[h1][b][center][color=00a99d]D A V O R   D E L ' T R E U S E[/color][/center][/b][/h1][hr]
"All aboard!" was what the captain said, about an hour ago. Aboard the shining white vessel, a small militia from Cesadas, with the intent of observation, border defense, and foreign aid. The storm was brewing; big troubles across the Thanatian Sea, and the aid sent by Myre as a sign of goodwill and self-defense, as the document stated. A pirate war, inferred to cause large scale difficulties in the long run for any countries affected, if not quelled immediately. Davor stood on his balcony, reading the document over and over. The war council spoke among themselves, full of ideas on what they may be facing, and disgruntled opinions of the people of Estala.

Davor loomed over the waters they were cutting through. [color=00a99d]"Estala, huh? Aren't we at a rough spot with these guys? Pig on a stick, we fought a war with them for a long time. What the heck are we doing here?"[/color] he asked out loud, eyes gliding through the text one more time. An officer shuffled up to Davor. [color=00746b]"I mean, yeah, it's pretty rough, but who are we to decide? Pirate war's eventually gon' creep up to us, and we'd be too late by then to stop it. Chancellor's just makin' sure we ain't gettin' to that point,"[/color] he coughed, as he leaned on the railing. The two gazed out to the sea, to the horizon behind it. [i][color=00a99d]'A fair point,'[/color][/i] Davor thought. He sighed, and stretched out his joints. [i][color=00a99d]'Oh well. Family business has ties here, I guess I've got my own reasons. Besides. People are people! There's a whole variety of them, it's not like being Estalan is their sole trait, after all. Maybe we'll be fine!'[/color][/i] He continued to pace the meeting room, absent-mindedly scanning the paper, again, again...

[b]"LAND HO!"[/b] yelled the captain. The boat slowed its gait as it approached the dock of Port Sesta, the Port City of Estala. The crew and passengers readied their gear for departure. Davor sat in his room, awaiting the signal to leave, spending the time maintaining his bow, and keeping account for all his gear: armor, documents, his vulnerary, and of course, his bow and arrows. [i][color=00a99d]'Alrighty. Just a new town, is all. We've got this. I've got this.'[/color][/i] With a triumphant swing of the door, he gazed at all the faces of his comrades. They've made it. [color=00a99d]"Alright, boys,"[/color] he exclaimed, [color=00a99d]"...Here we go."[/color]

The group stepped off of the boat. Immediately, they noticed just how bright the sun would glean off of their armor. Many folks stood guarded, as their squad [i]certainly[/i] stood out from the rest of the crowd. Soon enough, their horses were brought to them: lithe, black steeds, armor polished, regalia shined. Davor mounted his own steed, and stared at the cautious faces of the town. No words seemed to come out from his mouth. For the first time in a long time, Davor had nothing to say to the crowds.

It was there he noticed. Many a man, many a beast. [i]Laguz, roaming the streets.[/i] Their bestial forms, mingling freely with the folks, a sight not seen (nor particularly welcomed) from almost anywhere else in the world, especially not in Myre. His movements were slow as he turned to face the rest of the crew, obviously uncomfortable by the same sight. They've all fought at The Shield before. They know just how dangerous these people can be.

[color=00a99d]"...Onward."[/color]