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(I can use my crystal character)

(PMs are a bit unsure about whether or not you should join. You'll get a message if they decide to let you join.)

(May Roemello join?)

Freya now had to spend quite some time learning how to pay the man for the one apple she had mistakenly took from his shop before continuing on her way.
Though as her and her small band of guards moved closer to the palace they began to notice that the streets grew thicker and thicker with masses of peasants and workers.
Deciding it was the best course of action to take a back road, she and her guards moved quickly to the side of the rode and made to walk through a nearby alley.

As she walked through the alley however, one of her guardsmen bumped into a man with one ear.
Now at first he seemed fearful of them for a reason she did not understand, but after he calmed down some and explained his plight.

Feeling sympathetic to this man, and the family he mentioned including his lover and child
She motioned to one of her guards who reached beneath his robes and pulled out a small bag.
Upon doing this she gave him instructions he had to fallow.
"In this bag are three beans, one for you, one for your lover, and one for the child. At dusk each of you is to take one and crush it beneath your foot. Afterwards you each must make a cut on your wrist and paint a single stripe with your blood on each side of the doorway.
Then you must cross the doorway and find sanctuary in the land that lies on the other side."

With that she handed the confused man the bag herself and made her way from the alley, carefully watching as he dissolved into the crowds behind her.

It was a common rumor that the Order of the Bent Knee was under the White King's magical thrall, granted mysterious powers in exchange for their freedom. The exact nature of the spell--and the boons it granted him--was complex and intricate, and to comprehend its full nature would require extensive study. Apparos would be able to tell, however, that there was a little bit of the Hanged Man left under whatever sorcery bound him, though it was like looking for a thin moon behind quickly-scudding clouds.

The Hanged Man led his squadron of footmen through the fortified castle gates. There were no other members of the Order in sight. They numbered roughly two dozen, mostly scattered across Crystalia doing the White King's work. Servants and soldiers averted their eyes as the pale knight strode towards the throne room. His squadron was dismissed, so that when he opened the doors to the White King's chamber, he was alone. His footsteps echoed across the quiet hall.

He removed his helmet--a show of respect for his king, for even his soldiers had never seen his face. His complexion was ashen and his eyes sunken deep in his skull, ringed by shadows. Under one cheek was a gash that somehow seemed raw, yet it didn't bleed. He yearned to look up at his radiant king, but he didn't dare lift his gaze.

He knelt in the pool of red wine that the servant girl had spilled and bent forward subserviently, letting his blond hair tumble down. The wine was brilliant crimson against the pale marble and his white armor, looking almost like blood he had shed. When he spoke, his words were ritualized. "I-I am your tool, sire," he rasped. Some of his usual stutter snuck through. "Your sword and shield, your fist and word. To you I am bound, forever."

Standing next to his l'iege, Roeme was literally at his right hand. Observing the kneeling man, he sensed no hostility but he couldn't be certain. Taking a single nonchalant half step towards the sitting royalty, he simply listened.

As Apparos looked over them all, Ver suddenly and inexplicably felt very unnerved and wanted nothing more than to leave this bar. He looked through the crowd, decided that the unconscious individuals were probably okay, then turned and pushed through the door as quickly as he could. The cold air burnt his throat before he managed to adjust to it.
He glanced both ways to make sure he wasn't anywhere near the members of the Order, then made his way to stand at the lip of an alleyway. Hearing voices, he glanced down, then scolded himself for eavesdropping. But still, what was that lady doing helping such a criminal?

As he stood on the rooftop, silently waiting, he could see the one dressed in scales, the one who called himself Ver, hurry out of the tavern. "Looks like one of them noticed. And how nice of him to go into a deserted alleyway. All alone. Well, except for that man, but I could always slit his throat if he tried anything." He reached out and slashed a portal leading down to the alley, the other side right in front of Ver. His eyes went black as he sent his message 'Come forth if you wish to be rid of the Order of the Bent Knee.'

The White King's eyes glowed a bright white but soon settled. "Rise, my Knight. I have a new task for you. One that is of the utmost importance. There is an emissary here, but I do not know where. All I know is that she landed this day with her ensemble of guards. I do not want them dead, but watched. I want these.... Outsiders... To know who is king. Make any and all executions public, and increase the floggings. We must set the tone for our visitors." The King turned to Roemello and raised an eyebrow. Rising to his feet, the White King's power filled the air. "Have you news of the One Eared Man?"

Eddard turned to watch the armored dolls leave, snorting after the leader left. He finished his drink and left three gold pieces on the counter, two for drinks and one for the unconscious drunk who still laid sprawled out on the ground. Checking his weapons and his belongings after exiting the tavern, he noticed the streets were unusually filled. Interesting. Deciding to go to the marketplace for some brief shopping, Eddard pushed through the crowd that he towered over. His blade scraped someone's arm, but he moved forward without looking back.

Ver flinched away from Apparos's appearance (haha), pressing himself deep against the wall. Instead of going for his sword, the moment he caught his breath, he drew fire from the air to line his forearms, so when he folded his arms it functioned as a shield of fire. "What the hell?" he burst. "Get- Do you think I'm-" He caught himself, then forced his stance to relax a bit, but kept the fire strong and his eyes on the phantom. Apparos would be able to read clearly Ver's fear, though he was doing a dandy job controlling it. "Who are you? What do you want?"

"His whereabouts still evade the king's ear. Even the daily rounds undercover the townsfolk only have heresay. But I will remain deligient in my research my l'iege." Giving a fist over hearted bow. "As for our guests...How would you have me respond?"

Freya continued to walk amongst the people which now seemed to thin out as it was now much later.
Now seemed as good a time as any in her opinion to take a rest, and soon they did as she and her guards entered a small inn nearby and requested A small room for rest.

She then made her way
Up the stairs into the small room where upon entering she set her her belongings out on the table at the side of the bed which was a small modest thing covered in various furs and types of cloth.
She then approached the nearby window and leaned on to the currently open window to view the people walking upon the streets below, maybe she could now see that dark force that pulled at her mind earlier?

Apparos studied Ver for a moment. Though he wore a permanent grin, his white eyes showed genuine amusement at Ver's reaction to his sudden appearance. "I thought I made myself clear. Come forth if you want to be rid of the Order of the Bent Knee. I cannot talk with you here, as someone would see me, and I'm sure you know how that would go." He glanced over at the one-eared man. "You better move on, my friend. The King has a price on your head, and even though it's for a rather strange reason, I would be more than happy in making a profit off your sorry hide." He looked back at Ver, and said, with finality "Come with me if you want the Order gone, and stay here if you want to continue living under the White King's rule." Apparos suddenly felt a presence above him, as if he was being watched. He looked up and saw the woman in silk perched above him, unaware as she looked out into the streets. He did not know why he knew she was looking for him, but why else would she look out upon the street of peasants. "I'll leave it to your decision." He said to Ver, as he shifted the portal's other entrance to inside the room the woman was in. "Looking for me?" He asked, crossing through the portal.

"Do you take me for a fool?" Ver lowered his arms and dimmed the fire so he could give Apparos a solid, less fearful gaze. "Listen, I'd love to. I'm a man against all this absolute power stuff and I hope you find me a powerful ally, but for the love of the gods, at least tell me where I'm going to be following you, or I'll find some other way to do good."
This would have to end soon, as the presence of fire against the snowy backdrop was starting to attract attention.

"Wherever there aren't eavesdroppers." Instead of turning around Apparos leaned back until he was facing Ver on the other side of the portal. "So in here or on the rooftops. Pick your poison Scales, you're drawing attention."

If Apparos could see clearly into Ver's mind, he'd be able to see Ver going over many past... endeavors, the pinnacle of it a crisp memory of digging a blade into the eye of a dragon the same colour of the scales he wore. Yeah, he thought. This probably isn't the most dangerous thing I've gotten out alive from.
Ver, like, the big brave boy he is, exhaled and let his fire go out, dropping his arms. He straightened up, rested a hand on the hilt of his sword, and followed Apparos off the streets and into the portal.

For a moment she ignored the intruders, and as did her guards. Then slowly turning she met the eyes of the two men now in her room. The setting sun behind her illuminated her hair giving her a silvery white halo, and the scaled pattern of her dress glittered like stars against the dark blue of the dress over all. This combined with her pale skin and bright eyes gave her a nearly angelic look.

"Welcome gentlemen."
She spoke soft as a whisper "for what do I have the pleasure of having such company?"

"That is a matter that I would like to discuss privately." Apparos eyed the guards, flexing his claws in apprehension of a fight. "So either call off your guards, or... take off that charm of yours. It doesn't matter what you're trying to protect in there, it means nothing to me."

A shudder passed through the Hanged Man as the White King spoke. My knight, the man had said said. Aye, liege--I am yours, Hangman thought. He rose to his feet but kept his head low and eyes obediently upon the floor, no matter how badly he desired to gaze upon the king. All knights of the Bent Knee were bound in servitude and utterly loyal, but perhaps only the Hanged Man was smitten in such a way.

He opened his mouth to reply when Roemello cut in first. Venomous green eyes locked on the man who dared to stand so brazenly beside the throne. "You will not speak to his majesty unless you are spoken to," he hissed.

His expression softened when he looked back to the king. "No sign of him yet, my radiant lord. If it--if it please you, I shall execute someone every dawn and dusk until his whereabouts are divulged." The one-eared man had raped a priestess, after all. Shuddering again in a sick glee, the Hanged Man went on. Momentarily his stutter grew worse, though he was not nervous. "How w-would you prefer I do it, sire? The b-brazen bull? The pear of anguish? Per--perhaps the Catherine wheel? In the meantime, I will search for the emissary you s-speak of ..."