- Messages
- 29
- Character Biography
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Track and report, that was more or less what her missive stated when she had read it.
Bexley drew up the hood to her leather jacket enough that it did not block most of her peripherals, waiting for the partner they assigned her for such a mundane task. If this had been the old days, she would be insisting on going alone, but now matters of Dreadlords were now organised by the Anirian Guard. They already hated Dreadlords, and they would come to hate her if she pressed on the matter, but Bexley soon calmed after meeting the Academy Initiate they threw at her.
Marcia was no slouch, a quality Bexley had anticipated due to the majority of their core learning years were under Revolution teachings, and she was convinced all Initiates would be too soft for the field these days. The girl was hardly anything spectacular, at least not yet, but with the right training and guidance, she was sure Marcia would be an aexcellent addition to the Dreadlord ranks.
She also possessed a gift not many are known to wield. While the noblewoman sat at her table, nursing a glass of red wine, she frowned at the sanguine colour and pretended to enjoy it without having taken a sip from it. Wine still left a bitterness not found in the grape, a bitterness that came from her wasted time at the Royal Keep and losing her chance to make her family proud by becoming the next Queen of Vel Anir.
Once she spotted the Initiate, she straightened and pushed the glass towards the seated Initiate. "When I was an Initiate, they had forbade us to indulge. Help yourself, I think you earned it." She had earned it for not irking the older Dreadlord straight away, and thus made this mundane task something to study. "Did you follow Lady Willcott?"
Bexley drew up the hood to her leather jacket enough that it did not block most of her peripherals, waiting for the partner they assigned her for such a mundane task. If this had been the old days, she would be insisting on going alone, but now matters of Dreadlords were now organised by the Anirian Guard. They already hated Dreadlords, and they would come to hate her if she pressed on the matter, but Bexley soon calmed after meeting the Academy Initiate they threw at her.
Marcia was no slouch, a quality Bexley had anticipated due to the majority of their core learning years were under Revolution teachings, and she was convinced all Initiates would be too soft for the field these days. The girl was hardly anything spectacular, at least not yet, but with the right training and guidance, she was sure Marcia would be an aexcellent addition to the Dreadlord ranks.
She also possessed a gift not many are known to wield. While the noblewoman sat at her table, nursing a glass of red wine, she frowned at the sanguine colour and pretended to enjoy it without having taken a sip from it. Wine still left a bitterness not found in the grape, a bitterness that came from her wasted time at the Royal Keep and losing her chance to make her family proud by becoming the next Queen of Vel Anir.
Once she spotted the Initiate, she straightened and pushed the glass towards the seated Initiate. "When I was an Initiate, they had forbade us to indulge. Help yourself, I think you earned it." She had earned it for not irking the older Dreadlord straight away, and thus made this mundane task something to study. "Did you follow Lady Willcott?"