Private Tales New Places, New Faces

A private roleplay only for those invited by the first writer
"No," she huffed. "I think the best course of action is to get answers. And if the demons are coming here to kill my family and I how much better would it be to be somewhere they don't expect me to be?"

She stared at him in challenge.

Arms crossed stiffly beneath her chest as she glared Kir down. Okay, so now she might be acting somewhat like a petulant child but he'd called her a child too many times and this time it went too far. "Get out of my room," she growled.
 
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"Ah so you'll just leave your family to die then, brilliant and not at all selfish." The words were bitter, and not at all fair, but true.

Neveah was once again thinking of herself, not the whole. What she wanted to do, what she herself thought would bring the best result. Yet it left out so much. Cutting away the safety of her family, her own knowledge of the enemy.

Not to mention there was no doubt at all her parents would send someone after her. Especially after what had happened tonight. More lives would be wasted. "Grow up."

He told her.

"Maybe the reason your father treats you like a child is because you constantly act like one." A harsh truth to hear, one that he had heard himself. Perhaps it was something she needed now, just as he had then.
 
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Legs uncrossed in an instant. She was out of her bed even faster. Pajama-clad form stopped in front of the giant man.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” voice was low, shaking with frustration and anger. She wasn’t going to leave her family. She wanted to find answers to save them instead of being trapped here.

How could he not see that through his dense bear fur?

“And stop calling me that. Get. Out.” Stepping forward, she’d push him toward her door. Or try to.
 
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"I know exactly what I'm talking about." Kir said with a roll of his eyes as Neveah's hands pressed into his chest plate.

It was as though she were throwing herself against a brick wall. Solid muscle met her palms as she tried to shove him away, a roll of his eyes carrying through his expression before he slowly took a single step back to let her kilter forward.

There was so much more to say, but he wasn't going to be the one to say it.

He was a bodyguard, not a fucking babysitter. "Gladly."

Kir told her. "Oh and don't bother trying to sneak out the gardens, I told the Commander to post more Guards under your balcony."

That wasn't true, but Neveah didn't need to know.
 
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It was like moving a veritable mountain of stone. A rather stern mountain who did not understand and was very condescending. She was grateful when he moved because she was about a second away from shifting and dragging his ass out herself.

With a huff, she slammed the door in his face but didn't lock it.

Turning from the door, her shoulders slumped. Worry creased her brow. She could already feel her emotions swelling. Crawling back into her bed, she curled up on her side with her back to the door and started crying. Tears streamed down her brown skin and splashed onto her pillow. She didn't bother wiping them away.

She missed her sister. She'd know what to do and she wasn't here anymore to comfort her. She was worried about her parents and their safety. And she felt so...useless just waiting here.

Finally wiping the moisture from her eyes, she force them closed and tried to drift off to sleep.
 
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Kir, true to his word, did step outside.

There was not much else he could do, not without painting himself a liar. For a brief moment as he closed the door behind himself he considered simply walking away.

It would have been easy enough. He could giveback the cold, offer the purse to the King and simply walk away. There would always be another gig, another hero to do as they could. That was...that was really an option. It was an odd thing.

Yet he did not want it.

Not now.

"Fuck it." Kir said with a shakeof his head. Stalking once more to that other balcony to lean against the railing and wait.6
 
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She didn’t sleep so much. Mostly nightmares. She was always chasing after her sister but could never quite reach her. Never get her to stop being busy in the dreams.

Thrashing in bed, she finally jolted awake. A hand pushed through dark curly hair. Her skin was moist and warm. Like she’d been running not only just in her dream.

Slipping from bed, she walked over to her door and opened it. Perhaps something from the kitchen would help.
 
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Surprisingly, perhaps, Kir was not standing in the hallway when Neveah stepped outside.

He had decided to hang back, knowing that her reaction to seeing him would likely not be a good one. Instead he'd decided to hang back, paying one of the palace servants a few coppers to come running whenever she left her room.

It was that boy who woke him, gently shaking him.

"She's heading to the kitchen, ser."​

A groggy grunt escaped Kir as he roused himself, head tipping in a nod. "Thank you, lad."

The Werebear said as he pulled himself up from the ground. "Go get some sleep."

He told the boy, pulling himself into the hallway and quietly following after Neveah. Ducking into crevaces and halls when she looked back.
 
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Guards came to attention as she passed. There were more out than usual. Barefeet padded down the tiled hallways as she wound through the arched and high doorways. But it was quiet. The middle of the night. Lanterns flickered with candlelight nearly halfway down the wicks.

Another set of doors lead her to the large domain of the kitchen. A large prep island in the center with stools on two sides. Ovens and fireplaces on one of the back walls. Shelves of food and grains. A few massive iceboxes. The cooks and kitchen boys were long since asleep.

Which Neveah preferred.

She wouldn't want to wake them or have them fussing over her. Walking to the icebox, she pulled the door open and took out a bottle of milk. A mug and a dash of cinnamon and chocolate. The ingredients were quickly combined and heated as she was left with some warm cinnamon chocolate-milk.

She took a sip and lifted her head toward the door when she heard voices.

Strange that someone else was up right now.
 
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Neither of the voices was Kir's.

He had left behind the lad and quietly followed behind Neveah. His steps were shockingly quiet, specifically given his size. He followed in the same path as the Princess without much issue, hiding from sight within the alcoves of the castle itself.

Their path was a quick, curt one, and as Neveah made her midnight treat Kir listened quietly outside the kitchen door. Maybe she'll stay put for once.

Kir thought hopefully.

Then the voices echoed out. Lips thinned almost immediately fingers tightening against the wall as he pressed himself flush.

"She's not in her room."

"Where is she then? We were told that she-"

"Shhh. Someone's close."
 
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She relaxed, recognizing one of the Vizier's voices. And the second she was pretty sure was Marilynn, the second in command of the guard. Taking her mug, she walked toward the doorway, intending to announce her presence when she paused in the shadows as she heard them.

"You're just being paranoid."

"It's my job to be paranoid."

"You promised she'd be an easy target. Just like her sister."

Neveah froze, holding her breath. Her grip tightening on her mug.

"Be patient. I didn't know they'd hire outside help."

"Well, he won't be happy."

Neveah began backing away from the door, her back bumping lightly into the island, knocking the spoon with a clatter just so. Shit.

"Quiet. I think there's someone...."

Mairlynn looked surprised. The vizier looked like a cat that caught a canary. "Hello, princess," the vizier's smile widened.
 
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Kir stayed silent.

The words rang in the air, and the voices...the voices were an echo of familiarity. He didn't know them, but he knew enough to listen. Every thing they said seemed to dig the hole deeper, drag through a trench, and then suddenly...

"Hello, Princess."

Fuck. Kir thought to himself as he heard the voice echo out. Fingers flickered into fists almost immediately, and then he swept forward into the hall.

As Mariylynn and the Vizier loomed over Neveah, so did Kir loom over them.

The Massive werebear stepped in a silent crusade, his gaze falling over the two of them as he slowly made his way down the hall and towards the two. The Princess would see him, stalking forward like a hunter moving towards it's prey.

There was no question of what would happen when he reached them.
 
Neveah couldn't shift. She'd done it too soon and hadn't had a chance to rest properly between. And save for the spoon she bumped into, there wasn't anything she could use as a weapon. The knives were back by the entrance, where the vizier and Marilynn stood.

She quickly stepped around the island, keeping it between herself and the two approaching. They split, each going around the side but then she saw Kir behind them. In the doorway. Relief and gratitude briefly flashed across her golden eyes.

She'd assumed he'd abandoned her. And she wouldn't have blamed him if he had. But he hadn't. He was here.

"I wouldn't come any closer," she announced. Marilynn paused but the Vizier only grinned wider as he lunged for her.

"Come, don't make this harder than it has to be." Marilynn took that moment to look over her shoulder and swore as she drew her sword.
 
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Kir rolled his shoulders, stretching as the ring of Marilynn's sword echoed out within the kitchen. He stared at her, eyebrow slowly raising. "Are you sure you want to do that?"

He towered over both of them, but that didn't make him immune to blades.

If he could avoid this fight entirely, he would have preferred it. He pulled himself to his full height as he stepped through the doorway. His gaze swept from Marilynn to the Vizier, hands coming up as he cracked his knuckles.

"Even with a sword." Kir pointed out. "I have double your reach."

There Werebear took a step forward. "And it'll take more than a few cuts to bring me down."
 
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The Vizier stumbled as he swiped at Neveah. Neveah dodged, just barely and took a sip of her warm chocolate-cinnamon milk. He turned around and looked up, up, up at Kir. A scowl immediately crossed his weathered face.

Marilynn took a step back as Kir took a step forward. Her sword raised and pointed, determined to keep steel between them. The Vizier also stepped back.

The problem was, Neveah had nowhere else to go. She was caught between Marilynn and the Vizier. Even with Kir boxing them all into the kitchen.

"Oh please. What are they paying you? We can pay you double. All you have to do is turn around and walk away. Pretend you never saw us," the Vizier spoke first. Keeping his gaze on Kir even as he stepped back, closer to Neveah.
 
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"Don't." Kir said as he took a single step forward. It was the plight of a mercenary, so far as he knew it. Money was what they were there for. It was the whole reason that most of them did anything at all.

Kir was no different.

He had taken this job because the pay was good, he had stuck with it because the pay was good. Any mercenary worth his salt might have taken the Vizier up on his offer. Taken the bag of gold and simply walked away.

Trouble was, Kir hadn't always been a mercenary. "Patronize me, little boy."

Kir spoke as he stepped forward. Marilynn seemed to shift, moving towards him, but as she did Kir reached out. His hand snapped at the sword, grasping it and wrenching it from her hand in one swift move.

"You'd think I'd take gold to let you kill another little girl?" He hissed, and then suddenly his hand flickered again and threw Marilynn across the room. One second his hand wrapped around her throat, the next she was scattered against the far wall. As though he'd tossed a small child.
 
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As Kir took care of Marilynn, Neveah lunged for the now free space. But there was a tang of magic in the air as she found an invisible rope tug tightly around her and snapping her back into the Vizier's chest and awaiting arms. Golden-eyes widened then narrowed as she felt the cold, prick of sharp steel on her throat.

"You stop right there BEAST!" He practically spit. Neveah could feel the fear in his pumping heart. "I will spill her all over this floor if you don't fucking back up and out of this kitchen. Right. Now." He took a step forward and carved the knife against her throat, creating a thin, shallow red line of blood.

Neveah tried not to wince.

And for the first time, she wasn't worried. Even at knife point. Because Kir hadn't traded sides. He hadn't just gone for the money offer the Vizier offered. He was sticking with her. He wasn't going to abandon her like she assumed he would.

Her eyes met the werebear's, "I'm sorry," she said, her voice steady. If it was the last thing she said she wanted him to know she was sorry for how they'd left things. For her anger and yelling.

"Shut up!" The Vizier snapped.
 
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Kir stared at the Vizir, his eyes hard.

He hated magic. He'd always hated magic. Sorcerers and Wizards were always the worst to deal with. Haughty, contriving, and utterly bespoke about themselves Kir had never met one he'd liked. Especially down here in the Southlands.

The werebear didn't move a muscle as the Vizier held the blade to Neveah's throat. His eyes catching on the sheen of the knife. "Do you really think that's a good idea?"[/color

He tried to keep his voice in check.

Calm.

The greater half of him, the one taken by the beast wanted to jump forward and tear the man's throat out. He could feel the ache in his teeth, the tips of his fingers which would be claws. He wanted to rip the man apart, end his life.

"You're in the middle of the palace." He reminded the man. "You're not getting out of here alive."

His tone stayed that same neutral call. "Let her go, and I'll let you walk out."
 
The vizier shuffled backward, dragging Neveah with him as he wisely tried to keep the island between himself and Kir. Neveah tried to calm her breathing and herself. There might be a moment.

She just had to wait.

Even as she felt the blood continue to trickle down her brown skin as the knife shifted. Stayed steady. "If I die, you'll have much bigger problems on your hands than me," he snarled.

"Move the fuck out of the way," he challenged as he shifted himself and Neveah forward. Prepared to strike out with an invisible wave of magic to plaster Kir and bind him against the far wall if the fool made a lunge for them.
 
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Kir stood there, staring at the man. "Will I?"

His voice was cold. Stern.

The Vizier was of course, technically right. Neveah dead would mean a whole host of trouble, not just for him but for this whole Kingdom. The Royal Couple had already lost one daughter, what would they do if they lost another.

"Let her go." Kir told the man once more. "And you'll walk out of here."

Kir didn't budge. "Hurt her, and I'll make sure your fate is far worse than death."

His voice was cold steel. "Believe me."
 
A cold bark of laughter from the vizier. His grip around Neveah tightened as he pushed her and himself toward that doorway. Not stopping and not letting Neveah go. It was clear he wasn't afraid of Kir. And Neveah had to wonder who he worked for that made him dismiss someone like Kir.

A shiver ran down her spine.

"I said get the fuk out of the way," he growled and sent an invisible wave of magic into Kir with a flick of his fingers. Neveah tried to lunge forward but felt that knife at her neck and an ironclad grip returning to her arm as the Vizier lunged forward for the door. Dragging and pushing her with him.
 
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The magic flickered forward, rushing through the air like a burst of wind.

In an instant Kir's calm and patient visage seemed to shift. His skin stretched, his jaws unhinged, and the tearing of his boots could be heard as claws burst from finely made leather. The change was so sudden, so instant, that one might have questioned what was buried beneath Kir's flesh all along.

A bestial expression came over Kir, not entirely changed, but bear-like and fierce. Claws dug into the stone floor as the rush of magic staggered the werebear, pushing him back even as his nails dug through the cobbles beneath his feet.

Yet he still stood.

With a pounce like roar he bounded onto the Vizier and Neveah, his claw like hand wrapping around the Vizier's palm. A loud snap echoed out as bone was torn free, Kir's overwhelming strength literally ripping the man's wrist from it's socket as his jaws snapped down onto his skull.
 
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Even though she’d seen the transformation before, it still made her eyes widen. Her heart speed up a little. But she was oddly, not scared.

She trusted him fully and completely.

“Impossible,” the vizier hissed as he saw Kir resist the magic. Neveah felt the knife prick further into her throat even as the blur of claws came forward. She jabbed a sharp elbow behind her as she felt his grip loosen as his hand was ripped from his limb. She stumbled forward and fell, her palm pressing against the blood flowing from her neck.

Funny how black spots wanted to grow across her vision. But she knew she couldn’t go to sleep. If she did, she might never wake up.
 
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Screams echoed through the hall.

The Vizier's lungs practically burst in terror as Kir began to dig into his throat and tear him apart piece by piece. Scraps of flesh were stripped away, bones were shattered, and within mere minutes the one confident and cocky man was nothing but a shredded corpse.

His desperate, pleading calls echoed throughout the castle.

As Neveah lay bleeding on the floor the sound of metallic boots could be heard. Armored men rushed through the corridors, and within mere moments guardsmen began to appear within the door. Some rushed to Neveah, others stepped between the Princess and the beast.

"WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT THING?!"​

They called, shouted.

"Is that the Vizier?!"

"GET IT AWAY FROM THE PRINCESS!"​

Kir, his fur now showing, armor fallen to the floor and his bestial form clear began to take slow steps back. The beast flickered it's gaze between the guards, watching, waiting. If they moved towards him, he knew what he would have to do.
 
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Neveah struggled to sit up but she felt a cool hand on her neck. One of the healers swept forward and into the room, kneeling next to the princess. "Move," the elven woman commanded to the guards. "I've got her." One quick, disgusted look at the shredded body not too far away.

And the beast she paid no mind to other than to say.

"He will not hurt us. Do put your weapons away as I do not have the energy for more healing than what's required."

This was one of the Tower Healer matriarchs. She'd been staying in the palace for the earlier party and had been, luckily for them all, easily within call.

And damn, Neveah really liked her already. The cooling sensation grew on her neck until most of the pain left. Fingers drifted upward and came back with no more fresh blood. Wincing, she slowly sat up.

"Take it slowly," the healer kept a supporting grip around her back.

"He's my bodyguard," Neveah found her voice finally and tipped her chin to the massive bear with dripping, bloody claws.