Collab between Gold and Sigma. 

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Aberys-Ouroborasia Border
Town of Gryke
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[img]https://i.pinimg.com/originals/d7/49/0d/d7490df158c4bbee79f2fb8029d38848.jpg[/img]
Gryke, one of countless examples of the dreary and mucky atmosphere in Ouroborasia, a stark contrast to their northern neighbors, the Aberysian Principalities. The townspeople of Gryke went about their daily business, trying to survive in their new and harsh reality...but, even in these dark times, a ray of light always finds it's way into the endless darkness, as children run and play amidst in the misery, splashing the puddles forming in pitted sections of the eroding down streets, a charming, if temporary distraction for a few. But that ray of light would shine even brighter today. 

Almost without warning, mostly due to the more hushed reactions, crowds begun to form along the side of the town's streets as armed soldiers begun to march through the wet street, their sudden arrival met with curiosity and enthusiasm, taking notice that these men were not marching under the Imperial banner, no, but of the House of Weshland, another wave of reinforcements from Aberys had finally arrived to aid the Rightful Emperor in the fight against the Eastern Witches. Children put a stop to their games as they looked in awe of the arriving soldiers, at the forefront of the soldiers were a trio mounted on horseback, a lovely, if deadly-looking woman at the front, and flanking her were members of the Gryph Knights. The young woman's features was quite distinguishable for the townspeople, her locks as bright as the rising sun, skin so fair and smooth, and an aura of elegance and authority filling the very air. 

The townspeople continued to stare in awe, one even yelling a stout, "give 'em hell!" As the woman and her troops made way for the town center, she and her knight escort rushed ahead as their steeds sped up, the Town Elder being quick to act as he and his entourage gathered to meet the trio. As they climbed down from the backs of their horses, the soldiers behind continuing their march until they too reached the center. "Company halt!" A grizzled voice cried out as the soldiers froze and stood at attention. 

The Town Elder was a middle aged man of salt and pepper, the previous having passed due to illness just weeks ago, but at a ripe age. He wore a worn look on his face along side the ever present tattoo of a Ouroborasian veteran on his left cheek.

    "We have no more lads to give," he started, voice ironically dry, "the Citizen's Militia marched through just two days ago and took our eager. We have only the weak, old and unfit."

The Young woman chuckled, followed by a friendly grin, the elder mistaking her intentions. "Fear not, citizen." She begun. "We've not come for your men and boys." She paused." But first, introductions are in order. I am Rosella Weshland, Princess of the Weshland Principality and Chosen Champion of Justinian, by order of the Rightfully Elected King and the Round Council, I and my fellow weshlanders have come to lend aid."

"If it's aid you wish to give, then who am I to doubt someone sent by Justinian himself," The elder nodded, trying to match the woman's smile, "I am the town elder, elected by the people. You may call me Bujar."

"A pleasure." She said. "Elder Bujar, I came here to both offer and to request." She first took a deep breath. "The trek to the frontlines will be long and perilous, and we've come as far as the eye can see, my forces require a place of rest." She turned around, waving her hand as if giving a signal, a few men nodded back as they broke formation and disappeared among the ranks of their fellows. Moments later, several large grey beasts, the Umuro, emerged from the masses, hauling large carts filled with food supplies.

"I know much will be asked of your town to tolerate our temporary stay." She said, her tone sympathetic. "So, in return, we offer your town a share of our supplies, I'm sure these dire times makes one suffer from hunger."

"With so many gone, we have room to spare," Bujar agreed. "You may very well stay in exchange for food, but I'm no stranger to war or marches," the elder eyed the soldiers behind Rosella, "I know what kinds of hunger men of war gather and we will have none of it here. There will be no scenes made, and no women or children harassed. We may be weak and few, but we are still Ouroborasians; Justinian guide us." He added a short prayer, whether in deprication or spiritual fervor remained unclear. 

"You have my word." She said, slamming her armored fist against the breast plate." My Officers and I will keep our men in line, the last thing we need is to make enemies of fellow brothers and sisters of Justinian.

"Justinian bless you then!" Bujar clapped his hands together, "as he surely does us." 

It had all come together, Rosella had guaranteed her troops would rest easy for now, ready to make another long march to the frontlines.