The column advanced slowly towards the Shadow Wroth; Zakroti, his grandfather Nastaki, his brother Qeynate and his niece and ward Ayltam, rode dead centre, two by two. The cold air of the mountain bit at their flesh and Ayltam, who was not used to the mountains, was shivering in spite of the thick wolf skin cloak she had wrapped around herself. Immediately behind them rode a man with a cavalry standard flying the Unalim colours and sigil; A red and blue standard divided party per pale with a white Wyvern emblazoned onto it.

Ayltam, ever the enthusiast for architecture, had wanted to see the Shadow Wroth in person and Zakroti obliged, on the condition that she behave herself. She was still very young for a drakken; Indeed, she had just turned 18. Of course, she had been surrounded by death from an early age; It was Zakroti who had killed her parents, after all. But Ayltam had not been old enough to even recognise her parents or know what was going on at the time: she was now old enough to see the reality of the world and the Wroth was a very harsh reality to be shown.

Ahead of the four relatives, eight men clad in plate armour rode in two lines of four, red cloaks flowing down their backs; They were some of the most trusted warriors in Osh Edehame, proven warriors who had been knighted for great deeds and loyalty. Their heights varied between about 6'2 and 6'8 and each of them looked intimidating with heater shields and lances.
Behind rode five men dressed similarly to the knights, however they wore no cloaks and their armour was black. The shortest was 5'10 and the tallest was 6'10 and a half. They were the Blackguard, Zakroti's sworn bodyguards whom presence Nastaki had barely tolerated.

Zakroti himself wore his chain mail and his suit of plate armour over it, though his close helm was sitting in his horses pack and his padded chainmail coif was down, revealing stunted horns poking through his black hair. He was shorter than even Ayltam and so riding alongside his four relatives he appeared very out of place.

They reached the gates, which had been opened by the guards who had seen their banners approaching. Servants came to tend their horses and the four nobles entered.

"Zakroti, Qeynate; Gehdzi jorl wredzi dzi." Nastaki noted, glancing to them both in turn. Th pair nodded in response to their grandfather, who spun on the spot and continued to lead them through the halls.

They proceeded slowly to the so called 'Claiming Chamber'. The room its self was beautiful, clearly based on Gem architecture. The entire room was filled with tall warriors, some of whom had their weapons drawn. Some were engaging in conversation and arguments... and a few fights. Zak glanced over his shoulder to Ayltam, who appeared to be somewhat dumbstruck. 


He dropped back and lent in towards her.

"Ayltam; hilyat numenta, wel. Ta a alahze za an Nor Zyro." Zakroti whispered to her, causing Ayltam to glance towards him with some concern

"Gais?"

"Gehdzi zan grundaze." Zakroti said. Ayltam nodded

"O zan tyr; wredzi zan rof." She replied but despite her words the fear was evident in her voice; She too had heard the stories of the brutality of the Drakken warriors. Zak scanned over the crowd, his eyes coming to rest on a Drakken with particularly long horns sticking out through unkempt blonde hair. A scar that ran down the left side of his face seemed to permanently draw it into a mocking sneer. He stood at around 6'6 and was well built, over his back was slung a bastard sword and he was particularly well built, even for a Drakken. 

Lysander Karstagg, Zakroti recognised him immediately. The two families, Karstagg and Unalim, hated each other. It was an old rivalry, starting with the excessively brutal killing of another Ayltam Unalim some 700 years ago. The Karstaggs were among the worst of the worst; Sometimes, when they captured prisoners, they would release them into the forests and hunt them down for sport. Once they had hunted them down, they would cook them and serve them up at their feasts; This was the fate that had befallen Zakroti's unlucky ancestor who had been little more than a child at the time. The Karstaggs were reviled and their cruelty was known throughout the land.

Out of the corner of his eye, Zakroti saw two of the shorter Gems collapse in a pile on the floor. Judging from their appearances and their linked arms the two were twins, sisters at the very least. The taller one of them, who was still only slightly larger than the other, had apparently attracted the attention of Lugft with her harsh response. Zakroti watched with slight curisoity as Lugft kissed her hands and welcomed her to Drakka. Lugft, however, did not make any such moves to claim the other girl. They would be separated, then; Many Drakken did not wish to start a fight at this time, not when it was so much easier to just take any other girl. He doubted anyone would challenge Lugft for just one short, if pretty, girl in a sea of beautiful faces.

Evidently, Lysander had smelt blood in the water as the scene had unfolded, because he began to storm across the room towards the pair of them, his eyes fixed on the smaller girl. Zakroti grimaced.

"So, the beast has found it's quarry for the next hunt." Qeynate commented from beside him, to which Zakroti nodded in affirmation

"Perhaps he will let her live, though life with Lysander- It'd probably be a mercy to die." Zakroti replied, Qeynate smirked in response but both were quickly cut short by a glance from Nastaki. Ayltam had apparently overheard as well, because she glanced up to Zakroti

"Is that- Lysander Karstagg?" She asked tentatively. He nodded as he watched the Drakken approach his new bride and seize her by the arm, yanking her out of line with a harsh [i]Come here![/i]. Karstagg did not stop when she was out of line but continued to pull her away towards the doorway behind them, saying Gods only know what to the poor girl; Zakroti guessed he was probably trying to frighten her; He grimaced again, but remained motionless. Ayltam piped up again as she took in the abysmal scene "You told me what the Karstaggs do to young girls yourself. You can't just let this happen!"

"It is out of our hands, Ayltam." Zakroti said; Qeynate nodded swiftly in affirmation and cut in

"She's a bride, Ayltam; Most of them will suffer horribly before they die. So it is."

"But it doesn't have to be. She's so small, just look at her!" Ayltam protested; The young girl in question was small indeed, only emphasised by the powerful bulk of muscle that was Lysander dragging her across the Claiming Chamber. "Zak, just look at her." Ayltams voice had become considerably more begging and Zakroti couldn't help but look down to her when she spoke

"Ayltam, what do you want me to do, stop every brute from taking a bride?"

"Just- Stop one. You can't leave that poor girl with the Karstaggs, she's already being torn away from her sister..."

"Ayltam-" Zakroti began, but was cut off by Ayltam

"Zak, please." Zak paused for a moment before sighing heavily and stepping away from his family and towards Karstagg and the unfortunate young girl. Kzaar and Vain, two of his blackguard, followed after him with their hands resting on the hilts of their blades. 

"Karstagg!" He called out as he approached

"-and then, I'm going to-" Lysander paused, turning his attention away from the girl he had been dragging across the room and down towards the short Drakken lord. He paused for a moment before letting out a dark laughter and snarling "What do you want, runt?" 

"I want you to take your hands off that girl. In fact, I don't want you to lay a hand on anyone tonight." Zakroti stated causing the brute to laugh loudly. *You're going to go back to your father empty handed, and if anyone asks why you didn't take a bride you are going to tell them that none of them took your fancy. "

"And if I refuse?" Lysander growled, taking his hand off of the girls arm and approaching the Drakken, towering over him. "Are you going to fight me?"

"If you do not do this, your father will find out about the little escapade you had with that girl last year. I can only imagine his fury." Zakroti said with a thin smile. Lysander seemed stunned for a moment, growling and opening his mouth to question Zakroti further

"You're bluffing-" Lysander began, but was quickly cut off 

"Am I? Her name is Rayana." Zakroti cut in; The two Drakken stared at each other for several seconds, Lysander looked as though he was going to try and beat Zakroti to death with his bare hands. Finally, he turned and stormed off towards the entrance, shoving past one of the servants and sending plates clattering to the floor. 

Zakroti turned towards the young woman and gave her a kindly smile, speaking in a far softer tone than he had towards Lysander "Are you alright? Between your handling from Lysander and and the fall you took, I mean. The circumstances of your being here need not be repeated, I think-" Zakroti trailed off for a moment before continuing " Forgive me, where are my manners; I am Zakroti Unalim, Muth a Varlasmoras. Who do I have the pleasure of meeting?"