[b][u]Brakor City of Heimyal[/u][/b] [img]https://www.candb.com/site/candb/cache/artwork/1600/wild-hunt-port_witcher3_cdprojekt_1600x774_marked.jpg[/img] The Docks of the Port-City of Heimyal were bustling and ablaze with life as hundreds of warriors, ranging from Grogar, Drimor and Humans, all cluttered enmass as they prepared for their long-delayed incursion into Ardir territory, much to the ire of their now impatient warmaster. The Warmaster stood in the center of it all, behind him was his flagship, the banners of Clan Brakor flying proudly atop of the vessel as the gust of wind pushed against it. Flanking him on his right was his trusted lieutenant, Urlild, a Grogar of average build, but was visibly the eldest of the duo, half-blind, wrinkled skin. Atop his scalp was an old nasty scar from a previous battle long ago, two small pieces of iron keeping the wound whole. "Alright ya layabout bastards!" The tall and imposing Warmaster Asgorgh Gormk bellowed out. "I want this warband in tip top shape! Those fancy ardir flowers ain't gonna wait on us!" Select warriors among the crowd cheered and roared back, their thirst for battle growing with each hour. The past few days had been a headache for the Warmaster, fierce storms dominating the coast like no other, even he was not bold or mad enough to brave through such monster weather. And so, his warband was forced to wait out until the storm finally passed and when it finally did pass, time was of the essence. "Warchief ain't going to be too pleased with this..." He said to Urlid, tilting his head slightly over to the old grogar, he was met with a light chuckle from him. "Oh, I wouldn't say that..." Urlid replied, motioning towards a particularly noticeable young couple in front of the inn across the crowds. "Ahhh..." was all Asgorgh could muster. The Warchief's only daughter had requested to join on this recent raid, much to her father's paranoid apprehension, of course, she would not go alone, her betrothed, Farald, would follow closely behind, keeping the love of his life safe. "Heh, Not sure if he's too happy with the boy either." The Warmaster joked, giving a wide, toothy smile. "Regardless, she needs the experience." Urlid said, biting onto an apple he held on to. "I was her and farald's age in my first raid, and it just was...exhilarating." Urlid's wrinkled face brightened up as he reminisced his youth. On the other side of the crowds, Farald and Elina prepared for their departure, Farald handing over a small sack of coins to the dock Innkeep, before stepping out of the Inn. Elia waved goodbye to the rather polite innkeep, followed by mounting her shield atop her back, and unsheathed her sword as he made a small inspection of the weapon. Farald returned by her side, and took notice of the expression of uneasiness on her face. "Nervous?" He said, placing his hand over her shoulder. "Oh..farald." Elina spoke sheepishly, her eyes shifting back and forth. "...Yes." she admitted. "I admit..I wanted this, it took all my might to convince my father...yet." "I know, but know I will never leave your side." Farald reassured his love. "After all, we are to be married and..my life is at stake." The last bit was but a jest on Farald's part, Elina chuckled. "That is a good point!" She jested as well. For a brief few moments, they looked at one another with kind eyes and soon embraced one another, a number of fellow warriors rolling their eyes at such a sight, often and appropriately giving the moniker of "lovebirds". Regardless of their approval or disapproval, the two were passionate for one another, developing from small childhood crushes to the here and now of their relationship. Their embrace cut short from the Warmaster's beastly roars as he grew more and more agitated with the delay. "We best get moving. "Elina said with a warm smile. "Agreed." The two follow a group of warriors as they're about to board one of the larger vessels of the fleet, before something strange had occurred. No one knows who first alerted the docks of the incoming Emerald ships, but nonetheless, small flotilla of ships hailing from the Emerald Empire were on fast approach to the docks, taking several empty spots to the left of the warband's staging point, their arrival possibly delaying the raid even further, no doubting irking the shit out of the Warmaster. "By the Forge Mother! What now?!?" -------- A few days passed since their faithful encounter with the Yeti, Firgus, Olaf and their guard companion continuing their journey back the the city gates on the horizon. The mood in the air was a peaceful one as they traversed though the serene landscape of Tarkima, a rather ironic thing to say considering the people of the land, yet despite this, there was beauty to be found in the "warmer" seasons in Tarkima. The two aged men sat in the back of the carriage with the fresh kill, the lone guard responsible for directing the yak pulling the cart to Heimyal. The two friends causally converse, as they near the city, shouldn't be long now before they're finally home. "I think these old bones deserve some much needed rest." Olaf said. "I'm with you on that my good friend." Firgus said in agreement. "A good rest, then we feast!" The cart slowly came to a still as the gates slowly opened, finally, they were home. Their return was met with a few waves from clansmen, children flanking the sides of the cart as they raced along the yak. The cart was passing by the docks, firgus wondered if the warband had left yet, he turned to face the small alley ways that led to the docks, only to be met with large crowds. "What?" He asked himself, confused, the warband hasn't even left, while of part of him is relieved, another part ponders why they still haven't left, this called for investigating. "Stop for now." He ordered the guard. Without question, the guard pulled on the yak as it came to a slow stop, Firgus jumping off the cart and headed for the docks, Olaf not far behind.