[IC] Celestial Bonds

[VarionusNW]

- A Beginning of Sorts -

I stood upon the edge of eternity,
and watched the end of all things.
I saw the sky shatter, and with it fell the stars.
With the stars fell a great, endless darkness that choked the earth itself.
The land screamed in agony as it struggled,
Writhing for a thousand ages,
Calling for the gods to undo the catastrophe,
But the gods had long since fallen silent,
And man had long since met the same fate.
And so, I stood upon the edge of eternity,
Until I too became nothing.
_{-Adondum VII}

𝓝𝓸𝓿𝓮𝓶𝓫𝓮𝓻 𝟕𝓽𝓱, 𝟏𝟑𝟐𝟕 / / 𝓐𝓾𝓼𝓯𝓮𝓵𝓭 / / 𝓒𝓪𝓻𝓻𝓲𝓭𝓪𝓷'𝓼 𝓔𝓼𝓽𝓪𝓽𝓮 / / 𝓜𝓸𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰

A line of carriages slowly progressed down a dirt road as dawn rose over the the home of Dalgen Carridan, somewhere on the outskirts of Ausfeld. As the vehicles approached the mansion, a swarm of men dressed in dull, grey robes seemed to pour out of the building, attending to various tasks in preparation of the first caravan's arrival. Their tasks, much to the dismay of several of Carridan's servants weaving their way through the crowd, seemed to have nothing to do with actually bringing in the horses and carriages. Rather, the men of the Church were bringing out stacks of documents, doing quiet prayers, or just standing in the way in the case of some.

It only took a few moments after the surge of low-ranking church members for the caravan to actually begin to stop in front of the mansion. The line of six carriages quickly emptied, most of the passengers being more members of the Church, though their robes much more extravagant to mark their higher places in the generally esoteric ranking system of the Church of Adondeus. One such figure, Alles Moranth, exited his vehicle wrapped in robes of a pristine white, their gold trim painstakingly inscribed with blue runes and symbols over their entire length. His identity as a member of the Second Hand, the second highest rank of the Church, was unmistakable. Along with him came a retinue of men wrapped in the red robes of the Emperor's own Magi, who he quickly dismissed into the building.

Moranth raised a bony hand, and one of the churchmen handed him a stack of documents. His eyes scanned the parchment as he walked into the front hall, most of the churchmen following behind him. Alles seemed to emanate an aura of importance around him, though whether that was due to how held himself or just his status didn't really matter, he seemed to take joy in it either way.

"Where's the Truthkeeper who wrote this?" Moranth spoke to no one in particular; someone in the crowd was bound to answer. A form shuffled through the crowd, muttered something, and bounded off down some hallway. A few moments later, he was back with a man who seemed no taller than an average child.

"You wished to see me, Your Holiness?" The voice, which belonged to Aers Tolle, was about as meek as one would expect out of someone so short.

"What is the meaning of this?" Alles waved the stack of documents in front of the small scribe, his ancient face contorted in anger. "My orders were a report from the leading Keeper, AND Seeker of this operation. I see a complete detailing of our personnel, supplies, and everything on Carridan's end, but I don't see any information on security. Where is the Truthseeker?"

"Lemare... Lemare hasn't come back from doing his rounds of the perimeter. I can send for him, if you wish--" A raised hand and a deep sigh stopped Tolle before he could finish.

"Just take me to Carridan. Have someone inform this... Lemare where to find me when he finally returns."

It had been over two hours, and still there was no sign of the Truthseeker. Conversation in the third floor meeting room had slowed to a halt. Tolle sat at one of the massive table's ends, copying down something being whispered to him by a grey-clad churchman. Carridan sat toward the center, nursing what seemed to be tea, but was much more likely to be some sort of alcohol. One of the Emperor's Magi had made his way into the room at some point, sitting across from Carridan in stark silence.

The tall, bony Moranth stood in front of the room's only window, at the end of the room across the table from Tolle, and stared down at the grounds below. Servants and churchmen still worked, carrying several crates and bags into the mansion. One of the carriages sat untouched, clearly still occupied. Inside waited the first of the Celestial Bonds, who Moranth had ordered be told to wait until after he had met with Lemare. Of course, he had not anticipated them sitting there for this long.

"No sign of your Seeker, then, eh?" The grumbled line came from the gravely voice of Dalgen Carridan, the brick-like man still hunched over his drink. He certainly didn't look like a nearly 50-year-old general, or a successful one at that. The scar that crossed over his face framing a socket that now contained a glass eye, though, certainly marked him as a man that had seen battle.

"General, I think it would be best to go down and begin your greetings. Let us not keep your guests much longer. There will soon be fourteen more of them to get settled in, of course." Alles spoke slowly and deliberately, though from his tone alone it was obvious that he was more perturbed by Carridan's tone than by wasting anyone's time.

"Ye, I hear ya, Your Holiness. I think you've got a point there, at least." The old soldier rose from seat with a loud grunt, pressing his weight against the table enough to disturb the mage across from him, who had appeared to have fallen asleep during the long silence. "Oh, by the way," Carridan added while standing up, "will I be seeing you at dinner tonight, Your Holiness? And what 'bout your churchmen? There sure are a lot of 'em. You're lucky I've a lot of extra room in the servant quarters..." He trailed off.

"No," was the only response Moranth gave, though Tolle managed to fill in the rest before Carridan left the room.

"Most of the Tenths'll be leaving before nightfall. No need to feed them more." The phrasing felt too curt for Tolle's sheepish nature, though that was explained by the fact that he was reading from one of the various stacks of paper laid out in front of him. With that, Carridan left, and Moranth turned his attention backed to the scene unfolding on the grounds below. A strangely confident looking woman was walking up the road to the mansion, followed by a man in a white cloak that seemed resigned.

"Why can't I come through? Don't you know who I am?" The red-headed woman repeated at the guards. Behind them stood an imposing gate, the metal styled into the figure of a lion, the ferocity of which completely contrasted the men that protected it. The two guards looked baffled, and almost afraid of the girl. She stood almost a head taller than the shorter of the two guards, who must of been average height at worst. Her slender frame was wrapped in a thick fur coat, giving her something of an imposing look, despite being nothing more than a lone woman yelling at two baffled guards.

"No, miss. We don'," the left guard muttered, with the right simply shaking his head as to say the same thing. They both held their guns awkwardly, not sure if they should point them at the strange woman, or keep them to the air.

"Okay. I'll spell it out for you both, then. L-Y-S-A-N-D-R-A. A-U-L-M-O-O-R-E," True to her word, she loudly proclaimed every last letter, to the guards exasperation.

"Yes, miss, you already said that. We still can't just let you onto the property. We'll have to ask you for documentation, or anything to prove that you are who you say you are," once again the left guard did all the speaking, with the right guard sticking to appropriate head motions.

"Oh, you want documentation? I'll give you documentation." A wide smirk dragged it's way across Miss Aulmoore's face as she pulled a letter from the satchel that hung at her side. "Here." She showed the front of it to the guards, clearly showing the wax seal, and the marking within. "A letter from the Emperor himself!" The left guard quickly snatched it, flipping it in every which direction as he stared at it as intently as he probably was capable of. For a moment, it seemed as if he was going to lick it, but his compatriot snatched it before he could. After a similarly close inspection, the guard handed the letter back.

"So, we can't really verify dis," The left guard concluded, "We'll need an official to verify somethin' of dis caliber."

Aulmoore sighed and pulled five other letters out her bag.

"Okay, if a letter from the Emperor himself won't do, how about this? A letter from EACH of the First Hand." Sure enough, each letter was stamped with a different seal, marking them as from the leaders of the Church. The two guards both gave a series of shrugs and sighs. Neither seemed willing to let Lysandra through.

"What seems to be the matter, miss?" A deep voice pierced the air from behind Aulmoore, and as she turned around she found that it belonged to an absurdly large man, standing at least a head and a half above Lysandra, and nearly four times as wide in the shoulders. The giant was wrapped in a white cloak, marked with the symbol of the Third Eye of the Church, the Truthseekers. Behind him trailed a pair of more reasonably sized men, though wrapped in black cloaks and clearly holding rifles.

"I'm just trying to get through to the Carridan residence, Truthseeker," Lysandra followed with a curtsy and an introduction, "Lysandra Aulmoore, of the Seventh." Immediately, the Truthseeker's expression darkened.

"Documentation." Lysandra silently handed him all six letters. He didn't bother opening them to check their contents. He knew exactly who he was looking at just by the fact that she had them. He handed them back gingerly. "Alright then," his light tone didn't fit his stern expression. "My name is Dinn Lemare. Nice to meet you, Miss Aulmoore." He rose his gloved hand towards the woman, who accepted it in a firm handshake.

"Likewise." The pair quickly turned to the gate, which was being opened by the two guards who had denied the woman entry only moments ago. Lemare waved his two followers to stay behind at the gate for a short while, he would go ahead with the woman. After a few moments, the gate was closed again, and the two were alone on the road up to the mansion. "You really should do something about those guards."

"Lotte and Tobbs? They're good men, please don't give them too much trouble." He let out a deep sigh, sinking into somewhat of a lurched posture as he walked, removing a lot of the intimidation in his sheer height.

"I'll try. No promises," she snickered, with Lemare releasing another sigh.

"Honestly, you are the worst woman I've ever met."

"I am the last woman you should say that to, Truthseeker," She crossed her arms, a smirk running across her face.

"Just Dinn would be fine, Lys."

"Then you can call me by the full Lysandra Aulmoore then, Dinn. Really, if anything you're the worst man I've ever met. My husband would murder you if he ever laid his eyes on you."

"Yes, yes. I will prepare for his full wrath. Anyway, if you're going to give everyone a headache, try to keep it minimal. A good number of them are still children."

"I'll try. No promises." After a few moments, they fell into silence, though Aulmoore did let out a few quips here and there that seemed to shrink the Truthseeker more into his lurch, though he had mostly recovered by the time they reached the front steps of the mansion. The pair were immediately directed to Moranth and Tolle by Carridan himself.

Over the course of the day, Carridan had greeted each and every one of the Celestial Bonds, finishing the last before nightfall. His greetings for most of the pairs had been little more than the requisite pleasantries, a prayer from one of the churchmen which had gotten obnoxious after the ninth repetition of the same verse, and a send off to some of his servants who would actually give them a tour of the premises. Carridan wasn't exactly great with guests, but that much he could manage, especially with the knowledge that he'd be whipping them into shape soon enough.

The servant's short tour was at least somewhat comprehensive, but before anything they asked if the pairs would want separate rooms, or to share. After that abrupt question, some other servants quickly ran off to the second floor before the tour group. The first stop was the kitchen and dining hall where, there pairs were informed, they could request a meal at any time, though it was recommended to avoid eating too heavily as dinner would be served at seven that night, and all were expected to arrive. Following that, the pairs were shown to the gardens, which filled much of the grounds to one side of the mansion. The extensive gardens made a rather relaxing spot, though the servant also mentioned that the garden also functioned as a memorial to some of Carridan's more recently lost family members, so it was recommended to avoid the gardens if he was there. Despite this dour note, the beauty of the gardens was not something one could ignore. An endless maze of magnificent, meticulously trimmed hedges, and endless flowerbeds, with some small fruit trees and more edible plants also dotting the place.

Whilst showing the pairs the gardens, the servant also informed them of the other locations on the rather extensive property, such as a large field being prepared that would be used for training in the coming days, as well a graveyard on the northwest edge. There was also some groves and farmland towards the eastern edge of the property, but these, as well as the graveyard, were off limits mostly due to their distance from the mansion itself, each being one or two hours of walking from the buildings. In addition, there was a second building near the mansion that functioned as the servant quarters, and the pairs were asked to stray from this building for obvious reasons.

After this, the pairs were lead through the rest of the ground floor, which mostly consisted of several rooms being used for storage, as well as a few rooms deemed off-limits, their doors locked. The second floor was mostly a maze of unused rooms like the first, though there was a few hallways of rooms clearly prepared to be lived in. At this point, the servant unlocked one or two of the rooms, based on requests for shared or separate rooms, and informed the pairs that if they had any requests for their living arrangements, they had only to ring the bells on the wall inside their rooms to call a servant, and the request would be fulfilled in a timely fashion. The servant also informed the pairs that restrooms were place at the end of each hall on the second floor, though the first floor's restrooms were mostly off-limits. As well, the third floor was also deemed off-limits for the time being.

The servant reminded the pairs that dinner would be at seven, and left them to their rooms, in which everything seemed brand new. A comfortable-looking bed, an expensive looking dresser, as well as a similar nightstand, a wardrobe, and a solitary desk and chair were all that occupied the room, each of those items doubled for those pairs sharing rooms. The walls were only a dull off-white, but just as pristine and fresh-looking as every other item in the room, either painstakingly added prior to their arrival, or long untouched. The wardrobes also seemed to have some contents, a few outfits seemingly tailor made for each of the eighteen, fitting their taste to some degree, though a bit more extravagant in some cases.

Dalgen Carridan had taken his place at the end of the seemingly endless dining table, and within a few minutes his guests had begun to file in. To his left sat Dinn Lamure, and Aers Tolle sat to Carridan's right. The bulk of the table's length was reserved for the eighteen guests, each place even marked with a nameplate, with each individual sitting across from their partner. The other end of the table was capped off by a pair of the Emperor's magi, with the seat at the table's end still unoccupied. Carridan would rather it stay that way, but he didn't have a large enough table otherwise.

"Alright'n," Carridan began, as the last of the eighteen had arrived at the table, "As you've all only arrived today, and I'm sure you're little more than strangers with each other, as well as myself, that it'd be best to start with some introductions, especially since your fates are intertwined in some sense. I guess I'll start, these two," he motioned to the churchmen to his left and right, "and the Magi there can follow, and we'll move around the table from there." Carridan let the room fill with silence as he took a swig of his drink. "Anyway, as ya know, I'm Dalgen Carridan. Fifty... seven, I must be? Fifty-eight or so if I've lost count. Been a general 'bout as long as I can remember, but after some things came up, I retired. It was after that that I lost my eye, actually, not that I'll be telling ya 'bout that'n," his hand passed over his glass eye as he spoke. "I was asked to whip the lot of ya into fightin' shape, which I'm still more than capable of. We'll start the day after tomorrow, by the way, just to warn you." Carridan silently motioned to Lemare.

"My name is Dinn Lemare, Truthseeker of the Third Eye of the Church of Adondeus. My job mostly involves seeking out heretics and false prophets and dealing with them, though in this case I'll be assisting Carridan, as well as making sure you all stay safe. If you're itching to explore the property, please make sure to run it by me so I can send some hounds with you." After some obvious confusion, Lemare clarified that the Hounds were the black-cloaked churchmen openly carrying weapons, which seemed to dot the property. After a few moments of silence, the next speaker stood.

"I-I'm Aers Tolle," his voice shook as he spoke, "Truthkeeper. Scribe." Realizing his compatriot's nervousness, Lemare picked up the rest of Tolle's introduction.

"He basically makes sure everyone knows what they need to know. If you need a copy of anything, or information on anything, he's who you should ask. Though, I do admit he's a bit sheepish, so go easy on him, alright?" Tolle nodded along with Lemare's points.

Next were the two mages, who simply introduced themselves by name and sat back down. Both were in their late fifties at the youngest, with the older-looking of the two sporting a grey beard and a completely bald head, the other still having some wisps of black hair on his own scalp. The bald one was Calmes, his less-bald friend being Hann. After the two finished, there was a short silence. None at the table spoke, not for unwillingness, but rather because an obnoxious woman was making her way through the dining hall as loudly as possible.

"Ahem," she sounded as she reached the table, resting one arm on the back of the empty chair, "sorry I'm late, I had some business with Moranth. He really doesn't like losing power, does he?" Silence filled the hall as she removed her fur coat and tossed it a nearby servant, revealing an elaborate crimson dress that seemed more trouble than it was worth, but she seemed to be comfortable enough in it. "So, are we doing introductions, then?" She asked as she sat down. "In that case, I'm Lysandra Aulmoore, and I am now technically in command of this operation, isn't that wonderful?" She clapped a bit, though stopped herself when no one joined in, dropping her face into a pout. "Oh, and this operation, to just give everyone a quick refresher, is the training and protection of the eighteen of you, whilst our good friends the Emperor's mages," She enthusiastically gestured to Calmes and Hann, "will be working to figure out exactly how your powers are supposed to stop the end of the world." Baffling silence fell for a good few seconds, but with a clap of her hands, Lysandra went right back into rambling.

"Oh right, I should be talking about myself a bit more. Well, I'm a mage of an empowered bond, sort of like you all, but without the whole destiny bit. Me and my partner, our abilities are more suited to dealing with other bonds than actually fighting, which is part of why I'm here, actually. He would be here in my place, given his ability to see into people's pasts, but he had a... prior engagement and couldn't make it. So, for the time being, you have me. Don't worry, I don't bite... much. Oh, and my focus, it's a little thing called romance." With that, and a quick snicker, Lysandra Aulmoore finally shut up, allowing the guests to finally process the stream of consciousness they just received, as well as tend to their own introductions, as he had a little bit of everything prepared, his servants laying out a veritable feast on the table.

OOC Notes

@January@RedDusk@GreenGoat@Diggerton@Snagglepuss89@Lasrever@PapiTan@Chasers115@Baklava@banjoanjo@dragonmancer@Riffus Maximus@Pink Khione@ImAMushie@Almalthia
Your characters will all arrive at the Carridan mansion throughout the day, at any time between the early morning and late afternoon (the pair that arrives at dawn has already been decided), with no two pairs arriving at the same time. Feel free to include arrival and the tour in your posts. This introductory period will cover the time from dawn to the end of dinner on the 7th. Feel free to have characters interact before dinner, but please make sure to include your character's introduction in a post before the end of the period. Remember to ping a GM if you require NPC interaction.

[GreenGoat]

Rose-Marie & Regis
Dinner Table, Carrigan's Mansion, Ausfeld.

---

Without a doubt, the journey here had been rather uneventful. Far as it was, the coach she hired and a few men she brought along had no trouble getting here. The letter she got did not explain much, or at least, did not explain as much as she wanted to know. The Marquis of Agneux herself, and all she got was that? Rose-Marie Bachelot d'Agneux swore they were trying to ridicule her. They even dared asked whether they'd be sleeping together. Together, in one room like they were depraved deviants who sought only to sate their lust! The facilities the servants showed them around to seemed adequate at least, but a slight curl at the corner of her mouth appeared once she thought of her own castle, more lavishly decorated.

Left in her room before the dinner with her varlet, Marie sat on the bed and sighed. "Regis, what do you think of all this?"

”All the religious people make me nervous.” Reggie spat out, half-joking, before quickly doubling back, ”Sorry, m'lady, that's probably not very proper of me to say. I'm no heretic, and I'm all for respecting the hierarchy, but... well, these devout types are a little too numerous for me and a little too holier-than-thou. I guess they've earned the right, but...”

Regies cut himself off. ”Forgive me, m'lady, I'm rambling. I don't like this situation. We should be in Agneux, not running about the countryside messing with magic and... celestial bonds.” Regies smiled, ”Of course you shouldn't take my complaining as an unwillingness to serve. I will do whatever you ask, even if it means running about the countryside messing with magic and celestial bonds.”

"Hm." She smiled to herself at his outburst. "That is true. Pray do not speak in such a manner in the presence of others. They might not be as understanding as I am."

Pulling out a pocketwatch, she noted the time before stuffing it back into her clothes. "In truth, I have apprehensions about this whole trip. Had it not been for the seal on the letter, I would have refused. But.. no.. It is no matter, it is nothing for you to worry about."

Marie of course, was worried about her younger sister, the only one left in her family that other nobles could deem 'desirable'. Marie was sure no one from another family would be keen to have her, a rather strongheaded and rough woman, to be their spouse. And those who do, was surely seeking only the prestige that came from her lineage and name.

"There is only a bit of time left before the dinner. Have you dealt with everything, Regis? Has the horse been fed and watered? Is my gun kept properly?"

”Yes, m'lady.” well, at the very least he sure hoped that he'd remembered to watered the horses. He was vigilant with the gun, but it wasn't an unusual occurrence for him to forget the horses. He really wasn't a great servant, all things considered, ”Horses fed and watered and gun in top condition.” he said with an exaggeratedly serious voice.

Marie narrowed her eyes at that, leaning in closer to his face. After a moment, she straightened herself, and opened the door. "Good. Let us make haste. I have misgivings about all of this, but I will not be late for this dinner."

***

Dinner looks adequate, with a variety of food on the table. It was a pity she could not say the same of the company. There seemed to be a rather appaling number of lowly peasants joining them, and there was this horrible stench coming from somewhere, no doubt from those peasants' lack of hygiene.

But this was an official event, filled with obviously important people at the head, even if the rest were mere rabble. Her grim face bared no emotion as she steepled her fingers in front of her, listening to those very important people speak. It was all hogwash to her; if they really wanted to save the kingdom they should have sent her a letter and a few regiments of men to train, not all this superstitious tomfoolery. While she had no doubt about magic existing, relying solely on magic was folly in her mind. A few hundred well trained men could do wonders on the field after all. And if the so called end of the world was coming? Then they should field an entire army, worthy of meeting the end, and put this sort of thing second.

"Bloody fools, the lot of them," she mouthed, only loud enough for Regis beside her to hear.

Seeing as Lysandra finally finished her speech, Marie glanced at Regis, obviously expecting him to introduce both himself and her.

Regis smirked slightly at Marie's comment. ”Bloody fools.” Regis agreed quietly, imitating Marie's tone jokingly. As she turned to him he nodded, standing up. This part of being a servant wasn't so bad! He always loved talking, and now he could talk and everyone had to listen.

He cleared his throat, ”It is my honor to introduce you to m'lady, The Honorable Marquis d'Agneaux, Rose-Marie Bachelot d'Agneaux... and I'm m'lady's humble servant, Regis Proulx. Regis gave an exaggerated bow before taking seat again, glancing at Rose-Marie and giving a thumbs up under the table.

The only reaction she gave from that gesture was a small twitch at the corners of her mouth, but otherwise, she looked as serious as ever, silently judging the others at the table.

[January]

---

𝓝𝓸𝓿𝓮𝓶𝓫𝓮𝓻 𝟕𝓽𝓱, 𝟏𝟑𝟐𝟕 / / 𝓐𝓾𝓼𝓯𝓮𝓵𝓭 / / 𝓒𝓪𝓻𝓻𝓲𝓭𝓪𝓷'𝓼 𝓔𝓼𝓽𝓪𝓽𝓮 / / 𝓜𝓸𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰

---

Gabriel never thought his life would take such an unexpected turn.

He would have been fine with routine. He liked it. Had worked and built his own comfortable life around it. Arden was included then, and he was still with him now. But magic was a different beast altogether; Gabe did not know how to tackle it. It felt like a fairy tale. Something his father would read to him in the distant past. Except now, it seemed he and Arden were in one.

He felt like laughing at the ridiculousness of it all, had it not been so real. The ‘magic’ was right there, just lurking beneath his fingertips. At a moment’s notice, Gabe knew he could draw it out as easily as breathing, only that he chose not to. Because it was absolutely ridiculous. Why would someone such as him be chosen? Arden would have come as no surprise; he was like magic in a way, bright and beautiful and simply…divine. But now, they were in this together, and there was no backing out. Gabe would just have to make sure they would both make it out alive.

If they could make it out, that was. For all he knew, his way of life was over. There was no going back.

That prospect scared Gabe more than it should, so he tried to shake that line of thoughts, standing up abruptly and stalking over to the nearby desk, where a pitcher of water was. Forgoing the cup, the hunter chugged straight from the pitcher, thankful for sweet drink the servants were so readily provided. At least Arden would be comfortable here, or he hoped. He knew his friend had always pushed himself too hard back at the cottage, and the life of a hunter hadn’t always treated the former noble too well. At least this would be something Arden deserved? Would he prefer this to the cabin in woods?

Did he prefer this, in the first place?

His gaze drifted to the sleeping body on the bed. Maybe he would ask later.

Thankfully, the help knocked right at that moment, relieving Gabe from his rumination. Apparently, they were expected at dinner to present themselves before the lord of this mansion and get introduced to other bonded pairs. Gabe only nodded stiffly at the older servant, before quickly shutting the door and cutting him off. Afterward, he went over to where Arden was napping on the bed, nudging gently at his friend’s shoulder.

Arden stirred, but didn’t wake, sleep having settled quite soundly by then. He dreamed of a rustic forest cottage where the light crackling of firewood remained a steady background accompaniment to the scents of cooking meats and boiled herbs. But most of all he dreamed of the friend he had known almost all his life, whittling new arrow shafts by firelight while the flickering flame cast tantalizing shadows over taut shoulders and the graceful lines of defined muscles. In warmer weather, Gabe rarely wore his tunic indoors.

A gentle touch against his shoulder from an unknown source and the dream moved to a bed, like he had always been there, Gabe’s arms around him because the cottage had room enough for a single bed and Gabe had refused to let him sleep on the floor. That made him happy. Every little thing.

A small smile from Gabe was all he ever needed in a day. And maybe he could hope the smiles meant something more.

Arden only smiled as Gabe nudged him, his dream taking the gentle touch in stride and weaving it in seamlessly.

Gabe’s touches grew persistent when it was clear that his friend wouldn’t get out of bed on his own anytime soon.

“Dinner’s ready.” -He pinched Arden’s cheek lightly, only to get a quiet hum in response, Arden’s cozy dream permeating the hunter’s mood as well. That was a new thing he also had to get used to, this strange new bond they shared. At times, he would feel Arden’s emotions leaking through should he focus enough. And if he wanted, he and Arden could communicate via pure thoughts alone. This magic was strange and scary for Gabe, who had known only bows and traps and knives all his life. But if he were to be bound with anyone at all, that person might as well be Arden.

He was comfortable with Arden’s presence, and he knew his friend felt the same.

But their dinner waited. And he dared not to invoke the wrath of those lords and ladies.

Slipping one hand under Arden’s arm, he lifted his friend up from the comforting warmth of the bed. At that, Arden blinked awake sheepishly, turning his face towards Gabe’s chest and snuggling tight in an attempt to chase dreams. The hunter sighed, letting his friend indulge for a few moments before beginning to rock the smaller body gently.

“Gabe…” a voice finally answered, still heavy with sleep. It was neither a call nor an announcement, the tone faded like Arden was simply saying the name because he wanted to. A moment of feeling later and that thought was confirmed.

“They say food’s ready.”

“…Mm…” The faint response as Arden started drifting off once more.

“Arden.” -Gabe sighed, slowly pulling his friend to the edge of the bed. The ritual then the trip had been exhausting, but he didn’t want anyone causing trouble for Arden if he slept through dinner. Luckily the dozing knight blinked awake again and clutched at Gabe’s shoulders, sitting up slowly and leaning heavily on his friend’s torso.

“…I wanted to keep dreaming about you,” the sleepy voice murmured. ”It was a nice dream.”

“It was.” -Gabe agreed, having already felt Arden’s contentment through their bond -”Aren’t you hungry?”

”What are you making today?” Arden still leaned against Gabe with his eyes closed, sitting almost on the hunter’s lap as he waited for sleep to slide away.

“I didn’t.”

“Hmm?”

“I didn’t cook. But there is dinner.”

It dawned then on Arden as the recent memories resurfaced that they weren’t home and they wouldn’t be for a long time. A pang of sadness shot through their bond before Arden sat up straight, rubbing sleep from his eyes with one hand while the other held on to Gabe’s. He felt a responding twang of fear as well, though he didn’t understand what for. Still he rubbed a thumb over Gabe’s knuckles.

”It’s okay. Let me straighten my clothes and we can have dinner. You must be hungry.”

“What about…clothes?” -Gabe looked up, barely a twitch in his stony expression, but Arden could feel fear and anxiety emanating from the other side of the bond. His concerns were justified, as they were still wearing their usual hunting garbs, and Arden had told him times and times again about the strict dress code in his dinner parties.

“This is all we have. If they don’t understand that, it’s a shame.” Arden reached up to stroke Gabe’s hair instinctively, the jolts of fear on the other end triggering an innate desire to help Gabe calm down. “Don’t worry. No matter what, I’ll be right here.”

“Alright.” -Gabe nodded -”There are new clothes in the wardrobe. If you want. For…appearance?” -It was one of those words that Gabe didn’t completely understand, but Arden had mentioned enough times in his stories. Wasn’t that important to noblemen?

“Would you like to wear them?” A glimmer of humor from the blonde.

“I don’t know.”- Gabe tilted his head -”What about you?”

“You’re so worried,” Arden replied, a small smile forming on his face. “Here, I’ll help you get dressed then.”

Gabe only nodded, fear now was replaced with anticipation and uncertainty. Arden had seen him naked before, certainly, and had dressed him as well, but that was in the safety of their small forest cottage and never with the worry of being judged. Sensing the concern, Arden ran a hand through Gabe’s hair again, combing down the stray strands and messy locks before undoing the laces of Gabe’s tunic and letting the hunter remove the top. First was the soft underclothing—fine white silk that went under an embroidered vest, the ruffled cuffs and neckline pulled over the outer shirt. Gold-buttoned trousers came next in black cotton, the ends tucked into knee-high boots inlaid with silver filigree, finished with extraneous, but attractive metallic spats. For the finishing touch, Arden wet his hands with a light spray of scented oil from their own bags, sculpting back the hunter’s unruly mane until it was a trim, low-hanging ponytail, the ends curled with a swift wrap around the fingers and release.

Stepping back, Arden took in the sight of Gabe’s archer physique in the ornamentation of the wealthy, sucking in a quick breath at the resulting rugged nobleman that stood in front of him.

After a moment though, he laughed.

“I think I like you better as just Gabe, really. But right now? You look like a king’s ransom.”

“What’s a king’s ransom?” -Gabe fiddled with the ruffled cuff on his left hand, wondering about their function. They felt entirely redundant to him, but then again, a lot of things noblemen did were.

“Something they would trade a king for,” Arden replied, stepping closer and running his hands over the curve of Gabe’s shoulder.

“Only you would do that.” -The hunter let him, comfortable with Arden’s touches -”You’re not a very good merchant, then.”

”Well, my family disowned me for a reason. I’m sure that’s part of it,” he replied, turning to look for his own clothes. Deciding he liked the idea of being thematically bonded as well, he donned a similar outfit, choosing faded green and earth tones to Gabe’s muted blue hues and dark grays.

“They didn’t know what they lost.”

“…You’re a silly sweet thing.” A bit of teasing on the tongue and Arden bowed, motioning for the door with a flourish. “Shall we dine, my king?”

That remark managed to draw out a small smile from the stoic Gabe.

“I’m no king.” -The hunter retorted, but he played along regardless, walking out with Arden at his side. However, the closer they got to the dining hall, the more nervous Gabe got. Almost instinctive, he inched closer to his friend, grabbing onto his arm as they walked.

His stomach was in knots by the time they found their seats, and Gabe just couldn’t stop watching the servants flitting back and forth through the doorway as if he wish he could just leave like them.

At least, there was food in front of them. More food that what he knew what to do with, actually. Were they to eat everything? Gabe picked up a fork and stabbed at a piece of sausage before bringing it to his mouth, eating intently. Maybe if he were eating, they would let him skip the introduction. Noticing his companion’s discomfort, Arden rubbed Gabe’s unoccupied hand in slow, soothing motions, remaining by his partner's side for the moment.

He leaned in with a whisper of “Even eating like that you look splendid,” the quiet compliment and half-joke sincere.

The only respond to the compliment was a flat look from Gabe, but through their bond, Arden could tell the hunter had calmed down quite a bit, turning back to his meal with fervor. The trip here had been tiring, and with so much food laid out in front of him, Gabe was determined to let none go to waste as Regis introduced Rose-Marie. The name didn't ring a bell for Arden, but, then again, he had been far from the social circles of nobility for a long time.

Deciding to take care of pleasantries sooner than later, Arden walked to his seat across from Gabe, turning to the gathered guests with a bow and his finest manners on display. “Good evening, my lords and ladies. I speak for both my partner and myself when I say we’re honored to be among those gathered here. This,” he gestured lightly towards Gabe, “is Gabriel of Marvik, a humble hunter. I am his knight, Arden…of Marvik.” The pause was a millisecond, but noticeable in the otherwise smooth delivery. “Our bond is ideal for reconnaissance and precision strikes at enemy forces, though we do boast raw strength should wanton destruction be required. I turn into Gabriel’s loyal beast—any creature within my mind’s grasp—-while he concentrates or dilutes the strength of my forms, among other things. We hope to be of service to Grenheim and its radiant future.”

Another bow followed and Arden seated himself, selecting choice cuts of meat to place on Gabe’s plate. “Did you want anything else?” he asked quietly, doting regardless of the setting.

Gabe only shook his head, mouth still occupied with an ungodly amount of meat and potato. The hunter quickly turned back to his plate then, hard at work to demolish the pile of meat Arden had put in front of him.

You should eat too. A flash of concern flashed through their bond though Do we have to eat everything? Arden’s laugh cleared out the worry. Of course not. Eat what you like.

With the assurance, Gabe was relaxed once more, and he hunched over the plate of food, wolfing down his portion with little regard for others at the table.

[Lasrever]

Alexei Ilyin-Melikov & Yulia Zykova

---

𝓝𝓸𝓿𝓮𝓶𝓫𝓮𝓻 𝟕𝓽𝓱, 𝟏𝟑𝟐𝟕 / / 𝓐𝓾𝓼𝓯𝓮𝓵𝓭 / / 𝓒𝓪𝓻𝓻𝓲𝓭𝓪𝓷'𝓼 𝓔𝓼𝓽𝓪𝓽𝓮

---

Politics was... tiring.

It had already proven to be a long day for the Margrave. In fact, it had felt like years since he had left the NBR. Every day since the beginning of this 'bond' business had been exhausting, for the uncertainty of it all if nothing else. The Alondeists had of course been trying to twist the situation to their own beliefs, but they were not the only ones in the world with prophecies, predictions, and interpretations. Still, toeing the line with them had been a reality for the NBR since joining with Grenheim, and it was nothing that he ultimately wasn't used to.

Of far more pressing concern however was Boris. He had just been accepted into the Royal Dragoons as a private- like his brothers before him- before the Emperor's order arrived. Alexei had not even been able to oversee the boy's first border patrol, and while he trusted Sergei to take care of himself there was no telling what might happen. Thankfully Nikolay was still years away from his service, but...

"Do you think he's all right? Even with Sergei there he's always had a temper, once his blood's up he might do something stupid."

It was the first Alexei had spoken in awhile, having spent a considerable amount of time adjusting his appearence since Yulia had announced she was ready to attend the dinner. If it were up to him, he wouldn't be fussing about such things, but he had a duty to be presentable as Margrave. He had heard nothing about the others involved in this bond business, and while the rest may be commoners, they might also all be nobles from the south- and southerner's seemed to love their appearances. With a sigh, he removed a 4th coat from the provided wardrobe and began trying it on- black trimmed with red.

Watching Alexei discard the coat, Yulia sighed. There was no need to remind him how little either of them could do from here - and she'd be lying if she were to say she didn't share his worries. Of course she didn't envy his position, knowing as well as anyone just how protective the Margrave was of his family; even she was anxious about having to leave them all behind at the Emperor's behest. Voicing those thoughts, however, would be of no help to either of them.

"Your men can be trusted, Alexei," she smiled reassuringly, "and I doubt their discipline would slip so badly. You know as well as I do that they won't let Boris do anything too regrettable even if he does try." Glancing down at her own finery, Yulia appeared far more content than her master about the approaching dinner - though even she had to admit it was all a little pompous. Her expression was faintly regretful as she continued.

"You're protective, that's all. I think we'd both rather be there for his safety than entertaining a gaggle of conceited southerners in the name of the church of Adondeus." May as well make the most of the opportunity to speak her mind in private, rather than harbouring any resentment that might show when they finally met their peers.

"Mm."

There wasn't much need of any other reply, he'd gotten the reassurance he'd been looking for from her. Instead he focused his attention once more on his attire, adjusting the cuffs on his wrist while looking over himself in the mirror. It was a far fancier sort of outfit than he would wear at his own estate- unless he was entertaining an important guest- but he supposed it was appropriate for an introduction to his new 'peers'. Afterwards he would need to find something less pompous to wear in public for the duration of his stay. Perhaps some sort of military uniform...

"I'm not convinced the Church is wrong about the importance of these new bonds- even if they are misguided in their interpretation. If we're somehow to stop some sort of disaster it's best that we're protecting them by being here."

With a nod that was directed at both Yulia and his own reflection, he finished ajusting the new coat, satisfied. Finally- after a moment of uncertainty- he grabbed his sword as well. The politeness of walking around armed varied in the south, but in the NBR it was expected of every officer in the military to carry his sword- whether meant for combat or dress- to official functions. The Margrave was no exception. If these southerners were offended then so be it, he couldn't imagine the faux pas actually damaging his reputation any.

"I'll still be happy enough when this trip is over with- though I must say escaping the winter for once will be a nice change. We're fortunate that we're not stuck down here in the summer."

"I imagine this should all be far behind us by then, important or otherwise." Yulia chuckled lightly, stepping back to allow Alexei to lead the way. It wouldn't really do for her to be going on ahead, after all. Still, thinking ahead to the dinner, she gave him a look of concern.

"Might I suggest we keep to the traditional introductions once we arrive? I've heard the southerners are fond of their titles, but it might be pertinent not to advertise your importance too soon." There were a lot of unknown factors here, and while Yulia - barbed remarks aside - was far more eager to make their acquaintance than Alexei... she also knew the potential danger that the unfamiliar could pose.

"Anyone of proper status should know you well enough regardless," she glanced at him, "and it's easier for me to greet those who aren't if they don't feel worried about nobility."

"I had no intention of straying that far from tradition, Yulia."

His tone was slightly reproachful- it was not her place to suggest how he act as the office of Margrave, and it wouldn't do to let her tone relax too much so far away away from the north. At his own estate, away from outsiders, familiarity with the servants was fine to an extent. However, from what he'd seen their temporary home had a good many eyes and ears and he would not be tolerating any unseemly rumors or gossip.

Not that it made her wrong of course. Already he wore the signent ring (The Ilyin eagle and Melikov dragon, joining claws and spreading their wings) that identified exactly who he was, a ring familiar to any of the upper nobility in Grenheim. Such rings were common amongst all nobles of the NBR, who as a rule detested long winded introductions and social grandstanding. The ring introduced the wearer. Anybody important enough to recognize it already knew to pay the proper respects to its owner- and anybody else could quickly be identified and avoided.

Finally, with one last look in the mirror Alexei made his way past Yulia and closed the door to his room behind him. With any luck this dinner would be over quickly and he would soon be able to return and rest, alone with his thoughts.

"Well, let's go get this over with then, I can't say I'm not curious to see who we're going to be stuck with here."

"Of course. I apologise." Yulia replied, her expression becoming noticeably subdued as she nodded. He was right, after all; it wouldn't do to forget her place in such an environment, and the reminder would do her good. Especially with the introductions that were doubtless to come. To say she owed him at least that much would have been an understatement of absurd proportions.

So she'd waited in silence as he finished preparing, her smile deliberately distant. At the very least, they weren't deviating from tradition; that was all that she ultimately needed to know. "We can only hope they'll be good company, then." She glanced down the corridor as they exited the room, waiting for him to lead the way. "After you, Margrave."

---

The dinner gathering was... interesting, if nothing else. There were at least two faces Alexei recognized from those present: The general Carridan, and the Marquis d'Agneaux. The latter of which was a particular surprise, given what he could tell of the social standing of most of the rest of the bonded. They were, of course, acquainted in light of their roles within the Empire, but he couldn't say they knew each other very well at all. She would at least be company he could share without lowering lowering himself to the level of the commoners.

A fact he was grateful for.

Still, as introductions began he kept an ear open but chose to eye the food on the table rather than the faces of the other guests. While not unexpected in such a multiethnic empire: The selection was surprisingly diverse if not of the grandest quality available. In particular he, of course, noted dished from the NBR. Particularly Dressed Herring and Shaurma, two noted favorites of the Margrave. Though normally in his own realm he would not hesitate to begin eating, for now he was in the south and would pay respect to their stiff ideas of courtesy.

Speaking of which, it was as the young man- Arden as he called himself- finished speaking that a small silence fell over the table. So far, they had seemed to be moving down in a fairly orderly fashion for introductions. That meant that Alexei and Yulia were next, and it was time to make a decision just how much of the southern idea of courtesy he was willing to give in to. The ring on his leftmost little finger gave all the introduction that was ever needed in the north. Still...

For a moment he locked eyes with his bonded across the table, as if coming to a silent decision with her, before nodding. Not bothering to stand- he called out simply, but firmly:

"Alexei."

"Yulia."

She spoke more gently than the Margrave, but her voice was still heard easily enough. However, out of the two she appeared by far the friendlier, her soft smile appearing genuine if somewhat reserved. Happy enough with her introduction, she served herself a reasonable portion - large enough to appear appreciative, small enough not to appear greedy. Not that she'd start until it seemed polite, of course. As for their company...

Personally, she cared little for their backgrounds or social importance, and it would make little difference to her own judgements on their character. That being said, it was a relief that at least there was someone here Alexei might bother to entertain - the man's fixation with duty would be the death of him. Not that it was her place to speak on such matters, of course.

So Yulia remained silent and smiling politely, waiting for the introductions to continue.

[Pink Khione]

TLDR; The twins take forever to get up & some Lottie abuse

When a line of carriages arrived to pick up Lottie Rue and Lenore Renee Clairemont, the sun had just barely rose above the horizon. Mornings were not kind to either girls, especially in Lottie’s case, who took a notoriously long time to get out of bed. The churchmen and coachmen in the carriages were invited inside with haste - though a few refused the offer - and received apologies from the parents for the girls’ tardiness. They knew it’d take much more time before the girls were ready to go, and thus brewed some warm tea for the men.

Their mother walked up to the twins’ room on the second floor while their father tended to the guests. She gave the wooden door a sturdy knock, opening it before receiving a reply. “Girls, wake up!” The woman entered the room to pull the curtains apart, allowing streams of sunlight to claw at the twins’ eyes before returning to the doorframe. “Today’s not the morning to be sleeping in when the entire nation is waiting on you.”

The sisters’ room was quaint, but sizable enough for two twin sized beds positioned in the center with a nightstand between them, and two vanities on each side. Two medium-sized shelves stood next to their vanities, one holding boxes of paper, spools of thread, needles, and adhesives, while the other stored cosmetics, jewelry boxes and other pretty things. Lenore glanced up from the blanket that draped over her shoulders, staring at the figure in the doorway for a moment before letting out a groan. Sluggishly, she lifted herself up as if pulled against her will by an unseen force, and attempted to rub the blinding light out of her eyes. Her sister, of course, was still buried in her bed, immune to their mother’s loud yapping after so many years of being yelled at to wake up.

At the foot of Lenore’s bed was a medium sized suitcase, packed the night before. A wave of anxiety suddenly hit her in the gut. Up until now, the conscription order felt like an event in the far-off future, a feeling similar to when adults would tell you how marriage and motherhood are like. The realization that her life would change drastically from now on didn’t sit comfortably with Lenore. She felt like a child, thrown in a new world with new rules and things she won’t understand.

On the other hand, Lottie had spent her remaining days at the inn as usual - waking up late, tending to her chores, and making paper crafts in the evening. Much like with her responsibilities, she was prone to ignoring her worries and pretended as if this day will never happen. Thus, this morning came as a surprise - a surprise of the worst kind.

Fully awake now, Lenore got up and walked one step to get to the side of her sister’s bed. She took the book left on the nightstand between their beds and used it as a mallet, whacking her sister in the head. “Wake up!”

Lottie groaned and buried her head into the sheets, earning herself another wack - and another. It was routine by now for the younger twin to sleep in for another few hours so it was in her instinct to resist. Lenore flung the covers off, dragging Lottie, who has clung to it, onto the floor with a thump. By now, their mother had already returned downstairs, leaving the sisters to their usual morning scuffle.

Lenore shook the blanket a few times, in attempts to free it from her sister’s grasp. “For god’s sake, LET GO!” She huffed; it was a bigger challenge to wake her sister up in the morning than any other task Lenore has ever done.

“No! Let me return to my slumber, dear sister!”

After a bit of a wrestle, Lottie loosened her grip and slowly pulled herself up. Lenore, satisfied with her hard work, released her grasp on the blanket, allowing it to fall onto the floor. She quickly attended to her usual morning routine at her vanity, taking out small compacts of powders and rouge. While her sister busied herself, Lottie sat in a daze, staring at the floor with half-opened eyes to avoid the sun’s glare.

Patting a nude powder onto her cheek, Lenore looked over to her seemingly intoxicated sibling, “What are you planning to wear Lottie, for your final day in Delfore?”

Lottie stood up. She gazed at an empty space in their room, unashamed of her silence. It was there she saw herself surrounded by an array of her crafting material, folding, threading, and humming away. “I shall wear black. To mourn the days of bliss and peace that are now behind us.”

Lottie passed the vanity where her sister sat; cosmetics were things her sloth-like self refused to touch. She opened the closet and gaped at the row of dresses inside, tempted to bury her face into the mass of silky cloth.

“What a wonderful idea!” Lenore placed her makeup sponge back onto the powder compact, gleefully swinging around to her wardrobe. She gave her sister, whose face was in the way, a nonchalant push to allow herself access to her clothes. Scanning through the many hangers, Lenore searched for a moment before pulling out her favourite black robe, and a hair ribbon to match. “Perfect.” Lottie eventually chose what to wear as well, although much more slowly, as Lenore continued a meticulous application of makeup on her face.

The presence of the men chatting downstairs did little to hasten the girls, who took their time as usual. Surely the men were growing impatient, but the concerns of others normally mattered little to the siblings, one who was much too self-absorbed, and the other much too lazy. When they finally appeared with their bags in tow, the men had finished several pots of tea.

---

The journey to Ausfeld was rough. The twins had underestimated the distance between their hometown and new residence, but nevertheless endured the long trip. As their carriages pulled in front the mansion of Dalgen Carridan a little after noon, Lenore and Lottie dawned their black cloaks to shield themselves from the cold - the biting air was something they’ve not experienced in southern region of Delfore. Their capes had a spacious hood and the hem ended just above their ankles, with two slits on the sides to let their arms to poke through. Foreign-styled sapphire brooches clasped their capes together between their collarbones. With the way they adorned themselves from head to toe in black, their arrival looked more like a funeral procession than the arrival of a celestial pair.

Upon entering the large estate, the twins were greeted by the general himself. He exchanged a few pleasantries with the girls, though Lenore remained wary of the man she knew would be their trainer. Given her total lack of combat experience and her aversion to pain, it seemed unlikely that she’d warm up to the person in charge of the training sessions. Lottie paid little mind to the man, only acknowledging his presence when spoken to with a sweet smile and lavishly dressed words. She focused most of her energy on carrying herself graciously and pondering at what will become of her in their new life - the step after mourning her old one. Afterwards, they were quickly sent off with some servants for a tour of the premises.

Leading the twins away from Carridan, one servant asked if they would like to share a room or reside in separate ones. They looked at each other, blinking.

Lottie knew immediately what she wanted. Since they were small, they’ve slept and woke in the same room. Being alone and being alone with her sister was the same to her; only without her sister, mornings would go by without Lottie budging an inch from her bed. “Oh we must share. I could not bare the thought of being without my dearest other half,” she turned to Lenore and held her hand, satisfied with her bit of melodrama, playing up their spiritually bonded status.

While the thought of her own room seemed enticing to Lenore, they’ve always shared one room to allocate more space in the inn for guests. With so many new changes being thrown at her in one day, Lenore appreciated that one thing could remain the same. She nodded in agreement with her sister, smiling, “As long as the room itself is spacious - I won’t settle for anything less.”

Some servants scurried off after receiving the answer and their tour continued. The kitchen and dining hall looked very nice; it was where they were going to meet all the other pairs officially later that night. The tour guides informed them that dinner will be served at seven that evening, but they can also call servants to prepare meals at any time. They were advised, however, against it for now because of the night’s events. Unsurprisingly, Lottie was delighted to hear about such a service. She was already ready to ask for some tea and pastries once they are dismissed to their living quarters.

The following area they were lead to were the gardens. It was a magical marvel, filled with colorful arrays of flowers and plants, some of which the girls have not even seen before, and hedges and other vegetation which stood proud against the winter chill. The arrangement of everything seemed carefully planned, creating a calm, relaxing aura. Lenore’s eyes lingered on the maze of trimmed hedges; it would no doubt be an area she’d explore extensively. Lottie on the other hand, took interest in the flowers or rather, how they would look with her sculptures.

“Say, dear sister. As lovely as this garden is, it is sorely lacking in something. Perhaps, it could use a hand...or several hands!”

Lenore held one of the flowers gently between her fingers, leaning in to catch its scent. She pproceeded to laugh at the image of disembodied papercraft hands extruding from the flowerbeds. “It would make for a good scare. I’ll help and paint them red.”

The tour within the mansion was less exciting. Both first and second floors had some off-limit areas, with storage spaces sprinkled around the premises. The second floor, where their rooms were located, had hallways of unused rooms, though a few in particular felt warmer, prepared to be lived in.

Promptly, the twins were lead into their new, shared room, and informed of the bell mounted on the walls used to make requests. Lenore giggled. The thought of servants tending to her every call made her heart flutter. Lottie was pleased as well, if only because she would have the freedom to do even less. She humored the idea of having people carry her everywhere, averting her gaze from the servants to hide a mischievous grin.

The twins entered the room, placing their bags on their usual sides of the room - Lenore had always been on the left side, and Lottie on the right. The luxurious and high-class quality of all the items and furniture in the room made the twins feel as if they were being pampered like little aristocrats. While their family was doing okay financially, the twins still did not have the excessive wealth needed to afford these higher quality items. Lottie however, was just happy to settle down and relax. She dropped her luggage and tossed herself onto her new bed. The room was spacious enough, allowing Lenore to twirl a few times in the generous gap between her bed and desk. Satisfied, she opened the suitcase on the floor and began unloading her clothes into the wardrobe. Meanwhile, her sister’s belongings remained comfortably in her carrier while she herself seemed content with only having a place to rest for the time being.

Much to Lenore’s surprise, there were several items already placed inside the wardrobe when she tried to put away her things. “What’s this?” She pulled one of the hangers out - it was a lavish dress, tinted in a desaturated lilac with a dark grey skirt. The dress looked like something that could’ve came from Lenore’s own closet, with a tight bodice and belt that cinch the waist and draped sleeves that almost graze the floor. Looking through the other few items in the wardrobe, it was evident they were made to suit her tastes. “These dresses are beautiful!” Lenore immediately held them against her figure as she stood in front of the mirror, envisioning how the dresses would look on her when she wore them.

Lottie stirred from all the noise her sister was making. As wonderful as it is to lie on the soft, silky mattress, Lenore’s frollicking piqued her curiosity. She lugged over to the wardrobe on her side of the bedroom and took a look for herself. She too was pleasantly surprised by the contents of the closet - though a bit miffed she wasn’t told beforehand so she didn’t have to pack her own clothes.

What interested her more was the food service. Lottie has been pining for a hot drink and some sweets. The fact that dinner will be served later that night did not deter her; she would need the energy to put away all her belongings after all. While Lenore reveled in her fresh new set of garments, Lottie rung the bell and clapped her hands in excitement, peering down the hall in anticipation.

Satisfied that her things were now put away neatly in the various storage units in the room, Lenore jumped into her bed, enjoying the opulent texture of the sheets. No wonder Lottie is glued to this bed. In the silence of the room, Lenore could hear faintly the murmurs of voices emanating through the walls from the other rooms.

“Say, Lottie, who do you think the other pairs are?” Lenore gave the wall separating her room from another’s with a vacant stare. “There’s probably a variety of creatures we’ll meet tonight. I care not for their social class, but they might care for ours.” Lenore’s eyes narrowed, remembering a few of the more unsavory encounters she had in her father’s line of business - pompous pricks who believed social class determined everything. Then again, peasants were not always better either.

“But sister, I believe we have the same rooms, same beds, and clothes made from the same caliber. If some nobleman judges us, I shall laugh at them,” Lottie said, still peering down the hall, not worrying if she was heard by others. Back at the inn, there was little that frustrated her more than having to humour and smile at disagreeable people. At the mansion, however, there was less of a need to hide their disgust. “Oh! I see the servant down the hall!”

The servant, a lanky girl not much older than the twins, gave a slight bow to the silver-headed mage. “How may I of service to you, miss?”

“Ah yes! I was told on the tour that we may request meals to be prepared for us.”

The servant nodded. “You are correct miss, meals will be prepared and served at the kitchen.”

“At the kitchen? That’s such a long walk! Pardon my manners, but I don’t want anything anymore. You are dismissed,” Lottie huffed and shut the door.

Lenore snickered, “This is a good thing. You’re getting fat.”

“Hmph!” Her sister pouted at the remark. Lenore often poked fun of her mediocre figure - compared to her own - but Lottie had little reason to protest.

“It’s fine,” Lenore spoke, a light laughter still hanging on her words. She could feel that her sister was not as offended as she made it look, but tried to lift the mood anyway. “Dinner’s ready soon enough. By the time you’ve cleaned up your things and change you’d be able to eat.”

It had hardly been long since the twins acquired their magical bond, but the two could feel from each other that neither of them would be getting used to it soon. They’ve always been able to empathize well with one another - call it ‘twin telepathy’ perhaps - but with the addition of the bond, their feelings and thoughts almost became mixed. They were cognisant of which feelings were their own, but when Lottie felt one way, Lenore would feel it too, almost adopting the emotion into her own mind. While they never spoke of it in words, they both knew they shared the same uneasy thoughts of having become more as one entity than separate beings.

---

As dinner approached, the twins changed into two of the more extravagant pieces offered in their closets to present themselves well to the dinner’s hosts. It was perhaps an old habit from their days at the inn - their parents always emphasized the importance of first impressions, especially for those of the middle class like them. Their garments were still black however, both of the twins still adamant on mourning their previous lives - they were teenagers with a flair for the dramatic afterall. They arrived to the dining table not early nor late, taking their places while waiting for the rest of the pairs to come. There was light chatter among those present, between the pairs themselves and the churchmen who sat with them.

Lenore could feel a hunger growing in her stomach. Lottie’s seemed to be growing even larger. They cared not for the introductions of the religious members, taking that time to fill their plates with the heaps of food strewn across the table. Some other pairs had also began eating, so the sisters took that as their cue to dig in as well. Lenore and Lottie grew up learning about the Church of Adondeus but their family had never been the pious type, though they’d utter religious sayings from time to time to keep up appearances.

When Lysandra finished her introduction, Lenore felt slightly troubled. While romance as a magic focus was interesting, some ideas of what kind of spells Lysandra could use worried her. Lenore did not want her feelings played with, especially not in a romantic sort of way, and it looked to her that most of the pairs present were too immersed in each other to care about anyone else.

Lottie then felt something intrude her mind and body. It was a worry, about Lysandra’s romance magic, but not of her own; she was fixated on the dinner - half paying attention to the crass woman at most. It was then she realized. This was a side effect of their spiritual bond, and the worry belonged to Lenore. Lottie had mixed feelings about this. While the two were very close and can understand each other better than anyone, having her thoughts shared didn’t sit perfectly well with her at the moment. Regardless, she couldn’t help but agree with her sister about Lysandra. She’d hate to be forcefully involved in someone else’s affairs.

The first pair to introduce themselves was not the pair, but the servant of the two. He said his name was Regis, the ever so faithful servant of his master, Rose-Marie. Lenore and Lottie snickered - what a sight. Scanning through the rest of the party guests, it appeared that Rose-Marie was not the only noble willing to lower herself to a partnership with a peasant.

“How absolutely disgraceful,” Lenore remarked mockingly, giving her sister a sly smile. The volume of her words was carefully managed, soft yet loud enough for those around her to pick up on her words. A slight giggle escaped her lips, “It’s hard to imagine a person of noble status would go around cavorting with a peasant.”

Lottie covered her mouth and chuckled, though her hand did little to hide her impish grin. “Dear sister, we mustn't judge. What they do behind closed doors is their business,” she said, in a fictitiously coy manner.

While the sisters dwelled jovially in their jests, the next pair introduced themselves. Again with the next pair, only one of the two introduced them both. Arden of Marvik avoided bringing social class into his monologue but the way he spoke with poise and impeccable conduct was rare in lower social rings. It was obvious to Lenore, however, that his rugged and chiseled friend was not taught to act as refined as Arden. “It seems there’s yet another pair of such nature,” Lenore spoke in a more hushed voice, giving Lottie a shrewd gaze and raised eyebrows. She took a grape from the table and popped it in her mouth.

Her sister discreetly wiped her mouth with a napkin and gazed at the diametric pair. One treating their dinner like a starved wolf to its prey, and the other being oddly receptive - amused even - of his behaviour. “Perhaps...not quite the same nature. The way the rugged man acts doesn’t speak ‘servant’ to me,” she observed, “look, don’t their mannerisms suggest a different relationship?”

“Hush now, that’s not how a lady should speak,” Lenore teased, unable to hold back a chuckle. Aside from the nature of the pair’s relationship, Arden’s magical abilities interested her as well. She made a mental note to ask if he’d turn into a puppy or kitten someday.

The next pair introduced themselves on their own, finally, though they left much to be desired after only providing the guests with their first names. Even the nameplates sitting in front of them did a better job at their introductions. Perhaps the fancy ring on Alexei’s finger was symbolic of his heritage - the twins remembered hearing that such traditions were common in northern houses - though there was no trinket available to identify his partner by.

Lenore put on a troubled expression, though a smile clawed at the end of her lips. “My, adults sure have a way of dulling the atmosphere.”

“Oh good, I’ll be in need of a nap soon,” Lottie yawned.

I suppose we should get our introductions in too, Lenore gave Lottie a look, and it seemed like she understood. They abruptly stood up at once, signalling to their audience it was their turn to speak.

“Lenore.”

“Lottie.”

And then the pair dropped back into their seats. Only a few seconds of silence passed by before the two erupted into laughter, too absorbed in their own amusement to bother with what their hosts may be thinking of them. They stood back up.

Lenore managed to compose herself enough to speak in between giggles, “Just kidding.”

“We’re Lottie and Lenore Clairemont.”

They spoke in unison as a throwback to better days. The inn’s guests loved their acts of mimicry, and it became something they were told to do on the daily during their childhood.

Unlike Arden’s passionate and patriotic speech, the twins opted for something much less dignified. “We didn’t really ask to be here,” Lenore started.

“But we might as well have fun with while it lasts.”

“Magic is a wonderful perk though.”

Lottie nodded her head in agreement, “Never thought an innkeeper’s daughters would be part of something so grand!”

The daring twins ended their short discourse with snickering, taking their seats again to return to their meals.

[banjoanjo]

---

𝓝𝓸𝓿𝓮𝓶𝓫𝓮𝓻 𝟕𝓽𝓱, 𝟏𝟑𝟐𝟕 / / 𝓐𝓾𝓼𝓯𝓮𝓵𝓭 / / 𝓒𝓪𝓻𝓻𝓲𝓭𝓪𝓷'𝓼 𝓔𝓼𝓽𝓪𝓽𝓮 / / 𝓜𝓸𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰

---

Word limit? Restraint? Never heard of them.

Wren was downright restless inside the carriage, pacing from one window to the next and stopping only every so often to try and scratch at her newly acquired mark. With each step, the trinkets around her neck clacked together like little wooden chimes. She missed the birds. She missed the trees. She missed the air. Was it stuffy in here, or was it just her? It was stuffy. Super stuffy. Why did they have to wait inside this thing? Why were there so many people outside?

Defeated and overwhelmed, Wren finally threw herself back onto the seat, propping her elbows up on the ridiculously huge bag of belongings she'd insisted on bringing. She stared out the window and felt a tiny sense of calm at the sight of the sky, but she still didn't like it. She didn't like any of this. But she liked Amelie and apparently that had been enough. Gee, when did she ever get to be so stupid?

Wren scrunched up her nose and sniffled in annoyance, briefly running her pinky along the inside of one nostril and disposing of the offending booger before burying her face in her bag. A barely audible sound of disapproval vibrated from Wren's throat.

Stifling a chuckle, Amelie fetched her handkerchief and reached over to properly dispose of her partner's booger. She'd noticed the Sixths' expressions when they caught sight of the forest-dweller. There was one in particular whose nose kept flaring and whose mouth had turned into a perfectly horizontal line as soon as Wren entered. The line seemed to thin with every passing second.

"It is rather cramped in here, huh?" Amelie whispered to Wren placatingly, folding away the handkerchief.

Wren lifted her head and glanced at Amelie, just long enough to roll her eyes and nod before resting her cheek against the bag. She still didn't get it. Amelie was so excited to come here. An emperor, a war, a bond, a ritual. Just a few of the words she'd heard repeated over the last several days and still she had no idea what any of it had to do with Balwyn Forest. A forest was a forest no matter who thought they owned it. Amelie could have just lived with her.

But nooo.

"I can't breathe," was all that Wren muttered, feeling it was the best way to describe her current predicament.

Amelie looked out the window, trying to observe the quality of the paving as the horses trotted towards their destination. The sound of their steps had definitely been changing as they got closer to their destination.

"We're definitely almost there. If it's the stuffiness you're worried about..."

The brunette reached for the window knob, only to find that it was jammed. Wren perked up, hat seeming to look a bit less droopy at the idea of an open window. She eagerly watched her friend fiddle with the contraption. A few further rattles provided no result.

"Oh. Well, maybe I can..."

Her roaming hand turned the carriage door open, trying to crack it open slightly. The breeze might have been relaxing, had it not wrenched the handle out of her hand and sent the entire door slamming open with a loud thud. Wind rushed through, sending strands of hair into her face and any loose petals on Wren's arrangement flying around in a whirl. Amelie winced when the accompanying Sixth shouted from behind them.

Wren cringed at the loud bang, but scurried over the moment she noticed the open doorway. Completely unphased by the displeased shouting, Wren promptly snuck around Amelie (close, but never touching), stuck her nose out into the open air, and inhaled gratefully. She gripped the doorframe tightly and stayed there, simply breathing with her eyes closed for a moment before she opened them to see the large estate. A massive gate, which to Wren seemed obnoxiously unnecessary, loomed at the entrance up ahead.

"Woah. We're...we're actually here!"

Amelie, too, leaned out the doorway, admiring the sheer size and splendor of the estate as the horses slowed at the gate. As the driver conversed with the gatekeepers, the Sixth hurried over to the empowered bond. He implored them to stay put through half-breaths, somehow having gotten himself winded by his panic and the rush over.

"Uhhhh," Amelie looked to Wren, "He wants us to close the door."

Wren wrinkled her nose, quickly turning to look down at the man who was making the request. The carriage granted her some height, serving as something of a reminder. She and Amelie were important, weren't they? Isn't that why THEY needed THEM to save the kingdom?

Wren glared down her nose at the man before positioning herself more squarely in the doorway, evidently preparing to exit.

"Any chance we can walk the rest of the way, sir?" Amelie shrugged in response to the man's exasperated expression. She knew full well what Wren's intentions were.

The only response was a dumbfounded stare.

'Any chance'? Wren looked between Amelie and the man for a moment. The reasoning seemed sound and she was happy to prove it. She promptly hopped down from the carriage, feeling the refreshing texture of solid ground through the thinly worn sections of leather beneath her boots. Wren took a few steps and then immediately turned to ensure Amelie survived the small jump from the carriage.

Survive, she did. The Celestial Knight wasn't just going to let her partner wander around a strange new location all by herself. As she hopped down, the lion-headed gates began to open, revealing more of the most beautiful garden she'd ever laid eyes on. The guards seemed occupied with the drivers ahead.

"Please," the Sixth panted, "I implore you. Just return to your carriage."

"I..." Amelie glanced at the garden, having a very good feeling about what her partner was about to do.

Wren turned to face the gate as soon as Amelie safely touched the ground. Her mouth fell open and she stared, stepping forward like a moth drawn to light. One hand pressed over her heart, Wren looked from one flower to the next. There were so many! And such variety! Flowers she'd never seen more than once! Flowers she'd only seen in Amelie's books! Flowers flowers flowers! And the smell was amazing.

She stopped just short of the gate, regarding the large metal contraption with an irritated snort.

"Wren, don't stand too close to the horses," Amelie called out, her gaze following the short girl. With dismay, she spotted the guards beginning to open the gate, with Wren standing right before them. "Oh, sirs, that might not--"

"Yes, she should get away from the barn animals," the churchman sniffed, "Even if she fits in right among them."

Immediately, Amelie's mouth shut. Her expression froze into a hurt glare. It didn't seem like their escort appreciated them very much.

The gates finally opened.

Wren staggered back, narrowly avoiding the horses and left with a scarce chance to respond to the churchman's insult. Back at Amelie's side, she managed a hateful scowl before evidently deciding he wasn't worth the time. Her attention returned to what lied beyond the gate, eagerly waiting for a chance to rummage through the garden.

She looked to Amelie, coal black eyes shimmering with excitement. This having been the first truly great thing to happen so far, she fully expected her friend to appreciate it properly.

Amelie maintained her glare. Her father had warned her about city folk, that her disposition would have them walk all over her if she wasn't careful. Add 'that walking bird's nest' to the mix and it would make things harder on herself. It had only been a warning, not an instruction, thankfully. Amelie squirmed, unsure of what to do with this sudden frustration. Part of her wanted to grab Wren's wrist and run through those open gates just to spite the man who'd insulted her friend without even trying to understand. But those guards had weapons. Very sharp ones. But even if they were weaponless, Amelie doubted she'd be able to summon the will to rush past them. After all, why hadn't she said anything to the Sixth?

The brunette's fist curled as she glanced at Wren, her eagerness, and all at once the dark feelings fell away. Right. They were here for a reason. Forcing a smile back on her face, she began climbing back onto the carriage.

"W-we're keeping the door open," she declared, failing to produce a defiant tone, "C'mon up, Wren. Just a bit longer."

"Tch," crestfallen, but more so shocked, Wren looked at the garden longingly for a moment before grumpily following after Amelie. At least the door was open. Wren took her seat on the floor of the carriage, dangling one foot out the door as she continued to admire the flowers from afar. It wasn't like her current arrangement was close to death or anything, but.... She'd have to be downright nuts to pass up an opportunity like this one.

Evidently Wren's perception of how long they'd be staying there was severely warped. "The blue ones," Wren said suddenly, peeking at Amelie out of the corner of her eye. Wren recognized them from Amelie's book, but couldn't procure a name.

"Delphiniums," Amelie recited the name, momentarily snapped out of her funk. Of course, Wren was still fixated on the flowers. She always knew what she wanted. Amelie glanced back at her partner, then out the door.

To hell with it.

She murmured so the churchman wouldn't notice, "You can always wait until we're past the gate."

"Delphiniums," Wren repeated to herself, even though she knew she'd never remember. There wasn't any need to anyway. Amelie would always be there to tell her again.

Wren leaned back on her arms, perking up once more at Amelie's suggestion. She turned to her partner with a mischevious smirk and a short nod, though impatience continued to fester inside.

---

Well, it was pretty clear that the servants were not their biggest fans.

Amelie flopped onto the bed with a sigh, watching idly as Wren meticulously adjusted the flowers on her hat. Her own bed, of course. Wren's was on the other side of the room they shared. Her request, since Wren didn't seem to mind. The faces the servants had worn when they could finally leave the empowered duo to their lodgings wasn't something she'd forget anytime soon. Rather rude, for sure, but she couldn't exactly blame them. The garden tour had barely fallen short of a disaster that would have gotten the two of them evicted by Carridan himself. And Amelie didn't even want to recall what had transpired in the kitchen.

These weren't complaints, mind you. Amelie knew what she had signed up for when the two of them performed the ceremony. Rocky beginnings were to be expected. And maybe most of this was her fault, dragging them so far from the fields of Balwyn. Taking Wren along on something that was based solely on her own whims and dropping the both of them so far out of their comfort zones.

No. No, they hadn't even finished their first day. She just needed to stay positive and work harder. Two things she excelled at, especially when Wren was by her side.

With new invigoration, she sat up.

"How are you feeling about this place? Like, the whole place."

Wren methodically returned her hat to her head before looking up at Amelie. She pursed her lips and cocked her head to one side-- a tell-tale sign that she was thinking a little harder than usual.

"Smells nice, I guess... Don't like the people... and there are too many--" Walls. Doors. Rooms.

The mansion was like a maze. If not for their bedroom window and Amelie, Wren was certain she wouldn't be able to sleep here. As it were, Wren couldn't help but feel anxious in such a new environment. Even a little trapped. But the last thing she wanted to do was look weak-- even in front of Amelie. So instead she waved her hand above her head, vaguely motioning to all the decor for which she couldn't find the word.

"Fancy..." she finally settled on.

"Yes, the people are rather...uh..." Amelie probably shouldn't have put so much effort into finding one word, "perplexing."

Her gaze moved to the window, the tree next to it. Would Wren be able to get to it safely at night?

"Is it a good or bad fancy?"

Wren shrugged, eyeing all the different things inside their room that constituted as fancy. "They're pretty, I guess but... kinda... stuffy...." She was referring, of course, to the mansion as a whole, but decided to leave it at that.

"Mmyeah," Amelie moved to open the window. The tree was a bit of a jump from the ledge but otherwise nothing her partner couldn't handle. "Nothing really compares to home, huh?"

"Yeah," Wren agreed, standing up to follow Amelie to the window. She stared outside curiously.

A knock on the door and a soft voice informed them that dinner was to be served soon. And with that, the first gathering of the Celestial Bonds.

"Oh, the others..."

She began rooting through the dresser, sorting through the provided garments. Meanwhile, Wren moved closer to the freshly opened window, sticking her head out so far her toes didn't touch the floor. She dangled there for a moment, contentedly kicking her feet before the sudden growling of her stomach sent her back inside. She looked expectedly at Amelie, who still seemed fixated on the clothes in the dresser.

"We'll be having dinner soon," Amelie smiled back and held aloft two expensive looking dresses. "I think they want us to dress up for the occasion."

Wren immediately frowned, stepping forward to inspect them. She leaned over and pinched the fabric gingerly, rolling it between her fingers.

"Looks itchy," she surmised. "Is this a... requirement?"

Wren frowned again. She had heard that word tossed around a lot lately. And had decided quite quickly that it wasn't one she liked. Just barely visible from beneath the brim of her had, Wren's dark eyes met with Amelie's.

There was no pleading in them, but Amelie knew by now that when Wren asked if something was a requirement, she didn't want to do it. But she would. She would do it for Amelie.

Wren subconsciously itched at her mark.

Amelie had to think it over.

She wasn't ashamed of her relationship with Wren, nor of Wren herself. But she'd heard the servant's whispers. Seen the other groups that were touring the estate at the same time as them. There was going to be a fair amount of nobility present. They, even moreso Amelie, had duties to fulfill where the upper classes were concerned. This first impression had to count.

"I'm afraid it is," the brunette sighed, knowing how much they both disliked that word.

Wren sighed through her nose, dipping her head towards the ground just enough so that her eyes were no longer visible. She held both arms out for the dress in question.

Amelie handed the dress over with a rueful smile, sniffing the air while she did. Oh dear. There definitely wasn't enough time for a bath. None that would entirely erase Wren's, uh, distinctive scent anyway. They'd need a whole week for such a daring endeavor.

Amelie took another quick breath. Hm. On second thought, this was one of her better days. Hopefully the other guests wouldn't mind it too much.

"Tell you what," Amelie said as she began hurriedly undressing, knowing that there would be quite the figurative storm ahead, "as soon as we're done with everything around dinner, we'll go straight to one of the gardens. Get some of those delphiniums for you."

Wren walked towards her allotted bed, holding the dress out in front of her like a live snake. Tossing it on the comfortor, she carefully removed her cloak and vest. Small crumbs of dirt and leaves fell to the floor. Her clothing was clearly unaccostumed to being removed. Stopping at her tunic, Wren set aside her hat and began searching the dress for the opening through which she was meant to put it on.

By the time Amelie had voiced her suggestion, Wren was throroughly tangled. One of the feather braids in her hair had crossed a lace somewhere, and one arm was sticking out of its proper sleeve while the other seemed bent and pinned to the side of her face. She wriggled and squirmed in stubborn silence.

Half-done with tying her dress, Amelie stifled a giggle.

"There's no shame in asking for help," she remarked. Using her thumb and forefinger to minimise contact, she tugged at alternating sections of the dress until Wren finally fit comfortably.

Wren didn't comment; her opinion on asking for help was quite sound. She would have untangled herself eventually. Her mouth thinned into a small line as she immediately looked down at the dress, turning her arms every which way and straining to see over her shoulder. It didn't fit right with her tunic and feathers underneath, but at least she was wearing it. That was enough, right? She gave Amelie a curt nod of thanks before putting both her hat and cloak back on and waiting at the door.

Putting the finishing touches on her braid, Amelie looked the forest dweller up and down. It...wasn't great, admittedly, but it was the best they would probably be able to do on short notice. There was still plenty of concern about the other guests but...

Amelie squared her shoulders.

They could do this. They could do anything together. It wasn't like they were completely unpresentable. Her sister always said it was what's on the inside that mattered. As long as the guests had open minds and down-to-earth dispositions, it shouldn't be too awkward.

---

Amelie stared into her food, eating nothing. Her jaw remained slightly open from the sheer dismay she felt, an inadequacy she felt was getting hammered into her being with every passing introduction.

Wren, on the other hand, wasted no time in helping herself. She certainly tried to listen, but such titles and phrases meant little more than nothing to someone like her. As did the concept of using utensils. Fortunately, Amelie had taught her a thing or two about proper fork, spoon, and knife usage... but old habits died hard. Especially hard in Wren's case.

She gripped the spoon like a toddler, trying to fit as much as much onto her fork as possible before attempting a bite-- sometimes resorting to the use of her hands. When it came to the steak, Wren didn't even remember her knife until after doing her best to quietly tear at it with her teeth.

When the last word was spoken, she turned to Amelie. 'Romance'. She thought she'd heard it before, but... she didn't care to remember where. Whatever it was, the lady seemed awful pleased with herself. In an irritable sort of way. Mouth full, she waited, as if for a translation. Before she could recieve one, however, one of the 'bonds' began their introduction. Each person more fancy than the next, it seemed. Her eyes especially lingered on the man with strawberry blonde hair, whose features and attire seemed, to her, the most perfectly suited, though she couldn't explain why.

When it came time for Amelie and Wren to introduce themselves, she was blissfully unaware, having stopped eating long enough to curiously observe the assortment of new faces at the table.

Amelie stood. Suddenly, her dress felt very loose. Suddenly, the nobles seemed to be so far beyond where she was supposed to be.

She was nothing more than a girl playing dress-up.

"Wren and Amelie..." she trailed off where her surname was meant to be said, noting the Rochean noble at the table. Almost immediately, she amended her accent to something more commonly found in their rural home region. "We hail from Balwyn and..."

Was this the part where they talked about their powers? But only the Arden fellow had prepared anything. He hadn't even looked at any notes. Amelie considered it for a second before realising that she'd left her sentence unfinished.

"...a-and it is an honor to serve with you all in the future. We hope to be of service...too. Thank you."

With a hasty curtsy, she sat back into her seat, clearly embarrassed.

Wren stood with Amelie after what seemed like a moment's consideration. When she finished so suddenly, Wren remained out of her seat, looking around the table like she might have something to add. A few seconds passed and she promptly sat down again.

[Chasers115]

Vitus & Liv

---

𝓝𝓸𝓿𝓮𝓶𝓫𝓮𝓻 𝟕𝓽𝓱, 𝟏𝟑𝟐𝟕 / / 𝓐𝓾𝓼𝓯𝓮𝓵𝓭 / / 𝓒𝓪𝓻𝓻𝓲𝓭𝓪𝓷'𝓼 𝓔𝓼𝓽𝓪𝓽𝓮 / / 𝓜𝓸𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰

---

Liv had been restless through the entire carriage ride, her displeasure at being locked into a confined space with few places to hide and fewer things to steal thinly veiled beneath small, fidgeting motions. The behavior hadn't stopped even when the carriage had come to a stop, and had certainly not stopped when the servants--servants that...would actually listen to her? That was odd--had asked whether the two would be sharing a room. Having a room was, of course, practically unheard of as far as Liv was concerned. The thief gave a noncommittal gesture in response, leaving the ultimate decision to her partner.

Partner.

The term rolled in her head as she mulled over it, only partially paying attention to the tour at hand. Prior to being bonded to the noble, Liv wouldn't have used the word "partner" to describe Vitus. Victim, target, mark, even adversary were all better matches, but partner? That word was reserved for the gutter trash that she'd spent her life around. People that helped her steal coin or escape from watchmen or guards on their scent, not people that lived in estates ripe for the picking. The entire situation was still unwieldy, clumsy with uncertainty that both tantalized and terrified Liv with the unknown.

'So we ask for something an' they'll give it?' Liv questioned, the convenience of not having the words out in the open to be questioned outweighing the fact that she wasn't fond of speaking without using her voice. The thief made no attempt to mask the slight level of distaste at the concept. 'S'what it's like to be you?'

Meanwhile, Vitus had already stepped out of the carriage, running his hand through his perfectly maintained hair and taking a deep breath. Good, clean air. Truly, it was one of the few things money couldn't purchase. But this was certainly no time to lollygag about and gawk at the scenery; that much would be for later. The duo had business to attend to, after all!

"One room. Two beds. A decent view of the garden, if such a room is available." Vitus said curtly, stepping down from the carriage. There was absolutely no reason to waste the time on long-winded explanations, especially when it was just the help. He wasn't being rude, obviously; he was just being expedient. Really, it made it easier on all of them. A small thought crossed his mind as he strolled past the servants, quickly turning him back around to face them. "And a small bowl of mint candies for the little one."

'The little one.' His unwitting companion in this whole adventure. Truly, it was a miracle that he'd managed to pry the little rodent from his rafters, much less get her to agree to the bonding. It was an opportunity for greatness, one that he certainly wasn't going to miss because a street urchin didn't want to play along. But it was to her benefit as well; maybe a few items went missing from the estate; heavens knew that seemed to happen frequently around him. Still, as much as he looked down upon her...very far down upon her...he had a special little place in his heart for Liv. A battle of the brains, as it were. One that he'd just taken the upper hand in; there was no way she could steal his possessions if they shared the same room. It would be far easier to keep an eye on her!

Speaking of which, Liv was saying something.

"No dearie, I ask for something and they'll give it. Who knows what they'll do if you start running around making requests. They'll probably think you blew in from the outside and give you the boot!" Vitus said, his voice making it clear that it was not intended as a joke.

"But, to answer your second questionnaire; this," He gave a wide flourish of the arms here, showing off an estate that did not belong to him, "...is what it's like to be me, yes."

"S'weird." Liv held back nothing as she moved after Vitus, nimble fingers raking through dark locks as she swept them behind her. The fact that they caught in tangles, only to subsequently rip a handful of strands out of place when she didn't stop against resistance, did nothing to slow her down. She glanced at the servants, aware that she could probably have stolen half of their belongings if she really wanted to try her hand...but the thief did no such thing. Not until after she'd gotten a quick scope of the place, she reminded herself. Instead, she brought her focus back to her conversation with Vitus. "What're ya supposed t' want if you just ask for it an' it's there?"

Contrary to how legitimate her question was, the girl didn't seem to be giving it much weight. Instead of anxiously waiting for an answer, her attention was divided again between conversation and action. Liv glanced around the area as they walked, her attention not entirely focused on the servants so much as looking for potential escape routes--always better to have a way out than to be stuck in a worst case scenario.

What kind of inquiry was that? Truly, Vitus could think of no other answers to the young rogue, save for the obvious one:

"My word, what a ridiculous question! When you get to a grandiose stature such as this, why would you ever want to want? It's all at your fingertips! There's no need to want or desire anything when you get to this state; it's the end! The top!"

He was completely unaware of how uncomfortable Liv seemed to be in the situation; rather, he was marveling in the shadow of the structure. He was worried that he'd start to get homesick without his staff around, but with a place such as this...it was better than he could have dreamed of!

...well, not quite. He could dream of some incredibly magnificent things, after all.

"Hm..." Liv mulled over the response. She wasn't surprised, but the thief could hardly say that she was convinced either. It might have been true, to a certain extent, that living in the lap of luxury was the height of achievement--she definitely knew her fair share of thieves that thought that to be the case--but she couldn't imagine it. Being restless felt like an integral part of her life, and being complacent was all but a foreign idea to the youth. How Vitus was completely at home without a hunger for more was beyond her.

She did not bother attempting to hide that either.

"Sounds borin'. I don' think I get the uh..." The word that she was looking for was on the tip of her tongue. Scrunching her face in a moment of concentration, the ragamuffin did her best to replace it with something that sounded relatively the same. "Aplee? 'Sat the word?"

"Appeal, but that was close!" Vitus said, in the same manner a teacher would speak to their kindergarten class. He'd subtly been trying to expand Liv's vocabulary since she'd been roosting in his house, to limited results. As far as he was aware, she could read a little bit, but he'd never actually found any notes from the little urchin, so it was hard to tell if she could actually write. He'd be a little irritated if she couldn't, considering how much the calligraphy pen that had 'mysteriously vanished' was worth.

"It's an acquired taste, I suppose. I'm sure if you got to taste the richness of it for yourself, you would wholeheartedly agree."

"Acquired?" Liv frowned at the word, turned it over in her head, eventually giving up her attempts to understand it, marking the defeat with a shrug of her shoulders. "So 's this a taste of the...richness?"

The physical words came accompanied by mental ones directed toward the man.

'What's a uh...mem...' She fumbled the word a few times more. 'The thing they said the garden is. Mem...memorl.'

"It is a taste, savor it to the fullest extent of your abilities while you have the opportunity."

He was a little caught of guard to hear Liv's voice inside his head, but quickly shrugged it off. Perhaps she was just too embarrassed to speak the thought out loud. It would be a shame if that were the case, because Vitus responded out loud, instead of through the little telepathy they'd been given.

"Mem-or-ree-al." he said, carefully pronouncing the word for Liv. "It typically means that the structure is dedicated to someone. Like, it's in honor of, or something to remember them by. Usually for dead people though; you don't often find a memorial for someone that's still alive. We call that a 'tribute'."

A dedication to the dead--another thought that went a bit further than Liv's understanding. The girl stewed over it silently, uncertain of why anyone would want to be reminded constantly of what had already passed. Outlived, outgrown, it didn't matter. Frowning to herself slightly, Liv raked her fingers through her hair in frustration, a hefty sigh coming with the action. Things were more complicated when the questions of where the next meal weren't involved.

"Rich folks're weird 'f they think 'bout dead people all the time." Deciding that was plenty of new information for the day, Liv chose not to pursue the subject herself. Instead, she sped her pace up, hands fidgeting impatiently as her focus drifted from the tour again.

She didn't bother trying to hide that either.

"We don't think about them all the time, dearie. But some people have had enormous impacts on other individuals, and those people would like to remember that." Vitus said, trying to explain in the best way that he could. It was a rather difficult experience to convey if one had no prior knowledge of it. Still, it seemed his words may have been lost on her, as she appeared to be getting rather antsy again.

"Shall we go look around the inside? I need to make sure the staff is familiar with you so that they don't try and chase you out, at least."

---

The tour of the estate had ended with little incident, primarily because Liv had decided that she did not, in fact, need to add to her collection of stolen goods quite yet. The thief was reasonably sure that wouldn't continue being the case with Avarice in her possession, but without the compulsion of "do or die", the motivation to steal without abandon had been dampened considerably.

That, and Vitus had been there the entire damn time.

It hadn't occurred to the girl that sharing a room with her partner would hamper her ability to indulge in procuring items that did not previously belong to her. That, fortunately (or unfortunately) had been the primary concern on the street rat's mind while they had prepared for the obligation of dinner. Odd that the meal was an obligation and not a treat. The complaint only fell behind in Liv's priorities when it came to the hassle of dressing herself, her ratty old garments replaced by something that looked like it would fit a lady. A lady that Liv most certainly was not. The folds of the fabric got in her way,stifling the ease of movement that she was accustomed to, frustrating her even when she'd finally managed to piece together what some of the additional items were.

"Can' I wear what I came in?" Liv questioned while struggling, for the third time, with how to manipulate the skirt of a dress without it catching or snagging on any of her personal belonging. "Damn thing don' even move right!"

"Absolutely not." Vitus said, adjusting in collar in front of a mirror. He'd been modest enough to wait the frankly absurd amount of time it had taken for Liv to get herself dressed, but he needed to make sure he was immaculate. Of course, he would be wearing his traditional outfit; the colors of the Ayolous family proudly embroidered along the collar and down the front. Although, he hadn't met any of the dinner party yet, so he sincerely doubted that anybody would appreciate the finer details of his clothing. No matter, he'd be sure to introduce himself properly to the important attendees.

"It is important to make a decent first impression, especially if we are to be dealing with some of the more influential people of the Empire. I will not have you sully appearances by showing up looking like riff-raff." he rolled his eyes as he walked over and grabbed a part of Liv's dress in an effort to help. "Heavens, Liv, you're nearly exposing yourself. Put your arm through this hole, here."

"No, 's too tight." The thief objected, her tone petulant and her expression defiant. "Can' put anythin' through there, 'n it makes it hard t--this keeps gettin' stuck."

Frustrated, Liv pulled aggressively at the skirt again, agitated by how easily it fell around her legs, between her legs, taking up space that could make her movements falter. One wrong move might have been acceptable for her noble "friend", but Liv didn't like entertaining the idea of not being able to move as freely as she wanted to.

"I don' like this thing. I can' move 'n it like I want."

"Please, that's not even the most complicated dress I've ever seen at a seating such as this." Vitus said, as Liv wriggled around like a frustrated child. "What kind of movement do you think you're going to need at a fancy dinner, anyway? These kinds of occasions are perfectly put together so a large range of movement is not required."

He sighed heavily. Hopefully she wasn't going to be an embarrassment; he'd hate for their 'partnership' to be looked down upon as a whole just because the little brat didn't like her outfit.

"Not rekwird don' mean I won' want to," Liv grumbled while grudgingly shoving her arm through the gap that Vitus had specified. As expected, it fit her perfectly, which was too tight as far as the thief was concerned. After all, if she stopped moving, she died. That was how it had been before her sudden assimilation into Vitus's estate.

"I don' like this." Liv repeated, this time less petulant and more concerned. "...les' finish this fast."

---

Lord, there were more children here than he would have expected. Clearly, he had worried far too much about being the sloppiest looking pair during introductions.

Vitus's eyes flitted merrily over the lot of them as dinner progressed, his thoughts and opinions on them mercifully quiet. It seemed as though there were groups of all sorts joining them at the table tonight. From the more fanciful looking pairs, to the...not quite as much. He chuckled inwardly to himself at the thought; most of these guests were probably far over their heads here at the estate. They'd likely never seen such elegance in their lifetimes, whereas this was common fare for those around the table who could enjoy such luxuries. Surely, he had it...

Dear gods, what was that atrocious smell?

Liv had remained uncharacteristically quiet, her hands fingering the silverware. Disinterest was evident, but the thief did little more than keep her observations. Keeping her hands to her own belongings was...harder than it should have been.

After what seemed like far too many people to bother remembering the names for, introductions had finally passed to him. Of course, he'd been ready and prepared; it was his duty to make sure that all present knew his name, of course. He stood, motioning for Liv to stand also, as he spoke with great authority and pride.

"Friends, acquaintances, and all those in between! Allow me to introduce myself, for those of you that do not already recognize me: I am Vitus Ayolous, and the pleasure is all mine. With me is my...'companion', Liv, and we shall both operate at our highest caliber in our duties. As, I hope, the rest of you shall!" he finished, raising his glass in a single-person toast.

"Don' take 'm too seriously."

[Vox Angelis]

𝓝𝓸𝓿𝓮𝓶𝓫𝓮𝓻 𝟕𝓽𝓱, 𝟏𝟑𝟐𝟕 / / 𝓐𝓾𝓼𝓯𝓮𝓵𝓭 / / 𝓒𝓪𝓻𝓻𝓲𝓭𝓪𝓷'𝓼 𝓔𝓼𝓽𝓪𝓽𝓮 / / 𝓜𝓸𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰

It would be a lie to say the last few days were of no interest for what was happening to Gwen. Just as she had gotten back from the blacksmith's shop, Imperial envoys were waiting with her brother in their ramshackle home. Shortly after, the two young folks were taken under the Empire's influence, given access to a bond, and then sent elsewhere for a mysterious purpose. Gwen never paid much attention to magical culture, so she had no idea what exactly this magical bond she gained along with her brother. But one thing was for sure, something changed in them. She did not know either the importance of this bond, that it would change their fate so radically.

But as the siblings' caravan reached the mansion, the teenage girl could not help but feel some sort of pride mixed with excitement. Everything she did, all the blood and sweat she poured at work. She did it all for her brother, in the hopes that he'd continue pursuing his studies that fascinated him more than anything. And here they were, lodged by the Empire and given an extraordinary power. Maybe it was destiny, maybe it was due to their family's fame, or perhaps Gwen's hardwork was noticed. Either way, Alistar had now access to magic. A dream Gwen had spent half her childhood supporting. Not only him, but the black-haired girl also gained power from this bond. It made her feel special. Worthy, even, to finally be something else than the talentless idiot that brought shame to her family and her brother.

Gazing upon the the estate, the youngest Ravencroft could not help but feel nostalgic at the sight.

"It looks somewhat like home, doesn't it, Brother?" Gwen remarked to Alistar, a note of bitterness in her words.

Not their home. The one Gwen was exiled from, and the home Alistar left in order to follow his younger sister.

"Hmph" was the only reply Alistar mustered. It would be a lie to say he wasn't excited. Not only had he obtained the sacred arts, but they were being delivered to a manor worthy of his intelligence. Certainly, it was what he desired all those years after he had abandoned his education for the sake of his aloof sister. The young mage merely flipped a page in a book he had already read several times over, keeping a facade of disinterest as he had no interest in conversation for the moment. He wanted to see everything the world was going to offer to him firsthand. By his pride, this is what he deserved, according to his own thoughts. This was by his interpretation, fate rewarding him for his sacrifice. It was his destiny, afterall, to become the greatest scholar of the magic arts this world had ever bore.

"I just hope it is just as enriched in research as our home was."

"This is the Empire! I'm sure they'll have all the ressources you need!" Gwen claimed with all of her enthusiasm.

It was a blind guess, sure, but the younger of the two siblings thought that if the Empire decided to take them in and even go to such lengths as make a magical bond, surely they had what was needed for Alistar to continue his magic research.

Gwen's gaze switched from the mansion to her own hand, where the midnight-colored spiked gauntlet covering her whole right arm materialized.

"And even if they don't, at least you have this new magic you've been granted. I believe you could experiment with it here."
"Well lets just hope so, they'd be fools to stifle my brilliance anyhow." The self-proclaimed mage tipped his coned hat over his face as he closed his book on his lap.

"I also hope they didn't recruit idiots as well. I look forward to meeting others that share my vast knowledge, of course." He said without a falter of his pride or bluntness.

"I'm sure they will!" Gwen kept telling, keeping an enthusiastic smile.

And even if they weren't up to her brother's standards, at least that will make people for him to talk to. The last few years Alistar spent in solitude at their less-than-honorable home made the younger sibling worry a bit for the elder. Being alone all the time wasn't good, socially and mentally. He'll surely benefit from talking to other people.

Seeing as both fell silent, the servants and Mages accompagnying the newly bonded duo of siblings gave the two a tour of the estate. While Gwen wasn't quite fascinated by the luxury of the domain - as she had seen plenty of it back when she was younger - she was however intrigued by the gardens. In all honesty, she always was quite fond of flowers, and she could remember the few rare moments during her childhood, as a member of the Ravengrow, she would skip her lessons to play in the garden and pick flowers to decorate her room and her brother's. Even after they had left their family, Gwen managed to get some free time, usually after taking a bath down the stream just outside the forest, to gather some flowers and bring them back home in a splendid bouquet.

Lost in memories as they were touring the gardens, Gwen absent-mindedly strayed from the group to take a closer look on the flowers and smell their exquisite aromas. Strange, such beautiful specimens usually aren't alive during the winterchill of November. Maybe something magical was at play here? Alistar probably knows. And as she pondered over this mystery, her questionning reached her brother's mind, her astonishment making its way through their emotionnal bond.
"Hard to say, though while it is possible, it'd be a waste of the arts to preserve such flowers. More likely it is some kind of agriculture trick." He answered allowed, uncaring that only Gwen understood the context of that answer. Alistar was, only moderately impressed of the manor. Sure, it was luxorious, it was only expected to treat a scholar such as himself with noble-like dignitiy. Suffice to say though that beyond that the tour didn't quite meet up to Alistar's impossible expectations. It didn't quite matter though, as he should have plenty of free time to practice his abilties and partake in his own private studies. Being a pawn of the emperor made no difference if it meant he was going to achieve his purpose.

"I... see." Gwen whispered, slightly left confused over Alistar's last statement. So, was it magic or not? That wasn't very clear in her mind. Still, to be able to make flowers grow in this cold was nonetheless impressive, no matter how lame her brother made it sound like.

As her hand reached out to pluck one flower from its stem, one of the servants frantically forbade the clueless young woman from doing so. Apologetic, the dark-haired Knight nodded, ushering a silent apology for her misdeed. Feeling she was delaying the tour, Gwen fell back in line, following the touring group. Maybe she'll come back here at a later time to fully appreciate the gardens when their business would be concluded.

Eventually, their tour would end as the two siblings were asked about rooming.

"We can have a room for two? Can we one, please?" Gwen replied without a hint of hesitation in her voice, despite how strange it might have been for the servants to hear such a request from siblings.
"I'd prefer my own private room, actually." Alistar requested after her sister without much care, if not being blunt.

"Oh... okay." Gwen only replied, barely hiding a tinge of disappointment in her voice. "Then, I'll have my own room too, if you may please."

In the spur of the moment, Gwen had thought that it would be fun to share a room with her brother. They've always had separate rooms back in their family's estate, and it was the same in their small ruined home. Being alone in a single room was quite lonesome. And during some nights, it was hard to sleep alone. Gwen still remembered those rare nights she sneaked out of bed after a nightmare, as a kid, to slip into her brother's bed. The comforting warmth of her big brother was reassuring at that time. She sort of wished she'd feel this warmth again, once in a while.

Slightly let down, Gwen departed with her assigned servant to show her to her room.

"I'll see you later, brother."

---

Gwen's Rooming

Fitting for a mansion of this caliber, Gwen found herself slightly impressed from the room. Again, it reminded her a bit of her time back at the Ravencroft estate. To think that one day, they’d return to this kind of life. It had been so many years since they had left the family’s household to live into that pitiful shack. It was a foolish dream, but the dark-haired teen had tried her darnest to regain a comfortable life ever since then. While to some it may appear as good fortune, Gwen liked to believe all that was happened to Alistar and she was the fruit of their dedication to each other.

Rather filthy from days of negligent bathing and working to a sweat, Gwen figured that she might want to clean herself properly before meeting with the others at the dining hall. She knew her brother would like her to be proper when meeting with new people. He had his pride, and although they didn’t quite share the same mentality, Gwen did not want to make Alistar look bad by hanging around with such a mess.

So to the baths she went, under the guidance of a servant whom she had promptly called shortly after arriving in her room. Despite the recent tour, she had no idea where to go, which corridors to take in this maze of an estate. For a long time in a while, Gwen enjoyed the luxury of taking a bath. She was enjoying the moment so much, she took way longer than necessary to clean herself. She had remained into the hot water, basking in the comfort and the fragrance of the soap’s perfume and the pleasant warmth surrounding her naked body.

When she was done with bathing, Gwen returned to her room (again with the help of a servant) to get dressed for the upcoming event. She was a bit dismayed by the clothing she had been given. Robes and dresses were not her forte. Living the life of a blacksmith, she preferred clothing herself in trousers and shirts. Also, dresses seemed slightly out of place given her more-or-less muscular frame.

The young Ravencroft was at an impasse. Should she dress formerly for an important dinner, or could she clothe herself more comfortably? In the end, Gwen had decided to pick a comfortable set of black pants, accompanied by a white shirt underneath a deep purple vest. Not especially high-class looking fit for a lady, but she was comfortable in those and it still worked for clothing for a woman of her works.

Now that she was smelling like a fresh rose, was cleaned and was better clothes than when she got here, Gwen figured that she might go and see how her brother was doing. See if he was satisfied with his room and all. It only been a hour since she left him, but she wondered what he was up to now.

---

Alistair's Rooming

There was a sigh of relief from the brother once he had entered his own room. There was some desire to have such a silent and well furnished room all to himself. It was the perfect setup for him to shut himself away from the world and delve deep into his studies, or to merely relax to relieve any stress he may have had. The first thing Alistar went to do was to take a bath, and afterwards, getting his more formal, less extravagant tunic ready for the dinner. He wasn't exactly one to impress others with appearances, but due to the occasion he thought of it to be appropriate for the sake of it. Having plenty of time to himself before dinner was scheduled, the rest of his time was spent reading the same book he had kept with him. At this point, he probably could recite every line. Hopefully it will be the last time he read the book, as he anticipated that he would have resources granted to him to expand his knowledge and power. Sometime later he figured he would have to test his abilities further.

---

Being properly cleaned and dressed for the upcoming dinner. Gwen navigated through the maze that was this mansion to find her brother's room. It took longer than anticipated, and even had to find a servant to show her the way to Alistar's room. Despite the tour, she had a hard time remembering the paths to take to get to somewhere in the estate.

Manners lost on her, especially when it came to family, Gwen barged into Alistar's room without knocking. Her previous disappointed state seemed to have faded away to being replaced by her usual cheerful mood.

"Brother~, are you ready for dinner soon?" the black-haired sister called out.
"I'd appreciate it if you'd knock first, have you still no sense of privacy?" Alistar inquired rudely as he closed a brown tome in his book. He was prepared for dinner in the proper sense, already dressed in a more simple tunic, though he still bore the hat above his head. He wasn't exactly thrilled to end his studies and interact with the others, hopefully they won't annoy him. He was atleast somewhat hungry, given the time. "But yes, I am ready to go attend to dinner."

"Whoops, my bad." Gwen only replied with a soft smile donning her face.

Old habits die hard, not to mention these sort of manners weren't properly taught within her. Being so close to her brother all the time, she often forgot about their own privacy, even more so with this celestial bonding of theirs. It's as if they couldn't keep secrets from each other, if there were any in the first place.

"Alright then. Let's meet our new friends!"
"Friends are a strong term." He added before leading the way.

---

The trip to the dining hall was relatively short with Alistar in the lead. Unlike Gwen, he knew his way around the estate with only the tour they've benefitted from. As they arrived, there were already plenty of people attending this dinner, imperial officials and other bonded pairings alike. While Alistar had no problem finding his seat, the same couldn't be said for his sister, who had the greatest difficulty reading those.

Initially, Gwen thought of sitting next to her brother, but he was already flanked by occupied seats. Just where did she had to go? After standing still for a minute and watching all around her, she caught the look in Alistar's eyes.

Curtly, Gwen went to take a seat at the table, across her older brother. Slightly embarassed, it did not hold her from grabbing as much food as her plate could handle. It had been so long since they had a decent meal with good portions. Famished and not really one for manners, Gwen began eating just as the officials were introducing themselves. She was listening as they were speaking, intrigued by the men that were the reason they were here in the first place.

Gwen found herself interested by the woman that had made quite a ruckus as she entered the dinning hall. She seemed to have quite the bright personality, which was a huge plus compared to all the more somber individuals in this room. And that "romance" theme of her bond only made it the more interesting. Love was such a fascinating aspect of their world, after all.

When the others began their introductions, the younger of the two Ravencroft finally stopping stuffing her face with food. She took proper care to clean her hands and mouth with a nearby napkin before it would be their turn to speak. So far, there seemed to have a lot of nobles attending this dinner of theirs. From the way their standing suggested to the way they were speaking. A lot didn't quite have that country-side look to them, although the clothing they were provided helped with that.

After the two girls finished introducing themselves, there was a silence that needed to be filled, and Gwen took it upon herself to break it. Getting up from her chair, the dark-haired girl with blood red eyes scanned the room and flashed a smile.

"Hello, I am Gwen A'ladriel Rave-" the girl interrupted herself abruptly, uncertainty gripping her as she did not know whether it was needed to introduce herself as a Ravencroft or not. She had been disowned by her family. Could she reslly use that name?

"Gwen will be fine though! I am Knight to my brother and apprentice blacksmith. It is a pleasure to meet you all! I hope we will all be getting along."

Gwen kept her smile as bright as always, falling silent and looking to Alistar, see if he was going to introduce himself, or if she'll need to do it, like some of the others did.

Once Alistar was seated he had only taken a small portion of food to start with. He was never much of a big eater, and though he definitely hadn't seen food this well made in a long time, he only took what he figured he could eat. By the time the others began introducing themselves Alistar was ionly half-listening with arms crossed and his large cone-shaped hat slightly obscuring his face. He had little interest in these baffoons afterall. He didn't desire any sort of social party.

A sigh abrupted from the hat-wearing mage. "Ravencroft, her last name is Ravencroft, just as I." Dissapointment and annoyance was left in his voice as he stood up from his chair. "My name is Alistar A'sarel Ravencroft. I am a mage and I have little interest in making acquaintences. My only concerns are with my studies. I'll only say this once, but I have no patience for the weak-minded. I have no desire to waste my talents or knowledge to simpletons. You'll find my sister to be much more easier to talk to, so if you have any inquiries, ask her."

Seating himself back in his chair, Alistar took a single bite of an apple.

Perhaps it would have been better if she had given Alistar a short but sweet introduction instead of the blunt words that came from his mouth, Gwen figured as she stoof still and listened to her brother. When he was done, she her enthusiastic smile turned to a somewhat emarassed smirk, trying to remain friendly-looking despite the barrage of insults unleashed by the older Ravencroft.

"It will be my pleasure, really!" Gwen finished with a nervous giggle, sitting back on her chair as uickly as she had risen from it. As if to hide her embarassement, she began shoveling food back into her mouth as soon as she was back on her seat.

[GreenGoat]

Maria & Heinrich

---

Her blonde head bobbed back and forth as she hummed to herself a tune she had heard once in the theatre. It was strange for one from Warraqia to be summoned so, considering how reclusive they were.But for her to be chosen, well... it was a great honor of course. Just by this, her family's prestige will skyrocket. At least, thats what her father, the Count, told her. In truth, she did not really care. Her family was still well off, if not very high on the prestige list for nobility.

But the best thing was, she get to play abroad, with man accompanying her. Maria Abigail Tepes was in a very good mood because of that, even allowing him to ride in relative comfort on a cart. She would have even allowed him on the coach had it not for his sheer size. Otherwise, he would have been chained and collared in a rolling steel cage all the way.

As for the man, he was lost in thought, sitting alone in the cart that was prepared just for him. His size couldn't fit into one of the many carriages. Not that the young mistress would've allowed him such luxury, of course. And yet, he could feel the lady being quite cheerful today. What a strange sensation it was, to feel what she was feeling. His head was kept low, a symbol of submission he had to learn the hard way ever since this blonde young lady had purchased him. Just how long had it been since he was torn away from the pits of the arena? It felt like years already. Of course, everything seemed to be longer than it was, when one was under the sadistic treatments of the heir of Tepes.

And yet, for the moment, the big man wasn't thinking much about his life of servitude. No. What was going on in his mind was the very purpose he was now sitting into this coach. Why were he and the young mistress chosen to form this... strange bond of theirs? The reason behind all of this eluded him. And quite frankly, he did not know whether he should bother thinking about it. He'd remain a slave nonetheless. A slave with more power. Power to crush anyone opposing him and threatening his mistress.

Bones crushing. Blood spilled. Heads flying. He couldn't wait for the time he'd get to summon this weapon of his again. Feel this power in his hands, and use it to maim.

A sinister grin appeared on the blonde slave's face.

Maria, of course, caught the grin on his face, feeling a shiver of ancipationan and excitement running up her back. She knew him well enough to know what he was thinking of.

"You will get your chance soon enough," she spoke, grinning softly. If one did not know her very well, they might be inclined to think it was an innocent soft smile, a genuine warmhearted gesture that only an innocent child could produce. She looked like one, and the smile was genuine, but there was malice behind it. "Perhaps we could even find someone to play with."

"It'll be done according to your wishes, mistress." Heinrich replied submissively, keeping his head low but eyes up to spy on the girl's grin. A smile familiar to the big man. One that would reflect his own at times.

"What d'ya think of this situation, my lady?"

"A golden opportunity, of course." She laughed, a cheerful laugh like a bubbling brook. "But you knew that. Opportunity for a great many things."

Heinrich only nodded in approval to the girl's answer. This even would prove to be... interesting, to say the least.

***

The grounds was... well it was amazing for her. Her own castle was dank, dark and dimly lit. Not because of any trouble or anything, but her father preferred it that way as well as the thick fog surrounding it making it hard to be anything else than that. The person to greet them was familiar to her at least, in name if not in person.

Heinrich had also noticed the contrast between his mistress' residence and this one. But it did little to impress him, or have him care enough about the luxury and brightness of this place. Years of slavery taught him that the shiniest of homes were built and maintained from the misery of poor souls.

As soon as the servants asked what sort of room she wanted however, she made it adamantly clear that she wanted only a single room, with a single bed in it. The man with her was undeserving of a bed, and was fit only for the floor at the foot of her bed.

While the servants eyed the bonded duo, unsure about their whole situation, the colossus towered over them with a mean glare in his eyes.

"My mistress' wishes are absolute. If that's what she wants, leave us." the giant of a man mumbled aggressively to the servants, prompting them to leave as quickly as arrangements were made.

"Hmph." With only that word uttered, she threw herself at the bed, enjoying its soft springiness. Having finally been left alone for the day in her, their, room, she wanted only to relax. Sitting up, her grin widened slightly, as she raised her foot. "Heinrich, my feet are tired."

"Very well..." the large slave nodded, letting an inaudible sigh escape his lips.

Knowing what had to be done and considering his status, Heinrich leaned down next to his mistress' bed. There, he kneeled lowly on the ground, his back presented as a footstool for the lady's exhausted feet.

Putting up her feet on his back, she sighed contentedly. There was just something about lowering someone's status to a mere piece of furniture, a toy for her to play with.

"Did you see all those officials? Tell me, what do you think of them?"

The manly footstool grunted in disapproval. "I smell weakness. Typical men living in the Capital. They'd snap like twigs in battle, if they'd ever dare dirty themselves. The servants here too. They'd not last the winter if they were back home. Too religious for my liking too."

"Hmph."The blonde raised her leg and brought it down on his back, just hard enough to hurt slightly. It was a response a barbarian would think of. "That is true. But for so many to be here, there might be more to be gained here after all."

This seemed to be larger than she thought it would be. She had no real desire for more prestige or higher rank, but if this was what she thought it would become, then she could very well gain land of her own. A household of her own. Subjects of her own. Of course, she couldn't very well indulge willy nilly, as her own experiences had shown in the past, but still, she will be able to have anyone anywhere play with her. Discreetly of course.

"Close your eyes and lie down on the floor like the cur you are." Again, she accentuated that with a small kick to his side. "I need to be make myself presentable for the dinner."

Heinrich let out a faint grunt in response to the kicking, feeling the bony heel of the girl's foott somehow finding its way to a nerve. But through the pain, with clenching teeth, he was grinning.

"Yes, mistress." the blonde man answered. He closed his eyes and laid down completely flat on the ground, just as commanded.

Nodding to herself, she stepped on him to get towards the wardrobe, picking out another one of her more elaborate, but still simple clothing. The cloth was thick and heavy, and of very good quality, signifying she was above mere peasants, so while it was still simple, there was no mistaking her for anything else but a noble. To complete the look, she pinned a brooch with a large red stone embedded in it to her collar, holding it together over the ruffle there.

"Mistres..." Heinrich's muffled voice in his arms called out "What're yer impressions of the place, and the people?" A question that mirrored what the young lady asked earlier, but the big man was no good at talking. Making discussions often reflected questions asked to him in the first place. There wasn't much he could think of himself.

"Soft." Maria spun around in front of the mirror, wearing a nice friendly smile. "They're not fun at all to be around. They might give us an opportunity to gain more, but they're boring and preachy. The wolves of Warraqia wouldn't even see them as fit to eat."

Satisfied with how she looked, she thought about stepping on his head, but decided against it. He needed to be presentable as well. Or at least, as presentable as he can be with all those metalic straps and bars wrapping around him.

"Clean yourself up and be on your best manners during the dinner." She clapped her hands once, signalling that he can stand up now. "We don't want any conflict at dinner, do we?"

She laughed again. "At least, not overtly."

"Wash..." Heinrich repeated, as if he was stupefied. Just how long was the last time he was granted the privilege to wash himself proper?

The big man got up on his feet, eyeing the noble clothing his mistress donned for the event. She truly must feel like this event was important if she had put that much effort in choosing her garments, and even have him be clean. A slight grin appeared on his face at the last statement. Whether they made ennemies or not, he wouldn't care that much. That would give him more reasons to crush some heads. But for the sake of his mistress right now, he'll just have to play along with these curt games, until he was given the order to step on those weaklings.

"I'll get myself prepared. Won't take long."

Heinrich departed from the room when Maria allowed him to, heading for the nearby privy. In his case, cleaning was very superficial. The blonde colossus used the water basin only to wash the accumulated dirt, sweat and dried blood off his body. Using soap or other fancy products, that he did not know of. As long as his skin was rid of dirt, he was presentable. At the very least, the stench emanating from him subsided significantly now that he was free of filth.

Unwanting to keep his mistres waiting or be left alone for too long, Heinrich returned to the girl's room as quickly as he could.

Nodding with approval as soon as he returned, Maria left with him in tow for the dinner.

***

Dinner was certainly different than what she was used to. For one, there was a whole lot of food on the table, whereas the table in her father's castle was usually unused, as most of them either ate alone in their room or elsewhere in the castle ground. The general was, of course, someone she recognized by name, but the rest was unknown to her.

The Rochean noble seemed rather uptight, preferring to let her servant do the talking, while that noble from the far north only gave his first name. Neither of them was familiar to her, but at least she recognized them as nobles. Another foppish looking noble with a girl looking rather uncomfortable in her dress was another, but the rest seemed like pissants and curs. And what was that attrocious smell? This wasn't at all the sort of pain she liked. The food looked delicious, and she did feel hungry, but it took almost all her concentration to not cry at the table.

Meanwhile, Heinrich was too busy stuffing his face in the variety of food that was offered on the table. He couldn't remember a single occasion he had been given a meal of such high quality and allowed to eat to his heart's content of such. He wasted little time, once seated, to grab the nearby plates and empty their contents into his own. Seeing how few the others seemed to eat, it won't go to wsate, he figured.

Listening to what was being said at the table, the blonde slave paid little mind to everyone's introductions. He knew next to nothing about everyone seated at this table, and he frankly didn't care much. Eyeing the individuals, he deemed none of them looked very strong. All he saw was weakness, pompous little nobles pretending to be important and puny kids wanting to play heroes. It was rubbish, the whole lot of them.

The only thing of interest he noted was the talk about being trained to fight. Immediately, the giant of a man grinned at the prospect of fighting. If they were here to train and become warriors, then that meant there were battles to be had. And if there were battles to fight, then there would be blood to be spilled. Bodies to maim. There was hope for something interesting here after all.

Standing up, Maria seemed to be more overwhelmed by the table's height standing than she was sitting. Trying to push the smell to the back of her head, she beamed a bright sunny smile as she started her own introduction. "I am Marie Abigail Tepes, of the House of Tepes from Warraqia. Nice to meet you. This is Heinrich, he's my bodyguard. Do not mind his brutish appearance."

She bowed politely, the cheerful look never leaving her face.

"Feel free to stop by my room anytime. I would love to have some company from time to time." She resumed, eying the twins as she spoke.

As Maria began introducing herself, Heinrich paused in his eating frenzy, getting up as well from his chair to present himself to the others. Unlike his mistress, the brutish colossus did not say a work, only offering a grunt after his the young master introduced him to the others. There was not much to say about him, other than being a slave and toy to the mistress. But that wasn't something they really needed to know. His master didn't need to lose face in front of the others right now.

Done with the introduction, Maria sat back down, glancing over to the twins, before looking over to the others. That scruffy looking girl there looked fun. Perhaps she could persuade that girl to come with her some times. She would try to examine the others more, but the stench was making her lightheaded. If she knew who it was, she would teach it a lesson it would never forget.

[VarionusNW]

- A Beginning of Sorts -

Part 2

The extent lies beyond eternity,
Morrowyr's tears do not run that far,
Starmgein's winds cannot reach,
Harbingald's flames would not burn enough,
Starved like Gelsa's beasts.
Lamure could not paint it,
Vyra could not coax its heart,
Haermund could not understand it,
Gardwyn would hunt in vain,
and even Aurdin would not know it's fate,
But I have now seen beyond eternity,
and the gods were wise to fail.
_{-Adondum V}

𝓝𝓸𝓿𝓮𝓶𝓫𝓮𝓻 𝟕𝓽𝓱, 𝟏𝟑𝟐𝟕 / / 𝓐𝓾𝓼𝓯𝓮𝓵𝓭 / / 𝓒𝓪𝓻𝓻𝓲𝓭𝓪𝓷'𝓼 𝓔𝓼𝓽𝓪𝓽𝓮 / / 𝓔𝓿𝓮𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰

Introductions fell swiftly from mouths of Carridan's eighteen honored guests; none of them saying more than necessary, and some even saying less. Dalgen liked things that way, or at least it proved that he didn't have more than one Lysandra Aulmoore in his home. With a short nod from the General, dinner truly began for those who hadn't already started eating. A few wisps of conversation popped up around the table, particularly from Lysandra who was already talking the ears off of the two mages who had the displeasure of sitting next to her. Dalgen was thankful the woman hadn't asked for a seat near him.

After ten or so minutes of relative quiet, or as close as one could get with Aulmoore in the room, one of the black-cloaked churchmen approached the table, bending down to whisper something in the ear of Dinn Lemare. The truthseeker shot up immediately, fast enough that it set Dalgen to worry.

"I deeply apologize," Lemare attempted to compose himself, "but something has come up. Continue without me." He moved stiffly to mutter something to Carridan before rushing out of the room at a near sprint. The Hound struggled to keep up.

After the Truthseeker's exit, dinner continued to be what Dalgen would call somewhat successful. Lysandra had gotten quieter with time, lessening Carridan's headache, and Tolle had excused himself to examine something for the Truthseeker. The old General had his servants clear the empty spaces at the table, and put clean plates and utensils in their places. He was sure the practice would look strange to his guests, but it was better than letting go of his customs. He muttered a prayer under his breath as dinner had begun to wind down.

"I hope that y'all enjoyed yourselves, as tomorrow mornin' will not be as easy. You'll be up by dawn; my servants will be there to wake you if necessary, and you'll be directed to where your trainin' begins. You may be chosen heroes and such, but that does not mean I'll go easy on you. Most of you have never served, and likely never would, but we don't know how little time we have. While I would love to run you all through enough basic training to get you as disciplined as physically possible. Missus Aulmoore over there," He glared with his one good eye at the woman, "she thinks it's best to just get you to know some weapons, some horses, and how to strangle a man." His gray-stained hair seemed to get grayer every time he so much as mentioned her. "Oh, and those were her exact words."

Aulmoore nodded proudly.

"You're all free to continue eatin' for as long as you need, but I suggest gettin' your rest in soon." With that, Dalgen stood and left the room. Normally, he wouldn't have left his guests at the table, but a churchman had slipped him a note from Lemare during his speech. The matter was urgent. Calmes and Hann left the room next, seemingly sick of the psychotic woman's ramblings. Lysandra Aulmoore, however, had no plans to leave dinner yet. She stayed until the last of the bonded had left, uncharacteristically refraining from forcing any of them into unwanted conversation.

As expected, servants came and woke up those who had not already risen by dawn. They let the pairs ready themselves then lead them a short distance from the mansion along a stone pathway that the servant eventually strayed from, stepping onto an expansive field. Curiously, the servant also mentioned that the gardens were off-limits for the time being.

The grounds were empty save for the small mass of churchmen gathered near what seemed to be a rather meager place to train: a few circles of turned up earth, a semi-enclosed weapons rack, a similar enclosure guarded by two Hounds that held a number of guns and ammunition, and a shooting range marked out with wooden poles. The churchmen had clearly been forced to stay somewhat of a distance from the bulk of the grounds, though they were set up near the stables, where a few stablehands were bringing out horses. Lysandra Aulmoore and Moranth were both present, and staring over the shoulder of Tolle at whatever it was that he was writing.

Dinn Lemare took his leave as the pairs approached, leaving a grim-looking Carridan alone in front of the weapons rack. The general stood in full uniform. His stiff, darkly colored coat bearing the Carridan crest rather than any sort of imperial insignia, and completely lacking the imperial colors, though he would likely say the flag flying on the grounds was more than enough patriotic symbolism.

"Alright," Dalgen said once his eighteen guests were present, "I'll just be cuttin' to the chase, don't feel like doin' much else." He swallowed hard. Carridan looked shaken, though he was slightly more composed than Dinn had left him. He stared down at a paper held much too tightly in his grip, and listed off who would be doing what.

The Ravencroft siblings, Tepes, her slave, Ayolous, and Liv were to be at the dirt circles with Carridan for sparring, and other things related to hand-to-hand combat and the use of some of the weapons that were behind him.

Harwell, Gabriel, Proulx, d'Agneaux, and the ninth pair would be shooting with Dinn Lemare and two of his hounds.

Ilyin-Melikov, Zykova, Laurier, Wren, and the Clairemont twins would be riding horses with Carridan's stablemaster, as well as Aulmoore who had decided to tag along since Carridan had enough horses.

OOC Notes

The following round will include room for interaction during and after dinner, as well as in the morning, up to and including the start of training. I will be controlling NPCs for the sparring group, @January will be handling the shooting NPCs, and @banjoanjo will have the horsemanship NPCs. Ignore the ninth pair for the time being.

Extensions will be administered if the interactions + the start of training turns out to be too much. I apologize for the delays, and this will not happen again. I've already got the next post planned out, and that will be posted at most two days after the deadline for this round.

[Baklava]

Foreign Refrain

Wren | Regies | Amelie

_{A Collab by @Baklava @Diggerton and @banjoanjo}

---

𝓝𝓸𝓿𝓮𝓶𝓫𝓮𝓻 𝟕𝓽𝓱, 𝟏𝟑𝟐𝟕 / / 𝓐𝓾𝓼𝓯𝓮𝓵𝓭 / / 𝓒𝓪𝓻𝓻𝓲𝓭𝓪𝓷'𝓼 𝓔𝓼𝓽𝓪𝓽𝓮 / / 𝓔𝓿𝓮𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰

---

It had been an interesting day to see the least. Regies was entirely uninterested in... well, all of it aside from serving Rose-Marie as best he could. After dinner he made sure to attend to his duties and headed straight to his room for what he assured himself was a well deserved rest. After all, he'd gone a long ways from home for the sake of his mistress, and...

Well, it was taxing to do new things.

He settled in, sitting on the bed and gazing out the window. As he did he found his lute, idily plucking away the notes of a song he'd only half-remembered.

She and Amelie's garden visit had been a big flop. Of course. The one part of this big, crowded box that Wren had any interest in exploring and she wasn't allowed. Perched on the windowsill with the dinner dress crumpled on the bed behind her, Wren stared up at the moonlight peeking through the branches of the tree outside.

She needed to step out for a bit. A tree alone was no garden of flowers, but it would be nice enough.

The small young woman tentatively reached for the window latch, trying to remember how Amelie had opened it before. Recalling the presence of her friend, she turned to see her breathing slowly in her bed. Asleep after a long day of travel and senseless 'requirements'.

Silent boots hit the floor again and she crept a bit closer, narrowing her eyes curiously at the sleeping girl's face. What a weirdo. Why did she want to come here so badly? The food was good, but they had plenty of that at home. None of this needed to be their fight. What had the Emperor of Greinheim ever done for them? With a breathless sigh, Wren straightened herself and stepped towards the window, slipping out into the night air.

It was only a short hop to the nearest branch. The tree barely shook as it accepted her weight. The feeling of bark beneath her fingertips was a comfort she hadn't realized she'd missed after spending all day with smooth, polished surfaces. This was a good tree. Yes, as long as this tree was here, things might not be so terrible.

The second thing that caught her attention was a sound. She'd heard it only a few times before. Sometimes drifting from beside a distant campire, sometimes flowing through the maze of buildings and fences near Amelie's house. Curiousity propelled her up a sturdy branch that reached past the window from which she thought she could place the sound, but no. The room inside was dark. She cupped her hands up against the glass, squinting until her eyes adjusted. Nothing to see.

Just when she thought she might lose interest, the music started up again. She looked down between her scrawny legs, dangling just above the top of another window. There was light in that room so it must be the place. Twisting her hat more snugly onto her head, Wren turned herself upside down, knees closed around the tree branch and necklace jingling against her cheek as she peeked in at an orange haired boy sitting on his bed with a... music thingy.

Regies, for but a moment, was so absorbed in thought that he didn’t notice the gremlin hanging from the branches watching him. He continued to pluck at the strings of the lute, looking off to the side.

However, he eventually did notice.

”Oh! By the gods, monster!” he shouted, shooting up, placing the lute at his side, and quickly searching for the sword that Rose-Marie had given him. He never though he’d have to use the damn thing, especially not this quick. Was this how he was going to die? A dirt covered gremlin eating his innards? He shot a quick glance behind him as he rummaged for his things, and…

Wait, was that actually a person?

Wren stared, mildly surprised when his eyes met hers and he jumped up to begin shouting. What the hell was that for? She cinched her brow and as he began searching for something, a frown settling across her face. Probably something to throw or swat at her with, if past experience was anything to go by. She soundly doubted he was fishing for some socks to hand over freely, like one other weirdo she knew. Either way, it seemed he was no longer interested in making music, so it was likely best that she make tracks.

Wren quickly righted herself and reached for a branch overhead, pulling herself up and away with only a few falling leaves left behind as evidence she was ever there.

Regies turned quickly, trying to place the face with one of the ones at dinner but failing to. Or was it…? No, no, he pushed the thought away, hurrying to the window and opening it, ”Hey! Wait!” he called out.

Alas, 'wait' wasn't a word she often listened to. Wren pulled herself up onto another tree branch before reconsidering. This was supposed to be her home. Hers just as much as it was his. She turned around and leered down at the boy silently. Her eyes flickered to his hands, noting that they were empty, but still cautiously waiting for whatever it was he wanted to say.

”Uhhhhhh…” was, for a moment, all he could think of. ”Are you, er, one of the, uh… celestially… bonded… people?"

Silence. More silence. Wren rolled her eyes and sighed. Yeah, she sure was. And she sure kinda wished she wasn't. What was he asking such obvious questions for, anyway? Hadn't he seen her at the table?

Shifting into a more comfortable position, she nodded once.

Regies smiled, ”Oh, well, you gave me quite the scare!” he said jovially, ”Er, probably not best to be peering through people’s windows at night. I’m Regies… uh, Regies Proulx.” he awkwardly extended his hand upward, not quite sure if she’d come down and reach for it.

Indeed, she wouldn't. Staring at the hand reproachfully, Wren lowered herself down a branch. She wasn't stupid. She knew what a handshake was. In fact, she was keenly aware of the social repurcussions of turning one down as well. But in the grand scheme of all things Wren, feeling another person's skin against her own simply wasn't something she fancied doing anytime soon. So she did the next best thing.

She gave a small wave, additionally showing no remorse for the 'scare' as she folded her arms and leaned against the tree trunk, staring at 'Regies' expectantly.

Regies stared at the girl for a moment. Oh. Oh. He understood! She must’ve been simple, like his cousin Linus. Aye, he knew how to handle the sort. A light touch was best. He glanced back at the lute, reaching for it, ”Were you, er, interested in this?”

Wren perked up a bit, but didn't move. Was he offering to play more? She thought for a moment. It felt awkward now that he knew she was there. And she didn't want to have to sit and politely listen until he was done with whatever he decided to play. Especially if it turned out to be a very long song... Then again, why not? It wasn't like she cared about this random person's feelings. She shrugged lightly, looking away and trying to seem indifferent.

She liked the music. That much she would admit. Not to him, though.

”Aye, well... I’ll play a song, then we’ll see how you feel. I’m quite good, I’ll have you know.” he grabbed the lute, heading towards the window and leaning out of it. He began to pluck at strings, playing a ballad that his father had taught him. ”So, tree lady, do you have a name?”

Wren listened intently, staring off at the skyline of trees in the distance and not bothering to look at Regies again until he asked for her name. Her name. Ugh. He forgot that, too? Wren stared at him, clearly unamused. She was silent for another moment, almost deciding not to answer at all. It wouldn't be the first time she didn't answer a question like that.

She sighed. Today was an odd day indeed.

"'Tree lady' works...," her lips curled into a mean-spirited smile, "But I answer to Wren."

”Aye! Yes, I remember now, Wren. And your partner was… Amelie.” Regies nodded along to the song for a moment, perhaps intentionally ignoring Wren’s displeasure at the question, ”And where, pray tell, are you from, Wren?”

Her eyes narrowed. "Balwyn," she frowned. Amelie had said that during dinner, too. Unlike Regies, who never mentioned where he and 'Rose-Marie' were from. But she didn't bother asking. Being unfamiliar with the world outside Balwyn Forest, she wouldn't recognize it anyway.

”Balwyn…” Regies thought for a moment, and then shook his head. ”’Fraid I’m not familiar. Not one for maps, myself. Perhaps I read it in a book once, but I don't recall. What is Balwyn like?”

Wren could at least relate to the sentiment concerning maps, but her lips pursed at the next question. What was Balwyn like? She didn't possess the words. Balwyn was Balwyn. But of course this person before her could never understand that. From their brief exchange, she could already tell.

Then again, she doubted anyone could properly appreciate Balwyn Forest as she could. Not even Amelie.... Otherwise, they never would have left.

She stopped leaning against the tree and sighed again, looking over at her own open window. Huh... so he was their neighbor. But he was also asking too many dumb questions. A homesick uneasiness hit her like branch to the gut after a nasty fall. She knew why she didn't want to talk about Balwyn. Sure, it was her only point of reference, but it was home. And she missed it. She missed it way too much.

"I'm going now. Goodbye," she said, thinking herself remarkably polite for doing so.

"Errrr... goodbye? Although, uh, you don't have to talk about Balwyn. If you'd prefer I could shut up and finish the song, at the very least."

Wren didn't stop moving. Now he wanted to shut up? Ha... Reaching her windowsill, she stopped with one foot inside, adjusting her hat as she looked back at him. Her mouth twitched into half a humorless smile.

"No...," she said quietly, storm brewing behind sharp, dark eyes, "No, thanks."

It was time to be alone. Er, as alone as she could be in a place like this. Not only that, but she was tired. Tired of talking so much and tired of listening. The music was nice, but not like the owls and crickets that lived in her trees back home.

"Goodbye."

Regies shrugged. ”Oh well.” he muttered to himself, resigning to the fact that people outside of Roche were both scary and strange alike. Still, he happily continued his song.

---

Amelie's eyes flickered open, the country girl roused by distant noises out the window. It wasn't uncommon for her to have to wake at strange hours. Wren was a strange one herself, after all, and the Balwyn nights would usher in plenty of storms that would require her to keep an eye out for the forest dweller.

A squint towards the dark of their shared room prompted Amelie to reach out with her mind. "Wren? Are you okay?"

Wren left the window open walking across the room to grab her bag and drag it over to Amelie's bedside. She didn't answer right away, sitting down heavily and leaning up against the wall with a small sigh. The ability to link minds, by far, was one of the biggest things she knew she'd have to get used to. As much as she cared for Amelie, it felt strangely intrusive. Like a touch on the inside of her skull-- a touch she'd never experienced before, but a touch nonetheless.

"Yes," Wren answered outloud, fixing some of the stray feathers peaking out of her skirt before hugging her knees tightly. But it suddenly struck her as a little rude-- talking outloud when Amelie was using her mind. So she closed her eyes and tried to open it, surprised to find that when no words came, her emotions spilled forward.

A nigh inconsolable amount of anxiety and regret. Fear and discomfort. Longing and a lack of understanding. Strong and heavy feelings not a single person would likely guess by looking at the small person seated against the wall. Her expression was still calm as she opened her eyes to look at Amelie. She gripped her knees just a little tighter. She hadn't meant to share all that. At least not all at once.

Involuntarily, Amelie curled in on herself as a wave of what she could only describe as stress washed over all the orifices of her mind. She suppressed a grimacing exhale, taking a few moments before she could muster a proper smile. Gods, had Wren been feeling like this the entire time? Her own doubts and regrets began to take shape in her mind but Amelie cut off the connection before Wren could sense the bulk of it. She had enough on her plate already. Hopefully those fears would put themselves to rest over time.

"You can take my blanket if you're cold," Amelie whispered. Something to start with. Current worries could be just as important as the long-term sometimes.

"No," Wren said quickly, the fainted hint of regret in the sound, "I'll be fine." Two birds, one stone. She quickly pulled her own rolled up blanket out of her pack, bringing the dirty, worn fabric up over her mouth as she settled herself against the wall. An uncomfortable frown wormed its way across her lips.

"Sorry," she told Amelie without speaking, careful to choose her words before opening the link this time.

"...I'm sorry too."

What else was she meant to say? Well, mind-say.

"Tomorrow will be a better day. And I won't stop trying that garden until we get you those flowers."

Empty words, but Amelie truly believed them in the moment. She'd make them real and Wren would never feel that desolate again. Amelie would have said more but she was rather curious right now.

"Were you making a new friend out there?"

"Okay," Wren thought, closing her eyes. It was a nice thought, but she wasn't in the mood to get her hopes up, "No... I was talking to Regies. He's... okay. Kinda odd. Talks a lot."

The Rochean who came with the Marquis.

"Heh. Yes, he did seem like the sort at dinner."

A pause.

"Would you prefer I stay here, or can I go and pay him my own visit? I'm sure we'd have to meet him tomorrow either way."

"Do what you want, Amelie," Wren mentally sighed, though it was more out of exhaustion. No judgement, hidden conditions or preference either way.

"Okay. Goodnight, Wren."

Amelie hopped out of bed then, changing quickly. The servant kept company far more graceful herself and though she was far from conveying that sense of wealth and importance, the clothing offered by the estate allowed her to imitate the part at least. She squared her shoulders once she reached the neighbouring room, having followed the sound of lute music. After taking an extended moment to straighten her dress, Amelie knocked on the door.

The faint sound of music was stopped, and replaced by shuffling. After a moment Regies arrived at the door. He greeted Amelie with a warm smile, ”Ah, the Lady Amelie,” it sure was a good thing that Wren dropped by to remind him what her name was. He gave a flourished bow – something he practiced for the sake of not embarrassing Rose-Marie. ”How might I help you tonight?”

One might think that his formal mode of address was due to him being a butler, but really he just thought it was quite a good first impression to make on a lady.

"O-oh," she chuckled, a light flush colouring her cheeks, "there's no need for that!"

A quick curtsy was done in return, more out of the sudden feeling of obligation than anything. These noble types were another thing altogether!

"Regies...Proulx, right? You spoke with Wren earlier?"

He nodded, ”Proulx is correct.” for but a moment he gave a thoughtful look at her question, ”Well, yes, I spoke but there wasn’t much talking, I’m afraid.”

It didn't seem to be much of a problem from the way Amelie giggled.

"Yes, that sounds like Wren alright. Actions speak louder than words, or something of that sort. I hope she wasn't a bother."

Regies shook his head, ”No, no, not at all. I had a cousin that was quite a bit like her, I’m used to… well, y’know.” he relaxed a little, his manner of speaking becoming a touch less formal, ”She did run off in the middle of my song, though. Must not’ve been a very good one.” he said with a small laugh.

A cousin like her? Another forest hermit? The news and subsequent joke made Amelie visibly relieved.

"Oh, no, I'm sure your song was wonderful. Wren loves music too, she just takes a long time to warm up to people." Amelie left the 'if she warms up at all' unsaid. "I'm glad there wasn't a problem. To be honest, it's been a long journey from home and, well, I was afraid of how we'd be received, considering our...lifestyle."

Amelie didn't dare separate Wren's problems from her own. They were in this together.

”Aye… worry not, Amelie, we’re all far from home. At the very least you can expect no judgement from me,” he said with a smile. For a moment he was going to append Rose-Marie’s name to that statement, but… well, perhaps that might not be true, ”Speaking of, Wren mentioned she was from… Balwyn, was it? Although if I’m not mistaken I hear a hint of Rochean in your voice.”

'You're definitely mistaken'. She couldn't say that, could she? Her accent would keep slipping out either way plus she had no idea how long she'd be living with these people.

"Er...well. Balwyn, Roche. Practically neighbours, aren't we?"

"Yes. Of course, makes sense to me."

They were neighbors? News to him. More than a little embarrassing, considering he wasn't entirely sure where Balwyn was.

"What's Balwyn like? I asked Wren but she didn't seem very keen to talk about it."

A fond smile crossed the girl's face. It wasn't just because the issue of her accent had been glanced over.

"The thickest forests in all of Grenheim, and the most beautiful. Outside of those, nothing but farms and quiet villages for miles. The opposite of Ausfeld, really."

All the more reason she shouldn't have dragged Wren along.

"What about Roche? I've, uh, heard some great stories."

"Lovely place! Festivals like no other, and great parties. Beautiful cities, rolling countryside, all that good stuff..." for a moment Regies's eyes lit up as he talked about his home, but he quickly came back to reality. "Oh, by the Gods, great food too! Truth be told, I quite miss it already..."

Amelie laughed. Wren was right about this fellow.

"Sounds like a place worth missing," she grinned, "We'll have to see if this 'destined warriors' deal involves a tour across Grenheim. Balwyn feels like a rather small place most of the time. I'd love to see some sights like the ones you've mentioned."

"Aye, well... I have no doubt that we'll see something, at the very least. I doubt they bothered gathering us so we could hang out in a castle," Regies sighed, making an effort to return Amelie's grin, "I myself haven't been outside of Roche, but sometimes I think that may have been for the best... er, sorry, I probably shouldn't be complaining."

"Yes, it's an...interesting world out there."

The girl forced out a brief chuckle, unsure of how to take that comment. He wasn't disparaging the regions outside of Roche, was he?

"Oh, it's getting rather late, isn't it?" What had she come here to say again? "I should retire soon. I just came to thank you for not chasing Wren away when she came by. It's a relief to know we have at least one friend here."

"Not a problem, Miss Amelie. I'm sure we'll see each other around, and if you or Wren ever wanna chat I'll be here..." he wasn't quite sure where he was going with that sentence, "Have a good night!"

"You too, Mister Regies. We'll see you in the morning."

And with a parting curtsy, she departed.

[Vox Angelis]

Meeting of a Healer and her future patients

Gwen | Yulia | Alistar

𝓝𝓸𝓿𝓮𝓶𝓫𝓮𝓻 𝟕𝓽𝓱, 𝟏𝟑𝟐𝟕 / / 𝓐𝓾𝓼𝓯𝓮𝓵𝓭 / / 𝓒𝓪𝓻𝓻𝓲𝓭𝓪𝓷'𝓼 𝓔𝓼𝓽𝓪𝓽𝓮 / / 𝓔𝓿𝓮𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰

_{Collab by @Riffus Maximus @dragonmancer @Lasrever}

Dinner had been mostly quiet on Gwen's side. The young Ravencroft was too focused looking at her newfound peers and listening to what they had to say. They way the others were dressed, their bearing, it suggested they had quiet a story for themselves, unles the dark-haired girl. She was but a quaint blacksmith, fallen from the grace of of a family that would have been worth speaking about, if it wsn'T for the fact she despised them and did not want to bring public her descent to being a simple peasant, in fear of shaming Alistar.

So she kept mostly to herself. In any case, Gwen was captivated by the tales and the energy of the woman who had recently joined them. But even as Gwen quietly listened, it would seem she still was prone to embarassing herself. Sometime during the dinner, she had stopped eating to focus on the words of their much too talkative companion. When she returned to her plate, Gwen couldn't find her assigned silverware. They just... vanished? Gwen unceremoniously looked under the table, see if she had dropped them, but they were no where in sight. She had politely asked for the ustensils to be replaced, but when her flimsy attention was occupied somewhere else, they vanished again.

Too shy to request any more and without ustensils to eat but with an apetite yearning to be satiated, Gwen gingerly picked at the food in her plate with her own fingers, hoping to be discreet enough and no one would see her eating with her hands. It was frustrating, but she didn't dare disrupt the dinner by asking for another

When dinner was over, the younger Ravencroft offered a slight curtsy bow before joining her brother on the other side of the table, jumping at him enthusiastically and wrapping both arms around one of his.

"How was dinner, Brother? Enjoyed yourself?"

"Tch." Alistar pushed his arm away from her grasp. He adjusted his sleeves as he had already finished his moderate portion of a meal. "It was adequete." The mage responded. He had little interest with conversation, even with his sister. His 'allies' that were seated with him also didn't catch is interest. There were all inferior to him. Not fit to witness his intellect.

"What do you think of it all?"

"I... think it's all very interesting!" Gwen tried to find the right words to say. "Everyone look so different. Like, they all came from different backgrounds. Makes me wonder on which basis we were all chosen. And the way we are treated, yet kept in the dark at the same time. It's very curious."

The girl snuggled closer to her brother even as his arm retreated from her hands. Gwen playfully inched her face from Alistar, twinkles in her eyes as she was apparently very enthusiastic about the whole situation.

"How about you? What do you think of the others so far?"

Having no tolerance in her gaze he continued to brush his sister off for his own personal space. "Hmph, diverse backrounds and yet none of them intrigue me. I was expecting they'd have to select great minds such as myself but these lot are all unimpressive. Foolish even. You are free to mingle with these simpletons all you like. Of everything else? Servicable so far. The resources I am provided and the terms I have to accept are manageable."

"You think? I think it's going to be fun to get to know them." Gwen stated as she looked around, staring at each member of their newfound allies all the while she tried to sneak a hug to her brother, like a clingy hyperactive sister.

As the dinner had ended, Yulia had been prepared to go back to her room with little ceremony. The idea of being served didn't sit well with her, leaving the whole experience to be more than a little uncomfortable; indeed, as the room cleared, she had preferred to try and assist in sorting things out rather than simply leaving. It was that insistence on remaining which had led her to overhear the conversation, a soft smile appearing on her face.

It was amusing rather than insulting, really; Yulia didn't have enough pride to be hurt by such an insult. Besides, it presented an opportunity, and once she was sure they wouldn't say much worth knowing, the servant spoke.

"I'd expect one of such great intellect might know better than to disparage people so publicly. There are ears everywhere in a place like this," her words were honeyed, voice smooth as she approached the pair, "and some know far more than you would think." She glanced between them with a smile. "Sharing a little of your sister's friendliness might go a long way; after all, many of us - myself included - would be eager to know you both."

Gwen smiled when she saw someone aproaching them. Such a pretty-looking lady. And her soft words too. There was something that made the younger dark-haired girl feel reassured by her presence.

The youngest of the Ravencroft however felt slightly nervous however when the woman confronted Alistar about what he just said.

"Oh!" Gwen's word seemingly forced itself out too hard due to her anxiety "P-please forgive me on behalf of my brother. H-He's a bit cranky because of the journey. "

“Neither of you have to apologise. I’m not angry, just offering a word of advice – as someone who does a lot of listening.” Yulia chuckled lightly. “But if it makes you feel better, you’re forgiven.” Of course, without Alexei around she had no reason to avoid a proper introduction. Extending a hand for either of the two to shake, she spoke.

“Yulia Zykova,” there was a pause before she broke into a slightly teasing grin, “simpleton extraordinaire.”

Alistar had kept a light, disinterested scowl on his face as one of his peers spoke to him. He wasn't much interested in her welcoming tone or her humor. Though he had to admit it was somewhat refreshing to speak to someone other then his sister. "Fair enough." He agreed. "But I'm not here to hide my opinions of anyone here, I still hold true to my disdain. I doubt the knowledge I wield is an interest to you, less the others we are forced to co-operate with. I am obligated to offer my services, but don't mistake it as a kind gesture." He didn't shake her hand, but he did return a greeting." I am Alistar, and I carry the blood of the Ravencroft family. My sole duty is the study of the arcane, and nothing else but."

The mage glanced to Gwen who seemed to be excited to socialize. "I have little patience for pleasantries regardless, Gwen is sufficient to answer any general information you need to know about us. You don't need to speak to me unless if you wish for me to enlighten your feeble mind with my studies."

The youngest sibling timidly chuckled, feeling the pressure of her brother's pompous behavior towards their comrade. By the celestial gods, couldn't he try to be a bit nicer? The dark-haired youth could feel the heat rising to her blushing cheeks.

"I-I'm Gwen. Also Ravencroft..." the girl paused before adding "...apprentice blacksmith. It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Yulia."

Gwen diligently accepted her newly introduced comrade's hand for a firm and friendly shake. At the gesture, the blood-red eyed young woman's smile seemed to easen into something more natural and comfortable.

A scholar and a blacksmith, then. Interesting. The brother, Alistar, certainly had quite the ego, though his sister seemed easy enough to talk to. "I've done some studying of the arcane myself; perhaps not to your level, but if you ever wish to speak to someone with an interest, I can grasp a few concepts." It was up to him whether he ever accepted that, but with the idea planted she turned to Gwen.

"I'm only a servant, I'm afraid. Nothing as exciting as either of you." Smiling, she released the young woman's hand. "But it would seem your brother's volunteered you to indulge my curiosity, so... what do the pair of you do? With the bond, I mean. I'm guessing we all have some idea."

"I'd say being here makes you just as exciting as everyone else." The raven-haired pale girl replied to the 'servant' with a friendly chuckle. "Oh, it's... quite grim actually."

Just as Yulia released Gwen's hand, her arm turned pitch-black for a second before a shadowy metal gauntlet enveloped her entire arm. "From what I understood, this gauntlet draws blood from wounds it inflicts and stores it. Brother manipulates blood and bones."

Despite the whole blood scheme, Gwen seemed excited to explain the Ravencroft's magic to someone else. Even though she abandoned magic, unlike Alistar, she was very curious and enthusiastic to the powers they've been granted. She looked expectantly at Yulia, curious as to what power the others were graced with. "What about you? Do you make magic? Do you summon a weapon too?"

Well, the girl hadn't been wrong about calling it a little grim, and Yulia looked over the black gauntlet curiously. It was definitely more unusual-looking than Alexei's sword, as weapons went. She didn't try and touch it, figuring a cut from the sharp edges wouldn't be worth the trouble - that, and she rather fancied keeping hold of her blood. Nonetheless, it sounded useful, if morbid, and she shared in the enthusiasm to an extent. Of course, the question of her own power was easy enough.

"Magic. I heal people." She smiled gently. "I've no ability to protect myself, but I'm glad for it; and I'll no doubt be kept busy with all of you."

"Hmhp." The crossed-arm mage had a sense of pride in his power that Gwen only understood a fraction of it. Truth be told, Alistar wasn't entirely sure of it either. However, the difference between him and her was that he planned on discovering the true depths of his power and the magic around him. Alistar silently watched as the two conversed, a bit reliefed that his sister was finally socializing with someone else.

"Healing will be an important role. You better keep up that responsibility." He said, that was perhaps the best compliment he could muster but it still sounded arrogant and belittling. Perhaps this servant wasn't the dullest of the lot here, but even still, she was merely a pupil compared to his brilliance. That was what he thought at least.

If the dark-haired girl's eyes could glitter, then the look she had right now could be the closest to having sparkles of admiration as the gauntlet surrounding her arm vanished. Before she realized her enthusiasm went a bit too far and too familiar, Gwen had taken the Healer's hands in her own with excitement. "Healing magic!? That's an incredible gift! I can barely imagine all the good that could be done with such talents."

"She'll be a perfect Healer, Brother! I'm sure of it" Gwen assured Alistar as he spoke of responsability. Somehow, the red-eyed girl felt like she could completely trust Yulia. The youngest Ravencroft flashed a bright smile to the other young woman "Don't worry about that. We'll make sure to provide you the protection you need."

Nodding solemnly at Alistar’s reminder of responsibility, Yulia had briefly appeared lost in thought. Her eyes widened in surprise as her hands were grabbed, briefly trying to tug them away from the stronger girl’s grip before she realised it was harmless. At Gwen’s words, she broke into a slightly surprised chuckle. “Well, I feel safer already. I'll do as much good as I can, though I fear I’m far from a perfect anything.”

There she went again, being touchy as usual. Honestly Alistar was just glad it wasn't him this time. The mage simply crossed his arms. “We’ll just have to see. I expect diligent training.” He said with a sort of high and mighty attitude that did not bother to hide his arrogance. “Then I will be able to properly judge if you are truly above a simpleton as you’ve suggested.”

Realizing her misplaced gestures, Gwen giggled nervously as she withdrawed her hands from Yulia's. "Practice makes perfect, as they say." the enthusiastic young lady encouraged both her brother and her new healing comrade. "That's what we're here for after all, apparently."

Growing silent, Gwen tried to hide and stiffle a faint yawn from her mouth. Between the journey to get here, the dinner and the exhaustion from her previous lifestyle, the youngest of the sibling was starting to feel the heavy burden of fatigue weighing heavily on her. But Gwen tried her best to look unfazed by it. There were so much people to meet, so much to know. Plus, she wouldn't want Yulia to think she was boring.

"You said you are a servant? Who's your master exactly? He looks very... noble-ish? Is he a high-ranked member of society?"

Yulia frowned. “It would be improper of me to speak about my master behind his back.” There was a tinge of regret to her expression as she looked towards the siblings. “I’m sorry I can’t be of much help, but it does no good to try and act above my station. Even being served here is… uncomfortable.” She’d caught Gwen’s yawn, of course, glancing at the girl with a smooth smile. A good distraction from the topic.

“Perhaps we might head to our rooms? I imagine we could all use some proper rest today. And if either of you need anything done, well… my master’s orders come first, but it’s no harm for me to offer my skills should you want help.” It was an offer made in part for herself as well as the two; better that she kept herself humble.

"Oh... uhm... yes, good idea." Gwen stammered, realizing her yawn might have prompted this decision. "I would definitely love to make use of you 'services' every now and then. Well, when you are available, of course." Gwen giggled, offering Yulia a smile and a playful wink. Gentle as the Healer was, Gwen felt like she'd love to be friend and spend some leisure time with her.

Yulia’s eyes widened as she looked at the girl’s expression, trying to gauge whether that was an intentional advance or just some incredibly unfortunate phrasing. She paused, looking slightly flustered. “…c-could you perhaps be a little more specific? I’m afraid I don’t quite know what you mean.”

Gwen quirked an eyebrow. Guess she sucked at playing with words. "Ah, I mean, I... uh... would love to hang out with you some other times. As friends, yes!" Words were fumbling out of her mouth as she tried to get out of the embarassing grave she dug herself in. After an uncomfortable pause, she chuckled nervously as she fidgeted with her fingers "I-I'm sorry. I'm such an idiot with jokes."

“N-no, it’s not a problem, I was… surprised, that’s all. You didn’t offend me.” Yulia shook her head, leaving a few seconds of awkward silence as she tried to figure out how to reassure the girl. “And in that case, you’ll be pleased to know my services are freely available.” She laughed lightly, figuring a repeat of the joke might be enough to reassure the red-eyed girl things were fine.

The dark haired girl smiling in return, feeling eased at seeing Yulia was kind enough to accept her offer despite the blunder. Slowly, the youngest Ravencroft scooted slowly towards her elder, sneakily wrapping her arms around one of his. "That's awesome! Then, I guess I'll bid you a good night, Miss Yulia. See you tomorrow!"

"Shall we be going, Brother?" Gwen tugged at Alistar.

Alistar modded once. The servant had much to prove, he’d have to watch her progress later if she truly believed in her worth. For now it was time to rest. “Hmph, yes. I’ll head back to my room.” He turned and began to leave on his own, but of course his younger sister following quickly on his trail, nagging him all the way until the sight of both siblings disappeared as they turned a corner.

[banjoanjo]

Horsing Around

Amelie | Wren | Yulia

_{A Collab by @banjoanjo @Baklava and @Lasrever}

---

𝓝𝓸𝓿𝓮𝓶𝓫𝓮𝓻 𝟖𝓽𝓱, 𝟏𝟑𝟐𝟕 / / 𝓐𝓾𝓼𝓯𝓮𝓵𝓭 / / 𝓒𝓪𝓻𝓻𝓲𝓭𝓪𝓷'𝓼 𝓔𝓼𝓽𝓪𝓽𝓮 / / 𝓜𝓸𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰

---

Horsey Horse Neigh Neigh, Wheeeeeee

Amelie eyed the stable horses warily, as concerned with them this morning as she had been the day before.

They were formidable creatures for sure. Special, with how out of reach they seemed. Outside of the travelling caravans that would pass through their village, the noble beasts were a rare sight. The churchmen had been a notable exception.

Amelie guessed that the horse's back was about as tall as her brow. That didn't seem like a good thing. She'd warned Wren about being trampled for a reason. Nonetheless, the brunette was determined not to fall behind, not while there was a noble in the near vicinity. Her shoulders squared themselves, and she willed her expression to remain still.

It wasn't so different from the one Wren wore, face neutral even while bullets of sweat gathered at the back of her neck. She didn't want to touch the horses, let alone ride them. She had to draw the line somewhere, didn't she?

Wren continued staring at the massive animals as she relayed a voiceless message to her compatriot, "M'not doing this."

As far as riding went, Yulia had no cause for concern; considering who she worked for, she'd been taught some time ago. Unworried by the upcoming lessons, she'd wasted no time in mounting her horse and taking the opportunity to properly look over the other pairs. They seemed... interesting, to put it charitably. Her gaze paused on the nearest two, the brown-haired girl and her dirt-covered companion.

The efforts to conceal their unease were admirable, but a neutral expression did little to hide how tense someone was, and she felt fairly certain of their discomfort. Not experienced riders, by her estimation, which made one pair; she'd have to wait and see how well the twins were faring, as well. She'd been fairly distant towards her partner, oddly enough; but in contrast the smile on her face was warm, all friendly concern - mixed with a little amusement - as she waited for the other pairs to get ready. "You'll get used to them faster than you expect, for what it's worth."

Oof. Were their nerves that obvious? Either way, she accepted the encouragement gratefully.

"Thank you, miss," Amelie bowed her head before turning to Wren. She placed her shaking hand on the seat of the saddle, summoning an encouraging smile. The horse huffed with the contact.

"See? It's not too bad. You don't even have to touch it!"

Were they serious? They couldn't be serious, could they? Wren frowned in alarm, her expression more severe as she looked from Yulia to Amelie.

"No."

"C'mon, just try putting your hand on one like how I'm doing. I heard that horses are really...f-friendly. And shy."

A pause as Amelie willed her hand to stop shaking. It worked, sort of. She got an idea.

"You're not scared of the poor old horsie, are you?" she said out loud, making sure someone outside the pair would hear. Apologies could come later.

What?! Bristling with frustration, Wren's gaze darted to Yulia and the others for a moment before she quickly hissed a response, "No, I am not scared of it."

She scowled, suddenly becoming aware of her partner's game.

"It just--" Wren searched for the words, "What's the point?"

"The longer you take to get on the horse, the more time you'll have to spend with them; they won't let you skip the lesson." Yulia's expression was sympathetic, assuming the girl's partner had little reason to lie about her fears. "As for usefulness, they can travel further than you, and faster, for longer. You'll need to ride, unless you think you can win a race with a horse."

Wren furrowed her brow, as if actually considering the possibility before providing a short nod. Either way, this seemed to be another one of those pesky 'requirements'. The list of which was growing longer and more horrible by the day. Next they'll be asking her sit in a tub of hot water. She sighed through her nose and looked back to Amelie, "You first."

Oh, gods.

Amelie continued grinning painfully. "No...problem...!"

As the girl opened her mouth to ask the instructor for assistance, a loud "Phew! About time, eh?" rang out. Lysandra Aulmoore yawned, trotting lazily around on her own horse.

"Come on, man, help the poor soul out!"

The instructor scowled but did as he was told, pulling out a mounting block he'd prepared for the beginners. He had told them to mount from the midsection, grabbing the reins and front of the saddle with one hand while keeping the stirrup steady in the other. Amelie did exactly that. With a burst of energy in her leg, she pulled her upper body onto the steed. Only her upper body.

"Um..." Amelie shivered, the blatant lack of solid ground against her soles becoming very daunting. The instructor helped her get the other leg over. However the damage had been done. Amelie was seated now, but was bent forward as if attempting to maintain fetal position despite both feet trapped firmly in the stirrups. She didn't dare look up.

"...S-see?" she looked to Wren, trying to follow the instructor's exasperated plea to straighten her back, "N-n-nothing to it..."

Boy, did that sound convincing. Wren frowned, scratching the back of her neck.

Alright. She was doing this. Adjusting her hat, cloak, and gloves, Wren bravely stepped towards her allotted steed. She eyed the horse warily as she took the reigns and side-stepped onto the block, prepared to react in case the animal made any sudden movements. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the tail flick and her head snapped towards it, lips pursing into a long, thin line.

Damnit. She took a deep breath, slipped one foot into the stirrup and jumped, quickly swinging her free leg up between herself and the horse. The resulting position left her gripping the horn and and some stray strap on the saddle while her knee pushed against her nose. She flexed her foot in the stirrup to little avail. Gods, why was this dumb thing so big?

Not wanting to be interfered with as Amelie had been, Wren grit her teeth and flailed until she finally managed to pull herself the rest of the way up. All the way up. All that tree climbing was paying off. Crouched with both feet planted in the seat, Wren cautiously gripped the saddle, choosing a position that would allow her to bail quickly should she need to.

The smallest trace of a satisfied smile pulled at her lips as she stared at the horse beneath her. She'd done it!

"...That doesn't look--nngh!" Amelie collapsed back into her crouched position, the will to push herself upright lost when the horse shifted below her.

Yulia had been finding a little more entertainment from the pair's struggle than she should have, but that changed as the smaller one leaped onto the saddle. Mentally preparing herself to rush over when this went horribly wrong, she stared at the girl in genuine bewilderment. "S-sit down! You'll fall!"

"Hm?" Wren glanced at the the woman with an offended frown. Her? Fall? Not a chance. And she wasn't about to start hugging the horse for dear life. Besides, this way seemed better. She felt much more in control. Choosing to ignore the advice, Wren reached for the reins. Now how was she supposed to get this thing going again?

"Oooh. Impressive, but that won't do, little girl," Aulmoore shrugged. She seemed disappointed that she wouldn't be able to see someone ride standing up, "If you want to get her to move, you need to squeeze her with both legs. Sitting."

Wren glowered. Who the hell was she calling little girl? Urgh. And what did she mean by 'squeeze'? She didn't want to think about having to wrap her legs around the creature. Thinking for a moment, Wren lowered her torso closer to the horse, reaching her arms out on either side. Maybe she could imitate it?

Temporarily dropping to one knee, Wren firmly clapped her hands on either side of the horse. Squeezing quickly shifted into scratching as the horse's body lurched forward. Her fingers dug into the side of the saddle as her balance entirely abadoned her. It was moving too much! She couldn't grab on!

Sucking air through her teeth in place of a scream, Wren unexpectedly began to slide right off the side of the horse. "Oof!" she attempted a one legged jump to get away, covering her head and rolling as she hit the ground. Thankfully the horse stepped over her and soon came to a stop, leaving the stubborn hermit curled up in a small cloud of dust.

Watching the girl topple, Yulia couldn’t feel too sympathetic, a muttered “told you so,” accompanying her own – far more deliberate – dismount. With a frown, she looked over to the crumpled heap on the floor, concern creeping in. At least the horse hadn’t trampled her, or there'd be far more to worry about. “Are you hurt?”

Wren laid there in defeat for a moment, reflecting on the events which had brought her there. Yes, it seemed horse riding was an activity best done seated after all. It was a mistake not to listen-- just as much as it was a mistake to come here. At the nearing voice, Wren pushed herself onto all fours, indignantly glancing up at Yulia for a moment before sighing. "Yes," she responded, a little dustier than before, but overall fine save for a red scrape on her cheek. Her layers of dingy clothing had at least accomplished that much. She quickly stood, not bothering to brush off the dirt as she straightened her hat and cloak. She frowned at several of the petals and leaves left behind on the ground, quickly picking up one particular twig of rosemary which was still in tact.

Yulia looked at the scrape, appearing to contemplate something for a couple of seconds before nodding to herself. Usually, she’d save her magic for something more dangerous, but she could handle riding a little tired, especially if it earned her some goodwill. Next time she’d bring some medical supplies. After a few seconds, the cut was healed, though Yulia noticeably winced upon the spell’s completion. Speaking loudly enough for the whole group to hear, she forced a slight smile.

“Try not to fall too often. I’m happy to help with any injuries, but it’s a little more straining than I’d like.”

Meanwhile, Amelie had been doing her best to dismount; a rather hapless effort since the instructor had been too distracted by Wren's fall to help her down. She eventually got it. After finally freeing her foot from the stirrup, Amelie swung her leg over with what seemed like a bizarre, horizontal cartwheel, landing in a splits-esque position with one foot still in the remaining stirrup.

"She's fallen from worse," Amelie panted, winded from the sudden spike of panic and still reeling from the height of the horse, "But that was way too close, Wren."

She turned to Yulia. "Thank you for your kindness. I hope it didn't tax you too much."

“Well…” Yulia yawned, turning to head back towards her horse. It wasn’t an entirely pleasant experience, to say the least. The suddenness of the fatigue seemed to have taken her by surprise, but she waved off the concern with a small smile. “It’s not so terrible. You never know, the practice might do me good.”

Wren rubbed at the smooth place on her cheek where the scrape once was, not fully comprehending who was responsible at first. She spent a good amount of time trying to find it. She hardly noticed Amelie when she spoke to her.

When it seemed as though Yulia might be returning to her horse, Wren spoke up, "How did you do that?"

Yulia paused, looking back at the girl with a smile. “It’s magic, of course. One of you two should have your own, if I'm not mistaken. Mine heals.”

"Wren is the mage in our pair," Amelie smiled, relieved. "It's really cool."

Wren pursed her lips. It was cool... but maybe not that cool. Healing injuries immediately like that seemed like a pretty useful trick. At least her abilities could keep people from bothering her too badly. She chose not expand beyond a small shrug.

“Is that so? In that case, I’ll look forward to seeing it.” Yulia nodded towards Wren - seemingly respectfully - before looking over to their instructor and grimacing. As much as she’d have liked to ask for some more information now, they did have a lesson to continue after all. Her smile became apologetic as she stepped away. “While I’d love to hear more from you both, maybe that should be saved for another time. I fear our teachers might be getting a little impatient.” With that, the servant departed, heading away to remount her horse.

[Vox Angelis]

A friendly sparring session

Heinrich | Maria
Liv | Vitus
Alistar| Gwen

𝓝𝓸𝓿𝓮𝓶𝓫𝓮𝓻 𝟖𝓽𝓱, 𝟏𝟑𝟐𝟕 / / 𝓐𝓾𝓼𝓯𝓮𝓵𝓭 / / 𝓒𝓪𝓻𝓻𝓲𝓭𝓪𝓷'𝓼 𝓔𝓼𝓽𝓪𝓽𝓮 / / ��𝓸𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰
_{Collab with [@RiffusMaximus] @GreenGoat @PapiTan @Chasers115 @dragonmancer}

She yawned, one hand up to cover her mouth, rocking her feet back and forth on the shoulders of her massive servant.

Maria wasn't really the type of person who wakes up at the crack of dawn; she wasn't some lowly soldier after all. But here she was training with some... well, a few of the best. The rest were riff raff she would rather flay, string up then set them on fire to light her garden with. That, or just have them come with her to play.

Either would be fine really.

But for today, it would seem they were meant to learn how to fight, sparring and hand to hand and all that. She wasn't sure if they knew what they were doing, but perhaps someone was a sadist if they put her and Heinrich in this particular lineup.

"Well, I hope everyone have fun." She said, smiling brightly. Without losing that smile, she bent over, whispering in her servant's ear. "Just don't kill them. Everything else is fine."

"Fun. Yes! Fun is important!" the giant of a man added enthusiastically as he looked over the rest of his training crew, a grin as wide as he could muster on the prospect of sparring with those present. All the stronger-looking fellows were sent to other training units, much to his dismay. Not that everyone else seemed that strong to begin with. There was, however, that black-haired girl among them. She looked a bit quaint, akin to a peasant, but he could see some muscles showing on her skin. Perhaps she'll prove to be more of a challenge than the others here.

Still, challenges was not what he was mainly looking for. Upon the whispered words of his mistress, it was hard for him to have a grin larger than it already was, but some of his sadistic hints flashed through his smile. Oh, the fun he was going to have with these puny toys.

Nodding, Heinrich moved to the circle of freshly overturned dirt. As his naked feet stepped on the moist soil, he could already feel at home, right in this ring. It reminded him of the arena's sand and of the fresh blood he spilled there. Oh yes, he could already imagine ripping one of these fellows their arms and beat them to unconsciousness. Or was it too much to start with?

Reaching the center, the goliath looked to the others with his creepy haunting smile, reflecting the little lady's on his shoulders. He popped a few of his aching joints, result of a night spent sleeping on the floor. Not that he wasn't used to sleeping uncomfortably, but his body still felt it even after all these years.

"C'mon, who's first! Let's see what ye guys got!"

Although they've completely changed their lodging, waking up early seemed to follow Gwen however lifestyle she chose to follow. When morning came and she had been woked up to take part of this morning's training exercises, the youngest of the Ravencroft found no issue at rising up from her bed and prepare herself for the day.

She quickly had put together a simple outfit fit for someone going to work; trousers and a plain white short-sleeved shirt. Really, all that was missing was her apron, and she'd think she was going to work the forge yet again today.

Gwen went to find her brother to his room, enthusiastic about what this first day at the Carridan's manor, then headed to the training grounds.

The girl looked around, watching the others as everyone was separated into three teams. She couldn't tell if it was a blessing to be of those in the sparring lessons' group, or if whoever was commanding here had weird sense of humor. Looking over the colossus happily heading to the patch of dirt, she was slightly creeped out by his appearance. She could commend his enthusiasm at the task though.

Unsure about the whole situation, Gwen turned to the owner of the estate.

"So, uh... how do we proceed?"

"First," Carridan looked over the few that had joined him at the rings of dirt: a barely-clothed giant, his owner, two men who looked like they would lose to a fly, a street rat, and a woman who at least looked like she could hold her own in a fight. This was an odd bunch, to say the least. "Stances. I need to know which of ya'll know how to not get knocked on your ass. After that, I might throw two of you in a ring to judge your skill. None of ya magical powers allowed, a'course."

Carridan's face seemed to immediately brighten up as he began to speak about training, the man's general demeanor sounding more realistic for a general than the doom and gloom that he had presented only moments ago. Despite this his hand was still gripping the paper, now crumpled into a ball in his fist, with a worrying tightness. "Any other questions?"

"Yes, I do have a question, my good sir!" Vitus said, not bothering to raise his hand and instead simply stepping forward. Eyes passed over the rest of the group as he did; these folks looked like they knew nothing of proper sparring - and he doubted the big man would even be able to operate such a delicate device.

"Where are the foils? Surely you can't expect us to properly spar without the necessary equipment!"

Oh heavens, they weren't supposed to bring their own rapiers, were they? He hadn't even considered that a possibility! Of course, an estate such as this would have some around somewhere...ah, but he'd have to balance it, and find one that was perfectly weighted for him. What a hassle.

Dalgen Carridan felt a headache coming on.

"Are you blind, deaf, or both?" Carridan asked the question with full sincerity. "I've only got one good eye, and enough ringin' in my ears to drown out just 'bout anyone, but not even I would ask such a damn stupid question." He sighed, motioning towards the rack of weapons that stood clear as day behind him. "You won't be using no damn rapiers either. Only used by weaklin's who are too scared to actually fight. We ain't duelin' for sport round here, boy. War is life and death." Dalgen turned his head towards the weapons for a moment, glancing over the arsenal until his eyes settled on exactly what he was hoping to find.

"Actually," Dalgen started towards the rack, "how about we give ya' a little wake-up call? I've never been fond of you prissy high-born types. It'll be fun to knock a little sense into ya." He picked a sword off the rack: a rapier. The blade itself was relatively boring, long and thin as it should be, but with an extravagant hand guard that seemed designed only to show off. All together the thing was beautiful, it wasn't much else, but it was nice to look at. Carridan flicked his wrist, and sure enough a faint glow followed the sword's path. He moved back to his trainees and handed the weakling his sword of choice.

"I know a few mages who can make a blade harmless, better for training than a dull sword. You can swing with all your might and ya wont shatter anythin', though it might hurt like hell. Not that ya can hurt anythin' with that poor excuse for a weapon, but still." Carridan pointed Vitus towards the nearest of the dirt rings before turning his attention to the mountain of a man. "You look ready to kill someone. Take your pick," he gestured to the weapon rack.

Heinrich looked at the two men talking, his grin only growing larger as how hilarious the situation was turning out to be. He saw rapiers being used in the arena. Thin blades made for quick assaults, but beyond that, he wasn't impressed. It was a puny armament. Heinrich could still remember the time he used one itself. Grabbed it by the foil as his opponent swung it at him, yanked away from the man, then thrusted it right into his adversary's eyeballs.

Fun times...

The large blonde man nodded at Carridan, walking over to the rack of weapons with an ever-growing sadistic smile. So much choice, it was just like back then. Usually, he'd fight with something light and good reach, like a spear or a trident. Things changed however. He saw the collosal weapon that was going to be his slaughter partner from now on. While everyone was here training, he might as well start picking up on training with the same type of weapon.

And so there it was, the weapon Heinrich would use to spar with the puny little man. A large morningstar.

"I am." the goliath replied simply, with a grin that would say more than his words.

There were far too many words while Vitus was reminicing about his fencing experiences. There had been that one lady who was so full of fire - she'd been a thrill to go up against, even if he had lost. Truly, that was a exhilarating experience, likely for the both of them. Of course, he'd never asked, but he knew his assumptions were correct.

He was still talking. Skies above, this man talked a lot.

Of course, he'd have to show the layabouts what true sparring was like. Perhaps he'd go easy. Or would it be better to demonstrate his skill first, to prove his standing amongst them? An interesting conundrum he had ahead of him; maybe he'd just play it by ear and see how he was feeling in the moment.

His attention was drawn back as a rapier was handed to him. Finally some decent service around these parts, and all he had to do was ask!

And then the goliath stepped in. Holding a very big, and very dangerous looking weapon in his hands. Good lord, this man was very large.

"I'm sorry my large, hulking, friend. I do think you've misunderstood the man, though I'm not surprised."

With the confidence of a man who had not realized his fate, Vitus turned to Carridan. "Go on, tell our resident behemoth his mistake."

Inside the ring of dirt, Vitus made the one mistake no fighter should allow themselves to do in the arena.

Do not turn your back to your opponent!

As the nobleman turned to speak with Carridan, Heinrich closed in, like a wolf stalking his prey. A large hand reached to grab the quaint man by the back of his collar, lifting him a foot above ground before throwing him to the ground, face first in the dirt, and placing a firm and giant foot on his head.

Then came down his large morningstar. It crashed just mere inches away from Vitus' face.

"Rule one: Don't turn yer back to yer foe." Heinrich snarled, retreating his foot from the rapier-wielding guy's head before delivering a kick to his sides.

Vitus had felt the hand on the back of his collar, and had been halfway through turning around to kindly ask the giant to wait his turn when he was lifted. Then, just as quickly as he was in the air, he was on the dirt, bouncing slightly against the surface of the area. Something impacted very close to his head, though he could not look to see it with something heavy forcing his face into the dirt. He let out a slight grunt of pain as the same heavy object impacted him in the side of the ribs, rolling him over onto his back.

Vitus quickly scrambled to his feet, quite undignified as he did so. He was covered in mud, he'd just been manhandled by a brute, and most importantly, he was covered in mud.

"HOW. DARE." Vitus hissed, brushing the largest spots of dirt off his outfit.

"How dare you, sir? Perhaps you do not learn the finer arts of sparring in whatever brutish town or leather-themed brothel you come from, but I will not be humiliated in such a manner! Especially not by a ruffian such as yourself, no matter how monstrous you may be!"

Liv was aware that she probably should have said something before Vitus went to a sparring match with a man that looked more like a behemoth than a human. She was acutely aware that under normal circumstances, her bonded partner would probably die within a few minutes of entering an actual fight. She was aware of all these things, and yet the thief didn't say anything, only watched as the "sparring" match began and promptly ended.

And Vitus was still talking.

"Maybe ya don' wanna insul' the guy beatin' yer hide?" Liv called to her partner, eyes trailing toward the morning star that had slammed into the ground a little closer to her benefactor's face than comfort would have allowed in normal circumstances. The territorial part of her reared its head, vicious, angry, and wanting to step into the so-called "fight" to assert her claim over her property. The smart part of her kept her feet planted in place, aware that her slight frame and largely limited experience in straight combat would have her faring little better than Vitus. "Jus' an idea."

Alistar had been a bit further back from the group in comparison to the crowd. All the while standing as he watched these fools embarrass themselves. One of them, the obnoxious one he recognized from dinner, had gotten thrown due to his incompetence and complaining to the group. His other teammates didn't seem that impressive for this situation either. Then again, their opponent was a giant hulking figure. He wasn't one to talk, however. He had no place in hand to hand combat. "What a bunch of.." Alistar cut himself off to get to his point. "To think my talents would be squandered in such a barbaric exercise. I am not some violent brute, my hands were meant for magic not melee." The mage complained out loud to the group. "No matter, I'd only get in your way if I tried to 'assist' in this little game. I trust you are all more proficient at the talents of a simpleton."

He had glanced to his sister, Gwen, for a brief moment. "Don't dissapoint me."

Gwen nodded, seemingly excitedly with twinkles in her eyes as she looked up to her brother "Just you watch!"

Meanwhile, the giant pushed a long, exhasperated sigh. Those people sure were carefree idiots. They won't stay alive for long, that much he could tell.

"Ye guys talk too much..." Heinrich grunted as he started walking towards his adversary, wrapping a hand around the handle of his morningstar and lifting it from the small crater it made. "Less talk, more fight!" he roared as he swung the giant spiked mace at the pompous little man.

Vitus turned to glare at Liv. Of all the people here he should have expected her to be backing up for him the mos-

Wait. No. Obviously not. What was he even thinking?

"He's not 'beating my hide', Liv! He simply caught me off guard!" he shouted at the sidelines, turning back towards his opponent to berate him some more. Fortunately for his lifespan, he turned at just the right moment to see the goliath begin his swing, and let out something between a shout of alarm and a tiny baby yelp.

He took a step backwards, a large oval of light appearing behind him. A similar oval appeared right in the area passed by the giant swing, and as Vitus stepped through the slightly shimmering doorway, he appeared on the other side of the attack, out of harm's way.

Of course, this left an opening for him, which he gladly took. Jabbing the large man's lower rib area once with his rapier, he drew back and stood at attention, a cocky grin appearing on his face.

"Point for me, Colossus!"

How unexpected. And yet, Heinrich could only but grin at all this. Finally, the guy was showing some backbone, even if it meant using his magic when ordered not to.

As the rapier poked onto his side, a slight wince of pain crossed his face but was shortly replaced by a grin of delight. As if... he was relishing onto the faint amount of pain he got from the poke.

"Yes! More!" The titan roared with a demented grin, breking into a charge as he threw his body and weapon at the bold duelist.

Meanwhile, having since abandoned her seat at the giant's shoulders the moment he was picked out, Maria was inspecting the array of sharp metal lined up in the rack. She had not the first idea of how to fight, but she was sure a piece of metal even if it was on some sort of foppish weapon everyone disapproved of would kill anyone should it get lodged in anyone's chest. Maria did have experience in.... hurting people after all; there were places one could stick a sharpened rod in and still leave the person alive, and places where... they did not.

She picked up a rapier with a cup hilt, one almost as tall as she was and started swinging it. It did look rather nice; she can't fault the guy for wanting to use it.

Deciding she wanted to use it, Maria started playing with it as she sat down near the others, or rather, near Liv. She looked so deliciously soft Maria couldn't help but wonder... .

"Hi." She smiled her brightest smile, trying to remember Liv's name."Liv right? And he's your uh... "master she wanted to say, but he hardly seemed the sort. In fact, she was sure he couldn't even be master to a dog if he tried.

"Companion right? He sure seems confident of himself." She said as the sparring session escalated.

So much for not using magical powers. Liv watched with moderate interest as her partner continued sparring, somehow managing to almost hold his own with magic on his side--but that was of little consequence. The dark-haired thief focused instead on the hulking brute, gauging his reactions, trying to work out in her mind's eye how fast each motion happened, mentally creating simulations of how fast she would have to act in order to evade. There was no doubt that in an actual fight, she would have lost. No doubt that even with Vitus's quick little portals, he would probably be flattened. Narrowing her eyes, Liv made a mental note to avoid crossing paths with the giant if possible. No matter how lithe and nimble she was, a misstep would mean a caved skull.

'Well, s'not like I was plannin' on fightin' him straight on if--' Liv cut the thought short as someone approached. The smallest of their motley little crew, but she'd been sitting on the giant's shoulder earlier. What was her name? Liv racked her mind to introductions the night before, struggling to recall the names. M...M...agdalene? No, too long. Millie...? No...

Oh for hell's sake, it was a name she'd had before, wasn't it?

"Uh, yeah, 's my partner." The thief murmured, her gaze trailing over the girl. The rapier in the smaller figure's hands was far from comforting, sending a faint thrill of apprehension up Liv's spine. Blades near her that were not in her hands usually weren't the makings of a good situation--but that had been on the streets. Right. It would be fine. Fine. "'s um...airogunt. Thought he'd do worse though." Then again, as her eyes fell back on the sparring match, Liv grimaced faintly. There were only a few ways to match or do worse than what Liv had expected, to be fair. "'s yer name again? I don' do so well rememberin' names."

More? But they were supposed to reset after a point. He doubted, of course, that the man knew this. He'd likely never even been able to witness a prop-

"EEP!" Vitus squealed in response to the giant's roar, quickly backpedaling away from the charge. In fact, he backpedaled straight through another of his shimmering doorways, this time appearing directly behind the mountainous man as he charged forward. He unwisely aimed to deliver another sharp jab before the beast could get out of range of his thrust.

Yet another disappearing act. While he could commend the puny man's ressources to fight, his magical tricks started to annoy Heinrich. Again, he felt the faint poke of the dulled rapier on his back.

That was it.

Feet digging into the fresh turned soil, the colossus brought his charge to an end abruptely. If he couldn't catch that teleporting mage, then he will have to use more brutal methods.

With a wrathful roar, Heinrich tossed his large spiked club at Vitus.

With Vitus's own wrathful roar (or rather, a frightened squeak), he conjured another portal to his side, stumbling through very quickly. In all honesty, he hadn't really needed to use a portal, as he'd set the end point to be slightly to the side anyway.

Still, he stumbled awkwardly out, whirling around to see the large spiked club sail off. This big fella could really do some damage if he wanted to.

Heinrich had expected his sparring partner to appear behind him again, but he did not, instead teleporting slightly to the side. Keeping the pressure, the blonde giant of a man manifested a gigantic weapon in his hands, the unholy hybrid of a bone club and a scythe that was almost as big as the man himself.

Again, he tossed his massive weapon at Vitus, but he broke into a charge shortly after.

Vitus's tactic remained basically the same, only he didn't actually turn around in time to get the chance to conjure a portal. Instead, he awkwardly dodged backwards, landing on his backside as the weapon narrowly soared over his head, and hopping back up to his feet with confidence.

How many weapons did this guy have anyway?

Or at least, that was thought he had before he looked up to see Heinrich barreling down on him.

All according to plan.

As Vitus reappeared, the poor man was hit by the mountain of muscles as if a carriage ran through him. Bracing for impact, Heinrich tackled Vitus with his shoulder, throwing both himself and his victim to the ground. Forcefully grabbing the puny man's hand, the behemoth ripped the rapier from him to toss it away.

With a vicious and sadistic look in his eyes, Heinrich found one of his huge hand wrapping around Vitus' neck. The pressure was not enough to strangle him, but it definitely would make him struggle to breathe.

"Who's got the point now, puny man?"

He was being choked to death. As he unsucessfully attempted to squirm his way out from under the behemoth, he felt his air supply dwindle. This had never happened to him before - he'd never been throttled. Hell, he'd never even throttled anybody himself. He was going to die here, crushed under the body of a man who knew nothing of proper fencing, and whose breath smelled terrible.

Well that just wouldn't do! Not for Vitus Aylous!

Underneath Heinrich, buried in the mud, a small sigil appeared. It flashed once, like a round of gunpowder going off, before the giant would be flung 10ft. up into the air.

Caught surprised by Vitus' strange magic, Heinrich was flung up into the air, still holding onto the dirtied nobleman. Too much weird things happening too fast, not enough time to react. A gruesome idea had crossed into Heinrich's mind to try and make it so Vitus would be underneath the colossus just as they came crashing onto the ground.

But then, he recalled his mistress' words.

"Just don't kill them. Everything else is fine."

As they reached peak height of the teleporter's powers, Heinrich simply decided to let go of Vitus. Rather, he simply decided to fling him downwards back to gravity's grasp. As for himself, Heinrich tried the best he could to cushion his landing, but he only just fell on his back hard.

A gasp of pain escaped his mouth as he fell the brunt of the impact onto his spine. If one would pay close attention to the bone scythe the large man had throw at Vitus earlier, they would notice a faint crimson glow emanating from the weapon just at the same time its owner hit the ground. The very faint red glow seemed to also originate from the big guy.

The pain... it was exquisite! And so was this rush of power that came with it.

Maria looked at her hand holding the rapier, then towards Heinrich. Ah, so the fool finally managed to hurt him enough to feed Heinrich's ability.

"Maria Abigail Tepes." She extended a hand towards Liv. "Pleasure to meet you."

Tch, how dare you forget my name. I should flay you and leave your corpse out for the crows to peck. Her expressions did not betray her thoughts, as she simply grinned and sidled closer.

"Say, will you be my sparring partner next?" There was a hint of of a pleading whine in her voice, not unlike a puppy trying to coddle food out of people. "I have no experience in fighting, and I fear most here would just beat me over the head like brutes."

Liv glanced at the offered hand, hazel eyes seeming to reflect a moment of uncertainty.

'Uh...' She racked her mind for similar situations--right. Handshake. With a trace of hesitation, something more grudging than politic, Liv carefully took the hand with her own.

"Nice to meet ya too." The action was rapid, her own hand quickly withdrawing, relief flooding the Liv as soon as her hand was free. Relief was soon replaced by discomfort as Maria moved closer, and Liv's attention was quickly removed from her partner and the hulking figure, now surreptitiously placed on the girl beside her. Red flags--too close. Impulsively, the rogue placed one hand over where she would normally have placed her pilfered goods.

"'m--" Liv paused, glanced at the others in the vicinity. The dark-haired girl, Vitus, the giant, and another male that looked like he would have been the other option to avoid the worst case scenario. It probably wasn't fair, really, for Liv to accept a sparring match with someone smaller than her, and even moreso against someone that seemed to be completely inexperienced in fighting, but the dark-haired "knight" was more interested in her own wellbeing than any concept of "fair". "...sure, I can do that."

Vitus was just being thrown around like a doll. It wasn't something he was used to, it definitely wasn't something he was enjoying, but it also wasn't anything he could control. For the second time, Vitus hit the ground hard, laying there for a little bit longer than he had the first iteration.

Maybe there was just no shame in calling it quits. After all, someone as fine as himself had to know when it was best to stop dirtying his hands.

Vitus stood up slowly on shaky legs, like a newborn fawn. His eyes flicked over to where Heinrich was sprawled out on the ground, a small grin forming on his face. Maybe he'd taken down the buffoon after all!

Unfortunately for Vitus, pain was a driving motivation for the goliath. The pain made him stronger, more resilient. After a few seconds of laying down still, an eerie laugh erupted from his mouth, Oh, just how long had it been since he had this much fun in a fight. Regaining his bearings, Heinrich slowly got back up to his feet, thanks his spine being more or less in good condition with the fall.

"Nice tricks ye got there. That'll do to live for a minute more."

Oh cripes.

Vitus watched as the behemoth towered to his full height again, standing in what could be described as awe. Clearly, this was going nowehere fast for him. All he'd managed to do at this point was get himself hurt and dirty his attire.

"Well then! I would say we are equally matched, my good sir. I propose a draw!" Vitus said, attempting his best to stand tall in the face of adversity.

The tall man paused, his face looking as if he had an encouter with the epitome of stupidity. With a mixture of disdain and a sadistic grin, the giant only resumed his march forward with slow but menacing steps. "

"What're ye sayin'? In the arena, there's no draw. In a fight, there's only one victor. We train 'till one can't move a finger, little man!"

"Wh-?" Vitus stammered, taking an unsure step backwards. Was this man a lunatic?

"I'm sorry friend." he grimaced internally at the use of the word 'friend'. "But I think you're mistaken. This is sparring, not some barbaric arena fight."

"Sparring is training. We train to fight. Half-assed fights means you're dead meat."

Heinrich continued walking forward, a giant step bringing him closer to the backpedaling little man.

"Heinrich."

Maria spoke without raising her voice, but it carried clearly across the circle.

"That is enough. Tis obvious who had won." Her eyes crinkled up slightly as she smiled. "Surely you do not mean to trample upon this man's pride some more?"

Her eyes spoke a different story. Stop now, or that man might die. A misconduct on his part meant tarnishing her image, their reputation. For now, they should focus on their first impressions. It was, after all, just training. If Maria needed someone dead, they would be dealt with in a more discreet manner.

As the behemoth closed in on Vitus, giant hand reaching out for his neck, Heinrich stopped dead in his tracks as soon as he heard his mistress' voice. There was a clear displeased look on his face as he complied to Maria's order.

"A'right..."

The colossus' hand wavered to the side, reaching for the nobleman's shoulder instead. Heinrich gave Vitus a large grin, giving him a friendly brutal pat on his shoulder.

"Ye fought good, boy. Will be lookin' forward for more trainin'."

With that being said, and forcing himself to a friendlier façade to benefit his mistress' image, the blonde gladiator retreated from the ring of dirt to join his mistress' side.

Vitus, who had only just now decided that it was probably a good time to start cowering, let out an audible sigh of relief. Thank goodness the little one had called her monster off - there was no telling what a brute of that caliber would do to someone like him. Surely, the jealousy and rabidness must have been at an all time high with this group.

Steadying himself, Vitus's whole body was nearly toppled over at the large man's pat. He gave an unsure smile, brushing off the spot where the mad had, yet again, dirtied his attire. "Yes. You fought adequately as well. I look forward to sparring in a more...controlled environment.

That was a lie, of course. He'd be caught dead before he ever went up against the big man again.

It was obvious that Dalgen Carridan was distracted. Under normal circumstances, he would have stopped things as soon as they had started to get out of hand, but based on what he had seen these were not normal circustances. The old man had stalked off from the training grounds, stumbling towards the treeline. He held a rifle in his hands. He wasn't an amazing shot with only one good eye, but he needed to be armed. It seemed that no one had noticed the old General's actions until it was too late.

By the time Hounds and other churchmen ran to where Dalgen was, he had disappeared into the woods.

[Bubsy 2]

Down Range

Regies | Rose-Marie
Gabe | Arden

𝓝𝓸𝓿𝓮𝓶𝓫𝓮𝓻 𝟖𝓽𝓱, 𝟏𝟑𝟐𝟕 / / 𝓐𝓾𝓼𝓯𝓮𝓵𝓭 / / 𝓒𝓪𝓻𝓻𝓲𝓭𝓪𝓷'𝓼 𝓔𝓼𝓽𝓪𝓽𝓮 / / 𝓜𝓸𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰
_{Collab with @Diggerton @GreenGoat @January @RedDusk}

Rose-Marie had no problems with waking up early.

What she did have a problem with was the treatment they were getting. This certainly wasn't something she was expecting when they spoke about training. In fact, this seemed to be normal drills one would do to train their troops; nothing wrong with that, but it seemed highly unsuitable for training people such as her. Each of them had their own abilities to hone. If they needed troops, then by her father's sword she could and would take a hundred men and train them to be real soldiers. But this sort of training certainly was unsuited for their needs in her opinion.

But in any case, at least Regis could be trained to shoot a musket. She knew he had never truly had need to train in fighting, considering that wasn't his job and certainly nothing he was expected to do at a regular basis, but at the very least, not fumbling when trying to fill the pan with gunpowder would be an improvement.

"Hmm, perhaps this training is for the benefit of the others" She sighed, as she looked towards Regis. "Perhaps it would do you some good to learn as well."

Regies grimaced, “Oh. Oh geez.” he said abruptly, clearly not very happy at the suggestion, but he let out a quick cough, “I mean, uh, if you see fit m’lady. I can… put… an effort into that.” indeed, he had never been much of a fighter. In that aspect his aspirations outshone his ambition, “I… uh… suppose that learning such a skill might come in useful, if we’re going to keep up with this whole bond business."

“Although…” Regies had certainly tried shooting in the past to little avail, a fact that he had no doubt Rose-Marie was well aware of. “Well, I hope this goes better than last time.” he said, directing a nervous smile at her.

Meanwhile, Gabe kept a respectful distance from the well-dressed lady and her servant, glancing curiously at the muskets they were going to practice shooting. He had seen them before; many noblemen prefered them over simple bows and arrows in their hunting trips. But he had never touched them or even seen one up close. They had always been too expensive for people from his social class.

"Welcome to the shooting range," Dinn Lemare announced as he approached the group he was assigned to train. The man had shed much of yesterday's formal attire, dressed down instead for the occasion in simpler trousers, a belt with various cases and compartments, and a fitted tunic. Much of his clothes, however, remained subtly embroidered with the fine stitching of class and wealth, a reminder that he was still their superior. "It may look shabby compared to the rest of the place, but that's because we anticipate a lot of accidents. We won't be wasting the more refined locations until you lot have a better grasp of your powers."

One of his Hounds carefully handed the man a long, sleek rifle polished to a shine along its gleaming, steel barrel and black wood stock.

"Some of you may have seen these before, but this is a gun. Specifically, a rifle. These longer types are for ranged attacks but regardless of their category they are all dangerous. If you've handled a crossbow before, you'll know what a trigger is. If you haven't, this is the trigger." He grasped the barrel and the stock of the gun, holding it up horizontally so the small lever was visible. After a moment of panning the view back and forth, Lemare flipped the gun upright so the stock rested against the ground.

"Now, before you can even attempt to fire this, you need to master the art of loading it. It's a task in its own right. Pay attention."

Slowly, but with a practiced ease, he pulled a tightly rolled wax paper packet from one of the pouches on his belt, the thin cylinder filled with the main powder charged. Deft motions untwisted one end of the cylinder and poured the black powder down the gun's muzzle. Another tight packet revealed a small sphere of iron which he eased deep into the gun with a long, thin rod from the same Hound who had brought the gun. Once that was complete, he hefted the gun into a more natural position, cocking back the hammer and opening a small chamber on top, near the rifle's stock.

Pointing to a piece of flint attached to the hammer, he stated the obvious. "This is a piece of flint. It strike this frizzen here--" he tapped a small piece of steel directly ahead of the flint "--which lights up the powder that I'm about to pour in the pan here--" the same finger pointed at the small opening right below the frizzen "--and you'll hear a crack of unholy thunder before your target keels over dead. Assuming your aim is true."

He pulled out one more packet of powder, tipping the opening into the pan before closing the small lid and wrapping a tiny cloth strip around the frizzen. "No one's firing anything today, and I don't need any accidental discharges so before you even test the weight of your rifle I'll need you all to grab those torn cloth pieces from the bin near the guns and wrap it around here," he instructed, pointing to the frizzen again. "When you pull the trigger, this little flint piece strikes the steel bit here and sets off a spark. That spark turns into hellfire and thunder and you're not ready for that until I see you loading and cleaning like the lightning itself. So get to it. I'm here for any questions, but the final rule for today is to keep your finger off that trigger until you're ready to kill something. Or someone. If we make decent headway, you can practice holding it properly, like this." He knelt and rested the stock against his shoulder, face tight against it, and pointed the gun forward, one hand gripping the stock and the other stabilizing with a firm hold on the bottom of the barrel, where the wood casing had been made to accommodate.

"Practice shifting from a full load to this position. You'll need to do it as quickly as possible in combat. And remember: fingers off the trigger. Now pick a gun, wrap the cloth around the steel bit, and get to it."

Basic instruction done, he relaxed his stance and stood back up, turning now to the trainees to watch their attempts.

Marie would have answered Regis, had it not been for their intructor arriving just then. His teaching methods were interesting, but she had no doubt she could do better. In fact, she was confident she would be able to teach even a bunch of peasants how to shoot in a formation in just a matter of hours. It was the maneuverings and drills to instill dicipline that took longer.

"Well, Regis, didn't you hear him? Go on and use the gun."

She didn't bother picking up one, considering it more for the benefit of her untrained companion, and those peasants there rather than anyone like her. What noble did not know how to use a gun? Once more she was convinced that these people were fools. Loading the rifle was in itself already a dangerous move. A piece of cloth over the pan? Why even bother with that and just remove the flint or leave it at half cock? In fact, why bother with any of that at all, and simply allow them to shoot under guidance? And she had certainly heard of paper cartridges for ease of use in the field, but she had never seen one that separated both the powder and the ball in different paper packets. Perhaps it was their way of doing such a thing. Marie was feeling rather smug by now, thinking of Roche's superiority in that field.

"Right. Yes. Use the gun, will do." he went over and glanced at one of the rifles. He grabbed one of the cloth strips as instructed, wrapping it around the... frizzy? He shook his head, grabbing the weapon and holding it awkwardly, clearly highly unaccustomed to handling it and perhaps a little afraid of it.

He gave a glance back to Rose-Marie, “Well, this sure is a gun.” he wryly commented. He stared at it for a moment, reciting the steps in his head. Powder, ball, rod… couldn’t be too hard, could it? Or was it ball, powder, rod? No, no, the powder must've gone in first. He nodded to himself, doing his best to replicate Lemare’s loading.

Meanwhile, Gabe just stared on. The instructions were simple and the demonstration was clear and concise. He knew what to do. He understood. But still, Gabe edged around others, keeping his distance. Rifles were loud. Why rifles? Why not bows? He had seen soldiers using bows before. He glanced at Lemare, wondering if it was a clever thing to ask him. Probably not. So he complied, grabbing a rifle and fiddling with it. Loading the weapon wasn't too hard, and he managed after a few moments.

Incompetent buffoons, came her thought as Rose-Marie sighed. She had no problem letting the peasants founder, but her servant being incompetent reflected badly upon her. Perhaps another demonstration would allow them to finally figure it out.

"Regis. Watch." She picked up a rifle of her own, making sure it was unloaded. Signalling to the others to come close, Marie continued, "You, peasants, come here. I'll only be so gracious so as to demonstrate this once."

First she uncovered the pan at the bottom of the rifle after making sure the hammer was half cocked. Anyone even half knowledgable about guns would notice putting the hammer in that position would make the gun unable to fire. It was where the phrase 'going off half cocked' came from after all.

"Put some powder in the pan, inside here. Not too much, just enough to ignite the charge."

Closing the frizzen over the pan, she poured a measure of powder inside the muzzle, and put a ball in. WIth one smooth movement, she took out the ramming rod from the rifle and rammed it down the muzzle.

"Now, Regis. Are you still listening? Pour some powder into the muzzle, then ram the ball in. Make sure the ball is flush against the powder charge in the bottom, or your rifle will explode instead of sending a ball downrange."

With the rifle fully armed, she aimed down the barrel downrange, though she kept her fingers off the trigger. Once more came the overwhelming feeling she could be doing something much more productive with her time, as Marie sighed again.

Regies watch attentively. There was this little game he liked to play where he tried to guess what Rose-Marie was thinking when she gave one of her lectures. Right now, probably something along the lines of… incompetent cretins? Regies is staggeringly incompetent and it’s embarrassing?

Of course, he wasn’t bitter. He found his incompetence quite endearing.

He nodded along as Rose-Marie spoke, giving the occasional chime of, ”Yes, m’lady.” and a, ”Still listening, m’lady.” and finally a, ”I would certainly hope that the rifle doesn’t explode, m’lady.” all delivered entirely straight laced.

He repeated the steps to himself again. Powder in the pan, but not too much. Powder in the muzzle, ram the ball in. Make sure it’s flush or you’re going to have a really bad day. To his credit, he was a lot better at remembering with Rose-Marie barking at him. ”Thank you for the demonstration, m’lady.” he said with a wry smile, doing his best to replicate the process with his own rifle. He was a little slow, but he got the steps right – certainly he could speed up with a little more practice.

Arden, meanwhile, picked up a similar rifle carefully and following the instructions, trying to remember his teenage lessons from days he had long left behind. He tested the noticeable weight of it in his hands and remembered faintly the feeling of a heavy kick and the ringing in his ears afterwards. He had never really liked the new weapons, but he couldn't deny their efficacy. Targets often dropped instantly, a hole pierced clean through their bodies. It took him several attempts to remember the rusty skills of loading and moving into position, but it came back quicker than expected, his mind beginning now to dredge up relevant information.

Are you worried? he asked through their bond, the convenience of its use a blessing in these moments.

Gabe didn't reply at first, far too occupied with their new weapons. But after a few moments, a response came through.

Yes.

It's very loud--the gun.

I know.

They called it the new era of warfare. These things. They kill very quickly.

But loudly. A flash of annoyance passed through their bond. Everything will run away after one shot.

They were made to kill people better, even if the nobles use them more for sport and game. On the battlefield, it doesn't matter how far you run. The distances it can hit are...tremendous.

I'm not using it.

You'll die out there if you don't master this. A murky feeling filtered through their bond, but Arden quieted it before Gabe could identify. Still, the contents of the message was enough indication of what it was.

Gabe looked up at Arden then, head slightly tilted.

They aren't sending us to war, are they? Aren't we...important?

They're training us for war, Gabe. And I would do anything to keep you alive.

Gabe just looked stunned for a few moments, before shaking his head and turning back to the rifle.

[PapiTan]

Vitus & Liv

---

𝓝𝓸𝓿𝓮𝓶𝓫𝓮𝓻 𝟕𝓽𝓱, 𝟏𝟑𝟐𝟕 / / 𝓐𝓾𝓼𝓯𝓮𝓵𝓭 / / 𝓒𝓪𝓻𝓻𝓲𝓭𝓪𝓷'𝓼 𝓔𝓼𝓽𝓪𝓽𝓮 / / 𝓔𝓿𝓮𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰

---

"Well, they certainly seemed the lively sort!" Vitus said, standing in front of the vanity mirror in their room. Dinner had progressed about as well as could be expected; he was sated but had not been overindulgent, and had savored every bite with the appreciation that such a meal deserved. Even if he had eaten a similar meal naught but a week ago - but it couldn't be helped; variety with the influence of strangers was impossible to plan around, of course.

He'd wasted no time in escorting Liv back to their room, half because he didn't want to be around some of that rabble, and half because he didn't want Liv besmirching his name in front of the more respectable patrons. Truth be told, however, the entire display had left him a little apprehensive. Most of the people at the dinner didn't seem to be aware of the standing such an honor would place them in, and a few otehrs simply didn't seem like they were in the right gathering. Sure, Liv herself was nothing more than a theiving ragamuffin, but she had him to thank for pulling her towards greatness. Some of the others; well...they wouldn't know greatness if it dusted their collars for them.

"Wouldn' wanna be stuck 'round 'em long," Liv muttered, eyes darting briefly to the mirror as she pulled at the sleeve of the fabric contraption that she'd been confined to through the dinner. The movement was habitual, an action to try and loosen the cloth to no success. Finding no real satisfaction in her observation, the thief returned her attention to expertly dismantling the sleeve of her gown, the task made significantly easier upon receiving her undivided focus. Stitches came apart with soft ripping sounds, fibers splitting with the girl's administrations.

She should have done that ages ago.

"Dunno 'bout that fancy noble stuff, but some'f them seem real..uh..." Liv paused. What was the word? Her expression faltered, her actions pausing at the same time. "...'s the word?"

"Unfit? Ill-mannered? Eccentric?" Vitus offered, not removing his gaze from his own reflection as he undid the buttons on the front of his outift, attempting to get out of his clothing with far more care than his cohort was. Her situation was one that caused him no end of annoyance, and he rolled his eyes at the sound of popping seams.

"Must you destroy it? Did finery issue a slight against you at one point without my knowlege?" Vitus said dismissively. He made no move to assist her in her egress from the cruel machinations of the dress; after all, it wasn't his property that was being marred this time.

"Ec...Exsentric?" The word didn't roll off the tongue easily, and the lack of any other indications to its meaning made wild guessing a non-starter. Liv instead took satisfaction in the feeling of half of the sleeve coming off her dress. "'sat mean wordy?"

Her fingers went to work at trying to dispatch the remainder of the fine stitches, working with more speed after the mild amount of practice that she had managed to eke from the first step of her "work".

"I don' like it. I told ya already," Liv muttered, a low growl creeping into her voice despite her best efforts. It betrayed little irritation, but would have done its job on most. "Shitty thing jus' gets in th' way."

"Unconven-" Vitus started, giving an irritated sigh as he realized that explanation would do no good either. He finished undoing his buttons and slid his overshirt off, laying it on top of the vanity and folding it neatly. "Strange. It means strange."

He turned to watch with mild amusement as Liv struggled against the fabric. If he had known it would be this simple to trap (or at least hinder) the little devil, he might have considered it as an obstacle long ago. But how would it work? Hmm...

Things to think about for later.

"Do you need assistance, or would you rather satisfy yourself with tearing through it like a feral animal?"

"I don' need help." As if to punctuate the slight surge of irritation, the rest of the sleeve came off with a resounding tearing noise, the stitches torn this time through force instead of Liv's usual finesse. With her arm less confined, the thief visibly relaxed, but didn't bother to keep herself from moving on to the next sleeve.

It was weird, wasn't it? Weird. She didn't feel in place at the table at all during their meal. Everyone else had seemed at least somewhat at ease with their bond or whatever the hell was happening. Not understanding was one thing, not fitting in was another, but seeming to be the only one that failed to do both was infuriating.

The girl pulled more fervently at the sleeve.

"I don' see why I got some stupid in...inv..." She fumbled over the word again, gave up with a soft huff of frustration, and proceeded to unceremoniously tear half her other sleeve out of place. The fabric hung limply, attached by only a handful of stitches that stubbornly clung to their place. "Just don' see why 'm here 'n not yer snooty servants."

Vitus rolled his eyes again, although it wasn't at the sound of more ripping stitches this time, but something else. "Mere men cannot speak for the whims of gods, and gods cannot predict the influence of men." he said, reciting a verse he'd read once before and chuckling as though he'd just told a joke.

"If I could have chosen one of my staff over a skunk-haired brat, a brat that I might add has done nothing but steal my cutlery and my mints, I would have. As it stands, we've been hand-picked for greatness, whether we care for it or otherwise. We're stuck together, you and I; irregardless of what such a pairing entails."

For such a from-the-heart statement, it was quickly overshadowed by Vitus's demeanor as he continued. "But I certainly should have asked about bringing some of my personal staff, yes. Especially knowing that you weren't going to ferry any luggage."

None of that made any sense.

"Don' think I get it," Liv muttered while turning the explanation over in her head. Words that she didn't understand aside, it felt more like a long-winded "who knows why" than anything else. Her attention seemed to occupy itself with picking apart the final remaining stitches, though she did little more than gently pluck at loose threads. "Other'n bein' stuck with yer haughty arse. I got that."

The rogue gave a rough smirk, finally sending her gaze back to the noble. She still didn't understand, and to say that she wasn't still frustrated would have been a lie, but that was easy to overlook. "'n I brought some 'f yer stuff. Didn' check me or anythin' when we got here."

"You should be grateful, my dear Liv; there are trollops and vagabonds that would be honored to be by my side." Vitus said proudly, puffing up slightly as he said that. How many ladies would the servants have to turn away while he was out on this adventure, he wondered. A sad pittance, truly.

"And frankly, child, you can keep whatever you brought along. All I need to get by is my coinage - after all, what luxuries can wealth not purchase?" he pulled a small pouch out of his trouser pocket as he spoke, hefting it in his hands and listening to the soft clink of the coins inside. Although...

...he could have sworn it was heavier before he left. Odd.

"I can name a few things," Liv retorted, evidently finally content with how far she had decimated her clothing. "'n I took a few 'f those. Jus' 'n case."

The thief failed to mention that Vitus was right in some regard. Plenty of rats would have killed to be in Liv's position, and plenty more would have done worse than that. There were more than a few skeletons in the closet in that respect. No need to bring it up if he really thought that his staff was competent enough to stop every unsavory guest that had ever come to call.

"Thought ye just had t' ask for somethin' and they'd give it."

"Well, yes..." Vitus said, clearly preoccupied with opening his coin purse and looking inside. Had he not brought as much money as he thought he had? There was no reason to bring the entire Ayolous fortune, of course, but he could have sworn this pouch had more in it before he left.

Hmph. Something to worry about at a later time.

"Well yes, but what if something were to happen? I never put my full faith in the capability of strangers, my dear Liv. After all, incompetency lurks around every corner, and one must be vigilant! And this coin purse will solve all our...my...problems if any missteps like that were to occur!" he said, his pride evident in every word that spewed out of his mouth.

"Hmmm, wonder 'f there's a reason for incompunets 'round ya," Liv claimed, the taunt clear in her words. "Don' think that li'l purse'll have 'nough coin t' solve all yer problems."

Her eyes trailed over the pouch in question, mind trying to work out how many coins were in it to begin with. She could lighten the load by a little bit without any real issue...

"Though I can lif' a few more 'f ya need 'em."

"Even if it doesn't, we should have no issues!" Vitus said. "After all, not only am I Vitus Ayolous, but we're guests of The Church. People will want to help us, of course!"

It was only at that moment that Vitus acknowleged the rest of Liv's statement.

"And I think not. You keep your grubby little hands out of my...wait. Did you say 'more'?"

Liv didn't bother hiding the smirk that played across her face.

"I thought leavin' ya somethin' was nicer'n usual."