Open Chronicles Queens, Politics & Pirates

[Esmeralda]

Nestled West of the Gulf of Ryt sat Route, a Kingdom growing fast under its new rule.
But with a new monarch comes new problems. Not even a year after her coronation, the Routen Council sits on the now queen, Esmeralda Sophia Le Roux I ' throat as to her next political moves and the ways forward. This pressure has also been fired with a scandalous engagement between Esmeralda and a lord who hails from further west in the realm, the reason for their failed courtship still unclear but rumors are certain to hurt an up-and-coming monarchs image, especially when they are the first women to be crowned.

Whilst Esmeralda has always been more then capable this was not enough to keep many allies formed by the late king and those before. With her power hungry uncles on one side and an impatient council on another the young queen must work quickly, whilst a marriage seems like a long shot at this point; her best bet is forming allies and powerful ones at that but most importantly, allies whose loyalty will not falter at whispers of war, usurperment or scandal.

When it came to politics what Route was in need of now besides marriage prospects was trade routes, Esme wished to expand routen sources and the quality of life for her people. Another aspect was war allies, whilst being a peaceful kingdom with a powerful army and navy of its own Esme had a growing urge to become a known safe haven for all creatures from human to animaux - such aspirations could cause a stir especially when Esmerelda would begin implementing relief missions to help those in need, such as dying out species or war torn villages.

The winter frost had began to melt and the week following would be the kingdoms annual Lilly Of Lights Festival, the timing was perfect. Hence, a royal ball would be taking place in two days.
The young queen had decided to organize the event in hopes it would draw in future companions, friends and allies. Fortunelty, she was not niave enough to put it past her enemies, known and unknown, to use such an occasion to their advantage, therefor Esme made sure to put some of her own pawns into place...just incase.

 

[Ulva Tal’deneshaar]

It had been almost a month since Ulva had arrived in Route alongside Esme, the Queen. There had been many life changing decisions that had been made in this past month leaving her head still reeling from it all. Not all of these decisions had been hers, of course but the Queen’s as well. Her home was no longer the Tal’deneshaar estate but here at the Castle as the Queen's lady in waiting. Even with how much time she’d already spent here in Route, she was still getting used to her surroundings outside the castle walls, let alone where everything was within the castle itself.

With the festival and the ball coming up the halls were constantly congested, she wasn’t sure she’d ever seen so many people in such a hurry to make this an unforgettable event. Though for all she knew, this is what it was like every year. Ulva made her way through the halls with the tray of freshly brewed tea, a dish of honey and milk and a couple of cups, weaving in and out of everyone's way. With a quick knock to the door before she entered. “I’d love to know more about this festival, sounds like it’ll be a blast” She said to Esme as she sat the tray down on the table. “Also, the seamstress needs to get you in for another fitting. She believes your dress for the ball is just about done but needs some adjustments.” She said before handing Esme her cup, prepared just the way she likes it.

“Are you ready for this?” Giving Emse a worried look. If she was nervous about this then Esme had to be, right? Even if she didn’t show it. It was a good thing that she’d been taught how to use weapons properly. Everything from a bow, a knife, a sword, you name it. Not only was she her lady in waiting but she could also do some physical damage if there was any attempt to harm her in any way. She was also keen on some of the politics, not that it was her place to give her opinion on such but if Esme wished for it, she’d gladly give it.

Ulva wasn’t sure if she’d be attending the ball or if she was to be somewhere in the background waiting for anything Esme may need during that time. Thus, Ulva hadn’t bothered to find something to wear to the ball as she assumed she wouldn’t need to. She figured Esme would mention something regarding her attending if she was supposed to and then she would simply find something suitable to wear. Her attention had been placed on making sure that Esme had everything she needed for the ball itself, from the gown all the way down to helping make sure the guards would be placed where Esme wished them to be during the event. Precaution, of course.

---

Esmeralda Sophia Le Roux

 

[Nere Ashorn]

The denizens of Route were celebrating the melted frost, but for the bayou native, it was still too cold out. Nere was shivering in the thin blue dress that she had donned for the day, goosebumps visible through the tattooed runework on her arms. As a traveler and trader, she knew the importance of adopting the fashions of the locals, but she was regretting not packing a coat.

On her way to a tailor's shop, she was working on remedying the situation. The street Nere walked now was richly decorated for the festival, fresh flowers and colorful banners hanging from shop windows and doorways. It was a well-off part of town, within view of the queen's castle. Merchants and visiting nobles would be just waking up in within those estates, enjoying the ruling family's hospitality as they made their preparations for the upcoming ball. Nere was not nearly important enough to be counted among their numbers. She only had, what, two or three trade ships to her family's name? The bayou wasn't a popular destination either, their exported goods often turned down for fear of disreputable origins.

There was nothing disreputable about Nere, however, and her honesty was only overshadowed by her doggedness. So of course she was still going to show up to the castle ball, even if she hadn't exactly been invited. And she was going to do it in style!

A bell jingled lightly as the door to the tailor's shop swung open. In walked Nere, and her merchant's heart sang as she was greeted with so many fabrics and cuts. Bolts of cloths in bright springtime colors lined the shelved walls, and delightfully impractical dresses stood on display draped across mannequins. She gravitated towards a lush velvet thing, calloused fingers running down the soft length of a sleeve. Now, this looked warm.

Esmeralda Sophia Le Roux Ulva Tal’deneshaar

 

[Azlat Ushus]

Azlat's trip to Thagretis had gone well. She'd missed her children dearly, and seeing them again after so long was by far the highlight of the trip. That her youngest son could join her on her return to Route was even better.

The official reason for the trip however, was to report on her findings in the north.The high priests were receptive to the notion of an alliance to a kingdom in the north, yet cautious. The first to extend diplomacy to them had done so as a ruse to conceal violent intentions, and reservations remained about those beyond their walls. Azlat's account of the kingdom and its queen was found assuring, but before a true alliance could be forged, friendship must be established.

Route's acceptance of their faith had been greatly beneficial to starting off relations between the kingdom and the city state. None had expected any to welcome their religion, and Azlat had been questioned whether the Queen's offer was genuine. Some of the council held doubt, and others held hope that it was true. Support was not yet given to her, but Azlat had been granted permission to share their holy teachings and preach of the Holy Elder Dragon to those who had forgotten Him.

All could come to agreement that none should be denied His wisdom, and Azlat agreed to be the one to share it. Support would come if her missionary work proved fruitful, for no church of the Draconic Order could be denied it. While not a formal alliance, its establishment was a fast track to forming a defensive pact – Azlat did depart with the agreement that Thagretis would act to protect Route against any persecution or hostilities that might result. The northerners were considered to be an unpredictable lot, and any religious foothold deserved protection.

Debate among the council continued, but the diplomatic progress was great for an encounter made merely months ago. Azlat was elated that her work in exploring the north had proved so fruitful. She'd returned with their blessing to act as priestess of and diplomat to Queen Esme's kingdom.
The ball would require her to take up the latter of the two roles, and so she was absent the ceremonial face paint she often wore. She still had her dagger, safely concealed but still very much accessible. Instead of her robes, she donned a loose fitting green dress with a billowing skirt that nearly reached the floor, along with earrings and a necklace of emerald, with the precious stones fitted into gold. She could not display such opulence openly when travelling, nor when acting as a priestess. The ball provided her with opportunity to do so, and Azlat revelled in it.

People were gathering, and Azlat awaited the Queen's arrival with anticipation. She'd been looking forward to the ball for some time. Not only was her attendance diplomatic duty, the evening should be quite enjoyable. The coronation certainly had been.

 

[NPC's]

bell jingled lightly as the door to the tailor's shop swung open. In walked Nere, and her merchant's heart sang as she was greeted with so many fabrics and cuts.

The young women had unknowingly stumbled into none other then Victor Ivorty, the best dress maker in town - unless you asked his brother Demante who considered himself the owner of that title.

"Hello dear," A hearty voice greeted her from behind the counter. Victor was quite a burley fellow with flaming read hair and a matching beard. He did not sport the attire most routen men would be spotted in on an every day occasion but instead opted for more attention drawing outfits, majority of the time this being silk pants in bright colours with a matching vest to pull over his tunic. "Looking for something for the ball or festival?"
Victor would be quick to help Nere, always excited when it came to someone willing to show off his designs.

 

[Esmeralda]

She believes your dress for the ball is just about done but needs

Ulva would find the young Queen staring out a window overlooking the palace gardens when she entered and thanked her for the beverage.

Esmerelda was keen to see the final product which would be her dress for the evening. Whilst it would be formal enough to be worn for such an occasion it would still represnt her kingdom and their ways.
Unlike most thriving human, ruled places in the relm, her people stayed away from metal armour and chain mail - instead they protected themselves with thickly woven leather. This was represented through a delicate, mock corset detail on her dress and leather straps on her shoulders. The material of the gown itself needed to be thin, as well as loose enough so that if worst were come to pass, Esmerelda would be allowed the mobility to fight.
"Very well, we shall go to her within the hour. I wish not for her to come within the castle, theres to much going on."

Esme moved to pour another cup of tea and offer it to Ulva, "you will have to accompy me as there is something I had made for you aswell. We might just need to have it taken in a spot or two." Esme offered her lady in waiting a soft smile, "You did not think you were to sit in your chambers the whole evening. I shall not only need my lady, but my friend if I am to endure the night...for I am a bit nervous."

Esmereldas smile faultered slightly before she regained her composer. She cleared her throat, "besides the naturally expected disruptions there shall be whispers of myself and Lord Rangvaldr's reason for ending the engagement. When you see such a topic of conversation arising you will be expected to help nip it in the bud."

A knock sounded from the door,
"Enter."
One of the Queens Guard entered, it was Wesley, on of her most trusted men.
" They have arrived your Highness." He shot her a knowing look. Esmerelda looked between Wesley and Ulva, her entire deminor now changed to one of urgency. "Thank you Wesley," she quickly grabbed her furs and pulled it over dress.
"Ulva," Esme quickly did her clasp and headed for the door, "Ill meet you at the seamstess, tell her I say to do the special fitting in the mean time."

With that she swiftly left.
The women of the Ferox Feminarum had arrived and this meeting needed to be swift.

 

[Ulva Tal’deneshaar]

“I assumed you would say as much” Ulva winked at her and took the cup of tea . “I informed her to have the dress ready for the final fitting and we’d be by shortly.” The rim of the cup met with her lips for a quick sip of the warm earthy, sweet concoction. “Thank you” Said as she lifted the cup “For the tea.”

You will have to accompany me there is something I had something made for you as well.

“Esme! I could have just as easily worn something of my own, there was no need to have something made” She laughed. “But I thank you nonetheless. I didn’t think I’d be joining you, nor sitting in my chambers. I know you have guards set up in specific places for the ball but I figured I’d keep myself at the ready, just in case.” Esme knew what she was talking about, as they’d discussed this very thing before. She knew that Ulva had other skills that could be put to use if she needed them.

“I’ll be there with you every step, you start feeling uncomfortable, anything, you tell me and I’ll fix it. As for murmurs of you and my brother, they’ll be hushed just as soon as words start to leave their lips. So don’t worry about that, focus on what’s important.” Ulva took the few steps that were between them and wrapped her arms around Esme in a hug. “It’ll be okay, you’ve got this..”

The knock at the door startled her. One of these days she’ll get used to just how often that happens. Ulva moved over to where she’d say the tray down, placing her cup atop it as Wesley entered. A slight bow given to Weasley. It didn’t take much to notice how quickly the look on Esmes face changed but why? What was more odd was how quickly Esme dismissed her. She looked to Esme, confused, but listened to her Queen without question. “As you wish” She gave a curtsy and took her leave.

---

The bell to the tailors rang as Ulva stepped inside, finally free from the bustling streets. “Good day Victor, is your wife in the back?” She pointed towards the closed curtain off to the side of the shop. His wife was the one that had been working on Esme’s dress and she'd assume her own now too. She then took note of the other woman inside the shop and bowed to her lightly. “I apologize, I did not see that you were with someone, I'm sorry for the interruption. I can see myself back if she is ready? I was told that I had a fitting as well and the Queen will be by shortly for hers”

 

[Arnor Skuldsson]

A festival was as much of a business opportunity as it was a chance to enjoy himself. The Nordenfiir were not known in these parts of the world, much less Bounty Hunters, Mercenaries and Monster-Slayers (in fact, as far as he was aware, Arnor was the only one...). A new customer base, a chance to eat and be merry- and push aside such unpleasantness from the homefront was something he wouldn't mind.

A maroon tunic, with a dark green-and-gold sash tried around his waist and beige trousers, with high fine leather boots were the highlights of his attire. His hair was neatly combed, and his beard recently trimmed. The scar on his face- well there wasn't much he could do about that, but everything else marked him as a well-to-do man. Of course, Arnor was never unprepared. Besides the ability to turn into a huge fucking bear, a dagger across the top of his forearm, under the long sleeves of his tunic was his backup plan, should the food become too good or he was having too much of a good time.

He was never truly in a relaxed state. His eyes were always wandering, always searching for danger. He took his place near another wanderer, or at least, a diplomat. Someone out of place like him. His hands folded behind his back, he turned and looked down at her, smiling.

"Far from home, hm?" He said, with a wry grin. He was in the same boat- perhaps farther than her. But he was curious more of where she came from- she had the same look that he saw when he was under the thumb of the Empire briefly after Belgrath. Not that the Empire held grudges. Too large to care.

"Arnor, son of Skuld. A pleasure. May I ask where you're from?"

His voice was genuine- Arnor rarely used "royal" language. He spoke the same way to Kings, Queens and Princes as he did to smiths and smelters. Not that Arnor placed much stock in titles and lineages. He was rather uncaring of who was in power, they paid all the same.

 

[Nere Ashorn]

Some invisible cue must have tipped the tailor off that Nere would be willing to go along with anything, because after a round of amicable introductions, he got right to work, and started sizing her up. Victor looked at her with pursed lips, the thoughts racing through his head practically visible. "You don't want that dress," he said quite abruptly, barely glancing at the long-sleeved thing she had been eyeing before.

"I don't...?"

"No, no, velvet hides everything and you've got too nice of a figure for that. Here, we need something that will show off your arms--" He pulled out a sleek, sleeveless dress, with silver thread embroidered so richly on the collar and shoulders that it looked like metal plate from a distance. "Now, are there any..." Victor looked her up and down, "...weapons we need to work around?"

Nere began to shake her head no, when the bell to the door rang once more.

"Ah, good morning Miss Ulva!" The tailor broke his attention away from Nere for a moment to greet a woman who'd come through the door. This woman had a silky mane of red as well. She wondered if that was a common trait among Routens. The redheaded woman, Ulva apparently, spoke to the tailor with the familiarity of prior arrangements.

“Good day Victor, is your wife in the back?”

Wait, wife? Nere almost said out loud, the surprise on her face clear. She had assumed that the tailor was... ah well, it didn't matter either way.

Victor looked apologetically to Nere, who straightened her face out and smiled understandingly back. "Sorry dear, do you mind...?"

"Not at all, I've got plenty of time," she said with a wave of her hand. Nere glossed completely over the fact that the other woman had mentioned being in the same party as the Queen of Route. She seemed blissfully unaware that it had been said at all.

'Thank you,' Victor mouthed at Nere before looking back to the newcomer. "Don't worry yourself with such details. Let me go check in the back to make sure Rena is ready to receive yourself and the Queen. It will just be a moment." The tailor scurried out through a curtained doorway with quickened grace in the way that shopkeepers often did, no doubt making some last-minute preparations behind the scenes.

Nere had wandered off a few feet away, humming pleasantly to herself as she looked at a brilliant array of patterned cloth, the intricately woven details depicting all kinds of flora and fauna that no doubt had symbolic importance to the denizens of Route. After a minute or two of that, Nere decided to help the shopkeep out. A friendly conversation might buy him the time he needed to sort out whatever needed sorting back there. She put away the fabric she'd been browsing and looked towards Ulva.

"Are you going to the ball, as well?" Nere asked the other woman with a sheepish smile. "I admit I'm a bit overwhelmed, myself. We don't have festivals like this on the island I'm from."


Esmeralda Sophia Le Roux Ulva Tal’deneshaar Azlat Ushus Arnor Skuldsson

 

[Azlat Ushus]

Raised with a noble's upbringing and education, none of it had given her any awareness of what lay beyond her home continent of Malakath. While well versed in Thagretan etiquette, the ways of the northerners were an ongoing discovery. Most of what she'd learned had been made by simple observation through a lens crafted of known formalities. Leaders required respect and ceremony required reverence, that she knew. How the northerners displayed it had been foreign to her, but careful imitation of the gestures made by others fared well.

She’d really attended the coronation as an opportunity for espionage. A bit of social tact and the confidence imbibed from a few goblets of wine had her establish diplomatic relations between their lands instead. Outside kingdoms were hardly trusted. Given the attack upon their city, faith in northern civility was lacking, to say the least. The kingdom’s tolerance and hospitality had earned her trust, and Azlat found it was well placed.

“Oh, quit͘e fa̵r.” She replied with a smile and her head tilted up to address him. She certainly did stand out among the others, her attire, jewellery, and complexion were all starkly different to that to any of the region. She further carried the draconic lineage – dull yellow irises were crossed by vertical lines, rather than a round pupil in the centre of them. And her voice, though clear, carried a strange accent to it that sounded unlike any other.

“Azlat, of house Ushus and from Tha͠gretis. A city that lies an oc̨͝ean away from the s͢outhern shore.” Azlat eyed the man’s garb and build. She hadn’t a clue where this man was from. Geography was far from her strong suit, Thagretis had been the only city she’d known of for the first four decades of her life. Arnor didn’t quite speak like the others and didn’t seem to be from the nobility, but there was surely a reason he was here. Even if there wasn’t, it hardly mattered. She’d not seen anyone like him, and wouldn’t dismiss the opportunity to learn, herself.

“You̵’ll have to fo͝rgive me, I’ve not se͡en much of Arethil. Where do you hail from?” Azlat asked.

Arnor Skuldsson

 

[Arnor Skuldsson]

A city that lies an oc̨͝ean away from the s͢outhern shore.

Accented words upon an accented face. Interesting.

Arnor was himself unique, solely off his build alone. Ice-blue eyes danced over her figure, taking in every curve and shape, and then simultaneously searching for any concealed weapons.

Arnor smirked when she asked where he was from, commenting that she had not seen much of Arethil. "I've not seen entirely much of it myself- I'm from the Tundra, you see... far north of you. I am Arnor, son of Skuld. Pleasure to meet you." He politely took her hand, kissing the back of it, as was expected of those of lesser class. He wasn't going to go too much into Nordenfiir- the fact that at any given moment, the person you were talking to could turn into a giant bear was... usually off-putting.

It's also why Nordenfiir weren't usually invited to parties.

"I'm surprised to find you this far from home, then."

Arnor seemed to know more about the world than he let on, taking on the appearance of a brute but had the know-how of a well-traveled man.

Azlat Ushus

 

[Esmeralda]

The meeting Esmerleda had abandoned Ulvas company for had been unexpected, most meetings with this specific organization were, the Ferox Feminarum were discreet in such a manner. There had only been two separate occasions that the young queen had had every member of the group in the same place, her coronation being the most recent.
But with not only the kingdom, the entire castle being so busy and at much higher capacity then normal, this was the perfect occasion.
For a good thirty minutes Esmerelda would slip through servant entrances and hidden passages until she ended up in front of one of the bedroom chambers that had not been used in years. At the end of the corridor Wesley would pose as a lookout and offered her a short nod when the coast was clear for her to enter and the minute the chamber door shut behind her five figures would appear from the shadows.
Esme made her way to a seat infront of an unlit fireplace, "I assume you are all aware what is expected of you this evening?" Her voice was low and deathly serious.
"Yes," replied Elise who was now leaning against a draped window, her normal attire discarded for that of a servants uniform. "Myself and a trusted few have had our eyes on the harbor for weeks, Killian docked at dawn."
An exasperated sign left Esmes lips, she knew her cousin was most likely to show up, but she always harbored the hope of his absence.

"Shanne? Katrina? Anyone who might cause an uproar?"
She refereed now to the pair of women on her team who were aimed at diplomats and politicians.
"Nothing besides drunken nobles Your Highness, " Replied the gorgeous elf which was Shanne Vanweyek. She looked to Katrine for re-assurance who simply nodded her head.

Serena moved to Esmerleda eye sight, she often worked in the shadier parts of the kingdom with more underground threats. "I apologize my queen, but I am still out of commission," Serena refereed now to her left arm which was resting in a sling close to her chest.

"I understand, but I want you to spend the a few nights in one of the mountain cabins, I'll have Captain Wesley meet you somewhere. It will give you a chance to rest without disturbance."
Esme stood now from her chair and looked past the four women standing closest, "Laume?"
The druid stepped forward, she had covered herself from head to toe in a thick fur, underneath it was a hooded cloak and wrapped around her head a black, satin scarf.
Laume removed her garment from her face, her emerald coloured skin revealed. "I have spoken with Moraane & Moraai, they in turn found out from Morgatta - there has been no strange character looking up maps or in search of sensitive information at the scholar center."

Esme nodded in response and moved again to the chamber doors, "Very well ladies, you are aware of your positions and you know where to collect your coin. "


As usual and necessary, the meeting ended as quickly as it had began and with the young queens statement, each of the women pulled on the missing parts of their disguise and began leaving the way they came, not a one besides the queen using the door.

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The bell to Victors shop rang once again as Esme stepped inside, her personal warriors remaining on the other side of the door.
"Good-day." A friendly smile danced on her face. Removing her coat and placing it on a chair nearby she would head to the back for her own fitting.

 

[Ulva Tal’deneshaar]

“Morning!” Ulva chimed back to Victor. She was typically not one to interrupt in one's business, however since she decided to open her mouth prior to making sure he wasn’t with a customer, that’s exactly what she had done. She gave them both an apologetic look before Victor started going off about checking the back. “I have no problem doing so myself Victor, you’re with.. “ Ulva stopped as she realized her words went unnoticed as Victor waved her off and moseyed off into the back himself.

There was plenty to look at within the shop, an array of fabrics, threads, even dresses already made to sell. Some of which were made in ways she’d never even laid eyes on before, granted, this was her first time away from Vel Enir. More correctly, away from her family's estate. So it didn’t come as a surprise at how much she’d yet to see, books and various writings could only suppress her desire to travel so much before she found a way to do just that.

Ulva looked away from the dresses she’d been idly looking at when she heard the woman speak. “It seems I am, I'm a bit nervous about it” She answered with a slight laugh while she turned to look at her. “Overwhelmed is an understatement, I’ve never seen crowds like this for any festival. Though, to be honest, I’ve not been to many as it is.”

Ulva made her way towards the woman and held out her hand in proper greeting. “My name is Ulva. I am the Queen’s lady-in-waiting. It is a pleasure to meet you, where are you from? What Island I mean?”

---

The two stood there talking for some time before the bell rang again, Ulva turned to see Esme enter and discard her coat. “Your Majesty” Said as she gave a curtsy before she disappeared into the back. Ulva looked to Nere with another apologetic look “If you’ll excuse me. If I don't see you again before then, I hope to see you at the ball, Nere. I would love to speak to you more about your island. Until then, be safe out there” Ulva took her leave and quickly followed Esme to the back where, hopefully, both dresses were ready to be fitted.

---

Esmeralda Sophia Le Roux Nere Ashorn

 

[Azlat Ushus]

"I've not seen entirely much of it myself- I'm from the Tundra, you see... far north of you. I am Arnor, son of Skuld. Pleasure to meet you." Arnor replied. She'd gotten a good glance at him on being introduced, but his eyes gazed longer and a fair bit lower than hers had. Such seemed to happen far more often upon roaming foreign lands. Or maybe he'd spotted the dagger. Either way, the least she could do was call attention to it.

“Yes, I'm hųman. The rest of me does lo͞ok much the same.” Azlat quipped. One notable difference between her home and theirs was that Malakath generally grew warmer the further north one roamed. Epressa did the opposite, and to a much greater degree. Arnor mentioned that he hailed from far north of her, and as far as Azlat was concerned Route was the far north. She was a touch curious whether the Tundra was even colder still. The fact that it was a tundra ought to have inferred that it did, but in her geographic ingorance, she had no idea what one even was.

"I'm surprised to find you this far from home, then." Arnor added, taking her hand in his to kiss the back of it in a gesture of greeting she'd not deny. She'd only recently learned of the ettiquette. It had been a surprise when she did, but she was familiar with the formality by now.

“As am I. Th̵ese lands were all but in̷accessible until a ye͠ar or so ago, when the portal sto͜ne activated.” She responded with a smile. The Thagretans had known there were continents to the north, but traversal between Malakath and the outside words was unheard of, until the attack upon Thagretis. Their first encounter had been one of deceptive violence, and implied to all the barbarism of those miscreants beyond their walls. A year beyond that, the portal stone mysteriously activated after yet another northern incursion into Makalath.

They would not sit idle while the northerners conspired. These lands were a threat to her way of life, and a threat had to met head on. Thagretis needed alliances and intelligence, and Azlat was determined to forge both where she could.

Thagretis ought to see their enemies slaughtered next they dared present themselves.

Arnor Skuldsson

 

[Nere Ashorn]

The woman in front of her was none other than the Queen's own lady in waiting, and Nere was beginning to understand why the dressmaker had been so flustered! The noblelady introduced herself as Ulva, and offered her hand.

Nere froze, searching her lexicon of greetings for what the proper Routen thing to do was. So far she had done a lot of curtsying and bowing but the offering of a hand indicated a level of familiarity or perhaps trust that Nere did not feel like she had particularly earned. Should she do the Garramarisman thing and give her a firm handshake,? No, that was too crass for a lady in waiting.

Delicately, Nere clasped the other woman's hand like she had see some gentlemen do to ladies of higher status, and bowed her head low, almost touching her forehead to the back of her hand. "The pleasure is all mine, Miss Ulva." She let go and raised her head. "My name is Nere Ashorn, and I hail from the Bayou Garramarisma, and everyone down there thinks its impossible to get this far North by trade ship, so I thought I would go ahead and prove them wrong."

Nere thought back on what the other woman had said before, about being overwhelmed. "Here I am worrying, when all I've got to do is show up to the ball. It must be a lot of work getting everything ready for yourself and the queen. I do hope you get to enjoy yourself when the day comes." There was nothing but earnestness in Nere's voice as she spoke, and if she ought to have said anything different to a woman so many stations above herself, it didn't occur to her.

At least when the bell rang again and the Queen herself walked in, Nere remembered to lower her eyes in a bow. She would have stayed like that as the Queen passed by if Ulva had not addressed her again. She broke her bow to look back up, but couldn't think of anything to say in response fast enough. The woman was already moving to leave, and she found herself alone amongst the fabrics.

From the back of the shop, she heard Victor's voice greeting the two women. The man seemed to have his hands full. Maybe I'll come back in the afternoon, Nere thought to herself with a soft smile.

 

[Arnor Skuldsson]

Truth be told, it was both. The dagger- and the woman.

Arnor folded his hands neatly behind his back, listening to her sing-song accent speak, flowing over the common tongue. He smiled at her comment. "That makes one of us." If she was unaware of the tundra, perhaps she was also unaware of the Nordenfiir, or their... ways. Ways and habits. Habits, of course, being that they could occasionally turn into giant bears on a whim.

"I haven't yet been to your home- I hope to visit one day." He grew somber for a moment, realizing that it was a tender topic for her to speak of home so soon after the attack. "Peacefully, of course. Perhaps I could find work there, hm?" Arnor wasn't exactly famous, but he was beginning to be more well-known as a Monster Slayer, a Contractor of Heads. Rarely did he take on bounties, people didn't interest him as much as monsters did. Monsters, beasts, and otherworldly creatures were simple. No morality about them, typically. Just something evil, violent, that needed to be stopped.

And people paid him to stop them. And he took their money, and spent it on women and the finer things in life.

Like floral soaps, such as the one he washed himself with not even hours before.

A very lovely rose and lavender soap, at that.

Azlat Ushus

 

[Azlat Ushus]

Arnor's eyes did seem to pause briefly roaming over her left side where she had her dagger sheathed and hidden above her hip. When he clasped his hands behind his back, she did the same with her hands clasped to her front with bright gold ring worn on her index finger. It was partly to adopt a formal posture, but largely to discreetly check just how prominent the dagger and beneath her dress really was. The inside of her elbow brushed against the handle, which did seem a bit more prominent than she'd initially determined. Azlat was not experienced in concealing weapons, and the dagger she chose was a touch too large to be properly concealed. It was a fine size for stabbing, which was the primary quality for which it had been chosen. Openly displaying weapons would interfere with those duties. She could eject a corrosive fire from her throat, but once she had she'd be unarmed. Remaining so among strangers from lands she still feared hostile didn’t sit well with her.

"That makes one of us." Arnor replied, which elicited some notable shock. He looked much like any from the northern lands, and resembled the other Routans far more than Azlat did, As she glanced between him and the others in attendance, she could not discern any way to differentiate the two. He was taller and his shoulders broader than most of the others. He also smelled oddly of lavender.

But she did not know he could turn into a bear. Neither did she know what a bear even was. Malakath certainly didn’t have any. “One of us? You͟’re not human th͝en?” She responded, her expression surprised and her tone intrigued. This was a new discovery. Azlat could only wonder if all the others who appeared human were truly so.

"I haven't yet been to your home- I hope to visit one day." He mentioned, and the comment stilled her posture. The gesture was friendly, she assured herself, though her fear of outsiders remained. Her discomfort did not seem unnoticed. "Peacefully, of course. Perhaps I could find work there, hm?" Arnor added, with an appearance of concern before delivering words implying the same. Azlat wondered what work that might be – given his sheer size and build he could be a blacksmith, though the scar that ran across his face didn't seem like the result of metalworking.

“Well, wh͝at work would tha̢t be?” Azlat asked, now looking Arnor over. His maroon tunic draped a thick frame of muscle, surely covering further battle scars beneath it. It was quite impressive, to say the very least. “A war͟rior, I imagine?” Azlat added, partly to guess, and partly to convey that she'd been sizing him up to make her guess.

Which she had been. Mostly.

Arnor Skuldsson

 

[Arnor Skuldsson]

Arnor could only smirk to her question. He cast his gaze downward, away from the goings-on of the party. "Nordenfiir, of the Eretejva Tundra. Possessors of the Svalen." He said it so matter-of-factly, so proudly, as if that was all there was to say. The word Svalen in some places of Arethil were unknown, but most knew of the Nordenfiir's magic, their gifts from their gods.

"I hunt Monsters and foul creatures. Taken me all over the land. From demons, undead Lords and Vampires... I've slain many a monster." He spoke plainly and without deceit in his words. He cut down many a creature and monster. And man, orc, elf. If the money was good and the thing was foul, the Axe of Knottington was never too far away.

"A warrior isn't too far off, to be fair."

Save for that Arnor worked for himself, and the people he hired. He cared not for flag, crown or land. Only the gold within it or under it.

Azlat Ushus

 

[Azlat Ushus]

"Nordenfiir, of the Eretejva Tundra. Possessors of the Svalen."

She understood three of those words: ‘of,’ ‘the’, and ‘Posessors.’ Everything else was foreign to her, still so estranged to lands so far from home. 'Nordenfir' was the first unfamiliar word, and clearly that's what Arnor was. Eretejva seemed the proper name to the Tundra, which likely meant 'kingdom' or 'land.' 'Svalen,' however, was a word she could not infer the meaning of. As far as she could deduce, it was some great gift that either bestowed power, or conveyed bravery to be a possession so dear. Perhaps both.

"I hunt Monsters and foul creatures. Taken me all over the land. From demons, undead Lords and Vampires... I've slain many a monster." He continued, showing her assumptions to be somewhat wrong. Though not too far off, by his affirmation.

“A sla͞yer of monste͠rs? Well, we may have w͢ork.” Azlat replied. He wasn't a military or mercenary warrior, but a slayer of monsters. Thagretis had little need to employ the former, given the present lack of conflict. But Malakath held many monsters that were far more massive than any she'd seen in Epressa. Though the Thagretans long lived among them capably, such gargantuan beasts still remained a challenge on occasions of their aggression.

“The be͞asts of Malakath are far la͡rger th̕an those of Epres͝sa or Liadain. When they beco͟me aggre͜ssive, they are a me͜nace.” She'd not normally trust a northerner to combat them, but Arnor was an experienced specialist. Slaying monsters was his very profession. If anything, Azlat mused that they ought to hire him merely to see his work. A strange man from a strange land could carry new knowledge and new methods to deal with aggressive wildlife and vile monstrosities.

It'd be nice, to see him in action. Surely, he'd want to be paid well, which was hardly an issue. Thagretis certainly had the gold to afford it, and the gold she wore as jewellery clearly implied that.

Arnor Skuldsson

 

[Arnor Skuldsson]

He noted her lack of confusion, giving her a smirk, raising both of his eyebrows in a mischievous manner. "Never met a Nordenfiir, or read about us, hm? I'll save the surprise for later." He said with a nudge of his elbow lightly into her. He was a jolly fellow when he wanted to be, and most of the time, a sour and grumpy, short-tempered man. But he had his moments.

"Lucky for you that I'm larger than most. Beasts don't look as big when they're close to me." He said with a chuckle, laughing at his own joke. His eyes wandered back down to her, her gold jewelry, her, not thinking of missing a payment. Fortunately, Arnor had selected his clients and jobs carefully, and had not been missed a payment yet.

Yet.

He let his stare be known, taking in every inch of her- not counting the dagger, before speaking again. He was not a man of subtle hints or underhanded compliments, and all the other ways men tried to impress women. His people were direct and abrasive, and it served him well to be honest. And honesty dictated that his icy blue eyes were fixated on her form and face for a good while.

"For a royal outing, you'd think the royalty would be more... out and about."

Azlat Ushus

 

[Azlat Ushus]

"Never met a Nordenfiir, or read about us, hm? I'll save the surprise for later." Arnor asked, and his question was answered with a shake of her head. The northern continents were so strange, and full of countries and settlements. Malakath on the other hand was largely devoid of them, save for barbarians south of their heavily fortified city. There was much to discover up here, numerous cities, kingdoms and climates containing all sorts of species and societies. It could be a touch overwhelming, at times.

"Lucky for you that I'm larger than most. Beasts don't look as big when they're close to me." Well, Arnor wasn’t wrong, he was a large man by human standards. But the beasts of Malakath were orders of magnitude bigger than anything she’d seen in the north. The northern continents had their own threats too, but Azlat had yet to encounter anything much larger than a horse.

“Well, I don’t d́oubt that.” She replied, her lips curled into a sly grin. “There are win͢ged beasts as tall as a ho͢use, and those crea͜tures we consider di̶minutive.” Azlat added. Arnor certainly seemed capable, and she’d not want to discourage him, but warning was fair to give. She caught his gaze wandering yet again, though not to the dagger she had hidden away. He wasn’t exactly subtle, but he did have the tact to not outright gawk. She’d not make any comment on it, and merely awaited his response with an affable smile.

"For a royal outing, you'd think the royalty would be more... out and about." Arnor spoke. Royalty had been little more than a fable in Thagretan literature, before the discovery of the north. Their city was run by religious council, led by the Archprophet. Royalty seemed archaic, but the style of rule was common to the north.

“Queen Esme shou̶ld be here shortly. Likely, the̢re’s a lot of fuss to be ha͜ndled before she arrives.” Azlat replied. She had an inkling of what fuss that might be, Killian Grey had been an issue during the coronation. As the Queen’s cousin, they were formally obligated to give hopsitality to him, despite his repulsive abrasiveness.

Azlat would rather give Killian her dagger, point-first. Regrettably, that was hardly an option. The resulting war would not be worth the act, and so he remained safe and irritating in Route. That she couldn’t clearly voice her opinions was certainly the downside of decorum.

Arnor Skuldsson

 

[Esmeralda]

Spoiler: OOC NOTE

will be replying in the next 2 days x sorry about the wait, my health is going backwards at the moment

Arnor Skuldsson @Azlat Ushus @Nere Ashorn @

Ulva Tal’deneshaar​

 

[Esmeralda]

Victor finished handing off the queen and her lady to his wife and headed to the front of the store again to help the women once more. Two other patrons had entered during his disapperance but they were regurlars and knew their way around, his attention not needed there as yet.
"Sorry about that my dear," Victor offered Nere a heart smile. He patted his belly excitedly as he gestured to a rack full of hanging gowns, "Now how about something like this?" Swiftly he removed a hanger from its perch. On it was a rather... unique gown.
In his arms he proudly held a bright pink silk gown with a bedazzled bodest and what seemed to be feathers for sleaves. "Well?" He asked excitedly, obviously very proud of his creation. "What do you think my dear?"

____________________________________________

Once Esmerelda and Ulva were left in the back room with Mrs Ivorty she immediately offered them each some tea.
Esmerelda thanked her and took a seat on a rather rickety looking arm chair nearby.
"I think we should start with my ladys dress," the young royal offered the other two women a smile.
"A yes !" The middle aged seamstress said excitedly. "Come stand here darling," Victors wife took Ulva by the hand and lead her a few short steps onto a small, short, wooden pedestal. "Now her majesty," the seamstress looked to Esmerelda then back at Ulva. "Has proposed two options for your gown for tonight. Seeing as it is your first ball as her Majesties lady in waiting she thought it best that you are to be dressed in the royal colours."

Mrs Ivorty moved to a wall of shelved gowns and materials in a corner of the room, most likely looking for the mentioned dresses.

"While Mrs Ivorty grabs your gowns I am going to go try on my own." With that Esme dissapeared behind a curtain thay concealed another room.

"Here they are!" Mrs Ivorty pushed up her specificles and shuffled over to Ulva once more. Drapped over each arm was the dresses, one an Emerald green, like that of the royal colours and another an ocean blue, matching the Routen flag.

 

[Karl von Stehlen]

A knight's vows was a matter that came before any title, or at least that Karl von Stehlen had been taught growing up with a knightly order. That despite his own titles of nobility he was first and foremost a warrior bound to the responsibility of his realm. And Karl would have been more than happy to those vows, considering a battlefield was more of a familiar place then the dance floors of a festival.

But being born into a noble family meant that certain things were expected of him, and while those expectations might have been easily wavered back in their realm because of his status as a knight, the same could not be said for events outside of the realm.

At least this wasn't one of those jousting tourneys. Oh how Karl hated competing in those.

Making his way to where the other dignitaries were gathered, Karl pushed up his faceplate with the other and took stock of his surroundings. Even now Karl stood out with his clanking plate armor, his steel figure jutting out of the colorful crowd like a sore iron thumb. Still, Karl’s plate armor at the very least blended well thematically with the place, considering the setting back in Strojland didn't look all that different. Nor did most of the people attending, many didn’t look any different then some of the wealthier citizens of the confederacy. Though admittedly, some others did seem a tad more out of place than others.

Not that it prompted Karl to make a move, considering he wasn't the only member from his realm here. Had it been Karl's choice alone, the youngest son of Stahl would have never even set foot within the realm of Route. But having an older brother who also happened to be ruler of the realm sometimes put the knight in an awkward position, given the man had the power to make Karl's attendance mandatory under the guise of "protection".

Not that he ever needed the protection, considering...

 

[Zufar el Hassan]

“He really does have your scowl.” A small laugh drifted by Karl’s right side, as a lanky figure seemed to saunter by. “If it weren’t for the armor and his immense proportions, I’d say you two might be able to pass off as twins.”

As Karl glanced to his right, seeing the man’s purple Turban as he sauntered by. Along with the frock coat, most people would have guessed him to be of some maritime profession, though hardly as many might have expected this one to be a pirate prince. Zufar el Hassan, pirate captain of the Magnificent Liberator, pirate prince of the Velvet Fleet, and the bane of slavers all across the continent. But what was he doing here? And with a knight no less.

“Ah, a royal ball… and one of your eastern ones, nonetheless.” Zufar snorted as he took a few more steps forward before wheeling about to face the knight. The pirate prince had already taken in the current atmosphere, and seemed rather indifferent despite the excitement occurring all around him. “Never really found much appeal to these things, myself. Far too much standing around and moving around for one if high berths. Though I suppose you “men of iron” have little interest in such trivialities.”

It seems Karl wasn't the only one Zufar was referring too.

“Still, these festivities are rather…nostalgic.” Zufar smirks, fitting for a rogue, looking on with an expression that was half-thoughtful and half-mock-longing. “Reminds me of a little heist that me and your brother pulled off at Darton’s Keep, back when we were your age. (Heh) Stole the scepter right out from underneath the Lord’s nose, on his coronation day too.”

Zufar seemed rather proud of the fact, given the fact that his words seemed to be easily lost among the tide of commotion occurring all around the two men.

“Ah, but what was his name?”