sigh and closed her eyes. Her long black hair spreading out on the surface of the waters like an inky curtain as she contemplated going to sleep right then and there.

@VitaVitaAR
Hidden 8 yrs ago Post by VitaVitaAR
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On hearing another voice, Fanilly looked up, her eyes falling on... an older girl? Yes, there was someone new here, someone introducing herself! The blonde girl swiftly latched onto the chance to pull herself away from this situation. First she was mobbed by a bunch of pretty maids who were all asking embarrassing questions, then she had to look at... at... that. It was an accident, so she obviously didn't blame the male knight, but... well, it was definitely something she wanted to get away from as quickly as possible.

"Y-yes! Yes, I, er... yes, I am Captain Danbalion," she said, hastily, avoiding looking at anywhere but the girl who was currently fully clothed. "S-s-so a new recruit, then? I, er, well... h-how about we proceed to the baths and forget entirely what's going on here p-please? Please."

Fanilly took a deep breath.

"I, er, I'm sorry, this is a bad time, er..." Fanilly mumbled weakly, half to herself. This was hardly the first impression any responsible captain should be making to a new recruit. She felt humiliated. Her confidence was plummeting. If she couldn't handle this, was she really fit to be Captain...?

... No, she had to handle this. She had to!

"... We... we can talk more in the baths, so... so let's go!" declared Fanilly, striding forward and looking away from the two men with great concentration, attempting to shrug off her embarrassment. "Yes! That's what we'll do!"

Ahead, however, she spotted the maids again and froze, her cheeks growing deeply red once more.
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"Yes Ma'am." Christina replied, turning to follow her small captain. She was glad her plan seemed to have worked, but she worried briefly about the stammering man they were leaving behind, but decided he could compose himself eventually. He was a knight after all.

It wasn't ten steps later, however, that the Captain drew up short, seemingly brought to a standstill by the sight of a group of servants. To Christina, the servants seemed meek and determined to stay out of the way, but something about them seemed to cause her Captain further embarrassment.

"Does this group upset you for some reason, Ma'am?"
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Marianne's Seven Deadly Lovely Maids


As the seven maids found Captain Fanily, they lined up in a horizontal flank by order of seniority. The youngest and least experienced servants on the outer edges while the oldest and senior most maid stood in the center. Though they didn't realize that they basically blocked Captain Fanily and her guest's direct path, they all then in unison bowed their heads low to them. Practically at a 90 degree angle.

Speaking to the ground, the senior maid spoke up first.
"Dearest Captain Fanily, we have recently all come to the conclusion that we may have caused you undue stress."
The following dialogue then alternated between each different maid.
"For causing you such embarrassment, we have come before to you apologize profusely on behalf of the Delacroix name."
"Please, accept our apology."
"If there's anything we can do for you and the Iron Roses in the future, do not hesitate to ask."
"Although ultimately we are charged with serving directly under Lady Marianne, as her superior officer our services will be extended to you also."
"As such, by proxy, we serve the Iron Roses as a whole."
In unison, they pleaded.
"Do forgive us for our trespasses!"
There, they stayed until Captain Fanily responded to them.
Hidden 8 yrs ago 8 yrs ago Post by VitaVitaAR
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"... I... er..."

Oh, how to respond to that question... What could Fanilly say? That they'd mobbed her and asked her all sorts of embarrassing questions? Ah, no, she had to stand firm. She had to make sure that she didn't let herself slip again. She had to be a good captain, and a good captain did not turn into a blushing, embarrassed mess in the face of social duress. She couldn't let herself do that. She couldn't. Of course, the teenaged knight failed to stop her cheeks from remaining hot and red.

The only thing that solved the issue, really, was the revelation that the maids had returned instead to apologize to her. For a few moments Fanilly stood silent, then took a deep breath.

"Ah. Yes, um," she stumbled over herself for a few moments before managing to continue speaking. "You are forgiven. Thank you, very much, for your apology and future service."

Fanilly was reminded of her own family's maids, in that moment. Even when she was a young child, that had taken care of her when her parents were unavailable. Which was, in truth, quite often... Fanilly had elected only to take three along when she became captain. She had to stand on her own two feet and prove herself as much as possible. She couldn't let herself lose confidence, and so... she had to do it alone. Well, as alone as she could.

"I was about to take a bath, and speak with a new recruit," Fanilly continued, putting the embarrassing situation firmly in the back of her mind as quickly as possible. "I can talk to you again later if you're not busy, to see if there is any way you can assist."
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Marianne's Seven Deadly Lovely Maids


The maids then stood straight, curtsying politely before bidding their adieus. "As you wish, Captain Fanily. Thank you." they all said in unison. Reforming into their single file column, they then set about in locating this...Sir Garrett. Whomever he was and why Lady Marianne needed to thank him was beyond their knowledge, and of course they couldn't help but whisper amongst themselves as they set about to finding him. In a way, disobeying Lady Marianne's orders. But what she didn't know, couldn't hurt her right? As long as they remained on their best behavior.

"Who is this Sir Garrett?" One asked to the rest.
"There is no telling. We know none of the other Iron Roses."
"How many Iron Roses are there?"
"No telling that, either."
"What do you think he did for Lady Marianne?"
"Maybe he saved her life?"
"Whatever it was, surely it was of grave import to our Lady."
"Especially to have us invite him to dinner with her."

As they whispered to one another at a volume so that only they and those in close proximity could hear, they passed by the half-naked Sir Gillian and Doctor Teller. A few of them lingered about to eye the two men and stifled giggles amongst themselves, while the rest were too off-put by Doctor Teller's mask and hurried the group along.

"What do you think he looks like?"
"Probably a face only an Ogre or Troll could find attractive."
Some more stifled giggles, the one who made the statement got smacked on her arm.
"Did you hear how Lady Marianne spoke his name?"
"I doubt he's as ugly as you made him out to be."
"He's possibly some bear or brute of a man."
"He can't be that bad!"
"He better not have been rude to our lady or was inappropriate to her."
"What could you do if he had?"
"Watch, he's probably some prim and frilly flower of a man."
"Do you think that's Lady Marianne's type?"
"Honestly, with that woman, there's no telling."
"She did turn down many a suitor.."

Their search for Sir Garrett dragged on a bit too long for their lack of patience. So, they each inquired other servants working about. Having gathered enough information, soon they found themselves standing in front of his door. Lining up in their horizontal flank formation, they each cast nervous glances at the door until finally the senior maid shushed them all and gently rapped her knuckle against his door.

"Be quiet!"
"Do you think he's even in his room?"
"He might already be eating or something else!"
"Will you hush?"

Like the many heads of a hydra, some of them bickered and squabbled amongst themselves while the others attempted to quiet them. Speaking in soft tones, the senior maid grew impatient and knocked a second time.

Knock-knock.
The solid sound of a white-gloved knuckle against a wooden door.
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