Tara nodded when Katja gave her the offer to join in on the assault; though unaffiliated, it was not in the warrior's nature to turn up a chance at helping others. She patiently watched as the knight looked through the package and answered, "He wouldn't say... but had an attitude about him that made me think he was highborn, sent down from the lord's castle on an errand. He said that the lord wished to be informed if supplies were an issue or anything was going wrong."
_
The man that grabbed Atoli hissed as her talons dug into his leg; his priority was finding purchase in the trees so her shout and Marcello's yelled inquiry would go unanswered by the stranger. He growled and swung his feet forward, still scrambling for something to settle on, but it was for naught. With the increased strain as Atoli started moving and he kept struggling caused the branch to snap, sending the two falling further from the trees. His weight and posture before the snap meant that the stranger fell beneath the harpy, sparing her some of the fall at his expense; he cried out when they hit the ground, letting go of Atoli altogether while scrambling for a dagger on his hip. No longer in the trees, the two would likely be easier to spot by the vigilant cambion, as well as others who were also curious about the shouting.
_
Kerik could hardly tell that Tom seemed harmless; to him, the boy was clearly some sort of monster who took the guise of a boy. He squinted a bit as he started receiving questions, lifting his healed hand in a defensive gesture. He felt dry, cold and thoroughly dizzy after all of the beatings he'd taken that day, so it was impossible to keep up. "Hey, hey... a little slower... uh... I got it. My boss... is Chieftain Grum. His friends call him... the Pineless, for some reason. I don't know how many there are, kid. I'd guess a hundred or so...?"
_
The chieftain watched as Merthyr spoke and tried to piece it all together. When the gold was placed on the counter he swept it up before the frightened bartender could even try to take it, guessing at the weight of it and peeking inside. Some of the bandits in the tavern could not help but start laughing, some saying, "Sure! What a party!" and "Cheers, lad!" While the others stayed still, watching him like wolves in the brush. Grum glanced at the wanted poster and grinned broadly, pushing the parchment back in the new king's direction while jabbing his thumb over his name. "Tell me, human. Who calls their human child 'Grum'?" He chuckled.
"Lads, lads!" the chieftain spread his arms, facing the crowd. "Have some respect! We have a guest, and what a charmer too! I say we give a toast to his healthful arrival!" The minotaur waved a hand at some of the patrons, beckoning them over. "Get him a seat!" The men beckoned would then try to grab the outnumbered royalty, intending on tying him to one of the many chairs in the tavern.
_
The man that grabbed Atoli hissed as her talons dug into his leg; his priority was finding purchase in the trees so her shout and Marcello's yelled inquiry would go unanswered by the stranger. He growled and swung his feet forward, still scrambling for something to settle on, but it was for naught. With the increased strain as Atoli started moving and he kept struggling caused the branch to snap, sending the two falling further from the trees. His weight and posture before the snap meant that the stranger fell beneath the harpy, sparing her some of the fall at his expense; he cried out when they hit the ground, letting go of Atoli altogether while scrambling for a dagger on his hip. No longer in the trees, the two would likely be easier to spot by the vigilant cambion, as well as others who were also curious about the shouting.
_
Kerik could hardly tell that Tom seemed harmless; to him, the boy was clearly some sort of monster who took the guise of a boy. He squinted a bit as he started receiving questions, lifting his healed hand in a defensive gesture. He felt dry, cold and thoroughly dizzy after all of the beatings he'd taken that day, so it was impossible to keep up. "Hey, hey... a little slower... uh... I got it. My boss... is Chieftain Grum. His friends call him... the Pineless, for some reason. I don't know how many there are, kid. I'd guess a hundred or so...?"
_
The chieftain watched as Merthyr spoke and tried to piece it all together. When the gold was placed on the counter he swept it up before the frightened bartender could even try to take it, guessing at the weight of it and peeking inside. Some of the bandits in the tavern could not help but start laughing, some saying, "Sure! What a party!" and "Cheers, lad!" While the others stayed still, watching him like wolves in the brush. Grum glanced at the wanted poster and grinned broadly, pushing the parchment back in the new king's direction while jabbing his thumb over his name. "Tell me, human. Who calls their human child 'Grum'?" He chuckled.
"Lads, lads!" the chieftain spread his arms, facing the crowd. "Have some respect! We have a guest, and what a charmer too! I say we give a toast to his healthful arrival!" The minotaur waved a hand at some of the patrons, beckoning them over. "Get him a seat!" The men beckoned would then try to grab the outnumbered royalty, intending on tying him to one of the many chairs in the tavern.
"Who? Too many... any woman forced with an unwanted child would. Last week alone I saw an infant executed because she was called harpy, not that they exist either..." admitted Merthyr with a regretful pang of guilt pointing out just how common it had become lately.
Seeing the bandits approach, he backed away slowly against the counter, weary and cautious as he spoke. "Now now... distance, gentlemen, distance... I do not like to be manhandled" informed firmly as if that would make any difference "Besides... I can't stay here too long, the lord will need to hear that all is calm if not festive here at the village" pointed out Merthyr with haste seeking an excuse to leave.
He went quiet and scouted the room briefly with pursed lips, taking in the surrounding. He was clearly outnumbered and locked up thus it would be futile and foolish to even try to resist or escape. He sighed in defeat and surrendered to be seized and left at these rogues' mercy, if any was to be found. He reluctantly disarmed, taking out his sword and daggers and chucked them at Grum's feet, the expensive hilt alone betraying his wealthy background as he knelt with his hands raised behind the head awaiting the inevitable.
*****
Lwyncelyne and Taff finally reached the militia camp's entrance, weary and tired after the long journey, attracted by the sounds emanating from the scuffle. At first they kept a little distance for fear of bandits but proceeded forward for the king's life was at stake
Seeing the bandits approach, he backed away slowly against the counter, weary and cautious as he spoke. "Now now... distance, gentlemen, distance... I do not like to be manhandled" informed firmly as if that would make any difference "Besides... I can't stay here too long, the lord will need to hear that all is calm if not festive here at the village" pointed out Merthyr with haste seeking an excuse to leave.
He went quiet and scouted the room briefly with pursed lips, taking in the surrounding. He was clearly outnumbered and locked up thus it would be futile and foolish to even try to resist or escape. He sighed in defeat and surrendered to be seized and left at these rogues' mercy, if any was to be found. He reluctantly disarmed, taking out his sword and daggers and chucked them at Grum's feet, the expensive hilt alone betraying his wealthy background as he knelt with his hands raised behind the head awaiting the inevitable.
*****
Lwyncelyne and Taff finally reached the militia camp's entrance, weary and tired after the long journey, attracted by the sounds emanating from the scuffle. At first they kept a little distance for fear of bandits but proceeded forward for the king's life was at stake
"The Lord...? Oh good god I forgot to inform him of the bandits," She sighed, dropping her head, "I suppose I should write to him..." Just as she went to pull out the parchment, one of the knight stepped into the room, and informed her of the approaching horse riders. Katja looked to her sloppy appearance and rushed around to secure the rest of her armor, the woman obviously flustered with making sure she looked good in the midst of guests. Or strong, seemed to be a better word.
----
At the same time, one of her knights approached Lwyncelyne and Taff, an elf with dark skin and even darker hair, "Hello there, travelers. I wouldn't suppose you've come from the Lords estate, to speak with Lady Katja?"
---
Marcello would've easily spotted Atoli and the stanger, if he could see. He just heard the noise get louder, "Hey, er...you!! Stop that!" The cambion moved closer, putting a hand out in an attempt to grab someone, though it was definitely anxiety inducuing at the two scents, unfamiliar though slightly recognizable; he could at least identify the harpy, though its species was the only thing he could sniff out; who knew about its nature, its temperment.
It's diet.
He seemed to sweat a little more at the thought of the creature turning and snatching him next. The other one smelled human, but he couldn't be certain if it was too friendly either. And judging on the fight, neither of them were very nice at all, which definitely made him anxious.
---
Drake smirked, "Grum? I bet he named himself, no species would call their kid a name like that." He snorted, shaking his head. Drake's name was obviously human, something he picked out while entering this new kingdom. It had been very long since he had even had to bother remembering his birth name, but maybe it was Eerok? He hardly bothered referring to himself with such a name anymore. And his clan name was long forgotten, abandoned even before he met Katja.
----
At the same time, one of her knights approached Lwyncelyne and Taff, an elf with dark skin and even darker hair, "Hello there, travelers. I wouldn't suppose you've come from the Lords estate, to speak with Lady Katja?"
---
Marcello would've easily spotted Atoli and the stanger, if he could see. He just heard the noise get louder, "Hey, er...you!! Stop that!" The cambion moved closer, putting a hand out in an attempt to grab someone, though it was definitely anxiety inducuing at the two scents, unfamiliar though slightly recognizable; he could at least identify the harpy, though its species was the only thing he could sniff out; who knew about its nature, its temperment.
It's diet.
He seemed to sweat a little more at the thought of the creature turning and snatching him next. The other one smelled human, but he couldn't be certain if it was too friendly either. And judging on the fight, neither of them were very nice at all, which definitely made him anxious.
---
Drake smirked, "Grum? I bet he named himself, no species would call their kid a name like that." He snorted, shaking his head. Drake's name was obviously human, something he picked out while entering this new kingdom. It had been very long since he had even had to bother remembering his birth name, but maybe it was Eerok? He hardly bothered referring to himself with such a name anymore. And his clan name was long forgotten, abandoned even before he met Katja.
(Haha, poor Marcello )
Atoli’s grip on the man’s leg tightened as they fell once more. One wing managed to escape the man’s grasp and flapped instinctively to try to buffer their speed, though it was little help as they hit the ground with a heavy WHUMP. Atoli wheezed as she collided onto her assailant and the forest floor.
As soon as he let go she went to move away and tripped, the talons on one foot caught on his pant leg. She tore her foot away forcefully, not at all minding if his clothes ripped in the process. Atoli struggled to her feet then and sucked in a hissed breath through her teeth, her back stinging sharply. She flapped her wings once to try them… they were sore but unharmed, much to her relief. Though the little harpy seemed to be shedding an array small feathers and downy fluff after their tumble out of the oak tree.
Atoli’s attention was drawn to Marcello when he shouted and drew closer. She flinched away from his hand and snarled before pausing; he had an aura about him that the harpy could sense. She eyed him fully now, giving him a quick once over inspection. His face was pale but cute, and he smelled… good. But different. She could tell he was not fully human, though she didn’t know quite what else he was just yet.
She twitched towards him as if she were going to lunge and carefully watched for a reaction; his red eyes didn’t seem to quite focus on anything. She didn’t intend to attack him, but after being roughly handled and falling out a tree, she was in a poor mood. She looked back to her attacker as he fumbled for his weapon.
Atoli’s grip on the man’s leg tightened as they fell once more. One wing managed to escape the man’s grasp and flapped instinctively to try to buffer their speed, though it was little help as they hit the ground with a heavy WHUMP. Atoli wheezed as she collided onto her assailant and the forest floor.
As soon as he let go she went to move away and tripped, the talons on one foot caught on his pant leg. She tore her foot away forcefully, not at all minding if his clothes ripped in the process. Atoli struggled to her feet then and sucked in a hissed breath through her teeth, her back stinging sharply. She flapped her wings once to try them… they were sore but unharmed, much to her relief. Though the little harpy seemed to be shedding an array small feathers and downy fluff after their tumble out of the oak tree.
Atoli’s attention was drawn to Marcello when he shouted and drew closer. She flinched away from his hand and snarled before pausing; he had an aura about him that the harpy could sense. She eyed him fully now, giving him a quick once over inspection. His face was pale but cute, and he smelled… good. But different. She could tell he was not fully human, though she didn’t know quite what else he was just yet.
She twitched towards him as if she were going to lunge and carefully watched for a reaction; his red eyes didn’t seem to quite focus on anything. She didn’t intend to attack him, but after being roughly handled and falling out a tree, she was in a poor mood. She looked back to her attacker as he fumbled for his weapon.
Tom listened to the answers come in and as they did he turned his face upwards towards Drake with the expectant gaze in his eyes of a young child waiting to get praised for doing a good job. Only for the face to be turned back towards Kerik when he realised that only his first two questions had been answered, the child displaying a look of long-suffering patience. Using tremendous mental force he kept his face calm and his play continued, yet inside his excitement rose: the question he had waited so long to ask was finally going to be answered. "well mister, what did you and ... mister Grum do with all the villagers you killed? Where did you put their bodies?"
At this point, Tom was very pleased with the story those knights in the camp had taken in for it allowed him to ask the question naturally and without suspicion.
(Sorry for delay, lots of things happening)
At this point, Tom was very pleased with the story those knights in the camp had taken in for it allowed him to ask the question naturally and without suspicion.
(Sorry for delay, lots of things happening)
Tara waited and listened while Katja mentioned writing to the lord, perking up with nervousness when word came that riders had just arrived. The similarities between the two warrior women gave her an intuition as to how the knight felt about the news, and she empathized enough to rush around with her and try to assist in getting her armor together; after all, it took less time to don with help. Of course if Katja found the assistance unwanted, the warrior would relent. She was not a member of the camp, after all.
-
The strange man also took note of the approaching cambion; he scrambled harder to retrieve his dagger. He flicked the weapon up but made no immediate move to attack, glowering harshly at the harpy where she was nearby. The man-- or rather, boy-- sported a rather average face, with an unfortunately soft button nose further denoting his youth. He was only a few inches taller than Atoli and wore a brown buffcoat; hard enough to explain why her only purchase on him earlier was his pant-leg. He glanced at Marcello but later noticed the encroaching newcomers, cussing quietly. It was not this fellow's intention to be seen at all, let alone by multiple strangers belonging to different organizations.
-
Kerik quivered; despite the spell, he felt as though his heart were beating entirely too quickly for the rest of his body. Wishing quietly for the gods to grant him at least some alcoholic beverage to relieve his discomfort and pain, the bandit continued. "...I d-don't know for certain, but I think... the dead were buried inside the barn, uh... west of the village. Directly west of the tavern, anyway... I didn't kill anyone, except a guard, I swear."
-
Grum crouched down and took the daggers in each hand while some of his brigands manhandled Merthyr into a chair; he was not yet bound, but the hands on either of his shoulders warned him against noncompliance. The minotaur inspected his weapons, comfortably moving closer and sitting across from him to comment on them, "These are... some of the finest weapons I think I've ever seen. It must have been a fortune to put these babies together...!" The chieftain grinned. "Just who are you, anyway?"
-
The strange man also took note of the approaching cambion; he scrambled harder to retrieve his dagger. He flicked the weapon up but made no immediate move to attack, glowering harshly at the harpy where she was nearby. The man-- or rather, boy-- sported a rather average face, with an unfortunately soft button nose further denoting his youth. He was only a few inches taller than Atoli and wore a brown buffcoat; hard enough to explain why her only purchase on him earlier was his pant-leg. He glanced at Marcello but later noticed the encroaching newcomers, cussing quietly. It was not this fellow's intention to be seen at all, let alone by multiple strangers belonging to different organizations.
-
Kerik quivered; despite the spell, he felt as though his heart were beating entirely too quickly for the rest of his body. Wishing quietly for the gods to grant him at least some alcoholic beverage to relieve his discomfort and pain, the bandit continued. "...I d-don't know for certain, but I think... the dead were buried inside the barn, uh... west of the village. Directly west of the tavern, anyway... I didn't kill anyone, except a guard, I swear."
-
Grum crouched down and took the daggers in each hand while some of his brigands manhandled Merthyr into a chair; he was not yet bound, but the hands on either of his shoulders warned him against noncompliance. The minotaur inspected his weapons, comfortably moving closer and sitting across from him to comment on them, "These are... some of the finest weapons I think I've ever seen. It must have been a fortune to put these babies together...!" The chieftain grinned. "Just who are you, anyway?"
"I just arrived from the castle, from lord Pentre's presence to deliver these parchments to the village as I do every now and then" repeated Merthyr. "I am expected back before sunset to let his lordship know all is well in the village..." repeated as he had just said earlier, not about to resist or make any gesture that could be seen as aggressive
He paused for a long moment of silence, seeing that Grum was clearly well acquainted with weapons. He pursed his lips as he realized Grum was not going to accept his simple explanation because of the expensive weaponry he carried, thus, he partly yielded to the demanded question with a more elaborate answer.
"... depends on who is asking and whose side you're on.... see...I have kept busy relieving some from certain prized possessions...." pointed out Merthyr referring to his thieving career
"I have done some quiet dispatching of certain nuisance lords..." related Merthyr referring to his assassin work
"but most of the time I am terribly occupied under the king's banner doing a lot of loud dispatching of bandits and rogues especially those who dare mingle with magic... forbidden... magic." remarked Merthyr not about to speak specifically about his lordly, commanding position among the knights, let alone the royal part he was conveniently leaving out.
******
Taff looked serious and sober at the elven guard nodding with the head affirmatively.
"I am sent by lord Pentre himself indeed. Now please take me to whoever is in charge of this group, I need to find the militia and I must speak to its leader at once, time is not on our side" nodded Taff speaking with a sense of urgency, discreetly waving his hand to make the armour appear on the horse, where he had concealed it through a spell along their journey, somehow trusting no one had notice because Lwyncelyne was in the way covering the view
He paused for a long moment of silence, seeing that Grum was clearly well acquainted with weapons. He pursed his lips as he realized Grum was not going to accept his simple explanation because of the expensive weaponry he carried, thus, he partly yielded to the demanded question with a more elaborate answer.
"... depends on who is asking and whose side you're on.... see...I have kept busy relieving some from certain prized possessions...." pointed out Merthyr referring to his thieving career
"I have done some quiet dispatching of certain nuisance lords..." related Merthyr referring to his assassin work
"but most of the time I am terribly occupied under the king's banner doing a lot of loud dispatching of bandits and rogues especially those who dare mingle with magic... forbidden... magic." remarked Merthyr not about to speak specifically about his lordly, commanding position among the knights, let alone the royal part he was conveniently leaving out.
******
Taff looked serious and sober at the elven guard nodding with the head affirmatively.
"I am sent by lord Pentre himself indeed. Now please take me to whoever is in charge of this group, I need to find the militia and I must speak to its leader at once, time is not on our side" nodded Taff speaking with a sense of urgency, discreetly waving his hand to make the armour appear on the horse, where he had concealed it through a spell along their journey, somehow trusting no one had notice because Lwyncelyne was in the way covering the view
Katja didn't seem to mind at all, and once she had her full set equipped, she smiled at Tara, obviously a little frazzled, "Ah, thank you, really...I'm not often expecting so many guests at once, there's so much to handle," The woman laughed, though the dark circles under her eyes were more noticeable than they had been when they first met; it was safe to assume she hadn't been sleeping well, or even at all. Still, the woman secured her cape on her shoulders, and went out calmly, gesturing for Tara to follow, "I would prefer it if you came with....so the visitors do not think you suspicious."
Just as the elf was leaving, Katja came into sight. He spoke hurriedly, and upon seeing the armored horse, she broke into a light jog, coming to stand in front of Taff and Lwyncelyne. She bowed deeply to them, "Lady Katja Sauer, Commander of the Knights of the People, at your service. How may I assist you two? My guard said you have come from Lord Pentre, I assume this is about the village?"
---
When Atoli neared, the blind young man stumbled backwards, "I-I'm not afraid to use thi--" He raised his staff up, but managed to trip on the back of his cloak, falling backwards to the ground. His wings spread quickly, defensively wrapping themselves around the young man to shield him from attacks, and he stayed behind them, "I-I mean no harm, please! I-I just followed the scents in the trees, I didn't mean to step into your turf!" His voice was a little higher, and anxious now that the harpy was near him; though he seemed to, in the sense of fight or flight, be more likely to edge near (literal) flight. The cambion held his staff in front of him, staying on the ground; he didn't know how to fight well, his magic was limited to self defense and even then it only went so far.
He could attempt manipulation again, but the cambion didn't dare use it on the harpy; and he knew nothing about the strange human towards the trees, or if they planned on killing him.
---
Drake gave Tom a pleased smile, "Well, good work small one," at least he had stopped using 'shortie' as an appropriate name, "You've certainly proved your usefulness." The orc stood, "I think that's all for now, we should allow the criminal to rest before the execution tomorrow. We have our information."
The doctor grumbled about why he had even bothered to heal Kerik, but Drake headed towards the exit of the tent, glancing at Tom, "Come, human. We should inform Katja of our learnings."
Just as the elf was leaving, Katja came into sight. He spoke hurriedly, and upon seeing the armored horse, she broke into a light jog, coming to stand in front of Taff and Lwyncelyne. She bowed deeply to them, "Lady Katja Sauer, Commander of the Knights of the People, at your service. How may I assist you two? My guard said you have come from Lord Pentre, I assume this is about the village?"
---
When Atoli neared, the blind young man stumbled backwards, "I-I'm not afraid to use thi--" He raised his staff up, but managed to trip on the back of his cloak, falling backwards to the ground. His wings spread quickly, defensively wrapping themselves around the young man to shield him from attacks, and he stayed behind them, "I-I mean no harm, please! I-I just followed the scents in the trees, I didn't mean to step into your turf!" His voice was a little higher, and anxious now that the harpy was near him; though he seemed to, in the sense of fight or flight, be more likely to edge near (literal) flight. The cambion held his staff in front of him, staying on the ground; he didn't know how to fight well, his magic was limited to self defense and even then it only went so far.
He could attempt manipulation again, but the cambion didn't dare use it on the harpy; and he knew nothing about the strange human towards the trees, or if they planned on killing him.
---
Drake gave Tom a pleased smile, "Well, good work small one," at least he had stopped using 'shortie' as an appropriate name, "You've certainly proved your usefulness." The orc stood, "I think that's all for now, we should allow the criminal to rest before the execution tomorrow. We have our information."
The doctor grumbled about why he had even bothered to heal Kerik, but Drake headed towards the exit of the tent, glancing at Tom, "Come, human. We should inform Katja of our learnings."
Atoli blinked, a glimmer of guilt passing over her face as she watched the blind boy fall back. It was clear that he was afraid... Atoli didn't quite know how to handle this odd, good smelling, semi-human creature. When his wings unfurled and made themselves known, she stared at them with great interest. “Ah...uh…” She tore her gaze away to look to the male who initially attacked her in the tree. “He started it…” The harpy muttered, unable to hold back the words.
Atoli oddly felt compelled to offer the blind male a hand up; but she stepped away from him instead. “I have no intentions to harm you…” She looked back to the red haired attacker now and glared, “You on the other hand…” He was clearly the more dangerous one, but she stepped further away to get out from under the tree, wishing to flee.
Atoli oddly felt compelled to offer the blind male a hand up; but she stepped away from him instead. “I have no intentions to harm you…” She looked back to the red haired attacker now and glared, “You on the other hand…” He was clearly the more dangerous one, but she stepped further away to get out from under the tree, wishing to flee.
Tom returned Drakes pleased grin with one of his own, in an odd way he was pleased that he had made the Orc happy. The respect won even though it was just a small amount made the little child swell with pride. The smile however dissipated at the news of an execution, following Drake he tried to position himself in front of the orc. "Mister Orc, can we not spare mister bandit? I ... I know he is bad, but he doesn't deserve to die!"
Slowly but surely Zafira was stirring again, the presence appearing fractionally in Tom's body was he began to call her back to consciousness.
Slowly but surely Zafira was stirring again, the presence appearing fractionally in Tom's body was he began to call her back to consciousness.
The warrior smirked at Katja, not one to usually entertain guests but still feeling she understood how disorienting it could be. Splitting one's attention on multiple equally important matters was no small feat when one was weary and sore from recent battle. When Sauer waved for her to follow she did; if not for the lack of an emblem on her person, it might look as though she were part of the militia already. "Aye."
She was true to her word, jogging closely behind Katja and watching the newcomers closely. Taff was easy to recognize; he was the rider heading toward the mountain earlier. Or at least she suspected that was the case, since his clothes seemed much the same as the rider's. She hadn't seen Lwyncelyne before though, and so by consequence watched her somewhat more closely. The warrior offered a bow of her own, though it was not as deep; she didn't mean any disrespect by it, merely that she was alert and mostly unfamiliar with them.
_
The boy's expression flattened as Marcello slipped and fell. He tilted his head to the side somewhat as the cambion's tune changed, shrugging absently and focusing again on Atoli. "What're you goin' to do, hm? Cover me in feathers?" He pulled himself, somewhat painfully off the ground while staring the harpy down. He leaned forward; it was uncertain as to whether he was planning an attack or just trying to look imposing at her.
_
Kerik's whisker's twitched when he heard of his imminent execution. It was unsurprising but disappointing; without the boy's help, it seemed that he might return as a member of the dead anyway. Regardless of Tom's plans here, it seemed this brigand got the short end of either outcome; and it was much harder for him to accept than the simple, normal death he'd initially expected but it was far too late. Resigned and despairing, he lay back in his cot and awaited the end.
_
Despite his spastic and boisterous nature Grum managed to listen as Merthyr explained himself and made his case. As he went on the minotaur's nostrils flared, his eyes widened so that one might see the whites of them and his lips tugged into what could loosely be considered a malevolent grin. The chieftain set down the weapons on the table, leaning close to Tydfil and sniffing the air.
"What a man. A thief! A killer! Why, he almost sounds like one of us!" Some of the brigands in the room cheered, others laughed and a few made verbal jabs at the new king's expense. "That's what I'm supposed to think, isn't it? Tell me all about how your pragmatism is valuable to me." The minotaur let a brief, fake laugh. Then he slammed massive fists on the table and stood, the whites of his eyes reflecting in the candlelight as he glared angrily down at their captive.
"It is beyond a shadow of a doubt, you think me a fool! I'm tempted to bleed you and make your smart lips fat like one!" He slammed the table again-- somewhere in its framework wood broke, evident in the cracking sound the force caused. "I see through your little scheme, pragmatist. At worst, you're a merchant's son; a snob who thinks he understands pain! At best, you're someone I can ransom and you best hope you are, or I'll flay you alive by the end of this! No rich man willingly takes the role left to the drudges of society!"
Someone in the crowd added, "You rich sods'll forbid bread if you don't happen to like it!"
But another was bold enough to ask something many of the other's didn't want to. "...But what if he isn't? How would we know?" It brought an abrupt silence to the room. Grum grunted in displeasure; no matter what he suspected there was little way of knowing, beyond clues. Calmer now, the chieftain waved a hand, "Take his belongings. Put them on the table; I want to see everything."
She was true to her word, jogging closely behind Katja and watching the newcomers closely. Taff was easy to recognize; he was the rider heading toward the mountain earlier. Or at least she suspected that was the case, since his clothes seemed much the same as the rider's. She hadn't seen Lwyncelyne before though, and so by consequence watched her somewhat more closely. The warrior offered a bow of her own, though it was not as deep; she didn't mean any disrespect by it, merely that she was alert and mostly unfamiliar with them.
_
The boy's expression flattened as Marcello slipped and fell. He tilted his head to the side somewhat as the cambion's tune changed, shrugging absently and focusing again on Atoli. "What're you goin' to do, hm? Cover me in feathers?" He pulled himself, somewhat painfully off the ground while staring the harpy down. He leaned forward; it was uncertain as to whether he was planning an attack or just trying to look imposing at her.
_
Kerik's whisker's twitched when he heard of his imminent execution. It was unsurprising but disappointing; without the boy's help, it seemed that he might return as a member of the dead anyway. Regardless of Tom's plans here, it seemed this brigand got the short end of either outcome; and it was much harder for him to accept than the simple, normal death he'd initially expected but it was far too late. Resigned and despairing, he lay back in his cot and awaited the end.
_
Despite his spastic and boisterous nature Grum managed to listen as Merthyr explained himself and made his case. As he went on the minotaur's nostrils flared, his eyes widened so that one might see the whites of them and his lips tugged into what could loosely be considered a malevolent grin. The chieftain set down the weapons on the table, leaning close to Tydfil and sniffing the air.
"What a man. A thief! A killer! Why, he almost sounds like one of us!" Some of the brigands in the room cheered, others laughed and a few made verbal jabs at the new king's expense. "That's what I'm supposed to think, isn't it? Tell me all about how your pragmatism is valuable to me." The minotaur let a brief, fake laugh. Then he slammed massive fists on the table and stood, the whites of his eyes reflecting in the candlelight as he glared angrily down at their captive.
"It is beyond a shadow of a doubt, you think me a fool! I'm tempted to bleed you and make your smart lips fat like one!" He slammed the table again-- somewhere in its framework wood broke, evident in the cracking sound the force caused. "I see through your little scheme, pragmatist. At worst, you're a merchant's son; a snob who thinks he understands pain! At best, you're someone I can ransom and you best hope you are, or I'll flay you alive by the end of this! No rich man willingly takes the role left to the drudges of society!"
Someone in the crowd added, "You rich sods'll forbid bread if you don't happen to like it!"
But another was bold enough to ask something many of the other's didn't want to. "...But what if he isn't? How would we know?" It brought an abrupt silence to the room. Grum grunted in displeasure; no matter what he suspected there was little way of knowing, beyond clues. Calmer now, the chieftain waved a hand, "Take his belongings. Put them on the table; I want to see everything."
Taff raised a puzzled eyebrow at her words "the... village?...there are no dire news reported from any village in need of help. Though by all means with bandits plaguing the lands one can never be too careful to protect these peasants from harm" rectified Taff to reassure her it was perfectly acceptable to worry about villages reveealing the fact that lord Pentre had not yet been made aware of the raid which would explain the lack of reinforcements. He paused for a moment to take a deeper breath before delivering his message with a more sober look.
"I am Taff, the royal manservant, sent here on behalf of lord Pentre to locate the militia because he already sent king Merthyr Tydfil into your care and custody earlier, unaccompanied, under the guise of an errand boy, delivering a parcel along with the clear order to put himself directly under your command till further notice. Lord Pentre expected that you would prove your worth to his majesty by demonstrating your skills first hand as a warrior and leader so he accepts that women can become royal knights of the realm too. Furthermore, he ought to be taught that magic can be used for healing, persuading him to ease off on the current ban. This latter quest, a much more delicate matter, since our laws strictly forbid the use of magic under penalty of death." recited Taff as he had been instructed to tell, growing uncomfortably tense at the fresh reminder his own well concealed powers warranted his death too, the only protection so far being the fact no one else knew because no one else with magic lived at the royal palace, mingling nobility as he did, besides Lwyncelyne who stayed in Aftbide fortress anyways.
"My lady, the knights are growing restless awaiting orders from him. The nobles expect word to end the mourning and start celebrating his new reign. Has his majesty been informed of king Conrad's death? Is he still sheltered here among you?" asked Taff holding his breath for confirmation the royal was there
****************
Merthyr frowned at the new command as his priceless possessions were taken out of his travel bag and scattered on the table. He made no gesture that could show any defiance, besides gripping the armchair tensely to show his discomfort. Among the items he carried, there was his lavish outfit, to return with after his wandering; there was the large royal chain with a crown-shaped pendant at its end which appeared in all his official protraits, even the one prominently displayed at the tavern wall to further mortify him; There was his chunky ring which he used as royal seal to stamp the red hot wax on royal decrees and warrants. There was his medallion that identified him as the lord knight which he carried in case he needed the knights assistance or to get himself out of the dungeons if he was ever caught. All these concealed items had now been laid down, one by one, for all to see, along with a large amount of gold, and worse of all, his personal journal too. At this, Merthyr cringed.
The richly brown leather-bound book with golden lettering clearly stated his name and royal title on the cover. It was a diary intended for personal use only, in it he had written brief notes about the king's ill health and imminent death, the odd encounters written there revealed he indeed was leading a very varied lifestyle, highborn and lowborn alike; more worryingly it mentioned his manservant Taff, his cousin Tron Pentre, and random facts that caught his attention, like the militia called Knights of the People, the fact it existed, or that they snatched prisoners just before execution, it seemed as though at times they applied the law and at times defied it.
At this point Merthyr felt he was being stripped of all privacy. He wanted to protest anyone reading his notebook at all, but for now he would have to yield and let them feast their eyes. If he needed to barter for it compliance was a must. He looked on silently, having nothing further to say any more, as the overwhelming evidence spoke for itself. If he thought things were bad after entering the village tavern, right now they got a whole lot worse
"I am Taff, the royal manservant, sent here on behalf of lord Pentre to locate the militia because he already sent king Merthyr Tydfil into your care and custody earlier, unaccompanied, under the guise of an errand boy, delivering a parcel along with the clear order to put himself directly under your command till further notice. Lord Pentre expected that you would prove your worth to his majesty by demonstrating your skills first hand as a warrior and leader so he accepts that women can become royal knights of the realm too. Furthermore, he ought to be taught that magic can be used for healing, persuading him to ease off on the current ban. This latter quest, a much more delicate matter, since our laws strictly forbid the use of magic under penalty of death." recited Taff as he had been instructed to tell, growing uncomfortably tense at the fresh reminder his own well concealed powers warranted his death too, the only protection so far being the fact no one else knew because no one else with magic lived at the royal palace, mingling nobility as he did, besides Lwyncelyne who stayed in Aftbide fortress anyways.
"My lady, the knights are growing restless awaiting orders from him. The nobles expect word to end the mourning and start celebrating his new reign. Has his majesty been informed of king Conrad's death? Is he still sheltered here among you?" asked Taff holding his breath for confirmation the royal was there
****************
Merthyr frowned at the new command as his priceless possessions were taken out of his travel bag and scattered on the table. He made no gesture that could show any defiance, besides gripping the armchair tensely to show his discomfort. Among the items he carried, there was his lavish outfit, to return with after his wandering; there was the large royal chain with a crown-shaped pendant at its end which appeared in all his official protraits, even the one prominently displayed at the tavern wall to further mortify him; There was his chunky ring which he used as royal seal to stamp the red hot wax on royal decrees and warrants. There was his medallion that identified him as the lord knight which he carried in case he needed the knights assistance or to get himself out of the dungeons if he was ever caught. All these concealed items had now been laid down, one by one, for all to see, along with a large amount of gold, and worse of all, his personal journal too. At this, Merthyr cringed.
The richly brown leather-bound book with golden lettering clearly stated his name and royal title on the cover. It was a diary intended for personal use only, in it he had written brief notes about the king's ill health and imminent death, the odd encounters written there revealed he indeed was leading a very varied lifestyle, highborn and lowborn alike; more worryingly it mentioned his manservant Taff, his cousin Tron Pentre, and random facts that caught his attention, like the militia called Knights of the People, the fact it existed, or that they snatched prisoners just before execution, it seemed as though at times they applied the law and at times defied it.
At this point Merthyr felt he was being stripped of all privacy. He wanted to protest anyone reading his notebook at all, but for now he would have to yield and let them feast their eyes. If he needed to barter for it compliance was a must. He looked on silently, having nothing further to say any more, as the overwhelming evidence spoke for itself. If he thought things were bad after entering the village tavern, right now they got a whole lot worse
"I was held up for a few days in the village; it seems to have been overrun with bandits, a particularly ferocious band of them at that...I was unable to inform the Lord of the update, as we narrowly managed to escape; we came across this woman, Lady Tara, as well as a blind half-demon, a rare one at that." She paused for a moment, realizing Taff had just kept speaking, "Well...the man delivering papers left, I believe. He didn't come near the camp; he had run into Lady Tara and Marcello outside the circle...Did he say where he was headed?" She glanced to Tara, looking seriously anxious now that he had mentioned the stranger had been of royal blood. This was not a good situation for her, "H-He isn't here....we should amass a search party, I had not known of the King's death...."
---
"He dies, little one." Drake frowned, "Even if he somehow redeemed himself, a rat like him would out the camp in seconds. Some men cannot be saved, child. Out. Of. The. Tent." His last words were a growl, as if Tom was pressing on nerves.
---
"Please don't fight her...let's all just work this out, yes?" Marcello's voice was...strange now. Calm, soothing; though the power in it was shaky, and he certainly hadn't used his manipulation in years, the half-demon was attempting manipulation on the stranger. It was difficult for him to calm his voice down enough, and with the way it shook the spell would waver in and out; incubi and succubi had that ability, to lure victims in with their voices. He unfurled his wings as he stood, "We all n-need to calm down, you two really shouldn't fight with these Knights so close by..." The leathery, black wings folded beneath his cloak again, though they were most definitely visible this time.
He could feel the strange presence again, near the camp, and his tail twitched a bit; it shifted closer to his leg, sweeping the ground as if feeling for things close that he might trip over again.
---
"He dies, little one." Drake frowned, "Even if he somehow redeemed himself, a rat like him would out the camp in seconds. Some men cannot be saved, child. Out. Of. The. Tent." His last words were a growl, as if Tom was pressing on nerves.
---
"Please don't fight her...let's all just work this out, yes?" Marcello's voice was...strange now. Calm, soothing; though the power in it was shaky, and he certainly hadn't used his manipulation in years, the half-demon was attempting manipulation on the stranger. It was difficult for him to calm his voice down enough, and with the way it shook the spell would waver in and out; incubi and succubi had that ability, to lure victims in with their voices. He unfurled his wings as he stood, "We all n-need to calm down, you two really shouldn't fight with these Knights so close by..." The leathery, black wings folded beneath his cloak again, though they were most definitely visible this time.
He could feel the strange presence again, near the camp, and his tail twitched a bit; it shifted closer to his leg, sweeping the ground as if feeling for things close that he might trip over again.
Atoli fluffed further in indignation; she surmised that he couldn’t be much older than her, if not younger, judging by his short stature and features. “Come closer and I’ll show you what I’ll do.” The harpy snapped back. She ignored the slow trickle of blood that began to seep through the feathers on her back and stood taller; fanning her wings lightly in preparation.
She glanced to Marcello for a moment before ignoring his odd, calmed pleas; returning a taunt of her own to Tye. “And what are you gonna do, little boy? Throw a tantrum and start swinging that little knife around? Better run home to your Ma before more trouble finds you.”
Atoli began to flap her wings in earnest now, no longer wanting to stay if Knights were indeed nearby. She paused for a moment and spoke to the odd blind one on the ground, not quite sure why she wished to, “Oi half-breed, I suggest you part ways with that camp of soldiers and get out of here. You never know when bandits will come raiding...from one monster to another.” At that, Atoli started to scamper away to get a more speedy takeoff.
She glanced to Marcello for a moment before ignoring his odd, calmed pleas; returning a taunt of her own to Tye. “And what are you gonna do, little boy? Throw a tantrum and start swinging that little knife around? Better run home to your Ma before more trouble finds you.”
Atoli began to flap her wings in earnest now, no longer wanting to stay if Knights were indeed nearby. She paused for a moment and spoke to the odd blind one on the ground, not quite sure why she wished to, “Oi half-breed, I suggest you part ways with that camp of soldiers and get out of here. You never know when bandits will come raiding...from one monster to another.” At that, Atoli started to scamper away to get a more speedy takeoff.
A flash of rebellion passed over the child's face as he was told that nothing he could do that would save the bandit from execution, yet it dissipated as quickly as it had arrived. Turning his eyes downwards he nodded, not wishing to meet the Orcs irritated glare as it was directed at him. "Yes, Mister Orc. I'll be going to play on the edge of the camp now."
Inside the presence was building back up to full strength, warming Tom with the familiarity, for he had felt empty without Zafira.
"Welcome back" He greeted her.
"Thank you." The voice that returned back was warm and friendly.
Inside the presence was building back up to full strength, warming Tom with the familiarity, for he had felt empty without Zafira.
"Welcome back" He greeted her.
"Thank you." The voice that returned back was warm and friendly.
Though earlier circumstances had mildly worried the warrior, she thought that, all-in-all, this day was going pretty well. At least, that's how she felt upon initially meeting the two from the castle. As he and Katja conversed, though, Tara's face started to pale. With the information provided it was not hard for her to put together just what had happened, what she'd done. In worrying about Marcello's safety in a forest potentially filled with bandits, she carelessly let the new king of their country stray into the wilds, possibly into the very den of villains she'd just escaped from. Oh gods, he was going to that village earlier, wasn't he?
It was impossible to keep a straight face; the woman found it all so clumsy as to blame herself for this potentially fatal misstep; her eyes wide as saucers, she looked as though she'd seen a ghost. "...Oh no. He went down the road to Aftbide." She placed her hands on the sides of her face and couldn't help but turn and walk away, quickly, back to her tent to don the rest of her armor. The crisis must be diverted, or amends made! Many, many amends.
_
It was easy for the harpy to resist the spell that Marcello wove, but much harder for Tye to. An expression reflecting fiery rage at the harpy softened to a relaxed, curious one as he seemed to actually regard the cambion for the first time. Though he knew of the man's mixed blood, it seemed his spell worked so well that he didn't even react to Atoli's taunt and subsequent retreat like he wanted to. After all, it wasn't really his fight, was it?
He managed a glance in Atoli's direction once she'd already made some distance but didn't seem to believe he could catch up with her; he straightened his back and watched her go. He let the faintest, careless little cuss in defeat before looking back at the blind man. "...Wait, what? Oh. Y' distracted me; she was probably one o' them bandits, and you let 'er go. Should be ashamed."
_
Kerik felt little reason to snap out of his surprising bout of self-reflection, and so continued wallowing in despair. He wondered if it wouldn't have been better for him to continue joking toward Drake before the deal was made.
_
Grum watched as his outlaws lay Merthyr's belongings on the table; one of them moved to pocket some of the gold and was abruptly cuffed for it; the minotaur tore the bag from his hands and laid it neatly beside the king's journal. He didn't need to look at the symbols on his pendant and ring twice to know what was afoot here; the revelation brought an even bigger grin to the chieftain's face. "Oh... oh my." It was perhaps the first time any of the bandits heard Grum sounding genuinely pleased. "You're a prince..? Do you know what this means, men? We don't need to stay in this freezing pit anymore...! With the ransom this brat's worth, we'll be wealthy for the rest of our lives!"
In response many of the bandits cheered, alcohol spilling on the creaky wooden floor; the boom of their collective voices shook the tavern. A few kept their sense, quiet and contemplative; this turn of events was both opportunistic and extremely dangerous, for if they failed to secure their own position in the village against their imminent foes they could be slaughtered for treason. Grum was hardly concerned; he grabbed the royal symbols, coin and Tydfil's journal from the table, a sparkle still in his eye as he commanded two brigands to take the king to the local jail. He had many questions for the nobleman, hoping to find answers from him and his book.
It was impossible to keep a straight face; the woman found it all so clumsy as to blame herself for this potentially fatal misstep; her eyes wide as saucers, she looked as though she'd seen a ghost. "...Oh no. He went down the road to Aftbide." She placed her hands on the sides of her face and couldn't help but turn and walk away, quickly, back to her tent to don the rest of her armor. The crisis must be diverted, or amends made! Many, many amends.
_
It was easy for the harpy to resist the spell that Marcello wove, but much harder for Tye to. An expression reflecting fiery rage at the harpy softened to a relaxed, curious one as he seemed to actually regard the cambion for the first time. Though he knew of the man's mixed blood, it seemed his spell worked so well that he didn't even react to Atoli's taunt and subsequent retreat like he wanted to. After all, it wasn't really his fight, was it?
He managed a glance in Atoli's direction once she'd already made some distance but didn't seem to believe he could catch up with her; he straightened his back and watched her go. He let the faintest, careless little cuss in defeat before looking back at the blind man. "...Wait, what? Oh. Y' distracted me; she was probably one o' them bandits, and you let 'er go. Should be ashamed."
_
Kerik felt little reason to snap out of his surprising bout of self-reflection, and so continued wallowing in despair. He wondered if it wouldn't have been better for him to continue joking toward Drake before the deal was made.
_
Grum watched as his outlaws lay Merthyr's belongings on the table; one of them moved to pocket some of the gold and was abruptly cuffed for it; the minotaur tore the bag from his hands and laid it neatly beside the king's journal. He didn't need to look at the symbols on his pendant and ring twice to know what was afoot here; the revelation brought an even bigger grin to the chieftain's face. "Oh... oh my." It was perhaps the first time any of the bandits heard Grum sounding genuinely pleased. "You're a prince..? Do you know what this means, men? We don't need to stay in this freezing pit anymore...! With the ransom this brat's worth, we'll be wealthy for the rest of our lives!"
In response many of the bandits cheered, alcohol spilling on the creaky wooden floor; the boom of their collective voices shook the tavern. A few kept their sense, quiet and contemplative; this turn of events was both opportunistic and extremely dangerous, for if they failed to secure their own position in the village against their imminent foes they could be slaughtered for treason. Grum was hardly concerned; he grabbed the royal symbols, coin and Tydfil's journal from the table, a sparkle still in his eye as he commanded two brigands to take the king to the local jail. He had many questions for the nobleman, hoping to find answers from him and his book.
Now that the memorized message had been delivered, Taff took a deep breath and relaxed a little, growing restless again as he was notified that the king was not there at all and he would have to venture out into unknown dangers to find him. He looked outside and shuddered merely at the thought of it. "Listen, my lady, I need help to find his majesty... I'm just a castle servant, you know... a cowardly one who can't fight or knows how to... I deliver messages, sharpen weapons, polish armour, but not wear it or use it... that's only for the highborn like you" tried to explain fidgetting with his fingers in front of these warriors which would explain why the white stallion had the finest weaponry still attached to it, untouched.
---
"Typical royal... tell him a woman is in charge and he walks away... hope you ladies capture him and teach him a lesson or two..." muttered Lwyncelyne under her breath clearly displeased at finding out that Merthyr had not joined the militia as told. She pursed her lips at Taff's frown, well aware such words were borderline treason to dare speak against the king's decision in such manner and coughed lightly to introduce herself properly "I am lady Lwyncelyne Baltaine, I am the royal healer, I can help in the journey to treat the wounded if needed be" offered the woman happy to provide her services .
*****
Merthyr was very tempted to grab his chair quickly and use it as a hard batton to strike Grum in the back of the head with his full force, enough of it to knock him to the ground now that he had just turned around. The unexpected impact would make him spill the items and it was a matter of quick reaction to snatch his diary and cast it into the already burning fire place. He knew he had the skill to do that, the strong inclination and temptation to do that and more than enough training to ensure the move would be a successful one. to do... or not to do... considered Merthyr waging the risks.
He certainly would have preferred the reprimand that would follow than let Grum grasp the knowledge the book would provide him. But he had to think of the greater good of the kingdom, at this point his safety was paramount, not his personal preferences. His only consolation the fact that the book had some narrative highlighting random events and not a full and accurate daily account of everything in greater detail. It still had too much to tell at this point.
Contrast to his friendly and talktive arrival, Merthyr remained silent throughout without a further word said. He acted against his better judgment by letting Grum keep the stolen items and let himself be roughly manhandled by the thugs to be taken to his newly appointed location. With torture clearly on the cards and dreading it already, the situation required all the greater compliance from his part, at least for now. The town would definitely be in a festive mood but for all the wrong reasons. He sported a mortified look as he passed his own portray, a far cry to his current dire position, but followed on, not at all looking forward to what Grum might have in store.
---
"Typical royal... tell him a woman is in charge and he walks away... hope you ladies capture him and teach him a lesson or two..." muttered Lwyncelyne under her breath clearly displeased at finding out that Merthyr had not joined the militia as told. She pursed her lips at Taff's frown, well aware such words were borderline treason to dare speak against the king's decision in such manner and coughed lightly to introduce herself properly "I am lady Lwyncelyne Baltaine, I am the royal healer, I can help in the journey to treat the wounded if needed be" offered the woman happy to provide her services .
*****
Merthyr was very tempted to grab his chair quickly and use it as a hard batton to strike Grum in the back of the head with his full force, enough of it to knock him to the ground now that he had just turned around. The unexpected impact would make him spill the items and it was a matter of quick reaction to snatch his diary and cast it into the already burning fire place. He knew he had the skill to do that, the strong inclination and temptation to do that and more than enough training to ensure the move would be a successful one. to do... or not to do... considered Merthyr waging the risks.
He certainly would have preferred the reprimand that would follow than let Grum grasp the knowledge the book would provide him. But he had to think of the greater good of the kingdom, at this point his safety was paramount, not his personal preferences. His only consolation the fact that the book had some narrative highlighting random events and not a full and accurate daily account of everything in greater detail. It still had too much to tell at this point.
Contrast to his friendly and talktive arrival, Merthyr remained silent throughout without a further word said. He acted against his better judgment by letting Grum keep the stolen items and let himself be roughly manhandled by the thugs to be taken to his newly appointed location. With torture clearly on the cards and dreading it already, the situation required all the greater compliance from his part, at least for now. The town would definitely be in a festive mood but for all the wrong reasons. He sported a mortified look as he passed his own portray, a far cry to his current dire position, but followed on, not at all looking forward to what Grum might have in store.
"Everyone, on your feet!" Katja bellowed before Taff had even begun; once Tara said he had been going towards Aftbide, she knew what needed to be done, "We move in as a whole unit in ten! Armor up!" The woman had a loud, stern voice, and she turned to Taff and Lwyncelyne, "I would very much prefer the two of you remain here at camp. Our healers are more than capable of taking care of our injuries, and I would very much regret putting more royal lives in harms way. We have a blind demon here, he's quite friendly, but he's albino. He's going to need protection throughout this event, as his kind are often hunted for their limbs and organs. There's also a young child here, who's parents were killed during the raid on Aftbide. We need someone to watch over him, he's very daring it seems. Now if you'll excuse me, I must get ready. We haven't much time."
She broke out into a run towards her tent, to secure the rest of her armor and weapons. This whole ordeal was going to have Katja taking a LONG break from fighting.
---
When Drake heard Katja's call, he smirked a bit and looked down to Tom, "Little one, I think your friend might just have a chance."
He turned back into the tent, walking up to Kerik's cot and kneeling down beside him with a cruel smirk, "Hey scoundrel. I'm giving you the chance to fight for your life, yes? Just like you Bandits do all the time. It seems Katja's moving our counterattack to now, so if you manage to survive, we'll let you go. Doesn't that sound fair?"
---
The demon was now silent, staring up towards the sky. One monster to another, hm? He didn't like to think of himself as a monster... that brought the idea of his mother to his head. That woman was a monster. Him? He felt like he just...appeared to be one.
He could feel that strange demon now, but he felt as if Tye was more pressing currently. Turning to him, he cocked his head a bit, as if confused, "Ashamed? I didn't let her go. I never had her. It was your fight, and you just stood there gazing off at nothing." Marcello was playing stupid, as if he didn't know he used that spell, "You're the one that should be ashamed, small human. How were you distracted by a blind man? Unless you happen to be gay, most men don't get lost gazing at an incubus, or even a male cambion."
She broke out into a run towards her tent, to secure the rest of her armor and weapons. This whole ordeal was going to have Katja taking a LONG break from fighting.
---
When Drake heard Katja's call, he smirked a bit and looked down to Tom, "Little one, I think your friend might just have a chance."
He turned back into the tent, walking up to Kerik's cot and kneeling down beside him with a cruel smirk, "Hey scoundrel. I'm giving you the chance to fight for your life, yes? Just like you Bandits do all the time. It seems Katja's moving our counterattack to now, so if you manage to survive, we'll let you go. Doesn't that sound fair?"
---
The demon was now silent, staring up towards the sky. One monster to another, hm? He didn't like to think of himself as a monster... that brought the idea of his mother to his head. That woman was a monster. Him? He felt like he just...appeared to be one.
He could feel that strange demon now, but he felt as if Tye was more pressing currently. Turning to him, he cocked his head a bit, as if confused, "Ashamed? I didn't let her go. I never had her. It was your fight, and you just stood there gazing off at nothing." Marcello was playing stupid, as if he didn't know he used that spell, "You're the one that should be ashamed, small human. How were you distracted by a blind man? Unless you happen to be gay, most men don't get lost gazing at an incubus, or even a male cambion."
Atoli quickly took to the air and soared over the forest, her wings pumping up in down to further her speed. The camp was found! Now to tell Grum the news. After a few minutes of quick flying, the village of Aftbide came into view and the harpy soared down towards the tavern; She landed rather heavily in front of it and ran to the door, panting from her effort.
She shoved open the large wooden door and crowed out a shout before even looking inside the tavernl forgetting to use the chieftain’s title, “Oi! Grum! I found the camp--!” She paused as she saw the commotion that the bandits were making. Why were they celebrating? Her eyes flitted from Grum to the other man that many others had their attention on and frowned; The man didn’t look familiar to her, he didn’t look like one of Grum’s henchmen either.
She walked in further and combed her clawed hands through the feathers of her wings on her other arm, looking a little pensive. “What’s going on?”
She shoved open the large wooden door and crowed out a shout before even looking inside the tavernl forgetting to use the chieftain’s title, “Oi! Grum! I found the camp--!” She paused as she saw the commotion that the bandits were making. Why were they celebrating? Her eyes flitted from Grum to the other man that many others had their attention on and frowned; The man didn’t look familiar to her, he didn’t look like one of Grum’s henchmen either.
She walked in further and combed her clawed hands through the feathers of her wings on her other arm, looking a little pensive. “What’s going on?”
As he watched Drake turn and move back into the tent towards Kerik and away from him, he finally let the sweet and innocent face he had been wearing for so long melt away. Replacing it was a face which resembled someone far older than the simple ten-year-old child, it was one that had seen far too many things for just the short life that it had visually been alive.
"What now?"
"I got all the information we need to know, but you already know that. So how about revealing ourselves?"
"If you wish, then let's do this."
With that agreed the two dropped any barriers allowing their presence to spread, creating their natural aura of dread and terror in the air directly around them while doing so. While they knew it might make anyone more likely to attack it was also something they could not control, the same going for the seemingly sickly green tendrils which would appear to grow and swirl around their body.
"What now?"
"I got all the information we need to know, but you already know that. So how about revealing ourselves?"
"If you wish, then let's do this."
With that agreed the two dropped any barriers allowing their presence to spread, creating their natural aura of dread and terror in the air directly around them while doing so. While they knew it might make anyone more likely to attack it was also something they could not control, the same going for the seemingly sickly green tendrils which would appear to grow and swirl around their body.
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