GDRP - Book One: Norrburahki

Blushing badly, Thesia nodded.
"I...felt good...like I was wanted." She said quietly. "Like...I wasn't a slave..."

"Do we not do enough?" Vressin asked honestly, a little surprised at the wording. He hand stopped massaging, and just rested over her cross.

"You do fine...just...I felt...good. Like I was a princess." She said softly.

"So you want to feel like royalty then." He said, idly wondering in his head why he cared so much about this.

"Not exactly...just...being cared for...touched gently...held close...things no one has done for me...that's what I want..."
She sighed.

Vressin chuckled again. "Don't worry. I'm sure something could be arranged."

"Wh-what?" She stuttered out, confused.

What was Vressin saying?

Vressin raised an eyebrow again "What? I said I'm sure something could be arranged. Is your hearing going bad, young one?" He said almost jokingly.

She looked at her feet.
"I...I am merely surprised...you're ok with...it all..." she finiahed somewhat lamely.

Vressin chuckled again. "Why wouldn't I be? I never said it'd be other people." A quick reach into one of his armor parts and out came the bar of iron he had been gnawing on yesterday. He shaved off a piece of it fairly noisily and just began to chew the metal, his other hand resuming it's massaging motions.

"WHAAAT?!" she said with such surprise she flinched.

She was confused, slightly embarassed, and slightly scared of his intentions.

Vressin let go, confused. "What?" He just kept walking, chewing his iron bar.

"Uh... Vressian. I don't think... uh." He turned his head, then spoke in Standur. "You're joking, right?"

Vressin looks over at Trundum. "What? Don't humans like massages from their close friends?" he said in Common before talking in Strandurr, genuinely confused. "That's what happened right?"

"N...not...exactly..." thesia didn't look up. "Th...they bathed me...g-groomed...and k-kissed me..." she said softly.

"Okay, so, besides the kissing and bathing, which obviously i wouldn't do, what am I missing here?" Said Vressin, looking around between the two of them.

"...nothing."
She shook a bit. "I didn't do anything wrong...right?"

"No, no, you didn't do anything wrong." Vressin looked at Trundum again extremely confused.

Thesia nodded, then hugged herself and kept going.

Vressin mouthed "What?" in Strandurr to Trundum before continuing the walk, no longer holding onto Thesia in case she was going to get after him more.

Nyoka reached the area he was told to go the next day. He joined the group.

As Thesia's group arrived, the girl looked around.
"Wh...where are we going from here?" She asked a guard.

The Capital Steelbyziar, Mehhid al-Darim, had been leading this group for a while now. Looking over his shoulder at the young Otaizine girl, he spoke up cheerfully, trying to have his happiness rub off on the others, even if only a little.

"As you already know, we're heading to the Gatehouse to rally you all with Ljcien's main force. It's down the Main Street, a straight walk. You'll be able to see them from the front doors of the Grand Hóuis."

He wasn't wrong, either. And as the group came up to the large doors that led out into the streets of Cantai, Mehhid turned to face the people behind him, the guards taking point as they kept the newly hired soldiers in close. He looked them over, sinking a little inside, knowing full well what would befall these kinds of people. He had faith that few of them would return.

"The guards awaiting you outside will lead you to the reinforcements. It'll be a straight walk, through the central square and down to the gate. The streets are a little busy, but you wont have any chances to escape, so no funny ideas. My men and I will be returning to guard the Governor. I wish you all the best. I hope that you live long enough to return here one day."

And with that, the doors opened, and the bright light of the sun poured in, as the Capital Steelbyziar walked out and stretched, before stepping aside for the people, to let them move on to their new escorts. These men were heading off to war themselves, and they were all much younger than the guards in the Grand Hóuis. They'd be better company.

As the last one left, Mehhid closed the doors slowly, latching them loudly, as the doors locked up tight.

The new guards looked down at the people, the Ljnn, the two Standur, the Maeyr, and the many Otaizines.

"Weird group you guys are." The soldier speaking brought up the rear. He was the youngest, but also the biggest, and his voice wasn't as smooth or calm as most soldiers.
"Never seen mercenaries that look like they'd be broken by a slight wind." As he said this, he nudged Ast's behind with his knees, pushing the man forward harshly, smirking.

Nádúiranam
Cantai
Grand Hóuis, leaving Cantai

Nádúiranam's conversation with the pointy-eared one had been interrupted by a guard, pushing them down the hall, giving Nádúiranam the impression that they were not supposed to be having idle conversation. They were led down a hall, with some walking conversation, until they left the large temple-like building where they had stayed the night. Nádúiranam walked forward, following up the rear of the group.

When they left the building proper, Nádúiranam was kneed in the ass. Hopping forward a bit, he looked back at the large man who had hit him. Nádúiranam didn't say a word, only gave the man a brief glare, and returned his eyes to the front. Walking faster to move away from the would-be instigator. Nádúiranam moved to the front of the group, and walked down the main-street.

He was not eager to go to a war that was not his but, by the gods, he wasn't going to sit around and wait to be ferried around like a mule being led to water. Though he was not a warrior, he knew how to defend himself when it came to physical excursions. Though he was more trained in cabalistic fighting. The use of magic. Which meant, to him, he would be useless in a real fight. However, he had the dagger that Rúcina gave him. A short blade that he could utilize if pressed.

As he strode forward, ahead of the group, the town around him began to come to life, people doing their daily chores and otherwise going about their lives. Nádúiranam was slightly bewildered that so many people lived in one place. In his hometown, they had maybe 50 people living there. In the village he grew up in, there was maybe 70 people. Not that many people would know that, since the island was labelled as "deserted" (Not that Nádúiranam knew) on most maps. A wild and untamed island, that had many storms that helped conceal the few people who lived their.

Cejiso spoke to his affiliates silently, conversing with them as they cleaned and prepared his horse, fitting the large leather saddle and saddle bags to the fine creature, combing his mane, and finally turning to face Cejiso.
"We've given you a weeks supply of food, and some water. You and he should be fine."

The Ljnn nodded as they made way to deal with other concerns, and he mounted up onto the horse, holding the reigns gently, smiling and petting the fair white horses mane. This steed, though it had no name, was perhaps Cejiso's favourite - strong, fast, and filled with stamina, it was the same horse he had rode into Cantai on. He rarely took it out these days, but this moment... It felt right. He turned his head, and eyed the slowly growing crowd of soldiers. These were mostly the mercenaries or the younger newer soldiers; the rest were out front of the city by now, forming rank and files, preparing to move out.

Cejiso, as the leader of this force, apparently had to make some sort of speech.

"Men of Halid, of Lasyra, of Niy, and far beyond, you have made the harshest choice. You were not asked nor requested, you chose to stand up, brace yourselves, and join in this push. You ride out now not for glory nor fame, and you should not expect it upon your returns. We ride out now to war, against a foe older than any of us, and nearly as old as the road you stand upon. The Undead await us, their armies are moving, and we will meet them, on the battlefield, in the cities, and in their own filthy holes! We ride now to join our brethren, and finally be rid of this dark shadow that has loomed over us. You have all said enough is enough, and now is the time for their anarchy to end!"

The crowd cheered, throwing their hands into the air as Cejiso spoke.

"Ride now, with me, and we will soon be rid of the Undead Plight."

With that, the force made it's way out of the city, and in the space of a few minutes, some one thousand mercenaries were organized into units, forming four forces of two hundred and fifty each. Their arms and armour returned to them before hand, they stood out from the main Cantai force, with all manner of peoples and weapons and suits amongst them. And yet, somehow, they were terrifying to look upon.

The officers and commanders made final checks as Cejiso rode through the ranks, checking each soldier personally. He stopped, eventually, as he came to see the few he recognized. They'd been walked into the gate crowd just before he began speaking, and now they were here, in the main force. Not split up, miraculously. The front line of Aluca, the third force of mercenaries that had been united and organized.

"Don't fret or fear."
Though he was saying this to the group, he was speaking directly to the young, former slave. She was dressed still in fine clothes, though they bore a much greater combat readiness to them now. He recognized them well.
"This walk will do you all well. We're going to be moving till the sun is past setting - a day and a half trip at most. Then you'll all be able to rest. Then..."
He looked to Thesia, before turning and trotting off.
"Then best of luck to you all."

Thesia was scared. When Ceijso decided to speak directly to her, it just made her shake. She could have stayed behind. Maybe they'd have let her stay with Cemil and Ishin.
But no...she couldn't. She had to go on.

They were her friends. She couldn't just leave them...right?

Tilki risked a look back to Thesia, wondering if those watching would smack him a good one. He continued to look back, the mercenaries not really minding if they chatted. Tilki just said, "Thesia...don't worry. We got your back."

He gave him his most reassuring smile for the moment, "Just trust me...please."

Vressin was quiet as usual but did bang his shields together and stomp his armor, giving an audible check to his weapons and armor. He took one last bite out of his metal ingot, indulging a little in the metallic taste that graced his senses, and put it away, mentally preparing himself to fight and protect those he cared about.

Thesia flinched at the banging, but stayed somewhat...composed.
Well, as composed as a slave could be. The cross tied her to slavery, and wasn't going to be removed anytime soon.
Mainly because she didn't see any mages...or she just wasn't sure who was a mage.

Trundum raised his axe in the air and cheered when the Ljnn finished his speech. He liked the idea, conquering the Undead.
But he knew that would take a long time, years probably. And that's of course if they succeed. The odds are against them.
Trundum just nodded when the Ljnn spoke to them directly. Or really Thesia. She needed more comforting then anyone else here.


Trundum laughed when he saw that Vressian startled her. Somehow, due to the odd workings of his mind, he realized what Tilki said.
"Hey." He turned to face the Otaizine. Then spoke in a hushed tone. "If you wanted, you could stay behind us. Less likely to die and all that."
Trundum knew that Tilki was new to fighting, he saw it in him yesterday. But didn't want to directly say it to him.

He patted the young man on his back reassuringly and nodded before looking forward.

Tilki gave Trundum a half smile, grateful for the gesture. And, though Tilki wasn't willing to admit it, Trudum was right. Tilki gave his arms a flex, and still felt a slight bit of soreness from his time in the stocks.

He said, after some consideration, "You know...that actually doesn't sound like a bad idea." and let the two Standur pass in front of him. After all, Tilki just wanted to live for a little bit longer. Plus...it allowed him to talk to Thesia.

Because...Tilki felt like he should tell her. But his mind told him Not yet, my boy. Not yet. And Tilki was more than willing to listen to the voice in his head.

Nádúiranam
Cantai
Outside of fucking Cantai, finally, godfuck.

Nádúiranam looked around the armored group he now found himself. He was surrounded by mercenaries of all sorts, the tall pale creatures, who had straight horns coming from their heads; the pointy-eared folk; and the native Otaizine. However, Nádúiranam noted, the abundance of the pale horned folk and the Otaizine were far greater than the pointy-eared ones. And ho, such a number of warriors in these ranks, he's seen more people today than live in his homeland.

The Mercenaries wore an assortment of armors, and bore a similar arrangement of arms. Ranging from what Nádúiranam thought to be leather, to some sort of scaled metal. Many, if not all, held shields, much like one of the pale creatures with dark hair who he had seen in Del Mantis and in the court of the temple-like building, as well as a sword.

As the unit marched, Nádúiranam noticed that the the mercenary unit was "encased" by more heavily armed troops, like the ones he noticed earlier with the leader of Cantai, or perhaps, leader of the region. This place will prove fascinating.












Important note from FallenSanity: "The Mercenary units are at the back in horizontal rectangle formations (though obviously a little shoddy). Behind them are the units of Steelbyziars, which form several long horizontal rectangles, going all the way around the mercenaries before reaching the front, which is built of one large unit of Ironkitoi."

===Natervel, Deep Underground===
==Norrburahk's Chamber==

=Everything was dark, as if a shadow had been cast like a blanket over his vision. On the floor of this dimly lit chamber was the body of a Human, dressed in simple clothing of wool and leather with a white bandage wrapped around his throat, stained red. There was no sound in the hall of the Necromancer, only the echoes of voices no longer present. Not malevolent voices, but less than benign. The obscure figure on the carven black throne shook his head, and the voices ceased. A shiver came from the body on the floor=

Ah, Oso' nekavn?

=The figure's voice was harsh and rough. The sound of spoken words came as a shock to the man on the floor, and he shot upwards, looking around frantically as he shivered again, not used to the terrible cold of Natervel City=

Wh-Who ar-re y-you?

=A jagged grin came across the face of Norrburahk, who came to speak once more in the language of the undead=

Ni'san Norrburahk de, Tarrich.

=This was a strange and foreign tongue to Tarrich. But, despite this, he felt as though he could understand it. He replied slowly, hesitantly=

Y-you're the N-Necromanc-cer?

=His teeth chattered=

You do not feel the Cold, do you?

=Suddenly, Tarrich realized that he indeed could not feel the Cold. It was as if he had been imagining it. He was greatly confused. The Human wanted to be angry, like he was supposed to be livid but did not recall how to be. He wanted to say so many things, but his mouth would not produce the sounds. The Necromancer stood, dwarfing Tarrich, his dark, loose pants slacking down as he rose. All the little human could seem to do was watch from where he sat, trying to comprehend what he was looking at. His eyes fixed on the figure's horns=

Eta'mho ni Natervel, Tarrich....
Welcome...

The sound of four thousand boots hammering the earth rung across the long dusty road, the earth and grass being flung into the air as the mass of warriors and fighters made their march across the plains of Halid. His horse, and the horses of the fellow commanders, were trotting at pace while the army followed at the same speed, their arms and armour clinking and clanging as they moved.

Cejiso had been silent for much of the ride, and in fact had started to doze off, barely watching his own steps and instead following the faded blurs on either side of him, the Capital Soldiers of the army, the leaders that would aid him in his task. Cejiso yawned a little as the soldiers around him spoke before looking up, his eyes burning as the sunlight shone against them. Looking back forward casually, he looked over and let out a faint sigh.

"With me."

Two Capitals nodded and broke away as they began to follow the now speeding Cejiso, his horse galloping down the long road at a far greater speed than they had been before. The army kept itself moving, beasts and bandits too intimidated to dare rival an army of Halid.

Cejiso and his company had been riding for a while now, and as the Jazierih looked up again, the sun was beginning to go down. Once it was set his army would be here, and they were lucky he'd thought ahead.
A small group of women came out of the large stone building, carrying with them baskets of food, before laying them down near the ring of beds. The village was small, with only a few dozen houses. They were however kind and welcoming, and had prepared everything they had to accommodate the coming force. While the Ironkitoi and Steelbyziars had tents, the mercenaries did not, and this would be the best they received, some old worn pelts lain across dirt.

Cejiso and the Capitals were watching the sun begin to set as the sound of horns bellowed across the wind, four thousand men and women coming up to the town and slowing to a well earned pant. The remaining mounted soldiers made their way into the town to meet with Cejiso, while the Ironkitoi and Steelbyziars began to set up their domed tents around the town as was protocol - a typically defensive routine used to protect settlements that had the courtesy of housing soldiers. It wasn't uncommon for these towns to be attacked in the night.

The next day, by the time the sun had finally pierced the skies, the town was back to it's daily routine. The wind was already blowing away the marks left by the four thousand soldiers, who were now long gone.

As the force continued on it's way, Cejiso closed his eyes and as he did, heard the loud vibrant roar overhead, the army wavering as it's steps began to shake and shudder, arms being raised and weapons being readied, as a great ethereal white dragon came plummeting to the earth below, before landing gently a few feet before Cejiso. The Ljnn, many meters away from the army, smiled and dismounted, his horse returning to it's position in the formation.

And then with a bellowing roar, the thick wave of crystalline fire belched forward, engulfing Cejiso in it's dance.

The horses bucked and the army began to yell in terror, swords and shields raised up in preparation for attack before a voice was heard, that of a Ljnn, a Jazierih of Cantai.
"Hold your weapons! No harm has befallen me."

As the flames died down, Cejiso was still there, standing now facing the force, a crumpled note in his hand.

"This is Kadercek, the Great Beast of Cejiso, and the symbol of the Daëlízh Family. A rare breed of it's type. To put it bluntly, it has been positioned by Solúmn himself to guard us, and represent us as the army of the Gods. We will be forever safe under its gaze."

Cejiso didn't believe it, but he knew that many soldiers and people of Halid believed it. It would help morale, which was more important than anything at this point.

The march ran ever on, the dragon overhead roaring and bellowing every so often as the great massed force moved on. They stopped at another town, and as the third day dawned, Cejiso finally began to smile as he addressed his people.
"My peoples, here we are! The last day of our endless march! We will reach New Monali soon, and from there we will finally head on to the Niy."

And he kept his word, for as the sun began to set and the army snaked through the canyons, they finally came onto the great mining city of New Monali. It's brilliant buildings, crafted to survive the harshness of nature, dotted the sides of the mountains and the valleys, while the great mines rested hidden as always, away from the prying eyes of the people. The empty streets and billowing smokes wafting up from the gorges of the earth were enough indication though, of their current status as the Standurr worked away as they always had.

But, Cejiso did not allow the armed numbers of Halid stop. They walked through the whole city, past the stalls and districts, and continuing through the valley further on, towards the docks near the gulf.

"Four thousand men and ten ships? Even with their size and capability that's not going to be enough."

Cejiso looked down at the captain, who sighed and rubbed his head a little. The army had been given a few moments to rest and feed while Cejiso and the Capitals prepared their ships, but it seemed as if something was wrong.
"The Minister of Del Mantis promised us twenty ships. This is half of his promise, and hardly the same class that he sword to us."
The skipper shook his head angrily. "The Minister ordered these ten ships here, no more no less. He said he would be here to meet you off, so you can wait for him there."

Cejiso had decided to do just that.

(Pardon the mediocre/awful quality of this post please~)

As Cejiso waited, Thesia broke from the others and went to the edge of the 'beach' there, sitting down. She had never really had the chance to be at a river; every time she had come close, it had been to get water for the horses and slaves. She now wanted to see one as a free person.

Above, the braying of an elk sounded, and the thump of wings revealed something was coming.
A flying elk, to be exact.

The majestic beast of Boveskerund flared out it's wings and landed, and on the back was a strawberry-blonde girl in her late twenties. She slid off.
"Who's the leader?" She asked collectively. "And how many are present that are heading to the frontlines?"
She stood easy, a sword present on her back. She glanced around. Bunch of standurr, one of which was eyeing Ceijso...and Ana hoped it was because he distrusted the Ljnn. Many Ljnn and Otaizins. She spotted a single girl at the edge of the river, and took note to go talk to her.

Anastasia McKenna waited patiently for an answer.

Picture of Anastasia.

Cejiso had heard the beating wings, as had many of his advisors and tacticians. Turning around, one by the name of Laijic stepped forward, one of the Capital Soldiers of the Otaizine force, the bearer of the Sigil of Daëlízh. Forming a tight group, the other commanders moved with Laijic as he made way through the army, before entering the now circled clearing of land where the beast and it's rider had taken place.

"I am Generazi Laijic Daëlízh of Halid, servant of Governor Solúmn Daëlízh and commander of this force."

His hand rested calmly on his own sword, while the other soldiers around the circle began to draw their own. While not held out, the numerous blades that now took part were far from unimposing. Cejiso, who stood in the group protecting Laijic, held his own halberd out just a little, eyeing the womans body. While he was admiring her, he was also scanning for hidden weapons. But her outfit would be... rather ineffective at hiding anything, given it's hold of her curves.

"How many? A peculiar thing for a simple messenger to ask. Why is it you have come here to question us, ma'am? Are you a spy?"

"If I was a spy, I would not have been so blatant and upfront about it, nor would I have flown in on this." She scowled. "Now lower your weapons. You are addressing Grand Knight Anastasia McKenna, second in command of the First Aerial Brigade of Boveskerund and the aide de camp of Grand Vidanet of Hirsch, Saoirse McKenna." She did not draw her sword. "I am not a mere messenger, General. I gather intelligence for my dear sister to use, as she is planning with your forces this battle. She needs to know exactly what is coming to her aide." She calmly surveyed the men around her. Good men, of course. But they were eying her as a mere girl, with a sword and a flying deer.

They were sorrily mistaken.
"If I lie, why does the mighty symbol of the Daëlízh Family merely watch from the sidelines?"

Cejiso eyed the girl, frowning and stepping forward a little, passing his weapon to Laijic as he did so. The Ironkitoi began to lower their weapons, watching their commander acknowledge a more peaceful standpoint.

"Grand Knight Anastasia McKenna. I've heard that name before, McKenna. I've heard the rumours that surround it, too. I had no knowledge that we were being backed by Boves, of all people in this conflict." He walked around the woman slowly, smirking just a little.

In mock, he imitated her voice. "'She needs to know exactly what is coming to her aide.' We do not come to her aid. Not a single man here fights for the Whore of Hirsch. We fight for Halid, for Mainne, and for Easthur. Your people are here to aid us, we are not here to aid them. Why should I give her my troop numbers?"

He snarled a little. He had no fondness of the people of Boveskerund, and the arrogance this girl showed was one of the reasons for that.

"I will give my troop numbers when I arrive. No sooner."

Ana bristled, but eased herself.
"Ah, the Casanova of Cantai. The greatest deposit of sexually transmitted disease in Easthur. I should have know. No other Ljnn of Halid gets away with such words...am I correct, Cejiso?" She said with a smirk. "Now, if you wish to be that way, then we have nothing to discuss. Carry on."

Walking her elk to drink, she sat down beside Thesia. The cross was barely visible on her neck.
One of the healers could get rid of that... Ana thought.
"Easthur does have some beauty." She said gently. "And I'm lucky to be sitting beside an example." She extended her hand. "Anastasia."

Thesia was scared. This woman had a flying deer, had stood up to Cejiso...
She shook a bit, but took the extended hand. "Thesia."
"That's a pretty name." Ana said. "And please. Call me Ana."
"Yes Miss...yes Ana."
"Oh...so you are free?"

Thesia nodded, looking at her shoes. Ana scooted closer, bumping shoulders. "Hey. Don't be afraid. I'm nice. I won't bite, unless you're into that."
Thesia giggled a bit. "No..."
"Well, one can try." She joked. "May I?"
Thesia looked a bit...curious. "Haven't you...seen one?"
"No...slaves are not branded in Boveskerund, and it is dying quickly."
Thesia pulled her hair away and turned her body to Ana. The cross looked ugly on the dark skin, and Ana touched it. She held her fingers there, then unconciously mimiced Vressin. She held her hand there for a bit.
"It must have hurt."
"I don't remember. I was branded when I was young...I was not born free."

Ana looked a bit shocked. She couldn't tear her hand away. "I'm..." She sighed. "Sorry means nothing..."
"No...it means you understand how helpless I felt...maybe not to my degree...but..."
"I was homeless. My sister almost raped. I know to a degree."

The two had started a bond by now, but Thesia remained extremely shy and awkward...which only made Ana want to keep her.
Which also made Ana feel horrible...wanting to keep a person, like they were property.

But this girl was so...
Ana cut her thoughts off. She'd get this off her chest when she saw Siri next.

Cejiso huffed to himself as the crowds began to disperse, some shaking their heads. Most had expected much more than a few harsh words, and the fact that she'd acted so different than most were used too had been a major disappointment.

The Ljnn watched the woman talking to Thesia, frowning. She just walked away... people weren't allowed to just walk away from him like that. The lack of respect was disgraceful, especially for some murky little girl from Boveskerund. Surely she knew that this battle was not for her people. The people of Boveskerund had never settled on Easthur, so why should he be paying their soldiers respects? He'd need to talk to the other commanders once he reached the frontal camp.

But for now, he had other business.

"Captain."

The ship captain, the same one that would be leading the few ships he and his army had been provided with, looked over his shoulder, nodding, then returned back to the book his first mate was holding, listing stock and trade routes for the upcoming travels.

"Vhat is it you call me for, Jazierih?" His accent was strong, possibly stronger than any member of Cejiso's army. This man was not used to living in one place alongside others, in fact much of his trade route ran from Halid to Izantin, completely voiding the settlements of other races on Easthur.

"I wish to discuss the trip. Your ship - how long will it take us to get to Niy?" The captain turned, his long beard and moustache deep black, and his green eyes dark under his prominent brow. He didn't seem happy about the question, really.
"The Sedd-ül is among the fastest ships in the entire Otaizen Empire. No other trader can compare to it. At most, the trip will take us a day. At the least, half a dozen hours." Cejiso nodded, admittedly impressed. Few Ljnn ships could compare to that, but the Otaizen Navy seemed to take great care in speed over power.
"Good. I'm sure you'll be ready by then."
The captain huffed, turning back to the books.

Cejiso walked down to the edge of the docks, sighing, and holding his sword by the hilt. He looked over at Thesia and Anastasia, frowning at them.
Wench.

Tilki looked at the ship curiously, having never seen one either in Lasyra or where his folks lived in Halid. The beastrider had drawn his attention more than anything, having heard only legends of such beasts while living in Lasyra.

Well...now I can say I've seen all kinds of strange things in my life.... He also worried if the boat would make him motion sick. He wasn't used to traveling in one.

Nádúiranam
New Monali(?)
Camp
He who calls himself Nádúiranam, Nature's Soul, isolated himself from rough and tumble of the Mercenaries he traveled with. Perched upon a rock he sat, palms facing the sky while resting upon his knees. He breathed in through his nose and out through his mouth, regulating is breathing, he filled his lungs with air and then exhaled, releasing all the air he could. He was meditating. Relaxing his body, and freeing his mind from the physical constraints of this world.

As the young mage sat near the beach, and listened to the waves break upon the shore, and as birds landed and searched for food, he listened. The sounds of nature, the squall of birds, the rhythmic crashing of the ocean, the sound of the wind, as it rushed through the leaves and the cracks and crevices of the mountain. Though relaxed he was, at peace he was not. His freed mind wandered the land. Coming to rest on the one who trapped his magic. A mage, like him, who had come from another village, and was trained by their magister, their shaman, their teacher of magic in the way of fire, of burning desire. Unlike the element he learned to control, he was not hot-headed, he did not bite the hand that fed him, he contorted, he complied, and he did not lose himself to the typical emotional recesses that Fire typically represented among their people. He was like Nádúiranam, in his own way, but as great minds think alike, so do they clash.

And clash did. At an annual festival their villages came together and celebrated some Pantheon of gods they worshiped, and paid homeage to the dragons that call the island their home. Nádúiranam and Dóiteáinanam were pitted against each other, in a sparring match, at this time, each were able to control to their magic, and not accidentally kill themselves while casting spells.

A mage, like a Nádúiranam, Nature's Soul, who initially learns elemental magic, but strays from the path and learns a more liberated magic, a magic that is only limited by the imagination.* Nádúiranam was able to counter most of Dóiteáinanam's fire spells, whether by physically moving or by spell, Dóiteáinanam could not hit him. However, Dóiteáinanam had been on the offensive, and Nádúiranam had not moved to attack him. Not until Dóiteáinanam had almost exhausted himself from casting as much as he did, that was when Nádúiranam hit him, giving Nádúiranam the win. A light tap, from a small burst of water that Nádúiranam manipulated from a nearby tub, enough to get Dóiteáinanam a little bit wet, and knock him down.

Nádúiranam's thoughts reflected on this time, this time of innocence.



[Nádúiranam is available for interaction]
*Freestyle Magic, see Xazhi's Doc in the Character section
Dóiteáinanam

Vressin went to the edge of the camp, sitting down on the ground, setting his gear down about him, then stretching out on his kite shield, laying back in the concave portion of the unusual weapon. The handle poked into his back slightly, but he ignored it for now, just enjoying laying down after so much walking. He looked over at what was going on and dismissed it. If it was important he was sure he would find out.

"No, not like zhat! Agh you silly pointy ear! Give me zhe ropes!"

The fidgety, wrinkled, leathery hands of the old sailor quickly grasped the ropes, untying and retying them, attempting to undo everything Cejiso had done.

The Ljnn growled under his breath, watching as the man pushed him back a little. A legend on the front lines and the maker of heroes on the back lines, Cejiso had never really been on a boat before. Last time he had been he was asleep the whole time, and far from the level of soldier he was now. That this old man surpassed him was an embarrassment, and Cejiso would not have it. He could hear it, not far off, the bands of mercenaries tittering and giggling to themselves, as this supposed 'master of war' was made a fool of by an old Otaizen.

"Listen here, old man, I -"

In a flash, the old man turned, holding to the Jazierih's neck a dagger, the tip pressed into Cejiso's skin. The Ljnn looked in horror, shocked at the speed and gall this sailor had to even dare draw a weapon on him. And then, suddenly, the man began to laugh, as he pushed the blade into Cejiso's neck slowly.
And nothing happened.
The old man laughed louder as the bands began to do the exact same, as they realized it was no more than a trick blade, a favoured toy amongst Otaizen youth.

Cejiso would not be made a fool of by an old man and a childrens toy.
Grabbing the old man around the neck, snarling, Cejiso lifted the man off his feet, and the crowd grew silent.

"I will not be shown up by some old worn out sailor and a trick blade! Be glad I don't gut you and spill whatever few drops of blood you have left, you worthless scum!"

Without even a second thought, Cejiso tossed the man back into a pair of barrels, nearly knocking over two crew hands in the process. The old sailor was not gravely injured, but his age hadn't helped, and he was far from fit to work now. The hands quickly made to his side, and helped him retreat to one of the inns as Cejiso made way off of the dock, standing tall and holding his blade.
The eyes of the mercenaries were averted now. They'd learn to respect and fear him, as so many others had. They had no right to laugh at their superior.

"Silij, what are you hearing amongst the men?"

Cejiso stood with the other Capital soldiers of this force, the bearer of the Sigil, Kaijis, and his second in command, Sijil. Both were watching and listening. They, like Cejiso, had to be ready.

"Well, some of the soldiers are a little unsettled. Tired, worn, hungry. They're eating, but this place has barely enough food for them."
Cejiso nodded, scratching his chin a little.
"There's also some people pondering the reality of your title, the 'Casanova of Cantai.' Apparently everyone's finding that little comment and the ones that followed more than a little interesting."

Cejiso groaned, rubbing his head.
"By the name of... That anyone even heeded the word of that Boves whore is beyond me."

He needed to talk to her. Somehow, for some reason, Cejiso needed to talk to that girl. She was something he couldn't put his finger on, but he didn't like it.

That girl, Anastasia, was currently sitting with Thesia in a room at the inn. The Boveskerund girl had managed to break Thesia's shell just a tiny but. Not much, but enough. She currently was teaching Thesia a few tricks with a sword, adjusting her stance and helping her stand tall.
"There. Now what you want to do is bring up your blade like this -" she moved Thesia's arm. "And then this -" she moved it again. "It's a neat trick for a beginner, you just have to stay focused.
Ana smiled, letting Thesia relax. "So..."
Thesia sat on the bed, not meeting Ana's gaze. "Yes Ma'am?"
Ana flopped onto the bed beside Thesia. "Geez. I said call me Ana."
"I'm sorry...Ana." She started.

The Boves girl tickled Thesia's sides. "I'll have to do this then." She smirked, watching as Thesia devolved into laughter, unable to stop as Ana mercilessly assaulted her sides.

[quote="Fallen"]
It was noon by now, and for all Cejiso new the entirety of life over the Bakmak had been wiped out. The backup ships intended to carry more soldiers were still not here, and pacing over the docks, Cejiso was getting only angrier and angrier as time went on. Most of the soldiers and mercenaries had departed to inns and other lodgings for eat and sleep. Cejiso spun on the spot, looking at his two-man council.

"Kaijis, go and ensure the men are in good condition. No fights, no drunken conduct. Understand?"
The Otaizen nodded before hurrying off without question. Silij stood, sweating a little; his large fur coat from the north wasn't that comfortable anymore.
"Go find me that Boves whore. I need a word with her. Alone."
The veteran bowed respectfully before heading off to one of the inns where he recalled seeing the woman leave too. This way, Cejiso was alone. He sat down, rubbing his head and thinking to himself, before falling forward, head in his hands.

"This... how did it come to this? A Boves woman? The Boves people?! How am I meant to fulfil my duty with one of these sikisken lurking about. The second she catches onto me..."
He gripped his dagger gently, cursing himself.
"If only I'd brought that blasted hand-dagger, I could've gutted her right then and there. No questions. Nothing."
He stood and suddenly impaled the wooden post he'd been sitting on, his long elegant Ljnn blade buried deep in its wood. Nearly half the blade was hidden now.

"Well, at least it'll go differently here."

Trundum threw a sluggish punch and lands it square in the jaw of the other Standur, knocking it flat on it's ass.
He turned around and raised his hands, letting out a victorious shout at the crowd of other mercs. Composed of most races.
He turns back around only to see a fist fly straight into his face, knocking him back a few steps. He quickly regained his posture, despite being drunk.

Trundum might've started a drunken brawl, but he was bored. What else was he suppose to do? Stare at the wall?
He runs forward and uses the momentum to slam his fist practically right down the other guy's throat... if he hadn't moved out of the way.
Trundum finds himself on the floor, looking up at the Standur he had been fighting. Then everything goes black...