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D A V O R D E L ' T R E U S E


"Whoa, whoa! We're peaceful. We're here to help," Davor says, putting his hands up in surrender. As soon as the guards come up hostile, the rest of the Cesadan troupe do the same. "We're a peace treaty of sorts. Border protection, is all." The weapons were sheathed, the horses dismounted, but kept at their sides, as instructed. "If this really was a legal trip, we just do what they say, and we should be fine." The group continued their way into the hall, each of them rubbing their faces off of the sweat and ash of the day's journey. 'If they wanted to kill us, they'd do it already. This war was bigger than I thought, though. Much bigger. I have to catch up on some reading!'

They peruse the folks on the street. Davor found it quite remarkable just how easily the folk managed to bounce back from their past circumstances. It was quite impressive, really, the tenacity of this humble port town. 'Cesada can use this sort of tact,' Davor thought to himself. He watched as he was staring at people staring at him, much like how funny-looking zoo animals look at the passerby. As the roads grew more sparse and the ground changed to flooring. The troop found themselves led to the courtyard, where the guards told them to wait. And wait they did, for the iron fist of the local government. How lovely!

C Y L O R E I S S A R


...The sound of the vibrant lute struck upon the girl's ears. A tune of inspiration, one she knew well, lyricless at best. However, she was not one to let down an audience, not ever! Her form shimmered with change, and from legs up to the head, her form fluttered and shifted into that of a pure white heron, which took to the skies, and began to mimic the tune, the tone slightly lighter and more vibrant in motion. The bird began to dance in the skies, offering support to the troops who needed it.

Once the commotion was over, Cylo took the time to rest. She laughed to herself that there was, in fact, a place for music in all this conundrum; another person was using it, too! She was giddy at the heart, and felt as if she had done a good deed today. She walked around the area, looking for any sign of any leftover folk which may need help, anything possibly troubling and/or interesting to the cause.
@Redneckatron WE MAKIN BATTLE MUSIC
D A V O R D E L ' T R E U S E



"Hey, you guys! Get off the streets for a sec!" Davor shouted, as he released an arrow aimed for one of the pirates. "I'd appreciate it if you guys stayed behind the horse!" He advanced, his own retinue rushing ahead to meet the squad of pirates. "These guys look like Anarcans to you?" he called out to the large, armored lancer in front of him. "No, sir! These ain't no Anarcans at all!" "Perfect! Attack freely!" Davor yelled, as he continued to fire, and his retinue rushed into the fray. Davor turns and grins at the two figures, one white-haired, one black-haired. "Heyya, friends! D'you got any idea what's goin' on here? It'd be much appreciated!"

As another pirate is downed, it seems that more seem to come. The retinue forms a defensive position, shields in front. Another wave of five or so pirates could be seen rushing towards them from the horizon. Davor continued to fire arrows, while the rest of the troupe stayed grounded, yelling their war cries, advancing ever so slowly.

C Y L O R E I S S A R


Cylo continued forward, eventually finding more Estalan guardsmen. This was it, it seemed. She began softly, projecting her voice louder and louder as she continued to run. Eventually, when she was close enough to them, she continued her voice to a sound crescendo, sending waves of refreshing energy throughout the group. Her voice was used to invigorate the guards in this scenario, and even through the confusion of a celebrity apparently aiding them in battle, they pressed on, holding their own against the pirate waves.

Her voice needed a refresh. She stopped for a bit, and ducked into an alleyway, still very much close to the guard, maybe around fifteen feet or so. She caught her breath, and took in the sights of the area. Fire, dust, ash and falling concrete. The sounds of metal against metal, and the crashing of cannonballs onto the shore, Cylo felt slightly overwhelmed. She inhaled deeply, and entered back into the fray. After all, heroes don't find themselves waiting around for trouble to catch on!
@Astrolia "You misunderstand, it is I who will be doing the robbing"
SHE'S VERY PRETTY
I just realized that when everyone's talking we could probably form a rainbow of just text color
D A V O R D E L ' T R E U S E


The continuous stares between both the citizens and Davor's retinue were just about enough to get Davor uncomfortable. They strolled through the streets, hoping to find some official to answer to, particularly of the Estalan crest. As they made their ever slow gait throughout the Port, Davor noticed the increasing amount of attention the Laguz were paying to their group. "Perhaps it may be due to the whole 'slave trade' problem we've got going on," Davor's guard whispered. He pondered the thought. Man, it really was a bad situation.

Then again, some Laguz are bad people, too. "Stay vigilant, boys. We've got to find--" Davor falters, the familiar "DING, DING, DING" of an emergency bell. The group watched as the citizens ran away from an apparent conflict, and guards shouted "PIRATES AND ANARCANS!" repeatedly.

"...trouble."

"Here we go! Everyone, stay close! Our main goal is to assess the situation! If you find trouble, notify me immediately!" Davor barked, and the group set off for the rising stack of smoke, horses running at a careful speed, weaving through crowds of people on their way to the center of town. This seemed to be it, this was what they were sent here to do. Davon rode ahead, leading the charge.

It took him a minute, but Davor was eventually able to get to the center of town. He looked around, and his crew began their search for anybody, friend or foe. A few of the squad made their way through rubble and broken facade, helping the Estalan guardsmen herd the people to safety. Davor facilitated the steady extraction of possible hostages in the area, while flames licked the sides of buildings destroyed. "Hello! Anyone there?" he continued to call out, in hopes of a response.

C Y L O R E I S S A R


Equipped with her most rugged dress and donned with her most protecting hood, Cylo makes her way into Port Sesta, with a curious feeling of familiarity to this place. She took in the fresh, salty air, and shielded her eyes at the brightness of the sun. She decided to simply hold her scarf, it wouldn't do her much good in this weather. This was where it all began for her. A celebrity, an advocate of Beorc-Laguz peace, stepping out into the fray. All she had to do now was look for a job to accomplish.

A couple of looks were thrown her way as she walked the street, looks of disbelief, no doubt. She stuck out like a sore thumb; while everyone was dressed in their workman's clothing usually shades of brown and gray, here strolls a random woman, dressed in the finest of white garments, with a face familiar to most as a sort of celebrity among the masses. "You're Miss Cyrei!" a child no older than six exclaimed, in his schoolboy outfit. She could only smile and nod. She really was doing a good thing, she believed.

The serene sounds of the working morning were soon defiled by the sound of a heavy bell. Moments, later, crowds rushing out of the center of town. Wide-eyed, Cylo made an immediate dash for the center of town. Rumors had been spreading of a possible pirate war, and from the guards' exclamations, they seemed to be true. She ran as quickly as her robe could take her, before being abruptly stopped by a guard, holding a line of civilians, a ways away from the trouble.

"I'm sorry, Miss... Cyrei?" The guard stood, obviously shocked, "...But I don't believe it's safe for civilians to be around this area! Please vacate the premises immediately!" Cylo knew that the guard was just doing his job, yet she knew that she could do something. She struggled her way closer to the action, obviously being held back by the guard, when she managed to utter a soft, whispered sliver of a message, "...I can help."

"You can?" The guard asked. She nodded. She knew something was off about her singing. It seemed to do more than entertain, it seemed to have some other property to it that she hadn't figured out, like a bard's musings in fairy tales, or a siren in ghost stories. She had a difference, and she felt in her gut that this, indeed, was where it would be applicable. She stared the guard deep into his eyes with determination. With a reluctant "...suit yourself," she began her way into trouble.
NEW CHARACTER BEFORE RP CONTINUE NANI?? I started drawing her before I drew Davor what am I doing

D A V O R D E L ' T R E U S E


"All aboard!" was what the captain said, about an hour ago. Aboard the shining white vessel, a small militia from Cesadas, with the intent of observation, border defense, and foreign aid. The storm was brewing; big troubles across the Thanatian Sea, and the aid sent by Myre as a sign of goodwill and self-defense, as the document stated. A pirate war, inferred to cause large scale difficulties in the long run for any countries affected, if not quelled immediately. Davor stood on his balcony, reading the document over and over. The war council spoke among themselves, full of ideas on what they may be facing, and disgruntled opinions of the people of Estala.

Davor loomed over the waters they were cutting through. "Estala, huh? Aren't we at a rough spot with these guys? Pig on a stick, we fought a war with them for a long time. What the heck are we doing here?" he asked out loud, eyes gliding through the text one more time. An officer shuffled up to Davor. "I mean, yeah, it's pretty rough, but who are we to decide? Pirate war's eventually gon' creep up to us, and we'd be too late by then to stop it. Chancellor's just makin' sure we ain't gettin' to that point," he coughed, as he leaned on the railing. The two gazed out to the sea, to the horizon behind it. 'A fair point,' Davor thought. He sighed, and stretched out his joints. 'Oh well. Family business has ties here, I guess I've got my own reasons. Besides. People are people! There's a whole variety of them, it's not like being Estalan is their sole trait, after all. Maybe we'll be fine!' He continued to pace the meeting room, absent-mindedly scanning the paper, again, again...

"LAND HO!" yelled the captain. The boat slowed its gait as it approached the dock of Port Sesta, the Port City of Estala. The crew and passengers readied their gear for departure. Davor sat in his room, awaiting the signal to leave, spending the time maintaining his bow, and keeping account for all his gear: armor, documents, his vulnerary, and of course, his bow and arrows. 'Alrighty. Just a new town, is all. We've got this. I've got this.' With a triumphant swing of the door, he gazed at all the faces of his comrades. They've made it. "Alright, boys," he exclaimed, "...Here we go."

The group stepped off of the boat. Immediately, they noticed just how bright the sun would glean off of their armor. Many folks stood guarded, as their squad certainly stood out from the rest of the crowd. Soon enough, their horses were brought to them: lithe, black steeds, armor polished, regalia shined. Davor mounted his own steed, and stared at the cautious faces of the town. No words seemed to come out from his mouth. For the first time in a long time, Davor had nothing to say to the crowds.

It was there he noticed. Many a man, many a beast. Laguz, roaming the streets. Their bestial forms, mingling freely with the folks, a sight not seen (nor particularly welcomed) from almost anywhere else in the world, especially not in Myre. His movements were slow as he turned to face the rest of the crew, obviously uncomfortable by the same sight. They've all fought at The Shield before. They know just how dangerous these people can be.

"...Onward."
A Branded, that's new
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