Kassarock

The Arrangement [Suki & Kassarock]

That had thrown her off balance, Ozragad thought to himself with a sense of small satisfaction as he dismounted his horse and handed the reins over to one of his guards. He had seen her hesitation then, the glance for reassurance to her guards. She had regained her composure soon enough, but when they were alone, would she act so brave before him?

"Go ahead, I will have no further need of your services." He dismissed his herald and the two guards with a wave of his gauntlet covered hand, took one final look over the edge of the bridge into the rushing depths below, and casually walked over to the opened carriage door. As he climbed inside he fixed his eyes of molten gold on the older guard with the scarred face, the one the Princess had glanced to so conspicuously before. Try anything, and I will open her throat before she can scream. He did not want the game he was playing interrupted by an ill advised assassination attempt.

As he took his seat opposite the Princess the door swung shut behind them, the driver lashed the reins, the carriage began to roll forward over the chasm. To sit comfortably Ozragad had to unbuckle his sword belt, he did so slowly, deliberately. When he had removed it he lay it carelessly his lap in full view of Elise. His hand sat resting near the top of the scabbard, his fingers drumming against the leather coated wood, the hilt easily within his grasp. Waiting.

Her hands were busy also, fidgeting with the edge of her dress. She is nervous now we are alone. Perhaps he should be the one to speak first. Perhaps it would be better to let her sweat and suffer his silence. She turned towards him, frowned in thought or concentration. She is considering her words carefully, she thinks before she acts. Finally her lips parted and she asked him a question. What was his Kingdom like? A neutral question, not quite a banality, but not searching for personal secrets or intimate knowledge. A useful question for a foreigner like herself, but perhaps a thorny one for him.

He turned away from her and looked out of the carriage window, considering his own response. They had past the towers that held the Morganyth side of the bridge and were travelling up a rocky windswept valley to mountain pass that would eventually take them to his capital. Scree slopes of shale tumbled down from the peaks to either side, clumps of hardy twisted birch trees grew in the shelter of the larger boulders, budding for the arrival of spring. The base of valley was taken up by stream that trickled down to meet the Kazadun and open areas of brown grassland and bracken. On a hillside, a lone figure stood by a flock of small dark fleeced sheep, they watched the procession below with interest. When he finally spoke his voice was deep, sonorous.

"Much of it is as you see before you, mountain and moorland. On the southern coasts it turns to salt marsh and if you go too far north the mountains grow higher and are crowned with ice. Beyond Cirith Anyr are the Ashlands and mountains of fire, they are... difficult... to comprehend if you have not seen them with your own eyes. As for my city... you will see it soon enough."

Ozragad's lip curled with a faint smile at that. There wasn't much beauty in the harshness of his land, but he was proud of what the Formori had built at Cirith Anyr, in spite of the bitter memories he associated with it. The he felt the flicker of his rage when his mind retraced those old wounds from his past, carelessly resurrected by an idle thought and a woman's presence. How different his life might have been if Morganyth had been green, if they had just a sliver of what the Eorzian's squandered. Is she mocking me? Making me spell out the meanness of my Kingdom to make light of our inferiority. His face set into stone.

"I understand from my time in Eorzia that it does not compare favourably." He looked at her directly then, would she agree him with, or try to play false modesty? He decided to press her further, provoke her.

"The countryside around the capital is especially pleasant I recall, but you must have grown up in the palace correct? How does it look now? I haven't lain eyes on the interior since it burned. Did they remodel? I always found the frescoes in the royal bedchamber too gaudy for my preference."

The Arrangement [Suki & Kassarock]

Your decision about what happens next, we can time skip to getting to the Morganyth court, or we can roleplay through some conversation. Unless you have other ideas?

The Arrangement [Suki & Kassarock]

The King did not find what he was looking for in Princess Elise Hydaelyn. She did not shrink away from him, hide behind her guards, or grovel and beg before him. He did not see the fear or weakness he had expected from her. There was none of the theatrics that most Eorzian women preformed when they happened to fall in his path, although granted the circumstances were rather different. In fact she was largely inscrutable, but for a moment, when he saw the flash of anger behind her pale blue eyes. He had not expected this, this steely composure in the face of the terror of her people. She is bold for a girl bartered away.

When she spoke she hardly looked at him, glancing down at her hand, almost as if he bored her, as if he were some inconsequential suitor she wished she could dismiss. No courtesy, no deference. That stirred something in Ozragad, he was not used to being met with disinterest. He felt is lip curl upwards with a sneer. Perhaps he should teach her a lesson when it came to Morganythian courtly manners. No, look closer, look at the others. Her guards were gathered close, the older one with the fierce scar on his cheek had his hand upon the hilt of his sword. They were afraid, they knew the danger they were walking into.

And then she broke. Not much, a dip of head, a spoken apology. Oh but the anger Ozragad saw in those eyes as she lowered them to him. She hates me almost as much as I have hated them. He wasn't surprised by that, and it didn't evoke anything within him. I would probably feel the same were I in her position. Let her be angry, so long as it did not interfere with his plans ans she did not show him flagrant disrespect, she could feel however she wished. It was no concern of his.

"There is no need to apologise, the road between your capital and mine is a long one... Your Highness."

Let him return courtesy with courtesy, there was no reason to make her despise him anymore than she already did. Besides he should consider his reputation amongst his own people. It was one thing for a King to be merciless to his enemies on the field of battle, it was another thing for a man to demean and disrespect his wife.

"We will not reach Cirith Anyr before nightfall unless we ride hard. My men and I will escort you the remainder of the way, these lands can be perilous to the unwary, especially during Ashfall. We should not delay."

His gaze lingered on the Princess as he went to turn his horse about and ride back over the bridge, the men had had brought with him began falling in line behind him. Then he hesitated, taken by a sudden unexpected urge. Once she was in his court there would be eyes everywhere, duties to attend to, they would rarely be alone, rarely have a chance to truly gauge each other's strength. He should do it now.

"Perhaps I might ride with you instead, Your Highness? Alleviate your boredom on this tedious journey. Surely, we should get to know each other and I know so little about you."

What Are You Listening To?

I finally finished Vinland Saga and I still can't this banger out of my head.

The Arrangement [Suki & Kassarock]

Ha, I like her, I like her a lot!

I have a feeling this is going to be quite a fun RP, they're gonna drive each other crazy aren't they?

Will work on something tonight

The Witcher: Under the Shadow

Ask and ye shall receive

The Witcher: Under the Shadow

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Nadia - The Old Road

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Nadia had awoken as the pre-dawn chill melted away before the first rays of the rising sun. She had spent a restless night beneath a thicket of shrubbery a small ways off the Old Road that ran between the petty kingdom of Brugge and the former principality of Sodden. Mostly Temerian land now of course. Foltest had done exceedingly well for himself in the aftermath of Sodden Hill, picking over the choice leavings of Cintra and Nilfgaard. But here she was, loyal and faithful servant of the Temerian crown and veteran of said battle, sleeping in the mud, under a pile of twigs.

"Fucking peace. Doesn't do me any good."

She muttered to herself as unwrapped the blanket around her and stretched out her aching muscles. It had been a lean year or so after everything had calmed down with Nilfgaard. Coin had been thin, hence why she was sharing a hedge with all of gods creatures instead of waking up in a nice warm bed in an inn. But that would all change hopefully, if Foltest came through on his promise of payment for taking and holding the fortress she would soon be a rich woman.

The embers of last night's fire were rekindled with fresh wood. Nadia set her fire irons and pan above it to make a thin porridge of oats and water. She poured the dregs of her wine skin into the pot as well in order to give it some flavour. Wasn't worth drinking away, after a few days in a skin, the wine would taste more of leather than anything else. All in all it only took her an hour or so eat, groom her horse, and squat above the overgrown ditch that lined the ancient thoroughfare. She did take the time to don her brigantine and some of her other armour. The road had been quiet thus far, but she wouldn't be taking any chances on this side of the border.

The female mercenary unhitched Wander and mounted the saddle, one of her spears careless balanced across her thighs. As the sun continued to warm the day she could help but feel a faint smile creep across her lips. Soon. It could not be that far from the meeting point now.

"Come on boy, let's go find us some fucking Temerians."

Nadia and Wander set off a brisk trot.

____________________________________

They smelt them before they saw them, the scent of wood smoke and cooked meat seemed irresistible after Nadia's own paltry breakfast. From the road she could not see where they were, the woods were thick in this part of Sodden, but she could see a path beaten down through the brush leading west off of the Old Road. Looks likely enough...

It did not hurt to be a little cautious though. She paused before riding into the woods, put on her helm and picked up her shield. Her reins she held in the left hand and with her right she gripped her spear. Nadia held it overarm, the haft resting on her shoulder, her hand wrapped around shaft about two thirds of the way towards the tip where the balance point was. The head of spear was an ugly thing, not a large thin bladed head meant for cutting as well as thrusting, but a narrow diamond sectioned spike of grey iron, designed to pierce through flesh and mail with its savage point. It would take a small movement and Nadia would be ready to hurl her weapon into the nearest attacker.

"Let's see if anyone is home."

She urged Wander forward at a slow pace, trying to make as little noise through the trampled brush as she did so. The camp was not far beyond, a cluster of horselines, cookfires and small tents around a large oddly shaped stone. There were armed men there, as well as labours and crafts men. All flying Temerian colours. It seemed she had found the right place after all.

There was a man waiting at the edge of the path that lead to the camp. He had a hard look about him, a nose that had been broken one too many times, mean looking eyes, a swordsman physique. He reminded her of a lot of mercenaries she had ridden with in the past. But he wasn't one, too well dressed. One of Foltest's knights perhaps? As she approached she lowered the spear and drew off her helm with her newly freed hand, letting her tangled black locks fall freely down the side of her shaved head again. There was wide grin across her face, revealing her missing and cracked tooth.

"I'm guessing that you're Foltest's merry little band headed South? Care to spare a sausage for a veteran of Temaria?"

The Arrangement [Suki & Kassarock]

I like the pic, post is up, got a little more unwieldy than I was expecting so I finished it this morning instead

The Arrangement [Suki & Kassarock]

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Morganthyn - The Bridge of Skulls

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The King waited for his betrothed on the bridge of skulls. He sat atop a horse, armed and armoured as if he were expecting battle, a retinue of warriors five abreast behind him. The feeble rays of the sun that made its through the overcast clouds glinted off of the crown affixed his brow. In the gorge far below the dark waters of the Kazadun river churned and boiled as it cut its way through the mountains. His eyes searched the horizon, she would be here soon.

Ozragad was not sure himself why he had chosen this particular place for their first meeting. He could have met the convoy at their borders, he could have received her at his capital. But instead he had chosen the bridge. It was the only way to cross the river for twenty leagues in either direction. When the war had first turned against him, Ozragad had tore down all other bridges and fords along its course. It had been his great defensive line.

Am I in need of such defences today? The King thought to himself. No, perhaps I merely wish to frighten her.

The bridge was itself a frightening place. It was narrow, with almost no parapet and a perilous drop to the waters hundreds of feet below. That alone was enough to make the stomach churn, but the bride would have another meaning to a member of the Hydaelyn family. This was where he had slain Crown Prince Magnus and destroyed his army. After the battle he had ordered the river picked clean of corpses and had lined the bridge with the skulls of the fallen Eorzians, a warning to all those who entered his lands. One of those skulls could very well belong to her long dead ancestor.

Looking back it seemed crude, but in those early days of the war he had often let his rage get the better of him. He was older now, more cautious, tired. But still crude enough to try and scare some Eorzian girl I've bartered away my pride for?

It was true, he could feel his anger simmering away inside him at what he was forced to do. It had not been his idea, but his advisers had been correct. If Ozragad wanted her lands, then he must wed the girl. Pacts were made through blood, either on the battlefield or through marriage, not through words. But still he wished it had been the other way, that he had beaten Eorzia into surrender, he had come so close so many times.

It would not be though. His last war council had made that abundantly clear.

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The Council

High in the palace of Cirith Anyr, King Ozragad had held council with his generals and his advisers. It was coming to the end of winter, and they gathered to plan the campaigns of the King's armies come the spring. Their voices were raised in argument, echoing in the draughty stone chambers. The faces of dead Formori kings and queens loomed down at them from the shadows above.

"It cannot be done, we do not have the manpower to launch a second offensive front to the south."

Manawyndan, a stern man with close cropped iron grey hair and rasping voice stood his ground against a tide of dissent. He was the oldest and most trusted of Ozragad's generals, his preferred regent when the King was away on campaign. He spoke slowly and calmly. He was one of the few who had stood in this chamber when Ozragad had planned his first campaign. He had seen it all.

"Our garrisons at Northandur and Gurrandas are depleted as it is. If we open another front we leave our defences critically weakened. If we can't protect our supply lines any new offensive army is doomed."

"You have too little faith in your King, old man."

A young woman answered him, with a sneer of derision. Rhiathon, captain of the Ozragad's personal guard. She was one of the war's most ardent supporters on his council, and always favoured the most aggressive of actions.

"The Nemesis of Eorzia has beaten larger armies with fewer men! This war drags on because you shy away from bold strategy."

"Enough! Both of you!"

Ozgarad's voice cut through the arguing like a knife. His face was still, but his brow was furrowed and his eyes burned with fury. This council had been to help him find solutions to the problems he had been considering, none were forthcoming. He rose from his chair and began to pace the breadth of the room. He was not used to being so vexed when it came to crafting his plans for warfare.

"Manawyndan is correct, a second front to the south leaves us vulnerable to counter attack. I am looking for alternatives."

"Perhaps sire, The Mountain Clans to the north? Could we not pay them off to increase their raids against Eorzia? Force them to move their troops north, opening up the south for for us t-

Another of the younger generals spoke up this time, but Manawyndan shut him down before he could even finish.

"The clans are too unreliable. We did the same thing fifty years ago, they melted back into the hills after one defeat and that let the Eorzians trap us into that bloodbath outside of Tradeforth. Besides there is the matter of paying off the clans. Our treasury is not looking healthy. Our harvest was poor, and we will need to import food for some time yet. If this years harvest is as poor as the last we will need every coin to keep our people from starving."

"All the more reason to attack Ezoria! They have all the food we need, we just have to tak-"

"I said enough!"

Ozgarad roared at his council, his patience worn away. It was just the same argument going round in circles. They were spent, they could not continue the assault. But if they did not continue then the Eorzians would smell weakness and all the gains he had made would be lost and he would be pushed back into the mountains once more. There had to be some other way.

"Leave me. You are dismissed."

His generals and counsellors filed out of the chamber, until only the King and Manawyndan remained. A tense silence hung between them.

"I keep looking for a solution, some way to turn our predicament into advantage, as I have done a hundred times before. But I see nothing."

"We need time to heal, time to recover our strength."

"The Eozrians are hardly going to hand me that are they?"

A ghostly flicker of a smile passed over the old Formori generals face.

"There's an envoy on his way to the capital. They stopped him at the Tower of Rhudlan, one of my spies searched him during his confinement there. He is carrying a peace offering and a marriage pact between Your Highness and Regis's daughter."

Ozgarad's eyes bulged, the fire within them burned incandescently. His face contorted in rage for but a moment before he regained his composure. Manawyndan was as close to a friend as the King possessed, he knew that the old warrior had his reasons for raising such an insult to his pride.

"And what makes you think I would entertain such a ridiculous proposal?"

"Negotiating a settlement and a marriage will take months, there will be a betrothal period as well. All time for you to come up with a new plan without appearing weak. The marriage is the seal on the peace, no agreement is binding until you wed..."

It was all true, he could string them along for a few months with talk of peace in order to give his armies a chance to rest. He could even use it to lull them into a false sense of security and launch a surprise invasion. But Manawyndan was not finished.

"But you know, I have been thinking that going through with it could be even more advantageous."

"What!?"

"Just think about it. They probably weren't expecting you to accept this, its all posturing for the royal court, the Eozrians love their precious good reputation."

The old general laughed, his eyes gleaming as he began to unwind the schemes that he had been weaving in his head.

"She's one step away from the throne itself! She would make an excellent hostage should we go to war again. You could refill our treasury with her dowry, or better yet, claim it in fertile lands along our borders with which to feed our people and push the front line further into Eozria. But most of all, should anything befall Prince Ravus, she could be the heir to the entire Kingdom. As her husband, you could be King. If you produced an heir with her, they could rule both Morganyth and Eozria."

Manawyndan glanced away from a moment and seemed to draw back into himself, becoming grave. He approached his King and touched his arm lightly. Ozragad knew what he was going to say before he opened his mouth.

"Besides, its been more than long enough. The past is in the past, you need t-"

"You overstep yourself."

The hand withdrew from his royal person. The general lowered his eyes.

"Forgive me, sire."

Neither of them spoke for a minute, until the King turned to leave the room.

"When the envoy arrives bring him to me, I will have conditions to make."

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The King looked at his land as he waited for the Princess to arrive. The rocky scree slopes of the mountains, the black depths of the gorge, the few trees stunted and twisted by the wind and ash fall. Morganyth was smaller than Eorzia, poorer too, his people were fewer, every man lost was a greater blow for them than the Eorzians. For all his martial prowess, he could not win a war of attrition. If they do not have time to heal, then I will be King of nought but bones and ashes.

She was his chance to let them heal.

A horn sounded from one of the towers that flanked the side of the bridge that led deeper into his kingdom, she was here. A few moments later a carriage accompanied by armed guards rounded the bend, it came to a halt on the other side of the river.

"With me."

He took his herald and two of his guards with him as he rode out across to the Eorzian side. They stopped at the foot of the bridge. He let the herald announce him.

"King Ozragad of the House of Gwydion, King of Morganyth, Lord of all Fomori and Nemesis of Eorzia!"

Ozragad trotted his horse forward and got his first good look at the princess. He had met many of the Hydaelyn dynasty over his long years, but rarely in civil circumstances, and few of the fairer sex. She was pretty at least that was for sure. More mature than he had expected, but of course humans bloomed far quicker than Formori. Twenty five sounded like half a child to him, but this was a woman grown. The contrasts between them were stark, fair where he was dark, petite where he was tall. Even their colours, she in a blue dress while a blood red cloak billowed down the back of his armour.

He didn't smile, his eyes searched her face, looking for something. Weakness? Doubt? Fear?

"I am King Ozragad, you must be Princess Elise. I bid you welcome to my Kingdom."

The Arrangement [Suki & Kassarock]

Right time to get working on an IC post, as long as there's nothing you object to with Ozragad?