[centre][b]Rheinfeld - Scheideweg; Draza[/b]
[i]Small and deft; sneaky but pure and innocent in demeanour

Also, soothing aura![/i][/centre]
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The journey back homeward was one she wasn’t exactly anticipating to be on so soon after her joining the ranks of the Blades, but it was one she’d relish anyway. Not only for the ride and time spent on the road with her new companions as she tried to befriend even more of them, but also for some old friends. While she never had all the Templar in her extended circle of friends, there were some, and they were here with her. From days so long past that it seems almost a distant memory.

Days when there were gods. When good and evil were simpler. When she befriended the archetypical order of mage hunters and traveled with them for the defence of the nation, the betterment of the people, keeping their spirits good and lifted.

Many say that the Templar have given up their ability to smile for the sake of their order. They’re wrong.

There were seven from the old group here; Templar Lanzo, Templar Augustyna, Templar Margarete, Templar Ladislava, Templar Jarek, Templar Dariusz, Templar Bartolomej, and Templar Zbynek, and while the others of the Blades were not so welcome near the Templar, Draza found herself warmly welcomed by her old friends and rode near them for a great duration of the ride.

“So how’s our mascot?” asked Zbynek, reaching over to ruffle her unbraided hair with a finger as one would use a hand for a full sized person. 

Draza swatted at it but grinned nonetheless, “Eh, you know, just finding new groups to try to keep grinning.”

Dariusz leaned forward against his horse to try to get his eyes level with Draza, “Still doing that in a pure way, right?”

Ladislava was quick to smack Dariusz on the back, “Brother Dariusz, mind yourself!” she said with a heavy tone, disguising her own grin in the process, “Draza’s a proper little lady, she’d never do that just for someone’s smile.”

“Not even her own?” Dariusz pulled back to look at Ladislava, and missed Draza throw a small stone at him as it bounced harmlessly off his armour.

“Who I know is my business, not your prerogative, Dariusz,” she chastised, holding a small hand out as Ladislava gave her a gentle highfive.

“I can’t believe how childish you all get around her,” Jarek shook his head slowly as he rode along on his own horse.

“Big talk coming from someone who’s as ticklish as you are,” Margarete spoke up, “Not very manly to laugh so hard that you pis--” he was cut off as Draza threw a small stone against his armour too. Margarete turned to Draza and stuck her tongue out, a gesture she returned before making a childish gesture of her hands as well.

“Hey, that only happened once! And I’m not ticklish to any of you, so,” Jarek began and stammered a bit before giving a false glare at Draza, “And even then it wasn’t ticklish. It was my body just thinking it was being attacked and being sensitive to it… keep me on my feet.”

“You were anything but on your feet,” Draza interrupted with a childlike singsong tone to her voice, and Zbynek broke into a hearty chuckle at the memory.

“You were like a wriggling little bug, a man possessed. We had to convince everyone that you weren’t [i]actually[/i] possessed by a demon that eve!” Dariusz spoke up.

Jarek looked frustrated as hell as he turned over to Augustyna, “Little help here, Sist--”

“As your sister in so many ways, you should know I’m all but getting off on your embarrassment right now,” Augustyna said with a remarkably even and cool tone to her voice. More than Jarek’s sister in the order, she was also his sister by the same mother, but a different father, “Besides, you brought this on yourself.”

And on it went.

While Draza and her old friends reminisced about the ‘good old days’, things were not all light and carefree. The journey was still long, and in longer hours still talk of what came of those who were not able to be there came up. There were deaths of friends, and the uncomfortable talk of the Republic, which Draza defended best she could.

Eventually, the entire group arrived at the field and tents of discussion for terms and other such things. Where Draza, and the other wordsmiths would be most needed. A civil war was not something that could be talked out of, specially when one such party within it had essentially gone full evil.

However, it seemed that Taigyn and Davian were somewhat uneasy, though for what reasons exactly Draza couldn’t quite pick up on, until Davian spoke up, [b]“Alida is unaccounted for.”[/b] So much was true, Draza couldn’t see Alida, and that wasn’t exactly good news given her importance. But, maybe she was just at her side of the encampments. They did travel in differing groups. 

[b]“We should rectify this. Davian, find her and ensure she is safe.”[/b] Taigyn spoke to Davian, and Draza almost mirrored Davian’s feelings of the request. That was not, at least in her mind, the best person to send after them. Davian on his own did not seem one to hold his tongue, and Alida was one that would draw it out, and not in the ways that most would enjoy. 

[b]“Right... Of course, me. The one she threw a dagger at.”[/b] Davian said, flatly in his own way of begrudging agreement despite disapproval.

Taigyn smiles a little smugly. [b]“Don't say anything and you'll be fine.”[/b] Davian leaves without any further protest towards the Republican side of the camp, and Draza turned to her companions of the Templar.

“I think I should go too,” she said to the old friends. They weren’t too comfortable with open agreement with her line of thought, whether they had agreement or not, but there was an awkward nod from them, “Besides, they’re my people too, right?”

"I'll help you find Alida." Zin stepped forth from the group of Queen's Blades and followed Davian, "Better two sets of eyes than one, after all.” Draza turned around and saw Zin, a friend in the Blades that she had talked with before about illusions and noncombat and the like, trying to join up diplomatically.

“Well, if you have to go, do you still have your whistle?” asked Margarete, taking Draza’s attention from Zin and Davian. Draza nodded quickly and pulled out an old metal whistle, something from her time with them, a call for help that the seven of them knew quite well.

“Two blows and you guys come and save my little pixie butt, I remember,” she said as she dangled the whistle and put it back away, “I’ll see you guys later, it’s probably nothing. Alida should be fine…” she wasn’t entirely sure of that, and nor were her friends. Regardless, she took her leave of them upon her steed and came up over behind Zin and Davian, “Templar Davian, I do hope you do not mind my companionship on the saunter o’er. Don’t think I’m here to try to take over your work, I just have some sweets from the trail I’d like to share with them as well,” she said going for her pack to pull out a crisp trail biscuit made with dried berries, dried fruit, honey, and oats and grain made over a fire in the wilds instead of a kitchen. It was crisp and near caramelized, with a crunch and bursts of soft sweetness from the fruit and berries in it. 

Then, her eyes went up and her head bowed as she rode behind respectfully still, “Oh, my manners, how rude of me to not offer you one first, specifically after saying that I was to bring them to others,” her head lowered still, “I beg forgiveness, is there a flavour you would prefer?”