[center][h2]Keregar[/h2]Warlord of Kereg-Kor, Husband of Xaelia[sub][@Ellion][/sub] and Nadia[sub][@Vesuvius00][/sub]
[b]Interacting with:[/b] Xaelia[sub][@Ellion][/sub] and Nadia[sub][@Vesuvius00][/sub][/center][hr]He first let both of his Gems finish each their introduction. Xaelia’s remarks were not well received. It was a glorious thing to do. The suffering of those Gems were their own doing, their King’s doing. He could not fight a war and paid the price. The Anathos’ price would have been dead. Yet here was a Gem insulting the legacy. His father had warned Keregar this would happen. The Gems, their short lives made them forgetful. He knew there was arrogance in Xaelia’s voice. A sense of superiority despite standing here as a bride. It had to be broken. With his left hand, his slapped her across the cheek. His iron ring cutting right below her eye. Before she could do anything he grabbed her by cheeks and pulled her closer as his face came closer to hers. Dangerously close. Close enough to force his lips on hers if he wanted to. He didn’t though. At the last moment, he turned her face slightly. His tongue just slightly liked a drop of blood spilling from the wound. He kept her face in that position for a moment as he rolled the blood through his mouth. Then he turned her face back to his. [b]“You’re not in Gemina anymore.”[/b] He said before releasing her and pulling himself up again. [b]“You’re in Drakka. I won’t tolerate insults like that again.”[/b] She better learned what actual glory and honor was.

Then he turned to Nadia. A seamstress? He had no use for that. He gave her another look. She could be a lot more with a lot less. [b]“The dress. Take it off.”[/b] He simply said. His voice icy cold. Yet his eyes made clear that he wasn’t going to say it a second time. Especially when he moved his left hand towards the hilt of his knife. Either she took it off or he’d cut it off. Of course, he didn’t care what she wore underneath. [b]“There is only one place for dresses at Kereg-Kor. And that place you Gems will have to learn to like.”[/b] Sorrak’s Sanctuary loaned itself well to silk and certain clothes. But beyond those doors, the wilderness beckoned. It even crept within the black stone walls of Kereg-Kor. No, dresses would not serve them and it would not serve him either. He knew that Nadia, with her love for the quietness of nature, would foolishly love the wilderness around Kereg-Kor. Maybe, to teach her a lesson, he should set his wolves on her on some quiet moment. Nature should be feared above all. [b]“I hope you’re more entertaining when Sorrak demands his tribute.”[/b] He said towards Nadia. Xaelia at least dared to insult him. If she even knew she insulted him. Nadia was a meek thing. Too afraid and far too docile. He reached slowly for her, though his hand passed her face and loosened whatever kept the bun together. [b]“Hair, at least, should be wild.”[/b] He finished.

By now he would normally order his group to leave for his estate. There they’d pack so they could start marching for Kereg-Kor in two days. Though then Rynek entered, demanding his bride. Keregar took the large sword, still wrapped in torn, blood-specked cloth and open it up with his knife. Revealing a weathered but still sharp blade. The slightly chipped edge made clear that this blade was old, very old. He lowered the weapon next to him, in front of his brides. Putting it between them and the intruder. He would kill anyone who dared to take his Brides without his permission. Deep inside he wished the fool would dare it though. He could use some bloodshed. Especially if it was to be the blood of such an arrogant cub. Though it appeared that the Princess was already handling the situation. Two companions moved from the shadows into the light towards Keregar. [b]“We’re leaving.”[/b] He calmly said. Suddenly not caring if Nadia did what he demanded or not. The two companions led the Brides away. Not even stopping as they marched them into the rain, ushering them on towards the Estate. Keregar stayed behind for a moment. Covering their retreat.

At home, they were led into the rather bare living. The few decorations hanging on the walls were of blunted weapons and shields. The two companions vanished and from around a corner a Drakkan appeared. Even though still a very young for a Drakkan, he was still a little bit bigger than they were. He was drenched like a rat and dressed in hard-boiled leather. The young Drakkan had a great many bruises all over his arms and one of his legs. [b]“Are you two my new mothers?”[/b] he asked surprisingly innocent for a Drakkan.