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Post by Richter Abend on Jul 14, 2015 19:20:16 GMT -6
It was early morning, and the light of a new morning sun was gently peering into the small village tavern. The dining room was empty, save for one, pink haired Ilian who sat at a small table next to a window, blowing on his hot barley tea and watching the steam rise up from the mouth of the mug. He tried to take a sip, but withdrew his lips just as the touched the lip of his cup. Still too hot. Gah, this is why he usually stuck to cold drinks, but barely tea was a favorite of his. The Ilian sighed and looked out the window.
The oppressively tall peaks of the southern Ilian mountains rose high above this sleepy little village. Spiny snow tipped peaks stretched up and up, as if trying to touch the very sky itself, while the rolling foothills crowded around them, aspiring to one day become mountains themselves. Here the grass ceased being green, instead favoring a brownish hue, readily marking the land where the plains ended and the harsh north began. Richter looked back to his drink. He bit his lip. These mountains were unforgiving and cruel, and the men that traversed them took their lives into their hands, and he was not traveling alone.
While it was the safest, most commonly traveled route into the northern country, traversing the Frolov Valley would have delayed their journey by weeks, maybe even months if the weather turned poor. In contrast, the Carrhae Pass was not an easy route. It was not safe route. It was, however, the fastest way to get to Edessa. But even now Richter was second guessing his decision to take it. People died traveling this route, and the general rule of the thumb was to only brave its steep slopes and icy winds if absolutely necessary, which left Richter asking himself that question: was this absolutely necessary? He knew Etruria would invade, though he knew not when or where. They could invade months from now. But they could invade tomorrow. In fact, for all he knew, the invasion had already begun. That made time of the utmost essence. Yes, this was the right decision. He needed to reach Edessa. He needed to convince the lords to turn their eyes towards Etruria. He needed to rally his people. There was no other choice for them, he just needed to make them see it.
Richter put his drink up to his lips again, touching the tea with his tongue. No burn, but still warm. Perfect. The commander took a long sip and looked back out the window. People died on this pass, he realized that, and this was not a decision he had made lightly. If his companions chose to join him, it would be of their own accord. They would cross this mountain range, they would speak with the Ilian government, and likely they would risk their lives fighting in battle. But regardless, he could not turn back now. The engines of war had started to churn, and when the drums of battle began to sound in the distance, the Winter Lion would not be not far behind.
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Siegfried Aschdenne
Mercenary
"You can never end a cycle of hatred with death. So long as there's life...you can start a new one,"
Posts: 54
Profession: Freelance
Affiliation: Ilia
Guild: Ulfric's Mercenaries
Affinity: Fire
Profile: Siegfried Aschdenne
OoC Alias: Siegfried
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Post by Siegfried Aschdenne on Jul 14, 2015 19:53:44 GMT -6
Siegfried was silent as he trekked his way towards a small village. He had caught a rumor on a wind that a certain man had arrived at the village not long ago. A famous Ilian, perhaps one of the most famous Ilians currently living. His name was Richter Abend, whose feats and prowess were known to many across Elibe. Siegfried himself had heard of the man and happened to have been in the area. It wasn't often one had the opportunity to meet people of such renown, so of course Siegfried had figured it would be worth the trip.
He had left a mere day ago, but it was not so simple. Ulfric had misgivings about Siegfried's idea of meeting this man. According to Ulfric, Richter was a man who tended to get himself involved in wars and battles of "political nature". The moment he brought that up Siegfried knew what sort of warnings he would be receiving from his boss. Ulfric was a man who, at all costs, avoided aligning himself with any side. He was a man who barely considered himself an Ilian, and put his status as a mercenary and his sole allegiance to gold.
But Siegfried followed him because Ulfric knew better. The man had strong sense of morals and a calm head to balance it out. Siegfried respected, admired, and envied Ulfric's ability to make decisions for himself and for the company. So Siegfried wasn't angry when Ulfric warned him not to get involved in anything of the sort. Siegfried was certain it would be little more than a visit. After all, a man such as Richter, The Winter Lion, was probably too busy to spare the mercenary even one word. Right?
When Siegfried finally set foot into the village he gazed around. It was still quite early on in the day, so there was little to no activity to witness at the time. It was quiet save the gentle howl of the wind.
The mercenary made his way through the village before spotting what was, undoubtedly, a tavern. If Richter truly was in this village he could think of no better place for him to be. So Siegfried entered, his heart beating just a bit faster than usual, and he scanned the interior of the tavern. Sure enough, sipping tea by a window, he saw an older, pink haired man. There was no doubt in Siegfried's mind that the man was indeed Richter.
"Good morning, sir," Richter greeted politely as he made his way towards the man. Again, his heart did beat a tad quicker, but he wasn't truly nervous. More excited if anything else, "Might you be Richter Abend, the Winter Lion?"
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Post by Richter Abend on Jul 14, 2015 20:27:16 GMT -6
"Good morning, sir. Might you be Richter Abend, the Winter Lion?"
Richter looked up as he was addressed, spotting a blonde-haired youth standing just next to his table. The Ilian took a second to glance over his visitor’s shoulder, then around the room. Nope, still not a soul in sight. It seemed that he had been snuck up on. So Richter looked back to the young man who looked… excited? Why? Had he just come down from the mountain? Was he celebrating and looking for a drinking buddy? No, he didn’t seem tired enough for that, but the only people in this sleepy foothill village were the villagers, who didn’t waste their time in the tavern, and travelers, and Richter was damn sure nobody about to go through the Carrhae Pass had any reason to be excited.
“Er, yes,” he said, slowly nodding his head. This was like Nayru all over again, only Richter was entirely sure that this kid was not secretly Aerious, or Marcus, or whoever transformed to look and act like someone completely different. Man, getting recognized by complete strangers was something Richter would never get used to, and it was all the more uncomfortable in a remote corner of the world like this one. He wasn’t in armor, and Boreas was sitting up in his room with Rilcha, so that left identification by gear out of the list of possible ways he had been sighted.
Was it the hair? Richter knew pink hair wasn’t the most common thing, even among Ilians, but he had to imagine that any passerby seeing a man with pink hair wouldn’t immediately assume that the person was Richter Abend. Now if none of the aforementioned were true then that left only one option: that this young man, for one reason or another, had followed him and tracked him down. If so, that was impressive, given they'd only been in this village about a week waiting for the weather to clear. It was also a bit annoying.
“You need something?”
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Siegfried Aschdenne
Mercenary
"You can never end a cycle of hatred with death. So long as there's life...you can start a new one,"
Posts: 54
Profession: Freelance
Affiliation: Ilia
Guild: Ulfric's Mercenaries
Affinity: Fire
Profile: Siegfried Aschdenne
OoC Alias: Siegfried
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Post by Siegfried Aschdenne on Jul 14, 2015 21:36:26 GMT -6
“Er, yes,”
Siegfried was honestly more relieved that he was correct as opposed to excited. He had made asked a rather bold question without any merit. The man did fit the description Siegfried had heard of, but he could have been wrong in his guess. He likely would have been laughed at if he had actually asked an average Ilian if they were Richter. 'No lad, I'm Kenshin of Sacae! Get it right'. Japes such as that, no doubt.
“You need something?”
"Oh, I don't need anything. I just heard a rumor that you had come to this village and I happened to be in the area. I wanted to see for myself if that was true," Siegfried explained with a smile. The relief was fading away and a bit of that initial excitement crept back. At the same time, however, Siegfried didn't really know what to say. You don't approach a stranger, ask them if they are who they are, and then follow up with 'How are you today?'. At the same time Siegfried didn't really want to question the man about anything specific...
No, that wasn't quite true. Siegfried did have a question for the man.
"Though...do you mind if I take a seat?" Rather than wait for an answer, Siegfried sat down across from Richter. He figured it would have been awkward to continue standing as he was. "I am curious about the what happened at the City of Heroes, if you wouldn't mind sharing a little bit. I've heard a few tales and whispers of the event in Lycia and even here, in Ilia, but they tend to vary when it comes to the details,"
Siegfried paused, then chuckled softly, holding his hand out across the table, still smiling brightly, "Apologies, I forgot to introduce myself. My name is Siegfried Aschdenne,"
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Post by Guinevere von Altenburg on Jul 14, 2015 22:22:47 GMT -6
Guinevere awoke in her room with a yawn. It had taken her a few days to get used to sleeping in a bed again, after spending so many night on the hard ground. But once she had gotten used to it, she had started to sleep better than she had at any point since leaving Lycia. Sitting up in her bed, she stretched her arms out wide and was rewarded with a nice sounding pop. She pushed herself out of the bed and onto her feet. Looking out her window as she strode across the room, she noticed how early it was. At this time of the morning, she guessed that the only one in their group that would be up would be Richter. She tended to be an early riser, but that man was up before her every morning.
As she reached the side of the room where her bag lay, she began to shuffle through it for something to wear. Her armor was propped up against the wall next to her, her lance leaning next to it. But in a place like this, armor and weapons weren't something you needed constantly like some other places. Even Richter had taken to going armorless. Instead, she opted for a plain, pale pink dress. Granted, it might be too cold in a place like this for such attire, but once they headed up into the mountains there would little place for a dress. Plus, it was a nice chance of pace to wear one instead of pants for a change.
Once she had slid the dress on, Gwen pulled on a pair of socks too. She'd come back later for her boots if she decided to venture outside the tavern, but for now she wasn't planning on bothering with them. After a few quick strokes with a brush to make her hair look half way presentable, she made her way out of her room and down towards the dining area where she would often find Richter. To her slight surprise, she not only heard the Commander's voice, but another, mystery one. Curious as to who besides their group and the tavern workers would be in such a place so early, she made her way into the room to see a blonde haired man standing in front of Richter. Interesting. As she walked, she grabbed one of the tavern workers she had become friendly with and requested a cup of tea. Guinevere then made her way over to the table as well, sliding in a chair to Richter's right. "Morning."
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Mavick
Seer
Little Strategist
"The Darkness... It consumes me."
Posts: 208
Etruria Fame: -2
Sacae Fame: 1
Affinity: Dark
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Post by Mavick on Jul 16, 2015 13:32:15 GMT -6
Mavick turned over twice in his bed, somewhere between asleep and awake. After several frustrating minutes of internally debating whether to get up or not, the tactician finally dragged himself away from the warmth of his blanket to get dressed. The Ilian cold did not bother him as much as it had, considering the length of time he had spent here. Almost frozen to death out here, in fact. One day, when this was all over, he would have to trek up that mountain again, and visit that old woman. Until then, though, he had to keep himself, and Richter, alive.
The Ostian mage splashed his face with cold water to help shake off the sleep, before he began to adorn himself with several layers of warm under robes. Finally, he adorned his purple outer robe, and took a moment to smooth it down. A tactician needed to look presentable, after all. He ran a few fingers through his hair, pulling at knots, before smoothing it down as best as he could. Presentable enough, he supposed.
Still somewhat groggy, Mavick made his way out of his room and down the stairs. He found Richter in the dining hall, along with the blonde woman that had also decided to follow him, and another man he did not recall in the slightest. Rubbing his eyes, the dark mage started towards them, pausing to order a hot cup of tea from one of the serving staff. That would help him wake up and warm him a bit as well. "Good morning, Commander." he greeted, pulling up a chair at the table, glancing at the new face. "A new recruit?"
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Rilcha Winters
Novice
"You can't beat the princess of beets. It's like beating a puppy, you just come away feeling awful."
Posts: 36
Profession: Richter's Fan Club President
Affiliation: FanClubAnon LLC
Affinity: Light
Profile: Rilcha
OoC Alias: Mel
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Post by Rilcha Winters on Jul 16, 2015 23:11:25 GMT -6
A shrill screech pierced through the air followed soon after with a mighty crash that echoed through the tavern, the surface of the tea rippling gently in response.
There had not been any unique expectations that Rilcha had drummed up when he finally drew the courage to examine Richter's weapon more closely. With the elder male out of the room he had felt free to move about without judgement, and after poking about here and there he finally had set his gaze on the mighty axe. There had been no hesitation in his movement, fingers curling around the handle as he struggled to lift it up off the floor. He wanted to see what it was like even for just a moment, to be as strong as the Winter Lion himself, and how far he would have to reach to even be able to stand on the same footing.
The shock that ran up from the tips of his fingers froze him in place, skin growing flushed as icy spears stabbed into his skin with rich nipping pain. He had barely lifted it a hairsbreadth off of the floorboards and his arms were already aching from the weapon's ungodly weight, yet somehow his fingers were so stiff that the boy couldn't possibly relax them enough to allow the axe to slip through his fingers. He bit his lip, raggedly sucking in air through his teeth whilst mossy hues widened in fear and panic overtook him.
And then with the screech his legs had turned to ham and he'd fallen back into the end table, fingers growing lax as the weapon was wrenched from his grip as it wedged itself into the floorboards. His heart slammed into his chest, a frantic exhale and an inspection of his fingers assuring him that he was just fine. He would have almost liked to believe it was just his imagination, yet the flushed and frozen digits were more than enough proof of it's effects. The boy shoved himself to his feet, quickly stepping around the axe as he shoved his hands up into his armpits to warm and slipped out the door.
He wasn't sure what he was going to say when questioned about it just yet, the usual fear of Richter raising his voice quite prominent among the others, some boarding on the ridiculous. The thought of being chased by the enraged man brandishing weapons in both hands was certainly terrifying, or even being shoved into a pot full of boiling water to warm up and think about poking his nose where it didn't belong. If anything else, Rilcha succeeded in coming up new ways to be afraid of the man, and it was quite the talent in itself.
The boy slipped into the dinning hall with his lips pursed into a trembling line, soft curls a mess as he swept the room with his watery gaze and made his way over towards the group. They were huddled around a small table by the window, and without removing his fingers from the warm comforts of his underarms he jostled a chair over with a foot and joined them. Guilt was blatantly plastered across his face, and though he refrained from speaking even a mere greeting. Rilcha was tense as always in the presence of someone new, the blonde stranger sitting among them the beacon of his momentary discomfort.
He sneezed, once, twice, withdrawing his hand to rub his nose on his sleeve while he sniffled and cocked his head over his shoulder to watch the staff.
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Post by Richter Abend on Jul 17, 2015 15:51:19 GMT -6
Richter didn’t respond immediately. A rumor? Since when did rumors spread so quickly? Apparently in a little village like this one there was nothing else to gossip about but the comings and goings of whomever was brave or stupid enough to attempt the Carrhae Pass crossing. Was this going to be a regular occurrence, strangers approaching him looking for stories? It seemed that the real casualty of the siege wasn’t going to be his arm, but his anonymity. The commander sighed.
"Sure, go ahead."
The pink-haired Ilian casually gestured towards the seat in front of him, the seat the newcomer had singled out. The Ilian thought about making a point of mentioning one of the other two dozen seats Siegfried could choose to sit down in, but he knew a veiled dismissal like that wasn’t all that discreet. He had the choice to be polite or to tell him to piss off, and since he had decided to be polite there was no point in being uncouth about it.
Not a word was said in response to Siegfried’s introduction. No, Richter just nodded and took another sip of his tea. He’d gotten up early just to have some time to himself, so the younger mercenary would have to give his senior some time before he felt ready to indulge curiosities.
“Morning.”
There came Guinevere’s increasingly familiar morning greeting. Richter gave her a brief look and responded in kind as the blonde woman took a seat next to him. Was everyone waking up early today? So much for his early morning peace. “Morning,” he said with a simple nod. He gestured towards Siegfried. “Guinevere, Siegfried.” He gestured towards Guinevere. “Siegfried, Guinevere. She's my bodyguard.” The pink haired commander smiled at the blonde haired woman, then took another sip of his tea then leaned back in his chair.
“So, City of Heroes, hmm?” he muttered, again looking out the window. "Why would you want to know about that?" To be honest, when he wasn’t currently in the middle of one, Richter preferred to think about his battles as little as possible. War was messy, and it was violent. It was easier to just to take that part of him, those experiences and memories, and lock it away; compartmentalize, rather than constantly dwell, otherwise he became angry, vengeful, and obsessive. Was that the most healthy way to deal with his emotions? Probably not, but he wasn’t looking for peace or absolution. Not just yet anyway. One day, maybe, but right now the anger and the rage were the fuel he used to keep throwing himself at Kraft. He needed them, he just didn’t need them tormenting him all the damn time.
“It was bloody, I can tell you that much,” he said with a dark chuckle. “A lot of good men and women died. Less than the bad ones, though, thankfully.” Richter shook his head. “Or do you just want to hear about the mon-” He cut himself off as he saw his magenta haired tactician approach with an ever dour look on his face. The smaller man also pulled up a seat alongside the other three at the… two person table. It was getting a little bit crowded.
"Good morning, Commander. A new recruit?"
Richter looked at Mavick and shrugged, not really sure what to make of this Siegfried fellow. He looked back at the blonde haired man. Had Siegfried come to “join the cause”? Would that be how this conversation ended? He'd have to see. “This is my tactician, Mavick,” said Richter, before taking another sip of his drink. “Mavick, this is Siegfried. Apparently there are rumors of my arrival here, and they are already spreading.” He yawned, stretching his good arm out as he did so. “I thought we’d managed to stay relatively-”
“AIEEEE!”
Richter jumped in his seat as a shrill cry and a loud bang sounded from upstairs, spilling his tea all over him. "S***," he cursed as the hot liquid soaked into his jacket. With a scowl on his face he looked up at the ceiling. At first it was nothing but silence, then... footsteps. The commander didn’t say a word. He just listened, his gaze following the sound of the footsteps until they produced the diminutive form of Rilcha at the top of the stairs. The boy's hands were tucked tightly into his armpits, and he walked with a look that signified anything but innocence. Richter couldn’t help but eye the boy suspiciously as the latter took yet another seat next to the only currently occupied table in the tavern.
Of all the people on this trip, Rilcha was the most out of place. The boy had insisted the Winter Lion take him to Edessa because he had wanted to join the fight, to stop Kraft, and to learn how to be a fearsome warrior like Richter. As ridiculous as any of that sounded, in what had clearly been a moment of weakness most likely predicated on the fact that shrill boy had taken care of Richter while he had been injured, the pink haired Ilian had said yes on the condition that Rilcha take care of himself just like everyone else was expected to. Even that, however, was starting to seem like a mistake.
“What did you do?” the pink haired warrior asked with no small amount of annoyance in his voice. He spotted a small amount of blood staining the boy's shirt just below where his hands had been tucked. "You're bleeding."
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Siegfried Aschdenne
Mercenary
"You can never end a cycle of hatred with death. So long as there's life...you can start a new one,"
Posts: 54
Profession: Freelance
Affiliation: Ilia
Guild: Ulfric's Mercenaries
Affinity: Fire
Profile: Siegfried Aschdenne
OoC Alias: Siegfried
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Post by Siegfried Aschdenne on Jul 18, 2015 15:38:48 GMT -6
Siegfried was patient as he waited for Richter's response. It was early in the morning, after all, and it wasn't as though Siegfried himself had anything better to do. He had made sure to clear an extra job just make sure Ulfric wasn't too annoyed by his absence, and already gave the company their share of his earnings from the job. He was sure they'd be more than happy to spend it, either drinking away or whoring.
"Morning"
Siegfried glanced over and blinked. He saw a, frankly, stunning woman in a simple dress approach the table and take a seat. As Richter responded to her Siegfried did the same, uttering a simple "Good morning". Siegfried then blinked as Richter introduced the blonde lady as Guinevere, his bodyguard. Well that was quite impressive. She must be quite the talented fighter if she was bodyguard to Richter.
"Well met, miss Guinevere," Siegfried said with a smile and a nod. A simple good morning was not sufficient for a woman of her position. He wanted to be polite and friendly to Richter and his comrades since, after all, it was Siegfried that was intruding on whatever morning rituals they may have.
Richter asked Siegfried why he wanted to know about the Siege. Siegfried had to think on his answer for a moment. Why did he want to know? It was really the only thing he wanted to hear from Richter about. It was likely because it sounded close to those epic scale battles in history and myth, and yet it happened this year. In his lifetime. Not being a part of it himself, Siegfried at least wanted to know what happened. Not for childish excitement, but because it was most certainly an important event.
"I want to know what happened because it sounds important. An event that should be known by all of our time," Siegfried answered with a nod. "Besides that, we never know when something similar may occur. I may not have been there for the siege, but if such evil make itself known again in Elibe, I wish to be present lend my strength against it,"
He then let Richter start to speak of the Siege itself. No real details had slipped out, and before the pink haired man could truly get into it their table received another individual. Siegfried studied the short man that joined them and noted with amusement that he, truly, looked as though he had just woken up. This short man asked if Siegfried was a new recruit, to which Siegfried chuckled. It would have been an honour had that been the case, but Siegfried of course was simply here for curiosity's sake.
Richter introduced the short man as his tactician, Mavick. Siegfried nodded and, like Guinevere, greeted the man himself, "Well met, sir Mavick. I have never met a tactician before but my boss had always considered hiring one,"
Before Siegfried could respond to how he heard the rumor of Richter's arrival to this village, let alone before Richter could finish speaking about it, they were interrupted by a shriek. Richter spilled his tea over himself and Siegfried himself winced and blinked in confusion and surprise. There was silence as Richter seemed to follow the sound of footsteps with his eyes. Curious, Siegfried did the same, his gaze slowly following the sound until it reached the bottom of the stairs.
From the steps descended a rather small, young boy, with hair a similar colour to Richter's. This boy said nothing and seemed rather tense or disturbed, for some reason. Siegfried couldn't fathom what the problem was, or how the child had managed to make such a loud sound by himself. Still, not only did the child not introduce themselves, but Richter didn't introduce him like he had done with the others. The older man was clearly annoyed at the fate of his tea, so Siegfried decided to take it upon himself.
"Good morning, young sir," He said with a kind chuckle, "My name is Siegfried. May I ask you of yours?" Siegfried did notice that the boy was bleeding, but Richter had already called attention to it. He didn't feel the need to do the same, though he did wish he could help the boy.
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Post by Guinevere von Altenburg on Jul 19, 2015 12:38:21 GMT -6
Guinevere couldn't help but smile back as Richter introduced her a his bodyguard. It honestly was comical. The big, strong, brooding Winter Lion being guarded by her. She was sure Rayl would get a kick out of that. She gave a nod to the newcomer, whom Richter had introduced as Siegfried. "Pleasure to meet you, Siegfried," she said with another smile. Technically, she could have corrected him that it was Lady, not Miss, but it wasn't something that often bothered her. Plus, the last thing she needed was having Richter give her grief about it. She then gave Mavick a small nod as he approached the table as well. She hadn't talked much to the Little Strategist, but she knew Richter respected him and that was enough for her.
Gwen jumped in her seat a little at the loud bang and scream from above them. Her first reaction was to curse herself for not having her lance with her, assuming they were under attack. But when she took a second, they were the only ones here, so that couldn't be right. The only other one in the tavern was... Rilcha. As she thought the name, the boy appeared at the top of the stairs. He appeared to be hurt, between holding his hands under his arms and the blood that Richter pointed out. If only the priest Remus had still been around, he would have been able to heal whatever had happened. She was curious as to what had actually happened to cause that bang, so she stayed quiet to hear what Rilcha said.
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Mavick
Seer
Little Strategist
"The Darkness... It consumes me."
Posts: 208
Etruria Fame: -2
Sacae Fame: 1
Affinity: Dark
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Post by Mavick on Jul 20, 2015 12:28:06 GMT -6
Mavick looked between Richter and the newcomer with lidded eyes. "Yes, hello." he greeted in response. Socializing had never been his strong point, even before. He seemed more devoted to staring at Siegfried with an expression not unlike that of a man purchasing livestock. Not the most attractive way to blatantly stare at someone, but it wasn't necessarily far off from the truth. He looked like a strong young man. That he was Ilian netted him a few extra points in the tactician's mind. He would make a good new recruit.
The scream made the dark mage jolt ever so slightly, bringing his attention to the ceiling much as it did everyone else's. There was only one other person up there, and Mavick knew it. Sure enough, Rilcha came down, hiding his hands under his arms, trying to look like nothing had happened. The Tactician watched as Richter spoke to him, and when he pointed out the blood, Mavick's eyes were drawn to it. Why was the boy hiding his hands? Yes, it was cold, but still. Mavick got up and stepped around the Commander, staring at Rilcha with his semi-vacant stare. "Show me your hands." he ordered, holding his own hands out, palms up.
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Rilcha Winters
Novice
"You can't beat the princess of beets. It's like beating a puppy, you just come away feeling awful."
Posts: 36
Profession: Richter's Fan Club President
Affiliation: FanClubAnon LLC
Affinity: Light
Profile: Rilcha
OoC Alias: Mel
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Post by Rilcha Winters on Jul 20, 2015 20:46:29 GMT -6
The annoyance in Richter's voice was taxing on the boy's nerves. However, against his numerous paranoid daydreams as usual there was no dreadful retaliation against him from the man. He hadn't even come out and said what he had done just yet, but now that he had already overcome the first hurdle of facing him the next few would grow far easier. The boy at least was sitting there, and was comfortable enough to approach him without standing in anxious contemplation until he was called over in exasperation. Rilcha was improving, no longer quaking in his boots and looking like he was just about to piss himself when addressed by any member of their small party.
His gaze lowered to his shirt, the small and freshly vibrant stain taking his notice now that attention had been called to it. There was no recollection of receiving an injury there, but then again in the flurry of limbs as he fell back there was really no way to be sure. Yet, there certainly was a slight throb to the skin beneath the stain, though he had no intention of lifting up his shirt then and there to investigate. It would stop bleeding soon enough, and he could inspect it afterwards. But now that he had made his way down into the dining hall he was not in any way going to leave without filling his stomach. It was only a scratch?
"I..." he swallowed, looking between the stern warrior and the bright blonde young man who had extended his greetings with wide eyes and quivering lips. Rilcha wanted to ignore the stranger, Siegfried, but he had introduced himself so politely. If he was someone Richter was acquainted with he had little choice, not that he felt as if he was being placed in a position where he was being forced to do so. Even with his constant fear he still trusted the man, and if Siegfried was sitting there amongst them there was no harm to be meant.
"G'Mornin" the boy addressed to the table, finally offering a proper greeting as he slowly adjusted to his place among them that morning. "Rilcha" he addressed to the man, answering his query and taking care not to mumble or turn his face away while he spoke. There was nothing that could stop him from instinctively avoiding his eyes, inspecting the grain of the table as he withdrew his hands from beneath his arms and offered them palms up to Mavick.
The soft pads of the boy's fingers shone dangerously, along with the inner knuckles of his thumbs. The skin was unnaturally smooth, firm, and without a doubt likely to swell up in the next few days as harsh blisters formed. Frostbite was certainly a formidable foe, and his chest tightened in embarrassment to have shown himself to be untrustworthy to Richter. He certainly was trying to do better, but he was well aware that it was not his best and incidents like this were very blunt reminders of all the slack he had to make up. The skin prickled as he gently attempted to curl them, and he forced himself to swallow any sounds of pain whilst the tips of his bare feet tapped rhythmically to the floorboards as a distraction.
"I erm..." he raised his eyes and peered intently over Richter's left ear, as close to meeting his eyes that he would come to for the moment. "I picked it up, and went and..." His chest heaved and he sighed and swallowed, gathering up the energy to continue. "And fell a lil' bit." The boy pursed his lips and sharply breathed in, biting the tip of his tongue for a moment to steady himself "I won't do it again?"
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Post by Richter Abend on Jul 29, 2015 15:32:41 GMT -6
He’d been screwing around with Boreas? Idiot kid. As if the axe wasn’t dangerous looking enough as it was. Rilcha should have listened when Richter first warned him not to touch it, but it apparently took bodily harm for him to realize that Boreas wasn’t a toy. That kind behavior would get him killed if it kept up. Not all mistakes left you around to learn from them. The Ilian thought of yelling at the boy in frustration, but decided against it. It seemed like Boreas had already taken the liberty of teaching Rilcha this lesson, and it wasn’t like Richter had never made a similar mistake when he had been younger. A more youthful Richter had always wanted to play around with his brothers’ weapons. Yes, those weapons didn’t contain an angry ice spirit, but they were dangerous nonetheless. Now that didn’t make Rilcha’s disobedience any less frustrating, but it at least made it more understandable.
So instead of lashing out, Richter took a deep breath, calming himself, and with a nod of his head motioned for the timid boy to comply with Mavick. Rilcha did so, then apologized for his actions, stating he would refrain in the future, but judging by his tone of voice Richter wasn’t so sure. “Make sure that you don’t,” said Richter, his voice low but not outright aggressive. “It’s not like I warned you for the axe’s sake.”
But since Mavick seemed to have the situation handled, the pink haired Ilian turned his attention away from Rilcha and back to Guinevere and Siegfried. “Anyways, as I was saying, were you just looking to hear a monster story?” Richter asked, an eyebrow raised. He motioned to take another sip of his drink, only for an empty cup to meet his lips. He scowled. That’s right, he’d spilt the rest of his drink all over himself. The Ilian thought of looking for a cloth or something to dry his clothing off, but figured the liquid would dry on its own. So he pushed the wooden mug aside and leaned forward, placing his elbows on the table. “Because frankly, I’m not very good at stories. Bandits attacked, then seven days later Hargus crawled out of his hole. He turned into a demon man, turned his men into monsters, and resurrected the dead. We still won.” Richter gritted his teeth then ran his thumb horizontally across his stomach. "I gutted the bastard, then a wyvern rider dropped a lance through his skull. That was the end of Hargus." He then turned his gaze to Guinevere. “I don’t know, do you have anything else to add? I’m not exactly sure when you showed up.”
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Siegfried Aschdenne
Mercenary
"You can never end a cycle of hatred with death. So long as there's life...you can start a new one,"
Posts: 54
Profession: Freelance
Affiliation: Ilia
Guild: Ulfric's Mercenaries
Affinity: Fire
Profile: Siegfried Aschdenne
OoC Alias: Siegfried
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Post by Siegfried Aschdenne on Jul 31, 2015 10:03:46 GMT -6
Guinevere and Mavick, Richter's comrades, returned Siegfried's greetings back to him before, like himself, turning their attention to the boy. While the lady was silent the short tactician asked that Rilcha show him his hands. Siegfried now felt a touch guilty, the boy had just received three different bits of attention from three different people all at once. Perhaps Siegfried should have waited for this moment to pass to introduce himself, but he only did so in the hopes of making the young lad feel more comfortable. He looked so nervous, anxious even.
Still, the boy did respond to Siegfried's greeting and gave his name to boot. Perhaps Siegfried had done a good thing when it came to his greeting. There wasn't much sense in lingering on it and though Rilcha seemed injured these wounds were nothing severe. Apparently they came from him playing around with Richter's axe. Certainly something foolish, a boy his size would be better off not trying to lift an axe without supervision, but it was a situation Siegfried could have seen himself in when he was younger.
Richter then turned his attention back to Siegfried and his questions. He gave a rather blunt response, but Siegfried hadn't exactly been expecting a grand tale. More the opposite, if anything. It wouldn't be long before that entire battle became a bard's song. Siegfried had wanted to hear the events that would inspire that song's lyrics.
"Not a monster story, no, just an actual account on what happened, however brief it may be," Siegfried replied before smiling, "And you've done just that already. It's nice to hear the honest truth about a battle rather than the twisted rumors and exaggerations, at least from time to time,"
It wasn't anything too special but it was a personal satisfaction for Siegfried. He may not have partaken in this particular battle but at least he met someone who had, and got their word on what happened. If he ever heard a drunken warrior sing along about this battle to the tune of a bard's lyre he could chuckle knowingly and drink to it in silence. A silly pleasure, Siegfried knew it, but one he couldn't help but take in.
Though he didn't exactly need more information Richter had turned to his bodyguard, Guinevere, to see if she had anything to add. Not one to be rude Siegfried decided to stay quiet once again and give the lady his full attention.
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Post by Guinevere von Altenburg on Jul 31, 2015 12:19:06 GMT -6
Ah, Commander Richter still had such a way with words. Others would spin a long, drawn out tale of all their heroics in the massive fight. Richter, instead, went the we fought and I killed him route. He never was one to use more words than necessary. She gave a little shrug when he directed the conversation towards her. "I have nothing. I didn't arrive until well after the battle had ended." Having said that, she had a twang of guilt that she hadn't been there for the fight itself. Granted, she had been busy in Lycia at the time and had arrived as soon as she could, but it still left a bad taste in her mouth. Thankfully, Richter had survived, but maybe she could have saved others.
Gwen was slightly concerned for Rilcha, due to whatever injury that he had sustained from trying to do something with Richter's axe. However, as there wasn't much that she could do for the boy, she gave him some space and let the others figure out what to do about it. The most she would be able to do would be to try to comfort the boy, but she felt as though getting his injury healed was more important. Instead, she stayed close to Richter. While she had no reason to be suspicious of this Siegfried, she was still the Commander's bodyguard. Even in a sleepy, snow filled town like this, she knew she couldn't completely let her guard down. Enemies could be hiding anywhere, and she wouldn't let anything happen to their group because of her own incompetence.
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