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RP: 5th Fleet [Chapter Eight] Castles and Catgirls

CadetNewb

CadetNewb

Well-Known Member
Blacksite 34
Planetary Name Pending

Sitting at the table was a young noblewoman, and one that looked rather out of it. Her light brown hair was frazzled by recent events, and her large, rounded glasses were ever so slightly askew, but at least her great chest was no longer heaving with horror. Somehow, the gown she wore was left relatively unmarked by all the fighting as well. Forest green, with black trim at the sleeves and torso, with the front lace crisscrossing over her slender waist; it emphasized the curved and strained white partlet she wore under it all and over her chest. A local beauty. But one that was distressed, yet untouched by the chaos that unfolded.

A miracle considering what she had witnessed.

"Do my...do my eyes deceive me?" Adelaide spoke down at her cup of tea in haunted disbelief. "It can't be possible. Seeing a dozen or so Ostlandi from the far, far east was a sight. But seizing control of an elvish City-State?" she shook her head in disbelief. Opposite her at the tea table was her counterpart, the Elvish Consul of this fair city; unlike her, his white and purple robes were torn, stained with a bit of someone else's blood, and his right eye was swelling. On top of that, one of his long, pointed ears was somehow crooked.

"If only they did," Faustus sourly remarked, running a hand through his now-messy blond hair. The legionnaires and centurions both couldn't stop them. Impossibly fast, impossibly strong, it was as though they were fighting hobgoblins that could move with the grace of the wind. To the elf, they were as terrifying and deadly as they were beautiful. Not that his pride would ever allow him to admit that. Staring daggers at the smallest of them, who were all clearly backing the noblewoman, he asked, "So, what are your terms?"

"I don't know - it wasn't my intention to take over your little nation," the little Neko replied, much to the elf's chagrin. Standing at just seven inches tall, Sif's green eyes stared up at him with a smoldering fury that couldn't be hidden. Magic or not, it was all useless if someone couldn't cast it fast enough, and Nekovalkyrja were fast. "The vast majority of us are soldiers, as you saw, not diplomats or even spies, so you'll have to forgive them for not tricking you into allowing us to move on peacefully." Though this elvish Consul figured out they were from a foreign nation and planned on crucifying them, he at least didn't figure out much more, and was stopped short of anything else. Looking at the Star Army Soldiers, Sif asked,

"What do you all think?"

They still had a lost friend to find, and not to mention this planet's secret behind all the 'magic'. Having at least a base of operations, and one in the middle of this forest that the other nations kept away from, wasn't sounding like such a bad idea after all.
 
From the victors side stood a man drapped in peasants clothing. Even from a solid distance, anyone could see the confusion in his eyes and the worried look on his face. It was only mere moments that he arrived here under the guise of a pilgrim named Deus. He walked foward to the nearest individual he reconginzed to be from the same world as he.

"What in the actual fuck is going on? I was ordered to do some recon, and then come here because you guys conquered an entire city?!" Whispered Werner in his native language.

So far he barely knew anyone here, and that would have to change asap. That and tell who ever is in charge about what he saw happening in the countryside.
 
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Brynhildr was spotless, as if she had not at all been in a fight. Instead of a tightly kept single braid down her back, most of her hair was let loose. flowing down past her knees. She had two braids, one on each side of her head, which met at the back of her head, while there were two long clumps of hair let loose on her face. After the fighting had ended, with the help of a local, she got a more common hair style, along with some new....revealing clothes. Instead of her Star Army uniform, she wore a black loincloth held up by golden leather straps. On the loin cloth was an unknown symbol to her. For a top she wore a very loose fitting bra-like clothing. It only covered the top part of her breasts, while it was connected to loose sleeves and held up by a golden choker and robe. Other than that, she wore generic cheap sandals. After learning what she looked like, she decided to try and play the part. According to locals both afraid and curious, she was a Drow, some native race of the continent that had a bad reputation. This was all fine and dandy to her, as she tried to mimic personalities and ways of life her entire life; such as her coworkers. She even made up a fake backstory- she was raised by humans in an isolated village, which was recently destroyed by goblin raiders. Her fake identity name was even Nymeria Jane Whiteheart. To her it was all weird and fascinating, but it was part of mimicking a culture.

As she stood at the table and got weird looks as the group talked, she began thinking of what demands would be reasonable, although to her, it was all unnecessary. But sadly that was not her judgment to make. She recalled an instance from earlier that day, where she saw starving and weak slaves, creatures called Kobolds. These 'Elves' as they call themselves seemed uptight and obnoxious. For all she knew, the creature she looked like were better than the elves. -With all do respect Ma'am, what is happening?- She telepathically said to her commanding officer. "Well, maybe some gold to rebuild my village that no one helped protect." Brynhildr said with the best fake pissed face she could make, staring right into the eyes of the Consul.
 
Tomiko stood in the back, fidgeting nervously. She didn't know why she had been chosen for this assignment. Surely there were plenty of medics they could have picked, medics with better qualifications than she had. Medics more comfortable with fighting if it came to that. Through the whole battle, she had been paralyzed with fear. A few times she had been forced to use her staff, which was really just a plain stick with some sort of gemstone set in it. Thankfully the others were more than capable of killing the locals.

The Neko tried to look calm. She was terrible at concealing her emotions. A blind goblin would be able to tell she was utterly terrified. She was almost similar enough to the elves that most humans would think she was one of them. She was dressed like a middle class elf adventurer might dress. A brown tunic and trousers with a hooded cloak wrapped around her shoulders. Her shoes were plain, generic sandals meant for long hours of walking in the wilderness.

The most obvious difference between Tomiko and these elves was her forest green hair, which she wore in a braided crown with loose strands going just past her shoulders. Her flawless alabaster skin was another noticeable difference. She had an oval face with cute heart-shaped lips. Normally she painted them pink, but she hadn't known whether or not makeup was common here. What gave her away to the elves immediately was the almond shape of her honey eyes.

She opened her mouth to protest Werner's use of Yamataigo before she realized he was a Minkan. Tomiko contacted him telepathically. -You probably shouldn't speak Yamataigo where anyone can hear you.- She suggested. The demand for gold surprised her. After thinking about it she realized there was something she wanted. "E-excuse me, Miss Adelaide? I would be honored if you would teach me how to use healing magic."
 
Werner viscously glared at Tomiko's innocent visage, and in defiance of her suggestion spoke how he normally would at home to everyone in the room.

"Oh well I'm so sorry, good to meet everyone!" Said Werner sarcastically as he took a moment to scan the room. Speaking in his tongue still.

"I think it is far weirder for us to know what we are talking about without talking openly. Now what is this village you are protecting? Another lie? Weren't we all foreigners? Also, don't call me by my real name... now I know it's not my place, but I'm going to try and... negotiate a way for to not gwt brutally murdered down the line."

He took a moment to step foward to both of the native parties, and spoke in their tongue.

"Hey... my name is Deus, it's a pleasure to meet you all since it seems you've... well it seems like you guys have a lot of history with each other. I am yet another foreigner from the far east, a pilgrim of sorts."

He looked at the Elvish Consul, and bowed. For Werner, it was out of character. Normally he would laugh at the sight of a defeated warrior. However he kept himself restrained, because for Deus... he was simply showing respect for the higher ups. Mostly to avoid making a enemy of what seemed to an unstoppable force if they United.

" I apologize for the sudden aggression my aquiantence's aggression, which was probably uncalled for. Though I am a mere pilgrim, and cannot offer anything, you may have my apology, and my amazement of your city." Then an idea blew up his mind.

"My name is Deus, pilgrim of the east, and there is a problem I think you may have been negligent about. Your slaves... the lizard folk, the short ones, and goblins within your country side have begun to act strange." He looked at the noblewoman

"I believe that these cretins are trying to mobilize against both you and these elves, from both within and the outside. I've studied these events before in my.... monestary? These kind of coalitions between beasts can fell great empires if left to stir. If we are making demands, I suggest the elves to cull their slaves and hunt these beasts to near extinction... as well as some gold as well."

Honestly, Werner had no idea what the fuck he was talking about. He saw movies with his sister abput these kinds of meetings and tried to pull somthing out of his ass because he really didn't want to have enemies, especially now that he was seen with the invaders. The gold he mentioned wasn't for the party either, it was to personally pay off people so they would be less inclined to hunt him down, good old movie Nepleslian corruption.
 
Faustus might have been holed up in his City-State, but he was certainly no fool.

After all, he was one of the pillars that held together this remnant of The Empire. When that young man started speaking in that Far East language, the Elvish Consul's eyes narrowed ever so slightly. So impudent! Even if he was defeated, the man should have at least shown some respect. Looking at the littlest one of their group though, her green eyes and freckled features told him at least she didn't think highly of him doing this either. Her own frown, though faint, was icy cold - the degree it reminded him of his wife's sent a chill down the elf's spine. The noblewoman, Adelaide, last in throne for her kingdom seemed uninformed and rather out of it. She wasn't the center of this for certain - the poor girl was certainly their pawn.

To use the custodian of that black Thing as a pawn....it made his blood simmer. He looked at them a little more. One of them even looked like a Drow, but he couldn't quite put a finger on it. Something about her was Off. Wrong. Perhaps that one was an outcast whom had used arts forbidden even amongst them. Who could tell how depraved they could be? At least she was asking for something he was familiar with. Money. That's what it always boiled down to.

"To rebuild a village - I should hope that 500 gold coins should be more than enough," Faustus graciously offered, tilting his head towards Brynhildr coolly. He needed to keep her away from his wife and the children - especially the children, and the little girls too - that was for sure. As of them addressed Adelaide von Weiss and asked for her tutelage, he watched as the young noblewoman blush with embarrassment. She was a modest one it seemed.

"P-perhaps," the brunette replied, adjusting her glasses with a glance away from the pretty Neko. "I'm no good at teaching, but since you're the second to ask, I-I'll try." To Faustus, it was interesting, watching her cave in to the little bit of extra pressure. She was indeed their pawn - unforgivable. How they earned her trust, the Elf could not fathom. At least not yet, he knew. The young man however, started speaking again, and already, Faustus wanted him crucified, so, so badly. He might not have understood the tongue, but he knew petulance and insolence when he saw it! The moment the fool started up his babbling monologue though, Faustus took note of what he could while holding back his ire. What was this drivel?

He deserved his yamsack removed at the very least!

"Deus, obsecro clauditis," the Consul replied in Elvish Imperial. 'God, please shut up'. The little one standing on the table bowed however.

"As you can see, they are fools who know nothing but soldiery and have not a trace of intrigue or subterfuge - I ask you to forgive them," Sif politely spoke up. "Please feel free to strike him once!" Sif bowed up and down again for emphasis, a sly smile on her face. Despite being in the position of power, she did amuse him, he admitted. He could respect her. The corner of his mouth lifting in a small smile, Faustus replied,

"Alas, I am too injured to do so - if one of you could so kindly strike him across the mouth for me, I would be most happy," the blond haired elf wryly remarked. "As for the gold, I suppose I could spare some to help with your home." Rubbing his chin, he pondered. He had read of villages from the Far East, secluded and hidden from prying eyes. Could they have come from one? "Yes. I can certainly aid your Hidden Village." It was best not to be on the bad side of one - their assassins were legendary. He would have to contact their...what was the leader called? A 'Kage' was it? Their village destroyed...

Could the prophecy be coming true?

'We tried talking our way out of things, but since the last squad was just as bumbling as you lot are save for one, he wanted to nail us to several crosses. Since you all answered my distress call, I guess we're the de-facto rulers since we just felled their government,' Sif dourly spoke to them in their minds. With a bored fury, she looked at them all. 'Also, I think he thinks we're from a Ninja Clan now. Thanks a lot whatever your name is,' the Mini-Neko remarked regarding Brynhildr, completely deadpan and aloof. "Let them practice a little more. They need to think," Sif replied to them all with a plain, deadpan voice. Staring at them all however, she had one thing to ask. "Well?"

It was hard to tell if this was regarding their ideas, or if someone was going to smack Werner.

'We have a mission, and we don't want to needlessly disturb the locals if it can be helped. What kinds of request would aid is?' she sternly asked of them.
 
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Tahariel Valoel quietly observed the meeting from a corner of the room. A dusty, brown shawl covered her rather plain travelling clothes that she had 'borrowed' from somewhere in the city. The shawl itself seemed old, but it cloaked her little winglets nicely from the locals' view. Of course, the other Star Army personnel knew that the Elysian had them, but so far her secret was safe. She didn't want any unwanted attention to put a risk to her first mission after all!

Speaking of the mission, her face was abnormally pale, even for her. The previous battle had been a shock to her... so chaotic and... barbaric. Perhaps the Star Army wasn't what she had thought it was... Either way, her duty was to complete the mission and get home safely. Her white eyes set into an almond shape hinted at a further mixed ancestry while scanning the room from her safe perch in the corner.

Why was the Yamataian... Werner was his name? Why was he being such a doodyhead? The call from Sif to slap Werner was a bit shocking as well, as it seemed a bit unorthodox... Should she do it? Tahariel was not sure... A soft blush touched her pale cheeks as her imagination attempted to fathom numerous ways her slapping him would fail utterly and completely. The small Plebeian decided that maybe her corner was the safest place at this particular moment.
 
Shinobue Mioshi tapped her iron-shod staff on the marble floor to get attention, from where she had been sitting on her stool near the door watching this exchange.

She looked at Sif from beneath her short, white, hime-cut bangs. This is what we're dealing with, huh? those eyes seemed to ask, without bothering with even the infantismally short space of telepathy.

"Kuro-neko," she said, softly, once the flutist had all the attention of the room. She was wearing traveling clothes, nondescript, a brown cloak with a brassier and a white cotton shirt beneath. Though she wasn't the most well-endowed nekovalkryja, the way the leather ties fell at the neckline might have excited the imagination anyway. Her knee-high, slender boots looked a bit elvish, but not exactly, and the brown cloth beneath that constituted her trousers clung tight, but flexible. In essence, she looked like a traveling performer, with loose clothes that puffed out in the sleeves, humble but grand in their own way. In reality, Sif knew that she was the one who hadn't been an idiot, and it wasn't her blood that decorated the iron-shod stave.

"Kuro-neko," she repeated, "is still at large, with your artifact. Now, I am sorry about your guards, that was very regrettable. I am sorry about taking over your town, that is also very regrettable. With respect, you gave us little choice.

"Part of my story before was true, but part of it was false," she recalled - calling to mind, perhaps, that she had previously introduced herself as one of the Empress's advisors. She might continue on with it, though it seemed as though she'd been given the same sort of stuff to work with as before - this time, she shared the incident from her own eyes, along with everything that she had said in that particular interaction with her new companions - those of them that could receive direct memories, did. Mioshi was fast learning that, in the field, working alone was her preference - but she enjoyed watching them play pretend all the same. "It does not matter which, only that you must now help us. Have Titus ready horses, and have your servants clean the palace. If there is a commander of the palace, have him issue regular orders to the gate guards of both sections of the city, to restore normalcy. Then since this young lady is a healer, she shall restore the ear I broke, and the rest of your soldiers we injured here, if she can.

"We will not be ruling your city. You shall do that, knowing best about it. But you shall work for us and cave into the simple demands of my servants, who look after the Imperial interest. Cooperate and your city shall return to you swiftly, for we must move on from it and cannot linger. Deus is correct. Time grows short, and we must be on.

"Everything that you know about the artifact, that your culture can tell us about the Prophecy, divulge, and then we shall be off after the robber who took your piece of it from you."

Though all of this was delivered in the gentle tone of a singer and flutist, humble and genial, she knew that she might be stepping on a few people's toes here; but she didn't enjoy Sif's game, either, and wanted to make something clear; Mioshi had played a lot of video games, and had invested a lot of stats into the bluff skill.

"If this is agreeable to you, Sif? To the rest of you?"
 
The Prophecy? The Divulge? An Artifact? A robber? What was this Neko talking about? Well, at this point, it didn't matter if Werner understood anything that was happening right now anyway. What was important was that the Neko SEEMED to know what she was talking about, and therefore one of the only people that he could actually trust to know about what the hell was going on. Sif as well, maybe, he still wasn't sure on how this new world had caused him to act or how everyone else seems to think about SIf. In short, Werner was glad that someone was able to take charge and lead the group forward... or anywhere really instead of walking around like a bumbling idiot like he was a couple of days ago.

Yet, Werner couldn't help but to wonder what all of that meant, the Prophecy and such and such. It was enough to distract him from any threats of violence against his person and the sudden out burst of the Imperial language. Speaking about the Elves, Werner would not believe that the Elf would follow them so soundly after they had left. What would be more likely would be that the Elvish Consul would let the party go, and then set up an ambush for their eventual return so he no longer as to serve as a tributary of sorts nor owe another being a debt. Yet it was a solid step in the right direction, and Werner nodded in agreement when he saw the Neko try to make amends. He appreciated that someone was trying to keep them alive and relatively enemy free

"Of course I'm right!" Scoffed Werner, crossing his arms across his chest, at the mention that Deus was correct.

Werner thought that he would get along with this Neko. In fact, she reminded Werner of his younger sister, always playing video games, reading up on Ancient history, and trying to act all cool in front of people as if she were a diplomat. Except this Neko, who captured the attention of the entire room, was actually being cool, and doing a good job. Walstra Werner would gladly follow Shinobue-San.

"But what about a prisoner from him? As a sign of good faith you know? After all, it seems we are chasing after his stolen property, wouldn't it be a nice idea for him to give up a family member to join us on the quest? This IS for him and his artifact after all, and he wouldn't betray us when his kin is with us." He stomped his way forward to the Elvish leader, and for the first time, spoke in a language he could understand.

"How about it? Do you have any children that are of age or are closing up to their adulthood, hmmm?" threatened Werner

of course there was one problem

'What is the Artifact?'
 
The entrance of the musically inclined Neko seemed to calm Tahariel somewhat. Her face returned to its normal complexion. However, that's when the loud Yamataian opened his big mouth again. Sighing softly, the Elysian padded over to him. "...sorry..." she whispered the first word anyone had heard from her so far, but her own accent of the local language was slightly different from the rest.

Once in range, a small hand produced itself from under her shawl and proceeded to smack Werner. It... did not go well. Instead of a healthy wack sound, those in the room barely heard the sound of skin-on-skin contact. She may as well have high fived him... in the face.

Afterwards, Tahariel could practically feel the silence surrounding her, so she just looked at her feet gingerly, wondering what she should do now. The Plebeian had never slapped someone before... should she perhaps spit on him? If the rumors of deviant Yamataian tastes were true, then he might just enjoy it... Maybe he even enjoyed the slap?!? The blush returned to her cheeks as the awkward moment continued.
 
Werner froze as he felt the prick on his cheek, stuck still looking at the Elvish consul. His body was stiff, was that his imagination? Werner twitched his eye toward where the insignificant sensation came from, and from his peripheral vision, Werner saw a sickly girl. Werner tilted his head slightly up, allowing anyone who was shorter than him to see his flared nostrils clearly. So it wasn't my imagination after all.

Without turning to face her, Werner lashed out with one hand and grabbed the hand Tahariel had used against him. He held on tightly, and made sure it to grip hard enough to cause discomfort, and to make it hard to break free from. Taking a deep breath, Werner turned his entire body to look down on the Elysian who came out of nowhere with, and greeted her with a raised frown of growing displeasure and annoyance. The smile Werner flared at Tahariel was most definitely not an amiable one, neither was the hand that he raised to his temple which was attempting to magically reduce the massive vein that had appeared there.

"Ca- can you explain to me what the was about birdbrain?" growled Werner.

If there wasn't a sudden silence, maybe Werner wouldn't have noticed. However, since he did, Werner would not stand for the fact that this girl had the gall to strike him. They were of the same rank too, so he had no reason to hold back. Werner was already busy imagining all sorts of damage that he could deal to this one in less than a second... but then refused.

Werner took pleasure in giving pain sure, but only when his victims struggled or their pride still stood strong. This Elysian wouldn't even last a second of his own personal interrogation methods. In fact, her frail skin convinced him that this Elysian was extremely weak. The blush that he saw her make also made Werner suspect that Tahariel was also very naive. Werner could not bring himself to injure this girl, it would be pointless. So instead, he let his anger slide, and his grip soften.

Out of everyone in this room, the weakest was the only one brave, or stupid enough to strike at him. That much deserved respect in Werner's eyes. Unconsciously, Werner reached out and patted her head.

"That was uncalled for, I am sorry." Were the Yamataigo words that escaped Werner.

Those words rarely spoken to anyone. Though soon, Werner realized where he was again and retracted his hand back to his sides. He looked at Sif,

"Yeah, I'm down for anything if you guys are ready for it, i'll shut up now."

Werner retreated to the back of the group. At first he was skeptical about this team that he was haphazardly signed up with, but it seemed that they were going to be all right to work with. Werner would be happy to work with these guys after all it seemed.
 
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Brynhildr observed the group. First hearing one of her co-workers request to be taught in light magic. It could certainly become helpful in their mission. But then her hope that they would succeed where their predecessors failed came crashing down as some idiot became speaking their native tongue again. He first tried to accuse her of lying, which did not fancy with her. It took time and dedication to pretend to be someone else, and she did it all the time. It would just be a matter of time before the 'Pilgrim' would destroy their chances at doing anything on this world. But her mind was lifted from the gutters when the consul began to speak once again, listening attentively for anything she can use in her persona. "Thank you Consul, the gold will be put to good use to help the families hurt by this incident.......and I apologize for this fool's arrogance." She said simply, eyeing the guy, preparing to jump over the table and take him down as requested. In her mind, she thought of how to attack him as a local, try to blend in. Would a drow even attack an outsider from the far east? She did not know, and before she could make up her mind, her commanding officer complained about her. But all she did was tune it out, focusing on solely her character. If anyone should be scolded, it should be the 'pilgrim' anyhow. Soon after, what seemed like an expert started to talk. Where was this woman when the conversation started? Brynhildr in fact knew little of what the woman talked about, but it sounded right, so she nodded slightly, agreeing long as she received the gold.

Brynhildr scolded the 'pilgrim' once again as he demanded a slave. "We are not savages. Gold to restore my town and cooperation is all we need." She spat out in the local tongue, looking at the man then at the Consul, with a look of 'I am sorry' once again on her face, or was it? She didn't know, her facial expressions were not always on point. Brynhildr watched in shock as the young sickly girl with them slapped the 'pilgrim'. She about jumped over the able once he angrily grabbed her arm, but luckily she did not have to, as he let go and apologized.
 
The Mini-Neko snickered as the Plebeian-bird tried to feebly slap the young man, but as Sif believed, once a slave? All too often, always a slave. As Mioshi spoke however, the expression on Sif's face could only be described as one of serene peace.

This was the kind of thinking that she wanted them to make, even if she was making this into a game for them to try and digest it. Their mashed-together squad had objectives after all. First, to find out the source of the nano-tech based 'magic' on this world, and hopefully a command center. Without waking or provoking the ancient AI likely stewarding it all of course. And second? To find their wayward and possibly AWOL commander, Kuroneko. That meant that any demands they made had to aid them in this line, with any 'camouflage' into the world being a concern, but a minor one.

Mioshi met all this criteria brilliantly, though aside? Faustus looked at Brynhyldr with furrowed brows. She was not at all like the many other Drow he had met. However, that wasn't as relevant. The look that little Sif gave Werner from her spot on the table top was less than approving, and as the Mini-Neko turned about upon the table, the rest of them all saw it too and understood. It was a look that said,

'This is what I have to put up with.' In the end however, Sif broke that awkward silence with her stoic, deadpan words. "What she said. Still, could you get this lot learned, Consul?" With a sigh filled with sympathy, the Consul began.

"These dark artifacts are the pieces of armor belonging to the last great Dark Lord, centuries upon centuries ago when the Elvish Empire and its Eternal City were at the highest, brightest pinnacle of their lives," he grimly began recalling the tale in-brief for them. "As with all things with a beginning however, we were to have an end, and we feared its coming. The signs were all around us, as they are now. You know them," Faustus knowingly looked at each of them in turn. "Kobolds slinking, slithering in the darkness, whispering to each other in their twisted dragon-tongue. Goblins raping and pillaging the countryside, multiplying like a plague. Hobgoblins bearing their great shields and spears for war. It's only a matter of time before the orcs muster great armies again in places were no man can go; the agents of evil stir again, restless." The elvish Consul of this forest city-state sighed.

It had come to this, all over again.

"To prevent this, we made to produce the first in the finest suits of armor - so capable that it would be a weapon in and of itself." The elf's years began to show as he shook his head, weary and tired. "We were fools. The armor was commissioned by none other than the Dark Lord itself, tricking us in fair guise, and once complete, what belonged to it returned to it. The war was long and terrible, but with the last light, the final breath of life from our mighty empire, the Dark Lord fell, its indestructible pieces of armor spread to the four corners of the world for safe keeping," Faustus explained.

Silent up until this point, the young human noblewoman spoke up.

"W-wait. I was always told that this was just myth," Adelaide began, a little startled and confused. "Legend - that we revolted against your rule, and eventually brought your empire crumbling down," she added. "The thing in that box, I looked when I was a child, touched it. Held it even! It was just some flimsy piece of armor!" The elf however, simply smiled, his features all too sad.

"With time, history became legend, and legend became myth, and as their power faded, rendering them mere relics, some things that should not have become forgotten, were lost." His mourning smile faded into a proper frown however. "Have you looked again lately? Its power returns, the chest sealing its terrible might. I may have been just young enough to escape being levied when it all came tumbling down, but I was still old enough to know. Understand it all. And now, all of you do as well, yes?" Faustus frowned again, steeping his hands together in thought.

Just how many pieces were 'lost'?
 
"Eep!" Tahariel's surprised cry came when Werner grabbed her hand suddenly. His grip was like iron, and the pain ran through her arm. From the look on his face, he definitely did not enjoy it! The small-framed Elysian trembled a little, baby tears forming as she mustered a reply, "I.. I..." Thankfully, he seemed to have other things on his mind, and she managed to pull away from his grip before backing away slowly from the scary Minkan.

Whispering a quick prayer of thanks and protection, Tahariel retreated back to her corner. The tussle had allowed her shawl's hood to fall back, revealing her long, ash blonde hair. Thankfully, the shawl itself had not come undone or her wings would've been on display for all to see. The Consul was talking again, and she made sure to listen. Perhaps if they focused on the mission, they could get home sooner so she could tinker on her various projects again?

The story itself seemed to come from ancient books of legend. Idly toying with the cross around her neck as she listened, Tahariel vaguely wondered what the different between a Goblin and a Hobgoblin was... and the thought of meeting either in a dark alley chilled her to the bone. Maybe she should've just stayed on the ship?
 
"It sounds to me that your people were just plain idiotic, you only made one suit of Godly armor, and then gave it to ONE guy? You guys didn't bother to make another suit of armor during the long ass war you guys fought in? I think that would be pretty helpful in fighting that war." Werner Blankly called back.

In the span of less-than-a-minute, Werner had broken his word to shut his ugly mouth. However it couldn't contain his silence when he heard his peoples "Tragic" backstory. Sure it sucks that many of his people died, but he wouldn't feel empathy for them either. They were like cavemen who created a fire, giving it to someone who intentions to burn someone, and then ending up to be the ones burnt. In short, they were dumb. In this land where the laws of physics did not seem to apply, there should be thousands of methods to defeat a person in magical armor without even fighting said individual.

Werner couldn't say all of that though, even just saying one word was too much right now, and he already exceeded his limit. He looked around everyone who gave him a stink eye before, and the one who pricked him.

"Just sayin', thinking outloud you know? Sorry, this time for real, I'll shut up."

So far, Werner was getting the impression no one in this room liked him very much.
 
The medic didn't know what to say. She wasn't used to having to deal with things like tactics or history. All she was good at was fixing people's injuries. The arrival of someone who knew what they were doing relieved her. She wasn't afraid they were all going to die anymore. Her frown became a smile. Listening to Werner threatened to drag her back into paranoia.

She sighed. I really want to slap this guy, she thought. Luckily for Werner, she was not the violent type. She flashed a bright smile at the elf man. "May I see to your injuries, sir? I am trained in the art of healing without magic." Tomiko said, walking over to the Consul. The whole story about the Dark Lord was ludicrous of course. The actual magic had to be science that these simple people couldn't understand.

She leaned over the Consul, putting her face mere inches away as she examined the man's bruises. Her hands touched his face, turning it left and then right. She sighed again. It would be easy to fix his ear with access to technology, but there wasn't much she could do. Tomiko stood back up and walked over to Werner. "If you lay your hands on that girl again, you will be begging me to save your life one day, and I will treat you. But I might make a horrible mistake that ends up making your death slow and painful," Tomiko said cheerfully. "Understand?"
 
She listened carefully as the man spoke about these mysterious legends that were apparently true. It certainly could help her character, so she mentally noted everything. If it was possible for her to feel bad, she most likely would have, but she was bred for war- she didn't feel bad about anything. It was all very interesting-many deaths, artifacts, a suit of armor. That was until the 'pilgrim' interrupted her train of thought with his absurd yelling. Would a Drow threaten him? She didn't know, but from the look of things, they usually were hostile, so it was worth a shot. She peered over to him then to Sif then back over to the pilgrim. "If I hear one more word out of you I will cut out your tongue. The most idiotic one here would be you." She barked, showing her character had an angry side to- perhaps due to having Drow heritage? She did not know. After her threat she quickly changing to a mental message. -Sorry Ma'am, I am just trying to stay in character and convince him I am a local.- She said telepathically to her superior officer. When she barked out her threat, she leaned in on the table, staring at the pilgrim. In her mind was only about if she was doing stuff Drow would do and if the Consul was falling for it. At least the woman was healing the Consul- perhaps they could all be friends now, and make him a little less weary of them.
 
To Mioshi, the story seemed familiar. It was the same sort of story that appeared in old folk tales or farcical video games. Since that's what this all seemed like to Mioshi, she decided to just accept it. Actually, it sounded like a lot of fun. As far as she knew, this would lead her to her original objective on this planet, since it seemed like her original objective had decided to go ahead and fulfill one of this world's prophecies.

Inside, she squealed. Outwardly, she kept her expression carefully masked, remembering the part she was supposed to be playing here. Mioshi the Flutist.

She asked, after everybody had gone done - noting the way that her new comrades acted with a little bit of hidden depression because couldn't they just play along with this? - "And Kuroneko stole the armor. So, you must have some idea of where she has fled? Perhaps, to the very beasts that would see the Dark Lord, reborn?"

Just saying it all gave her a little thrill. She used her voice-of-prophecy, well-practiced in the shower.
 
Meeting Room

What in heavens was with this man? Adelaide couldn't figure it out. There was just something so...so abrasive about him! He was mean! Watching the Consul's frown turn into a narrow eyed scowl, she sat ramrod straight as the Elf spoke, set on edge by Werner's crummy attitude.

"Yes, well, making more becomes a challenge when the forge masters are dead along with their secrets," Faustus pointed out matter-of-factly, forgetting the more important questions the others asked as his ire rose. Normally, Adelaide would be scared of him, or any elf, but in this case, she was not quite as scared. No, her allies seemed more scary in fact! They practically moved with godly grace, yet as a group were bumbling. It was utterly mind boggling! "Well, enough of that," the elvish Consul sighed. "I'll make the arra - "

"I have cookies!" a little girl dressed in a little version of Adelaide's dress came bursting in, the wooden doors nearly smacking some of their number. Holding high a silver platter of exactly what she had promised, the princess' heart skipped as Coco laid them all down for everyone to snack on. A hand upon her pillowy chest, the young woman tried breathing a little more slowly. Though her handmaiden was as absurd as this group, looking like a nine or ten year old, she was at least reliable.

"Yes. Well. I'll make the arrangements, the maps and send you the gold shortly," Faustus began again, helping himself to a cookie. "I just hope you do find it though - I'd be certain to reward you well for your effort. Once you're ready to depart, Titus will explain more to you as you're escorted out of our domain." Remembering her end of the deal that Mioshi had outlined, Adelaide nearly squeaked in fear at having almost forgotten it. Rising from her seat as calmly as possible, she took a few nervous steps around the table and approached the Elf's side. Raising a hand, she closed her eyes and focused.

As a white light emanated from her hand, his ear unbent as his eye became unbruised; in moments, he was healed. It wasn't long after that Sif ushered them all out - they needed to get themselves lots of stuffs for the journey ahead.

*****

Market

"Hora-hora! You're back!" a flaming red-orange headed young woman exclaimed. Green eyes gleaming, she wiped her hands on her blacksmith's apron and rushed over. "Well, most of you; I saw the others pass by earlier too. There's so many of you here now, it's just bizarre," she remarked, utterly excited. "What happened? There was quite a commotion," the woman pointed out. Though her ears were feline enough like a Neko's own, there was something that had her stand apart in her own class. A trio of large, vulpine tails excitedly swayed about, almost like they were wagging. This woman was, without a doubt, something from Yamatai's lore.

A kitsune.

"A minor misunderstanding Aiko, nothing more," Sif explained to her, ever aloof. "Could you help outfit these newcomers? Some of them are as bare and helpless as new kittens," the Mini-Neko flatly noted. A glint of light flickered through the Kitsune's eyes as her tails rose with excitement.

"I'd be delighted to! This way," she ushered them into her shop. "You can see I've got city equipment such as padded jacks, lorica segmentata and hamata, as well as pilum and plumbata," Aiko began, listing just a few of the things on hand. There was more to choose from of course. She didn't mention the swords on hand yet, both the broader and shorter, as well as the longer, more slender counterpart. The same went for the selection of arrows and arrow heads, not mentioning the crossbows she had likely worked to make on her own. "Of course, if you want something that's from home, I have a good selection of Ō-yoroi and Dō-maru - you won't regret them, since I got the silk for them from the best place possible! There's even some katana to choose from too," she helpfully pointed out. Looking back and forward though, she leaned in close and whispered, "Just between you and me, the Dō-maru is way more comfy than the stuff they got around here."

As Coco pretended to be a samurai practicing her draw cut in the background, Adelaide carefully looked at the armors. They were indeed very different from those made in her kingdom, as well as those here in this elf ruled city.

"I don't mean to be rude, but, is it just me, or are these Ostlandi armors not quite as sturdy as ours? There's so many small tile-plates and silk weaving. T-they're certainly beautiful though!" the princess quickly added. Even with the extra flattery, the Kitsune looked a little sheepish.

"Yeah, well, since we're primarily horseback archers back home; we needed the extra mobility and comfort," Aiko explained. "Ettooo....home also had much less iron to work with, and of much worse quality," she admitted. "I swear, if someone asked me to make a new suit, I'd likely be able to use larger plates or something instead with how much there is around here!"

"Nani-kore?!" Coco exclaimed, lifting a massive, spike studded war-club precariously high over her head.

"C-careful! Put that kanabō down!" the Kitsune exclaimed in shock. With a groan of displeasure, the little girl did just that, grumbling. "Phew. Well, if there's anything in specific, let me know! I'm sure I'll find more for you all as I dig around too."
 
After her previous failed attempt, there was absolutely no way that the Elysian would try to slap Werner again... even though she was tempted. Thankfully, his latest outburst seemed to cause others to criticize him in a more verbal fashion. Their medic's threat was highly unprofessional, but Tahariel's blush continued as it was meant to defend her, of all people. The meeting came to an end, and the mechanic managed to sneak out first from her corner that was strategically placed closest to the door.

The meeting room gave way to the market area surprisingly quick. As the group mingled about the wares after the kitsune's speech, Tahariel couldn't help but fidget while examining the many different weapons and armor. Born and raised on Elysia Novus, she had never been around Yamataian weaponry to know the cultural references behind them. Some of them did remind her of Elysian arms of legend, but they also seemed too heavy for her to wield effectively.

With a bashful look on her small face, Tahariel hesitantly approached Aiko shortly after the foxgirl had disarmed the crazy assistant doppleganger. "Um... A-Aiko-sama! Please excuse me. I.. I am not familiar with many of these items. What do you suggest that I use?" She gathered the shawl around her protectively in case the wind decided to pick up to not only keep herself warm but to continue hiding the wings on her back.
 
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