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Arton's mind wandered to the countless villages he had helped over the years from monster, bandits, and later on the Blight. The edges of his lips and brow twinged barely concealing his anger at their circumstances. Despicable. He breathed the word out under his breath. This, more than anything, tilted his feelings towards Valheim and their forces. Arton felt a sliver of Izayoi's fury enter his heart with every sullen face they passed "I agree." He nearly said through his teeth at Galahad's comment.

His attention was too focused on the state of the villagers that he barely spotted the Viera watching them before she spoke, more so reacting to his companions than actually realizing she was there. It startled him slightly and the looks she was giving towards some of their party, Galahad in particular, was enough for him to hover his hand over his sword's hilt waiting for either Izayoi's or Galahad's direction. The muscles in his body momentarily tensed but slowly eased up as the Viera and Izayoi began to talk.

There was something about her smile that felt like it was a smokescreen for her true intentions. It didn't seem fake per se, but there was something clearly hidden underneath "I can't imagine a group like ours would go undetected for long even if we did get in." He nodded towards Rudolf. Arton wasn't even sure who this 'old friend' of Izayoi's could even be. His imagination turned towards some kind of powerful warlord or ninja master though he couldn't exactly picture either.





She shifted her weight onto her right leg, hands resting on her hips as she patiently let the misfit group talk amongst themselves. It would have been suspicious if Izayoi simply believed her from the start, if what her mistress said about her was true. The idea, however, of bringing Edrenians into the heart of Osprey make her sick to her stomach. Her personal feelings couldn't be allowed to affect the mission so she did her best to suppress them. She closed her eyes and her chest rose as she took a deep breath.

"A clever one, aren't you?" She lightly giggled "It seems the Garden hasn't slacked on their training." This was sure to make their infiltration easier if they decided to listen, but she would definitely be keeping an eye on Esben. Her eyes glanced to their flanks, ears twitching in response to faint, minute sounds in the distance and the low murmur of curious voices "Why don't we discuss this more on the road? There is still a ways to go."

Ranbu no Izayoi


The moment Arton returned from gathering firewood, Izayoi waited for him to stoke the fire before heading off to the wagon. She brushed Goug aside with a brief nod before retrieving two bundles from their supplies.

”Come.” She said in a commanding tone to Arton as she returned to camp, gesturing for him to follow. They went a ways away, though still in view of the fire. Izayoi tossed him the first of the bundles before unwrapping her own. When he opened his, it would reveal a wooden sword, crafted to the length and width of his own.

Of course, the moment Arton had the wooden longsword in hand, Izayoi charged, brandishing her bokken. She delivered two strikes, both aimed toward his chest. A stinging reminder to be vigilant.

Two stacks of cut logs rested on Arton’s shoulders as he made his way back to camp and set them down into a pile. It was more than enough to get them through the night. He immediately tossed a couple pieces onto the roaring fire, stoking it with a small branch he had found. His mind was drifting to thoughts of what he should put together for breakfast when he heard his name called. Arton nodded though unsure what she needed him for “Right behind ya.”

Arton caught the bundle with both hands and looked up curiously at Izayoi before he began to unravel it. To his surprise, there was a wooden replica of his sword inside. To his greater surprise, It was barely in his hands before the first strike struck his chest. Dull pain spread around the impact as he scrambled to parry the second one, making it only a partial success.

He took a step back to create some distance, pointing the wooden swords towards Izayoi “I take it that was my first lesson?” It was time to see what he signed up for.

”Focus!”

Izayoi didn’t let up, already closing the distance that Arton had made between himself and her. She’d beat the lesson into him until he’d internalized it. Just as had been done with her long ago.

”If you’ve time to posture, you’ve time to seize the initiative!” She snarled, raising her bokken with only one hand to bring it crashing down towards his shoulder.

His eyes tried to track her movement and anticipate her next attack, moving a fraction too slow to prevent her next attack. Wood cracked against solid muscle and Arton winced slightly. Any trace of his jovial expression dropped and determination flashed in his eyes.

The Sollan lunged forwards and imitated the opening two strikes Izayoi had done against him, figuring striking from above would leave an opening long enough. They were quick but it was clear Arton had rarely ever had to face an opponent of equal or greater ability.

Frankly, Izayoi wasn’t sure whether it spoke more to Arton’s ability or her deterioration that she’d actually had to stop and parry the blows. The Mystrel grit her teeth, Arton’s brute strength forcing her back more than she’d like.

Her foot shot up in a kick towards his knee in order to unbalance him, and Izayoi followed up by ramming her wooden sword hilt-first straight at Arton’s nose.

”A competent warrior uses all that they have at their disposal.” She lectured as she struck, her tone severe.

Arton restrained himself from smirking as he managed to gain some ground. He brought back the sword and was preparing another strike when Izayoi’s kick connected with his knee. The speed and force of the strike caused him to wobble and lower his head right into the hilt of her weapon.

He let out a small grunt as he stumbled backwards a couple steps “Noted.” His sword was lifted into a guarded stance as he charged.

A heavy swing came from above, his left hand separating from the grip as it came down. The fingers curled into a fist as it tucked into his arm, preparing to shoot forward towards her chest alongside the blade.

Izayoi parried the sword in time, but Arton’s punch knocked her back, causing her to grit her teeth and push past the pain as she pulled herself up.

”Better. Now be faster.” She surged forward, striking at a swifter pace from here on out.

___

Back and forth they went, for nigh on an hour. By the time Izayoi called for both of them to lower her blades, both of them at least winded, Arton had landed at least a few blows on her. Of course, she’d managed far more in return, but the fact that it had gotten to this point was telling in the first place.

”We will resume nightly if we can. At least once every other day if we cannot, based on unforeseen circumstances. You are…not incompetent.” She nodded begrudgingly. ”Whomever taught you did an adequate job. Now, tell me what you believe you lack, based upon this bout.”

Arton wiped a trickle of blood from his lip with the back of his hand, his chest heaving with deep breaths. Each bruise and welt on his body was a lesson he planned on taking to heart. A large smile creased his lips at what he considered high praise though it lost some luster at her request ”I was kinda hoping you would tell me…” He laughs nervously before sitting on a fallen log, knowing that wouldn’t cut it.

”I lack…decisiveness, I guess I should call it.” Too often his mind wanders to other thoughts than being present in the fight in front of him. The severity and ferocity in which Izayoi took down her opponents, he wanted to emulate that.

A nod. At least he already knew what he erred in. Fortunate that Arton wasn’t an idiot, else this would be much more difficult.

”Indeed. Mindset influences the flow of combat as much as physical conditioning does. Abandon all considerations aside from the fight. You are a hunter. Your foe: your prey. At least, that is how I was taught. When you have the initiative, capitalize up on it. When you do not, do everything in your power to seize it. Combat is won by whom controls the flow of battle more.”

Izayoi remained standing, reaching for a waterskin and taking a long pull before continuing.

”You are, without a doubt, more physically well-conditioned than I am at this moment. I abandoned the sword for five years, after all. Yet I still controlled the pace of the duel. Consider your foe as something that must be felled. Consider the consequences should you fail. A warrior is a weapon, and your mind must be as honed for violence as your body.”

”Hunter. Prey…” He repeated under his breath as he absorbed the insight. Izayoi's words in the context of their fight gave him a fair understanding of what she meant. Arton needed to be a predator on the battlefield and seek every advantage he could.

He looked directly up at her as his lesson continued. Despite his defeat, this session had provided him with some validation. Arton was especially hard on himself and he sometimes forgot that he was indeed a capable warrior. It was this lingering doubt that seemed to hold him back and if he wanted to be better he’d have to heed Izayoi’s wisdom. He closed his eyes and crossed his arms in front of him before rising to his feet ”I look forward to next time, this was as great as I expected.” His gaze drifted to the dim light of the campfire in the distance ”Should we return to the others? I’m kinda beat.” He chuckled.

___

Arton returned to the warmth of the campfire walking a little stiff and with noticeable bruises illuminated by the fire-light. He gingerly lowered himself onto the ground where he took a long drink of water. There was no doubt in his mind as he rolled out his sleeping mat that he would have the best sleep he's gotten in awhile. Someone else would have to take the first watch because there was little chance he would stay awake much longer.

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Arton gave a final grateful nod to the red Mystrel before he pushed himself back onto his feet and followed behind Eliane. He was not about to sit behind a wall while his allies risked their lives and he had been hurt worse than this before. Eliane was the one person he had been hesitant about but right now he was intent on protecting her flank, giving her more opportunities to fire. Arton manipulated his shield in quick movements, deflecting bullets that whizzed their way. One shot managed to slip past his defenses but the heavy padding and plate of his pauldron stopped it.

But they weren't alone.

Besides the red Mystrel, there was practically a whole other party that had showed up to their aid. The grim situation quickly turned into a hopeful one as everyone converged on the remaining Valheimians. Arton's sword deflected a sideways swipe and repaid it with a shield bash to the offender's throat. The sound of cracking bone was enough to know he was out of the fight. His movements directly played off Eliane's, covering her back and finishing enemies she threw to the side.

The shouts of his companions urged him forward, gave him the strength to shed whatever fatigue he had. His blade sliced through flesh and pierced weak spots. His shield back by his incredible strength crushed through armor and snapped bones. There was no room to think about anything except his next move.

Arton caught the soldier Eliane kicked with the point of his blade, quickly removing him from it before continuing on. There seemed to be a natural cohesion between their movements. It was rough but the way they were fighting together was very close to how those at the Garden were taught. New voices echoed throughout the battlefield but he could focus on them once they had won. A quick glance around that the situation told him they were on the cusp of victory, thanks to these strangers.


Arton was seated to Izayoi's left, idly chewing on some jerky as one by one the strangers began to introduce themselves. He listened closely to Esben introduce his friend bearing a light, cheerful expression at the thought of new allies. A sharp cough escaped his mouth as he nearly choked on a bit of his food. He tapped his chest with his fist to help dislodge anything that might have fallen down the wrong pipe. 'There's more of them now? Just when I thought I could relax...' He thought anxiously to himself. It couldn't be a coincidence, not with what Cyth revealed to him.

Neither of them seemed all too interested in him, not surprising since he intentionally tried to keep a low profile. A small fire sparked in his chest, however, at not being given the same recognition. His attention immediately turned to Miina when she spoke up, eager to shift his mind to something else "Nice to meet ya, Miina. That magic of yours came in real handy." A bright smile accompted his words, hoping to put her somewhat at ease. That extra kick probably saved him from taking anymore serious injuries in the counter-attack.

He leaned slightly forward, arms resting across his legs as Eve spoke up. Arton had not really seen her during the chaotic battle but he had been well aware of her efforts. His smile soon dropped as she lifted the hood that had masked much of her features. Arton's blue eyes went wide at the draconic features, not out of disgust but out of surprise. It was impossible not to stare. His brows furrowed in a pathetic attempt to hide his anger as ideas about how it came to be flashed in his mind. What was the right response to such a thing? "It's a good thing you were around, Eve. I'm sure you saved Gal a few bruises." He let out a long breath, squeezing his right hand as he let the tension go.

It was then that the young, dark-haired man jumped to their feet. The eccentric spin on her words coupled with the higher-pitched voice led Arton to believe Robin couldn't be any older than late teens. Regardless of their age, they had proven themself today. He stifled a small laugh, remembering that he once used the same kind of flourish when he began his journey "It seems fate is on your side as well." He lightly chucked.

Arton waited for Galahad to speak before he would make his own introduction to the newcomers. He spoke with much more authority than Arton think he realized. It at least gave him time to consider what exactly he was going to say because out of everyone here he was the less notable. He stood up confidently "Gods know we could use all the help we could get, especially if that Captain is going to be coming after us." Arton gave a quick wave Name's Arton Yule. Nice to have all of y'all for company this night." With that, he glanced over at the fire which has begun to ever so slightly dim.

He turned to Galahad and gestured to the nearby woods "Fire's getting a bit low, I'll make sure we have enough wood for tonight."It was just an excuse to leave before Rudolf and Esben could ask any kind of questions plus they would need a bit more fuel to last them until morning. Arton turned and moved over to his backpack where he retrieved a handaxe before making his way towards the wooded area.




Reisa's shoulders slightly slumped as Izayoi's charge fell short but noticeably the imposing Captain had yet to draw upon her blade. Her attention shifting from staring down the mad Mystrel, to her lieutenant, and then to the foot soldiers that were directly engaged. Every order that came from her lips or from a hand signal was almost immediately obeyed. This was not the chaotic surprise attack that had been launched on the castle. These were well-drilled soldiers that had utter confidence in their leader. Despite the Valheimians numerical advantage, they refrained from going for any decisive action. Comrades fell but with each minute the battle raged on, Reisa would remain fresh while her foes grew ever more exhausted.

She paced back and forth like a large savannah cat as Izayoi regrouped with Arton and Eliane. Reisa gave another order that was drowned out by the sound of gunfire and a portion of the line that separated Izayoi from Reisa diverged to assist the lieutenant. Her blade slid from its scabbard the moment that Izayoi evacuated from cover and began her assault, though her stance was casual and loose. The captain's attention quickly shifted to the reinforcements that entered the battle on Izayoi's behalf and a couple had managed to flank their position. Her gaze flicked around the battlefield as one by one her troops began to fall. The battle was lost.

"That...will have to wait." Her voice projected, venomous frustration clear. Her sword returned to its scabbard in one fluid motion and her other hand retrieved a faint, sky-blue crystal wrapped in gold leaf. Without a second more delay, Reisa held crystal towards the sky and with a sharp, electrical crack a bright ball of light emitted from the crystal. The light faded quickly and Reisa was nowhere to be seen, the ground lightly scorched where she had stood.



This was the moment. The situation was quickly turning against them against this assailant. A pure butcher. Izayoi's suffering made manifest. He wasn't surprised at the pure, wild rage that burned in her throat when facing the one responsible for losing her family. Arton was certain he would show no mercy to the ones who took his family away from him. This was something they shared. It came as a shock as Izayoi delayed her revenge to duck behind cover next to them. The potion rolled into his hands and it was in that moment that Izayoi fully earned his admiration and trust.

"On your signal." He slightly struggled to say before lifting the flash to his lips and drank. The wounds scattered around his body began to seal and close, but it wasn't enough. Adrenaline had kept him unaware of the multitude of other injuries that he had sustained, the materia in his possession pushing him further than what most could handle.

His attention immediately shifted towards the red Mystrel that seemingly appeared out of nowhere and was, out of everything, running towards him. Tension briefly rose in his legs and arms but as she drew closer he understood she was here on their side. There were other voices that joined the fray, calling to Izayoi as she rushed towards the enemy commander. He desperately wanted to join her and Galahad in the assault, but the potion hadn't managed to fully heal the gunshot wound in his leg. Mixed between surprise and relief, Arton nodded towards the Mystrel knowing that he would only get in Izayoi's way in this state.

"Thank you." He uttered simply, grunting a little as he shifted so she could have better access to his leg where blood still trickled out. There was a certain amount of embarrassment and shame he felt as Eliane, Izayoi, and Galahad continued to fight while he sat here. The loud crack and bright light that followed captured his attention, though he couldn't see over the cover he was behind.




"I am pleased you still consider it your home. It seems leaving it intact was a sound investment." Satisfaction lined her words and there was not doubt there was a smirk hidden under her metal visage. The assault from her troops continued amidst their conversation as she gave out orders with precise hands movements.

Reisa didn't make a move after hearing Izayoi's question, pacing a few steps before responding "It is difficult to trust others to get the job done, isn't that right?" She turned to the lieutenant and clearly said something to them before she raised a finger in the air and made a circular motion. The frontline of the Valheimians began to gradually spread out to cut off the flanks of Team Kirin.

Eliane's salvo whizzed towards Reisa who stepped out of the way of the first two shots, letting the bullets fly past her right then left side. Her shield was brought up in a flash of movement and the rest of barrage was deflected off its surface. Her attention shifted towards Eliane as if taking notice of her for the first time and with a swift order a pair of sharpshooters shifted position and began to engage the Skaellan markswoman.


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The battle at the King's palace had been a chaotic endeavor that was spread out across the entire compound but this was Arton's first time facing an organized and coordinated force. There was only so much that training could prepare for. Bullets whizzed all around him as he closed the distance, footmen coming at him again and again. Swords slammed into the his thick armor, unable to pierce but hard enough to leave a bruise later. Arton was barely holing his position and seemed to be trading blows more than he was delivering them. The hard truth was that he was the weak link in their party's frontline fighters...and the captain was prepared to exploit it.

Arton's blade cut down his latest attacker, pulling it loose just in time to raise his shield to stop the volley of gunfire...most of it. A single bullet punctured his thigh and at first he hadn't even realized it had happened. He tried to push off the leg but it just wouldn't give him the power he needed. Ice shards peppered Arton's armor, the shield unable to cover him completely from the attack. The blast of ice knocked him off his already weakened leg, rolling a couple times until he ended on his stomach. Blood oozed from his right leg and dripped from his nose but he was not on the ground for long. Arton propped himself up and threw him behind cover close to Eliane just as another volley struck his previous position.

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As the sounds of battle echoed throughout the small town, the door to Izayoi's door slammed open from the inside which slightly cracked the exterior wall with its force. The armored and decorated figure that emerged from the house ducked slightly to avoid hitting their head against the top of the doorframe "Fall in on me!" Their stern voice was somewhat distorted, whether through their helmet or some kind of magic. The Valheimian soldiers not currently engaged with Team Kirin quickly regrouped around the regal-looking figure, taking up a much more organized formation.

A large shield matching their armor was strapped to their right arm, a sword sheathed on the same side, and dual pistols completed the officer's armaments. Their attention seemed to immediately lock on to Izayoi "I am suprised you can still show your face around here, Izayoi of the Wild Wind. It is time to join the rest of your family." The tall figure boasted, raising a hand which triggered the remaining gunners to take aim and ready for a volley while their frontline warriors took up a defensive position around their leaders and the gunners. Her hand lowered quickly and a crackle of gunfire rippled across the line towards Team Kirin.

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Arton had narrowly skirted around Eliane's mention of their homeland that morning, finding the truth harder to speak then he realized.

He spent much of the trip towards Osprey taking in the sights alongside Neve, idly chatting about particular scenery or thoughts that popped in their heads. There came a point when the Izayoi's expressions told him without a word that they were drawing closer to the border and by extension Valheimian held territory. The checkpoint was his first insight into the occupation. If this was how oppressive a simple checkpoint was....he couldn't fathom what life what like under their heel.

Arton had started to say something before he bit his tongue and simply nodded in reply. He could only hope that their luck in remaining unnoticed would continue.

A tightness gripped his chest as they reached the outskirts of the village. This was where it happened. Where Izayoi's suicidal vendetta began after Valheim took everything. The sight brought a visceral understanding to her history. It all proved distracting as he barely noticed the Valheimian soldiers and definitely not fast enough to prevent Izayoi from charging ahead if that was even possible. A spark of the fury that possessed the samurai drifted into him and so he followed suit after Eliane

"Don't worry, I got you covered!" He said with fierce determination, taking up position just behind them.

One of the foot-soldiers that passed by them was immediately met with Arton's blade, which bounced off the soldier's shield. His opponent tried a slice of his open but Arton managed to side-step. He brought his sword slightly back and, with a movement that crudely mimicked Izayoi's form, sliced through the offending arm.

Mentions: @Click This




Arton hovered around the lobby of the lodge, shield on his back, as he waited for the conversation upstairs to get heated. His growing attachment to the samurai had blinded him initially to the feelings of Galahad. It was on trip over to the lodge where he grasped his new friend's perspective. If Izayoi had been responsible for Furi's or his parents' deaths, he doubt he would be able to let it go. It was a shadow cast over his heart and soul. Eventually, he figured since neither had come crashing through the roof that they had come to some kind of understanding. Arton retreated into the room he had claimed for himself, stripping off most of his armor.

What a stressful and confusing day it had been. The Skaellan settled down on a rug in front of the bed with his legs spread out in a butterfly position. It had been ages since he taken the time to stop and meditate. His hand slipped into a pouch inside his pack, retrieving a small bar of metal and a mallet. His master, Cyth, would strike the metal bar softly to focus his mind on the quite chime it produced. Arton had copied the habit and as he began to let the mallet bounce gently on the mental bar, he could feel the tension in his muscles gradually relax.

He had been out of line at the dinner and let his frustration affect others. A factor of himself that he was not yet ready to reveal let alone confront. The rhythmic chime of the metal flowed in an out through his thoughts, keeping himself centered as he processed his emotions. Despite what Cyth said, Arton was not ready to give up on Furi. To return home and assume his mantle of responsibility would be destroy any hope, however slight, of seeing her again. His eyelids slowly began to increase in weight as the chime slowed and slowed. One final strike sounded off in the room as the effort of blinking had stopped being effective in warding off sleep. Arton climbed into bed with a clearer mind and questions still left to answer.

= = = = = = =

Arton had risen a little early that morning and helped Goug prepare their caravan with whatever assistance he needed. The swordsman approached Eliane with a freshly made cup of black coffee as she made her way into the room, holding a cup of his own but with a dash of milk and a pinch of sugar "Mornin'. Hope I didn't get it wrong." He spoke with a faint smile. Arton hoped the small gesture would help ease the distance he had been putting between them since they were assigned to the same team. It would be childish of him to avoid her like the plague the entire journey.


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Arton listened closely to Eliane's response to Lord Caradoc's question, trying to discern if she was being truthful. Fundamental with a side of mischief. It was a intriguing combination and was one more reason to keep his eye one his fellow Skaelan. He was not sure that he would be able to withstand a series of questions if she began to investigate his background. Hearing each one of them unified in their mission was a relief to hear and he could feel the bonds of the party tighten ever so slightly. The retort by Galahad's father stung like a small splash of boiling water on the skin. It hurt for a split-second but it quickly washed over him. This vitriol from Gal's father had him dumbfounded and his fantasy image of a parental figure insulted.

His hunger that he had at the start of the meal extinguished as the conversation between the two Caradocs began to explode. When Galahad expressed reservations about returning home, Arton had figured that there was some sort of tension or bad blood with his family. Nothing could have prepared him for how deeply the cracks in their relationship went. The Skaellan rose from his seat after Galahad, ready to spring into action the moment the situation completely broke down. The intensity in his face broke upon hearing Artorias's accusation and his son's reaction. Truth or not the claws of doubt visibly sank into his friend's mind.

The venom left by the echoes of war ran deep in people's blood. Arton was beginning to understand. He could feel a drop of that venom seeping into his veins and for a brief moment his lips parted as it nearly took control of him. Instead, the earlier conversation with Cyth echoed in his mind.

"Lord Caradoc, did you turn us away at the gate? No, you graciously invited our humble party for a shared meal thanks to the wise counsel of Lady Caradoc." Arton turned briefly to the woman in question "A meal that was most welcome after a long journey." His voice adapted to a refined cadence, shedding his countryside mannerisms.

"The moment we sat down at the same table under your roof we became your guests. I can't begin to imagine the scandal that executing four honored guests would bring upon you. I'm truly worried that your legitimacy would be called into question for the killing of your one and only legitimate heir." He twisted the threat with fabricated concern.

"I must humbly concede that you are right. We have taken enough of your generous hospitality and can now set forth properly on our quest now that we have the prestigious Lord Caradoc's blessing. What a beautiful moment of reconciliation between father and son to spread amongst the people." He straightened himself out and took a breath.

Arton was about to leave it at that, but he felt the urge for a final act of insolence "Oh, and if you would be so kind as to pass the gravy to my friend before we leave."



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"~He could not take from the forest, what was never meant to leave...~" The instruments faded into the background as her voice carried the final note softly into the aether. Applause erupted from the familiar audience as her lips closed and curled into a warm smile. Her light green eyes scanned the crowd and noticed a new batch of Valheimians amidst her regulars. No doubt that they were fresh from their homeland and wanted to visit the only theatre in Osprey that welcome their kind. Excellent. Her current sources were getting cold and it had been sometime since she heard any juicy information form Valheim.

Ciradyl bowed and curtsied to the crowd as the large, velvet curtain closed and she shifted from one mask to another. She mimicked a sigh "That was a wonderful performance...all of you. I will be in my changing room if anyone should need me." One act ends and the next begins. That was how it was under the brutal and watchful eye of their Valheim oppressors. Ciradyl exchanged smiles and small-talk with the other members of her troupe as she entered her personal room. The cheer in her eyes dropped with her smile as she gazed a mirrored version of herself and sat in the cushioned chair. She cast a few glances around the room and listened carefully for disturbances in the silence before she turned back to the countertop.

Her hand slid underneath and hummed gently with magic and was rewarded with a faint click as a secret compartment slide open. A small envelope fell into her hands. Ciradyl gave it a look over before she sliced the colorful string that bound it. Her fingers flicked it open and eyes darted from line to line. The moment she finished the last word she held it over a lit candle and watched it be consumed by flames before letting it fall to ashes in a small, gold tray. The king of Edren was finally making a move against the blight, going as far to recruit any abled man and woman for his naive hope of finding a magical solution to his problem. Ciradyl scoffed as she sat back in her chair, long nails tapping thoughtfully against her chin. This, perhaps, was an opportunity. There was not a doubt in her minds that one of the parties of adventurers would make their way into Osprey. They could hopefully be convinced to lend a hand here and there in exhcange for some information and protection. Forces were beginning to make their moves and Ciradyl was fully intent on staying ahead of it all.

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There was a strong, subconscious pull on Arton's mind towards the idea of a dinner between family and friends. Despite his friendliness, Arton was a loner for the majority of life. There was people that popped briefly into his life but none who had established a strong connection to. He yearned for camaraderie but the potential loss of it kept him at arms length. The power in the differing views of the two Caradocs did not come across as irreconcilable issues but what he saw as familial banter.

"See? No reason to turn down a hearty, warm meal, right?" Arton exclaimed after Gal's mother.


Arton started off the small feast eating as what would be expected of a common adventurer. After a glare from Artorias, Arton seamlessly transitioned to the proper decorum expected of such a dinner. The last impression he wanted to give Gal's parents was that he was some incompetent barbarian. As trays of various seafood arrived, he listened to Artorias's inquiry and Izayoi's reply. It was equal parts fascinating and terrifying to hear how personal their rivalry and animosity went.

"I have seen how the Blight has ravaged the war-torn outer territories of the kingdom. Arton took a short sip of his drink "Each week was tougher than the last. It was clear that nothing I did was going to stop it. Striking out on this quest, I believe, will save more people that I could on my own." It was wistful, naive thinking to believe that everything would go smoothly and all work out in the end, but he had to believe it "Hopefully, we'll find the answers as to why Valheim invaded just as the Blight dugs its claws in." His answer was not the whole truth of it. Arton wanted his life to mean something in the end, perhaps a bit too willing to sacrifice his life for an end to this calamity.



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