α ωoяℓ∂ ∂єvι∂є∂ - Accepting/Open

[M3Gnificent]

{Sorry for the crap post. Really tired, bluuuh... crying }

Romhild, for the most part, did not know the names or faces of any important peoples in the land. She knew of certain prominant slave owners, the council seats, and perhaps an influential trader or two - but that was it. She could only hope her mannerisms and speach made her seem more educated and in-the-know than she really was. (At least she was not often put in a situation in which her illiteracy would be made obvious.)
"Very well. If there's any way I can make myself useful, please, let me know."

~*~

Aamira watched silently as the shady goblin and silent mercenary left, only heading to her private chambers to prepare for the 'shopping trip' after she had seen that they had both left the premisis. She realized that, if she were actually going to go through with this, that she needed to be as careful as possible. Aamira would have to act casual, to make sure that nothing seemed anywhere out of the ordinary. (At least, for her master's and fellow slaves' benefits.) She, obviously, would not wear her dancing uniform out in public. (That was only begging for trouble.) She would dress conservatively, probably with a comfortable dancer's outfit worn beneath so that she could practice her trade without having to strip naked or dress unfavorably during the journey. She would also bring a small purse of gold and the occassional small gem, since Aamira somehow got the impression that she would need every bit of it at some point or another before her return.

 

[Lord Zerix]

((Not a crap post at all. Besides my brain's fried too.))  

[SilentVex]

Vexrion walked on until he found a trail, then a fork in that trail. He knelt down on that corner and looked at both paths. One which would lead him to the Capital, and no doubt his own demise should anyone discover his identity there. The other, to his old village. His old home, where he would meet the same fate. But, he felt the need to return soon. He had lost himself somewhere, and he needed to find himself again. But, was going home the right path? And where was home? He couldn't help but curse quietly and hit the ground with a clenched fist before thinking again.

((Would someone like to help by playing the people in Vexrion's village? If not I have a back up plan.))  

[N K Cake]

Ahriman stood in his festival regalia, the one outfit he would wear at the moment signifying his rebirth, the final speech. He gazed at the tall mirror placed against the wall, and wondered if such an outfit would be at all beneficial on the battlefield. Image was important of course, whether it was to motivate your own soldiers or to demoralize your opponent.

The General turned to the two servants and nodded at them in greeting. It was regretful he had not been able to been present during their prayer. It was a unique experience and a sign of great worship to their Goddess. "This is the current design for the contemporary General's attire. I would have it on during the Speech of Rebirth." He explained. "Your honest opinion?" No one else would he allow to speak as they desired in his presence, except for the high countess... sometimes.

Ahriman slowly turned his masked face to a mannequin standing beside the mirror. "And of that one? It is the classic Warmage battle uniform." That he would wear at the start, then a slightly altered 'torn up' version.  

[greendragonfly52]

Being asked their opinion, the twin fairies hovered around their master, taking a look at the uniform from all angles. After a brief whispered conversion on opinion, it was Mia who spoke. "Master, you rebirth is meant to be a time of great strength, and of your resilience against a force as strong as death. With the goddess' aid of course. Might we suggest, wearing the plate mail torso of your gold armor instead of cloth? The gold armor would almost compliment the embroidery nicely we think, and would erase the need for ceremonial plate to be made." They didn't mention it would also be added protection for if he had to go to battle. The plate mail was alloyed, and specially made so it had the appearance of gold but was as strong as steel.

"As for the other one..." Cara spoke this time. "Classic. Don't change a thing. Though we would like to suggest your black mask to go with it. We believe it'll add a...ominous feel to the beginning of the ceremony. As if to foreshadow the depiction of your untimely death My Lord, before your rebirth." All in all, the seamstress and her team did quite a good job this year. Hopefully Ahriman himself would get to wear the uniforms. He would pull them off much better then any other put in his place.  

[N K Cake]

Gmurk took Gale's idea in good spirits. He would not want the whole group in the marketplace, considering how suspicious they might look. He would take the risk of trusting the half-elf to take care of it, as the Vul-infusco wouldn't trust the rest of the group to handle the package. "You can handle the girl, but I don't want any lollygagging, we're on a tight schedule so don't waste time. We'll be departing through the main surface gate." Gmurk replied to the man.

Any introduction between the newest addition to the group and the rest were not going to be very long. The whole lot were as suspicious and careful, if not more so, than Gale himself. Gmurk respected their privacy, and though he guessed most of them were out of guild activists, some probably even outlaws, he did not bring it up.

When the delivery was loaded up on the mounts, Gmurk went on to specify a new detail in their mission. A girl would be coming along. Some of them took this with interest, others felt, as Gmurk did, it could be bad luck. Bad luck as in the men would fight over her and bring an abrupt halt to their trip. Eh it should work out, there weren't enough in the group to cause a large issue.

With the horses and items ready, the men eager to go, they just had to wait. They would be leaving when the night shift switched for the main gate, as it had been prepared so that the new shift would take just a little longer arriving at their posts. Push enough money around and you get anywhere, just need to put it in the right place. That was the golden rule in Gmurk's profession, and it worked flawlessly.



~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~



There was a loud splash, and his head ached from the sudden cold. Wulthgrand bolted up from the ground and growled in frustration. The werewolf ruffled the fur on his head furiously, trying to get rid of the wetness. He slowly came to his senses and took in the immediate environment. Wulthgrand's eyes slowly went over the whole room. Where the heck was he now? The room was small and shadowed, the ceiling was made of cloth but the walls and floor of wood... and it was moving. He could hear the wheels creak and the occasional groan of effort from the animals pulling the carriage.

"Ah, you're awake. Now just stay still and don't try anything, and we won't harm you." Came the sudden voice of an unknown male. Wulthgrand lifted his eyes to see an Aterisan clad in desert traveling cloth. He was surrounded by two others who pointed with spears... Wulthgrand's expression turned sour.
"I ain't no f****ing tribesman, but you better return my package or I'll go savage on all your a***es." Wulthgrand complained loudly. He tried to put up a firm stance, but his injured foot betrayed him and, with a yelp of pain, the werewolf fell to the floor. Looking at his foot though, he found it bandaged. The werewolf gave a more curious look to the strangers now.

"See! I told you it was just a courier. You've been jumpy since you spotted that damn bandit, but as I told you we're perfectly safe." Complained one of the men with a spear in hand, and instantly lowered his weapon. He gave a quick nod to Wulthgrand before opening up the cloth covering the exit and jumped out. Wulthgrand caught a glimpse of the evening desert and several soldiers walking alongside the carriage. It must have been a caravan belonging to someone important, or a rich merchant.

The unarmed elf laughed nervously and scratched the back of his head. "Uh, right. Your package is safe, we put it in one of our transport carts before carrying you here." The man explained. He nudged the other guard and forced him to lower his weapon and then cleared his throat. "I'm Salu Promeirs, Grand Master of Shentzthuul's Merchant's guild." The elf introduced himself.

Wulthgrand cleared the wet fur away from his face and rubbed his eyes. He sighed and looked around before focusing on this trader. Totally called it. That of course meant he was probably the most important person around these parts. The outposts depended on supplies being delivered from the main cities until they were developed enough to survive on their own. As such, the merchant guilds practically ran the outer rims of the desert.

"Wulthgrand. I'm making a delivery of arms to the Guards in Shentzthuul." The werewolf replied. No doubt though that they already knew what he was delivering of course. They must've checked his cargo before they even checked his health - even if he had been passed out on the sands. There was also the fact that with the influence this elf held, he just might have made the order for these weapons with the guards.
"Err, thanks by the way." Wulthgrand spoke quietly and nodded to his healing leg and arm, both of which were feeling surprisingly well by now.

"No problem, friend." Salu replied heartily and grinned. It was a little funny being called his friend, yet the man appeared to fear even taking one step closer. "We'll be arriving in Shentz' tomorrow morning at our current pace. You can just relax."
Wulthgrand nodded and adjusted his seat against the wall of the carriage. The person was probably feeling guilty after having those weapons pointed at him and all. At least he was not being kicked out.

On the outside, the carriage Wulth was in was following a much nicer looking one. Over it's windows hung luxurious red curtains and the whole vehicle looked to have been made of sturdy dark wood. Both were pulled by several horses. Behind were two more carts, pulled by oxen and their contents well hidden by a large tarp placed over them. Human and Elven guards were walking alongside the entire caravan, a necessary precaution for any large delivery service.

"Captain, he's back." Called one of the human guards and his fellows, along with a more finely dressed female guard, looked over. In the distance, a figure had risen on top of a sand dune and was gazing their way. The person was on horseback, but not much else could be identified from so far away.

"Just ignore it. Those scoundrels would already have attacked us if they had the guts. They know we're too numerous to be challenged." The captain told her men sternly. A strong female Aterisan was not particularly hard to find, it was in the nature of all their people. The guards turned their gazes back ahead to the sands they were crossing.


In the distance, the horse rider turned and raced across the sands. He came to a surprisingly flat area of land, where at least thirty other horse-mounted men were waiting. All of them wore cloth robes on top of their armor and were clearly carrying weapons on their belts. A rather well funded group of bandits to say the least.
The rider approached a particular man at the front of the group. "They got the courier and the weapons. He's being held in the extra cart and the equipment in the last storage vehicle." He explained hurriedly.

"F**K!" The man he had addressed cursed loudly. "How the h*ll are we going to get paid when our target is being held by f****ing Salu and his men!" The apparent leader of the group punched the nearest man beside him, causing the victim of his anger to fall off their horse. "Our client expects all that weapon and armor by tomorrow, and specified that we should never let it reach Shentzthuul. That shortie will never give us a dime if we can't bring results." The bandits were realizing they just might have to give up on their contract and find other work. The issue was that the Vul-Infusco had promised top coin to receive those arms early. Bandit life was hard and they needed every coin they could get.
"What if we meet up with the Blood Fangs before tonight and together raid the caravan as they rest?" Another individual suggested. Several of their fellows murmured in agreement.
"... Aye, we ain't got another choice. I just hate dealing with those beasts." As the bandit group began to move, the gallop of their many horses rose sand clouds high into the air.  

[N K Cake]

Very well justified additions. Ahriman turned to the seamstress and nodded. "Make it so." He commanded. The seamstress in reply turned to a second doorway in the room and exited through it. After a few moments she returned, pushing along two armor stands - mannequins sitting on top of small moving platforms - and stopped them at the side of the room. One held the whole of Ahriman's set of golden plate mail, and the other his dark robe-armor, including his black mask.

The seamstress unattached the golden chest plate and knelt down in front of the lord, with her head firmly bowed down, eyes on the floor. She offered the piece to the man, holding it as high as she could while on the ground like she was.

Ahriman removed his elegant gauntlets and offered them for his servants to hold. His bony hands then undid the golden belts that held his cloth top in place and he pulled the garment off. He would have had the servants take care of it, but he had already put it on himself and knew how it came off. Ahriman's skeletal upper body remained hidden beneath a loose black undershirt. Finally, to make it easier to put the armor on, he removed the intricate golden mask, which he entrusted to the fairies' hands as well.

Ahriman now grasped the golden plate from the seamstress's hands. He lifted it high and lowered it past his skull to sit over his torso. Ahriman gave a glance to himself in the tall mirror before turning to his servants. He held out his hands, so that they could put his gauntlets back on, and the mask as well of course. After this he would have to try out the second outfit, with the black mask.

((While doing some armour research and stuff, I took a moment to colour this particular image. ))  

[Moonhera]

Elvin gave a long pout, the elf had more or less ignored him and he had walked off. It still also meant he had nowhere to sleep tonight. He started weighing up his options of how much he wanted to sleep outside or in the magician guild. Neither sounded that appealing. Frowning he floated back up to one of the roof tops and sat there looking out over the city. It was a high roof. Looking down he noted that he had landed on an inn’s roof and it gave him an idea. He had done it plenty of times before and it had always worked. He knew for a fact that his singing voice was not the best in the kingdom, it probably left much to be desired and even the worst singer sounded better when Elvin really tried to be off key and loud. He cleared his throat and started rocking back and forth, humming a tune to himself.
“Oh, the grand general of Mysto,
He had ten thousand elves,
He marched them up to the top of
The hill and he marched
Them down again.

And when they were up they were up.
And when they were down they were down.
And when they were only half way up,
They were neither up nor down.” Elvin said very loudly, so the people below could most certainly hear him. The best part was he could hear the others below chanting along with it, along with the angry cries of those people trying to get to sleep or those who had been fast asleep. He watched as people from the inn came out of the inn, either chanting the song or swearing at him. It was surprising how an out of key singer could get everyone who was drunk singing as well. He had a huge guess that the person that only wore inside clothes was the owner of the establishment. Oh and another great thing about being on a roof is that when people start trying to chuck things at you, it generally always misses you. Then again there were the odd one or two people who could throw that high and aim that well, others were lucky. He waited until the chanting drunks came to a slightly slower pace and the inn owners looked lie they were ready to go back into the inn, when he started back up again.

“Oh, the grand general of Mysto,
He had ten thousand elves,
He marched them up to the top of
The hill and he marched
Them down again.

And when they were up they were up.
And when they were down they were down.
And when they were only half way up,
They were neither up nor down.” Elvin chanted smiling, starting the noise back up again. He had been known to carry on until the small hours of the morning without rest break, but he hoped it wouldn’t have to come to that. He really didn’t, there was snow and he had never tried to do this with snow on the ground. The drunkards could react very differently and leave much earlier than planned. Although they sounded quite far gone, so he might be safe.  

[greendragonfly52]

Mia and Cara immediately took the armour as it was offered to them, to ease their Master's burden in trying on his uniform for the festival. When he took off his mask, the girls noticed the seamstress flinch slightly at the rare sight of momento mori staring her plain in the face. The twins however didn't make any indication of surprise or fear seeing the General's true face. They had seen it so many times before because of their work with him. At first yes, his face would startle them and they would need to look away so he wouldn't notice. But now...not even a flinch.
When Ahriman was clearly ready to have his gauntlets and mask back, Cara and Mia went on either side of him and helped him slide his hands back into the metal gauntlets. Lastly Mia handed him back his mask. "Much better my lord. Take a look for yourself." Mia said as she pulled over the tall standing mirror so that Ahriman might be able to judge for himself.

It was at that moment, that Cara heard a sound be carried in by the winds. Singing.....bad singing at that, mixed with the sounds of shouting. "My lord...excuse me a moment. I believe I hear a disturbance outside the palace..." She said quickly. "Mia, I won't be long, promise." That was the best part about the times when both sisters were working. If something came up, one of them could leave.

Cara hovered out of the room, leaving Mia with their master to investigate the noise she heard. Following the winds, Cara fond herself hovering over the palace, facing the direction of the inn. On top of which, was a fairy, and the source of the out of key singing.
"Are you out of your head fairy?" Cara asked once she had approached the man. Though Mia had told her about the visit from the magicians guild, Cara had no way of knowing this was the same fairy "Sir, please quiet yourself. Your causing public unrest. A crime the guards would see silenced." She warned. It was only then, that she also happened to notice, he was hardly wearing any clothes. "And also sir...public drunkenness is also no tolerated. I suggest you find your clothes and sober yourself up." From his actions, Cara could only assume the male fairy was drunk. Why else would one be sitting half naked, singing out in the cold, horribly off key, causing an uprise from the tavern's patrons.  

[Lord Zerix]

Walking among the colorful stalls of the bazaar the half-elf had to keep a close eye about him for any possible matches to the steed he had in mind. Ideally a horse was a horse no matter where he went to buy one, but experience had taught him the painful reality that he needed a mount sturdy enough to survive travel from scorching deserts winds leading to the more temperate domains of the flatlands that marked the boundaries between the two great continents, and then of course one strong enough to withstand the mountainous roads that would be the penultimate setting for the adventurous band. Soon enough he came towards a promising horse stall, his dark pupils lighting up at the sight of two handsome prospects. The first choice was a natural born courser, a tempestuous rich brown stud with fire within his gaze before neighing angrily at him. His stall was first on the left and placed right next to the mixed breed draft horse, a durable beast mostly used for farming and heavy labor in spite of its breed often used for showing off as well. This second horse was a nice mix of healthy red mare and a light tan riding steed, the combination making it a very nice choice all around.

Admittedly at a loss for the second horse Gareth recognize a natural application for his new purchase; the dancer most likely did not have access to a horse for herself. Nor, should he come to think of it, much by way of survival training and patience for the road. Keeping her priorities firmly implanted in his mind the swordsman quickly negotiated the bounty of his endeavors for yet another jewel; this one a covetous rich blue peridot, small in size and oval-tine in shape, but ample compensation for half a dozen equines let alone two. "Keep the change." He was unusually generous this evening it seemed, giving away two precious stones within the course of a few meager hours. Then again he attributed the upsurge in his financial habits, ordinarily cheap and scrounging over the smallest of purchases without ever overpaying more than his due, to the good mood he had over the girl and the goblin. Could his life get much sweeter short of staining his hands in elven blood?

Coming back to reality he soon grabbed the reins to the two horses to pull them out of their respective domiciles, stepping closer in one of his more reckless stunts to rest his hand on the courser. Ssshhh. I am a friend. Though he did not speak such words, neither aloud nor via his thoughts for he was no psychic, his ancestry seemed to quell the anger in his chosen pet for the fury flared away almost instantly at the sight of his sylvan ears. Gah. Just what I need. An elf's horse. Ah, but he is still a fine one. Better to make due. Thinking over what to name his new companion he motioned for the clerk to bring forth a set of leather saddles, hardy sculptures meant to withstand the slow decay of weather changes as much as possible, and then proceeded to fit them modestly close to the beasts' chests. Nodding to himself he slid naturally onto the warhorse's back, gently guiding the draft behind him on the way to look for the dancer. She was in for quite a fortune at this rate, the way he kept spending on her...His lips curved into an amused smile for how he was buying for an absolute stranger at best.  

[Moonhera]

Elvin looked at the female fairy and tilted his head; she looked exactly like the person that had stood behind Ahriman but her attitude was totally different to what he had seen before, which meant that she was the other twin. It was noticeable, not in appearance but apparently in tone. He had caught the voice of twin number one earlier.
“Ah so you’re the other one. Twin number two!” he said floating up, avoiding a well-aimed bottle which skidded over the roof and landed in a dust cloud of snow on the other side. He floated around Cara looking at her, like he was analysing her. “Hmm, you really do look like your other half. So all the stories were true, but why are you such a grouch?” he said, doing circles now as the keepers went back indoors along with the rest of the drunkards. Elvin noticed that and made a long moan. “Aww! I was hoping to get a room out of them. Now I have nowhere to sleep. You really are a grouch.” He said to Cara floating higher to see if there was anywhere else to sleep. “Second, I dress like this anyway, less baggage for when travelling around and third I’m not drunk, I am a master at getting things I want when I’m not being disturbed in my practice.” He said, giving a long pout, everywhere else had seemingly gone to sleep, he had started rather late in the evening. “And I am not going back to the magician guild, word will get back out that I am back and I’ll have old friends of my parents bugging me to settle down and not travel. They don’t stop. Which is why travelling is so much fun.” He said sitting down on the roof again looking at Cara. “What you going to do? I lost my place to sleep now, unless you’re saying that I should sleep out here and that would be mean.” He said with a pouty expression.
 

[M3Gnificent]

In the hustle and bustle of Samiel's marketplace, with a numerous amount of citizens going to and fro for business and pleasure, there should be no doubt that finding one lone person would be difficult. That is, it would be were that person anyone other than Aamira. Even in as vibrant place as this, she still stuck out like a diamond in the rough, dressed in conservative yet clearly extravagant silks of various vibrant shades of red. Were one to closely look at the hem of her long skirt, the edges of her sleeves, or even the border of her protective cowl, one would see intricate golden embroidery almost suited to a moderately loved Arcanisan house servant. If there were any doubts about her being the favorite before, they should now be long gone - especially if one knew that this was one of her less expensive outfits.

Considering her enviornment and upbringing, it was a wonder that she didn't try to bring her entire wardrobe and half of her prized possessions for the upcoming trip. There was no doubt that she'd have little tolerance for the uncomfortable wilderness or almost no survival skills, but at the very least she was trying to think practically for what was to come. In a moderately small backpack, which she often used for her weekly shopping trips, she carried only what she felt essential - a comb to keep her hair tidy, some expensive bath oils, a bottle of perfume or two, a spare dancing outfit, a small purse stuffed to the brim with gold and small gems, and perhaps two or three pairs of expensive shoes to make any sort of foot travel easier. ...Perhaps she brought a bit too much and not enough survival essentials, but she was on the right track. Sort of.

 

[N K Cake]

((That is amazing for an MS Paint sketch.))  

[M3Gnificent]

{Thank you. :3}

 

[N K Cake]

When Ahriman was clearly ready to have his gauntlets and mask back, Cara and Mia went on either side of him and helped him slide his hands back into the metal gauntlets. Lastly Mia handed him back his mask. "Much better my lord. Take a look for yourself." Mia said as she pulled over the tall standing mirror so that Ahriman might be able to judge for himself

Ahriman flexed his gloves fingers before taking the mask and securing it over his skull. He turned to the mirror when it was pulled nearer and took a moment to gaze over the outfit. He could judge it only as looking red and gold, it was very thorough in covering him and came with numerous close details. The servants stated their liking for it and that was good enough.

"It is acceptable. Next." Ahriman stated calmly. He took off the outfit, handing the pieces out to the seamstress who fitted them in place onto a spare mannequin. Ahriman was left in a simple short sleeved top, revealing his arms of worn, white bone, and long dark trousers.

The seamstress handed over each piece of the warmage uniform, and Ahriman pulled it on. The top, the bottoms, the boots, the gloves and finally his dark mask. Ahriman then pulled the hood over his head and turned to the mirror. The memories of past conflicts were faint and foggy, but still there. He had been through much as a mortal man in such a get-up. In fact, it was the last thing he wore as an Elf.