Nails was surprised when Alexei of all people butt in on her conversation with Dunsten. She thought he wasn't paying attention-- too focused with 'business' talk and all that. "Huh." The elven rogue arched a surprise eyebrow at Alexei's apparent indignation, this Johann fellow must have been a real knuckle head to earn Alexei's resentment AND a dagger to the chest by Iskra.
"Alright, the last dude set the bar pretty low. I think I can do this." Nails muttered to herself and checked her cuffs and dusted her shoulders, fixing her kimono, almost as if she were planning to marry Iskra and become second in command of the Onyx bandits already. She was a bold one. Dunsten's mention that Iskra had partnered up with a lady knight before was troublesome though, Nails was the entire opposite of a knight, crass, dishonorable, prone to fighting dirty, she was loyal sure, but only in her own way. "Huh.. well, we'll see what happens." Said the elf, rubbing her chin before following Alexei and Dunsten outside.
As they left, Nails turned around and pointedly stared at Lancelot and Jals. She pointed at them with her index and middle finger before running her fingers across her own neck in a throat cutting motion. They've been marked. Next time she won't be going easy on either of them.
Her threat given, she quickly left the bar with the others.
"Alright, the last dude set the bar pretty low. I think I can do this." Nails muttered to herself and checked her cuffs and dusted her shoulders, fixing her kimono, almost as if she were planning to marry Iskra and become second in command of the Onyx bandits already. She was a bold one. Dunsten's mention that Iskra had partnered up with a lady knight before was troublesome though, Nails was the entire opposite of a knight, crass, dishonorable, prone to fighting dirty, she was loyal sure, but only in her own way. "Huh.. well, we'll see what happens." Said the elf, rubbing her chin before following Alexei and Dunsten outside.
As they left, Nails turned around and pointedly stared at Lancelot and Jals. She pointed at them with her index and middle finger before running her fingers across her own neck in a throat cutting motion. They've been marked. Next time she won't be going easy on either of them.
Her threat given, she quickly left the bar with the others.
Eric replaced the dagger and adopted a calm if regal demeaner as he looked at Sir Cordel Kotov when the man formally bowed before him and introduced himself.
"Pleased to make your acquaintance Sir Kotov of Tirshina." saluted Eric "I shall take heed of your sound advice and warning and follow you, of my own accord" assured Eric not about to leave Pentre's side
"Indeed the kingdom you hail from is a long-standing, albeit distant, northern ally of ours, quite far to the north, three month's riding or nine on foot. Coarse mountains with harsh winters yet bountiful mines, especially of high quality ores. I hope you find your stay and travels through these southern realms of mine more pleasant, at least weather wise." recalled Eric welcoming Cordel in a cordial fashion, whilst proving he was clearly well educated as was expected off the future ruler and leader.
"Iskra Sokol... thank you for the courtesy of allowing me to ride with you, unbound, and for the opportunity of joining you and your men and be able to remain by my uncle's side, it is much appreciated" thanked Eric coming over to Iskra to mount on her horse disregarding Pentre's obvious discomfort at the new situation and the physical closeness between Iskra and Eric, which kept the lord knight on edge
"Pleased to make your acquaintance Sir Kotov of Tirshina." saluted Eric "I shall take heed of your sound advice and warning and follow you, of my own accord" assured Eric not about to leave Pentre's side
"Indeed the kingdom you hail from is a long-standing, albeit distant, northern ally of ours, quite far to the north, three month's riding or nine on foot. Coarse mountains with harsh winters yet bountiful mines, especially of high quality ores. I hope you find your stay and travels through these southern realms of mine more pleasant, at least weather wise." recalled Eric welcoming Cordel in a cordial fashion, whilst proving he was clearly well educated as was expected off the future ruler and leader.
"Iskra Sokol... thank you for the courtesy of allowing me to ride with you, unbound, and for the opportunity of joining you and your men and be able to remain by my uncle's side, it is much appreciated" thanked Eric coming over to Iskra to mount on her horse disregarding Pentre's obvious discomfort at the new situation and the physical closeness between Iskra and Eric, which kept the lord knight on edge
Jal wouldn't have noticed the parcel of food in the other knight's hands had the latter not told him to take it. He took the small bundle gently into his hands, mulling it over for a second before replying simply. "Thank you." Lancelot's following explanation did not please him very much but he had a point; they were outnumbered, and the brigands were indeed quite skilled despite Jal's earlier words.
"It is all rather ridiculous, isn't it...? It seems to me Pentre would rather die than let these Onyx troublemakers go. He likely causes more suffering with the way he meddles in their affairs... not that I'd necessarily condone letting them wander free." Jalsinter grumbled, sitting down on the cart to accompany his fellow knight. Lancelot may well know that, although the former lord served Pentre, he held no love for the man.
"Still... with this hostage-taking business... What do you think the odds are their 'Lev' is in the same place as...?" As vague as it sounded, his fellow knight may know exactly what, or whom, Jal was talking about.
"It is all rather ridiculous, isn't it...? It seems to me Pentre would rather die than let these Onyx troublemakers go. He likely causes more suffering with the way he meddles in their affairs... not that I'd necessarily condone letting them wander free." Jalsinter grumbled, sitting down on the cart to accompany his fellow knight. Lancelot may well know that, although the former lord served Pentre, he held no love for the man.
"Still... with this hostage-taking business... What do you think the odds are their 'Lev' is in the same place as...?" As vague as it sounded, his fellow knight may know exactly what, or whom, Jal was talking about.
Lancelot took a deep breath and shook his head well aware of whom Jalsinter was referring to.
"Lev has been taken to the royal dungeons at the Capital City. A week's journey from here. But... he is not in the same cell as your brother Atoli. I made sure of that" appeased Lancelot to give the man some peace of mind.
"Lord knight Tron Pentre is the most ruthless, relentless, unforgiving man I have ever encountered, with not an ounce of mercy in his blood but... I need not remind you that your brother was caught stealing apples from Pentre's orchards... and theft, no matter how small, is a crime, a crime punishable at the lord of the lands' discretion. Admittedly a sentencing of life imprisonment by night from sunset to sunrise and hard labour by day, sunrise to sunset, is most excessive for only a handful of stolen apples, not even two basket's worth. But... the law allows it and Sir Pentre enforces it."
"I am sure it will take you a lifetime of servitude to repay that debt and crime, if you ever manage to settle accounts, but... you should know that I am doing my best to ensure your brother is somewhat looked after even within the prison's walls" sighed Lancelot looking ahead
"It cannot be easy to follow Pentre's commands, to give up your lands and titles, offer years of service and the small debt remains practically intact... I have brought your grievance to the king but... he has sided with Pentre on this matter. Your younger brother is a thief, caught and condemned and lord Pentre is your liege, in his rights to pass any sentence of his choosing no matter how extortionate" muttered Lancelot feeling the bitter taste of defeat and feeling as though he had let down his friend
"I can only suggest that you keep your head down and follow his every whim and order, else your brother will be heavily punished for your smallest of lackings and shortcomings" warned Lancelot grimly knowing Pentre well enough
"Lev has been taken to the royal dungeons at the Capital City. A week's journey from here. But... he is not in the same cell as your brother Atoli. I made sure of that" appeased Lancelot to give the man some peace of mind.
"Lord knight Tron Pentre is the most ruthless, relentless, unforgiving man I have ever encountered, with not an ounce of mercy in his blood but... I need not remind you that your brother was caught stealing apples from Pentre's orchards... and theft, no matter how small, is a crime, a crime punishable at the lord of the lands' discretion. Admittedly a sentencing of life imprisonment by night from sunset to sunrise and hard labour by day, sunrise to sunset, is most excessive for only a handful of stolen apples, not even two basket's worth. But... the law allows it and Sir Pentre enforces it."
"I am sure it will take you a lifetime of servitude to repay that debt and crime, if you ever manage to settle accounts, but... you should know that I am doing my best to ensure your brother is somewhat looked after even within the prison's walls" sighed Lancelot looking ahead
"It cannot be easy to follow Pentre's commands, to give up your lands and titles, offer years of service and the small debt remains practically intact... I have brought your grievance to the king but... he has sided with Pentre on this matter. Your younger brother is a thief, caught and condemned and lord Pentre is your liege, in his rights to pass any sentence of his choosing no matter how extortionate" muttered Lancelot feeling the bitter taste of defeat and feeling as though he had let down his friend
"I can only suggest that you keep your head down and follow his every whim and order, else your brother will be heavily punished for your smallest of lackings and shortcomings" warned Lancelot grimly knowing Pentre well enough
Alexei had stopped to untie horses, pulling them alongside as he walked. Dunsten, on the other hand, was really entertained with Nails’ behavior, “Relax, the lady’s not too picky.”
“Not at all.” Alexei grumbled.
Eric’s talk of their home seemed to make both Cordel and Iskra pleased, “Yes, hence the name Onyx for the bandit clan that resulted.” It’d been some time since Cordel interacted with someone like Eric, that wasn’t Alexei. He smiled, giving Pentre a pat on the shoulder, “What a fine nephew he is. You should be proud.”
Iskra watched him climb on her horse, before she did as well, “Pleasure’s mine kid, I won’t be doing any of that fancy talk...” she paused, mulling over her words for a moment, “Pentre will be fine. Once my brother and Glendale are returned.”
Cordel was fine with throwing Pentre over the back of his horse with a smug grin, “It’ll be a little bit of a rough ride.”
And then, the trio appeared. Alexei squinted at them, before a wild grin captured his face, “Did you really get him?! Goddess above- Iskra you madman!” He practically ran over, nearly pulling Iskra off her horse in a hug. Until, that is, he saw Eric. He frowned at the child, “Iskra...”
“Don’t worry about it.” She poked his forehead, waving him away before glancing at Dunsten and Nails, “more important...who’s that.”
Dunsten grinned, nudging the elf beside him, “A spunky one we met in the tavern! Helped take down the guards, even went at it with some dog in armor!” He winked at Nails.
Alexei was staring at Eric still, then Cordel, then Eric again, “We aren’t babysitters. Who told her this was a good idea?”
“That’s His Royal Highness Eric, Alexei.” Cordel shrugged, climbing on his horse and making sure Pentre was stable, “You’re a former Knight yourself, speak to him properly.” He tugged on his reigns, “Since you lot picked up the stray, Alexei, they’ll ride with you. We don’t have time to waste if we’d like Lev back in one piece.”
“We’ll speak later.” Iskra flashed Nails a smile, and a wink, before she let out a sharp whistle, digging her heels into her horse and urging it into the dark; Cordel, Abram and Layne followed suit, once again leaving the trio behind.
Alexei pressed his face in his hands, feeling the sting of a migraine creeping in. Tonight just couldn’t get worse, could it?
——————
“What’re they going on about?” The harpy whispered, watching the elven boy climb across the rooftop. The child craned his neck, listening in to their words.
“Armor man has a brother. Guess he and Mister Lev are in the same place.” He pursed his lips, before slowly climbing back over to the other, “Guess he got into trouble.”
The harpy grinned, his feathers fluffing up at the prospect of adventure- Onyx bandits did this all the time. Iskra hardly let him take Theo out (especially unsupervised, given their habits of getting into trouble), which was to say he wasn’t really supposed to have taken the child out with him. But this was just what a bandit did.
“If we follow them...” the elf whispered, climbing back on the others back and getting comfortable, and the other went to finish his sentence. Like two peas in a body, the brothers functioned as a unit.
“We can get Glendale and Lev, and maybe even leave that dog-faced Tron with a bruised ego and get Armor’s brother out!”
“Shut up.” The young boy on his back whispered, yanking on the others feathers- he had nearly been yelling. He winced, his voice dropping to whisper an apology. “Mom won’t like this.”
“Mom won’t know until it’s done.”
“Not at all.” Alexei grumbled.
Eric’s talk of their home seemed to make both Cordel and Iskra pleased, “Yes, hence the name Onyx for the bandit clan that resulted.” It’d been some time since Cordel interacted with someone like Eric, that wasn’t Alexei. He smiled, giving Pentre a pat on the shoulder, “What a fine nephew he is. You should be proud.”
Iskra watched him climb on her horse, before she did as well, “Pleasure’s mine kid, I won’t be doing any of that fancy talk...” she paused, mulling over her words for a moment, “Pentre will be fine. Once my brother and Glendale are returned.”
Cordel was fine with throwing Pentre over the back of his horse with a smug grin, “It’ll be a little bit of a rough ride.”
And then, the trio appeared. Alexei squinted at them, before a wild grin captured his face, “Did you really get him?! Goddess above- Iskra you madman!” He practically ran over, nearly pulling Iskra off her horse in a hug. Until, that is, he saw Eric. He frowned at the child, “Iskra...”
“Don’t worry about it.” She poked his forehead, waving him away before glancing at Dunsten and Nails, “more important...who’s that.”
Dunsten grinned, nudging the elf beside him, “A spunky one we met in the tavern! Helped take down the guards, even went at it with some dog in armor!” He winked at Nails.
Alexei was staring at Eric still, then Cordel, then Eric again, “We aren’t babysitters. Who told her this was a good idea?”
“That’s His Royal Highness Eric, Alexei.” Cordel shrugged, climbing on his horse and making sure Pentre was stable, “You’re a former Knight yourself, speak to him properly.” He tugged on his reigns, “Since you lot picked up the stray, Alexei, they’ll ride with you. We don’t have time to waste if we’d like Lev back in one piece.”
“We’ll speak later.” Iskra flashed Nails a smile, and a wink, before she let out a sharp whistle, digging her heels into her horse and urging it into the dark; Cordel, Abram and Layne followed suit, once again leaving the trio behind.
Alexei pressed his face in his hands, feeling the sting of a migraine creeping in. Tonight just couldn’t get worse, could it?
——————
“What’re they going on about?” The harpy whispered, watching the elven boy climb across the rooftop. The child craned his neck, listening in to their words.
“Armor man has a brother. Guess he and Mister Lev are in the same place.” He pursed his lips, before slowly climbing back over to the other, “Guess he got into trouble.”
The harpy grinned, his feathers fluffing up at the prospect of adventure- Onyx bandits did this all the time. Iskra hardly let him take Theo out (especially unsupervised, given their habits of getting into trouble), which was to say he wasn’t really supposed to have taken the child out with him. But this was just what a bandit did.
“If we follow them...” the elf whispered, climbing back on the others back and getting comfortable, and the other went to finish his sentence. Like two peas in a body, the brothers functioned as a unit.
“We can get Glendale and Lev, and maybe even leave that dog-faced Tron with a bruised ego and get Armor’s brother out!”
“Shut up.” The young boy on his back whispered, yanking on the others feathers- he had nearly been yelling. He winced, his voice dropping to whisper an apology. “Mom won’t like this.”
“Mom won’t know until it’s done.”
Glendale chuckled loudly as he heard of Sir Jalsinter's predicament.
"You could spent a lifetime being Pentre's dog lapping his feet, a slave at his beck and call and still never pay back what your brother stole... once indebted to him, you will never get out of it, even if you were to save his life and the king's life" assured Glendale "all you'd get is a pat in the back for your bravery, a small pouch of gold that he'll refuse as payment or take it away in the concept of interests over the due debt and continue toiling away as you are now, shackled by debt and the threat of brotherly harm" muttered Glendale growing more serious yet amicable
"...or... you could go entirely rogue and break him out of jail into a life of wandering. You'd be running and hiding like any other fugitive, but at least you and your brother would be together and safe, you can protect him far better than where he is now. Bet Pentre hasn't even allowed you a single visit in months or years...." trailed off Glendale knowing that much, if rumours ran true about the stone cold hearted knight.
"I know being an outlaw isn't the most comfortable lifestyle but you get to travel a lot, see much of the world and are hardly tied down to laws and rules any more... though you should know the arm of the law is very long and Pentre's arm... even longer for he stretches beyond the lawful... beyond the legal even.... to accomplish his revenge" cautioned Glendale now proposing to Jalsinter to turn to the dark side
"Look it mate... right now... it is just you and me against this too righteous knight... what say you if we just take him and trade him for your brother, uh? Failing that... you could bring me to your brother's cell... I am a good at picking locks... I can have your brother and myself out in a jiff if you cover our tracks.
Surely even Sir Lancelot du Lac, the most honourable and righteous knight of the realm, can see that what Tron the Terrible is doing to you is absolutely outrageous. He is being most unfair towards you and your brother.
Sir Lancelot is justice lover, he can hardly approve of locking up a man and working him to death for endless months and years under the lash over a handful of stolen apples... they'd have fallen and rotten anyways. Pentre is coercing you... an honourable knight of the realm into blind submission against your better judgement and knightly oaths by holding a threat of harming your brother... such blackmail can hardly be approved by Sir Lancelot.
If he is a true friend, he'd seek to help you out of this one, he wouldn't stop us three... you, me and your brother... from leaving this mess in the dead of night and right the wrongs once and for all. We can threaten him at the point of a sword... then he'll have an excuse to walk away scoff free and pass the blame on" tempted Glendale in a persuasive voice.
Glendale had heard the loud talking of such a familiar voice as was the harpy and his elven brother... and hoped his tempting offer and proposal would drown the pair of them and allow them to continue to remain unseen, not even gazing their direction so as to not give them away
"You could spent a lifetime being Pentre's dog lapping his feet, a slave at his beck and call and still never pay back what your brother stole... once indebted to him, you will never get out of it, even if you were to save his life and the king's life" assured Glendale "all you'd get is a pat in the back for your bravery, a small pouch of gold that he'll refuse as payment or take it away in the concept of interests over the due debt and continue toiling away as you are now, shackled by debt and the threat of brotherly harm" muttered Glendale growing more serious yet amicable
"...or... you could go entirely rogue and break him out of jail into a life of wandering. You'd be running and hiding like any other fugitive, but at least you and your brother would be together and safe, you can protect him far better than where he is now. Bet Pentre hasn't even allowed you a single visit in months or years...." trailed off Glendale knowing that much, if rumours ran true about the stone cold hearted knight.
"I know being an outlaw isn't the most comfortable lifestyle but you get to travel a lot, see much of the world and are hardly tied down to laws and rules any more... though you should know the arm of the law is very long and Pentre's arm... even longer for he stretches beyond the lawful... beyond the legal even.... to accomplish his revenge" cautioned Glendale now proposing to Jalsinter to turn to the dark side
"Look it mate... right now... it is just you and me against this too righteous knight... what say you if we just take him and trade him for your brother, uh? Failing that... you could bring me to your brother's cell... I am a good at picking locks... I can have your brother and myself out in a jiff if you cover our tracks.
Surely even Sir Lancelot du Lac, the most honourable and righteous knight of the realm, can see that what Tron the Terrible is doing to you is absolutely outrageous. He is being most unfair towards you and your brother.
Sir Lancelot is justice lover, he can hardly approve of locking up a man and working him to death for endless months and years under the lash over a handful of stolen apples... they'd have fallen and rotten anyways. Pentre is coercing you... an honourable knight of the realm into blind submission against your better judgement and knightly oaths by holding a threat of harming your brother... such blackmail can hardly be approved by Sir Lancelot.
If he is a true friend, he'd seek to help you out of this one, he wouldn't stop us three... you, me and your brother... from leaving this mess in the dead of night and right the wrongs once and for all. We can threaten him at the point of a sword... then he'll have an excuse to walk away scoff free and pass the blame on" tempted Glendale in a persuasive voice.
Glendale had heard the loud talking of such a familiar voice as was the harpy and his elven brother... and hoped his tempting offer and proposal would drown the pair of them and allow them to continue to remain unseen, not even gazing their direction so as to not give them away
(( rolling to see if Lancelot hits or not ))
1 - yes
2 - no
1 - yes
2 - no
rolled 1d2 and got a natural 1.
Sir Lancelot stopped the cart briefly as Glendale talked to the pair of them. Lancelot was anything but a fool, he would never lower his guard whilst on duty nor fall for the sweet adulation of a prisoner's talk, especially when said captive was his charge on his way to the most secure dungeons of the realm.
"Never listen to the syrens' songs... when it sounds too easy and too good to be true... it probably is. The city's gates are littered and adorned with traitors' heads... don't become another one among them" warned Lancelot. He wanted to prevent Jalsinter going astray over Glendale's tempting yet likely feasable remedy; he also immediately suspected that Glendale had ulterior motives than try to help a knight like Jalstinter out of the goodness of his heart and he was proven right.
Lancelot had barely finished talking to Jalsinter and listened to Glendale's talk when he heard the unusually loud voices of the harpy and elf which were speaking Glendale's name and Lev's and Tron's... it was all he needed to overhear to know they were being spied on, perhaps even ambushed, if not yet, very soon.
Without second thought or the least hesitation, Lancelot took up his hand ballista, which was always kept loaded and ready to be used and shot towards the direction of where the voices were coming, he shot at the bandits with the certainty that he would strike them down and injury them enough to be able to cripple and capture them right afterwards, mostly because he was a very well trained and skilled at ranged weaponry, be they daggers, knives, bow and arrows, ballistas and similar weapons.
"Surrender and you'll live..." barked Lancelot loudly jumping off the cart and making his way to the prey
"... if you refuse... my second shot will be fatal... and I rarely ever miss..." warned Lancelot in a firm sober dark voice, quickly reloading the ballista and aiming again towards the sound and voices of the spies, looking narrow-eyed towards that direction to spot them, seize them and bring them along to keep Glendale company inside the prisoner's cart.
"Never listen to the syrens' songs... when it sounds too easy and too good to be true... it probably is. The city's gates are littered and adorned with traitors' heads... don't become another one among them" warned Lancelot. He wanted to prevent Jalsinter going astray over Glendale's tempting yet likely feasable remedy; he also immediately suspected that Glendale had ulterior motives than try to help a knight like Jalstinter out of the goodness of his heart and he was proven right.
Lancelot had barely finished talking to Jalsinter and listened to Glendale's talk when he heard the unusually loud voices of the harpy and elf which were speaking Glendale's name and Lev's and Tron's... it was all he needed to overhear to know they were being spied on, perhaps even ambushed, if not yet, very soon.
Without second thought or the least hesitation, Lancelot took up his hand ballista, which was always kept loaded and ready to be used and shot towards the direction of where the voices were coming, he shot at the bandits with the certainty that he would strike them down and injury them enough to be able to cripple and capture them right afterwards, mostly because he was a very well trained and skilled at ranged weaponry, be they daggers, knives, bow and arrows, ballistas and similar weapons.
"Surrender and you'll live..." barked Lancelot loudly jumping off the cart and making his way to the prey
"... if you refuse... my second shot will be fatal... and I rarely ever miss..." warned Lancelot in a firm sober dark voice, quickly reloading the ballista and aiming again towards the sound and voices of the spies, looking narrow-eyed towards that direction to spot them, seize them and bring them along to keep Glendale company inside the prisoner's cart.
Pentre frowned, furious at the compliment
"Proud? That I allowed my only nephew and future king to fall into the hands of the worse possible rogues and is somewhat befriending outlaws?" snorted Pentre in disgust not about to give expletives in his highness presence. "If you but dare scratch him... I shall see you hang for it" grumbled Pentre clearly unhappy at the whole situation.
Cordel heaved Pentre up onto the horse, rather roughly, without the least care and draped him across it on his stomach, like a sack of potatoes. Immediately the world looked upside down, blood rushing to his head quickly and turning his face red. His vision blurred and was dizzy and nauseous as he felt himself secured to the horse with even more rope. By the time the man stepped away, his whole body had gone limp, for the tightness of the ropes was restricting the blood flowing to the limbs, causing his hands and feet to feel pins and needles, swealling and bruising a little.
Once the horse started to move, the ground sped by beneath his dangling head, he was able to somehow gauge the path and direction taken, though he was unable to do anything about the dirt, pebbles and dust tossed against his head, face and hair caused by the horses hooves, which forced him to keep his eyes and mouth shut for most of the journey.
Pentre tried to bury his head into the horse's belly for protection, to no avail, having to surrender to the inevitable whenever the strained neck was too painful and stiff to mantain the awkward concealing posture.
By the time the horse came to a halt, likely many hours later, Pentre would be in no condition or mood to face neither food nor drinks, unless commanded by his majesty.
"Proud? That I allowed my only nephew and future king to fall into the hands of the worse possible rogues and is somewhat befriending outlaws?" snorted Pentre in disgust not about to give expletives in his highness presence. "If you but dare scratch him... I shall see you hang for it" grumbled Pentre clearly unhappy at the whole situation.
Cordel heaved Pentre up onto the horse, rather roughly, without the least care and draped him across it on his stomach, like a sack of potatoes. Immediately the world looked upside down, blood rushing to his head quickly and turning his face red. His vision blurred and was dizzy and nauseous as he felt himself secured to the horse with even more rope. By the time the man stepped away, his whole body had gone limp, for the tightness of the ropes was restricting the blood flowing to the limbs, causing his hands and feet to feel pins and needles, swealling and bruising a little.
Once the horse started to move, the ground sped by beneath his dangling head, he was able to somehow gauge the path and direction taken, though he was unable to do anything about the dirt, pebbles and dust tossed against his head, face and hair caused by the horses hooves, which forced him to keep his eyes and mouth shut for most of the journey.
Pentre tried to bury his head into the horse's belly for protection, to no avail, having to surrender to the inevitable whenever the strained neck was too painful and stiff to mantain the awkward concealing posture.
By the time the horse came to a halt, likely many hours later, Pentre would be in no condition or mood to face neither food nor drinks, unless commanded by his majesty.
Eric allowed Iskra to spur the horse and lead him wherever she pleased, not that he was in a position to refuse nor give instructions anyways, though he did speak to her during the journey in a low calm voice, even if the others could not listen into the conversation with the loud noises of the horses trotting away and naying from time to time.
"The Sheriff of the noble house of Sokol only bore one child, a daughter, from his beloved wife who died in childbirth, may they both rest in peace. They had a young woman who committed treason against the crown by murdering the crown prince... her appointed fiancee. I am to assume the prisoner, Lev, being addressed as brother is merely an affectionate title rather than a blood bond, isn't it so my lady Sokol?" asked Eric quickly putting pieces together.
"If it is true, Lev is indeed born partly fey to a runaway slave that belonged to my family, and he holds a serious charge of having and using sorcery, a crime punishable by death by fire in your lands of Tirshina and death by drowning here in the southern realms. I am certain my father would never approve of pardoning such an accursed creature. Nonetheless I will consider your demand for his release, given your hospitality and present circumstances" mused Eric looking ahead without breaking stride
"I would safely assume that the noble upbringing from your earlier years have taught you the required etiquette and necessary manners to know your place and expectations when you stand in the presence of allied royalty, milady. I have placed myself, and my uncle, under your custody, I demand you uphold your family's oath of assistance and protection, now that your father is no longer among the living and cannot make good on that promise, and... I would appreciate you observe the required protocols when addressing one another, especially while establishing trades and treaties between us.
If you oblige and dress and act and speak like the noble woman you were born to be, I will... not only release the two prisoners that you seek... but also issue one royal pardon to anyone of your choosing, that your so called brother Lev may live without fear in this realm or your own kingdom.
This is not a demand of course, for I am in no position to place any upon the leader of the infamous Onyx clan, but it is a very reasonable proposal that will see your ladyship well rewarded accordingly. A token of my gratitude for catering to my wishes and comforts, if and when you decide to accept and comply, though you must choose wisely for I extend only one offer of a royal pardon, once only.
I wager that you could indulge me at least for one entire day during my stay, sunrise to sunrise? Surely you can manage that much... I suppose time will tell..." trailed off Eric looking ahead at the path they were following.
"Till then... Sir Iskra Sokol... you can expect from me the compliance you would receive from any outnumbered captive of yours. After all you hold levarage against me, you have my uncle in your grasp and your mutual hatred is well known even at the highest levels.
The long standing rumours of torture, murders, raids, pillaging, arson... are not without cause, clearly, so I don't intend to give you any reason to resort to such drastic, avoidable measures, if it can be helped." muttered Eric pursing his lips letting Iskra keep his proposal and wager in mind for now, or for later use.
Eric was most intrigued about the rumours that abound concerning the infamous King of the Onyx clan.
Some said Iskra was a peasant, an uneducated farmer's daughter, who went astray and became an outlawed assassin by following the misguided path lead by Johann, a renowned murderer. A man she scandalously married without her father's blessings and that she later murdered in cold blood... leading her into a dark path without salvation nor return.
Others firmly believed the orphaned woman was cursed and cast to a life of crime for lack of a proper upbringing, for lack of family and a good education, that she was a feral woman who grew up in the wilderness among wolves, which often accompanied her. She was barely human at all, which was why she revelled in others' misery and sowing death and misfortune wherever she went. An act of revenge and bitter jealousy against those who had all she never did. All she would never have.
Very very few ever dared to whisper or acknowledge that she was high born to the sheriff of the House of Sokol, a powerful nobleman who was second only to the king of Trishina, and best of friends to the monarch, which made her treason, murdering the crown prince, the royal she was engaged to marry, all the worse of a betrayal of trust and the most foul of deeds indeed.
Eric was a firm believer of the latter theory, having studied the case in great detail. He was quite prepared to push all boundaries and speak of such sensitive topics, taking a deadly gamble to learn the truth for himself. If she was indeed of noble upbringing, she may well take up the offer of acting the prim and proper, which ought to come rather effortlessly for a noble woman, given the right motivation, some day... some time. This was a unique opportunity, one that Eric suspected he would never again enjoy to learn facts about her, first hand.
His curiosity peaked all the more so when Cordel confirmed Alexei's knightly upbringing, which tallied with the rarely spoken of, yet known facts of the lady Iskra Sokol's early years and noble entourage.
"The Sheriff of the noble house of Sokol only bore one child, a daughter, from his beloved wife who died in childbirth, may they both rest in peace. They had a young woman who committed treason against the crown by murdering the crown prince... her appointed fiancee. I am to assume the prisoner, Lev, being addressed as brother is merely an affectionate title rather than a blood bond, isn't it so my lady Sokol?" asked Eric quickly putting pieces together.
"If it is true, Lev is indeed born partly fey to a runaway slave that belonged to my family, and he holds a serious charge of having and using sorcery, a crime punishable by death by fire in your lands of Tirshina and death by drowning here in the southern realms. I am certain my father would never approve of pardoning such an accursed creature. Nonetheless I will consider your demand for his release, given your hospitality and present circumstances" mused Eric looking ahead without breaking stride
"I would safely assume that the noble upbringing from your earlier years have taught you the required etiquette and necessary manners to know your place and expectations when you stand in the presence of allied royalty, milady. I have placed myself, and my uncle, under your custody, I demand you uphold your family's oath of assistance and protection, now that your father is no longer among the living and cannot make good on that promise, and... I would appreciate you observe the required protocols when addressing one another, especially while establishing trades and treaties between us.
If you oblige and dress and act and speak like the noble woman you were born to be, I will... not only release the two prisoners that you seek... but also issue one royal pardon to anyone of your choosing, that your so called brother Lev may live without fear in this realm or your own kingdom.
This is not a demand of course, for I am in no position to place any upon the leader of the infamous Onyx clan, but it is a very reasonable proposal that will see your ladyship well rewarded accordingly. A token of my gratitude for catering to my wishes and comforts, if and when you decide to accept and comply, though you must choose wisely for I extend only one offer of a royal pardon, once only.
I wager that you could indulge me at least for one entire day during my stay, sunrise to sunrise? Surely you can manage that much... I suppose time will tell..." trailed off Eric looking ahead at the path they were following.
"Till then... Sir Iskra Sokol... you can expect from me the compliance you would receive from any outnumbered captive of yours. After all you hold levarage against me, you have my uncle in your grasp and your mutual hatred is well known even at the highest levels.
The long standing rumours of torture, murders, raids, pillaging, arson... are not without cause, clearly, so I don't intend to give you any reason to resort to such drastic, avoidable measures, if it can be helped." muttered Eric pursing his lips letting Iskra keep his proposal and wager in mind for now, or for later use.
Eric was most intrigued about the rumours that abound concerning the infamous King of the Onyx clan.
Some said Iskra was a peasant, an uneducated farmer's daughter, who went astray and became an outlawed assassin by following the misguided path lead by Johann, a renowned murderer. A man she scandalously married without her father's blessings and that she later murdered in cold blood... leading her into a dark path without salvation nor return.
Others firmly believed the orphaned woman was cursed and cast to a life of crime for lack of a proper upbringing, for lack of family and a good education, that she was a feral woman who grew up in the wilderness among wolves, which often accompanied her. She was barely human at all, which was why she revelled in others' misery and sowing death and misfortune wherever she went. An act of revenge and bitter jealousy against those who had all she never did. All she would never have.
Very very few ever dared to whisper or acknowledge that she was high born to the sheriff of the House of Sokol, a powerful nobleman who was second only to the king of Trishina, and best of friends to the monarch, which made her treason, murdering the crown prince, the royal she was engaged to marry, all the worse of a betrayal of trust and the most foul of deeds indeed.
Eric was a firm believer of the latter theory, having studied the case in great detail. He was quite prepared to push all boundaries and speak of such sensitive topics, taking a deadly gamble to learn the truth for himself. If she was indeed of noble upbringing, she may well take up the offer of acting the prim and proper, which ought to come rather effortlessly for a noble woman, given the right motivation, some day... some time. This was a unique opportunity, one that Eric suspected he would never again enjoy to learn facts about her, first hand.
His curiosity peaked all the more so when Cordel confirmed Alexei's knightly upbringing, which tallied with the rarely spoken of, yet known facts of the lady Iskra Sokol's early years and noble entourage.
"Hey! Hey! What's that supposed to mean!?" Nails cried foul when Alexei and Dunsten both assured her that Iskra wasn't picky.
"You all implying I'm low hanging fruit or something!?" The elf's ego had been bruised! She made a pose, one foot in front of the other as her legs were crossed, fists on her hips, her movement fluid and practiced, it was half a dancing stance and half some kind of martial arts form.
"I happen to be prime dating material, you know?? You guys better start showing me some respect! I'll probably be ordering you around before you know it!" With a huff, Nails broke her pose and in one swift movement, she somersaulted sideways and sat right behind Dunsten in the saddle, hitching a ride with him. Naturally, she didn't own a horse, Nails was a city elf, she didn't know much about horse riding to begin with.
But she did know how to mooch off other people, and she was quite light and easy for a horse to carry. "Let's go!" She commanded Alexei and Dunsten, now sounding more sure of herself.
"You all implying I'm low hanging fruit or something!?" The elf's ego had been bruised! She made a pose, one foot in front of the other as her legs were crossed, fists on her hips, her movement fluid and practiced, it was half a dancing stance and half some kind of martial arts form.
"I happen to be prime dating material, you know?? You guys better start showing me some respect! I'll probably be ordering you around before you know it!" With a huff, Nails broke her pose and in one swift movement, she somersaulted sideways and sat right behind Dunsten in the saddle, hitching a ride with him. Naturally, she didn't own a horse, Nails was a city elf, she didn't know much about horse riding to begin with.
But she did know how to mooch off other people, and she was quite light and easy for a horse to carry. "Let's go!" She commanded Alexei and Dunsten, now sounding more sure of herself.
“I hate you.” Alexei grumbled, before tugging his horse forwards and heading off after them.
Iskra would’ve laughed outright at him if she wasn’t in the mood for humor. Her, in dresses, minding her manners among royalty? That was a joke if she’d ever heard one. But his comment about her father was news she hadn’t heard- she didn’t keep up with the politics of her homeland or the health of her father, “The old man kicked the bucket, did he?” She muttered, before going quiet again. She remained in thought for the majority of the ride, until they arrived at a wooded area. Abram let out a shrill whistle, to which there was no response- he tried again, and the same thing result, only the wind calling back.
Iskra climbed off her horse, walking forward into the clearing, towards a small house. If someone was in there, an arrow should’ve hit clean in her knee. But it didn’t. She frowned, but waved for the others inside, “Come on. Wyvern and Theo must be nearby.”
Cordel had taken to pulling Pentre off the horse and over his shoulder, “You’re positive they didn’t follow?”
“Positive is a loose term with those boys,” she grumbled, waving them into the house. Abram opened a door in the flooring, and once below, lit a lantern to fill the space with light. It was cold, but quite large- perhaps connected to a cave system, they seemed to favor these kinds of environments. Iskra sighed, taking her cloak off and tossing it over a chair, collapsing into it. Her father was dead, she FINALLY had Pentre in her grasp. And Lev, poor stupid Lev, had to have been caught up in all of this.
Cordel sat Pentre down in a chair, before sitting next to him, “I’d say the cards are in our favor, wouldn’t you?” He mused, patting Pentre’s head with a smile, “Now we decide where to go from here.”
“Eric,” Iskra folded her hands, leaning forward to stare in his eyes. He was a boy, but he had proven himself more than just a child. He at least deserved that respect from her, “What do you need right now? Food, drink?” Onyx wasn’t known for taking prisoners, but this was definitely an odd way to treat someone. She eyed Pentre cautiously- maybe she wanted to look better than those like him, hence her treatment. Or maybe she was just used to murdering those who caused issues, so deal with those she needed to keep alive was more of a challenge, “What about you, dog. Water?” She smirked, “Maybe a bath, your face is a bit dirty.”
Dunsten was busy showing Nails around the hideout, when he opened a door- and four blurs bolted out of the dark, in a mess of fur and growls, to inspect the foreign scents. One of them nearly jumped on Nails- common sense dictated it must be a dog, but all signs pointed to a grown wolf, jamming its nose into her stomach. The last sauntered out of the room, older and slow, inspecting Nails with strangely human eyes.
The other three had run towards the table, one of them climbing under to Eric’s side, sniffing at his clothes while the others climbed between Iskra and Pentre, cramming themselves in the way and inspecting Pentre. The bandit was unfazed, “They won’t bite. Not unless I say, or you act out of line. Or you start lookin tasty.” She flashed a grin.
—————
Wyvern let out a shriek- he had pushed his wings up quickly, to prevent Theo from being hit, but it hurt more than he had anticipated. The two boys toppled from the roof into a heap on the ground, Theo rubbing his head while Wyvern was frantically beating his wings, “You shot me?!”
The smaller of the two had to be no more than 7 or 8, with long hair and a heavy scarf that wrapped around his face to cover the markings on his cheeks and pointed ears. If those markings were seen, his identity as a foreign (and missing) prince would be clear- as long as Lancelot kept up with the politics of foreign kingdoms. But he wouldn’t pay much attention to the knight, scrambling over to the harpy and tugging on his wing, “Let me see.”
Wyvern’s eyes were filled with tears while the young boy inspected the wound, glaring furiously at Lancelot, “You shot me! You really shot me, what if you killed me?!” His voice gave away his age; the both of them were young, hardly able to call themselves ‘men’ of Onyx. But the crest on the hem of the scarf the elf wore was enough to signal that they clearly had something to do with them.
Iskra would’ve laughed outright at him if she wasn’t in the mood for humor. Her, in dresses, minding her manners among royalty? That was a joke if she’d ever heard one. But his comment about her father was news she hadn’t heard- she didn’t keep up with the politics of her homeland or the health of her father, “The old man kicked the bucket, did he?” She muttered, before going quiet again. She remained in thought for the majority of the ride, until they arrived at a wooded area. Abram let out a shrill whistle, to which there was no response- he tried again, and the same thing result, only the wind calling back.
Iskra climbed off her horse, walking forward into the clearing, towards a small house. If someone was in there, an arrow should’ve hit clean in her knee. But it didn’t. She frowned, but waved for the others inside, “Come on. Wyvern and Theo must be nearby.”
Cordel had taken to pulling Pentre off the horse and over his shoulder, “You’re positive they didn’t follow?”
“Positive is a loose term with those boys,” she grumbled, waving them into the house. Abram opened a door in the flooring, and once below, lit a lantern to fill the space with light. It was cold, but quite large- perhaps connected to a cave system, they seemed to favor these kinds of environments. Iskra sighed, taking her cloak off and tossing it over a chair, collapsing into it. Her father was dead, she FINALLY had Pentre in her grasp. And Lev, poor stupid Lev, had to have been caught up in all of this.
Cordel sat Pentre down in a chair, before sitting next to him, “I’d say the cards are in our favor, wouldn’t you?” He mused, patting Pentre’s head with a smile, “Now we decide where to go from here.”
“Eric,” Iskra folded her hands, leaning forward to stare in his eyes. He was a boy, but he had proven himself more than just a child. He at least deserved that respect from her, “What do you need right now? Food, drink?” Onyx wasn’t known for taking prisoners, but this was definitely an odd way to treat someone. She eyed Pentre cautiously- maybe she wanted to look better than those like him, hence her treatment. Or maybe she was just used to murdering those who caused issues, so deal with those she needed to keep alive was more of a challenge, “What about you, dog. Water?” She smirked, “Maybe a bath, your face is a bit dirty.”
Dunsten was busy showing Nails around the hideout, when he opened a door- and four blurs bolted out of the dark, in a mess of fur and growls, to inspect the foreign scents. One of them nearly jumped on Nails- common sense dictated it must be a dog, but all signs pointed to a grown wolf, jamming its nose into her stomach. The last sauntered out of the room, older and slow, inspecting Nails with strangely human eyes.
The other three had run towards the table, one of them climbing under to Eric’s side, sniffing at his clothes while the others climbed between Iskra and Pentre, cramming themselves in the way and inspecting Pentre. The bandit was unfazed, “They won’t bite. Not unless I say, or you act out of line. Or you start lookin tasty.” She flashed a grin.
—————
Wyvern let out a shriek- he had pushed his wings up quickly, to prevent Theo from being hit, but it hurt more than he had anticipated. The two boys toppled from the roof into a heap on the ground, Theo rubbing his head while Wyvern was frantically beating his wings, “You shot me?!”
The smaller of the two had to be no more than 7 or 8, with long hair and a heavy scarf that wrapped around his face to cover the markings on his cheeks and pointed ears. If those markings were seen, his identity as a foreign (and missing) prince would be clear- as long as Lancelot kept up with the politics of foreign kingdoms. But he wouldn’t pay much attention to the knight, scrambling over to the harpy and tugging on his wing, “Let me see.”
Wyvern’s eyes were filled with tears while the young boy inspected the wound, glaring furiously at Lancelot, “You shot me! You really shot me, what if you killed me?!” His voice gave away his age; the both of them were young, hardly able to call themselves ‘men’ of Onyx. But the crest on the hem of the scarf the elf wore was enough to signal that they clearly had something to do with them.
Eric looked at Iskra steadily, a little weary when the wolves approached by avoided any sudden gestures, the thought of food, water and rest clearly out of sight and mind for the time being.
"What do I need right now? A good map, if you happen to have one, else I will draw one myself. I need ink, quill, parchment, a table, a chair, an oil lamp, flask of oil to ensure light lasts through the night..." trailed of Eric
"If you did not know of your father's passing six months ago... I certainly have a very long night ahead to unravel this mess" muttered Eric grimly, quite surprised when Iskra appeared shocked at the news of her father's death, her reaction genuine enough to prove she had not known of this.
"Reports and informants assured us that it was the infamous Onyx clan who murdered the sheriff Sokol and took my father, king Lucas, captive... my mother, queen Morgana, of the noble House of Pentre, swears to have seen the thugs brandishing your very own coat of arms as they rode away with my father bundled like a sack of potatoes... The only reason she remained mostly unharmed is because she traded her clothing with that of a maid and her handmaiden was taken in her stead alongside my father and neither has been seen or heard of since, no ransom demanded either so far" informed Eric of Askia sober and serious
"Yet clearly you had no knowledge of any of this... thus I must go back to the beginning, to study more carefully and plan my next moves differently, perhaps I ought to retrace steps back to my father's place of abduction and your father's burial site and seek more clues" muttered Eric taking a deep breath, looking towards Pentre who looked in a sorry state, a couple stones having hit Pentre hard enough so as to wound the man on the head well beyond a deep scratch. Though Pentre disregarded the trickling blood and shook his head in disapproval, narrow eyed at the boy for speaking too much already, clearly forgetting he was delivering vital information to the enemy, the worse of them!
"As for my uncle... I shall need a bowl of clean water and a cloth to wash him, clean linen for bandages... garlic, sage, thyme or at least thyme which is the strongest of these three antiseptic and vinegar or alcohol to brew a tincture as well as a pot, a cooking pot. It is best to clean and treat injuries before infection sets in and, more importantly, your permission to treat your prisoner.... Sir... Iskra. It is every squire's duty to tend to their liege, their knight's needs, in defeat as well as in victory" muttered Eric clearly not minding Iskra's company at all, causing Pentre to scowl at the official title the prince was giving the outlaw and the far too detailed, extensive information regarding the quest Pentre and Eric were pursuing
"What do I need right now? A good map, if you happen to have one, else I will draw one myself. I need ink, quill, parchment, a table, a chair, an oil lamp, flask of oil to ensure light lasts through the night..." trailed of Eric
"If you did not know of your father's passing six months ago... I certainly have a very long night ahead to unravel this mess" muttered Eric grimly, quite surprised when Iskra appeared shocked at the news of her father's death, her reaction genuine enough to prove she had not known of this.
"Reports and informants assured us that it was the infamous Onyx clan who murdered the sheriff Sokol and took my father, king Lucas, captive... my mother, queen Morgana, of the noble House of Pentre, swears to have seen the thugs brandishing your very own coat of arms as they rode away with my father bundled like a sack of potatoes... The only reason she remained mostly unharmed is because she traded her clothing with that of a maid and her handmaiden was taken in her stead alongside my father and neither has been seen or heard of since, no ransom demanded either so far" informed Eric of Askia sober and serious
"Yet clearly you had no knowledge of any of this... thus I must go back to the beginning, to study more carefully and plan my next moves differently, perhaps I ought to retrace steps back to my father's place of abduction and your father's burial site and seek more clues" muttered Eric taking a deep breath, looking towards Pentre who looked in a sorry state, a couple stones having hit Pentre hard enough so as to wound the man on the head well beyond a deep scratch. Though Pentre disregarded the trickling blood and shook his head in disapproval, narrow eyed at the boy for speaking too much already, clearly forgetting he was delivering vital information to the enemy, the worse of them!
"As for my uncle... I shall need a bowl of clean water and a cloth to wash him, clean linen for bandages... garlic, sage, thyme or at least thyme which is the strongest of these three antiseptic and vinegar or alcohol to brew a tincture as well as a pot, a cooking pot. It is best to clean and treat injuries before infection sets in and, more importantly, your permission to treat your prisoner.... Sir... Iskra. It is every squire's duty to tend to their liege, their knight's needs, in defeat as well as in victory" muttered Eric clearly not minding Iskra's company at all, causing Pentre to scowl at the official title the prince was giving the outlaw and the far too detailed, extensive information regarding the quest Pentre and Eric were pursuing
Pentre glared at Iskra when she mocked him, calling him dog and offering him water as if he were a hound but kept his lips pursed, knowing better than to aggravate the woman.
He listened to Eric as he listed off the items he required and winced at his reckless nephew.
"Oh for pity's sake, Eric... could you not be more cautious about this, your highness? They are not worthy of trust, sire. They're naught but vulgar bandits, dastardly thieves, callous murderers, fiendish torturers, vile arsonists... We've no proof of these foul outlaws' innocence in all these events, no assurance nor certainty they did not take the king and still keep him imprisoned... or worse... they may have murdered him already.
It would not be the first royal to die at their hands. Iskra Sokol is well known for having murdered the crown prince of Trishina... her own fiancee. She is cold hearted enough to murder her father too. They are not friends of ours, or even allies, nephew.... on the contrary, they're nothing but murderous butchers that deserve to be hanged for all their endless lists of crimes" reminded Pentre firmly
He listened to Eric as he listed off the items he required and winced at his reckless nephew.
"Oh for pity's sake, Eric... could you not be more cautious about this, your highness? They are not worthy of trust, sire. They're naught but vulgar bandits, dastardly thieves, callous murderers, fiendish torturers, vile arsonists... We've no proof of these foul outlaws' innocence in all these events, no assurance nor certainty they did not take the king and still keep him imprisoned... or worse... they may have murdered him already.
It would not be the first royal to die at their hands. Iskra Sokol is well known for having murdered the crown prince of Trishina... her own fiancee. She is cold hearted enough to murder her father too. They are not friends of ours, or even allies, nephew.... on the contrary, they're nothing but murderous butchers that deserve to be hanged for all their endless lists of crimes" reminded Pentre firmly
Nails cackled maliciously at Alexei. The man was just sooo amusing to tease. She had half a mind to jump off Dunsten's horse and sit behind Alexei instead, but the elf decided not to push her limits too much.
As they arrived to the hide out, Nails was quite to step back and reach for her tonfas when she noticed a blur of movement coming towards her. "Whoa there! Down boy!" The elf wasn't particularly good with animals, she didn't know to ride a horse, nor she could tame wolves, she was strictly a city girl and a gang member. However, she decided against pulling out her tonfa and looking like a threat, these must be Iskra's wolves after all, and it would look poorly on her if she dislocated their jaw- even if it was in self defense.
Instead she held her hand out for the wolf to sniff her and get acquainted with her. Surely, they must realize she was a friend if she was hanging around with Dunsten and Alexei. "Easy, easy." She whispered to the wolf as she looked up towards the inside of the hide out to notice those inside. For now, she'd wait until her presence was noticed, it looked like there was important business going on here as well.
As they arrived to the hide out, Nails was quite to step back and reach for her tonfas when she noticed a blur of movement coming towards her. "Whoa there! Down boy!" The elf wasn't particularly good with animals, she didn't know to ride a horse, nor she could tame wolves, she was strictly a city girl and a gang member. However, she decided against pulling out her tonfa and looking like a threat, these must be Iskra's wolves after all, and it would look poorly on her if she dislocated their jaw- even if it was in self defense.
Instead she held her hand out for the wolf to sniff her and get acquainted with her. Surely, they must realize she was a friend if she was hanging around with Dunsten and Alexei. "Easy, easy." She whispered to the wolf as she looked up towards the inside of the hide out to notice those inside. For now, she'd wait until her presence was noticed, it looked like there was important business going on here as well.
Lancelot looked down at the angered youths
"I only shot to maim, not to kill... and I rarely ever miss so you wouldn't have been killed... though it hurts when you get hit... It is meant to in ordere to stop you from hurting anyone else or trying to run away. But... you are a bandit, young man, a criminal with the Onyx clan's crest on you. Surely you have been told that they are traitors?
Outlaws like them often get shot at and killed, or hanged, or arrested and locked up for a very long time, sometimes forever" pointed out Lancelot as a matter of fact, lowering by the pair of youths, his knightly honour compelling to assist the wounded, the weak, the helpless, children, women, elderly and so many more it would take time to list it all out.
"Still, you are only a child, you should have come forward sooner... if I had seen you two were but children, I would not have released the bolt, I would have just taken you in, unharmed. Here... let me take a look and treat your wound. It will sting a little but it will feel better once it is cleaned and well wrapped up" muttered Lancelot reaching into his travel bag to fetch healing supplies.
"Is this crest yours? did you find it? or did you take it from others?" asked Lancelot wanting to find out if these children were really Onyx or just playing pretend
"Are you travelling with that prisoner? Is he your father or carer perhaps?" quizzed Lancelot further pointing at Glendale, motioning for Jalsinter to come and lend a hand in arresting Theo and bringing him to the prisoner cart, whilst Lancelot worked on Wyvern.
Harpies were quite unusual, as were elves for the matter, but he acted as though these two were a pair of normal children, without drawing excessive attention or suspicion upon them.
"Don't worry... you'll live and you will make a full recovery. I will see to it that you get better. A week resting in bed still, with some chicken broth and you'll be as good as new" soothed Lancelot in a soft, caring, fatherly, gentle voice, feeling pity for the pair of stray runts, and growing quiet to focus on the task at hand and to let the children answer his questions and speak
"I only shot to maim, not to kill... and I rarely ever miss so you wouldn't have been killed... though it hurts when you get hit... It is meant to in ordere to stop you from hurting anyone else or trying to run away. But... you are a bandit, young man, a criminal with the Onyx clan's crest on you. Surely you have been told that they are traitors?
Outlaws like them often get shot at and killed, or hanged, or arrested and locked up for a very long time, sometimes forever" pointed out Lancelot as a matter of fact, lowering by the pair of youths, his knightly honour compelling to assist the wounded, the weak, the helpless, children, women, elderly and so many more it would take time to list it all out.
"Still, you are only a child, you should have come forward sooner... if I had seen you two were but children, I would not have released the bolt, I would have just taken you in, unharmed. Here... let me take a look and treat your wound. It will sting a little but it will feel better once it is cleaned and well wrapped up" muttered Lancelot reaching into his travel bag to fetch healing supplies.
"Is this crest yours? did you find it? or did you take it from others?" asked Lancelot wanting to find out if these children were really Onyx or just playing pretend
"Are you travelling with that prisoner? Is he your father or carer perhaps?" quizzed Lancelot further pointing at Glendale, motioning for Jalsinter to come and lend a hand in arresting Theo and bringing him to the prisoner cart, whilst Lancelot worked on Wyvern.
Harpies were quite unusual, as were elves for the matter, but he acted as though these two were a pair of normal children, without drawing excessive attention or suspicion upon them.
"Don't worry... you'll live and you will make a full recovery. I will see to it that you get better. A week resting in bed still, with some chicken broth and you'll be as good as new" soothed Lancelot in a soft, caring, fatherly, gentle voice, feeling pity for the pair of stray runts, and growing quiet to focus on the task at hand and to let the children answer his questions and speak
Jalsinter listened patiently to Lancelot’s reassurance, pushing the visor of his helmet up so that he might better inspect the parcel the other knight provided him. The large knight frowned as he was reminded just what his brother allegedly did. He knew that it was a lie, a tactic from Tron to frame his younger brother. Atoli may have seemed desperate; he always had a nervous disposition, after all. But he was no thief. Atoli was more than capable of hunting, after those years when the brothers were largely on their own. Jal would be a little more convinced if they’d accused him of poaching, but charging the boy with the theft of a mere apple made the elder brother’s blood boil. It still did, the more he thought about it. But what was he to expect? It wasn’t about who Atoli was, or what he was capable of doing. It was about taking away everything that the brothers had left. Making certain that they were not a threat to Pentre’s power hungry territorial expansions anymore.
The knight had cast his eyes down, not responding to Glendale’s propositions at first. The weasel of a man had much to say anyhow, and despite his reservations in the tavern Jal was hungry. He bit and chewed on some of the food, grunting as Lancelot warned him about the thief’s treacherous words. “I will not lie,” He started, once the food in his mouth was swallowed. “It would be most tempting to betray my Lord, after all he has done. But I am not a man lead by his whims alone, Glendale. I swore an oath, and I will abide by it.” Jalsinter resolved, somewhat bitterly. To those such as Lancelot, fealty and chivalry were qualities of a worthy knight; something to be proud of. To him, though, his loyalty and stubborn honor were a ball and chain. In a way he envied those like Glendale; living without such scruples had to be easier… when one wasn’t bound in the back of a cart, that is.
Jal was still somewhat focused on his food and the conversation when his knightly companion whipped out his ballista and loosed a bolt at a couple of lurking ‘bandits’ in the trees. His head shot up and he squinted, just making out the descending forms of the two right before they hit the ground. He tensed and set aside his food for the time being as Lancelot approached, but he did not follow du Lac out of caution. It was possible that this was a diversion to reclaim their charge, after all. Once he heard their voices he blurted out, surprised. “…They’re children.” Was this some sort of joke, a cheap shot, or did those two genuinely sneak away from the adult bandits to spy on dangerous enemies?
The armored knight grimaced and dropped his visor back over his face. Lancelot's gesture for him to approach did not go unnoticed, so Jal begrudgingly stepped away from Glendale to approach young Theo. The two were so small, but leaving them to deal with this crisis themselves was surely worse than taking them into custody. "Come along then, child." He spoke softly, also hoping not to scare the two.
The knight had cast his eyes down, not responding to Glendale’s propositions at first. The weasel of a man had much to say anyhow, and despite his reservations in the tavern Jal was hungry. He bit and chewed on some of the food, grunting as Lancelot warned him about the thief’s treacherous words. “I will not lie,” He started, once the food in his mouth was swallowed. “It would be most tempting to betray my Lord, after all he has done. But I am not a man lead by his whims alone, Glendale. I swore an oath, and I will abide by it.” Jalsinter resolved, somewhat bitterly. To those such as Lancelot, fealty and chivalry were qualities of a worthy knight; something to be proud of. To him, though, his loyalty and stubborn honor were a ball and chain. In a way he envied those like Glendale; living without such scruples had to be easier… when one wasn’t bound in the back of a cart, that is.
Jal was still somewhat focused on his food and the conversation when his knightly companion whipped out his ballista and loosed a bolt at a couple of lurking ‘bandits’ in the trees. His head shot up and he squinted, just making out the descending forms of the two right before they hit the ground. He tensed and set aside his food for the time being as Lancelot approached, but he did not follow du Lac out of caution. It was possible that this was a diversion to reclaim their charge, after all. Once he heard their voices he blurted out, surprised. “…They’re children.” Was this some sort of joke, a cheap shot, or did those two genuinely sneak away from the adult bandits to spy on dangerous enemies?
The armored knight grimaced and dropped his visor back over his face. Lancelot's gesture for him to approach did not go unnoticed, so Jal begrudgingly stepped away from Glendale to approach young Theo. The two were so small, but leaving them to deal with this crisis themselves was surely worse than taking them into custody. "Come along then, child." He spoke softly, also hoping not to scare the two.
Lancelot nodded in gratitude at Sir Jalsinter, leaving the young elven boy in his hands, knowing Theo would be safely taken to the cart.
"Runaway children means that the adults are likely lurking nearby, or at least, very likely to be coming back for them and they will be anything but pleased to see us. I am going to summon reinforcements, a few more knights and guards to escort us the rest of the journey. After all, there is safety in numbers, especially when we are talking about well trained and disciplined knights and royal guards. Sir Merthyr with his knights were patrolling the streets not too far from here also Prodius and his guards are on duty nearby here as well. It will give them all a break from the daily routine at the city if we take them with us until we reach the dungeons" muttered Lancelot gazing weary all around him for any sign of Onyx adult bandits
He knew very well, as much as Jals did, that they could be spying on them, using the kids as distraction to force them to lower their guard before they struck. It felt quite a distasteful low move to Lancelot personally but he could not deny it was definitely an effective one, for no knight who took pride on such title and rank would ever ignore or abandon children to their fate, even if they were but criminals in the making or accomplished ones already.
He briefly signalled to Prodius and Merthyr a well known gesture to alert them and make them aware services were being immediately required, He then quickly returned his focus on the harpy boy, on the injuries and treatment needed. He would lock him up in the cart, of course, but not until he was satisfied the injury was well taken care of. He was no Pentre after all, but of a much higher morals and calibre which also meant a greater burden
"Runaway children means that the adults are likely lurking nearby, or at least, very likely to be coming back for them and they will be anything but pleased to see us. I am going to summon reinforcements, a few more knights and guards to escort us the rest of the journey. After all, there is safety in numbers, especially when we are talking about well trained and disciplined knights and royal guards. Sir Merthyr with his knights were patrolling the streets not too far from here also Prodius and his guards are on duty nearby here as well. It will give them all a break from the daily routine at the city if we take them with us until we reach the dungeons" muttered Lancelot gazing weary all around him for any sign of Onyx adult bandits
He knew very well, as much as Jals did, that they could be spying on them, using the kids as distraction to force them to lower their guard before they struck. It felt quite a distasteful low move to Lancelot personally but he could not deny it was definitely an effective one, for no knight who took pride on such title and rank would ever ignore or abandon children to their fate, even if they were but criminals in the making or accomplished ones already.
He briefly signalled to Prodius and Merthyr a well known gesture to alert them and make them aware services were being immediately required, He then quickly returned his focus on the harpy boy, on the injuries and treatment needed. He would lock him up in the cart, of course, but not until he was satisfied the injury was well taken care of. He was no Pentre after all, but of a much higher morals and calibre which also meant a greater burden
Eric stopped talking and pacing and turned to Pentre to give him his fullest attentions for all the wrong reasons. He frowned at the lord knight that had sworn him fealty earlier in the quest, looking at Pentre narrow-eyed, arms crossed along the chest, with a serious expression to his face that made it clear that his resolve was firmly set, the brow furrowed and growing deeper.
Eric kept his eyes fixed on the bound lord knight with a steady gaze on him, his disapproval clearly obvious, for the man had dared to question the prince's abilities, capabilities, decisions and chosen course of action.
The pursed lips and unflinching stare did make Pentre back down rather quickly. The ruthless black knight knew he had to appease the youth before the boy decided to demote him on a whim to a mere advisor, there and then, or dismiss him from duty altogether. He knew Eric could and would do so. Pentre would not be the first to fall at the boy's sword and disfavour, nor the last, and he certainly didn't want to be the next either.
"I had a very expensive, precise and detailed map made specifically for this journey, your highness. It is tucked away under my boot, sire. I always carry one to mark down findings of note and locations of importance. The right one... not the left... the other carries questionnable substances" confessed Pentre straightening up and becoming still, staring at his toes to indicate to Eric where it was kept.
Eric came over decidedly, lifting the man's right foot without qualms, removing the footware and turning it upside down. He slid the heel off it, after a couple of attempts, using increasing brute force to prey it apart and retrieve a small, sturdy, black leather pouch which had been concealed inside a compartment that had been carved inside the sole of the boot.
The pouch itself contained a priceless map, neatly folded many times to make it fit inside the case, and the map revealed all sorts of locations and places that many maps failed to have, including an altered political border aligned to Pentre's land grabbing intentions concerning the fiefdom of Windobrig.
At the back of said map there were many more markings and notes, names of targets, names of places, hideouts and safehouses, names and locations of allies and of more than questionnable contacts Pentre was liaising with as well as other sensitive data, though Eric had given the writings on the back little importance for now, his mind set on the task at hand... treating Pentre's injuries, securing their release and finding his father, king Lucas of Askia, to return the king to the throne before enemies got hold of his absence and plunged Askia into an all out war the kingdom was rather ill prepared for... if it were not for Pentre who was... presently... occupied on other lesser affairs.
Eric kept his eyes fixed on the bound lord knight with a steady gaze on him, his disapproval clearly obvious, for the man had dared to question the prince's abilities, capabilities, decisions and chosen course of action.
The pursed lips and unflinching stare did make Pentre back down rather quickly. The ruthless black knight knew he had to appease the youth before the boy decided to demote him on a whim to a mere advisor, there and then, or dismiss him from duty altogether. He knew Eric could and would do so. Pentre would not be the first to fall at the boy's sword and disfavour, nor the last, and he certainly didn't want to be the next either.
"I had a very expensive, precise and detailed map made specifically for this journey, your highness. It is tucked away under my boot, sire. I always carry one to mark down findings of note and locations of importance. The right one... not the left... the other carries questionnable substances" confessed Pentre straightening up and becoming still, staring at his toes to indicate to Eric where it was kept.
Eric came over decidedly, lifting the man's right foot without qualms, removing the footware and turning it upside down. He slid the heel off it, after a couple of attempts, using increasing brute force to prey it apart and retrieve a small, sturdy, black leather pouch which had been concealed inside a compartment that had been carved inside the sole of the boot.
The pouch itself contained a priceless map, neatly folded many times to make it fit inside the case, and the map revealed all sorts of locations and places that many maps failed to have, including an altered political border aligned to Pentre's land grabbing intentions concerning the fiefdom of Windobrig.
At the back of said map there were many more markings and notes, names of targets, names of places, hideouts and safehouses, names and locations of allies and of more than questionnable contacts Pentre was liaising with as well as other sensitive data, though Eric had given the writings on the back little importance for now, his mind set on the task at hand... treating Pentre's injuries, securing their release and finding his father, king Lucas of Askia, to return the king to the throne before enemies got hold of his absence and plunged Askia into an all out war the kingdom was rather ill prepared for... if it were not for Pentre who was... presently... occupied on other lesser affairs.
The longer Eric spoke, the more Iskra’s expression darkened. Cordel settled in beside him, peering over his shoulder at the map, “Quality work. You say it was Onyx, hm?”
Alexei had the same look on his face as Iskra, his eyes darting between her and Eric. There was a piece neither of them wanted to connect.
Until Pentre spoke, the bandit was the picture of someone quietly minding their temper- in a flash she was on her feet, striking his cheek with the back of her hand. Her face was red with anger, and then composure returned- “Sorry.” She grumbled towards Eric, rubbing her knuckles. More sorry to HIM, than Pentre. She stared at the knight with nothing short of hatred in her eyes, “I would never dare kill my father. He was a respectable man, albeit too nice for his own good. Far more noble than scum like you and I. And he most certainly would not have hesitated in killing me or my men if I came for his head. He may have been old but he was a powerful man- all of the men from the north are. Can’t survive with just a pretty face- not like your is doing you any good here.” She threw in the last comment like an afterthought, mumbled under her breath.
“But if he showed up...” Alexei warned, rubbing his temples. Cordel nodded, before looking back to Eric.
“I’m afraid the only man who may have access to Onyx cloaks is a very... well-known enemy of ours...Iskra had killed him.” The seamstress who sewed them was an old friend of Alexei’s, and the idea that perhaps someone had gotten ahold of her made him sick.
“Buried him beneath the ice.” She snarled, settling back down in a chair, while one of her wolves tucked its head in her lap. Abram was moving around again, gathering the other items Eric had requested.
“But he and Iskra suffer a very particular curse-“ Cordel cast a suspicious glance at Pentre, “One that I’m afraid can’t be discussed with present company.
Nevertheless, the man would’ve been about six feet tall, well built with dark hair and tan skin. He travels with a large grey wolf and if he bore the Onyx crest, it would’ve been on a red cloak, not a blue one. That used to be our color.”
“If Johann’s alive, y’don think he’s gonna come back for Iskra, huh?” Dunsten finally pulled up a chair, patting the space next to him for Nails to settle down between him and Iskra, “But if he’s taken the King, what in gods name does he have planned?” The wolf that had spared his attention for Nails seemed to appreciate the affection, before sauntering over to the table and settling by Dunsten and the open seat.
Iskra had taken to stroking the ears of the wolf near her, looking at the wood grain of the table. Here she was, once again, roped into being the good guy. Saving the King? Helping the crown prince? It was all looking like some bad tragic play, and she only hoped it ended better than how it was playing out. Once he was sure she wouldn’t add anything, Cordel resumed speaking, “If it’s even him. Johann isn’t an easy man to mistake for someone else... Did your mother say anything about the leader?”
——————
“A gift.” Theo mumbled, standing and moving closer to Jalsinter, “It gets cold in the winter. Mother said it’d keep me safe.”
Wyvern sat patiently, sniffling while Lancelot inspected the wound, “My father is no human,” He pursed his lips, “We just came to see if we could help. Mom and the adults are always taking care of us, but we can hold our own, right Theo?”
The boy nodded, flipping the end of his scarf over in his hands- he understood the game. Careful words, that was how he had always played it, “Men should know how to hold their own.” Funny, coming from someone like him. He reached into his pocket, holding out a slim dirk, “He doesn’t carry weapons. Here’s mine.” It shined, and looked like it had been carefully taken care of- but never used. Theo watched as the other knights arrived, giving them a small wave and a muffled ‘good evening’ from under his scarf.
Alexei had the same look on his face as Iskra, his eyes darting between her and Eric. There was a piece neither of them wanted to connect.
Until Pentre spoke, the bandit was the picture of someone quietly minding their temper- in a flash she was on her feet, striking his cheek with the back of her hand. Her face was red with anger, and then composure returned- “Sorry.” She grumbled towards Eric, rubbing her knuckles. More sorry to HIM, than Pentre. She stared at the knight with nothing short of hatred in her eyes, “I would never dare kill my father. He was a respectable man, albeit too nice for his own good. Far more noble than scum like you and I. And he most certainly would not have hesitated in killing me or my men if I came for his head. He may have been old but he was a powerful man- all of the men from the north are. Can’t survive with just a pretty face- not like your is doing you any good here.” She threw in the last comment like an afterthought, mumbled under her breath.
“But if he showed up...” Alexei warned, rubbing his temples. Cordel nodded, before looking back to Eric.
“I’m afraid the only man who may have access to Onyx cloaks is a very... well-known enemy of ours...Iskra had killed him.” The seamstress who sewed them was an old friend of Alexei’s, and the idea that perhaps someone had gotten ahold of her made him sick.
“Buried him beneath the ice.” She snarled, settling back down in a chair, while one of her wolves tucked its head in her lap. Abram was moving around again, gathering the other items Eric had requested.
“But he and Iskra suffer a very particular curse-“ Cordel cast a suspicious glance at Pentre, “One that I’m afraid can’t be discussed with present company.
Nevertheless, the man would’ve been about six feet tall, well built with dark hair and tan skin. He travels with a large grey wolf and if he bore the Onyx crest, it would’ve been on a red cloak, not a blue one. That used to be our color.”
“If Johann’s alive, y’don think he’s gonna come back for Iskra, huh?” Dunsten finally pulled up a chair, patting the space next to him for Nails to settle down between him and Iskra, “But if he’s taken the King, what in gods name does he have planned?” The wolf that had spared his attention for Nails seemed to appreciate the affection, before sauntering over to the table and settling by Dunsten and the open seat.
Iskra had taken to stroking the ears of the wolf near her, looking at the wood grain of the table. Here she was, once again, roped into being the good guy. Saving the King? Helping the crown prince? It was all looking like some bad tragic play, and she only hoped it ended better than how it was playing out. Once he was sure she wouldn’t add anything, Cordel resumed speaking, “If it’s even him. Johann isn’t an easy man to mistake for someone else... Did your mother say anything about the leader?”
——————
“A gift.” Theo mumbled, standing and moving closer to Jalsinter, “It gets cold in the winter. Mother said it’d keep me safe.”
Wyvern sat patiently, sniffling while Lancelot inspected the wound, “My father is no human,” He pursed his lips, “We just came to see if we could help. Mom and the adults are always taking care of us, but we can hold our own, right Theo?”
The boy nodded, flipping the end of his scarf over in his hands- he understood the game. Careful words, that was how he had always played it, “Men should know how to hold their own.” Funny, coming from someone like him. He reached into his pocket, holding out a slim dirk, “He doesn’t carry weapons. Here’s mine.” It shined, and looked like it had been carefully taken care of- but never used. Theo watched as the other knights arrived, giving them a small wave and a muffled ‘good evening’ from under his scarf.
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