[hider= Collaboration: Fascination of a wooden sort]

To be honest, Claus was starting to get bored, he helped himself to a drink and took a slight pause while leaning on a table.
There he saw something that stood out.
Claus had seen a few of the nobles with some sort of armour, most carried a dress weapon as well. But none were like this woman he saw now.
The unmistakable march of a soldier, finely fitted full plate armour of intricate design and armed with a.. wooden? greatsword?

Claus was intrigued, not only that women usually weren't the fighting types, but this one seemed to just reek of combat and honestly didn't fit in here at all. Claus just couldn't contain his curiosity, and moved to intercept the woman.

He took a few fast steps dodging a private conversation and a server and managed to get in front, and turned towards her and made a slight bow while addressing her.
-"Milady, would you mind answering a question or two?"

Beatrice halted, her feet shifting into stable footing mid-step, and studied the man before her. He had rushed up and interjected himself before her, and had called her 'milady'- that in itself was more than enough to get a tilt-upwards of the lips from the stoic woman.

"No, ask away chum. Drop the 'milady', the name's Beatrice- I'm hardly a lady. At best I'm a soldier, at worst a knight." She offered, striking her dragon scale covered hand in an offer of a handshake, more or less disregarding his bow with this action and establishing them closer, as if peers and equals.

Claus tilted his head bit, suppressing a surprised expression, then extended his right hand for a handshake.

-"Fair enough... Beatrice." Claus straightened his back and gave a firm handshake. Their gauntleted fists clattering slightly.

-"I am curious, why do you carry a wooden greatsword?" As soon he had finished the question, he found it silly and regret asking it. He also made a stifled groan and looked away momentarily.
Of course she carries a wooden sword, it could be any number of reasons ceremonial or practical. He felt dumb for asking but now the deed was done, not to mention he hadn't even told her his name yet.

The woman's grip was firm, and she gave Claus' hand a solid up-down swing before releasing.

"I carry the wooden sword for many reasons; tis lighter than iron or steel counterparts, and its wood is stoked in fire- making it hard. The core is iron, meaning it won't bend nor break. A metal weapon would make fights far too easy, and this weapon is considerably more versatile due to its lesser weight. I can wield it in a single hand with ease, in a similar manner many others would use a broadsword- but because it is a wooden weapon rather than a bladed one, it will crush armor rather than dull against it." she nods.

"As you can see from its wear, the weapon has carried me through countless battles. Even if the wood all wears away, the iron core will suit for a deadly bludgeoning tool, and I can easily fashion a new wooden blade to it."

She seemed to enjoy the question, and be fine with explaining its purpose.

Claus now truly noticed that this was a soldier at heart. The fear he had had for some witty remark on his manners now completely gone.
-"Interesting reasons. I myself prefer a classic blade, and carry a separate bludgeon, but all to their own i suppose." Claus agreed, and held his chin.

-"You don't strike me as the 'noble' type." Claus was obviously using 'noble' here as a kind of insult.
-"Where do you hail from? Oh, and sorry for my wandering mind. I am Claus Rotstein, captain of the Steel Fist. In charge of keeping you safe here from the bad people." The last part was told with a barely contained grin, betraying his poor joke.

"I come from Alenius, kingdom of Blackwell, land ruled by merit rather than blood. I am Beatrice Blackwell- I suppose to these folks I'm a princess, but my folks started as farmers and mercenaries. In fact, in the civil war us Blackwells cut such a stake through battle and contribution as a mercenary company the old king named us lords and placed us in the old Dragon Lands of Alenius. Dragons are nasty beasts, don't like people being in their land- well neither do us Blackwells."

She allowed herself a grin.

"Blackwells still around- dragons are dead."

She then situated her gaze on Claus once more.

"Keep us safe from the bad people. That's funny." she didn't laugh, but didn't seem to be insincere.

-"Blackwell? House grown from mercenaries? This doesn't happen to be the house of 'the Old man'?" Claus asked curiously

"Just the one- Old Man's my father." she said with a nod, her smile grew tame now- the grin losing its edge. "He hasn't lost his edge in his age- dragons barely slowed him down."

Claus made a small chuckle.
-"Sounds like the camp stories have a degree of truth to them then, needless to say the Old man is a legend to us mercs. Something to aspire to i suppose. Seems even his children are born in armour." Claus kept going, and watched around him.

-"I assume you were busy before i interrupted you with silly questions like these, i will let you return to your duties as a 'lady'." Claus smirked at the last part. Then went on.
-"If you ever are bored of all these fine folk you can visit me and my lads, always fun to speak to soldiers from different lands, hear of stories, regardless if they are true or not." He glanced Beatrice body from bottom to top.

-"In your case i'd guess not overly many stories are blown up for bragging." Claus extended his right hand for another handshake.

Beatrice grinned and took his hand, giving it another firm shake. "Yeah, gotta get back to my sister- who knows what kind of trouble the girl has gotten into since I've been away. I'll be sure to stop by sometime, definitely- hopefully when these negotiations end, it won't put us at the end of each other's swords."

She grinned again.

"Who knows, it might happen. Do remind me to tell you about the time people tried to get me to turn coat during the civil war- that was probably the closest to death I came until the Dragon War. Good memories." she nodded to Claus as a farewell.

-"I'll look forward to hearing that story over a cup of ale." Claus added before letting Beatrice go.

He himself had duties to attend to as well, and as such walked off to check if his men had slacked off in the meantime.
He risked a glance at Beatrice as she left, clearly interesting.

Claus enjoyed being back to Formaroth. Say what you want about the elves, but their women are not to his taste. Too few fingers and far too short, not to mention their nasty mood swings.
But then again that might be his fault, since he never saw those when seeing elves speak to each other.

((Collaboration by; Klomster and Phoenix))
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