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The Youngest Elder

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In O R I F L A M M E → 3 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay

Hildr the Red

It took her quite a bit of courage to even have the gall to talk back to him. With a rather shaky voice the knight responded.

"I only believe because of the man who gifted me with a life worth living..."

She tried to swallow some lingering saliva as her throat felt dry after the king confronted her about her blood brothers. It was then that a reassuring memory of her first blood brother, the death hand from their time slaying the beast. Hildr let out a soft smile.

"Do not worry your highness. If I meet them as enemies... I shall sent them to their grave honourably... More than I would give the Parrencemen."

Otto paused for a moment, seeming to consider. If anything, his scowl only deepened. "Clear a space," he commanded, drawing a mighty longsword. "Bard, let us see how well your music might follow the cut and thrust of battle." The king squared himself up. "It is clear to me that you cannot be trusted," he told Hildr. "However, I am nothing if not a fair man. You heeded my summons in good faith and so I shall give you a way to leave here in spite that you are my enemy."

He cleared his throat. "Sir Danneman, step forward." At that, a small, nimble-looking man emerged from the pack of guards. His armour was lighter than most, only covering vital spots. He held a number of daggers strapped to his person and a bastard sword in his left hand. He began circling wordlessly, eyes fixed on Hildr and yet darting about his surroundings, taking them in. "This is Sir Rodric Danneman, a... knight in my service. I would fight you myself but, sadly, I now have higher responsibilities as a king."

The guards had cleared a large space in the center of the great hall. "This shall be a duel," declared the king. "Combatants shall fight to first blood and no further. Fatal blows are to be discouraged but, in the heat of the moment, we shall acknowledge that accidents happen." Otto glanced at his chosen champion. "Should your hand slip and this pagan goes to meet Eschiran and know the error of her ways, you will not be counted a murderer."

"At stake is your freedom as an enemy of this kingdom." He turned to Hildr. "Win and you shall be given provisions and four days to cross the border into your native Kressia. Lose, and you shall be imprisoned as an enemy national." The king stepped back, surrounded by a dozen royal guards, and raised an arm. They began shouting words of encouragement to Sir Rodric: "Eschiran empower you!", "Slay that heathen!", "We shall feast after this, Rod, I know it!"

After a moment of tense silence, Otto dropped his raised arm. "Commence!" he shouted.
All at once, there was a large intake of energy. Sir Rodric disappeared and, surrounding Hildr were five of him. Each began stamping his lead foot, and the sound seemed to come equally from all directions.

Hildr could feel the stamping of that lead foot resonate through her entire body, the thrill of the coming battle overtaking her. It was invigorating, although the way the opponent was fighting got the hire blade rather annoyed.

"Rodric was it?... May I have the privilege to ask what kind of parlour trick this is? I thought this was meant to be a battle, not a dance." To think someone would dare use illusions in a duel. It made her all the more mad thinking about it. "To think Otto sets the bar for being a knight so low, I almost pity the other knights for being grouped with you." A sly smirk covered her face as she showed herself in a false sense of being open.

There was not a word from Rodric. Instead, one of the five of him plunged right for the opening, while another, moving perhaps slightly faster than the others, circled around to the precise opposite side, trying to hide his half-step forward and tensing up to strike.

There it was, that rush of adrenaline, the man didn't even try to hit her in a non-lethal spot. Hildr picked up a divergence in the sound, it wasn't only the one in front that stopped circling her.... There was also one that deviated from the other side. seeing there wasn't any more time to respond, the knight moved her body slightly to swing the arming sword while aiming for the temple, hoping she calculated his steps well enough.

There was nothing that motivated Sir Rodric quite like a good insult. Nothing more enjoyable to take down than a haughty knight who judged him based on his fighting style. That this pagan would think him so predictable!

Hildr's sword flashed through the shadow clone that he'd set up to give the the appearance of being his true self, sneaking in from behind. Meanwhile, the assassin came at her from the front, his true self the obvious 'decoy'. His sword plunged into the gap beneath her armpit and struck true, drawing a small trickle of blood from beneath her armpit.

Yet, then, something crashed into his head with stunning force, and he staggered backwards, blinking furiously.

The stinging pain of being struck hit the knight as she realised she had guessed wrong, angering her to no end.

Using force magic to draw the blade back with unexpected speeds for such a blade. Hitting the knight of trickery in the head with enough force to draw blood, her pummel barely stained from the quickness of it.

The woman goes in to strike the disoriented knight once more before realizing she had already drawn blood.

Rodric staggered back but quickly caught himself, automatically warping the light to disappear from sight, and not a moment too soon. She had one in for a second strike, the filthy pagan, intent on unnecessary bloodshed as they all were. She was quick as she was wicked and uncocuth, this Hildr: the work Force magic, Rodric knew, an 'honourable' type of magic to the haughty types, while his wasn't. He was used to the double standards by now, of course.

He reappeared some distance away and bowed. Imperfection on his part, but he had learned much. "It appears she drew blood at nearly the same time as I," Rodric admitted. "I apologize for my failure, my king." If he'd faced her the way that he preferred, of course, without the formality of a duel in King Otto's great hall, she wouldn't have even seen him coming. The pagan bitch would be lying in a pool of her own blood, mewling for her heathen Gods to take her soul to their green groom or whatever it was. As it was, he had embarrassed himself utterly by not making sport of her. Such strength and reflexes, he acknowledged to himself, and the former for a woman!

Sir Rodric Danneman knelt before his king and bowed his head low. "I shall compensate for my failure by going in person to Relouse, should your majesty allow it, and leading our mission there."

King Otto stepped forward, now that the duel had reached its unsatisfactory conclusion. "It appears that Dami has spared you for the time being, but as halfheartedly as possible." He addressed Hildr now. "For what purpose, I cannot say, but I bow to the wisdom of the Pentad." He cleared his throat and twisted. "As for you, Sir Rodric, you shall accompany our contingent to Relouse. You shall fight in that conflict and you shall return here and advise me as to the strengths of the two armies involved. We shall speak at length this evening.

He regarded Hildr once more. "As for you, woman, Sir Rodric struck simultaneously and, had he not been aiming for a wounding strike, doubtless could've sent you to your death. Thus, coupled with your behaviour and refusal to disavow false gods, the initial generosity of my offer has been rescinded. You are to leave, immediately, with but the articles in your possession. On my honour as king, you will be given two days to remove yourself from my kingdom, unharried. Should you return, however, I expect it shall be among the Eskandr, where you shall be shown no quarter nor mercy." His guards formed up around him. They parted only to let her pass out the door.

"She will have none from me," said Sir Rodric quietly. Then, more loudly. "I look forward to seeing you upon the beaches of Relouse, my lady, though I doubt you will so much as see me before meeting your gods."

As the battle had come to a close and the tension left the room, Hildr’s normal attitude returned. Coming off much weaker as before.

“Then I thank you for your accommodation… And hope to the Father to not meet you in battle, your highness….”

Being escorted out of the hall seemed rather unnecessary to her as the knight already planned to leave. Kressia… She hadn’t been there in a while and it might be worth some coin to be hired there once more. Lindermetz, however, was a lost cause. They’d been wary but open last time. Now, a kind of dogmatic inflexibility had taken over and they were kicking her out as if she were a criminal after having invited her as a guest.

She brushed out of the doorway and there stood an array of commonfolk being ushered away for the day. One woman, however, remained, hands posted on hips. “I heard what happened in there, Lady Knight.” She was middle-aged and a bit overweight, with a leathery face and hard, flinty eyes. “It ain't right what they done to you.” She shook her head. “But they been doin’ it more an’ more lately.” She glanced sourly at the door and, rather presumptuously, reached out and took Hildr by the arm. “Now, they given you two days because they know it in’t enough time to get outta this place, but that’s if you’re you.” She grinned, displaying a crooked, yellowed, but generally well-cared-for set of teeth. “We fix you up with a traveling cloak or a nice dress - on your coin, of course - hide the weapons in a bag… nobody’ll be the wiser. I know a caravan leaving for Salterburgh* ‘round about dinnertime. We hurry, we can getcha on it and somewhere safer.” She paused, forcing Hildr to do the same. “Name’s Frida, by the way. Already got yours. Now what say you?”

"Why would you help a heathen?... Shouldn't you hate me for following the old ways?" Even though she herself wasn't even that religious, she did get the downsides of it. "But if you truly offer it from the bottom of your heart… I can't refuse… I'll pay for it all.. and I'll be in your debt.." Hildr let out a soft smile towards the woman.

Frida quirked an eyebrow. “All muscle and not much brains to you, huh?” She shook her head and lowered her voice. “Not all of us are on about Ipty, Damy, Shoon, and whatever the other two are, you know.” She sniffed and shook her head tightly. “We should be looking out for each other jus’ like the Quentists do. Anyways, fair’s just fair, you know, and you didn’t get ‘fair’ treatment at all. Bugs me.” She pressed her lips into a line, businesslike, and nodded. “Now let’s get you dolled up and on your way. You’re a pretty young thing beneath all that armour. Shouldn’t be hard.”

Hildr would blush slightly as the other complimented her appearance. "You're not a Quentist?... I never would have guessed... Alright, let's go with your plan. I Will promise to pay you well for your efforts." It seems that the woman was true to her word and after a small redressing in more feminine attire, Hildr set off to Kressia in a newly made dress. It had made her feel rather awkward.

In O R I F L A M M E → 3 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
In O R I F L A M M E → 3 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
After way too long a wait, here's a mediocre sheet

In O R I F L A M M E → 3 yrs ago Forum: Casual Interest Checks


In The Hourglass Order → 3 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay

Dorothea Hohnstein
von Albesatz-Danzau

Manfred: @Force and Fury, Carmilla: @Animus



It doesn’t make sense! Everything went all according to plan and then it all went dark. How could I fail this much? I had everything gifted to me on a silver platter, yet I screwed it up like a damned dummkopf! The Feskan was still in deep thought as she was being led by Manfred. She couldn’t tell him what happened, can she? Would he still accept her? I’ve done the unthinkable after all…

The usually brash and loud girl was now no more than shaking and scared lamb, letting her frame be consumed by her own cloak as she tried to make herself as small as possible. It seems like being out of the chaotic brawl gave her brain ample time to start thinking about what went down.

Her eyes widened upon the realization. There stood Carmillia. The person that was supposed to help her. Did she truly leave her behind? She opened one of her small satchels and began filling her dueling pistol with gunpowder, finishing it up with the small lead ball.

As they closed the distance on the rest of the group, Dory aimed her pistol not at the mages in front of them but at her fellow student. A Mad look unbefitting the woman covered her face as she mumbled. “Filthy Perrenchwoman… Dirty traitors… You’ll pay for stamping over my trust…”

In The Hourglass Order → 3 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay

Dorothea Hohnstein
von Albesatz-Danzau


Dorothea started to sober up and started to realize what she had done, although she did not have much time to think about that right now as a tall man came towards her with the intent to clobber her with a self-made club. Instinctually she grabbed her pistol but found out it was still unloaded.

Now in an even tighter spot, the woman used the barrel of the gun to conjure a blinding flash towards the man, Disorienting him enough for her to dodge his swing. This gave her the chance to strike him on the side with the grip of her pistol to try and knock him out for a small while.

Taking a small breath before fully noticing the situation she was in, and in turn Carmillia was in. There was no sight of her, she might have been roughed up pretty badly. “Carmillia?... Carmillia! Do you hear me?” Dory yelled out, trying her hardest to find her friend.

She didn’t die in the riot, right?... But what if she abandoned me when I needed her? That would never happen, right? Dorothea felt truly alone, surrounded by fighting countrymen. The person who challenged her was nowhere in sight either. Have I really been played by everyone? Is this how it’s meant to be? To be stuck in a brawl? The woman tried her hardest to dodge most of the attacks coming her way through either using the condensed flashes or with pushing, she did not wish to seriously injure anyone.

In The Hourglass Order → 3 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay

Dorothea Hohnstein
von Albesatz-Danzau


As the shot rang through the group, the woman stood on the table and grabbed one of the half emptied cups on it. “Listen up, Kameraden!” Quickly taking the time to chug it down before continuing. “I understand this anger you are all feeling, as I feel the same way you have. However! If we just continue to get angry without doing what needs to be done, we’ll get nowhere!”

Dorothea clamped her cloak tightly as she wasn’t too used to speaking to such a massive crowd, let alone this passionately. “Your ancestors must have told you about how our dear Feska used to be before those schweine of the Rednitz took over, right? Why don’t we return to those times? Where men aren’t treated as slaves! Where there aren’t any who die in the fields of exhaustion!”

She looked around to see the faces on the people. Scared to even talk any further. Scared she would put her family in danger, however she doesn’t have much of a choice any longer. Taking a deep breath, she prepared to conclude her side of the bargain. “My name is Dorothea Hohnstein, heir of the family. I will do everything in my power to make sure to make Feska a place where the people aren’t treated like dogs any longer! But if we want to achieve such a dream…. My friends, my brothers and sisters… WE NEED THE REDNITZ TO GO!”

At the mention of her name, murmurs rippled through the crowd. The Hohnsteins were well–remembered in Feska. Their honesty and generosity had made them immensely popular, but also not popular enough to avoid the sta in the back from their fellow nobles. Yet, it was clear that, while her message had been broadly positively received, the people were looking for something a little bit more: some clear indication that she was on their side and would support their actions as opposed to simply co-opting them for noble ends. Dory could sense it.

Then, the Traveler’s agent stepped in. “A rousing speech, rich girl,” he sneered, “and some ideas I wish that more of your people expressed, but I would ask you why we should trust you? Why do we need nobles to lead us like cattle? To tell us what to do?”

It was then that a sly smirk appeared on the woman’s face. “Cattle, good sir? You have a rather rude way to address the people here. No, I do not intend to trample over you like the Rednitz do. I just wish for my people to stop suffering this much! An absolute monarchy does not fit us, now does it?”

The agent’s eyes went cold. “The words I use are apt for your people’s actions, and your change of heart very sudden and convenient, given your family’s history with the Rednitz who, I will agree, are monsters. So I would question you this: how would you have us proceed, oh noble overlord?” The crowd was clearly watching. There were scattered shouts and exhortations.

Dorothea’s face would be covered by grief. “Indeed, even our family wasn’t safe from the Rednitz’s brutality…. However, these beliefs have been shared by our family for decades.” A while later the woman reached her hands outwards into a gifting manner. “I will use all of my family’s resources, for what’s left of it at least, to make sure Feska won’t ever have people like the Rednitz rule it any longer… I wish to share power with someone chosen by the people.”

As the debate continued, the people’s rabid energy seemed to dissipate. Some were no longer on the precipice of violence, while others had grown impatient. They were drunk and angry and wanted blood. The Traveler’s agent clapped as Dorothea finished her speech, but there seemed something almost mocking about it. “And what power can you offer us that we cannot already take for ourselves,” he countered, gesturing at the huge aberration. “Would you scold us for drinking of its power and taking for ourselves what should be ours? Or would you join us!?” The last few words were spoken with a firebrand’s fervour.

“What would I offer?.... survival.” Dorothea’s stare would stab into the agent. “We should all know how small we really are, if there is no noble house that can continue to coerce our neighbors… Then Feska would be a couple specks of dust in history. I would join my people if that is what they wished, of course.” The woman paused for a second. “The only thing you forget is that I would die for Feska and its people, whether it be as a noble or a commoner!”

The crowd cheered at Dory’s words and it seemed she had won them over. The agent seemed… slightly less convinced, but more impressed than he had been. “Then we shall drink of its power together,” he proclaimed, “and seize this symbol of opulence from our oppressors.” He stretched out his hand to absorb some of the aberration. “We must all act together,” he warned, “not too much for one or the power will overwhelm.” People began filing in, nervous but trusting. Dorothea walked among them, rubbing shoulders with the commonfolk, encouraging them, leading by example. They seemed genuinely impressed with her and her unconditional nonjudgmental support. Then, the Traveler’s agent stretched out a hand towards the spot of blackness and the others followed.

Dory followed the crowd and stretched her hand out just as the others were doing. It didn’t make sense anymore, it felt both short and excruciatingly long, however when it took effect… it really took effect. She felt strong, really strong suddenly. As if she could actually kill a Rednitz with her bare hands… a Rednitz.. perhaps killing one would make this anger fade.

With a collective howl, the crowd began to surge forward, the seeds of a nascent revolution planted, Dorothea empowered, and… no real plan in sight at all.
In The Hourglass Order → 3 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay

Dorothea Hohnstein
von Albesatz-Danzau


Interacting with: Manfred:@Force and Fury, Carmilla:@Animus


Seeing the team composition made the Feskan both glad as well as scared. Having someone like Manfred around her group gave her some reassurance that she has someone to rely on as well someone who's fluent in the language. On the other hand you have a person like mister Solaire. Her thoughts about him are mostly based on rumors, although if they were true. . . It may cause more problems than needs to happen.

Eun-Ji was someone that Manfred has put his trust in so she had put her judgement of her to the side. Zarra. . . The fact that she has not a lot of knowledge on him scared her, although the fact that he was a Perrench noble told her enough. Those guys can't even trade without bickering. .

After being deep in thought on how to best use everyone on this mission she felt a shiver down her spine as the last of her teammates approached her. Carmillia another Perrench. . . Yet there is no discomfort like with others. Weirdly enough the noblewoman felt rather comfortable with the merchant, like she's known her for some time.

"Well, maybe he's not used to a bit of a chill." Dorothea whispered back to Carmillia as she snickered. Clinging to her cloak. "Let's use this chance to get to know each other better." Her unusual openness to someone she barely knows might have been noticeable by the Kerreman if he paid attention.

Finally, a chance to stick it to those damned Rednitz! If I could get my hands on one of those bastards, I will make them wish they never touched our branch families. A rather sinister smirk would appear on her face just thinking of giving them the same hurt her family felt to any extent brought her the greatest Ecstasy.

In The Hourglass Order → 3 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay

Dorothea Hohnstein
von Albesatz-Danzau


A collab post with @Force and Fury


Dorothea was walking around with her journal in hand, looking over all that she had learned these past few days. It made her rather annoyed how little of substance it was although that’s usually how the year starts. All this reading left her thirsty for a good old refreshing beer.

Most inns all serve beer with barely any craftsmanship, or at least that is what Dorothea thinks. Only the alcohol from her homeland of Feska scratches that itch and the only people that come close to it…. regrettably, are the Kerreman.

“Oh, are you perhaps also from Kerreman? What province are you from, I don’t recognize your dialect.” Why does she always have to be confused with them? “I sound nothing like those Kerries… Do I?” Not that it mattered, all that was important right now was getting a good drink.

After a long while of searching all the girl could find were Kerreman beer halls. Letting out a rather heavy sigh while tightening her cloak. “I guess I won’t be mistaken for a Kerreman here…” Having mentally prepared herself, Dorothea went inside the beer hall.

The halls were noisy and booming with cheers. Not her choice of background noise, but this wasn’t the place to complain. Choosing to sit a bit further from the big crowd, noticing someone that she’d spotted at the academy grounds. Deciding to sit next to him as a somewhat familiar face was better than a complete stranger.

Manfred had seen the girl around before. It was something with a D, he remembered. Well, she was pretty and she’d addressed him in Kerreman - though it was a particular sort, he noticed. Northerner or Feskan. To hell with it, he thought. This day had given him enough to think about. Kerremand was baiting the bull that was Perrence, and people would likely die for it. Tonight, howeverr, the idiots were celebrating. He’d put in an appearance for the free beer, to be perfectly honest, which was reason enough. He pivoted on his stool and addressed her. “You’re in a couple of my classes, right?” he began. “I’m Manfred.” He held out a hand. “Hohenfelter,” he added. “Of Meckelin-Thandau. Gods, why are our names so long?”

Dorothea looked the man in the eyes. Seems like he did remember her in some way as well. “Dorothea Hohnstein, a pleasure.” She put up a rather forced smile as she took his hand to shake it before noticing she completely forgot to complete her noble name. “Ah, of Albesatz-Danzau…” The free hand covering her face, not used to using that name yet. Trying her hardest to change the subject to cover up her embarrassment. “Yes, we do share classes… What others do you attend?”

“Ugh, too many,” he replied, waving dismissively, “and most of them aren’t of much use if I’m to be honest. I come here for the beer to forget about them, and today it’s free. How about you?”

“I tried to choose a couple that would’ve helped me improve on my existing skills mostly.” She answered before letting out a sigh. “But there’s barely anything new for me to learn there.” Her hand went up in the air as she asked for a beer. “If it’s free I may be here all day!”

Unbidden, Manfred let out a laugh. “Hah! You’re cut off. It’s night, Dorothea Hohnstein of Albesatz-Danzau!” He took a sip, cheeks perhaps a bit rosy, and grinned. “Look outside!”

That smile of hers quickly turned to a frown. “Who cares if it’s night? Don’t people keep drinking till the sun rises?” She took his mug and sipped from it. “I guess I’ll take yours then if I’m cut off!”

“Treacherous woman!” He grabbed hers and took a sip back. “All’s fair now!” Manfred grinned challengingly. Their arms had actually linked while stealing each other’s drinks. “This is a Feskan beer,” he stated, ninety percent sure of it. “I took you for a Swampy. You clip your r’s like one.”

“That’s the only thing that made you realize I was a Feskan?” She took his mug and placed hers to replace it. “There, now drink beer how it’s meant to be drunk!”

“That and the beer theft,” he accused, chugging what was left. “I’ll not have a Feskan telling me how to drink my beer, thank you very much.” By Ipte, she was pretty, and he was half-certain it wasn’t only the alcohol making him feel that way. “Say, you Feskan crook, have you ridden the teufelsrad yet?”

“Beer trade.” She corrected, chugging the other mug. “Why not? We make the best beer on the continent!” Why was it so easy for her to talk to him so easily? Even alcohol doesn’t make it that easy normally. “Teufelsrad? My father told me about it back when I was younger.”

“You haven’t ridden a teufelsrad before? Dory, you’re missing out!” He grabbed her arm, feeling a bit presumptuous for a moment, but he would of course be a gentleman. “Come on! They’re about to start a new round.”

“I haven’t, is it that good?” She let out a soft gasp as he grabbed her arm, surprised by the action. “How do I even play it?” Seeing his excitement was enough to suck her into the same excitement.

“Ah,” he began, “so you take a position on the wheel. You want to be near the middle or you get thrown off by the…what was the word again. Scheisse!” He paused and furrowed his brow as they walked. “Oh yeah,” he recalled, “the centrifugal force. When the music starts, the wheel will start spinning. It’ll spin faster and faster and people slide off. Last one still on is the winner. That’ll be me, of course.”

“Is that all there is to the game? Sounds simple enough!” She smiled and got her competitive spirit on. “It’ll be you? Are you really that confident in your own ability or are you trying to show off in front of me?” A rather crude hit against his arm as Dorothea chuckled.

There were about a dozen people gathered behind the gate as they arrived, and it looked about to open. The band was warming up and the announcer was just finishing up talking with a handful of spectators. “So, the question is,” Manfred whispered, leaning in, “do we play fair, end up on the outside, and lose, or do we leap ahead with the Gift and get a good spot near the middle?”

The woman started to rub her chin softly before smacking him on the back. “Guess it’ll just be more challenging for us then! Hope you don’t mind doing it all fair.”

“Fair is my middle name,” Manfred protested, “and colour me impressed: a Feskan playing fair. Never thought I’d live to see the day.” Truth be told, there had been a time when Manfred had been certain he would not live to see another day at all. The anxiety of it nibbled at the back of his consciousness, but that was fleeting at best. He had good beer in his belly and a fun, pretty girl to mercilessly stomp at a game of teufelsrad. Life was good at the moment. Then, the horn sounded. The announcer shouted, “Go, go, go, you little devils!” and he joined all of the others in the mad scramble for the best spots.

“Not playing fair? If I ever was caught cheating before a game my grandfather would roll in his grave.” Dorothea proclaimed smugly. “And you have a pretty low opinion of us Feskans, why’s that?”

Sliding into place closer to the middle than he expected, with Dorothea more or less beside him, Manfred paused. It was hard to hear anything above the cheers of the crowd. “You don’t actually think so, do you?” He shook his head, finding that he almost needed to shout to be heard. “It’s just the same sort of thing a big brother does to his younger one. I’m rather partial to Feksans, actually.” It was half a lie. He loved their cuisine and the few he’d met had been pleasant people, but the way that they treated their workers was atrocious. “Much better than Holmanians,” he added. Now that was wholly truthful. Just then, as he glanced her way for a response, the music began and he could feel the wheel start to turn.

“Well the last Kerreman student that found out that I was Feskan called me a stingy succubus. I was so mad, I almost grew horns on the spot.” She shouted as the crowd’s cheers would make it quite hard to understand.

Manfred laughed at the image. “Well, you did come here for the free beer,” he shouted back, arching an eyebrow. His expression quickly turned to alarm, however, as the great wheel picked up speed and he felt himself begin to slip.

“That’s true… but there’s nothing wrong with free stuff, is there?” She shouted back with a rather proud tone. Her eyebrow was raised as she saw his face contort to alarm. “What’s wrong? Not used to this?”

Manfred caught himself for a second. Three others were spun off of the wheel in rapid succession. “Nonsense! I am a Honehfelter of Meckelin-Thandau. Victory or glorious death!” Truth be told, he was quite inebriated. It didn’t help the dizziness any. “But,” he added slyly, “If I go down, woman, I am taking you with me, chivalry be damned.”

Dorothea’s smile turned quite sinister. “Me? Going down with you?” She looked around and noticed that quite a bit of people had already fallen off. “How do you see that happening then? As you’ve noticed, I can hold on for quite a bit longer.”

She was right, of course. She was small and light and had managed to squeeze herself into a spot close to the very center. Manfred blinked. The music was loud, the colours swirled, and there was altogether too much lederhosen in evidence here. He tried to pull himself up a bit further, but then the wheel accelerated again and he found himself slipping irreversibly. Truth be told, he was awful at the teufelsrad, so he laid himself out on his side, elbow on the floor, hand on his chin, and grinned as he slid away, throwing in a wink at the very end. “Farewell, succubus!” He tumbled off of the wheel and lay there in a heap for a moment, staring up at the ceiling. “That’s only three remaining!” shouted the announcer, “who will it be!? Cheer for your favourite!”

He really had to show off to his last moment on this battlefield of a game, causing her to click her tongue with her cheeks glowing a slight red. “Farewell, Spasti… Wait, only three remaining?” The Feskan was surprised by the amount left, was she too focused on the man who invited her on the wheel? “How’s the heap feeling there?”

Manfred sat up. Dory had said something, but he’d be damned if he’d understood it over all of the noise. He grabbed onto the railing and pulled himself to his feet, accepting backslaps from a few observers. It was tempting to push at some of the others just a touch to see if he could make her win, but that’d be unsporting and he was actually curious if she could pull it off. He blinked and averted his eyes for a moment. The way the women were on the wheel, you could see quite far up their dresses. While he didn’t mind the view, there was decency to be considered too. Keeping an eye on proceedings, he grabbed his beer stein from the tall table where he’d left it and took a refill from one of the roving waitresses. Amazingly, Dorothea was still holding on, though she was starting to look like she might hurl.

“Alright, now it’s getting a bit more challenging…” The woman slowly but surely started to lose her grip on the wheel. She wasn’t going to lose her first game after coming this far, was she? Looking around, she noticed the two others were also slipping but the question was who was slipping slower than the rest? The first to go was getting too dizzy to carry on and quickly lost their grip a while later. Now there were just two left.

“Don’t slip, Dory!” Manfred shouted, partly mocking, but mostly encouraging. “Use those muscles!” He took another sip of his beer and grinned.

[color=86608E]“I know, I know! You don’t have to tell me!”[/cplor] Dory yelled back, quite annoyed by his words. Both her and the other contestant were close to falling off. As she was about to fall off she kicked herself up before falling off, little did she know that that little stunt caused her to win by such a small margin that the announcer and bandmaster had to take a moment to confer.

“It was Dory!” shouted Manfred, “the Feskan wearing the dead otter on her shoulders! She won!”

“You know what, Meine Damen und Herren, I think we should vote!” the announced crowed. “Loudest cheer wins.” He spun on the spot, working up the crowd. “If you think Fräulein Margarethe Leitmer von Assalin-Heinkel deserves it, let me hear you!”

People whooped and hollered and their cheers thundered off of the walls. Prancing about the clearing around the teufelsrad, the announcer spread his arms, and Manfred could not help but be reminded somewhat of Leon Solaire’s theatrics. “If you think it’s fräulein Dorothea Hohnstein von Albesatz-Danzau, make some noise!!!”

People damned-near blew the roof off of the beer hall with their noise, but Manfred decided to use a little bit of his kinetic wizardry to make the victor that much more certain. He grinned roguishly, as she was presented with the trophy and a reward of one free meal each day from the restaurant for the rest of the school year.

“See? Told you I’d be able to do it!” The still dizzy student would lean against the other for support. “Guess you won’t have to pay for my meals now, huh.” A laugh followed by a soft elbow jab in his sides.

“The perfect reward for a stingy succubus,” he teased, jumping a bit as she shoved her elbow into his side. “Ouch! And a feisty one too.” He put an arm around her shoulder to steady her. Yes, definitely only to steady her. “But really, good show. Colour me impressed.” They took a few steps away from the louder area, back towards where they’d started, and passed a group of students murmuring excitedly amongst themselves. “Francois Laroux,” one said. “Arc-en-Ciel,” he overheard another. “Yeah, in the practice hall - we should go.” Mannfred tried not to make it obvious he was snooping, but everybody was drunk and nobody much cared. “Hey, looks like Francois Laroux’s performing in the mess hall of The Castle,” he told Dory. “Wanna score a free concert too?”

“A free concert? Count me in!” a grin covered her face as she thought for a bit. “It’s quite fitting for a stingy succubus like me, right?” She locked her arm with his as a sign that they should go. It was one that Manfred heartily agreed with.

Certainly, when the day had started, neither of them had expected it to go the way that it had. As he reclined on a settee in Arc-en-Ciel’s large practice hall, arm around a beautiful woman, warm food and good beer filling him, listening to the Twin continents’ second most renowned young performer strum away on a lute, Manfred was as happy as he could remember himself being since his childhood - since before the war. In truth, it was not a concert, but a loose crowd of people had gathered in various states of inebriation, and Francois, who’d been practicing, had not told them to leave. He seemed in his own world anyhow, and the music that he played tonight oddly more soulful than the often bawdy tunes that he was best known for. The Kerreman glanced down at Dory, her head resting against her shoulder. “You know, I’m glad that we have tomorrow off, more or less, though I’m in that camp class.” He stifled a yawn. “How about you? Got any classes tomorrow or did you dodge the bullet?”

"I don't have anything important tomorrow, why do you ask?" He had really become her person of comfort in this school. "Are you suggesting something with that question?" A smug smirk filling her expression as she whispered it in his ear.

Manfred blinked. He had not thought… but he had. But he hadn’t, of course, for Manfred was a gentleman… somewhat. Somewhat of a gentleman. “I am merely suggesting what I think is already in that pretty little succubus head of yours.” He grinned conspiratorially. “But um… I also did want to know if you were in that camp class tomorrow, haha.” He chuckled a bit. It would be nice to see more of her. They hadn’t been placed in the same apprentice group, but being in some classes together would be nice.

"What's already in my head? There are many things going on in there, you have to be more specific." She winked quite teasingly. "I am not… but I don't mind signing up for it." She was serious about this choice. Spending time with him seemed more fun than her current classes after all.

“The sort of stuff one would usually expect of a succubus,” Manfred teased, as Francois’ music grew softer and more intimate. “And if you need help navigating that tangle of bureaucracy to switch your courses, I’ve got a connection or two. It’s gonna cost you, though…” He grinned, looking her eye to eye for a moment.

"Then name your price. I will try my hardest to pay it. As a Feskan you have my word." The music had become nothing more than background noise now. "And you must be quite knowledgeable on succubi if you're so sure." She put a finger on his chin.

“How about this?” he replied, and he simply couldn’t bear it any longer. She was beautiful. By Ipte, she was. There was a glow about her: a sense of fun and mischief, and a whole other side - a mind he had yet to explore, but Manfred reached out and took her gently in his arms. He leaned in and kissed her and their lips became a single thing, connecting them. He could feel the muscles in her shoulders and back flex. He could feel that dainty little waist. Her eyes sparkled and everything else faded away.

Did it actually happen? Her mind was processing it all but nothing made sense. Was she really starting to like a Kerreman? Her body sure didn't mind, it was like the kiss caused her body to feel something she wasn't used to. As the kiss faded, she wouldn't let go of his embrace. Completely speechless, her eyes told him how she felt.

It was a cliche but it was true. It seemed like forever and no time at all before they separated. Manfred reached up and brushed some of the hair from her face with his fingertips. “Paid in full,” he said with a soft chuckle.

Around them, a handful of glances were stolen. Manfred did not care very much about those, though. With a final flourish, Francois finished his song and people applauded. He was tuning his lute now. The magusjaeger blinked. Dory was still very much right there in his arms, warm and soft against him. “You know,” Manfred began, “if you stay like that, I’m going to have to carry you.”

"Then I'll stay like this until you do!" She looked up and let her tongue out teasingly. Did she actually find a man she liked? What would mother think of him? Father would like him a lot but it's always a gamble with mother..

“You little shit, you,” he taunted, hefting her up and standing somewhat unsteadily. He gave her a little kiss on the tip of the nose. “Too stingy to even walk on her own.” He shook his head playfully. They had best find somewhere to go. He wanted her, truth be told, and not just in the way that he might fancy many pretty women. There was something just… lovable about her. And she is a Feskan noble, he remembered. Father would approve. Mother would approve because I’d ‘followed my heart’. “Well, if you won’t walk yourself, then I get to take you wherever I want.” He grinned mischievously and began moving.

"Well, maybe I'm still dizzy from the game you had me win. Got a problem with carrying me?"

“Psh, you're a feather,” Manfred scoffed.

Something about being with him felt just right, even a little kiss on her nose made her heart skip a beat. "Wherever will you take me? Not your dungeon, right? That would be oh so cruel!" Her acting skills weren't her strong side but they did their job.

“I would never be so cruel. I prefer to think of it as my castle.” He winked. “I have a real one at home, I promise.” With that, they exited the building. Eventually, Dorothea did find her way back to her feet. Being carried to bed is romantic. Being carried half a kilometer across campus gets old after a bit.

Someone was launching their own fireworks in the Arboretum and the booms and crashes echoed through the air. A group of Jorubans were up late drinking Danzagg and cheering rowdily for their favourites in a game of Ziggurats. It was a warm and a cool night at the same time, but it was bright and beautiful. Four of the five moons were up in the sky. Eike, Raske, Murri, Zollmun, he recited in his head, remembering the childhood rhyme he’d used to help memorize them. Eberhoff comes once a month. He hummed along with it and noticed Dory, nestled under his arm, doing the same, as if she’d grown up with it too. “You know the rhyme too, hmm?” he asked. They were nearing his dorm and would soon be there.

"I do, my father used it to teach me about the moons. Is that rhyme in Kerremand as well?"
She continued to hum it after answering his question." As they walked around, she overheard people talking about the explosion. Today's events almost made her forget about it. "Hey, Manfred… What do you know about the explosion?"

Explosion… Manfred thought for a moment. “I heard some people talking about an explosion earlier, while we were listening to Laroux, right?” He sighed and shrugged. “I know nothing and I have little enough desire to worry about it tonight.” He glanced up at the stars, that nursery rhyme still stuck in his head. “If I’ve learned anything, it’s that strange things always happen at Ersand’Enise. Hope everyone’s alright, though.”

"I hope so too, it would be a shame if that explosion ruined even one of the bright minds here…" she smacked her own head. "Enough about that. It's only about us, right now."

For most of Manfred’s life, it had always been about other people. His brother, the heir, had come first. His sister and her treatment had come first when she came down with the Tethering. Then, his country had come first when war had come knocking. Even recently, he had put Eun-Ji’s feelings first before his own. He was always doing things like that. “You’re right,” he agreed. “It’s only about us.”

And so it was.

In The Hourglass Order → 3 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay





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