Fable - Ask The Canal

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Walter Banick

Count of Ostia Anir
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OSTIA ANIR


"Stop the carriage."

Walter's bannerman banged on the driver's side wall of the carriage's interior. The driver slowed the horses and the carriage came to a slow stop, the rest of the mounted entourage stopping as well. Horses milled, tapping their hooves against the clean cobbles of one of Ostia Anir's main thoroughfares, and the House Banick bannermen and soldiers atop their steeds remained dutifully in their saddles, vigilant and stoic.

Walter pushed open the door of the carriage and stepped out into the bright afternoon. He glanced back down the avenue, spotting what he had seen from the carriage window: two young boys, one human, one elf. Arguing. Pushing one another. He started in their direction, waving off his bannermen who made to follow him.

The two boys didn't notice him until he was right beside them, crouching down to their level. When they finally did, both of them flinched, each standing with a rigid posture and nervous gaze, as if they were about to be punished.

"What's going on here?"

"N-Nothing, Count Banick," said the human boy.

"We were only playing, my Lord," mumbled the elven boy.

Walter eyed the elven boy. Such a rare thing, to see them in their formative years. "It did not look nor sound like you were merely playing."

The human boy swallowed. Then, in the way children do under the relentless gaze of an inquiring adult, he admitted to what had happened. "Ylleryl borrowed my ball and he gave it back to me and it was ruined."

Walter looked to the elven boy, Ylleryl, and asked him simply, "Is this true?"

The elven boy hesitated, then seemed to crumble, his eyes downcast, as he said, "Y-Yes, my Lord."

"What happened? How did the ball get ruined?"

"It was an accident. I-I didn't mean to! I'm sorry!"

Walter looked back to the human boy. "And you were angry at him because of this?"

"Yes, my Lord."

Walter reached out and touched the human boy's shoulder. "It is alright to be upset. But keep in mind what you have, boy. Ylleryl told you the truth, and he did this because he is a good friend, and good friends are to be cherished. Don't you think you ought to forgive him?"

Their argument and their fight was quelled with heartfelt apologies from both boys, and they made to go scampering off, their cheer renewed with their conflict resolved and with their fears of punishment assuaged. Before Ylleryl left, Walter asked him his family name, which was Avastarylline. He thought about it briefly whilst walking back to his carriage. As he sat down inside, he remembered where he'd heard it before. They were a family that had immigrated to Ostia Anir from Alys Seranine, an elven city to the south.

Topical. The strings of fate wove themselves in the most intricate patterns.

* * * * *


TheCanal.jpg

OSTIA ANIR, CANAL TENEMENTS


It was to be a massive project. Simply referred to as "The Canal," the goal of the project was to provide Ostia Anir with better access to the wide open Cortosi Coast. Walter was counting on this to make Ostia Anir more competitive with Vel Luin, the much larger port city to the north that was better positioned as the primary destination for trading ships coming in from the waters of the Coast. Ostia Anir's current advantage was its close proximity to the Falwood Portal Stone, which enabled individual adventurers and merchants, or small bands of them, to come from or go to the far flung corners of Arethil with ease.

However, construction of the Canal would see it cleave right through three elven settlements: two towns, and one city.

Elyr'Adith, situated on the coast just south of Ostia Anir, something of a resort and relaxation town.

Elyr'Morath, situated inland on the peninsula, which lay within dense forests and had many of its buildings built into the thick trees themselves.

And, as it so happened, Alys Seranine, the largest of the three, near the southernmost edge of the proposed Canal.

The residents of these settlements were to be evicted from their homes. Yes, it was true that all of them were outside of the county of Ostia Anir, and that Walter had no proper jurisdiction over them, but he and House Banick stood as the most powerful force in the region. He would be firm, but he would not be cruel: the evicted elves would be offered new lives and residences within the collection of "Canal Tenements" (construction of which was nearly complete), within Ostia Anir itself if they so wanted.

That being said, Walter did expect resistance the further south he went. Elyr'Adith he knew from personal experience would be friendly, agreeable. Elyr'Morath, more insular and with fewer human residents, was estimated by his Spymaster to be less so. And in Alys Seranine, where the primary spoken language was Elvish and the Fellowship--a group of fervent human-slaying elves--was known to operate, resistance was all but guaranteed.

So. In light of expected resistance, force might be necessitated. To that end, Walter would assemble a few companies from his personal army. And, as well, he'd sent a missive off to the Academy to request a loan of some Initiates for this task. The Proctors had need of training their Initiates on missions like these, and Walter had just such a mission to provide.

Presently, Walter sat alone in his tent near the construction site of the Canal Tenements in Ostia Anir, writing summons to his bannermen and finalizing plans for the eviction stage of the Canal project. A House Banick messenger poked his head into the tent.

"The Initiates sent by the Academy have arrived, my Lord."

Walter turned in his chair. "Good. I should like to meet with them."

The messenger hesitated slightly. "My Lord...you might not be pleased."
 
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Kristen Pirian

Pirian's Chosen
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"Off you go," said the wagon driver.

The wagon stopped beside the perimeter of a rather large construction area to the right, and Kristen Pirian hopped from the back and onto the cobblestone road. The midday sun was beginning its descent from high noon, and shadows were short. Seagulls called out overhead and to the west and the south, where, unseen, the sprawling harbor of Ostia Anir could be found, and the smell of the sea came with the wind. Hammering, sawing, shouts from the many laborers working on the construction of the Canal Tenements could be heard. Wooden scaffolding surrounded many of the Tenement buildings, all of them near completion, only their top floors remaining skeletal.

Kristen looked with barely concealed wonder as a family of elves, actual elves (look at their ears!) went walking by her and the other Initiates standing beside the wagon. My, they were tall too, yet apparently such was quite normal for them. Their faces! Angular and sharp. It was both fascinating and somewhat--she had to admit--scary to see elves. Yet here in Ostia Anir, there was a rather healthy population of them. Seemed for every three humans, there was an elf--a far cry from the noble districts of Vel Anir!

The Proctors had been a little vague on this mission. They'd said this was in support of House Banick (which made Kristen nervous), something about a canal, and that they would be going to three elven towns. What they were to be doing? Perhaps...they would be finding out shortly?

Kristen took in a breath. Said wistfully to her fellow Initiates, "It would be lovely if we could go for a swim."
 
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Alistair felt his feet hit the cobblestones and it took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the sun so he could get a good look at Ostia Anir. The smell of the sea hit his nose before his eyes even got a good look at the place. To put it simply, it was rather impressive. The location itself could make it a nice little getaway spot for nobles looking to escape the hustle of Vel Anir.

Alistair hesitated for a moment when he heard Kristen's comment, "...Yeah, sure would be nice." He offered a weak smile and decided to focus back on the fact that they were here for a job. His eyes looked to the same elven family that had just walked past them.

"You would think they would still hold more resentment for us, right?"
 

Raf

The Mimic
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Raf still lay in the back of the cart, his head lulling to the side as he let out a long snorting snore.

He either didn't know, or simply didn't want to get out of the Wagon. Coming on this mission had not been his idea, of course, and thus he'd long ago decided that only minimum effort was due. Over the course of their journey from the Academy that had mostly translated into sleeping.

The Proctors were never ones to allow anyone to sleep too long, even after the Revolution. Something about being 'lazy' and not putting the best foot forward. So Raf took whatever opportunity he could to find the comfort of dreams.

That was why he was still sleeping.

At least until the Wagon driver reached back and smacked him in the head with his crop.

"Oi! Get up!"​

"Hey!" Raf said as he jerked up and away from the abusive man, muttering a curse under his breath as he rubbed his head and slowly pushed his way out of the wagon. His head shook, and he landed on the cobbles besides Alistair.

He glanced at his fellow Initiate. "Can you believe that guy?"

Entirely oblivious of the sights around them.
 

Kalix

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Kalix absolutely hated nothing more than water. The wagon ride had been fine. Boring, but fine. It gave Kalix a chance to brood by himself because currently, the people on this mission with him completely sucked! But what was sucking more right now was the fact that when they got to their destination was that Kalix could smell the sea. The sea! He hated nothing more than water than a large body of salt water.

Hey, hey, hey!” Kalix growled as he swaggered over to the edge of the wagon and jumped off of it. Hands were set low at his hips as he proceeded to glower at the sugar, spice and everything nice trio. Obviously he was here because they all sucked and they needed an star like him to make sure the job got done right. Obviously the only one good at killing was him.

Stop being so fucking salty.” A grin. Who he said it to in particular, no one could say— probably not even Kalix if he were to ever be honest. But it was the perfect pun for right now. So much salt in the air, Kristen wanted to go swimming—what a weirdo— and Alastair said something about resentment which was that really big word to say you hated someone. And Raf had snored so the joke really applied to everyone. Sorta.

Speaking of hate. Kalix obviously looked over his broad shoulder so he could openly glare at the family of elves. He’d take them all on if they even looked at him wrong. Unfortunately for him, they didn’t even seem to catch his overbearing stare. Or they just ignored him.
 

Kristen Pirian

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The wagon turned and drove away.

Kristen cast a second glance toward the departing family of elves in the wake of Alistair's comment. She found herself sadly agreeing with him. For most of her life, she'd had the blessing to keep Vel Anir's military actions at arm's length. It was simply something that she had the luxury to hardly consider, and she concerned herself busily with other matters, other topics. But now, though, as a Dreadlord Initiate, she was destined to be right at the heart of it.

What little she had heard of foreign wars, into Falwood and against elves...disturbed her. Resentment on the part of the elves seemed natural. But then, they were not human--who knew how they thought?

She retained some optimism. "I would hope that they do not," she replied. She made a small sweeping gesture with her hand, indicating Ostia Anir at large. "There is peace here. Shouldn't that be enough?"

Raf was roughly awakened, and out of the wagon he came. Along with Kalix. A diverse trio to be assigned with on this particular mission, and Kristen held each in a different regard. With Alistair she felt a comfortable familiarity, and a subtle pining for the way things were back in her noble life. With Raf, he with his easy-going nature, she felt calm. With Kalix...he made her nervous, much like others in the Academy with a similarly intense and loud personality. She almost felt as though this mission would be defined by herself and Alistair adjudicating between the moderation of Raf and the recklessness of Kalix as to the best course of action in any given situation.

Stop being so fucking salty.

Kristen thought Kalix was talking to Raf specifically with that. She scratched the back of her neck, anxious, and then said to Kalix, "Well, the driver did hit Raf...w-without good cause?"

It fell apart at the end, sounding more like she asking Kalix rather than telling him.

Alistair Krixus Raf Kalix
 
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"You were sleeping and the man had places to be," Alistair explained with a shrug. "Quickest way to get you up was through contact. I do agree that it might have been a bit much, but it's not worth our time to think about it."

They were supposed to meet up with Walter Banick at some point, but he had no idea where so he left it up to Lord Banick to find them.

He looked around the city, at least the parts that he could see.

"The place doesn't look that bad. I suppose with recent...events, Lord Banick probably feels like he can increase the power and influence of Ostia Anir during these uncertain times." At this point, Alistair was more thinking to himself rather than talking to anyone specific person.

If anyone could hold an intelligent conversation with him then it would have to be Kristen. Raf was nice enough to talk to, but a little naïve, which was also refreshing in the right situation. Kalix was...Kalix.
 

Raf

The Mimic
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"Thank you Kristen." The Initiate said. "You're always so supportive."

There wasn't a hint of sarcasm in Raf's tone. Unlike many others at the Academy, Raf rather enjoyed their new noble companion. She was a breath of fresh air among the dour and often angry Apprentices that made up his peers.

He appreciated that.

Particularly when he was surrounded by Negative Nancies like Kalix. The Mimic let out a loud sigh as Alistair admonished him, though decided to simply drop the topic. No use arguing about his sleep, not when there was...what were they doing again?

A frown touched his lips for a brief moment, and he simply decided to glom onto Alistair's comment. "Yeah he probably does."

Raf agreed, though had no idea what the fuck Alistair was talking about.

"Hey Kristen, you're a noble." He pointed out. "Are you related to this...Banick?"
 

Kalix

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Kalix snorted. He looked back over to glare at Kristen and then Alistair and then Raf. What a bunch of nerds! Power? Uncertain times? BOR-ing. And they were idiots, too. He sneered at Raf’s question.

KP’s last name is Pirian, dumbass.” Kalix informed, a gloating look on his face as he interjected. “Not Banick! Or else we’d call her KB.” Despite being a menace at the academy to everyone, and picking on everyone, Kalix looked at Kristen with a look that said “you’re welcome.”

Why let her speak when he can speak for her? At least he didn’t stutter.

Where the hell is this Banick anyways?” Kalix said. “If we’re here to knock some heads then let’s get on it!.” And to drive his point further that he was a very impatient man, he kicked up some dirt with his foot to scatter around his fellow initiate’s shoes.
 

Kristen Pirian

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Kristen at first beamed when Raf sincerely thanked her.

Then recoiled ever so slightly at Raf's question. "W-What? No. Of course not." Funnily enough, in the manner that Kristen sometimes conveyed with her responses, she sounded as though it was somehow her fault for not being related to Lord Banick. It didn't exactly help that her response was mumbling and quiet, probably not heard.

Kalix clearly clarified for Raf, and Kristen couldn't help the tiny tremor of jittery nerves when he specifically looked her way, despite the relatively mild expression. She never could shake the idea, strange though it may be, that through some grievous mishap she'd provoke him into biting her. Where had she gotten such a notion from?

She looked back to Alistair. Surely he had the clearest estimation of the task they'd all come here for. Increasing the power and influence of this city, and of House Banick by extension. Kristen would always freely admit that she was no military genius, but even she had an idea of what their task, outlined as Alistair had put it, entailed. And if so, this would be a far cry from what previous few missions she'd been allowed on. Did Proctor Magomo...have some small amount of faith in her now?

Kristen didn't have much time to ponder. From the construction site of the Canal Tenements approached Count Walter Banick.

Alistair Krixus Raf Kalix
 
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Walter Banick

Count of Ostia Anir
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The messenger had informed Walter of the good news first: that the Academy had exceeded Walter's expectation and allotted four Initiates for the Canal Project. And then, of course, he had told Walter about Initiate Pirian.

Though annoyed, thinking perhaps that Proctor Magomo (whom Walter had come to befriend after the two got past an icy reception by sharing war stories with one another) had orchestrated a grandiose jest upon him, Walter nevertheless endeavored not to let it bother him too much. There were larger concerns.

Walter was trailed by a few of his knighted bannermen, all of them mounted upon horses, and they in turn by a fair few attendants and servants. As he approached the edge of the construction site, some fifteen or twenty meters, he held up a hand, silently ordering them to stay whilst he continued on alone to greet the four Initiates. His overcoat he'd left in his tent, and the sleeves of his dark blue doublet were rolled up to his elbows.

Walter stopped before them. Surveyed them, with his hands on his hips. He spoke cordially, almost casually, "Initiates. Welcome to Ostia Anir."

He stepped forward, intent on greeting each one of them individually. First was Alistair. Walter extended a hand for him to shake.

"Alistair Krixus," he said, meeting the noble boy's gaze. He was aware that Krixus's prestige did not come from producing warriors or mages of great renown. Alistair, it would seem, was a track to change that. "Setting a new example for your House, perhaps? Impressive."

Alistair Krixus
 
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Alistair heard the entourage of horse hooves before he saw them, but he mumbled loud enough for the others to hear. "He's coming." Sure enough, Count Banick rounded the corner, bringing a procession of knights with him.

Alistair stood to his full height and instinctively wanted to bow, but nobles were on equal footing now...technically. That means he needed to come across as resolute and not submissive. He stretched out his hand and shook the Count's hand firmly.

"Thank you for having us. I plan on continuing my family's history of service...in more direct ways." He hoped the last comment made it clear. The Krixus house would no longer remain in the background of Anirian politics, not with him here.

Walter Banick
 

Walter Banick

Count of Ostia Anir
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"Excellent," Walter said, matching the firmness of Alistair's shake. "In times as tumultuous as these, men of your character are needed more than ever. May the House of Krixus benefit from your accomplishments."

Then Walter moved on to Raf. Again, he extended a hand to shake to the taller, younger man.

"Rafael Maier. I have met with the Governor of Vel Osgen on several occasions. He speaks highly of the Maier family." Walter cracked a slight smile, his tone becoming one of dry self-deprecating humor. "You'll have to forgive my blatant attempt to undermine your home city with this Canal Project."

Alistair Krixus Raf
 
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Raf

The Mimic
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Raf seemed to stiffen slightly as Walter mentioned his family.

He had never really been shy about who he was, nor where he came from. Raf wasn't like Liliana who tried to lord his position over someone, more often than not he liked to forget about it. The weight of responsibility it came with, the...

The idea that he would have to go back. Raf couldn't help but frown as the Lord brought it all crashing back on him. "That's alright."

He said, scratching the back of his head.

"I'm sure my dad will make a healthy profit from it." From what his letters said, the old man had a habit of doing that. After the Revolution the Maier Family had only gotten richer, a biproduct of free trade laws. "Err...my Lord."

Raf added as an afterthought.
 

Walter Banick

Count of Ostia Anir
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Walter noted the adverse reaction, and he made an effort to veer into generalities on the overall subject matter.

"Indeed. The Canal Project ought to make both Ostia Anir and Vel Osgen more competitive with the current titan of seaborne trade: Vel Luin." A closing smile. "And you'll receive high marks from this endeavor--all goes well."

On to the next Initiate, Kalix. A small something, which had begged Walter's notice and finally gained it: By Kress, the Academy's budget on food surely hadn't suffered at all, had it? Walter saw eye-to-eye with the young lord Alistair only, the rest all slightly taller, having grown above average. Good. Very good.

An offered hand to shake once more. "Initiate Kalix." Walter hadn't been informed of this one's family name, though it was something of a trend in the Academy to be shed of one. "Graduation from the Academy draws nigh. So, how do you feel about serving in the military?"

Raf Kalix
 
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Kalix

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Blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah. Blah blah blah blahblahblah. Blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah BLAH!

Kalix blinked when his name was said, and he looked at Banick, and then stood up straighter. He had been called to attention, after all. Also, what better way to show off his height than right now? He had to look tough after all.

Can’t wait! My big brother is already there, waiting for me. And together we’re gonna be the best!” Instead of looking grouchy, Kalix was actually beaming. And while the words and thought process were simple, there was no denying that Kalix believed— and was excited by— every single word he had just said. But there was really nothing more to say one the matter. And so Kalix got a faraway look in his eyes, picturing a future when him and Lysander would be side by side, destroying a whole elven army without breaking a sweat. The future looked bright.
 

Walter Banick

Count of Ostia Anir
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"Outstanding. I've not had the opportunity to meet your brother, though I'm sure that both of you will serve with distinction through the years."

To be honest, Walter was rather surprised by Kalix's enthusiasm. If one merely read the naked letter of the Academy's notes on Kalix, one would rightly conclude that the boy, whilst possessing talent, lacked the ideal makings of a disciplined soldier. Though it was only the initial impression, Kalix's demeanor seemed to run contrary to the report.

As it was with all of them, battle would reveal their mettle, their resolve, their character.

And that brought him to Kristen Pirian.

He held out his hand for her to shake, as he had with the others. She gingerly reached forward and clasped it. Her grip, noticeably, was by far the meekest. "Kristen Pirian," he said. "Are you nervous?"

Her response appeared to be stuck on her tongue for a moment. "...N-No."

Walter chuckled, clapping his other hand to her wrist. "Don't be. You have some impressive shoes to fill for House Pirian, following in Evangeline D'Amour's example. She'll want to hear word of your success."

With that, Walter stood before all four of the Initiates again, his hands crossed behind his back. "For the duration of this mission, you will be reporting directly to me. Our task will be straightforward: evicting the residents of three elven settlements. Some will accept my offer of housing here in Ostia Anir," he gestured behind himself to the Canal Tenements, "and some will decide to go elsewhere. Some will go peacefully, and some will not."

He didn't know how each of the Initiates felt about Elvenkind, but he suspected that, like a great many of his noble contemporaries, their views might be overly uncharitable--and thus, excited at the prospect of quelling expected resistance. Time would tell.

"We will begin tomorrow. Tonight, your billeting will be in the guest rooms of my estate, and my servants have been instructed to attend to your needs. Relax, and get a good night's rest."

A glance over all of them.

"Do you have any questions?"

Alistair Krixus Raf Kalix
 
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Of course, that should have been obvious. Maybe if Alistair would have looked at a map then he would have figured it out. A canal project of this size would have to move some population. He was not sure if it just so happened to be the elven ones, but it did not matter. All that mattered was that the elves were moving, and he was pretty sure they were solely there to handle the ones that would not leave peacefully.

Alistair's opinion of elves was not well developed. He had never had a chance to interact with many of them, although he had done plenty of readings on them.

"Any potential organized resistance by these settlements, or we looking at more individualized instances?"
 

Raf

The Mimic
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Raf felt no real enthusiasm for evicting hapless people of any sort. It had been part of what he had been made to do for nearly five years now, ever since he’d been old enough to go on missions in the first place. He had never particularly liked it, though could never pinpoint why.

Someone like Sable might have been able to say it wasn’t because it was right, but for Raf?

It was something that eluded him still. The daze of disassociating from what happened at the academy kept things like Morality and Justice at bay. Something that he needed to survive, even in this New Republic.

Still, he frowned, staying uncharacteristically quiet.

He wondered if it was always going to be like this.

He wondered if his father did his business like this. If it was so, he had even less of an inclination to meet the man. Even if he was blood. Raf’s frown continued, even as Lord Banick offered more luxury than he’d likely ever had before.
 

Kalix

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Kalix’s large hand gave a firm handshake back to Lord Banick, his gold eyes sparkling after being complimented. Made sense why he hadn’t heard of Lysander though, he liked to lay low, keep a “low profile” or whatever. Kalix thought of himself more like a star— or the sun! In your face every day and when he wasn’t there you noticed big time.

Trailing behind the others, listening a bit more now because this conversation was more important than the stuff before. Kalix elbowed Kristen, seeking her attention.

Hey, hey, hey.” Kalix said, loudly whispering, “What the fuck does billeting mean?” It was a genuine question as could be seen by the way that he was scowling at Kristen. He was not going to ask Banick about a word that he said so casually, but at the same time, while he could piece together it meant sleeping arrangements, it didn’t exactly clear up some of the questions in his head.

Specifically, if it meant whether or not Banick had any stray cats around his “estate” or not. Fancy schmancy people seemed to only like dogs ever.
 

Walter Banick

Count of Ostia Anir
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Walter started to walk in his stately manner, and he bid the Initiates to follow. His entourage of bannermen, servants, and attendants emerged from the construction site and trailed behind the lot of them.

"Good question, young lord," Walter said. "We are expecting individual pockets of resistance, if any, within the first two settlements: Elyr'Adith and Elyr'Morath. However, the third, a fully elven city named Alys Seranine, is a known haven of the Fellowship. They're a ruthless band of elven fighters, human-slayers in name and trade, and they won't need any excuse to attack us on sight. I do not know if the Academy has shared with you the stories of their cruelty and barbarism."

He looked back over his shoulder at them all, his eye with a stern gleam in it. "Do not let them take you, nor any human, alive."

Walter continued on down the avenue, walking in the direction of the Banick Estate.

Alistair Krixus Raf Kalix
 
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Kristen Pirian

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Kristen was made nervous quite easily. Something she was trying to grow out of (and the Academy certainly helping to iron out) but still she had a long way to go.

The idea of going into a full-scale military action made her nervous. So did Raf's sudden silence as they were walking. Same with Lord Banick's answer to Alistair (and let alone the fact of House Banick and House Pirian's misgivings for one another in the past).

And, of course, what was most immediate: Kalix made her nervous. Look at the way he was scowling at her! W-Why? It was as if she had invented the word "billeting" solely as a means to spite him, and he had taken hefty personal offense at such an affront.

"B-Billeting means where we shall be staying for the night. Our quarters," she whispered back to Kalix. Struck by a sudden indulgence of pleasant memory, Kristen lost some of that nervousness and whispered further, "Oh, perhaps our beds will have multiple sets of fluffed pillows! Those are quite the treat."

In the Academy, they may as well have been issued a sack of potatoes upon which to rest their weary heads, such was the quality of the singular pillow offered in the dorms.

Alistair Krixus Raf Kalix
 
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Alistair nodded in understanding at the explanation. It meant that the first two towns would be easy, but the four of them were expected to take down an elven town filled with elven fighters who had probably been fighting for much longer than any of them had been living.

He was silent after that as his brain fixated on all the possible things that could go wrong in this operation. He to Raf, Kalix, and Kristen. If they could pull this off then it would certainly mean high marks and recognition.

"Well, nothing worth doing is ever easy."
 

Raf

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"Well." Raf sounded about as disconnected as physically possible., "That will be nice."

The young initate was...well, he was a about as far away from all of this as anyone could actually be.

It wasn't like he disliked his peers, or even that he objected to their circumstances. Well, not entirely. There was just something about all of this that made him feel uneasy. Lips thinned as he glanced at the others, looking towards Alistair.

He chuckled. "Yeah."

Raf said uneasily.

"Not easy." He agreed with a shake of his head, still not entirely sure that he liked being here at all.
 

Kalix

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Character Biography
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Fluffed… pillows.” Kalix said slowly, and looked up at the sky with a deep in thought look. Kalix had a wonderful talent of being able to sleep anywhere. Finding places high up and in the sun was practically his speciality. A hidden talent, one could say. And then suddenly, a thought dawned on him. “You mean… we might get more than one pillow?” Kalix asked almost incredously. “Whoa it must be nice to be rich!

He had only caught onto the more important conversation at the end, specifically, something about it not being easy.

Of course it’ll be easy.” He said loudly, “you weaklings have me! I’ll blow any elf in our way straight to the moon.” He was grinning. There had been quite a few times that— and this was obviously before the revolution— when the idiots were placed in the ring with him, Kalix had the nasty habit of adding extra force to whatever weapon he was using.

Even his fists counted, and he could count at least a dozen times that a single punch in the face caused the loser’s teeth to fly straight out of their mouth. Kalix may not have been able to describe gravity or even how to spell it correctly (gravety) but he knew how to use it in a fight. And that was all that mattered!

Kristen Pirian Alistair Krixus Raf