POOHEAD189

Shields of the Empire

This would be the final push. The men could feel it in the air, bearing down on Arbela like the simmering heat that still permeated the air even as the sun began to set. Calls of action and hurried marching filled the air as men realigned their formations, every jogging man moving like the parts of a slowly ticking clock. Below them, the monster of an army began to stir like some great seabeast cruising beneath the waves; its massive dark shape swiveling toward Arbela, inexorably approaching to swallow the township up and end every life within its broken walls. Unfortunately for the khareeds, they had Brasidas to contend with.

"Loxos," Brasidas said, biting into one of the last apples in Arbela. The juices reminded him of just how thirsty they might all have been had there not been the river just south of their position. Sayf strung his strange bow beside the two, testing the string with one bulging eye. His Proto Lochias approached mechanically, having been summoned to discuss the plan of battle just before it started. Now that things were in motion, it was time to move.

"Yes Archontas?" He asked, saluting in the Imperial fashion. In one hand he bore a spear, and the Protostate almond-shaped shield was in the other, the construction of wood, leather, and iron on the central boss made it surprisingly resilient to damage even by Khareed Mamluks. Just as Brasidas, he wore the normal armor of an infantryman, save for some decoration on the helmet. No one, not even the commanders deserved more protections than their men. Sent the wrong message on priorities.

"The Kahreeds are mad at us, don't you think?" He asked conversationally.

"Yes, they are."

Brasidas bit into his apple again, nodding. "I think they miss their comrades. Why don't we give them back to these poor men? ... Let them go, and lead the left wing."

"Archontas!" He saluted, and hurried away. Brasidas respected the man's professionalism, him and Argyros. Sometimes he wished the two turned off on campaign at least for a moment, but he would rather the man be perpetually professional than not. Sayf was a bit too nonchalant, but as long as he did what he was told, Brasidas didn't reprimand him for it. Speaking of the nomad, he gave the Protos Kapetanos a satisfied smile. "Well Khalkós, am I to go join the others and fight on foot? I am not entirely sure my men's role here, and you have been silent as always. Do you think it is a showing of manhood to not speak?"

"You and your men support Loxos to the north, and when he gives the order, charge in and take care of your brethren. Let's see if we paid the right Scythians for our service, yeah?"

"You have a strange strategy Brasidas Khalkós, but who am I to judge? Pay me and my men and we will cut the throats of whoever you wish." He said, and the bow-legged man stalked off to find his horse, weaving through the streets as men charged to and fro, some carrying bags filled with their opening act, ushering them to the front. Brasidas donned his helm, and took his axe. The haft was wood over bronze, giving it extra weight in the swing of its bearded, iron head. The Kahreeds no doubt expected him to head the Cataphracts, and he called twenty of his best men to follow him to the front to watch the festivities commence.

"Apele theroste tous kratoumenous!" A man cried, and dozens upon dozens of Protostates stepped through the interlocked shields and opened bags of ox-skin. Out tumbled hundreds of severed heads, dried blood caking their necks and eyes filled with feasting gnats, rolling down the slope to their living comrades. Brasidas had them counted, and he watched as a thousand enemy epicraniums crashed into the ranks of advancing soldiers, crowding their feet and smacking into their knees. It slowed their approach and cries of fear rang up as protostate troopers opened fire, loosing their arrows from their long recurve bows. The arrows rained down amongst the enemy, but it was only to soften them up. Now came the true battle.

"Protostates!" Brasidas cried, cracking his axe against his shield in unison with his twenty Cataphracts, ringing across the wastes. "Follow me into Hades!" He roared. The muscled man cried a warcry and began loping down the decline in his full armor, flanked by his personal guard. The protostates did not hesitate, following their Protos Kapetanos down the hill, some throwing spears but many now unsheathing their spathas to pierce through the kahreed armor once they entered melee. It wasn't just Brasidas's command; Argyros and Loxos made their move, slowly but surely flying out from the north and south; Argyros appearing from the riverside, his men wielding a bristle line of spears, Eirene among them.

Brasidas himself first crashed into the enemy's ranks, hammering into the front line and cleaving into a kahreed's neck, kicking aside a militiaman with his iron boot as he felt a sword cut his arm. Behind him, his men rolled in amongst the confused but still very dangerous mass of enemy infantry, their arrows flying above them to try and kill some of the Imperials as they charged forward, but with little effect. No more hiding, no more defending. They would break the enemy here and now, or die trying. The Protos Kapetanos cried to his war god as he hacked with abandon, banging his shield against enemy armor and crying out to keep his men by his side. He could not see, but Sayf and his five hundred nomads rode out of the dunes to the north, trading arrows with their counterparts and screaming their undulating cries of battle.

Loxos hurried, but he would not make it to the battle before the next wing arrived. Thankfully, he was not supposed to. Wheeling round the hillock, appearing for the first time in days, the fully mounted Cataphracts thundered over the sparsely grass ground, lowering their lances and readying their maces as they approached, the enemy prepared for an infantry fight, not a charge of heavy cavalry! When they hit their lines, men were trampled by the dozens, and Loxos swept in to keep the melee air-tight. He was good at it. With Argyros at the south, keeping their mass from flanking with the wall of spears? It was now a blood bath, and only the strongest would live.

Blades of the Blood Coast

It looks like @Pagemaster is the only one past due. If you have any extenuating circumstances, let me know! I'll add one more day for you to get the post it!

Shields of the Empire

It had been an eventful day.

The Kahreeds had made it up the slop thrice since they were first repelled, attacking in even greater force, though they sent increasing numbers of infantry. The terrain did not support their mamluk's tactics, and Heronticles the One Eye had seen their cavalry forces dismounted and camping, enjoying what food or drink they had. Some of them anyway. The others had joined their lesser infantry on foot; men with wicker shields and boiled leather and mail now marching with their more heavily armored brethren in wielding shorter, more devastating armaments. It was Brasidas's firm opinion that while the light kahreed infantry might be a match for militia, a Protostates will win one on one four out of five bouts. But with dismounted mamluks beside them, along with their strength in numbers, they could buckle at any time.

Brasidas had ordered his cataphracts to dismount, ushering their horses into the citadel to be under the care of the locals. The Imperial troops would protect their homes and keep them safe whilst they cared for the horses, with only a skeleton crew of sentries posted within the small fortress to keep an eye on things. The townsfolk might be Ashvari themselves, but they knew how the kahreed operated. There was a very real chance if they reconquered Arbela, they would rape and loot and claim it was the Imperials, and the kahreed garrison Brasidas had butchered had not been the best men to rely upon. And so Brasidas had forged an agreement with the elder, and now they were a single unit in the face of their besiegers.

Loxos had lost a finger in the last engagement, and Argyros had been awake for three days. If he continued his body would break, Brasidas knew, and so he took the post of his Protos Lochias and ordered Argyros sleep. He wished he could say it was out of charity, but he would be damned if he wasn't at the fore, and the only way his men would live to see the next dawn was if he stood among them. Taking a spear and reclaiming his lost mace, he stepped in front of his men and ordered their volleys, arrows scything past him into the enemy ranks as they tried to crest the hill, and he stepped back into his protostate formation and held the line. He thrust with his men, pushed back the enemy with his shield, and when they could no longer bear the weight, he told them to retreat as he called forth "Cataphracts!" Seven hundred men of hard muscle and heavy armor would advance to their leader, mace and sword and broad bladed axe cutting a swathe through the enemy whilst the crows watched above, blood spraying on the shrubs and sand before they would fall back, making sure never to reach level ground with their foe.

Loxos and Theron, a Lochias of the lower ranks, held the north and south of the town as Brasidas held the east, using the smallest but most elite troops to spare the rest from the brunt of the fighting. Even Sayf and his light nomads could do little, the enemy employing their own steppe archers; a rival clan Sayf explained. Such were the chances of a culture employed as mercenaries. It was unfortunate, however. He did not know what held his old friend, Tychos, or where Georgicus was. Before they had taken Arbela, he had received strange news of desertions and odd enemy movements. Brasidas had never been a pessimest, but he had a feeling he couldn't figure. It had been reinforced by a poor sight he had seen the other day, of a snake clutched in the talons of a hawk; an uncomfortable omen. In boreas, the elders taught such a sight meant great changes were coming.

It took a day for Brasidas to see any glimmer of hope beyond the fighting and blood, and it wasn't in the form he thought it would be.
-

"Archontas, this is the scout." Herokas said, the Protostate giving a salute as Brasidas permitted him to resume his patrol. The shielded spearman hustled away to the south, leaving the Protos Kapetanos, a Lochias, and two of his cataphracts alone in a townhouse with this strange woman who wiped blackened oil off her face, revealing amber eyes and tanned skin. So it was true, she was Miravet. He bid she rise, and so the woman did. She saluted him in the Imperial fashion, but made a vague sign with her hand. Miravet women were strange, but they had his respect from all he had seen and heard.

"Are you Brasidas Khalkós?" She asked, holding his gaze like a cobra. He nodded curtly, giving the greeting of Boreas, punching his fists together audibly. "I serve Protos Kapetanos Phaedra. She waits for the enemy's next attack before she strikes. Our forces are east, in the dried creeks of the lowlands. Prepare your men, Archontas Khalkós." The Miravet's first language was clearly not imperial, but she was also very obviously well versed in it.

"She has my thanks, as do you. It looks like we're going to have one wild night." He said, thinking Phaedra must be close indeed for so much of the boot polish to remain on this woman during her sojourn into the river. That, and thinking she could attack whenever the enemy saw fit to advance. "You may rest yourself, soldier, if it is what you wish. The wounded and tired are in the citadel. You have my aegis if you are weary from your service."

"Archontas," she said, stepping forward, squaring her shoulders. "I wish to fight and rejoin my sisters. Nothing more." The two cataphracts looked to one another, and the Lachios nodded in approval. Brasidas grinned.

"Then fight you shall, warrior. Kantos! Go get this soldier some food, water, and our finest spear. Before sunset they will attack again." He told them, and waved his men off to their duties, leaving him and the woman in the room alone. He spoke as the silence fell, though whether to himself or to her, it was difficult to say.

"There will be plenty of blood for everyone."

Shields of the Empire

"Straton, report."

The room, alight by torches and still warm from the fire, was suddenly brightened by the opened door. Somehow through the cool night, the sandstone of the walls kept the heat locked within through a strange structural design the locals had erected. Three men turned toward the door from their hushed discussion, the map upon the table they leaned over depicting the breadth of the Empire and the lands that bordered it, including the western half of the Ashvari Empire in great detail. Small figures whittled from the wood of fig trees were arrayed along the map to indicate the movement of their regiments, courtesy of Archanon. The men within the room were commanders all, two Protos Lochias of the infantry, a foreigner, and the Protos Kapetanos himself.

Straton breathed heavily, the Protos Lochias evidently hurried to tell his superior without sparing any of his men, leaving the lesser Lochias to keep discipline and cohesion. It was commendable, being personally left in charge of the scouts to keep their eyes open throughout the night. "They'll be here in a matter of minutes, Archontas." Straton related, and when he was given leave by a wave of his superior's hand, he pushed off the door frame and ran back out to rejoin his company.

"I will get my men ready," Sayf said, his voice thick with his native Khaslahar accent. The nomad was stopped in his tracks.

"No. We can't abandon the high ground. Go prepare your men, but not on their horses. You will take to the rooftops and windows until I make my move. You will know it when you see then." The Protos Kapetanos said, towering over the lean, short nomad. Sayf shrugged with his usual devil-may-care attitude, replying. "You are the boss. But if I see the heavens, you will owe me a drink when I see you there."

"And no doubt you'll drink me under the table." Brasidas Khalkós said as he walked out into the daylight, the rising sun touching his face and illuminating the town of Arbela and the men charging across its streets to better prepare. Once this city had been walled, but Brasidas himself had seen to it that was no more. Buildings made of stone, clay, and what timber there was were sturdy enough however, and they were situated on a great mound a dozen feet above the surrounding landscape. Shrublands and farmhouses covered the swathe of land surrounding the town, now all deserted to escape the Imperial army, who ironically were now the ones defending the frightened populace once more. Brasidas had given leave to send the villagers into the Citadel of Erbil for protection as the men fought upon the streets of the settlement. The Citadel could hardly live up to the name, utterly dwarfed by even a wing of the Imperial Palace in Basilos, but for the Ashvari villagers it was an impenetrable bastion.

"Loxos, Argyros, line your men up along the main road and set sentries at every causeway and street corner you can find. Keep clear of the citadel, and be ready to move at my orders, understand?"

"Yes, Archontas!" They said in unison, both turning to run in opposite directions to the east and west wings of Arbela. All the men including Brasidas had little sleep the last night, but in his experience it gave them the edge. They were tired, but crisp. Unused to the comfort of a bed, and now the steel of a sword wasn't so terrible as to shake them. They would do their duties and earn their rest after the fight. On the horizon, Brasidas noticed the rising of dust to the northeast, and he shook his head, breathing through his sculpted nose. "When is Tychos supposed to be here again?"

"Two days," Sayf said with a grin that showed his teeth. "Well, one day with this sunrise. Maybe the Panther woman will beat him here, yes?"

Brasidas snorted, knowing he referred to the Miravet woman, Phaedra. The Boreas man had at most spoken to her a handful of times in a professional capacity, and Sayf even less. She had an impressive military record, but it was difficult to say if she could pull off her great advance at the pace any of them had hoped. He supposed it was up to the Gods. "Do us a favor, if we live and you see her, remember rank." Brasidas said, then motioned for him to go to his men. Sayf did so at once, the nomad moving surprisingly quick on his feet for someone born on the back of a horse. Taking only one more moment to appreciate the warmth of the sun, he marched off to his company, donning his plumed helm, denoting his status as leader.

Brasidas was known as Khalkós amongst his regiment, meaning bronze skin. Both for the color, and his reputed invincibility in battle, some whispering as if his skin were actually wrought of bronze. He knew all too well that was false. The man boasted a build one might call 'heroic,' with a trim midsection of hard muscle and strong limbs, but he ached all the same, and the lines on his face showed the weariness of constant combat and campaigning since he was a boy. He wondered if his father was still looking down on him, and if he would ever live up to the man who died on that day at Mount Alkynos.

He mounted his warhorse Menelaus, the beast braying proudly at its master's familiar weight. Cataphract horses were another breed, built for strength and tenacity; able to hold up both rider, armor, as well as the horse's own armor, and still move with a thundering speed. As he readied his shield and matzoukion mace, the sun above pierced the town's minaret like a signal, and he heard a cry followed by the twang of recurve bows shot by the Protostate. Soon men and horses began to scream as arrows were traded midair, and from Menelaus he saw the first Kahreeds make it up the incline before they were skewered by the infantry formation; ten foot spears of ash and iron piercing into men and keeping horses at bay. Loxos pulled a man off his horse and plunged his spatha into his neck, the Kahreed having lost his helmet in the struggle. Another arrow hit the ground not twelve paces from Brasidas, bouncing harmlessly away. The man wished he could join the Protostates, but he had a duty with his Cataphracts. It was only when the sun passed the minaret did he roar out: "Lances!"

His wings readied their polearms, and those closest to him hefted their maces and broad bladed paramerion swords. Horses whinnied and the wind began to kick up, bringing the scent of blood in its wake. It drove the horses to new energy, and he realized the Gods were smiling upon them. Brasidas raised his mace, and behind him a horn blew, slow and loud across the emptied buildings. He kicked Menelaus forward, the horse cantering for a few paces before it began to run at a gallop. Two thousand pounds of metal and muscle rolled forward, with another three hundred cataphracts at his back. The horn had sent his men up front into the alleys and buildings, leaving the invaders at the bottleneck of Arbela's main street. Bewildered, they weren't prepared for the Imperial Cavalry as Brasidas bore down on them. Even with the cries and the arrows, he felt all was silent in the world until he struck.

His mace cracked the helm of a Kahreed Mamluk, and though he didn't see the damage, the man fell wordlessly from his horse. A saber passed across his cuirass of scalemail harmlessly, the Cataphract not pausing in his advance. He swung again, breaking the shoulder of a lost foreign infantryman, the horses behind him ending his cries of pain with their trampling. Like an avalanche they reached the mouth of Arbela, pouring down the slope and entering a fierce melee. Brasidas saw a cataphract fall off his horse with a sword in his neck as another felled a kahreed horse with his lance. With no more momentum, he dueled a scimitar wielding rider gracelessly, taking a small cut to swing his mace into the man's arm, shattering it. His next blow hit him in the cheek, blood and teeth spraying out. He then saw another duel between two cavalrymen, and he used his mace the only other way he knew how. He threw it, the metal head spinning until it gave a glancing blow to the Kahreed. He didn't see if it made the difference, as he felt himself getting grabbed, Menelaus rearing up in anger as its master was pulled out of his saddle by unknown hands.

"Die, craven!" An attacker shouted. He wrestled them even as he went down, taking out his knife and cutting into another man he bumped against. Blood and sand mingled with sweat and piss, and when he arose, three kahreed bodies were on the ground at his feet. All around him the battle was turning to their favor, but he knew it wouldn't be enough. He cut the flanks of an enemy horse, sending it screaming and galloping off until he caught sight of his steed again. "Menelaus!" He cried, running through the maelstrom to remount of horse, and finally he unsheathed his paramerion, sounding the retreat. His words were followed by the horn, and soon both sides struggled and tore apart, leaving the hillock of arbela to lick their wounds and assess the damage.

Brasidas and Menelaus were two of the last to make it to the top of the slope, and he turned to see the enemy army. He growled a curse, realizing they had fought perhaps a quarter of the enemy force. It had been a blow yes. But now it was going to be a seige. One that could last days, it seemed. Even as he lamented, Sayf and his men suddenly appeared like spirits of the sand, rounding the corner of the slope and firing off arrow after arrow at the retreating force, dancing around any pursuers that tried to about face before the main force could join them.

Brasidas shook his head. "Cheeky bastard."

Shields of the Empire

Boreas - A Northern Province of rough mountain folk, ruled by Chieftan Kings who pay homage to the Empire with soldiers trained in the Imperial fashion. They live in rough conditions and give reverence to strange gods, but they are known for their fierce loyalty.

Cataphract - Middle class landowners recruited into the Imperial army for military service, paid double the infantryman's pay and trained to fight in horse formations.

Ultoi Cataphract - Cataphracts personally employed by the emperor or a Dynatoi

Latinikon - Mercenary Cataphracts

Dynatoi - was a legal term in the Empire used from the 10th century on, denoting the senior levels of civil, military and ecclesiastic (including monastic) officialdom, who usually, but not always, also commanded considerable fortunes and landed estates.

Protostate - Imperial Infantry

Blades of the Blood Coast

Now all we need is @psych0pomp

and all of the new people @Greenie@Pagemaster@Lauder

to post! Don't worry, you got until highnoon friday, I'll say.

Fire Emblem: The Slumbering Goddess

---

Michail’s suggestion was a sound one. He was a fair duelist, but he needed less flourish and more finish, even in practice rounds. Kayden made sure to keep that in mind as he strode into his guild’s classroom, taking his regular seat since it was in the center of most of the other Eagle’s seats anyway. It would be a poor show to deliberate in their own classroom, and he found he was quite interested in speaking with the other students. As the servants came, Kayden took a mug from one of the tray’s as one of them sauntered by. He crossed his legs and leaned back, the prince just beginning to speak before he took his taste of the drink, until his mind caught up with him. Were all of the Black Eagles present? Something felt off, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

Rudolf sauntered in and collapsed into a seat next to Kayden. Four hours. Four. Whole. Hours. Casting that same spell over and over and over again. His one reprieve was that the spring heat of Gronder hadn't quite reached the peaks of the Oghma Mountains yet. Well, the icicles that kept popping up around him probably helped too, but the threat of being skewered might've induced more sweat than it prevented.

The next part of the class didn’t sound any more enjoyable. Sure, he got to sit down, but evaluating the future rulers of his nation would’ve been a daunting task even if he knew anything about them. He hadn’t watched either of their performances, and they probably never realized he even attended training. Maybe they’d forget he was there if he kept his head down well enough.

Unfortunately, he was also hungry, and the food that had been served only looked more appetizing on an empty stomach. Rudolf reached in for a sandwich as unassumingly as he could, only for his chair to creak quite noticeably. The boy’s face sunk into a flat glare, though not aimed at anything in particular, and he wordlessly turned his attention to his lunch in hopes no one would put him on the spot immediately.

“Oh, right. Sorry, Rudolph, I forgot about you.” Kayden remarked curiously, brow furrowing. “That seems to happen a lot…”

The Prince hailed over another servant with a sandwich, thanking them and taking one eagerly. Getting up early hadn’t bothered him too much, but hurrying through whatever breakfast there had been wasn’t optimal to him. He tried to not be irritable, however. Even if he thought their time would be better spent discussing their rival guild’s talents rather than their own. With a shrug, Kayden let it go. This would like as not have it’s merits as well.

“Rudolph, I’ve only spoken to you very little, but let’s start with you. You seem very much like the watch and observe sort. Start us off, if you would. Tell me what you think of my performance, and then I’ll tell you what I thought of yours, yeah?” Thankfully, he had already had Rudolph on his radar earlier this morning. Kayden was nothing if not sharp, even if he lost himself in his own ego sometimes. He had made sure to keep watch, so what better time to talk?

Rudolf winced as he was addressed, then perked up a bit to meet Kayden’s glance. He wanted to say he was used to being forgotten, but that would likely be interpreted as fishing for pity rather than a matter-of-fact statement. They really needed to have a conversation about his Crest when there wasn’t a Crestology expert looming overhead, waiting to nitpick all the half-truths weaved in with his explanation.

He had larger concerns anyway. What did he think of their performance? Nothing, really. At least not to the extent that he had paid attention, anyway. Those girls said Kayden was a show-off to the point of idiocy, but he couldn’t exactly say that outright to his future liege. Besides, he did better than Rudolf could. Veronica was a topic he didn’t want to broach with a ten-foot spear, but even with her usual… Veronica-ness, she was miles ahead of that one kid that the tall blond kept critiquing - err, was still critiquing, judging by the glares he could see being shot across the Blue Lions’ table.

“You were both… fine,” Rudolf mumbled anticlimactically, “Kinda showy, I guess. N-not that that’s inherently a bad thing. Um.” His voice trailed off and his eyes sunk back down to his lap.

Veronica had taken her seat without a word, occupying herself with a drink in an effort to avoid talking. She was still greatly heated from interacting with the stupid Deer from Deidru, and while she assumed she would eventually calm down, her mind had become clouded with the thought of wringing that moron’s neck. First, she’s nearly assassinated by the Lion, now this! Honestly, the academy experience was hurriedly turning into one of the more stressful times of her life, and not for the reasons she thought it would be.

She tuned into the conversation as Rudolf spoke, the only thing stopping her from scoffing being that she was emptying her glass. Placing it down, she leveled Rudolf with a disapproving look. “We’re supposed to be giving each other constructive feedback. Don’t hold back on account of the difference in rank,” She stated. “What have you to say about our techniques? Our stances?”

“Uh. Nothing?” Rudolf offered awkwardly, “They looked fine to me. You hit the target, so…” Was there more to archery than that? “And His Highness looked… superficially impressive. I mean, it could’ve been actually impressive too! Err- I’m really not good at this.” The boy quickly stuffed his sandwich back in his mouth to avoid digging his hole any deeper.

Useless. While she didn’t say the word out loud, her stare made it obvious. After a few seconds of staring, she simply let out a sigh. He wasn’t going to produce anything productive. Fine. “Superficially impressive is best left for ceremonies and demonstrations, not in battle,” She ended up taking one thing she agreed with and adding to it before giving Rudolf her attention once again. “I believe your magic lacks intent. You cast it simply because that was what you were told to do, there wasn’t any effort put into it.”

Rudolf offered no defense, and simply kept his attention on his food. She was right. Hypocritical and lacking any amount of introspective ability, but right. He guessed she really had been paying attention, then. The feeling wasn’t as pleasant as he would’ve hoped, but if Veronica had noticed, Professor Malathice definitely would. With luck, he was one horrible battlefield mistake away from being sent home in shame.

Kayden kept his lip buttoned for the moment, trying to give Rudolph some room to speak, which he supposed only let Veronica swoop in. Honestly, he didn’t know if he could have done much better, seeing as how Rudolph somehow managed to consistently escape his notice and he spent most of his time trying to avoid Veronica, even in the arena training. But he had managed to catch a few things, like his fiance’s manner. “She’s right Rudolph, taking the initiative is important. You’re a Black Eagle, you can do impressive things if you try.” He encouraged, and decided to turn to Veronica to continue. “And you need to stay calm and keep your ego out of the training area.”

Kayden might be showy, but he wasn’t actively antagonistic. “Even if they’re in other guilds, these are fellow students. Showing up Jorah or acting like you’re better than everyone else isn’t beneficial to anyone except your ego. I know some people here think I’m an asshole, but I’m trying to make sure that’s a mistake rather than the truth. You should too… As for your shooting, good job.” The last remark was lightly said, as if an afterthought. “I didn’t do as well I wanted. I don’t remember the form I was taught at court, but that’s what training is about, yeah?”

The Empire will likely quake when they marry, he thought sardonically.

The air got a lot colder around the table as Veronica looked directly at Kayden. Her gaze was empty yet sharp. A small smile formed on her lips as she took a fork, deciding to take a piece of fruit.

“I am better than everyone else here,” She stated outright. “Would you rather I hold myself back? Or should I lower myself so my classmates don’t feel bad about themselves?”

Kayden took a poise that would have suited an Emperor, staring at her back with all the surety he had. “I would ask you to be diplomatic, as an Empress would be.” He declared flatly. “Lienna I can understand. But unless someone gives you real reason to be abrasive, try to see it as... practice for when we’re married and you’re dealing with someone at court.”

“If I ever have to deal with that monkey in court, then I’ll make sure I am not around,” Veronica muttered, crossing her arms.

Kayden silently wondered if he could invite Lienna to court if the matrimony went through without a hitch. “Fair enough. And good job, both of you. All of you,” he said to his team. “If the Blue Lions meeting is any indication, we’re a step above the others so let’s keep at it.”

Rudolf opened his mouth to protest, but as Lienna stormed out of the room, whatever point he was about to make died in his throat. Okay, they were doing well comparatively. No thanks to him, of course, but they were doing well. The blond Lion’s mention of Crests left a sour taste in his mouth, which led him to shoot an apologetic glance in Kayden’s direction even if the prince probably had no clue why. As much as he hated to admit it, his House Leader being unable to contact him unless Rudolf himself initiated it was unproductive and detrimental.

“Um. Your Highness? We need to talk later. Privately,” Rudolf muttered, then frowned. That sounded weird. Or conspiratorial. Oh Goddess, what if Veronica thought he was plotting something against her?

Kayden raised an eyebrow curiously, and gave a nod. “Of course,” he said. He wouldn’t be much of a leader if he didn’t meet with his team members whenever they wished to discuss something. Subtly he glanced Veronica’s way to gauge her reaction, but kept his real focus on Rudolph. Whatever it was, he was certain she would be interested, unless she felt it beneath her to notice. “Let’s meet once the professors are done with us, wherever you feel is best.”

Veronica was all too aware of the noise happening at the Blue Lions’ table, mouth slightly ajar in a gleeful grin as she watched Lienna leave. No, she stormed out! Whatever happened, she greatly approved of it, her mood improving immensely. She wasn’t able to catch exactly what happened, but she’d be sending the finest drink to the redhead’s room at the first opportunity. She didn’t normally approve of such a ruckus, but if it meant an inconvenience to that bitch, so be it.

She turned back to the conversation to catch Kayden staring at her, at which point she raised a cup to her lips to buy herself a minute. “...yes, of course,” She said simply, clearly not having heard what the two were talking about and choosing to feign ignorance.

Lordship: A Hero's Legacy (Elle & Poo)

"By my right as the Duke of Arvannone, by the power granted to me by the King, and the by the will of the Gods, I summon thee to serve as Baron of Gavony! Rise to your station, Murtagh Drakenmoore, and be recognized!"

It was a surreal experience, being gifted the Sword of Galaden on this day, the day of Murtagh's coronation. He felt the weight of the sheathed blade in his hands, realizing to his surprise that it was not a broken heirloom, but a well forged sword that happened to be used for ceremony. He would be able to admire it later, but right now he was far more focused on Duke Saville, who loomed over him with his scepter, granted to him by the Bishop of the Holy Sepulcher. Murtagh rose as he was bid, his new sword now in his hands and his head held high for all to see. The view was overwhelming, and he realized he would have rather looked upon an army of brigands or monsters rather than people whom he might disappoint.

Among the Grand Hall of the Duke's Palace, row upon row and balcony upon balcony were filled with aristocrats and commoners, merchants and laborers, locals and foreigners. The chamber was hallowed, built with whitestone and furnished with tapestries of green and gold, and a red carpet that lined its vast entirety. As the music reached its crescendo, Murtagh was filled with a purpose that rose in his breast. Perhaps he had truly earned this, even if he felt unworthy. The golden light of the sun that pierced the stained glass windows shimmered on the silks of those that watched him, and he bowed before the congregation of citizens, truly humbled by this magnificent honor.

That was but two days ago.

Now he sat upon a horse, waiting patiently as six men-at-arms milled about and played dice along the road. Yesterday it had rained hard, and the humidity still caught his skin and made the road's a bit tricky. Had he not tamed the land himself (as best as one could), he would have felt it a dangerous journey. No doubt it always would be, which was why he was given the land, he realized. To keep it under control so that trade may pass through freely. He supposed his life as a Baron would not be too dissimilar as a sellsword...hopefully.

Murtagh had insisted on inspecting Skycrest himself, but by the Duke's decree, he had to bring his majesty's niece along. They had met once, briefly, and he recalled her in the crowd at the coronation. But otherwise she was a complete enigma to him. Pretty, smart, and assigned to help him. He knew a lot of lads who would have loved the idea of going to an abandoned keep alone with such a woman, but he was all business. This was the beginning of his legacy. He wasn't about to waste it on frivolity or a wandering eye. Murtagh was, if nothing else, goal oriented. It was how he got into his new position.

He heard another horse's whinny, and he turned to see his new companion approaching. He hoped this wouldn't be a long trip...

Poo's Partner Search (+18)

Thanks everyone for the DMs and the support! Will reply to people today and tomorrow *thumbs up*

Also if you still want to RP but haven't DMed me yet, you still got a chance ;)

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