The Tavern
"Do I look like a queen to you?" the fey dark elf remarked in annoyance. As much as it would amuse her if Priscilla and the rest did, she simply took this excess apology as what it looked like to her. An insult. However, before she could snap back with her tongue, one of the other men had drawn blood. "Hey," K'yorl began, struggling to remember if the human had a name or not. "Are you alright? What happened?" she asked, rising from the table to come over to his side. Though the siren song in the background would have been welcome at another time, the Drow's ears flicked in annoyance.
Well, what do you know? Olgath thought, as the elven princess went to help the white-haired human, turns out the lady likes me somewhat? Enough to dodge her derisive tone, at any rate, I guess.
He was going to go get a bandage, but when the dancer got up on the stage, he was fully enraptured by her spell. For him, Nasheeka appeared to be a slim, dark-haired brunette, her hair intricately braided into a long ponytail that swung around her as she danced. This, of course, gave him a great view of her face, pale skin contrasting with her bright green eyes and burgundy toned lips.
"Who?....That ornament I hit my head on when that patron bumped me, must have been sharper than I thought," Jack said as someone began touching the back of his head. "What all did I say just a moment ago?" He asked before having his attention drawn to what had everybody else so enthralled.
On the stage stood a wood elf with long brown hair, a very voluptuous hourglass figure, wide hips, and a rather large.....chest. He was unsure why, but this seemed to draw him in as well to almost the extent of the others around him, but something about this seemed off, and he felt a familiarity he couldn't quite place his finger on.
As if finally aware of the two of his party that had the kindness to check on him, "I'm terribly sorry for causing you trouble my lady. Any way I can repay you for your kindness, you have but to ask."
Priscilla stayed kneeling even though K'yorl had left, frozen in shock. To others perhaps, an apology would not have mattered this much, but this was a holy mandate. To seek forgiveness and to attain it was a requisite for salvation. In her distorted state Priscilla recited a few holy words originating from divine inspiration, "for if a mortal refuses to forgive you, why then, should you expect the divine to even look down on you?". With those words, Priscilla rose and promised her very own soul that she would attain that forgiveness, no matter what.
Once the dancer left the stage, the dwarf shook his head and realized that Branwyn had taken care of the human. Let's just say that I wasn't completely distracted and failed at getting a willing bed partner, he thought grumpily.
Branwyn stared at him, considering the possibilities. She really didn’t want or expect anything in return, she had been the one in the wrong for thinking him insane when he was merely injured. “That won’t be necessary. From my point of view, we are even.” She finally said.
“Considering the offer further,” she added a few seconds later. “If you insist, I would like to hear of your past. We all will likely be spending a few days together while the elders decide what to do with you and the others. If we don’t speak it will be quite dull.”
"Not really much to tell, I'm a bastard. My father and stepmother live in a village with my siblings. I got tired of a boring life of farming and studies at home, so I took up swordsmanship. Several months ago I decided to become a mercenary and travel looking for a good cause to fight for, adventure, and a purpose to my life. I became very skilled at the wielding of two blades. I was actually traveling and made camp for the night off a bit from the road, and woke up on the ship with the rest of present company." Jack said as he began to get a clear head.
The wood elf took a seat across from Jack to listen to his story. She had little respect for those who fought for money. From what he had said, he wasn’t quite as despicable as those men, but he still didn’t seem to have any clear goals for the future.
She could feel the wine taking effect, loosening her tongue. “I envy your freedom. My whole life has been devoted to my Clan. My future was decided for me. From birth, I was taught how to act, how to be the perfect elf-bride. I hated it, yet I would welcome that life back now.” Branwyn said gloomily
“My brother Nadyel should have been the heir. He was better at it. I can’t help but feel some responsibility for what happened to him. Maybe if I hadn’t wanted his life so badly…” She trailed off, reaching up to wipe tears from her eyes.
“I prayed to the gods. Told them I would give anything to be free like my brother. Now he’s locked away in a room, strapped to a bed to prevent him from harming himself and I am the heir.” Tears fell from her eyes. She covered her face with her hands in embarrassment. “Forgive me. The heir must never show weakness.” Branwyn said sarcastically.
"Tears like that are necessary, lass," Olgath said after taking a swallow of his mead. "I've been through hard times, seen my brothers-in-arms die in a futile war, and you know what got me through that? It's having someone or a group of people that I could be honest with and shed a few tears without judgment. Alcohol helps too," he added, chuckling darkly as he took another drink.
"Hmph, to imagine I was worried a moment ago," the dark elf remarked. Seeing that he was fine and capable of flapping his lips, she sighed and simply retook her seat. With the troubles on her mind, the woman didn't pay much attention to the goings on around in the tavern, including the show. K'yorl could feel something magical about it, but at this point, simply didn't care for it. There were bigger fish to fry after all. "What are the rest of you jabbering on about anyways? Aren't we in a tough spot?" the woman asked them all.
"Usually had more blood on me in other tough spots," the dwarf said with a shrug. "And less drink. But we're talking about ourselves, so we're not all strangers for the foreseeable future. Might as well get to know each other, right?"
"I don't see why that's important, especially considering our current little predicament," the Drow replied, stabbing at her food for faux-deadly emphasis. The inferior races could be annoying to no end. They might have been brought together by fate for all she cared, but this was practically twiddling the thumbs.
"It will only be as tough as a spot as we make it. We act on our best behavior, we with hope will be allowed to leave soon. We are lucky we are not currently shackled, or worse. I can already estimate that you don't enjoy our company very much. So please share what it is that displeases you so greatly about some of us sharing in your presence. I've had instructors who were more antagonistic to converse with, I have the scars to prove it too. Now relax, stress and anger get us nowhere." Jack said as he grew ever more irritated with every dose of the elven woman's superior attitude.
Branwyn fought the urge to jump out of her chair and slap the Drow. She knew that most of K’yorl’s kind considered themselves superior to other races. They truly were almost exact opposites of her own kind, who tried to live in harmony with other species of Kami. The wood elves had even tried to be friendly with the humans of the Empire before the war started.
Instead, she opted for a different response. “You say you were a teacher. If that’s all you are, why were you looting bodies on the beach? I know full well that your intent was not helping those people as the Priest believes. Perhaps you are just a common thief, playing the part of an innocent teacher so no one will suspect your true nature.”
Well, Olgath thought, taking another pull from his glass, if they keep at it like this, we'll have a catfight on our hands. It'd be entertaining, to say the least.
"Oh, forgive me for trying to do the prudent thing," K'yorl replied to Branwyn, smiling pleasantly with dulcet notes. "Especially after I was enslaved and put on a boat, which crashed in the middle of what looked like a battlefield," she added, ever kindly. "I must be a complete and utter fool, trying to find for myself some resource such as weapon or armor so that I would not be placed in shackles yet again! Silly me!~~~<3" the Drow scathingly rebuked the other woman with honey sweet words.
"Please!" Priscilla interjected, "I ask of you both, of everyone, can we not put aside our hostilities for the moment?" finally daring to move up from her defeated position she faced them all. This group could not fight, the Lord didn't wish it, and Priscilla was obligated to enforce the peace of her Lord by uniting everyone under the same banner. "I dare say we all suffered the same unfortunate fate, but the Divine has graced us with rescue and similar goals. I know not the purpose of our union, but I promise it will be good for us all if we follow the path set before us."
Before she could respond to K’yorl the self-proclaimed priest interrupted the argument. Branwyn rolled her eyes. “Your Lord is pretty incompetent if he chose this motley crew. If he’s so great, how come he doesn’t destroy the human Empire himself?”
"STOP IT! Insulting the beliefs of others gets us nowhere. Are we children, or adults. She is right, our chances are far better united then alone. If we are to continue, this petty foolishness must stop here." Jack said jumping up from his chair and stepping into the center of the angry women, willing to hold someone back if need be.
Priscilla's eyes began twitching violently, and the look of worry that she had when she pleaded for peace was completely replaced with a resentful smile. "Ah.... so that's what you think huh?" Her grip on her walking stick tightened, and her voice deepened with ire, "Heh... of course, people like you wouldn't understand... no, especially you... royals... thinking you're so high and mighty all the damn time you thinking that you're countries are worth saving at all. Have you ever thought that the possibility that these humans, who sweep across the land like a plague, arrived because of your blasphemous ways? You've become so blind to your vices that you refuse to acknowledge that even you are flawed to the very core. Honestly, I wouldn't care, I put all prejudice against wealth before me, but when you DARE to mock the most superior existence ever before me, I will not, and I cannot let that slide from a heathen!" Priscilla took a small breath, as she brought her walking stick closer to her chest until the moment she screeched, "I WILL MAKE YOU REPENT!" and lashed, swinging her makeshift weapon wildly at the wood elf.
Branwyn barely had time to react to the sudden attack. She flinched in anticipation of being struck and threw her arms up to block the blow.
Jack quickly adjusted his position to place himself directly in front of Branwyn, and furthermore Priscilla's staff. It came down hard on his left arm which he used to stop the strike with a loud clack as a tensed muscled arm met hard treated wood. Jack knew he most likely had a fracture in his arm from the sudden searing pain in said arm, "Enough! Calm yourself, do not let anger control your actions. Would you really be willing to commit a serious crime by hitting an heir? You are better than this, understanding and tolerance is needed if we are to solve our differences. Now I beseech you, my lady, lower the staff, as violence here will solve nothing."
"Humie's got a point," Olgath said, drowning the last of his mead before looking at the elves, "Swinging staffs and shouting words does nothing but cause problems. If you're going to cause mischief, go outside so the rest of us don't get thrown out with you."
The barkeeper suddenly shouted out. "Get her out of the bar!"
Within a minute, two guards pushed there way towards Priscilla to take her and lock her up for assaulting another civilian and attempting to attack a clan royal.
Town Walls
On the town walls, guards armed their bows as a lone human ran towards the gate, obviously exhausted as he collapses before even reaching the entrance. Shandris orders the walls open and she marches swiftly to the collapsed human. "Take him to a medic, quick!" She barked right before she took the note that was within his hands. The guards returned inside the gate while she stood outside. Her face showed distress as she read the note.
Dear Nyrean Feathermoon,
If you receive this note, that means that Ovelia has fallen to the Imperium, and I am most likely being tortured or executed. At the writing of this letter, our northeastern regions have been torched- ours ports conquered. Armies are marching upon our capital. Our nations have never been allies or friends, and I do not blame you. But as a King trying to protect his people, and I do hope there are some Ovelians left after this...that you let any refugees within your lands and protect them. I sent my family and nobles south- but a majority of people wouldn't be able to make it to Aasimar lands, most will die or be forced to flee east towards your land. Nyrean- save your people at all costs, we both know what happens when captured.
Regards,
King Kolten Stemal
After Shandris finished reading the note, she dashed into the city. They were going to be attacked if Ovelia has fallen- no doubt the other two human kingdoms have. That means they were next, and she had to organize a defense. Around the town, one bell rung, which means the town is on alert two, preparing for a siege, but business as usual.
Tavern
The few guards within the tavern got up and quickly made their way out of the tavern, in order to go to their defensive positions. All the civilians were acting normally though- not worried about the attack, due to it being somewhat far off, and they held off all other attacks. The siren also quickly took the stage after the bell, her duplicates appearing. "This is for all the soldiers that will be protecting us in the upcoming siege..." She said, sounding sincere as she started to sing again. There was no cheering or whistling this time though, everyone seemed somewhat relaxed, knowing it might very well be the last song they hear, and the song would give them hope.
The dwarf sighed, once everything had calmed back down again. "Now," he said as he stood up, "I'm going to get more to drink. Anybody need a refill?"
Branwyn grabbed a steak knife from the next table and started to rise from her seat to retaliate when the alarm sounded. The bells sounding and guards running from the tavern meant an attack was coming. She put the knife back and nodded to the dwarf. “I would like some water to clear my head, sir dwarf. If we are to be attacked soon I will not sit around waiting to be killed.”
Jack held his arm after Priscilla lowered her staff, a very dark bruise already visible under the medium sleeve of his shirt of his left arm. It had shown up within seconds after impact and covered a third of his lean forearme. "Yes master dwarf, something for the pain, and thank you for your support in avoiding needless bloodshed," Jack said as he cringed from the pain, knowing that it would need to be treated later.
The Drow simply sighed and raised a finger, catching the tavern maid's attention. "A pint of beer please." Each and every single one of them was an annoyance, but at least they were all warm bodies between herself and whatever danger lay ahead. After all, K'yorl knew she didn't need to outrun the monsters - just the slowest out of the lot of them.
Olgath ordered a water for the princess and two meads for him and Jack, then turned his attention back to Nasheeka. "See, just remember that there are worse things than sitting in a warm tavern with a steady supply of alcohol," he said, putting his hands behind his head.
