Kassarock

The Arrangement [Suki & Kassarock]

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Art by Chris Hull

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There was still a thin line of mist hanging above the opposite shore of the lake when Ozragad arrived at the camp. The low hillock it was situated upon gave a good view of the dark blue waters, the distant forests, and the hills and mountains that rose above them all. The chill was dissipating from the late morning air, as more and more sun broke threw the patches of cloud to bathe the land beneath in their rays. Perhaps the Princess right after all, he mused to himself as he surveyed the horizon, it is good weather for a hunt.

The top of the hillock was taken up by a pair of large canvas pavilions, between them there had been erected a wooden platform covered by an awning. The rest of the camp of lesser pavilions and common tents had been arranged around these, leaving a clear central avenue the dais looked down onto. They would be hunting all day, or gods forbid, multiple days, and therefore there was a good chance they would be spending the night here. Ozragad did not mind particularly, he was more than used to living on the march, it was the theatre of it all that grated at him. He did not appreciate an audience to his leisure time.

For some reason the King found himself thinking about her again, did she hate the artifice of all this as much he did? Or was she inured to such things from her time in Eozia? Had she ever slept beneath the open sky? Had she ever hunted into mountains and forests such as these?

She was a strange creature to him. In some small ways Ozragad supposed they were similar, their royal upbringing, their fiery tempers and fierce wills, their own share of traumas. Though at the same time, they were profoundly different, their race, their gender, their age, the very lives they had led. How was it then she had been able to pierce him so with a simple question? And somehow dredge her up from the depths of his soul. Livueta.

"You're staring." The voice made him jump. It was Manawyndan, he could tell just from the dry rasp of the old Formori's throat, but he had not heard him approach. Never forget, he is a spymaster, he knows those subtle arts better than you.

"I was thinking actually."

"About what exactly, sire?" The councillor raised an eyebrow he query.

"Nothing, nothing that matters at least. Shall we get on with this?" There might have been a time he would have devulged his thoughts to Manawyndan, but that time seemed to have passed. After all, someone was trying to kill him. Manawyndan certainly had means... but did he have motive? Either way he should trust no one. And yet you are busy taking the Eorzian child into your confidences.

He turned his back on the lake and strode to the wooden dais erected between the two royal tents. The majority of the courtiers were milling around in the camp, the servants hard at work preparing the tents for their masters, the guards either at their stations or patrolling the outer edge of the camp. On the wooden stage were a number of Ozragad's inner circle, his two other present councillors, Lords Iria and Urathon, Lady Cheldarine and her family.

"Lord Iria will make the announcement, if it pleases Your Majesty." Manawyndan again, slipping in beside him, whispering to him what would happen. How had he once been comforted by this man's ever-present presence? Now he thought about, was there not something sinister about a councillor who was too useful, too indispensable?

"Very well. Get on with it." Ozragad spoke brusquely with a dismissive wave of his hand. Iria turned to a herald standing at the edge of the platform, at his signal the long call of the hunting horn sounded once more.

Game: Gnome Town

>[X] Heal the Sick

The Arrangement [Suki & Kassarock]

Hey sorry I haven't been posting recently, had a little bit of a creative burnout, will get working on something today.

What Are You Listening To?

Lost Mine Of Phandelver (D&D 5e) (CLOSED)

Not trying anything that requires a roll before we leave.

I am happy the middle-ish of the party, either directly in front of Tibor, or right in the middle.

What kind of RP mood are you in?

It's a bit weird because I haven't played in one for so long, but I'm really feeling the urge to play in something sci-fi for a change. I've always wanted to do something set in Ian M. Banks's Culture universe, maybe I will next time I get my ass round to GMing something.

Lost Mine Of Phandelver (D&D 5e) (CLOSED)

@Necroes@Dark Cloud Azra will try unless @Cu Chulainn wants to have a go first?

The Arrangement [Suki & Kassarock]

Alright another post, I was really wrestling with how much I wanted Ozragad to say there, but I still think its too soon to put all the cards on the table.

The Arrangement [Suki & Kassarock]

He listened to her story without comment or interruption as they rode deeper into the valleys. The scattered clouds overhead began to clear, driven away by a strong westerly breeze, flying out towards the ashlands. All there was were sounds for the horse's hooves against the stones, the whistling of the winds through the mountains, and the Princess's voice as she told her tale. The tale of her previous taste of death.

It had not been a story Ozragad had heard before. He could understand why, it did not reflect particularly well on Regis, as both father and King. Indeed, the Eorzians would have surely wanted to keep that sordid episode hidden. Rebels when she was thirteen? Were you funding those ones, or could Regis not pay since you were busy invading him that year? Or perhaps both?

It was true, he probably had some sort of hand in it, if you looked deeply enough. He had always been most eager to exploit whatever weaknesses could be found in Eorzia. He had needed to, they were the smaller country, with the smaller army, he had used every underhand tactic to level the playfield in his favour at some point or other. That had included sending money to Eorzian rebels. And even if he had not funded those particular ones, his wars would have taken away soldiers that could have been dealing with such things. Those wars also cost money, money that could have been used to ransom a Princess.

At the time he had never felt guilt about using such tactics. It had been war. But now... now could not help but feel a small pang of regret. It seemed Ozragad had caused this Princess suffering along before they had ever even met.

"I have taken wounds before on the battlefield, some serious. It is not the same though, often you do not even realise how bad the injury is until the fight is almost over. The rush of battle, it numbs the pain, makes you feel invincible at times. I am a martial man, I have never felt helpless in a battle." The King let his words trail off, taken by the wind. For a while he just stared out into the distance, past the Princess, looking back even further, into his own past. "...But I do know the feeling you speak of."

Of course he knew that feeling. Watching your life slip away before you and being absolutely powerless to do anything about it. How else could he describe what he had felt the day she had left him? Liveuta. It had not been him that had died that day, but in some ways Ozragad felt he had never truly lived since then either.

He had felt so helpless then.

A shadow flickered across his face, a mixture of emotions too many to give name to.

"I know how it is to watch your life slip away through your fingers." He did not say anything more, he could not bring himself to.

They rode on in silence for a while longer. Above them hawks wheeled on the air currents, their sharp cries piercing the quiet as they hovered, waiting to dive down and bring death to the small helpless creatures that hid in the meadow grass. The few signs of inhabitation they had seen as they had left Cirith Anyr, a scattering of stone walled fields, the odd herder tending their flock, had long his disappeared. The lands they were in now were empty and wild. In time Ozragad found his tongue again.

"I doubt it means much, coming from a man like myself. But I am truly sorry that you had to feel such a thing. At such a young age." There had once been a time he would wished that despair on every man, woman and child in Eorzia. You still would if you thought it would bring her back. But it would not, he realised that now.

As they rounded the corner of another hillside, the valley below them began to widen out.

It was a place where three different valleys met, and it formed something of a large natural bowl in the landscape, surrounded by dark stony peaks and high desolate moors. The lowlands themselves were a mixture of open grassland and woods, a small lake at its centre. On a grassy knoll overlooking the dark blue waters was a small encampment of pavilions already set up, awaiting their guests.

They had arrived at the where the King would stage his hunt today.

"Ah, here already." The sound of a hunting horn rang off in the distance. "That... that was not a conversation I was expecting to have today. I thank you, Princess, for your sincerity." And with that he spurred his horse, sending it off into a gallop, to race down to the encampment below them.

What Are You Listening To?