[center][h2][color=Lime][b]Ursa[/b][/color][/h2]
[img]https://i.imgur.com/OHirMKl.png[/img]

[@Ambra] [@Poi][/center]
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[indent][color=Silver]Just as she set another foot beyond the boundary of the tavern doorway, Ursa cast a look over her shoulder as one of the establishment's patrons approached. A fancy garb adorned the girl's figure, the little things from her hairstyle to her dramatic strut assuming a regal air. Tilting her head, her cautious eyes scanned the girl, not a weapon nor reason to spot.[/color] [color=Lime][b]"Lovely,"[/b][/color] [color=Silver]the mercenary laid her sword arm aside.[/color] [color=Lime][b]"And how do you intend to fight without a weapon?"[/b][/color]

[color=Silver]It would not have surprised Ursa if the girl was a practitioner of magic; it seemed as if all of the Estalans dabbled in the Gift, one way or another. Magic had not been an oddity to the clans of the Ibion Expanse, herself including, although the elders condemned it as voodoo. Even so, she had always preferred the feel of a hilt between her hands, and the rush of excitement when two swords clashed. To her, it was the heat of melee, the thick of combat where songs and stories wrote themselves. No legends would tell of the ones who cowered from the shield of the front line.

Her free hand rested on her hip as another girl, shorter than the other, volunteered her clerical services. Ursa found her woes multiplied tenfold as a third face sought to involve himself.[/color] [color=Lime][b]"The plan?"[/b][/color] [color=Silver]Ursa drew a heavy sigh, evaluating their gathering as an inconvenience.[/color] [color=Lime][b]"You've got nothing but a bow, the little lady is defenseless,"[/b][/color] [color=Silver]she looked past the archer and the cleric.[/color] [color=Lime][b]"And for all that I know, she will toss that jewelry of hers at those soldiers, pray that they falter and snap their necks, and call that fighting."[/b][/color]

[color=Silver]Another peer down both ends of the alleyway reassured Ursa that the remainder of their assailants were spread elsewhere along Port Sesta.[/color] [color=Lime][b]"I can [i]not[/i] babysit children during a battle,"[/b][/color] [color=Silver]she emphasized.[/color] [color=Lime][b]"Especially if it's those from Anarcas... this is a dangerous situation."[/b][/color][/indent]

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[center][h2][color=DodgerBlue][b]Renvall "Ren" Protego[/b][/color][/h2]
[img]http://i.imgur.com/eouQrUc.png[/img]

[sub][color=DodgerBlue]The Kingsroad — Three minutes from Port Sesta[/color][/sub]

[@LordVoldemort] [@Ambra][/center]
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[indent][color=Silver]As the caravan was steadfast on their approach to Port Sesta, it had become very much apparent that there was a greater stirring that was unfolding within the walls of Port Sesta. Ren's mouth dropped open as he leaned forward, his gauntlets gripping the wood of the wagon tightly as Rhea delivered an onset of the situation.[/color]

[color=DodgerBlue][b]"Anarcas?!"[/b][/color]
[color=DarkOrange][b]"Anarcan ships?"[/b][/color]

[color=Silver]Ren had been very much aware of the ongoing tensions that existed between Estala and Anarcas, but to his knowledge, the crown had not sent an invitation of counsel to the Anarcans for several years. His eyes watched as the displaced began to disperse from around the entrance of Port Sesta, watched as they were running for their lives.[/color] [color=DodgerBlue][b]"Were they warships?! Is there a ram at the front of the vessels?![/b][/color]

Maize raised a hand to silence the questioning company. [color=DarkOrange][b]"Calm down, you two,"[/b][/color] [color=Silver]the knight spoke, turning to Rhea.[/color] [color=DarkOrange][b]"Are you certain?"[/b][/color][/indent]