[color=peru][center][h2]Knight Devout
Captain Stratya Durmand[/h2][/center]
Time:[/color] 10th Ignis, Evening
[color=peru]Location:[/color] Castle Ballroom - Starry Night Ball
[color=peru]Attire:[/color] [url=https://i.imgur.com/EmYn6ku.png]Military Dress[/url]
[color=peru]Accent:[/color] Thick Scottish
[color=peru]Interactions:[/color] [@Redking0380] Fareed
[color=peru]Mentions:[/color] Emil, Askel

Drunk? Yes. Sloshed? No. Stratya could hold her liquor quite well, better than most men. Perhaps it [i]was[/i] time to slow down, though.

The way this man looked her over was more appraising than interested. His eyes caught here or there, not on herself but on her wardrobe. Had her last complement been of pity? This man’s eyes highlighted everywhere her wardrobe failed, it was rather disquieting. She’d spilled on herself without noticing. Her skirt had a tear in it. She already knew the buttons were tight, that wasn’t so bad on its own, but when put together with everything else, she felt her impression was that much worse. At least she hadn’t had the stains when she spoke to the King. Was Askel's compliment just a kindness?

At Fareed’s confirmation, Stratya turned and motioned with a finger toward her squire. She and a servant were standing by each other, talking quietly and subtly while watching, the way they had to. She remembered her days as a guard. Being on watch or standby was always so boring, she understood the need to talk or do [i]something[/i]. The servant talking to her squire poured a pint of mead and brought it forth, offering it to Fareed.

[color=peru]“Thank you. Shall I help wit’ brreakfast, tomorrah? I’ve got a nice pile of breads from t’ last week, they’ll make fine eggy toast.”[/color] Slightly stale bread is best for eggy toast. Stratya gave the servant a grin, knowing her food was always popular. Rather than continue to pass out silver, perhaps that would be a better way to express her gratitude for their service?

Once he’d gone to return to standby, she turned to Fareed,[color=peru] “I say tha’ about my warrdrrobe, though someone [i]did[/i] take me tae t’ [i]local[/i] tailor nae sae long ago. Nae ferr [i]this[/i], obviously..”[/color] She looked, self-consciously, at the ill-fitting shoulders of the uniform. While she had things that fit better, that were made later, this had been one of the first things made for her. The inexperience of the tailor in dressing a woman like [i]her[/i] was obvious, though could one tell that was the problem?

[color=peru]“Arre warrior women well in t’ ken of Alidasht tailors? Or perhaps yerr familiar of one with the rreyt skill.”[/color]

Count Emil Schmidt earned a look from her on his entrance, one of apprehension. The Captain had been to Hartworth several times, both as a destination and passing through. Never for pleasant business. In fact, her first accomplishment as a knight had been outside the limits of Hartworth. A remnant of the crime ring she’d ended in Encia was attempting to establish itself as a source of slaves for other black market powers, but she’d caught scent of it and struck the cell down.

Always around Hartworth, and never within.

[color=peru]“Now, there is a man that, is..”[/color] she paused, chewing her words a moment,[color=peru] “like a fair grreen sky.”[/color] The color of ill weather, but perhaps interesting or pleasant if you didn’t know.