"How dare you compare such countless crimes with honest hard work?!" scolded Pentre right away
"Pride in your work.... you won't be saying that with such arrogance when I string you up by the neck over said work" taunted Pentre clearly unhappy at her statement
"Besides, it is lord knight Pentre to the likes of you... commoner" scoffed Pentre at Iskra given her simple mention of his name, stripped of all titles which belittled him in his own opinion.
"Your majesty... I strongly request that you reconsider your offering.... women in general have no place in the army, they belong to the kitchens and the bed chambers... perhaps at the healing houses at best, not among knights of the royal army... never mind in charge of them all" pointed out Pentre in a reasonable tone
"It goes against our well established traditions and may bring unrest among the nobles and lords, especially outlaws of her infamous disrepute. Having her lead our forces somewhat tarnishes our otherwise impeccable reputation... who is to say she will not command us to raid villages and cities and castles for her own benefit?" noted Pentre glaring at Iskra, narrow eyed in distrust
Merthyr took a deep breath listening to his lord knight's well made points but shook his head on the matter
"On this occasion, cousin, you will have to yield to my demands. I need her services until Taff is found. With her reward she can acquire a portion of our realm and boundaries will be set to keep them away from the rest of us, they shall be a law unto themselves and if they trespass and commit crimes they will be persecuted and punished accordingly" muttered Merthyr
"But right now, my priority is finding a helpless friend, my manservant, who is out there enduring who knows which horrors" murmured Merthyr rubbing his forehead in distress at the thought of it. "For all I know he could be dead and buried already, please, do not stall her task unduly over perceived dishonor" requested Merthyr in a steady voice which reflected his worry
Atoli frowned. She did indeed sense that something wasn’t right in the region. “So you’re going to go hunt it down alone, injured, and in this freezing cold? Hmm…” She eyed Katja, seeming to consider whacking her over the head after all; it would likely be a simple thing to do in the woman’s state. She wondered how a woman like this survived for so long.
“And what’re you going to do when you find the source? Do you even have any weapons?” Atoli paused for a moment, looking hard at the woman. “Can’t you just go back to the town and command backup to aide you? You are the leader after all, right? Besides Horse-face, of course.” She recalled, thinking back to Merthyr. Atoli didn’t care much if the woman wanted to go marching off into the wilds after ‘foul sense’, so long as she went back to the town first and Atoli got her due rewards.
Suddenly the harpy jumped; a truth striking her thoughts. “The Prince came to me and told me to find those that are important to him. He ORDERS you to come back.” She chirped, confident. “You’re an honorable knight that abides by the command of the Crowned Prince, are you not?”
One way or another, Atoli was determined to get her way. She folded her arms in front of her briefly as a gust blew, sending a flurry of light snow her way. Her feathers fluffed considerably to keep her warm and she tucked her chin into her neck fluff, but her eyes were on Katja's, serious.
“And what’re you going to do when you find the source? Do you even have any weapons?” Atoli paused for a moment, looking hard at the woman. “Can’t you just go back to the town and command backup to aide you? You are the leader after all, right? Besides Horse-face, of course.” She recalled, thinking back to Merthyr. Atoli didn’t care much if the woman wanted to go marching off into the wilds after ‘foul sense’, so long as she went back to the town first and Atoli got her due rewards.
Suddenly the harpy jumped; a truth striking her thoughts. “The Prince came to me and told me to find those that are important to him. He ORDERS you to come back.” She chirped, confident. “You’re an honorable knight that abides by the command of the Crowned Prince, are you not?”
One way or another, Atoli was determined to get her way. She folded her arms in front of her briefly as a gust blew, sending a flurry of light snow her way. Her feathers fluffed considerably to keep her warm and she tucked her chin into her neck fluff, but her eyes were on Katja's, serious.
Pentre took a deep breath, gritted his teeth and clenched his fists, clearly struggling with accepting his new appointed commander but, after a short time, he yielded all the same, after all, royal orders were royal orders.
"Very well, your majesty, it shall be done as you command" accepted Pentre taking out his sword from the scabbard and stabbing the ground with it, dropping a knee before Iskra and lowering his head
"Your ladyship... as the king's ambassador... I offer you myself, my sword, my services for you to command as you see fit." recited Pentre raising up and looking at her
Merthyr stood up satisfied with the reaction and left the pair to sort themselves and others out, coming to the worktop for yet another stiff drink.
Pentre waited until the king had moved away, out of hearing range, and addressed Iskra in a lower voice, the smile on his face in clear contrast to his words of warning
"Whilst you enjoy this exceedingly rare authority over me... try not bruise my honour and reputation too much... missy... whilst I will obey your every wish, whim and command, I shall certainly keep tally of every humiliation and demeaning task you appoint me and... after the servant is found or your bounty is reduced to nothing, whichever happens first... I shall have my revenge... ten fold, best you tread carefully" warned Pentre sheathing his sword, hand resting on its hilt.
"Now then, what will your orders be, your ladyship?" asked Pentre louder as if he had said nothing of importance.
"Very well, your majesty, it shall be done as you command" accepted Pentre taking out his sword from the scabbard and stabbing the ground with it, dropping a knee before Iskra and lowering his head
"Your ladyship... as the king's ambassador... I offer you myself, my sword, my services for you to command as you see fit." recited Pentre raising up and looking at her
Merthyr stood up satisfied with the reaction and left the pair to sort themselves and others out, coming to the worktop for yet another stiff drink.
Pentre waited until the king had moved away, out of hearing range, and addressed Iskra in a lower voice, the smile on his face in clear contrast to his words of warning
"Whilst you enjoy this exceedingly rare authority over me... try not bruise my honour and reputation too much... missy... whilst I will obey your every wish, whim and command, I shall certainly keep tally of every humiliation and demeaning task you appoint me and... after the servant is found or your bounty is reduced to nothing, whichever happens first... I shall have my revenge... ten fold, best you tread carefully" warned Pentre sheathing his sword, hand resting on its hilt.
"Now then, what will your orders be, your ladyship?" asked Pentre louder as if he had said nothing of importance.
Pentre's attempted retaliation drew an irked stare from beneath the knight's helmet. Subconsciously she tapped the pommel of her blade, watching the two men exchange words. To her it was no surprise tha Pentre would make such a claim but it didn't help to settle her nerves after the chase. Then, as the lord stood down she did similarly, though she kept an eye on him, mistrusting him somewhat more than she did Iskra.
Then she sighed as the proud lord returned to speak again. Too far away to hear the exact words, Tara knew regardless it had to be underhanded due to how quietly he spoke them. She looked to Iskra once he was done, similarly curious on their course of action; after all, Merthyr had appointed the bandit king her superior.
((Just dropping this in for now, will post more later.))
Then she sighed as the proud lord returned to speak again. Too far away to hear the exact words, Tara knew regardless it had to be underhanded due to how quietly he spoke them. She looked to Iskra once he was done, similarly curious on their course of action; after all, Merthyr had appointed the bandit king her superior.
((Just dropping this in for now, will post more later.))
Iskra’s smirk was far too pleased during his whole exchange, and the woman reached forward, and with a surprisingly harsh motion, smacked Pentre. Her whole face lit up with pride; Iskra had probably spent a good bit of her life waiting to do that, and judging on the laugh that escaped her, it had been worth it.
“Better start counting.” She mused, before thinking back on his question. “Vell I suppose I need to head up to my hideout. I didn’t bring any of my veapons or armor, as I didn’t anticipate being troubled vith zhis task...I could send a messenger bird but zhat might take too long...” Iskra hadn’t lead such a large force before, much less for a cause as... honorable as this. Half the time the extent of her leadership covered relations and movement, and of course dealing out punishment, which she was well known for. This would be quite the challenge.
“But...given fact ve are only searching for Katja and...other two, I shouldn’t need my armor...” she rubbed her chin, “Atoli took my cloak for Katja if she located her...but zhis cold is nozhing really. My bandits should arrive any minute now, zhanks to one who exposed me.” She seemed a little less than pleased at recalling that memory, but the woman drummed her fingers in the table anyways, before tugging her dagger from its surface, “I suppose ve should let ozher groups know. Katja’s men vill have little trouble following my orders but I imagine yours,” she regarded Pentre with a small wave, “Vill certainly have their...” Iskra paused for a moment, thinking, “...opinions. And Grum’s, I vill have to beat sense into. Vhich is not truly issue.”
—————————
“M’Lady, im afraid you overestimate me. As you can tell, I’m a woman.” Katja gestures to herself, watching Atoli, “Women are not allowed to be Knighted. I have been in this field for so long, however, most refer to us as Knights out of convenience.”
“Truthfully, there is no honor binding me to obey the words of the royal family. And had the King wanted, my men and I could’ve been hunted and arrested for treason, with a militia of our size.” She rubbed her horse absentmindedly, watching it snort and nose around the snow near its legs, “it is only because of our good judgement and morals that we remain in his good graces. I have gone against Royal Knights before and nearly lost my head for it.”
Katja seemed to think back on something; it seemed the Knight had done a bit of dirty work herself, though what exactly that entailed was unclear. But if the Prince was demanding her presence, then her only course of action could be to return. Perhaps her healer could do so minor checks over her as well, to make sure she wasn’t dying. As if to emphasis this need, the woman’s face flushed, and she pressed her head into the mane of her horse again, to brace herself against the hot flash that overcame her body.
“Y-Yet I suppose it is only respectful t-that I return. Unless I really d-do want to lose my head.” She straightened up and cleared her throat, glancing up at Atoli, “F-Fine, you may l-lead the way.”
“Better start counting.” She mused, before thinking back on his question. “Vell I suppose I need to head up to my hideout. I didn’t bring any of my veapons or armor, as I didn’t anticipate being troubled vith zhis task...I could send a messenger bird but zhat might take too long...” Iskra hadn’t lead such a large force before, much less for a cause as... honorable as this. Half the time the extent of her leadership covered relations and movement, and of course dealing out punishment, which she was well known for. This would be quite the challenge.
“But...given fact ve are only searching for Katja and...other two, I shouldn’t need my armor...” she rubbed her chin, “Atoli took my cloak for Katja if she located her...but zhis cold is nozhing really. My bandits should arrive any minute now, zhanks to one who exposed me.” She seemed a little less than pleased at recalling that memory, but the woman drummed her fingers in the table anyways, before tugging her dagger from its surface, “I suppose ve should let ozher groups know. Katja’s men vill have little trouble following my orders but I imagine yours,” she regarded Pentre with a small wave, “Vill certainly have their...” Iskra paused for a moment, thinking, “...opinions. And Grum’s, I vill have to beat sense into. Vhich is not truly issue.”
—————————
“M’Lady, im afraid you overestimate me. As you can tell, I’m a woman.” Katja gestures to herself, watching Atoli, “Women are not allowed to be Knighted. I have been in this field for so long, however, most refer to us as Knights out of convenience.”
“Truthfully, there is no honor binding me to obey the words of the royal family. And had the King wanted, my men and I could’ve been hunted and arrested for treason, with a militia of our size.” She rubbed her horse absentmindedly, watching it snort and nose around the snow near its legs, “it is only because of our good judgement and morals that we remain in his good graces. I have gone against Royal Knights before and nearly lost my head for it.”
Katja seemed to think back on something; it seemed the Knight had done a bit of dirty work herself, though what exactly that entailed was unclear. But if the Prince was demanding her presence, then her only course of action could be to return. Perhaps her healer could do so minor checks over her as well, to make sure she wasn’t dying. As if to emphasis this need, the woman’s face flushed, and she pressed her head into the mane of her horse again, to brace herself against the hot flash that overcame her body.
“Y-Yet I suppose it is only respectful t-that I return. Unless I really d-do want to lose my head.” She straightened up and cleared her throat, glancing up at Atoli, “F-Fine, you may l-lead the way.”
Atoli’s eyes narrowed as the woman spoke, and blinked slowly as Katja explained her situation. As she listened her clawed toes kneaded into the branch that she rested on, impatient. When Katja finally conceded the harpy breathed a sigh of relief and hopped up from her sitting posture to stand on the perch, looking smug.
“Good! Come on, then.” Atoli replied and jumped off the branch. She flew above the trees to better catch the wind and flapped her wings easily in the snowy breeze. The harpy occasionally glanced down to be sure Katja could see her (and vise versa) to be sure they followed.
“Good! Come on, then.” Atoli replied and jumped off the branch. She flew above the trees to better catch the wind and flapped her wings easily in the snowy breeze. The harpy occasionally glanced down to be sure Katja could see her (and vise versa) to be sure they followed.
Merthyr was snapped out of his worried thoughts when he heard the loud and clear smack from Iskra as it landed upon Pentre's face, her palm now leaving a red imprint on his otherwise pale cheek, causing Pentre to cringe
"One..." remarked Pentre in a tense voice but following her order to get counting all the same
Merthyr listened with interest into Iskra's explanations and her lackings and stood up arms crossed.
"Allow me to hand you what you are lacking... Iskra. It would be improper to appoint you the hand of the king and not provide you adequately for it" mentioned Merthyr untying the royal red cloak with the golden embroided dragon and bringing his own cloak to Iskra, leaving it on the table for her to take up
"The royal cloak not only will keep you warm but will also exert my authority, now your authority, over the men" explained Merthyr calmly
"Accept the royal sword... that it may serve you well in your quest... " offered Merthyr unsheathing and bringing the king's sword over to her and placing it into her hands and care
"Just... try to not to loose in battle... it is one of a kind" explained Merthyr unaware that it had been magic imbued to ensure it would strike and parry with certainty. A touch of safety from his devoted Taff.
"These pair of daggers were made for assassin's work, they are perfectly balanced... take them in case you need to act quickly from a distance" encouraged Merthyr effectively disarming himself to arm Iskra at his expense
"Take up the royal seal, that you may pass sentencing upon anyone who dares oppose you or defy your orders..." presented Merthyr
"Last but not least, do not forget the lord knight's pendant, any knight who sees it around your neck will know to accept all your orders no matter what these may be" promised Merthyr extending the item as well
"You may use my royal steed, and the king's armor too" assured Merthyr removing the armor and leaving it neatly piled up for Iskra to wear if she chose to do so.
"Go now.. do not delay your search unduly" urged Merthyr well aware that every day was a dimmer chance to find them at all
He then returned to the fireplace, to keep warm by the hearth and resume his worrisome thoughts of all the possible ill misfortunes Taff might be enduring.
"One..." remarked Pentre in a tense voice but following her order to get counting all the same
Merthyr listened with interest into Iskra's explanations and her lackings and stood up arms crossed.
"Allow me to hand you what you are lacking... Iskra. It would be improper to appoint you the hand of the king and not provide you adequately for it" mentioned Merthyr untying the royal red cloak with the golden embroided dragon and bringing his own cloak to Iskra, leaving it on the table for her to take up
"The royal cloak not only will keep you warm but will also exert my authority, now your authority, over the men" explained Merthyr calmly
"Accept the royal sword... that it may serve you well in your quest... " offered Merthyr unsheathing and bringing the king's sword over to her and placing it into her hands and care
"Just... try to not to loose in battle... it is one of a kind" explained Merthyr unaware that it had been magic imbued to ensure it would strike and parry with certainty. A touch of safety from his devoted Taff.
"These pair of daggers were made for assassin's work, they are perfectly balanced... take them in case you need to act quickly from a distance" encouraged Merthyr effectively disarming himself to arm Iskra at his expense
"Take up the royal seal, that you may pass sentencing upon anyone who dares oppose you or defy your orders..." presented Merthyr
"Last but not least, do not forget the lord knight's pendant, any knight who sees it around your neck will know to accept all your orders no matter what these may be" promised Merthyr extending the item as well
"You may use my royal steed, and the king's armor too" assured Merthyr removing the armor and leaving it neatly piled up for Iskra to wear if she chose to do so.
"Go now.. do not delay your search unduly" urged Merthyr well aware that every day was a dimmer chance to find them at all
He then returned to the fireplace, to keep warm by the hearth and resume his worrisome thoughts of all the possible ill misfortunes Taff might be enduring.
The minotaur-in-Taff's-body pursed his lips in displeasure as the servant lectured him on his ways. "I don't need your scolding, boy! I've done worse than this!" He roughly patted the servan't chest, as if to emphasize this. "And I know who my enemies are!"
He turned around and looked at the now clearly dead thing. He scratched his scrawny chin before glancing back down the path-- where the strange woman now walked. "Ugh. I think we have a tag-along." Still, Grum passed the dead thing to walk up the same path. "My clan is dust, Taff. Maybe there are still some loyal among them out here but it hardly matters." It seemed the chieftain hardly noticed he actually spoke the servant's name.
"We're on our own."
_
The former bandit smiled at the hybrid's faked elation. "Aye, wonderful."
"Hold!" One of the guards said to the two newcomers up the road. He looked at Kerik, seeming to believe that the wraith didn't understand the language well. "This is Aftbide, territory of men. Non-humans don't belong here; you'd do well to remind this creature of that." It sounded harsh but the guard didn't necessarily need to warn them.
Kerik perked up a bit; so far they didn't recognize him as a bandit, but it wouldn't matter much if the duo and he played their cards poorly. "Ah, yes, let me just have a word with th- him." He turned away from the armed men towards Tom and Zafira, his brow creasing with building concern.
_
Tara twitched a bit with surprise as Iskra slapped Pentre, eyes widening. For that moment she was glad she continued to wear her helmet, for the warrior couldn't help but be pleased by the humbling gesture. She resisted the urge to draw a hand to her face and snicker; it was all the harder after the sleepless nights spent in the infirmary.
Her expression and body-language sobered as Merthyr started to hand Iskra equipment and signifying objects. Though the king urged them on, the knight could only watch and wait while the bandit king deliberated. She wondered if the white-haired woman would actually use much of the king's men at all.
He turned around and looked at the now clearly dead thing. He scratched his scrawny chin before glancing back down the path-- where the strange woman now walked. "Ugh. I think we have a tag-along." Still, Grum passed the dead thing to walk up the same path. "My clan is dust, Taff. Maybe there are still some loyal among them out here but it hardly matters." It seemed the chieftain hardly noticed he actually spoke the servant's name.
"We're on our own."
_
The former bandit smiled at the hybrid's faked elation. "Aye, wonderful."
"Hold!" One of the guards said to the two newcomers up the road. He looked at Kerik, seeming to believe that the wraith didn't understand the language well. "This is Aftbide, territory of men. Non-humans don't belong here; you'd do well to remind this creature of that." It sounded harsh but the guard didn't necessarily need to warn them.
Kerik perked up a bit; so far they didn't recognize him as a bandit, but it wouldn't matter much if the duo and he played their cards poorly. "Ah, yes, let me just have a word with th- him." He turned away from the armed men towards Tom and Zafira, his brow creasing with building concern.
_
Tara twitched a bit with surprise as Iskra slapped Pentre, eyes widening. For that moment she was glad she continued to wear her helmet, for the warrior couldn't help but be pleased by the humbling gesture. She resisted the urge to draw a hand to her face and snicker; it was all the harder after the sleepless nights spent in the infirmary.
Her expression and body-language sobered as Merthyr started to hand Iskra equipment and signifying objects. Though the king urged them on, the knight could only watch and wait while the bandit king deliberated. She wondered if the white-haired woman would actually use much of the king's men at all.
The duo halted and the face became unsure. The reaction to say the least confused and amused them, the guards seemed so jittery. A feeling the hybrid felt was truly justified. The bewilderment plainly clear on the face deepened, spreading from the eyes to the mouth. Then in a moment of clarity, it disappeared.
Taking a few steps forward past their companion, the foreigner spoke up, saying a phrase that seemed to be well rehearsed. Clearly, it had been once practiced for a while on whatever journey they had been on. "I come from not round here, I from a distant land. Traveling the world, seeing the sights!"
A beaming face directed at the guards made it evident that the speaker was very pleased with the explanation they had given.
Taking a few steps forward past their companion, the foreigner spoke up, saying a phrase that seemed to be well rehearsed. Clearly, it had been once practiced for a while on whatever journey they had been on. "I come from not round here, I from a distant land. Traveling the world, seeing the sights!"
A beaming face directed at the guards made it evident that the speaker was very pleased with the explanation they had given.
Iskra seemed pleased until Merthyr addressed her, and as he placed equipment down, it became a sobering moment. Iskra stared at the sword he had placed in her hands; she was not magically inclined, and couldn’t tell it had been charmed. She felt wary holding such a blade too, bearing a deep scar across her chest that showcased her lack of skill with such weapons.
“...Zhank you...your highness...” she mumbled, bowing her head a bit. It had seemed to finally hit her, This was not a game, and wasn’t for fun like her raids had been. She had been picked, Be it out of necessity or a lack of other choices, and there were lives in her hands.
There was work to be done.
“Lord Knight Pentre...” she glanced to him, her eyes sweeping the mark on his cheek before focusing on his eyes, “Release my bandits zhat are here, tell zhem to meet at stables. Zhey are, for now, under your command, and if any resist or move to attack, do not hesitate to Injure zhem. Zhey are...dangerous, going easy on zhem is not an option.” She would’ve given him her dagger, a sign he could be trusted, but Atoli had that. Iskra had, by then, secured the armor and cloak on her, and though it was slightly big she seemed fine. With a pained look on her face, she reached into a pouch on her belt, tugging out a small chain with a ring on it. She held it out to Pentre with a rather intense glare, “Zhis belonged to my late husband. It should keep zhe rowdy ones from resisting, zhey listen vell vhen reminded of his untimely death. Lose it, I might just kill you.”
Iskra turned on her heel, picking the daggers up and securing them where she would’ve kept her own on her belt, “Lady Tara... Atoli isn’t very fond of me. She headed north. You can take party of men and head after zhem, make sure Katja is returned here safe? And make certain Atoli returns my dagger.”
And then she stood there, hesitating for a moment. Once she went out that door, she would have to move fast and smart. Truthfully, Iskra could’ve picked out ten higher qualified people to take this task if she was blind and deaf. She didn’t even believe she could make this happen, but still. Iskra was stubborn, and she certainly would try, “Lord Knight Pentre, ill meet you by stables. I’ll gazher Katja’s men and royal knights Tara doesn’t take. I suppose our best...no, ve’ll talk later. Let’s move for now.”
———————
Katja rode quietly behind Atoli, following her carefully, though the way her head drooped sometimes, perhaps it was the horse who was following and not the rider. By the time they had come down the mountain, the drowsy woman had fallen asleep probably twice, much more relaxed now than when she had been on her own.
She rubbed her eyes, “So, Miss, I’m assuming Iskra’s been arrested? I-I can’t see her w-willingly helping me out, especially by s-sending someone else.”
“...Zhank you...your highness...” she mumbled, bowing her head a bit. It had seemed to finally hit her, This was not a game, and wasn’t for fun like her raids had been. She had been picked, Be it out of necessity or a lack of other choices, and there were lives in her hands.
There was work to be done.
“Lord Knight Pentre...” she glanced to him, her eyes sweeping the mark on his cheek before focusing on his eyes, “Release my bandits zhat are here, tell zhem to meet at stables. Zhey are, for now, under your command, and if any resist or move to attack, do not hesitate to Injure zhem. Zhey are...dangerous, going easy on zhem is not an option.” She would’ve given him her dagger, a sign he could be trusted, but Atoli had that. Iskra had, by then, secured the armor and cloak on her, and though it was slightly big she seemed fine. With a pained look on her face, she reached into a pouch on her belt, tugging out a small chain with a ring on it. She held it out to Pentre with a rather intense glare, “Zhis belonged to my late husband. It should keep zhe rowdy ones from resisting, zhey listen vell vhen reminded of his untimely death. Lose it, I might just kill you.”
Iskra turned on her heel, picking the daggers up and securing them where she would’ve kept her own on her belt, “Lady Tara... Atoli isn’t very fond of me. She headed north. You can take party of men and head after zhem, make sure Katja is returned here safe? And make certain Atoli returns my dagger.”
And then she stood there, hesitating for a moment. Once she went out that door, she would have to move fast and smart. Truthfully, Iskra could’ve picked out ten higher qualified people to take this task if she was blind and deaf. She didn’t even believe she could make this happen, but still. Iskra was stubborn, and she certainly would try, “Lord Knight Pentre, ill meet you by stables. I’ll gazher Katja’s men and royal knights Tara doesn’t take. I suppose our best...no, ve’ll talk later. Let’s move for now.”
———————
Katja rode quietly behind Atoli, following her carefully, though the way her head drooped sometimes, perhaps it was the horse who was following and not the rider. By the time they had come down the mountain, the drowsy woman had fallen asleep probably twice, much more relaxed now than when she had been on her own.
She rubbed her eyes, “So, Miss, I’m assuming Iskra’s been arrested? I-I can’t see her w-willingly helping me out, especially by s-sending someone else.”
"Thirty deadly rogues at my service... how... generous... they ought to be thirty dangling rogues dead at my hands instead" muttered Pentre snatching the pendant and tossing it into the pocket with little care
"You can command me as you wish, your grace, but... remember... I am no husband of yours." informed Pentre lifting the locket from the pocket and watching it dangle, suspended in the air.
"Do not dare dishonor me in your bed chambers. I would definitely take the greatest offense at it. Given your higher authority, I am in no position to refuse you at present, at the same time, I am no cheap tavern wench either. Do not force my hand on the matter.
Such unknightly deeds would seriously damage my reputation so much so that it would be difficult to live it down for many years to come... and they would fall heaviest upon you at earliest opportunity" admitted Pentre assuming she had womanly lustful desires towards him if she was making him wear her former husband's medallion.
Pentre's face was red as a beetroot as he most grudgingly locked the pendant around his neck, which became clearly visible, contrasting and standing out against the black leather he wore.
He made his way to the barracks, writing out and reading the pardons, extremely reluctantly at that, ordering the release and opening the cages and cells to let out the less than pleasant looking men.
He gave them orders to gather at the main square but without providing explanations to his sudden change of heart concerning the death sentences he had now revoked or answer any questions the thugs might have.
"You can command me as you wish, your grace, but... remember... I am no husband of yours." informed Pentre lifting the locket from the pocket and watching it dangle, suspended in the air.
"Do not dare dishonor me in your bed chambers. I would definitely take the greatest offense at it. Given your higher authority, I am in no position to refuse you at present, at the same time, I am no cheap tavern wench either. Do not force my hand on the matter.
Such unknightly deeds would seriously damage my reputation so much so that it would be difficult to live it down for many years to come... and they would fall heaviest upon you at earliest opportunity" admitted Pentre assuming she had womanly lustful desires towards him if she was making him wear her former husband's medallion.
Pentre's face was red as a beetroot as he most grudgingly locked the pendant around his neck, which became clearly visible, contrasting and standing out against the black leather he wore.
He made his way to the barracks, writing out and reading the pardons, extremely reluctantly at that, ordering the release and opening the cages and cells to let out the less than pleasant looking men.
He gave them orders to gather at the main square but without providing explanations to his sudden change of heart concerning the death sentences he had now revoked or answer any questions the thugs might have.
Tara tilted her head slightly when the bandit king addressed her; even in those moments before, the knight thought it'd be interesting to see the other woman try to lead the king's men. When she was addressed she found her earlier observation to be very true. Where before Faolan saw carelessness and disregard she could now tell Iskra realized just what was going on. She stowed her mixed emotions on the matter to acknowledge her orders.
"It will be done." She stated, waiting a few seconds before nodding and turning toward the counter. Once there she called for Otso and asked, "Where is our friendly neighborhood healer, now?" The bar owner smiled and shook his head, setting aside a half-cleaned mug to collect a bundle from behind the bar. "She's returned to her duties. Which reminds me, this is for you!" The old man placed the bundle on the counter-top. "And your's. Though you might want to pick up more at the infirmary, iffin' you're going to rescue someone."
Faolan suppressed a groan. With her earlier activity she wondered if her shoulder wound had been stretched; if that were the case Lwyncelyne would be more than cross. Still, he had a point. The warrior collected her package from the counter and walked out of the bar, leaving the door swinging behind her.
She'd rally some of the king's men first, then talk to the healer.
_
Kerik regarded the hybrid again as they explained themselves to the guards. He studied the guards' reactions as well, hoping the act would encourage them to overlook what was surely seemed a small crime. One of them seemed to consider this while another simply folded his arms, shaking his head. The first guard scratched his chin while squinting at the three. "...Where're you from, then?"
The former bandit smirked; perhaps there was some hope after all. Still, he left that question to Tom and Zafira; he had no intentions to contradict them at such a critical moment.
"It will be done." She stated, waiting a few seconds before nodding and turning toward the counter. Once there she called for Otso and asked, "Where is our friendly neighborhood healer, now?" The bar owner smiled and shook his head, setting aside a half-cleaned mug to collect a bundle from behind the bar. "She's returned to her duties. Which reminds me, this is for you!" The old man placed the bundle on the counter-top. "And your's. Though you might want to pick up more at the infirmary, iffin' you're going to rescue someone."
Faolan suppressed a groan. With her earlier activity she wondered if her shoulder wound had been stretched; if that were the case Lwyncelyne would be more than cross. Still, he had a point. The warrior collected her package from the counter and walked out of the bar, leaving the door swinging behind her.
She'd rally some of the king's men first, then talk to the healer.
_
Kerik regarded the hybrid again as they explained themselves to the guards. He studied the guards' reactions as well, hoping the act would encourage them to overlook what was surely seemed a small crime. One of them seemed to consider this while another simply folded his arms, shaking his head. The first guard scratched his chin while squinting at the three. "...Where're you from, then?"
The former bandit smirked; perhaps there was some hope after all. Still, he left that question to Tom and Zafira; he had no intentions to contradict them at such a critical moment.
When the Katja’s horse stepped onto the road that led to Aftbide, Atoli looked back down to the woman. “Aye, I knocked her over myself when she tried to run. Heh... Her face was hilarious when she saw me.” Atoli smirked smugly as she recalled the Bandit leader's shocked expression.
Atoli drew back for a moment so that she was behind the Woman and her steed now. “Can’t you make that thing go faster? I thought horses were supposed to be quick.” She eyed the horse impatiently. Being accustomed to flying directly to her destination, it felt like such a hassle to wait as others had to go over terrain. They were about 2/3rds to their destination but the road the rest of the way there was long and dull.
The harpy’s eyes glinted mischievously now as she looked over the horse. “Maybe a little motivation would help, hmm?” She stuck her feet out, talons spread wide, and landed behind Katja on the horse and braced herself by leaning in and grabbing onto the Knight’s shoulders. Having a sharp-footed creature crouching on its backside might do the trick.
Atoli drew back for a moment so that she was behind the Woman and her steed now. “Can’t you make that thing go faster? I thought horses were supposed to be quick.” She eyed the horse impatiently. Being accustomed to flying directly to her destination, it felt like such a hassle to wait as others had to go over terrain. They were about 2/3rds to their destination but the road the rest of the way there was long and dull.
The harpy’s eyes glinted mischievously now as she looked over the horse. “Maybe a little motivation would help, hmm?” She stuck her feet out, talons spread wide, and landed behind Katja on the horse and braced herself by leaning in and grabbing onto the Knight’s shoulders. Having a sharp-footed creature crouching on its backside might do the trick.
"We may not have any allies but we most certainly are not on our own. That strange woman and her growling bear are following us, these walking undead are following us... we are surrounded by hostile dangers, not on our own at all, Grum.
We must hurry to Aftbide and become calm enough for me to be able to unravel the spell returning you to your body and I to my own.
My powers are all the greater when contained in the right, well trained vessels and your skills and tactics are better used in combination with your raw force and well built muscles.
You know the worse part of it all? My own body has magic of its own, if you are not careful you could cause all sorts of disasters, natural disasters... I might struggle to restrain or correct, so try not to get angry and watch... your... words" warned Taff looking back horrified at the undead that were following them
"Those walking corpses are coming for you.. the question is are they looking for Grum or for Grum's body?" muttered Taff alarmed that those... things... would persist in following them
"Hurry now... the sooner we get there the better..." urged on and pressed on Taff
We must hurry to Aftbide and become calm enough for me to be able to unravel the spell returning you to your body and I to my own.
My powers are all the greater when contained in the right, well trained vessels and your skills and tactics are better used in combination with your raw force and well built muscles.
You know the worse part of it all? My own body has magic of its own, if you are not careful you could cause all sorts of disasters, natural disasters... I might struggle to restrain or correct, so try not to get angry and watch... your... words" warned Taff looking back horrified at the undead that were following them
"Those walking corpses are coming for you.. the question is are they looking for Grum or for Grum's body?" muttered Taff alarmed that those... things... would persist in following them
"Hurry now... the sooner we get there the better..." urged on and pressed on Taff
For the Hybrid the answer came quickly, without the slightest hint of hesitation. So to the guards in a tone heavily laden with the fondness of happy memories they spoke of their homeland. "I come from a land far from here. Where the yellow star"
It paused unsure of what it had just said and like before there came a few seconds of quiet muttering. The foreigner turning the word over in their mouthbefore deciding on a more fitting word. "The sun, always shines. The blue desert glitters all cycle"
Finally the critical moment arrived and with it a dawning realization for the pair. They had no idea how to translate the name of their country of origin: shamesti which for them mean the land of the sun.
What followed was a few agonizingly silent seconds, agonizing at least for the twin souls trapped within this precarious situation. In reality the pause only lasted around ten seconds but for the thinkers it lasted an eternity.
"It's name is not good to translate," the words came out more as thoughts given voice than anything else, yet it also served as a helpful apology. "I know not a word which turns it to your tounge exactly, yet from memory I do believe the a name given was Solari."
Everything spoken from their mouth was indeed true, a fact that helped them concentrate on the performance of a well meaning foreigner. Although in speaking of it, the pair gained a glimmer of nostalgia for the lands they had left. Vowing silently to one day return and gaze upon the sights now only seen in distant memory.
For the constructs of hardened flesh and spikes of bone, life was beginning anew. For in them, rudimentary intelligence had been imbued, one which gave rise to a new sense of purpose and life.
A new purpose which was being guided by the center-most being, this one had been the last to transform fully and the one the lich had spent the most time tinkering with.
Now the beings were being directed to erect a small wooden palisade. Nothing fancy, but sturdy enough to serve as some protection. This was a task they would focus on until completion, or something interrupting their labour.
It paused unsure of what it had just said and like before there came a few seconds of quiet muttering. The foreigner turning the word over in their mouthbefore deciding on a more fitting word. "The sun, always shines. The blue desert glitters all cycle"
Finally the critical moment arrived and with it a dawning realization for the pair. They had no idea how to translate the name of their country of origin: shamesti which for them mean the land of the sun.
What followed was a few agonizingly silent seconds, agonizing at least for the twin souls trapped within this precarious situation. In reality the pause only lasted around ten seconds but for the thinkers it lasted an eternity.
"It's name is not good to translate," the words came out more as thoughts given voice than anything else, yet it also served as a helpful apology. "I know not a word which turns it to your tounge exactly, yet from memory I do believe the a name given was Solari."
Everything spoken from their mouth was indeed true, a fact that helped them concentrate on the performance of a well meaning foreigner. Although in speaking of it, the pair gained a glimmer of nostalgia for the lands they had left. Vowing silently to one day return and gaze upon the sights now only seen in distant memory.
For the constructs of hardened flesh and spikes of bone, life was beginning anew. For in them, rudimentary intelligence had been imbued, one which gave rise to a new sense of purpose and life.
A new purpose which was being guided by the center-most being, this one had been the last to transform fully and the one the lich had spent the most time tinkering with.
Now the beings were being directed to erect a small wooden palisade. Nothing fancy, but sturdy enough to serve as some protection. This was a task they would focus on until completion, or something interrupting their labour.
Iskra’s face had been flushed the moment she gave it to him, but the Bandit could only get darker in color as Pentre spoke. Luckily, the look that came over her face was not one of a flustered young woman after confessing her love. No, this was like someone who looked horribly insulted and almost on the verge of sickness. Her? With...him?!?! The thought brought a bitter taste to her mouth, “I ripped my husbands heart from chest, cur, zhat necklace means nozhing but strong- and usually fatal- tie to Onyx.”
She waited until he left, preferring to not be near him as they headed out. Iskra paused at the door, looking into the snow. If she wanted, she could flee now. After all, how would they know she was running, she could go in the direction of Katja’s camp and they would be none the wiser until she had gathered her men from the hideout and left. She could head south, towards the warmth and sun, lay low...
Iskra gripped the doorframe before letting go, pulling the cloak around her shoulders a little tighter. Running away would be the bandit way, but there was some kind of stubborn pride about showing Pentre up that would keep Iskra there. Though perhaps it would’ve been a better idea for her to go get her bandits, and Pentre to gather Katja’s Knights...
Which Iskra would be able to fully regret later, as upon arriving at the Knights came, she was met with a rather enraged orc-Half breed and received a pretty harsh punch to the jaw that left the woman stunned and aching. But Merthyr’s armor And sword were enough to convey her current change in alignments, and though it took some explaining, Iskra arrived back at the square, this time with Katja’s Knights in tow, and a deep bruise on her face.
Her men had been relatively quiet when Pentre released them, save for one whistling; Pentre would recognize it as their signal, and when a response came there was a small bit of laughter amongst the group, “So yuh ain’t killed tha woman yet? Don’t surprise me, she obviously got ‘erself into some kinda trouble wit that necklace.” He pointed out, and the sneer he gave Pentre was hardly that of a friendly tease, “So whut, she servin’ yuh now?”
But with Pentre not keen on giving responses, the bandits came to quietly grumbling to themselves, speaking the same strange northern tongue that Iskra did.
————
“I bet, she’s a....” Katja trailed off, watching the looK the harpy gave her change. And though she didn’t verbalize this, she had seen Iskra with a similar look, that of someone about to cause mischief.
Which she recognized when the harpy landed on the horse and grabbed her shoulders. The woman let out a stunned yell and gripped the reins tight as the horse kicked up on its hind legs, letting out a squeal before breaking into a gallop down the stone path. Katja clutched the reins with all he strength (which wasn’t much by now) and honestly, the woman wasn’t entirely sure whether it had been a good idea at all to allow the harpy to lead her back to Aftbide. She probably should’ve just stayed back at Iskra’s hideout, at least there she was somewhat safe.
But with the pace the horse had taken to, Katja wasn’t going to be stopping it any time soon, straightening up and making certain that they stayed on the path, “T-That was quite reckless, missy!”
She waited until he left, preferring to not be near him as they headed out. Iskra paused at the door, looking into the snow. If she wanted, she could flee now. After all, how would they know she was running, she could go in the direction of Katja’s camp and they would be none the wiser until she had gathered her men from the hideout and left. She could head south, towards the warmth and sun, lay low...
Iskra gripped the doorframe before letting go, pulling the cloak around her shoulders a little tighter. Running away would be the bandit way, but there was some kind of stubborn pride about showing Pentre up that would keep Iskra there. Though perhaps it would’ve been a better idea for her to go get her bandits, and Pentre to gather Katja’s Knights...
Which Iskra would be able to fully regret later, as upon arriving at the Knights came, she was met with a rather enraged orc-Half breed and received a pretty harsh punch to the jaw that left the woman stunned and aching. But Merthyr’s armor And sword were enough to convey her current change in alignments, and though it took some explaining, Iskra arrived back at the square, this time with Katja’s Knights in tow, and a deep bruise on her face.
Her men had been relatively quiet when Pentre released them, save for one whistling; Pentre would recognize it as their signal, and when a response came there was a small bit of laughter amongst the group, “So yuh ain’t killed tha woman yet? Don’t surprise me, she obviously got ‘erself into some kinda trouble wit that necklace.” He pointed out, and the sneer he gave Pentre was hardly that of a friendly tease, “So whut, she servin’ yuh now?”
But with Pentre not keen on giving responses, the bandits came to quietly grumbling to themselves, speaking the same strange northern tongue that Iskra did.
————
“I bet, she’s a....” Katja trailed off, watching the looK the harpy gave her change. And though she didn’t verbalize this, she had seen Iskra with a similar look, that of someone about to cause mischief.
Which she recognized when the harpy landed on the horse and grabbed her shoulders. The woman let out a stunned yell and gripped the reins tight as the horse kicked up on its hind legs, letting out a squeal before breaking into a gallop down the stone path. Katja clutched the reins with all he strength (which wasn’t much by now) and honestly, the woman wasn’t entirely sure whether it had been a good idea at all to allow the harpy to lead her back to Aftbide. She probably should’ve just stayed back at Iskra’s hideout, at least there she was somewhat safe.
But with the pace the horse had taken to, Katja wasn’t going to be stopping it any time soon, straightening up and making certain that they stayed on the path, “T-That was quite reckless, missy!”
Most were compliant, recognizing the foreign warrior as knighted by the king. Some others sneered and dragged their feet. As they made their way back toward the town one of them grumbled complaints, trying not to be heard by her.
After a while Tara rolled her eyes and turned sharply around to address him. "Wessel."
The man started a bit and looked up, his expression twisting into a scowl. "Ser." He grumbled.
"You have something to share with the rest of us?"
The group of soldiers looked to the man, some chuckling and teasing him. He stalled a bit, fidgeting with a button on his tunic before spitting on the road and stepping toward her. "I do." The knight nodded at him, a gesture more intended to prompt further speech than acknowledge anything. He glanced down, took a breath, stuck out his chest slightly and stood as straight as possible. "I don't like the idea of following some dame into the woods. Dunno how they treat women where you're from, but where I'm from this is a man's work, and we work all the better for it."
The gathering watched as Tara tilted her head, seeming unperturbed despite the soldier's challenge. She shrugged. "Where I'm from, its much the same. I'm out here because I worked toward since I was a child. You're here because your lord wanted you more for fighting than tilling. So who do you think the better leader is?"
Wessel's nose wrinkled. "There's a reason kings're the ones who lead us to war, ser. And I'll not be lost in some woods because our new king's a bleeding heart who lets women into his fold!"
Faolan shifted her footing and rested her palm on the pommel of her blade. "Take care." She warned. "It almost sounds like you're considering desertion. I have very specific directions for dealing with that."
The soldier stepped closer, feeling bolder for having argued this long. "As if you'd have the guts--"
The back of Tara's hand collided with the side of Wessel's face, sending him sprawling onto the slush of the road. Some of the other troops laughed and jeered but the downed man wasn't done. He scrambled to regain his footing, growling in pain seconds after as the knight's boot pressed his ankle, partially twisted, back to the ground. "Return to camp. You're not clever enough to search with us."
She lifted her foot, releasing him and watching him scramble away before turning towards the other soldiers. "Anyone else?" Some grumbling arose from the crowd but none of them followed Wessel, so she nodded, said, "Let's be going, then." and turned back to arriving at the infirmary.
Once there she bade her followers wait outside and stepped in to find Lwyncelyne; hoping that the cleric wouldn't take much more of her time.
_
Kerik stopped himself from flinching as the guard asked where the hybrid originated from; he'd assumed that they had no answer to that, given their dual identities. When they started to explain the desert he paused and watched them with fascination similar to that on some of the guards' faces. One of them muttered, "That sounds beautiful." Another added gruffly, "It sounds hot."
The man who'd been questioning them grunted. "Solari, huh? I think I've heard of something like that..." He scratched the side of his face contemplatively. "Weird that you'd decide to leave it for this place, its freakin' cold."
The former bandit nodded, hoping to encourage the guards' compliance. "Aye, well, we're just passing through so you don't have to worry about us for long."
The guards eyed them closely for a moment before the man in the front mumbled and stepped aside, gesturing further down the road. "Don't mind if we come with you, then? Unaccompanied travelers like yourselves'll get in trouble without an escort."
After a while Tara rolled her eyes and turned sharply around to address him. "Wessel."
The man started a bit and looked up, his expression twisting into a scowl. "Ser." He grumbled.
"You have something to share with the rest of us?"
The group of soldiers looked to the man, some chuckling and teasing him. He stalled a bit, fidgeting with a button on his tunic before spitting on the road and stepping toward her. "I do." The knight nodded at him, a gesture more intended to prompt further speech than acknowledge anything. He glanced down, took a breath, stuck out his chest slightly and stood as straight as possible. "I don't like the idea of following some dame into the woods. Dunno how they treat women where you're from, but where I'm from this is a man's work, and we work all the better for it."
The gathering watched as Tara tilted her head, seeming unperturbed despite the soldier's challenge. She shrugged. "Where I'm from, its much the same. I'm out here because I worked toward since I was a child. You're here because your lord wanted you more for fighting than tilling. So who do you think the better leader is?"
Wessel's nose wrinkled. "There's a reason kings're the ones who lead us to war, ser. And I'll not be lost in some woods because our new king's a bleeding heart who lets women into his fold!"
Faolan shifted her footing and rested her palm on the pommel of her blade. "Take care." She warned. "It almost sounds like you're considering desertion. I have very specific directions for dealing with that."
The soldier stepped closer, feeling bolder for having argued this long. "As if you'd have the guts--"
The back of Tara's hand collided with the side of Wessel's face, sending him sprawling onto the slush of the road. Some of the other troops laughed and jeered but the downed man wasn't done. He scrambled to regain his footing, growling in pain seconds after as the knight's boot pressed his ankle, partially twisted, back to the ground. "Return to camp. You're not clever enough to search with us."
She lifted her foot, releasing him and watching him scramble away before turning towards the other soldiers. "Anyone else?" Some grumbling arose from the crowd but none of them followed Wessel, so she nodded, said, "Let's be going, then." and turned back to arriving at the infirmary.
Once there she bade her followers wait outside and stepped in to find Lwyncelyne; hoping that the cleric wouldn't take much more of her time.
_
Kerik stopped himself from flinching as the guard asked where the hybrid originated from; he'd assumed that they had no answer to that, given their dual identities. When they started to explain the desert he paused and watched them with fascination similar to that on some of the guards' faces. One of them muttered, "That sounds beautiful." Another added gruffly, "It sounds hot."
The man who'd been questioning them grunted. "Solari, huh? I think I've heard of something like that..." He scratched the side of his face contemplatively. "Weird that you'd decide to leave it for this place, its freakin' cold."
The former bandit nodded, hoping to encourage the guards' compliance. "Aye, well, we're just passing through so you don't have to worry about us for long."
The guards eyed them closely for a moment before the man in the front mumbled and stepped aside, gesturing further down the road. "Don't mind if we come with you, then? Unaccompanied travelers like yourselves'll get in trouble without an escort."
Tron Pentre cringed at the taunting remarks from Iskra's men, clutching the pendant tight fisted and displeased
"I merely wear this mark of shame out of obedience for knights cannot refuse royal orders..." trailed off Pentre
"Her time to dance in the wind will come, along with yours, sooner or later and I will personally see to it." assured Pentre in a frown
"For the time being, however, I cannot have the woman neither arrested nor hanged for it is high treason to plot or attack the hand of the king. His majesty saw it fit to appoint her our new head knight and governor" muttered Pentre pursing his lips and coming over to Iskra who finally arrived, an inquisitive eyebrow at her clearly bruised face.
"So... which of them has attacked your grace? I will be more than happy to have the culprits executed from this group or your own back there" assured and offered Pentre disliking the Knights of the People as much as Onyx bandits.
"I merely wear this mark of shame out of obedience for knights cannot refuse royal orders..." trailed off Pentre
"Her time to dance in the wind will come, along with yours, sooner or later and I will personally see to it." assured Pentre in a frown
"For the time being, however, I cannot have the woman neither arrested nor hanged for it is high treason to plot or attack the hand of the king. His majesty saw it fit to appoint her our new head knight and governor" muttered Pentre pursing his lips and coming over to Iskra who finally arrived, an inquisitive eyebrow at her clearly bruised face.
"So... which of them has attacked your grace? I will be more than happy to have the culprits executed from this group or your own back there" assured and offered Pentre disliking the Knights of the People as much as Onyx bandits.
The smile from Tom was a warm one, they had no plans for the town, no schemes, just an innocent curiosity. So an armed accompaniment by town guards was more than welcome. It provided more personalities to explore and converse with, something fresh in their lives and something fresh was always a thing the two souls were always on a lookout for.
Remembering a bit of manners from their home country, the hybrid placed a hand upon their lightly clothed chest and bowed slightly, "Thank you for your kindness in allowing me to pass, I won't be staying long here, but the company will be welcome. Only having one person to talk to gets a bit repetitive after a while."
In mentioning their comrade and not wishing to cause any offence, the pair turned around to reassure him of their friendship. "Not that your company and assistance hasn't been wonderful. I would not have seen many of the wonders this world has to offer without your help and once we leave here I'm sure we'll have many more journeys together."
"So you're a local here, right? What would you say is the best thing to visit in this town?" He directed this final question towards the guard who'd stepped aside to allow them passage.
Remembering a bit of manners from their home country, the hybrid placed a hand upon their lightly clothed chest and bowed slightly, "Thank you for your kindness in allowing me to pass, I won't be staying long here, but the company will be welcome. Only having one person to talk to gets a bit repetitive after a while."
In mentioning their comrade and not wishing to cause any offence, the pair turned around to reassure him of their friendship. "Not that your company and assistance hasn't been wonderful. I would not have seen many of the wonders this world has to offer without your help and once we leave here I'm sure we'll have many more journeys together."
"So you're a local here, right? What would you say is the best thing to visit in this town?" He directed this final question towards the guard who'd stepped aside to allow them passage.
With her hair whipping around her face, Atoli whooped and cackled as the horse sped down the road in a panic. She shifted her footing so that she held onto the end of the horse’s saddle to make the bumpy ride more secure.
“That was fun! Like flying in a storm. We’ll get there in no time now.” She chirped, grinning widely. She kept her hands on Katja’s shoulders while the horse ran but was careful not to dig her claws into them.
In the back of the harpy’s mind she made note of the outline of the Iskra’s special dagger that was hidden under her own tunic, and wondered how she might be able to hide it away to sell later. She hadn’t needed to show Katja it, so perhaps it might be forgotten to the bandit or looked over by their arrival.
It took under half an hour till the entrance of the town came into view. The Manor on the hill stood out proudly among the smaller buildings. By then the horse had worked up a sweat and had slowed to a more manageable lope. The infirmary would soon come into view.
“That was fun! Like flying in a storm. We’ll get there in no time now.” She chirped, grinning widely. She kept her hands on Katja’s shoulders while the horse ran but was careful not to dig her claws into them.
In the back of the harpy’s mind she made note of the outline of the Iskra’s special dagger that was hidden under her own tunic, and wondered how she might be able to hide it away to sell later. She hadn’t needed to show Katja it, so perhaps it might be forgotten to the bandit or looked over by their arrival.
It took under half an hour till the entrance of the town came into view. The Manor on the hill stood out proudly among the smaller buildings. By then the horse had worked up a sweat and had slowed to a more manageable lope. The infirmary would soon come into view.
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