Dusty

Viva la Vida: The Price of Freedom (Closed)

Justain Royce

Justain Royce

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Name: Justain Royce

Race: Human

Faction: As of now he is loyal to the crown, by circumstance and oath.

Age: Fourteen

Class: Squire

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Motivation: For the time being Justain is a broken child, lost and confused and terrified for his life. There is a deep set anger against the crown hidden within his heart at the loss of his family. However, whatever honor he might have had was lost in his surrender, and his submission to the throne's demands. Young Royce longs to restore his honor, and reclaim his ancestral seat, to take up arms and destroy the Vanguard and the royal family, but how could one cowardly boy ever hope to rise against the might of the crown? Such dreams are only that, dreams...

Strengths: Perhaps Justain's greatest strength is his resourcefulness, or his sharp intellect, or even his gentle heart and fierce (if somewhat concealed) determination. He is someone who can see the big picture, and reflect wisely upon his choices, and although many might consider his reserved demeanor to be a lacking part of his character, Justain can, in a certain sense, utilize this to his benefit. Reasoning through his choices with well rationed intellect in situations where another might act rashly making important decisions through emotion.

Weakness: To place the charge bluntly, Justain is a craven, with just enough wits in his fear recognize the very unique predicament he is in. He is cowed, a defeated husk of his former self. Subservient to those who did him wrong, and doomed to scurry about like a slave to fulfill their bidding. Before it had been his greatest desire to serve a high office, and squire for the royal family, but now it is his punishment, a continuous reminder of his shame. In remaining alive and good standing it seems Justain has no boundaries of which he will not soil his already tarnished honor.

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Description:
A fair faced lad of tender years, Justain is moderate in both aspects of height and weight for a boy of his years. He has the golden hair of a Royce, alongside the fine tenor voice and grey eyes often associated with his house. All in all Justain is a handsome young man, lean and capable at a first glance, but then one starts to notice the cracks, hidden beneath the surface. His eyes are downcast, his words mumbled and cautioned, his shoulders drooped and his feet dragging along in slow hesitant steps. He acts scared around authority, and hurries about like a whipped dog, muttering the expected curtsies with little to no intensity.

Personality:
Well beneath the fear and awkwardness Justain displays so openly, lies the demeanor of a well meaning and kind individual. He is soft spoken, sincere, and respectful albeit slightly combative and insecure in nature. When it comes down to it Justain has all the qualities of a nobleman, but he resides in the mindset that he is deeply lacking as a warrior, neither courageous or gallant, and in a sense he fulfills his own self deprecating prophesy.

History:
The Noble House of Royce has long stood as loyal vassals of the Tricaelian Throne, serving them dutifully throughout the centuries. They are an ancient family, with a documentation and records of nobility going back many hundreds of years. It was often said that there was a no more loyal or honorable family than the Royce's, and not without good cause either. Which was why, in recent months when Lord Simmion Royce was executed for treason in the capitol it came as a shock and a grim warning for all the noble families. The late Royce's house, including his younger brother, Bar Royce, the now acting regent of the Royce castle levied and rallied together the joint Royce armies, calling forth all the retainers and knights to make a stand against Royal family, urging the other noble families to do the same. None did, and although Bar slew the first Vanguard knights to arrive at the keep, in search of the young son of Simmion, he knew his time was short. In short order the King's armies, led by his newly appointed Lord Commander arrived and laid siege to the castle, storming the walls and putting every Royce to the sword except one.

Justain, son of Bar Royce and the sole surviving heir to both the Royce household and all the titles within was captured on that day of slaughter, and forced to bend the knee to Prince Aaron, and surrender in full. Justain was all to willing to grasp at this lifeline, and clench on with all his might, doing anything and everything required of him by Prince Aaron. Justain was sure in that moment that he would be forced to give up his titles and take up permanent residence in the capitol's prisons, however in a moment of mercy, and ingenuity Aaron decided against this, detailing that to ensure that the House of Royce be restored to its former honor and loyalty Justain would squire for him, while the Royce household would remain under the stewardship of Sir Bennrick. This would ensure that Justain was close, and no friends of the fallen Royces could snatch him up and hide him, perhaps plotting another rebellion against the crown.

It was in this way, that young Justain Royce, son of a traitor found himself in the service of a prince, and returning to the capitol, as nothing more than a glorified hostage.

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What is your character's greatest flaw?
His inability to stand up for himself, and his willingness to forgo his family's honor in pursuit of survival.

The Shadow of Loran

Helga

Helga the Herbalist

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Age: Seventy and Seven years

Race: Human

Beast-Blooded/Vampire Neither

Favored Magical Lore: Helga is quite the rare talent when it comes to the magical arts. She has pricked and prodded her way through dozens of theories, texts and tomes with varying success giving her at the very least, limited insight into the basics of most legal mysticism and even some of the more questionable branches as well. She herself however, has only found real success in the schools of nature and enchantments. Helga is a downright prodigy when it comes to druidism, knowing all the plants and creatures and their magical properties, and even speaking in their varied tongues. She combines this nicely with her enchanting talents, brewing potions and tonics from the wild herbs and rare specimens to imbue items with mysterious powers. Her curiosity oft gets the better of her during these experiments, and her neighbors often grumble about the strange colored smokes rising from her chimney, or comment crassly on the sporadic pops and bangs rattling her door frame and windowpanes late at night.

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Appearance: At first glance one might assume Helga is a wizened old woman, well past her prime with thin, pure white hair and a pleasant wrinkly old, but expressive face. That first glance, would of course be incorrect. Helga is anything but past her prime, and one could argue she has only just reached it. She is surprisingly strong, for an old lady, sturdy and with quick precise movements no one would ever expect from a person of her stature. She is rather short, and it is not beyond question for someone to mistake her for a well proportioned dwarf, considering her vitality and strength. She of course refutes that as well, deeming her homemade honey potions to be the secret behind everything. She is almost always dressed in plain, homespun dresses of dark coloring, with a bright orange shawl draped over her shoulders. Whenever the occasion demands she'll adorn her head with a black pointed hat with decorations based upon the season. Eagle feathers and fallen leaves in autumn, fresh grown flowers in spring, and so on and so forth.

Personality: Helga is a cheerful old soul, and although she can be sharp and sarcastic to those who deserve her displeasure she is well meaning all the same. Curiosity is her own true vice after all. And even though she can spout off a dozen different proverbs about how curiosity kills the cat, she herself cannot help her own wondering spirit. Its gotten her into trouble more than once, whether its nibbling strange toadstools, mixing in a little extra popping powder, or bustling over to thrust her large nose into someone else's business. Its not the safest of habits, that's for certain. Somehow, she's managed to survive and through each dangerous encounter or near poisoning she's grown a little more adept at twisting the situation to her favor. She likes being in the forefront and limelight and loves gossiping. Her swift wit and sarcastic humor can be either amusing or infuriating depending upon the circumstance. And although it seems otherwise, Helga can handle herself just fine, after all, she's made it this far.

History: Most folk are not sure of Helga the Herbalist's origins, whether she'd always been living in that crooked old shack at the end of the lane or not. In truth she'd bought the old place and fixed it up nigh forty years before, turning it into her little herbalist shop. The locals weren't entirely sure what to make of her then, or now for that matter. Her potions and remedies were practically legend in those parts, and she also sold little trinkets that many whispered were enchanted. Knives that didn't dull, pebbles that could find lost baubles, and even collars that would keep a hound from killing the chickens. Because of this her strange little shack with all its odd goings on was tolerated, besides that one time when the constable had to make a house call in order to inform her she couldn't shoot massive purple fireballs from her chimney.

Much of the time Helga wasn't home. She traveled often, taking her basket, and her raven (which most folk were convinced could talk) and wander off into the woodlands in search of herbs she didn't, or couldn't grow in her garden. Other times she would take a cart and trundle it off to a larger city or town in order to sell her wares at those far off places, in the big markets returning with strange old books or other such items. She always seemed to know what was going on, or what was what, and one could always count on her having an opinion on everything that happened, big or small.

So, perhaps it was her own fault, that while she was on one of her trips and she met a pair of wealthy men trying to formulate a deal on a stretch of land between their estates. She offered to sell the pair a feather that would heat up should someone be dishonest in their dealings. One of the men purchased the feather and it instantly burst into flame. After a short commotion and a duel between the nobles the scene was broken up by the mysterious homunculi, several bodies were carted away and the item in question was deemed the carrier of a hex, and Helga, despite her best attempts to claim her own umbrage was arrested and dragged off to face her judgment.

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Crime The selling of harmful magical goods, and the practice of illegal magic, and conspiring to murder.
Plead Innocent.

The Shadow of Loran

Hey @Shadow Dragon I don't want to step on any toes, but usually one would post the CS in the OOC, with only approved and accepted CSs going in the character tab.

Viva la Vida: The Price of Freedom (Closed)

@Kitty Do you want me to raise Aaron's age, or do you want to drop Eleanor's?

Viva la Vida: The Price of Freedom (Closed)

Prince Aaron

Prince Willum Aaron Tricaelian II

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"They do not understand, I was born to rule."

Theme

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Faction: Royal Family

Age: Twenty-first year.

Description: Prince Aaron is an immense young man of strapping build, with a round head and slightly pudgy features. He near matches his father the king's height and weight, but that is where the similarities between father and son end. Aaron is round of face and dark of hair, with a clean shaven chin making him look young, but professional. His body is supple and strong, but not without a slight girth that makes him seem even larger and more imposing to most. He dresses in fine hunting garb, gilded armor, and colorful outfits both vainglorious and sturdy. At his hip are an ever present dirk and longsword, ornate in a wealth of garnets and gold. The Prince carries himself with all the swagger of his station and youth, his stride confident and sure, his shoulders poised in good posture.

Class: Crown Prince, Lord Commander of the Vanguard

Personality: It could be said without much doubt that Prince Aaron is a passionate and driven young man. Immense pride resonates from him, every aspect of his being is vainglorious to the extreme. Like his father, and ancestors before him he shows a distinct vitriol for those few outsiders, but differs on his approach. Rather than outright disenfranchising them, Aaron can be subtle and sly is his dealings. Beyond that Aaron is no coward, but has a tactical mind for knowing when to retreat and when to throw caution to the winds and throw his figurative weight about.

Motivation: Aaron is to one day be King Willum the Second! He is the rightful heir to the Kingdom and the current Lord Commander of the Vanguard. He holds a deep vested interest in maintaining the Kingdom so there might be lands and lords and ladies to rule over once his father passes. He also desires to grow his own influence in court, and prove himself a worthy heir to his father.

History: All the bells in the city rang for Aaron's birth. The crones wept joyously, the men shouted in eager admiration, and all the people marveled and welcomed the young ruler into the world. Or so it is said. Whether the people truly danced from dawn to dusk and feasted for ten days and nights, or muttered a sullen, "who cares?" before shuffling about their work Aaron does not concern himself over it. He was born and named Crown Prince Willum Aaron Tricaelian II, destined ruler of all the land, and from that day he was given the reins to power. He was born to rule, and Aaron has waited more than a score of years for his chance to take the throne, and he continues to wait, bowing to his stubborn father's wishes and counting the days before the crown is laid upon his noble brow.

Even from young age Aaron seemed destined to rule. He had to learn his place, and his lessons just like any other boy, but from the very start he spoke with an innate authority, commanding both servants and men to do his bidding from the moment he could talk. His sharp wit, and blunt but intelligent nature was attractive to the other young children of the nobles and courtiers, and he never lacked friends, if that is the proper term for it. They were more his lackeys and entertainers than not else, tagging along because he told them too. Prince Aaron was always above them, beyond them, their better and leader. For this Aaron never had a proper companion, someone who he held as his equal, whose trust he kept and whose friendship was sacred.

Later in life Aaron became a huntsman. In his adolescent years he grew to be a competent tracker and hunter, able to knock and loose an arrow in good form, and thrust a spear into a charging boar with ease. His father always said if he had ever become as capable with a sword as he was at goring a boar with a spear, he would be the finest swordsman in the world. Instead Aaron focused his efforts in those years into falconry, tracking, and riding becoming a master at all three.

In recent years Aaron has possessed less and less time to indulge in his passions, being dragged by matters of state into work of a more diplomatic and militaristic nature. On his twenty-first birthday he was named Lord Commander of the Vanguard, given charge of all the forces of the kingdom's elite fighters, whose competence in battle far exceeded his own. Aaron wasn't entirely out of his element in a position of high command, though when sparring on the training field himself Aaron's weaknesses presented themselves in full. Fortunately for him his position availed him to the intricacies of supply, ceremony, and troop movement and less with swordsmanship and jousting.

Strengths: Aaron is a professional huntsman, there is no doubt about it. When it comes to spear and arrow his aim is true, and his thrust strong. When it comes to trailing a quarry on a misty night there is no better man to track the beast. Furthermore he excels in communication, diplomacy, and debate, showing himself to be a learned man of quick wits. He even enjoys the complications and power of leadership, accounting for all possibilities, ad thinking strategically. Aaron is a master of intrigue and maneuvering pawns to get what he most desires.

Weakness: Upon the tourney fields where bold men clash in a feat of arms Aaron is more apt to make a fool of himself, or be bested by a untested knight in the tilts, or a man-at-arms in the melee. Should Aaron ever engage against a competent swordsman and not a levied peasant in true battle he would find himself hard pressed to survive. The brutal roughness of combat was never his forte. In addition the crown prince has an acquired taste for the comforts of his station, and thoroughly avails himself in lavish fashion. In the grimy, realistic world he is out of place, and awkward, and when in a position of less importance he is always unsure of how to handle himself. Also, Aaron is not a charismatic or likable person. Most folk try to suck up to the noble prince, and as such he is unused to opposition from anyone other than his father. And beyond all that, there is an illness of the mind that plagues Aaron like a dark shadow. Gnawing at the corners of sanity, and eating away at his humanity, slowly, but surely consuming him.

Justain Royce

Justain Royce

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Name: Justain Royce

Race: Human

Faction: As of now he is loyal to the crown, by circumstance and oath.

Age: Fourteen

Class: Squire

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Motivation: For the time being Justain is a broken child, lost and confused and terrified for his life. There is a deep set anger against the crown hidden within his heart at the loss of his family. However, whatever honor he might have had was lost in his surrender, and his submission to the throne's demands. Young Royce longs to restore his honor, and reclaim his ancestral seat, to take up arms and destroy the Vanguard and the royal family, but how could one cowardly boy ever hope to rise against the might of the crown? Such dreams are only that, dreams...

Strengths: Perhaps Justain's greatest strength is his resourcefulness, or his sharp intellect, or even his gentle heart and fierce (if somewhat concealed) determination. He is someone who can see the big picture, and reflect wisely upon his choices, and although many might consider his reserved demeanor to be a lacking part of his character, Justain can, in a certain sense, utilize this to his benefit. Reasoning through his choices with well rationed intellect in situations where another might act rashly making important decisions through emotion.

Weakness: To place the charge bluntly, Justain is a craven, with just enough wits in his fear recognize the very unique predicament he is in. He is cowed, a defeated husk of his former self. Subservient to those who did him wrong, and doomed to scurry about like a slave to fulfill their bidding. Before it had been his greatest desire to serve a high office, and squire for the royal family, but now it is his punishment, a continuous reminder of his shame. In remaining alive and good standing it seems Justain has no boundaries of which he will not soil his already tarnished honor.

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Description:
A fair faced lad of tender years, Justain is moderate in both aspects of height and weight for a boy of his years. He has the golden hair of a Royce, alongside the fine tenor voice and grey eyes often associated with his house. All in all Justain is a handsome young man, lean and capable at a first glance, but then one starts to notice the cracks, hidden beneath the surface. His eyes are downcast, his words mumbled and cautioned, his shoulders drooped and his feet dragging along in slow hesitant steps. He acts scared around authority, and hurries about like a whipped dog, muttering the expected curtsies with little to no intensity.

Personality:
Well beneath the fear and awkwardness Justain displays so openly, lies the demeanor of a well meaning and kind individual. He is soft spoken, sincere, and respectful albeit slightly combative and insecure in nature. When it comes down to it Justain has all the qualities of a nobleman, but he resides in the mindset that he is deeply lacking as a warrior, neither courageous or gallant, and in a sense he fulfills his own self deprecating prophesy.

History:
The Noble House of Royce has long stood as loyal vassals of the Tricaelian Throne, serving them dutifully throughout the centuries. They are an ancient family, with a documentation and records of nobility going back many hundreds of years. It was often said that there was a no more loyal or honorable family than the Royce's, and not without good cause either. Which was why, in recent months when Lord Simmion Royce was executed for treason in the capitol it came as a shock and a grim warning for all the noble families. The late Royce's house, including his younger brother, Bar Royce, the now acting regent of the Royce castle levied and rallied together the joint Royce armies, calling forth all the retainers and knights to make a stand against Royal family, urging the other noble families to do the same. None did, and although Bar slew the first Vanguard knights to arrive at the keep, in search of the young son of Simmion, he knew his time was short. In short order the King's armies, led by his newly appointed Lord Commander arrived and laid siege to the castle, storming the walls and putting every Royce to the sword except one.

Justain, son of Bar Royce and the sole surviving heir to both the Royce household and all the titles within was captured on that day of slaughter, and forced to bend the knee to Prince Aaron, and surrender in full. Justain was all to willing to grasp at this lifeline, and clench on with all his might, doing anything and everything required of him by Prince Aaron. Justain was sure in that moment that he would be forced to give up his titles and take up permanent residence in the capitol's prisons, however in a moment of mercy, and ingenuity Aaron decided against this, detailing that to ensure that the House of Royce be restored to its former honor and loyalty Justain would squire for him, while the Royce household would remain under the stewardship of Sir Bennrick. This would ensure that Justain was close, and no friends of the fallen Royces could snatch him up and hide him, perhaps plotting another rebellion against the crown.

It was in this way, that young Justain Royce, son of a traitor found himself in the service of a prince, and returning to the capitol, as nothing more than a glorified hostage.

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What is your character's greatest flaw?
His inability to stand up for himself, and his willingness to forgo his family's honor in pursuit of survival.

The Shadow of Loran

A interesting concept, you have my interest locked.

Viva la Vida: The Price of Freedom (Closed)

Prince Aaron

Prince Willum Aaron Tricaelian II

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"They do not understand, I was born to rule."

Theme

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Faction: Royal Family

Age: Twenty-first year.

Description: Prince Aaron is an immense young man of strapping build, with a round head and slightly pudgy features. He near matches his father the king's height and weight, but that is where the similarities between father and son end. Aaron is round of face and dark of hair, with a clean shaven chin making him look young, but professional. His body is supple and strong, but not without a slight girth that makes him seem even larger and more imposing to most. He dresses in fine hunting garb, gilded armor, and colorful outfits both vainglorious and sturdy. At his hip are an ever present dirk and longsword, ornate in a wealth of garnets and gold. The Prince carries himself with all the swagger of his station and youth, his stride confident and sure, his shoulders poised in good posture.

Class: Crown Prince, Lord Commander of the Vanguard

Personality: It could be said without much doubt that Prince Aaron is a passionate and driven young man. Immense pride resonates from him, every aspect of his being is vainglorious to the extreme. Like his father, and ancestors before him he shows a distinct vitriol for those few outsiders, but differs on his approach. Rather than outright disenfranchising them, Aaron can be subtle and sly is his dealings. Beyond that Aaron is no coward, but has a tactical mind for knowing when to retreat and when to throw caution to the winds and throw his figurative weight about.

Motivation: Aaron is to one day be King Willum the Second! He is the rightful heir to the Kingdom and the current Lord Commander of the Vanguard. He holds a deep vested interest in maintaining the Kingdom so there might be lands and lords and ladies to rule over once his father passes. He also desires to grow his own influence in court, and prove himself a worthy heir to his father.

History: All the bells in the city rang for Aaron's birth. The crones wept joyously, the men shouted in eager admiration, and all the people marveled and welcomed the young ruler into the world. Or so it is said. Whether the people truly danced from dawn to dusk and feasted for ten days and nights, or muttered a sullen, "who cares?" before shuffling about their work Aaron does not concern himself over it. He was born and named Crown Prince Willum Aaron Tricaelian II, destined ruler of all the land, and from that day he was given the reins to power. He was born to rule, and Aaron has waited more than a score of years for his chance to take the throne, and he continues to wait, bowing to his stubborn father's wishes and counting the days before the crown is laid upon his noble brow.

Even from young age Aaron seemed destined to rule. He had to learn his place, and his lessons just like any other boy, but from the very start he spoke with an innate authority, commanding both servants and men to do his bidding from the moment he could talk. His sharp wit, and blunt but intelligent nature was attractive to the other young children of the nobles and courtiers, and he never lacked friends, if that is the proper term for it. They were more his lackeys and entertainers than not else, tagging along because he told them too. Prince Aaron was always above them, beyond them, their better and leader. For this Aaron never had a proper companion, someone who he held as his equal, whose trust he kept and whose friendship was sacred.

Later in life Aaron became a huntsman. In his adolescent years he grew to be a competent tracker and hunter, able to knock and loose an arrow in good form, and thrust a spear into a charging boar with ease. His father always said if he had ever become as capable with a sword as he was at goring a boar with a spear, he would be the finest swordsman in the world. Instead Aaron focused his efforts in those years into falconry, tracking, and riding becoming a master at all three.

In recent years Aaron has possessed less and less time to indulge in his passions, being dragged by matters of state into work of a more diplomatic and militaristic nature. On his twenty-first birthday he was named Lord Commander of the Vanguard, given charge of all the forces of the kingdom's elite fighters, whose competence in battle far exceeded his own. Aaron wasn't entirely out of his element in a position of high command, though when sparring on the training field himself Aaron's weaknesses presented themselves in full. Fortunately for him his position availed him to the intricacies of supply, ceremony, and troop movement and less with swordsmanship and jousting.

Strengths: Aaron is a professional huntsman, there is no doubt about it. When it comes to spear and arrow his aim is true, and his thrust strong. When it comes to trailing a quarry on a misty night there is no better man to track the beast. Furthermore he excels in communication, diplomacy, and debate, showing himself to be a learned man of quick wits. He even enjoys the complications and power of leadership, accounting for all possibilities, ad thinking strategically. Aaron is a master of intrigue and maneuvering pawns to get what he most desires.

Weakness: Upon the tourney fields where bold men clash in a feat of arms Aaron is more apt to make a fool of himself, or be bested by a untested knight in the tilts, or a man-at-arms in the melee. Should Aaron ever engage against a competent swordsman and not a levied peasant in true battle he would find himself hard pressed to survive. The brutal roughness of combat was never his forte. In addition the crown prince has an acquired taste for the comforts of his station, and thoroughly avails himself in lavish fashion. In the grimy, realistic world he is out of place, and awkward, and when in a position of less importance he is always unsure of how to handle himself. Also, Aaron is not a charismatic or likable person. Most folk try to suck up to the noble prince, and as such he is unused to opposition from anyone other than his father. And beyond all that, there is an illness of the mind that plagues Aaron like a dark shadow. Gnawing at the corners of sanity, and eating away at his humanity, slowly, but surely consuming him.

Viva la Vida: The Price of Freedom

I’m still willing to participate,

Read Only Memories

@Blu Hey, I’m intrigued enough to begin writing up a character, I’d just like to confirm if there are still open slots?

Avatar: Out of the Ashes 🔥

Shannuk

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Mud clung to Shannuk, encasing him in a dirty cocoon of water and dirt as he rolled in violent form with the Earth Nation man. The general chaos, confusion and violence erupting all around them, slowly forging itself into an outright riot was all but ignored by the two battlers as they exhaustedly battered at each other. Each trying to desperately gain the upper hand. Time seemed to melt away for Shannuk, eclipsed by the pain in his abdomen and face, he spat out a tooth at some point, spitting blood into his opponent's face. The man seemed stronger, and tougher, but Shannuk had the endurance, and the drive to come out on top.

They rolled again, snarling as the fight switched from a brawl to the two trying to murder each other. No one interfered, if any of the guardsmen even would have inclined to keep the fight from spilling into such dangerous territory, they were far to occupied to bother now. Shannuk could feel his strength waning even as the man took the top, pinning Shannuk beneath his bulk. Grabbing the earth nation man by the collar he jerked hard to the left. By some fluke the man was off balanced, rolling away his arms flailing. In a flash the young water bender took the advantage, snagging the man’s arms and setting his legs in hooks before thrusting his hips savagely upward, all while pulling away.

The end result was a sharp pop, and a pained scream from the earth bender. Grinning victoriously Shannuk stumbled to his feet and kicked the defeated man in the face, only to lose his balance fall to the mud once more. Laughing Shannuk gathered himself and stood, for the first time taking in the chaotic scene unfolding about him.

Momentarily confused Shannuk cast about for Rila but couldn’t pick her out from amongst the rioters. “Women,” he muttered, waving his hand and gathering a few droplets of water to press against his sore face. “End a fight for them, and they run off without so much as how-do-you-do.” Irritable, and aching Shannuk limped nonchalantly through the riot occasionally stepping around brawlers or ducking a flying stone. He emerged mostly unscathed at the other end. He was more or less uninterested in the battle, just miffed that no one would have noticed his close victory against the earth bender. Stopping by the door, Shannuk examined the cold, rolled steel behemoth designed to keep them from escaping, or at least to keep them from escaping back into the prison’s interior.

Tapping it Shannuk pressed his ear against the iron, listening for any commotion inside. Surely reinforcements would be arriving soon for the hard-pressed Fire Benders already fighting the prisoners. When he heard something, that sounded similar to running from within he pulled away, pressing his back against the wall, gathering a large ball of water in his hands, freezing it, and waiting for whomever the unfortunate soul that dashed through.