[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/9SpAqdN.png[/img] [b][h3]R I G E V A N D[/h3][/b] [b] Interacting with Svend, Queen Astrid, Inga, and Snorri [@Force and Fury][/b] [/center] [hr] [i]What an odd turn my life has taken. I thought, at first, that slipping into Eskand on behalf of the king would be no different than any other mission I have taken, but I was wrong. This is one of the strangest endeavors I have ever agreed to complete, and though I am young, that’s still worth something. I have stolen into many a keep and castle, both in Parrence and in our nearest neighbors. My life has, for the most part, been solitary. There were friends in my youngest years, before the nuns gave me to the Black order, and after, I had my teachers. In the half-decade since I began to take contracts in earnest, I have had fewer connections still— bright, lightning touches that go as fast as they arrive. The weeks spent with the army were welcome, but this is something entirely different. How is a party of two dozen foreigners supposed to be stealthy? Our mere existence attracts far too much attention, and while I have been silent in front of my companions, I am afraid of what might happen should we be noticed by the wrong people. I think I will feel better tomorrow. Svend’s is a good plan, and while I will live closer to our enemies in the coming days, I will rest easier alone than in this group. I trust myself more than these strangers, Echeran bless them, even though they are faithful Quentists all. This journal won’t be following me, of course. It is proof positive of my true purpose. If I don’t make it home, perhaps one of the others will survive long enough to pass this off to a Rezaindian convent. Or better yet, a Parrench loyalist who likes a strange tale and has an eye for ciphers. Echeran keep me and all the other fools.[/i] [b]“Osanna, girl, are you coming?”[/b] Osanna looked up from her journal and tossed it carelessly on the top of the pile of things that wouldn’t follow her into the capital of Eskand. It was morning still, the wan light barely penetrating the Parrench cave base. She stretched and pulled on her cloak, leaving her sheathed sword on the ground behind her. [color=000000][b]“You’d better get used to calling me Ositha now. Wouldn’t want to mess up before the Queen.”[/b][/color] [hr] [b]“I take no enjoyment in this pageantry,”[/b] Queen Astrid assured Jarl Bjørn of Alsfard, [b]“but these little medallions mean much to the Quentists and one cannot be too careful these days.”[/b] [b]“Yes, of course,”[/b] he replied easily, though one very close to him might sense the tenseness in his bearing. [b]“Your majesty is wise to take such precautions. Our enemy is insidious, and his false gods are wicked.”[/b] Svend - for that was his name in truth - had not yet stepped on the symbol of his faith, much as he had sneered at it. To do so was the act of an apostate. [b]“Step on it,”[/b] commanded Princess Inga, high-handedly. [b]“Spit on it and step on it.”[/b] Her squeaky, girlish voice was even and distant, with properly royal airs, but it could not help but betray a hint of dark amusement. [b]“Truly, to cast doubt upon a Jarl who offers you a tribute in metals, a servant girl-”[/b] he gestured in Osanna’s direction [b]“-and three knarrs filled with warriors for the glory of Father, Mother, Sister, Brother, and Visitor.”[/b] He scowled. [b]“This is more, even, than unnecessary.”[/b] Astrid shifted on her throne, then, somewhat intrigued for the first time. [b]“No aspersions have been cast as to your loyalty, Jarl Alsfard. Please, do as my daughter requests before we continue.”[/b] For a moment, Svend’s hand rested on the pommel of his sword, and one close enough may have been able to see the tightening of the muscles in the arm and shoulder attached to it. Then, he stepped forward nonchalantly and horked up a wad of spit. He let it fall onto the sacred hourglass of the Pentad. With an unbothered look, he stepped on his handiwork, adding a little twist in at the end and meeting the Queen’s eyes.[b] “Now, may we talk business?”[/b] [b]“But of course,”[/b] replied the Queen, rising and stepping down to clasp his right hand between the both of hers. Her eyes passed briefly over Osanna. [b]“Will this one be accompanying us?”[/b] she inquired. Svend shook his head. [b]“Ositha?”[/b] he remarked. [b]“Only if your majesty wishes. This poor girl is yours to do with what you see fit, as a token of my loyalty and regard. She is Drudgunzean - Lindermen, I believe. One of my men rescued her from that vile place when they threatened her with death for keeping the true gods.”[/b] He shook his head. [b]“She proved herself useful: an able cook and cleaner, particularly good with the older children, but I have too many servant girls already and too many men with wandering eyes.”[/b] He paused and met the Queen’s, something passing between them. [b]“Besides, I am preparing to take my entire household with me to Parrence anyhow, for when we claim it. Don’t need more mouths to feed. I swear she is useful, though. I’d not insult your majesty with less.”[/b] [b]“I see,”[/b] replied Astrid, looking ‘Ositha’ over once more. [b]“Girl,”[/b] she said, [b]“Do you speak our tongue?” [/b] [color=000000][b]“Yes, your majesty,”[/b][/color] Osanna said in poorer Eskandr than Svend had heard her use before— stumbling, perhaps, to hide her Parrench accent. [color=000000][b]“I understand you.”[/b][/color] The moment that the Black Rezaindian had replied, however, Inga piped up, for Snorri had mostly been bored, fiddling with his chess set in a corner, playing against himself and stealing the occasional keen glance the way of the others. [b]“Mother,”[/b] the girl said, [b]“should not she [i]also[/i] complete the ritual if she is to be ours?”[/b] Before the Queen could agree with her daughter, Osanna stomped over the symbol. She hawked a wad of spit and scuffed the heels of her boots on the hourglass that represented everything she’d dedicated her life to. Svend thought she looked like she was enjoying herself. [b]“That will do,”[/b] the Queen said dryly, and Osanna bowed again, standing behind Svend with due servitude. [b]"You must really hate them,"[/b] sympathized Inga, trying to keep the slight skip from her step as she came up beside her mother. [b]"For what they did to you."[/b] She shook her head. [b]"I bet you wanted to—"[/b] She was cut off abruptly as her mother clapped a hand shut. With a slightly resentful glance the Queen's way, Inga curtsied and forced a smile. [b]"I would've killed them,"[/b] she murmured under her breath, prompting a sharp look. [b]"The fires of youth are not easily quenched," [/b]observed Svend, for want of something more meaningful to say, but he pivoted quickly. [b]"And so it is with my men, your majesty. Many are young. They were kept back from the first wave by doting mothers and grandfathers. They are eager to win glory for their names and for our people." [/b] [b]"Yes," [/b]Astrid replied, [b]"yes, I imagine they are."[/b] Her smile was very much like her daughter's. [b]"This is, of course, a matter that we should speak of."[/b] She brought her hands together twice in a clap. [b]"Inga,"[/b] she called and, then, craning her neck, [b]"Snorri!"[/b] The girl stood at attention; fear of Mother drummed into her. The boy made one last move on the chessboard and stood as well. [b]"Yes, mother?"[/b] [b][b]"Please show our new servant to the servants' quarters. Find an unused room for her and have the maids clean it." [/b][/b]She turned to Svend. [b]"Jarl Alsfard, what did you say were her skills again? I cannot recall."[/b] [b]"She is capable of anything you ask, my lady, but she was the children’s tutor in Avincian, Parrench, and some basic arithmetic. They were very fond of her."[/b] Astrid switched to fluent Avincian without warning. [b]“Ubi discis has linguas loqui?”[/b] She directed the question at Osanna, and Svend blinked, trying to hide his alarm at being left out of the conversation. [color=000000][b]“Parentes mei mercatores fuerunt, Majestas Tua. Negotiaverunt Yasoi inter alios.” [/b][/color] [b]“Ils devaient être des gens intéressants,”[/b] replied the queen, switching seamlessly to Parrench. [b]“Peut-être vous révélerez-vous aussi intéressant qu'eux.”[/b] Osanna’s shoulders slumped, and she allowed herself to stumble over the words. [color=000000][b]“J'espère que je serai à la hauteur, Votre Majesté. Mais j'aurais préféré les garder ici plus longtemps.”[/b][/color] [b]“But of course,”[/b] replied Astrid, smiling in commiseration. [b]“It is something that we all wish, but it is not our job to know the gods. We merely join the Visitor when he calls us to his table. Someday, we shall all be there and reunited with those that made the journey before. For now,”[/b] she concluded, changing pace and tone, [b]“I bid you follow Inga and Snorri. They may or may not lead you to some interesting places.”[/b] She finished with the hint of a cheeky smile. Osanna bowed again and followed after them. Svend felt a twinge of unease as his ally disappeared into the bowels of the keep, but then the Queen turned her attention back to him, and he gathered himself to speak. [hr] Osanna followed the two royal children deeper into the Hall of Kings, her eyes on the tapestries lining the halls. They were all made of wool, many brightly dyed in rich reds, greens, and purples, though the oldest had faded. The subject was unerringly of war. Men and women raised weapons above their heads, their mouths open to scream war cries. Some called lightning to their grasp while others stood atop mounds of broken bodies. What would it be like, she wondered, to grow up beneath the eyes of these figures? Would it be harder than dreaming of the Red Sisters or Parrench Knights? Inga was certainly bloodthirsty enough, though Snorri was harder to judge. Maybe they all felt the weight of their people’s giants. [color=000000][b]“Are these your Æresvaktr?”[/b][/color] she asked the children. [b]“Yes!”[/b] squealed Inga eagerly. [b]“Well, some of them anyways. They have been around since the days of Fradje Ironshaper, you know.”[/b] The girl skipped ahead. [b]“This one was Brynhild of the Mountain!”[/b] she exclaimed. [b]“She was a princess like I am, but of a much smaller kingdom: Sturmreef. When the sea people ravaged it, she took her people that remained and brought them to Meldheim. There, she married the king and began a great dynasty, but she did not forget the blood that they owed her, and she returned, many years later, with a great army and ten legendary warriors in particular, and crushed the sea people.”[/b] Inga’s eyes glowed reverently. [b]“Thus, our dynasty was founded, Sturmreef was joined as an under-kingdom, and our oldest enemies crushed. They have never risen up since.” [/b] Snorri, for his part, was quiet. While his sister regaled the new adult with sagas, he all-but rolled his eyes, careful to do so when Inga wasn’t looking. Osanna cocked her head, watching them both. Inga was an easy mark— it did not take a sage to know the duties of a princess in any kingdom, and she seemed more interested in battle than suitors. Osanna thought she’d befriend Inga by encouraging her passions, maybe by telling tales of other warrior women. She could teach the girl a little bit of fighting, but that likely wouldn’t ingratiate her with the Queen. Just stories for now then, and if Inga asked, she’d show her how to hold a knife. Even the daughter of a merchant clan might know that much. As for the boy… well [i]he[/i] certainly wasn’t as enthralled by the heroes as his sister. She’d need a different approach, but perhaps not while his sister might overhear. He seemed to keep his thoughts to himself. [color=000000][b]“Is Brynhild of the Mountain your favorite story?”[/b][/color] They turned down a dimmer, less decorated hallway— the way to the servant’s quarters, Osanna assumed. She updated her growing mental map of the Hall of Kings accordingly. [color=000000][b]“Or are there many brave princesses in your history?”[/b][/color] [b]“She is so grand because she is the first, and many are her exploits,”[/b] exclaimed Inga, eager to share. [b]“But she was more than just a warrior. Father says that anybody who excels in life must be more than just one thing.”[/b] Snorri perked up and interjected with something almost like interest. [b]“The wearing of many hats, it is called.” [/b] [b]“Yes, yes that,”[/b] replied Inga, one part thankful and two dismissive. [b]“She was victorious not only in battle but in marriage as well and at the negotiation table. Those victories are less glorious, perhaps, but every bit as important.”[/b] She paused. [b]“That’s what father and mother both say.” [/b] [b]“Which father and mother?”[/b] inquired Snorri, tilting his head, a glimmer of mischief in his eyes. [b]“Ours, or the Gods?”[/b] [color=000000][b]“Oughtn’t it be both? Father tells us to be dutiful, and Mother loves homebuilders. And, of course, your parents wish for a strong kingdom for you and your descendants.”[/b][/color] Snorri grinned, somewhat ruefully, but with a hidden eagerness, like he’d found a new playmate. [b]“See, Snorri, she just handled one of your ‘clever’ questions,”[/b] crowed Inga. They were a good ways down the hall now, and the children stopped to ask an older maid where the free rooms were. Surprisingly casual around the royals, she directed them to a couple near the end of the hallway and offered to lead them there. [b]“That won’t be necessary,”[/b] Inga replied. [b]“I’m certain you have much else to attend to.”[/b] So it was that they showed ‘Ositha’ to her room. Inga seemed much occupied with getting her settled in. She commanded Snorri to ‘wait aside’ as this was ‘a woman’s room’. His expression could best be described as long-suffering, and he kicked at a ball of lint on the floor idly, brow furrowed after a few moments, as it often seemed to be. [b]“I suspect we’ll be seeing more of you,”[/b] he said after a few moments had passed, and Inga was busy complaining about the state of the cobwebs in the rafters and batting at them with her nascent Force magic. [b]“Mother probably has it in mind that you’re to tutor us in Parrench and Avincian.”[/b] Inga’s face screwed up in a sneer. [b]“Why should we have to learn that vile tongue?”[/b] she growled. [b]“I do not understand it.”[/b] Snorri looked like he had more to say, but he shrugged. [b]“If mother commands it, we do it.”[/b] Osanna glanced between them. [color=000000][b]“It can only aid you to know your enemies. We think and speak and act through language. Knowing how they use it can teach you something of what they are.”[/b][/color] [b]“Yes,”[/b] huffed Inga, her face perfunctorily pensive for a second, [b]“I suppose so. Anyhow…”[/b] she gave Osanna her attention more fully and, with a slight inclination of her head, started moving. [b]“I have much to attend to. Be well here. I look forward to meeting again soon.”[/b] She paused in the doorway. [b]“Come, Snorri.”[/b] The boy, however, was staring up at the rafters, where shafts of golden light filtered through a couple of drafty windows and dust sparkled in their grasp. He only twisted briefly to glance his sister’s way. [b]“I think I shall remain for a bit so that I may learn some before our lessons.”[/b] Inga rolled her eyes and was gone. For a moment, Snorri was more or less still, but then he was a nine-year-old for once, scampering over to a small step-ladder and hopping up on it. [b]“So,”[/b] he chirped, perched there. [b]“Tell me all you know of Parrence.”[/b] He was curious, grinning in anticipation. [b]“You have been there, correct?”[/b] He held up a hand to forestall anything. [b]“And their gods, what do you know of them? Why do they believe in false gods so forcefully?” [/b]The boy lowered his hand and blinked, waiting for an answer. [color=000000][b]“I’ve been there,”[/b][/color] Osanna said, and to give herself time to think, she looked around the room. It was a simple space, furnished with a bed, stool, chamberpot, and chest. A small table opposite the bed held a wash basin, but no pitcher— they hadn’t been expecting her after all. She opened the chest and began to shake out bed clothes to make the bed, her mind whirling. It would be easy to accidentally give too much information. Osanna knew Parrence more than most people who lived there, thanks to years of work in many of its cities and holdings. If she failed in her mission, she didn’t want to leave the young royal with too much information on her people, and even more than that, she did not want to give herself away. A merchant’s daughter would only know so much. [color=000000][b]“I know that their land is lush and warm,”[/b][/color]she said. [color=000000][b]“Acres and acres of it are full of crops—wheat and barley and vegetables. What livestock I saw was fat and the city of Solenne was stuffed with people who had money to spend. As for their gods, I don’t know. We all believe in gods, don’t we? Even the Yasoi. I think, perhaps, the Parrench’s wealth has given them the idea that they are more blessed than the rest of us and can so take what they please.”[/b][/color] [b]“In truth,”[/b] admitted Snorri, [b]“I am somewhat intrigued by their gods - to study, of course, as one might study an enemy to learn his weaknesses. It is truly ten that they have, but they make as if the ten are five.”[/b] Osanna scrunched up her nose as though she did not know that much about them, and did not particularly want to know more. [color=000000][b]“How do you mean?”[/b][/color] [b]“Oh, nothing,”[/b] replied Snorri, hopping down from his perch. [b]“I just feel like their whole way of doing things is based on lying really convincingly. Father says that’s a skill too: one that Eskandr aren’t very good at.” [/b] [color=000000][b]“I’d like to hear—”[/b][/color] Osanna breathed in sharply at the sudden invisible pinch behind her ear, worry coiling in her gut like poison. She had not experienced one of Maud’s summons before, though she had been warned ahead of time of what the sensation might be like. Something was happening to the others back in the fishing village below, and the words she’d written in her journal that morning came rushing back to her with no small amount of anxiety. Of course, Osanna could not leave her position. To do so now would only risk Svend and everything they had planned. She would continue as though nothing had changed for now, and try to take some comfort in knowing that so long as Queen Astrid believed their ruse, she was safe. It did not, in truth, make her feel any better. There was so much at stake here, and not least among them were the lives of Osanna’s allies. Echeran would take them when he pleased, this much she knew and accepted, but she hoped that time had not yet come. Osanna looked down to see Snorri’s eyes upon her, and she gave him a secret sort of smile like they were co-conspirators—two quiet, thoughtful people in a big loud world. He smiled back almost reflexively but tilted his head quizzically after a moment. [b]“Are you alright?”[/b] he inquired. [b]“You started just now.” [/b] [color=000000][b]“I’m fine. It must have been a draft.”[/b][/color] She dusted off the front of her borrowed dress and hung her cloak on a hook placed near the door, likely for that purpose. [color=000000][b]“I’d like to hear your thoughts on those liars, but let me get settled in first. I’m sure I’ll see you soon for lessons.”[/b][/color] Snorri seemed to have a bit of antsy energy now, as one might expect from a child his age. He rocked back and forth from the balls of his feet to the heels. [b]“It is a bit drafty in here,” [/b] he replied noncommittally. [b]“I suppose I should let you see to that.”[/b] He scowled thoughtfully for a moment, but it evaporated, and he managed a final smile. [b]“I look forward to our lessons.”[/b] With little else in the way of formality or pleasantries, he scampered out of the room, remembering to close the door behind himself. After he left, Osanna took a breath to settle herself and rebraided her hair back from her face so she’d look neat and clean. She was a servant in a new household, after all, and it wouldn’t do to make a bad impression with the rest of the help. There was plenty to learn from gossiping maids. [Hider=In short…] Osanna and Svend go to the Hall of Kings, where Svend gives Osanna to the royal family as a servant named Ositha, along with “a tribute in metals and three knarrs filled with warriors for the glory of Father.” Once in, “Ositha” begins to slip into her role as a language tutor by befriending the royal children. [/hider]