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The Faraway Land: Knights vs Dragons (CLOSED)

Makeover Montage

The women were respectful enough to leave A Mantel Scharlachroter on an armor stand to await cleaning my by hands...through my insistence bolstered by their understanding snipeish attitudes about a responsibility I was loathe to imagine they understood...
"I's'not my armor! Do I look loike a squoir to ye?"

Kaitra blew bubbles from her nose by how she was submerged in the tub, eyes locked on the still grimy aspect of her nobility...thankfully unmarred by the tragedy by how proudly it glinted, however dully, in the light from the window.

Resolute...indeed, it was as much my responsibility to carry the mantle home as it was the armor to keep me safe along the way.
That man in the lobby, though. I am certain I know him almost as much as he appeared to know me. A perceptive mind can notice attention by else than eyes, alone. We know this; something other than words to peel the venom out of the air.

Kaitra closed her eyes and sank into the warm suds of the bath.

Certainly an interesting one. Likely here for business. Likely here for similar business.
I have questions, too, kinsman...we should both be ready to provide answers.
Noblesse oblige~
___________________________________________________________

"S'oll knots n'tangles!"
"Eit still hurts if you brush like that..."
"Tah'd hurt less if - ye - stopped - flinchin'!"

"Ye'have lohvleh hands. Shame y'nails all chewed, so much work undone..."
"I am...an understandably nervous person..."
"Hm hm~♫ Understandable how to understand such an understanding, hm?"
"Please not this again..."

"NO and that is my final word!"
"Come now, lass. Naught every day ye'git ta meet with tha king!"
"..."
"Well, I think these colors would look lovely on you. A proper lady would appreciate a dress of such make!"
"I do not believe you are aware of exactly vhy I am here."
"Ta break an ol' seamstress's heart~?"
"I...apologize, sincerely, but the answer, I insist, will remain 'no'...although thank you"
"Theres ya manners, tha road hadn't beat it out'ya yet!"
"Heh, not quite yet, ma'am"
__________________________________________________________

Thankfully, I was left to have a moment of contemplation while cleaning the mantle, a wipe of a cloth reveling my reflection under the grime. Shadows under my sharp eyes, standing stark on my pale complexion, betrayed the uneasy sleep I'd had on the road here. There was unfortunately much more to do, and a proper night's sleep may unfortunately be a luxury I would not be able to afford for some time to come. I could have covered it with some ease, given the makeup that was provided and packed, though it seemed impractical with my resolution to the confines of the helmet. The nail polish, however, was something I admired for its sheen and durability, giving me a reason to attempt to kick the habit of biting off my nails.

Completing their work, Aark, in an impressive display of flexibility, finished donning their armor just as a knock on their door came. The servants from before looked them over, informing them of the current attendance in the council chamber as they strapped their visor into place, once again obscuring their face. With a silent nod, they exited the room and made their way.

partially related

Sometime later, though conveniently around the time when others were beginning to file into the council chamber, the door opened for the refurbished Aarkenhan to stride in. Dingy intricacies of their armor were renewed with a polish that still lingered and mingled with a faint aroma of potpourri and lavander. Light glinted from the rare metal with a mirror-like sheen as they passed by a window in the process of selecting a seat. The presence of eyes from the darkness behind the visor peered out of, looking over the present attendance.

Blame it on the refreshed state, but their previous venom was stifled enough to relax in the presence of questions that would have otherwise gnawed at them. For the moment, this was business, and surely there was a story to every character's detail.
A soft inhale reverberated from behind the visor before the prompt for the congregation to introduce themselves was suggested by Rhayven. Pleased by the likeminded initiative, Aark elected to reply in the doctor's stead as a gesture intended to break the ice.
With a nod of their head, one hand on the back of a chair and the other hovering over their heart for a moment, they spoke with an effort to come off more masculine, "Fair days to come, eit iz a pleasure to be makink an acquaintance vith all of you. Such iz...unfortunate...zeht I am not zee most familiar with some names, but you may know me as Aarkenhan of Ispar...Aark vill suffice, as I should not so boldly inflict a mouthful vith simple addresses, ah?"
Their tone, rich with an Isparian accent, was angled to come off warm and welcoming, concluding with a mild chuckle at the attempt at implying humility. They then continued, "I vould hope to learn your names, as vell, given zeht I expe-" before pausing, shaking their head briefly and concluding, "...anticipate...zeht we may come to refer to each other, often."

The Faraway Land: Knights vs Dragons (CLOSED)

Not a fan of rapid posting, but I can have the other post ready in maybe an hour or less if we're just trying to move things along. :x

The Faraway Land: Knights vs Dragons (CLOSED)

I have the second half of the post that dumps Aark out in the council chamber, anyway. It can be ready to go in a few hours, once I get off of work.

The Faraway Land: Knights vs Dragons (CLOSED)

I decided on just cutting my post in half.
*shrug*

The Faraway Land: Knights vs Dragons (CLOSED)

Invisible to the two was a smirk in response to their brand of humor as they shook the hand of the man who introduced themselves as Sir Zedekiah Patronus, 'Zed' for short. With a nudge of express expectancy phrased in the way of expectance, Aark nodded to the two men and left them to their work in favor of ascending the stairs to the main lobby. In the process, they passed by Darvus and offered a bow in stride as the guards greeted them. Exactly which 'highness' they were, Aark couldn't be sure of at a mere glance.
An eerie tone emanated from the congregation of odd individuals, all apparently arriving for a similar purpose. Why else would so many oddities be gathered in the same place at the same time? While wondering how many they would be in association with, their ear caught the muttered tones of one of the individuals, more inclined to lounge with their weapon and...mutter in an all-too-familiar tongue.

Their helmet was all too haunting. Something seemed familiar in a way I was keen on investigating. The world is small, and us noble animals that wander it do so for a reason. This being known, there was a question that was burning at my curiosity since I first conceived of this idea that I should be serving with strangers; how desperate was the king?

"Guten tag..." Aarkenhan greeted in Nebel's direction as a door opened to the side of the hall and half of a dozen middle-aged servant ladies rushed out. The knight's tone was laced with a hiss of suspicion of a very direct nature, likely aimed towards Nebel's appearance. With stark knowledge of the land, any humor intended to be expressed by the ominous getup was lost in a very negative manner by Aark. "Machin wir-" was the end of their questioning as they were immediately beset by the servants who took handfuls of grungy fabric and edges of armor to lead them away.
"I-I Beg your pardon but I-!" the towering knight began to resist, wholly capable in stature to likely lift the entire congregation, but still complying enough to stumble in the direction they were dragging them, a few steps.

"Y'smell like tha road!" one barked in interruption before being joined by another, "N'ye trackin' oooll manner a'filth!"
True and...probably true on the part of the former, Aark had arrived on foot, lacking the luxury of appropriate transport, given the circumstance. While the etchings on mithril and gildings of fabric were apparent, all was begrimed by the toils of flight. Truly a shame, and- "Y'naught see tha king, such as y'is!"

Aark groaned and relented, the oppressive attention within the darkness of their helmet that once focused on Nebel instead turning in the direction of where they were being dragged, luckily in time to tilt their head so the tip of their helmet would not strike the doorframe. The door closed shortly after, and the fading sound of clanking metal and muffled curses in old accents hinted to the knight being dragged off.

The Faraway Land: Knights vs Dragons (CLOSED)

I guess, rather than add convolution and godmodding into the post, it'd be easier if I just waited for a few others to post, first.
Aark is not currently in the council chamber for an arguably good reason.

The Faraway Land: Knights vs Dragons (CLOSED)

I, thankfully, already have a post mostly written. A winter storm cancelled school in the area so I don't have to go to work \o/
...which is nice because I was going to call in due to being hilariously sick.

*continues work on post*

EDIT: Just thought the circumstance was a little funny. <_>
EDIT2: *Slams dayquil and macks on hot soup*

The Faraway Land: Knights vs Dragons (CLOSED)

@Thinslayer

Given recent events, it hits a little close to home, but I liked it, regardless.

The Faraway Land: Knights vs Dragons (CLOSED)

A thumb folded the sheet of paper over after reading it for what had to have been the dozenth time. Shimmering steel folded the familiar crease to a smooth edge the same as when it'd first been read almost a week ago, and the reflection off of a grated visor blurred up to reflect a distant castle past the forest of roof points and other myriad towers.

A pale and haunting skepticism danced in the back of my mind in spite of the straight-forward nature of the note. In as many words that were necessary to earn my intrigue: embark for...Fellmore...ascend The Crown, insist upon a beast of nightmarish legend the mistakes it had made, return the princess...to Southaven Palace.
To Southaven Palace I went. It was a lead, one that I graciously appreciated, and it certainly would save me the time of diplomacies required to request the aid of the realm.

Seven souls, all now my responsibility. Such optimism would surely be my bane, my hope rekindled with just a handful of words speaking of people I, in a word, never met. Seven.
Was I the seventh? I suppose I am a bit rusty with math or interpreting intent through written text, but it was worth investigating. Keeping my expectations tame, I bowed to the courier and inflicted upon them a small handful of gold for their trouble. It must not have been easy to track me down in the middle of the forest, though the phrasing of the note implied I was somehow expected...news travels fast, I guess. The rest was truly secondary, though I am guilty of many of my readings of the note being during the evening where I shared a wild turkey and onions with the courier. They seemed harried by travel, which was understandable, given the contents of their delivery.

This time, when I looked up from the note for what I hoped to be the final time, my eyes met with a portly fellow wearing Drakengard colors, accompanied by their elegant associate. Wrestling with attempts to direct the bustle, they still found time to gesture into the crowd to call others over. Pardon my aforementioned skepticism, but I was not entirely certain this opportunity was taking place until it took both of the men to gesture to me in order to gather just how expected I was.

Plume upon their helmet and a shimmer from between the battlements striking the freshly polished plating, a figure whom, in whole, must have stood almost seven feet tall from feathers to toe, waded through the crowd. Every few steps, they would stop for individuals carrying various goods, offering them "Fair days" and other variations of the pleasantries, until reaching the two.
Aark stood off to a side to allow them to continue about their business while leaning in to show them the message's wax seal that once held it together.

"I am expecting zeht I vahz expected?" their voice came, hollowly, from within the helmet, thick with an accent which immediately betrayed her heritage. A deepening in their voice was present, though first impressions may break expectations, as there were still hints to their tone being lighter than what they then spoke with. However, their tone was directive while welcoming, the most a voice could offer amidst the crowd in order to be heard and convey blatant intent.
As they seemed to be the first, Aark turned back to the crowd to better observe the others being flagged down by the two men, quite easily managing to see over most of the heads in the crowd, though not too far into it, otherwise.

The Faraway Land: Knights vs Dragons (CLOSED)

The letter of invitation sounds like a solid plan.
I agree with there being some small problems with other intros like the tavern not really making much sense. Personally, Aark probably wouldn't be in Drakengard if the princess had yet to be kidnapped.

There are ways it could be done not so long-form.