Blackfridayrule

Of Blood and Bastards

As soon as he called her name, she drew her knife and her whole posture changed into something much more aggressive. Rohaan knew it when he saw it, she knew what she was doing and wouldn't hesitate to kill him if she thought the situation warranted it. As someone who spent a considerable amount of time in the shape of an animal, he knew a lot about nonverbal cues. He didn't just know how to read them, he knew how to give them. Still, he always thought Berlin was better at this kind of thing. It'd worked on him, after all.

Rohaan kept his hands up and shifted his weight back, his stance somewhat relaxed and informal except for the edge of tension that lurked under everything else. He had a lot riding on this. He had to get her to Last Vigil. And he thought that he might just be able to drag her by force, but he really wanted to avoid that at all costs. He tried to think: what had Berlin done to him to win him over in their early days together? Rohaan had been a nearly feral child, starved and abused and did not speak the language of men, yet Berlin had not only tamed him, but he was something like a father to Rohaan. Honesty, he thought. Aside from his many other talents, Berlin had always been straight with him.

The shifter tossed back his hood, revealing his own eyes. But he kept his distance, kept his hands where she could see them. "My name is Rheoaan Rohaan Rio Ja'aisen--call me Rio--and I'm the most notorious thief and criminal this side of the sea. Maybe you've heard of me, maybe you haven't. I've done a lot of terrible and illegal things, very few of which I regret, but I've never kidnapped a person, and I've never just outright killed someone without reason. I don't intend to break that tradition today, so calm your waters and stop thinking about how best to stab me. Long story short, your father has no heirs besides you and I think he must be on the decline or something because he stuck a hefty deal to get me to come and find you for him and bring you to Last Vigil. I don't care, it's not my business why he's so bent on this all of a sudden, but if I fail, thousands of innocent people will be executed and I'm VERY motivated not to fail." Despite his best efforts, he couldn't help but let an edge slip into his tone at that. "You don't believe me, do you? I know your mother died when you were very young. I know your father called you Astrid but Lord Durgan or whatever his name is, named you Asharavasti. And I happen to personally know that you have the same eyes as your father, too."

Rohaan spoke quickly, realizing that at any moment she might be done with him and try to run or attack him. He had to get the highlights, and in his haste he neglected to tell her that the Emperor conceived her during the war with the Centaurs, and that she was the bastard daughter of the Emperor. Frankly, that didn't seem like highly relevant information at the moment. It would be if she took anything he said seriously, but she had to first believe that he wasn't a highwayman with a little basic knowledge. Besides, if someone told him he was an Emperor's bastard, he'd laugh in their face.

The Tree of Astra (LadyAnnaLee and Blackfridayrule)

"Hmm, milk and butter and chives does seem like an improvement from just plain boiled potatoes. We eat potatoes too down in Azurei but generally it's in something, like curry. But by themselves? You'll have to convince me. Sweet potatoes are alright though, they have a bit more flavor and I've had them with cinnamon and sage. When we head north again, there's a lot you'll have to introduce me to." Ridahne smiled genuinely; she wanted to learn more about her friend's culture and home. She felt like the more she knew, the better she understood Darin, and she hoped that a trip through Azurei would do the same for Darin.

Ridahne took the boots with a smile and a nod, wishing she could take her own boots off too. Maybe she would when she got back to the inn. She never wore boots, usually just sandals back home or if she was going on an expedition to the Dust Sea, some kind of light wrap or stocking to keep the sand and sun from burning her feet. Being in soled boots all the time felt...suffocating sometimes. Ridahne watched Darin go, though she sat for a while longer to finish both her and Darin's cup of coffee before heading back to the inn. She came downstairs to the pub, and meant to go wander the city some more, but a burly elf stopped her.

"Fair winds, Azurei. What brings you to Lihaelen?" his tone was jovial and bright, and he was sitting alone at the bar. A man looking for some company, it seemed.
Ridahne leaned against the counter. "Fair winds. I'm taking my apprentice to Azurei for a while. We're on our way from up north, and taking our time." It was somewhat true. Azurei wasn't the end goal--they didn't have one--but it was a reasonable story nonetheless.
The man's eyebrows raised. "Oh! Apprentice! So you're a blade master then?" He looked subtly more nervous after that, as if he felt he'd offended her by bothering her and regretted it.
"Something like that," Ridahne offered. "More like...retired eija." Not many people outside Azurei knew much about the eija-alihn, so she usually just simplified.
The man looked puzzled. "Retired? You can't be much older than a hundred...you got a long time before you should retire!" He gave a hearty laugh.
Ridahne gave a tight, nervous laugh in reply. "Fate is a fickle mistress."

The man got the sense she didn't want to continue that subject, so he backed off. "Got any news from the road? I'll trade a drink for it. C'mon, have a seat." Ridahne relented, perching next to him as the bartender set a clay mug filled with a rich, dark ale in front of her. The man, she discovered, was a river dock worker and in his younger days had been a sailor. Ridahne knew much of sailors and nautical life, and he was surprised to find an upper-class Azurei that was so knowledgeable on the subject. She explained she was from Atakhara, and he seemed to be familiar with the city. They passed back and forth some pieces of news, but mostly old stories and fables often circulated among sailors, and a few of Azurei superstition.

As the time passed, his friends (all regulars at this tavern) trickled in and joined in the discussion. The energy in the room brightened as more and more people joined the little group, and soon there were outbursts of song and laughter. Ridahne was near the bottom of her second mug of ale when one of the men piped up, saying, "Oi, lads, who do you think would win in arm wrestling? Talven, or miss Ridahne?" He meant it as a joke, but soon there was a loud debate over who would win.
"Talven's got at least sixty pounds on her, maybe more! That's hardly even fair!" some said.
Others cried, "C'mon, just look at her! She's eija! She could probably throw Talven across the bar!"

This went on for a minute or two before Ridahne raised her voice sharply and belted, "ENOUGH!". There was instant silence, and each of them wondered if they'd offended their guest. But she simply polished off her mug, set it down gracefully, and brought her elbow up onto the table with a profound thunk, hand raised up in ready. A challenge. The men cheered and whooped and all but shoved Talven to sit across from her. He did, planting his elbow on the table and locking hands with her. It was quiet as they began, arms quivering with the effort. Every time their hands tilted one direction or another, there would be excited murmurs. Ridahne held him even, her eyes locked on his. She felt him falter, so she gave a tremendous effort and his fist began steadily sinking down towards the table. A riot of shouts and cheers erupted, reaching a peak when she finally whacked his fist against the table surface.

Ridahne shook out her tired arm as the bar went in total uproar, some good-naturedly riffing Talven and others patting her on the back, and everyone laughing. Ridahne bowed: Ruler to subject with a grin on her face. A few of the men chuckled and returned the bow with: Subject to ruler as if she had somehow, jokingly, just become their queen. Talven smiled. "Want another round? I think I owe you one now," he said, jovially abashed.
Ridahne returned the smile. "I'd love to, boys, but it's after sunset, and I have an apprentice to track down. You've all been excellent company. Fair winds, mates."

Ridahne made her exit, feeling buoyant. It had been a while since she'd been in a tavern where people weren't outright afraid to approach her, and when they did, nobody asked any terribly personal questions. A few basic ones about her hometown and some of her travels, but they never once asked her name, opting to simply call her Azurei instead, which was polite. She didn't realize how much, in a society that displayed everything on one's face, she craved anonymity sometimes. Anonymity without isolation. Not to mention, it had been a long time since she'd been to a bar where sailors and dock workers frequented. It was the closest to home she'd felt in a long time.

Ridahne kept an eye out for Darin as she walked barefoot now along the various pathways. She headed for the place where tree climbing was a challenge, figuring that was her best bet for finding her, though she thought also that the human might be wandering back also. She arrived to find two of the workers there talking about a human who had foregone the provided ladders and apparently had not come down yet. Ah, that would be her human then. "Young human lad, sandy hair, no shoes?"
The two nodded. "Been up there for a while. Did you...lose your apprentice?"
Ridahne smirked. "Not lost. Gave him the evening off." Ridahne looked up, whistling once. "Ai! Martin! You up there?"

The Tree of Astra (LadyAnnaLee and Blackfridayrule)

Cool cool no rush :)

The Tree of Astra (LadyAnnaLee and Blackfridayrule)

Oh man retail, I bet you’re having a crazy time. I know our grocery stores have been kind of a zoo recently. It’s starting to calm down but man, I can’t imagine. Good to hear you’re alright though.

I’ll probably get a post up today (not like I’m going anywhere) lol.

The Tree of Astra (LadyAnnaLee and Blackfridayrule)

Thanks for asking!

My hands have been good actually. Still some physical therapy to do after the surgeries I had, but I’m back working my actual real job instead of the modified duty I’ve been doing for 7 months. It’s feels incredible to be back doing what I love.

I also had a moment this week where I thought my roommate had the virus, so I stayed home from work, but we figured out very quickly she didn’t and so it was a false alarm, thank goodness. It’s been a super weird week lol but we’re doing ok and bracing for a lockdown like California just did. We’re in Colorado but my family is in Washington state where it’s pretty bad, but they’re doing alright too.

How’s things on your end?

Of Blood and Bastards

Rohaan sighed exasperatedly. She wasn't listening to him and didn't seem inclined to stop her tunneling into the fortress, which, he knew, would lead to her death. Or worse. He didn't know and could hardly hope that this was who he was looking for, but he still didn't want to see someone just walk into their death. He was a practical man and would snuff out the life of a soldier or anyone else who threatened him in the blink of an eye, but that didn't mean he wished harm on everyone. He could feel a spike of anxiety flashing through his gut, for every minute he stood here was another minute his mark either disappeared further or was closer to death. He'd staked a lot on this whole stupid deal, which he was regretting now. He tried to remind himself that bringing her body still counted as a success according to the terms, so that eased some of his fears. Some.

She blew him off curtly, and he was about to shout in exasperation when she turned and faced him full on. Those eyes were just like Valdemar's, and he realized with a mixture of relief and a new, different panic that he actually had found his mark. The further in there she got, the deeper shit he'd get himself in just to try and extract her. He couldn't let her go. He though briefly about just tackling her, turning into a bear or a jaguar or something heavy and just pinning her down, but he definitely made note of the hand that stayed behind her back. Rohaan was an experienced man, and he knew that meant she was armed. Even if he could get her to listen to him, she'd easily get one good stab in before he'd managed it, and he really didn't want to get stabbed. No, force was a bad plan. He had to say something to catch her attention, and fast.

"Asharavasti!" He cried, a little more confidence seeping into his tone. He gave that a second to sink in. "Yes, I know who you are. And you are the person I'm looking for. You don't know me, but I've been sent to find you." He held up his hands. "Before you pull out that knife or whatever it is you've got on me, I'm not here to hurt you. Very much the opposite. I can't explain it all right now, but we have a lot to talk about, but if you go in there, I'll be forced to stop you. You have no idea how many lives hinge on my mission, on you."

Rohaan came a little closer, though he still kept his distance and his hood up. If she got a glimpse of his eyes, she'd probably refuse to do anything but run or stab him. So, feeling desperate and more than a little stupid, he sighed and offered, "Look, I get why you want to go in there. You want to help your people." He didn't really know, but it was a decent enough guess, and he was grasping at straws. "If anyone in the world gets that, it's me. And I..." Another deep sigh. What had he gotten himself into? "I can help you, I'm a man of many talents, but you have to promise me, to swear to me by the moon and the stars that when I tell you how I can help you, you won't run, and that after I help you, you'll talk to me and really hear me out. We need to talk, that's all I want. Deal?" He wasn't about to tell her that if she refused the deal, he'd drag her back to Last Vigil if it was the last thing he did. He needed her to not see him as a threat.

Of Blood and Bastards

It was early evening by the time Rohaan really began his search in earnest, though he did sort of stand there for a while, scratching his head and wondering what he should really do. He'd tracked people before, but he'd always had either a specific location to find them, or a piece of clothing or something to track a scent. He had a vague description and eye color...and that was it. He wished he could have asked for something to scent-track with, but the Emperor likely wouldn't have anything recent enough. He supposed a quick flight over the fortress would have to do for a first-step.

Rohaan changed to an eagle and took to the air, gaining some altitude before he made for the fortress. The closer he got, the more he could sense something...odd. At first it was like a vague phantom-waft of a hot metal smell, and then he imagined he could almost taste metal. That was imagined, there was no metal in the air, but he recognized the sensation immediately as magic. Strong magic. Berlin was a magical man, and whenever the man used his ability on Rohaan, he always imagined a metallic tang in his mouth. It was faint, but there. Berlin and the other magic-using crew members never sensed it, but then again, they were human and not inherently a magical creature like he was. The air felt different to him, too, something like barometric pressure but...wrong. Whatever was causing that signature, it was strong, and Rohaan wasn't sure he liked it.

The city was mostly dead. That wasn't what he'd expected at all, and he thought to himself, most impenetrable fortress! Hmph! There were no guards out on patrol to mark him, even if a circling eagle was anything to note at all. For a moment he thought maybe they were hiding, but there'd be small fires for off duty soldiers, or any fires at all. The chimneys were all just as dead as the--

Movement caught his eye, and he swooped down, landing high on a watchtower to peer down at a cluster of people in the square below. They weren't milling about, some were standing huddled together, others were gathered loosely around something, but in a rather ordered fashion, he thought. The ground seemed darker than the gray cobblestones surrounding the group too...it seemed almost...red. A figure in odd clothing picked someone from the huddled mass and somewhat forcibly guided them to the focal point of what the people were gathered around. There was evidently some to-do or speech or something that went on, and then the oddly clothed man did something to the cowering person, and they dropped. Rohaan caught the glint of something wet catching the sun.

Moon and stars! he gasped inwardly as he realized to some degree what was happening. He was unfortunately somewhat experienced with mass executions, and there seemed to be a ritual going on here. No wonder there was a magical tang in the air. His mind raced. Was she down there? He had no way to really know without getting down there himself, and if he did that, he'd get involved. There'd be blood and fire, and he couldn't guarantee that any of the captives wouldn't get caught in the literal crossfire. Damn! Damn!

He thought back to the Emperor's description of the girl. He did mention that she often slipped out of the fortress to go adventuring. Maybe she got wise and skipped town. He had to try that first, had to see if anyone at all was wandering around outside of the walls. He flew overhead, circling a perimeter around the fortress and scanning for any movement. After what felt like an age, he saw...something. He couldn't be sure of what he saw, so he landed near where he'd thought he'd seen movement and shifted to a bloodhound. He might not be able to identify her scent in particular, but he could identify human versus animal easily enough, he was familiar with those. He paced, nose to the ground and occasionally up to the air, methodically scanning the landscape for a scent trail. He found one quickly enough, and it was human. Rohaan followed it as quickly as he could manage, hoping against hope that he'd found his mark.

The person he followed turned out to be a young woman, and she looked just a bit more rugged than your average lady, which made his heart leap in hope. She seemed like the sort. She was going into a tunnel, which he automatically noted and saved that information for later, just in case. Why, by the moon, would she want to go in there? Did she know what was happening?

Rohaan shifted to his natural shape, pulled up his hood to shade his eyes a bit and took a few steps forward. "Wait!" The sounds of underground shuffling stopped. He called again. "Wait, don't go in there! You don't know me, but you have to trust me. Do not go in there. If they find you..." Even if this wasn't her, he wasn't a cruel man and didn't want to see those people gain another victim. He'd at least make sure this girl got far away from here and continue his search. He kept a little distance from the tunnel entrance; if she came back and ran smack into some grubby, strange, rogue of a man, she'd probably turn and run the other way. Even worse if she saw his eyes. "Look, I'm trying to find someone. Make sure they're alright. Maybe you can help me. Just...don't go in there. There's all this magic in the air, and these people...it's gotta be some kind of cult, or something, but you want no part of it." He was speaking fast, obviously a bit rattled.

The Tree of Astra (LadyAnnaLee and Blackfridayrule)

Ridahne couldn't help but laugh as Darin took her first sip of the coffee. She did try to hold it in, but it came out anyway, resulting in a snort and a sheepish grin. "Sorry, but your face was priceless! I forget that other peoples have different tastes than we do in Azurei and Orosi. A lot of our food is similar to each other, partly because Orosi supplies us with a large portion of our goods. But we like things strong down south. Spicy, bitter, sharp, salty..." she laughed a little. "I have to admit, boiled potatoes?" Ridahne shuddered. "Not my favorite meal. I grew up very poor and some of those instincts never left me, so I'll eat whatever's put in front of me. But you won't catch me boiling potatoes at home, not unless they go in a soup or something else."

She leaned forward a little, sipping her own cup of coffee and squinting at Darin as if to study her, a playful gleam in her amber eyes. "I wonder what you'd enjoy more than coffee...They do serve chocolate drinks here. Imagine...chocolate which is sweet and a little bitter but only if you have it straight and not at all as much as coffee, mixed in with hot milk of some variety and sometimes spices like cinnamon. It's creamy and sweet and it's got the faintest kick of spice. But to be honest with you, I'm not sure I know enough about what humans usually eat and what flavors they like to know what you'd like. I've had plenty of tavern food, which is usually bread and cheese and some fruits here and there, and some roasted meats. But I've never been invited into the home of a human and sat down for supper. Never been invited into the home of a human at all, really. They're usually kind of afraid of me." Ridahne laughed. "Is it the tattoos?" she joked, knowing full well it was some combination of her tattoos, her three blades, her height (she towered over most grown men), her abrasive personality, and the sharpness of her eyes. People seemed to be miffed by how much skin she was willing to show, too, as they tended to wear longer layers in the north, and her traditional half-shirt was a little scandalous by small-town standards. "I am going to hold you to that promise of apple pie one of these days though...it sounds delicious."

Ridahne could see that Darin was not having as good a time as she was. It wasn't that Darin wasn't enjoying herself completely, but the elf could see that the crowded walkways, the tight spaces, and the unfamiliarity of it all was wearing on her stamina. Ridahne didn't know how she'd handle Azurei, but the elf desperately wanted her friend to like it. And it was...a lot to take in for the first time. Eluri at least had a vaguely similar climate to Darin's hometown. Azurei, in comparison, was another world.

Ridahne smiled gently. "Don't damage the trees, and they would't think much of it. They spend a lot of time scaling them, but the trees are their home, and they cherish their health deeply. If they catch you breaking branches, you'll find trouble. I've never scaled the trees myself, but I hear the view of Astra is spectacular if you can make it up. There might even be a ladder or stairway and a platform somewhere, but I'm not actually sure. If you wanted to check it out, you could go, and I'll see our supplies get back to the inn, and sample the local beer while I'm at it. I can meet you back there. But if you aren't back before nightfall, I'll come looking for you." Ridahne didn't want to be her mother or anything, but considering their situation, a little caution was wise.

Of Blood and Bastards

Valdemar described this place as the greatest fortress in the world, and while Rohaan's interest was peaked, he was also a little unimpressed. He was not an army, come to batter at its walls with engines and fire. Nor was he a wily but stupid common thief, who thought he could crawl in and not be noticed, or bribe someone to get inside. No, he was Rohaan Ja'aisen. He was the master of thieves, and the shapes of all beasts were his to wear. If there was a courtyard, no one would begrudge a sparrow for flitting among the grass. If there was a sewer, no one would think twice about a rat scurrying inside. Getting inside was not a problem. Getting out was the tricky part.

"Yes, yes, greatest fortress and all, right." He flicked a dismissive hand. "You need a man of infiltration, Valdemar, which is why you chose me. I get that. And you need someone that, when everything goes sideways, has...teeth." He let the double meaning of that turn-of-phrase sit for a moment. "I wonder if you find irony in so desperately needing the help of a silverblood. You know, the people you see as a nuisance and less than a person. I've always wondered if your humans' hatred of us came from jealousy, or even fear that we might actually be better than you, stronger. What a pity it must be to have to live your whole life in one single shape..." This was not taunting, this was an honest sentiment that he held. He couldn't imagine being stuck to one form for a lifetime. No wonder humans were bitter, they could not fly...

"You mentioned at some point you didn't care much for the details of this expedition. I really hope you meant that, or your choosing me is worthless. I can't guarantee my methods, and I can't guarantee that if enough things try to kill me, I won't burn Durgan to the ground. I used to sink ships as a boy, I'm sure a fortress wouldn't trouble me now. "Hope there's nothing else of interest there for you. As for our deal, don't burn me and I won't burn you. Literally or otherwise."

Rohaan pocketed the flask in one of the pouches across the leather bandolier he wore, though he'd been planning to do so anyway. He wouldn't have considered it a theft, either. Too easy, and it really was more of a gift anyway. Besides, it seemed like he'd be needing himself a stiff drink these days to get through this madness. The ring though...he wasn't sure how he felt about it. On the one hand, it might give him some leverage out there, knowing that he was associated with the Emperor. He almost retched at the thought. He'd much rather rid the world of an evil and torch them all to ash right now but...no. His time with Berlin had taught him enough to know when to pass up one opportunity for a better one. This was one of those times. Rohaan also wondered if anyone would really honor the significance of the ring. It might be noteworthy and not some common token, but he was not some common man. Rohaan took the band of silver from him and stashed it away, too. He did not wear it, and did not want it visible.

He stood, grinning devilishly at the captain. Rohaan sauntered over to him, leaning in close and patting him on the cheek like a man might pat a good plow horse. "Did you hear that, Ca-mm? We're going to be good friends. I'd ask you for a little pocket change to cover some necessary expenses but..." Rohaan shrugged, holding aloft a leather purse filled with heavy coins. It belonged to the captain...or it used to, and at some undetermined point, the shifter had swiped it.

"If I can, I might send a sign that I've made contact. Don't need to worry about it being intercepted--it won't be in letters. You'll know it when you see it." And then in the blink of an eye, his man shape became something larger and darker. A dragon now stood in the grass beside the banquet table. It was not the large, armored breed often found in high mountain peaks and rumored to have stashes of hoarded gold, but it was a cyradan. Significantly smaller, leaner, and though the scales were thick and tough, they were not as impervious as other varieties. They were smooth and close fitted like snake skin, though they were a matte black that seemed to drink in light and consume it rather than reflect it. The spine had only small, curved black spines, and the face was mostly angular and smooth with only small spikes framing the jawline. The wings were not entirely leathery and sinuous, but were almost velvety like a horse's nose. His teeth and talons were all a deep, dark grayish black reminiscent of less shiny hematite, and there were small lines running along his body and face that pulsed a bioluminescent red that in the light of the sun was easily missed or mistaken for a faint reflection. Yet, as always, his eyes were slit orbs of lapis lazuli. By its build, this particular variety of dragon was built for speed and agility, not to mention nighttime stealth.

Rohaan gave one last parting roar, a two-toned sound that seemed like two different voices speaking as one. One deep and resonating like the grumblings of an elephant. The other was as sharp as broken glass. And with a good launch and a few pumps of his powerful wings, the shifter was gone at last. For a long time, there was no other news of him, except that a group of five men, all conspirators in the Emperor's trap, were seen by doctors the next morning to treat their sudden and bloody lack of tongues, and also venomous snake bites.

Rohaan did not linger after that. He flew high and by night, trusting to stealth to keep him out of trouble with high success. The rate at which he reached Durgan would make any caravan balk in disbelief, but then he was not limited to the use of winding roads, and he was not burdened with carts. Rohaan allowed himself some much needed rest that he'd earned after many days of hard flight, and then with determination, he began his quest in earnest. First, he needed information.

Of Blood and Bastards

Rohaan snorted, though whether with derision or laughter wasn't entirely clear. "Ain't never met a man like me either, I'm sure. Then again, I'm not exactly a man, am I?" He waved a dismissive hand. "I'm not impressed by your titles or your status, Valdemar. Or intimidated by them. I can assume the same could be said of me. We might live in different worlds, but we're at least both practical men. Usually I'd say that reputation speaks louder than everything else, but not here, not between us. Actions do. And I can assure you, there are plenty of men like you out there. Maybe none so rich, but they're out there." People like Karl were all the same to Rohaan, no matter their specific status or titles. He knew the sort.

Rohaan, still chuckling, swished the liquid in the flask around a bit before taking another sip. Even if there was an actual attempt on his life, Rohaan was fairly casual about that sort of thing for a cutthroat and found it more laughable than offensive. For one, he sort of always expected it, but by that same token, if he got in a tizzy every time someone tried to see him dead, he'd be a very stressed out man. "I can assure you, Valdemar, I've sampled your personal stash quite extensively." He grinned. "But having a refresher for the memory might--maybe--ease the pain of my transport here. You might have just asked, you know..." That wasn't feasible, not with a man like this, Rohaan knew. "Maybe even sent a letter. Would have taken me a week just to figure out what it said, but I'd have gotten there eventually. Someone taught me to read once, but I was never good at it. Vokurians don't have a written language, so the concept is a little foreign." He shrugged nonchalantly.

As Rohaan shifted, Valdemar's hand started twitching and convulsing in an ugly way. He tried to hide it, and all his soldiers awkwardly tried to pretend they all hadn't just seen it for the dignity of their master. But Rohaan saw. He wasn't exactly sure what kind of reaction he'd get out of the man for his threat, but taking it quite seriously and threatening to kill him in return wasn't on the list of possibilities. He was not disappointed, though. The blonde laughed, practically cackling with glee as he whooped, "Woo hooohhoooh! Oh, now this is getting good! Struck a nerve, have I?" He was laughing, but his gaze was fierce, almost wicked. "Good to know, good to know!" It was unsettling for the soldiers to hear the voice of their Emperor speak so loudly and roughly, without any sense of decorum. He inspected the gloved hand with a cocked head. "Something magical, I'm guessing. Doesn't seem to like me shifting, does it? Best hope I don't decide to do that often."

Rohaan returned to his natural shape though. "Put your steel away, Ca-mm. I know you'd give your left hand to run me through, but not today. I just had a very sizable meal, and fighting you all would upset my stomach. Though if it came to that, I'd burn you first, Ca-mm. That polished steel armor you've got there is well made, and might even protect you from most of what I could throw at you. But all that steel can't save you from fire. Instead it's like your own little personal body-shaped oven..."

Rohaan turned back to Valdemar, his eyes gleaming dangerously. "But it seems fortune is shining on me today. Tell you what. Skip the contract, I've got my own leverage now. If you betray me in any way, go back on our deal, twist the terms, or otherwise get in my way, and I'll blow your secret wide open. From how you just reacted, I'd imagine it'd be pretty embarrassing and damaging to your career. And not just yours. Hers." Rohaan's task was to transport her, not to groom her political career. If he got burned in this deal, he'd set her future, and his, ablaze without a flash of guilt.

"Speaking of, who is she anyway? I need to know her name, anything you know about her and where she lives, and what she might look like. Tell me my mark, and I'll be on my way. I've got...business to do."