[centre][color=sienna][h2]Rynek Darion[/h2]
[sub]Jazzing this place up, one princess at a time[/sub][/color]
[/centre]

Rynek, on reflection, was quite pleased with his entrance. It garnered enough attention and he looked very cool, so a win-win really. What he was not pleased with, however, was when some girl decided that she was the great champion he was going to face. He wanted something a bit bigger, in all honesty. But he supposed she did as well.

“[color=f49ac2]A bold move on your part, storming into the royal palace uninvited not to mention your butchery of our employed citizens on your way in. I’m sorry to say that you’ve missed your opportunity to brawl, however, today’s tournament forbade the killing of opponents anyhow. Perhaps we’ll see you in the Pits tomorrow?[/color]” He frowned, turning to his men. One of them gave him a shrug.

[color=sienna]"You paid those guys? You guys could really do with like some sort of inspection, that was a bit too easy."[/color] He scratched his chin as she girl decided to continue speaking. He was starting to remember why he had the last woman's tongue cut out.

“[color=f49ac2]If it were not such a festive occasion, your current actions would be considered that of a hostile threat. I’m sure we can overlook this mishap in judgement and excuse it as overzealous excitement though. Tell me, warrior, what name are you known by? And what business do you have interrupting a mostly concluded Reaping?[/color]” He looked around once more, this time at the other Drakkan gathered in the room. The one closest to him was treated to a confused look before a solitary nod before the Princess. 

Money passed hands between the dogs as they made quiet bets. Smiley, a bitter and cynical bastard, was close enough for Rynek to hear. [b]"He's gonna try and flirt and she's gonna grind him to a pulp."[/b] Rynek growled and puffed up his chest. Since when did he flirt?

[color=sienna]"Is this not Drakka? Since when was killing forbidden? And anyways, they did [i]technically[/i] fall on my spear. You are welcome to try it sometime."[/color] He gave her the eyebrows for good measure. A collective groan went up behind him. Grinning, he threw his spear to Smiley and advanced, weaponless for the most part. [color=sienna]"Did your papa not teach you it is rude to ask a name without providing one? Unless, no one ever needed to ask your name. Pair that with the booming voice and incessantly polished horns and I would say you're a rare breed. Queen? Too excitable. Warlord? Too dumb. Princess?"[/color] He smiled with his eyes and stepped closer to her, head twisting in intrigue. He knew he was right, he could just smell it; the royal blood pumping through her veins. His father had loved that blood and now, he couldn't find himself disagreeing. [color=sienna]"Your highness."[/color]

Drawing himself up to his full, albeit stunted height, his friendy demeanour returned. [color=sienna]"I am Rynek Darion, bastard son of Kallab Darion and I demand the right to a bride. By name or by blood. Preferably that bride though."[/color] He pointed his finger off to a girl to the side of him before following that finger and looking at her. Frowning, he turned back. [color=sienna]"Actually not that one."[/color] Turning slightly, he caught a flash of silver amongst the backdrop. It didn't take much more than that. [color=sienna]"That one. I want that one. I'll kill anyone who begs to differ."[/color]

He turned away from her then back to his men and took his spear once more. Pulling away the cloak revealed a simple armour of boiled leather. He wanted a wife and not even the Gods would stand in his way.

[hider=TL;DR]Rynek gets some flirting action on but challenges anyone to a fight for a *completely random silver haired girl*![/hider]

[centre][color=skyblue][h2]Aeila Snowblood[/h2]
[sub]Who even knows what's going on with Aeila?[/sub][/color]
[/centre]

Heat was an unusual thing. From a young age, Aeila found herself being almost entirely incapable of retaining it. For a people that lived in the sharp spine of the world, a child that was could barely tolerate the cold was no Drakkan at all. And yet, everyday her fire would be freshly made, her furs made thick and plenty. She should have been left out to the mountain when she was born, they would say under their breath but they would feed her and serve her nonetheless. And she would sit silent. She learned silence long ago, back to before her father died. He would come to her room in the night with his old hunting knife. She still had nightmares of waking to his blade and those thick dark eyes wanting nothing more than to purge his sin. He could never do it, of course. He was too weak. Eventually even that she got used to but the cold, the cold was something that you could never be overcome. It was always there, always waiting, always wanting.

And yet, it was the heat that bothered her most on her first venture from their mountain fortress. She loved it and hated it at the same time. Loved it because it wasn't the cold and hated it because trying to get a night's sleep had been a near impossibility.

She couldn't sleep anyways so she could hardly blame the heat. Despite her father's decades of protests of showing her to the public, Aeila's brothers had deemed it a better year than any to finally find a use for their runt of a sister. Even if it was to secure a small ally, it would be worthwhile. Plus it would mean not having to deal with her anymore.

And so, it was decreed that Aeila would have her first soirée to the capital. Even though most of the day had been composed of people staring at her, she found it interesting in a terrifying way. The books could never quite aptly describe the capital or the different peoples of Drakka. They were vicious and intriguing and their shows of force in the blood pits were something else. Although she tried to make herself as small as possible beside the hulking mammoths she called her brothers, that didn't stop her looking around and trying to make sense of this world in which she had been violently thrusted into.

When the time came for the reaping, she moved with the herd, following her clan of mountain men. She had a bit more brains than they thought and realised that she was just as much on offer as the poor collection of girls that they had gathered this year. She had read extensively about the reaping but seeing so many Gems first hand was a little heart-breaking if she was honest.

When the time came, her family, for their loyalty got their selected few Gems. Despite their father's death, their loyalty to the crown had not changed and so, they were well-treated. Aeila didn't exchange glances with the girls, instead she kept her eyes low, hoping that any others would be content with what they had. She probably should have realised that content was not a word synonymous with Drakkans.

The addition of a stranger bursting into the great hall was one of the few things that did manage her to raise her gaze, however. This one was not welcome in the room but that did not stop him and after a brief spat with the Princess he revealed himself as someone that caused one too many eyes to turn on them. Darion.

She felt her brows furrow and looked amongst her brothers. They were a tight knit family and the idea of there being another that they hadn't taken in was confusing. But then again, if he was the size of the stranger it would make sense. Slowly the gears turned in Aeila's head and she turned to them. [color=skyblue]"I- I wasn't the only one, was I?"[/color] She almost choked, uncertainty big in her eyes.

[b]"Shut it."[/b] Her eldest brother growled, not wanting to draw any more attention than their already was. His hope was that this stranger would find himself on the pointy end of the Princess' spear.

[hider=TL;DR]Aeila pops into the capital and realises that she may not be the only little runt on the block![/hider]