Spirits of the Earth

It always started in a dream....
...in a world that was dark and dismal....


All consuming ....
....and black.

And they always started the same.  He felt suffocated, ready to drown, unable to breath when the voices came, crawling against the air like insects that hummed and croaked and laughed into echoes.  Sometimes he even felt the voices, as if they were crawling against his skin, tickling into his mind and even curdling within his blood.

But ever since the night his father died-
Was it death?

..or murder.
None could say...

but ever since that night the dreams had come, haunting him with memories so wicked and so real that he'd wake up, drenched in sweat, his heart nearly pounding from his chest.

.............


......


This morning was no different.


Calent awoke, eyes wide and sweat dampening
his face and hair. He was staring up at the ceiling where the first rays of
light began to peek through the curtains and glaze the stone ceiling with
color.

Sitting up in his bed, he wiped his brow with the back of his hand and had to
pause, the haunting memories chilling him to the bone. This time he woke up
before he killed his father, but the same images still scarred him. The blood
was warm when he cut his throat and after that, he could never remember what he
said or what had happened, except he had been alone, or so he thought, but it was never really clear to him who else was there... and if there were
others there in the room when he had done the deed...

Now, they were either phantoms in his dream...
or ghosts.

The dream had started off as an argument between he and his father. His father had
discovered his secret- that he had gone to the Fell.  Even in his weakened state, his
father had the strength to lecture him.
"You don't understand, it's ancient..."
"But I am no mage," he heard himself growl, almost like an animal.
"Those relics you brought back to kill mages..."
"They will do the job." he heard his voice echo. "They have to."
"They will kill you in the end. And you will be no better than they."

Then he'd feel it, the pulsating rage within him growing hotter...
his vision blurring, his skin burning as if on fire...

Then nothing.


But it was a dream, wasn't it?
He couldn't have killed his father.. why would he? And the Fell...
he couldn't even recall if that had even been real.
It had all happened so fast..
the rage,.. the anger..
He wanted nothing more than to kill that man, that pathetic mage who enchanted his betrothed...
and carried off her heart...

Yes, it was clear, even when he knew he couldn't remember- they said he must've passed out from the blow...

But he knew in his heart...


Gherrick had killed her.
And that mage would pay.
And all other mages would pay for their taint.


Clutching his hand, he looked down at the mark burned into his flesh. He couldn't recall how he got it, but in his dream of the Fell, he had seen the symbol before-
a black and red sun.

He studied it now against the yellow rays of sunlight, until he heard a knock at his door, and was quick to slip his hands beneath his blankets.

"Yes?"

"M'lord, the tax collectors have arrived."

Calent went silent a moment, brooding over his dream before answering.
"Tell them to wait for me in the great hall. I will be down shortly."

The servant nodded and left.

...............

Something wet was on his hand, he examined it by lifting his hand up towards the
light. He was no longer in the dream but it was so real that a single, warm
salty tear now ran down his finger. He stared at it against the light coming in
from the curtains, and it took in the honey color of the sun before he used two
fingers to brush the tear drop away, quelling it from his memory as he sighed and stood up from the bed and moved over towards the window
and parted the curtains.
In came the morning light, and a fresh cool morning breeze across
his bare chest.

he closed his eyes, and enjoyed the sounds of the morning birds calling across the gardens.
His private quarters over looked the gardens in the rear of the
castle and had a fantastic view of the mountains off in the distance. It was
mornings like these he was glad for it- for the visions of nature was always
calming to him.
He took a long moment to drink in the sights and sounds, letting his mind drift
away to those dark visions once again....

The people of the duchy weren't the only ones who were unsure who killed his
father and on mornings like this, the guilt was almost consuming and far too
real to be just a dream....
But was it a dream? Was it really just a nightmare? Was that really what
happened when he blacked out? He assumed one of the knights had rushed in- for
he thought he recalled that, and it was those personal high class knights of his
father who came in, shouting and yelling that he had killed the king...

And of course, when he came to, dizzy from awakening from the darkness he had
fallen; full of rage- rage of his father's death, rage of the unknown, that he
of course, shouted back and the knights who remained were caught up and
executed...
For now, most of his people believed the knights conspired against him, but he
had no idea what to think...
They had been loyal for so many years.. had it really been they who had done this?
It seemed even his trusted General Serenus had been shocked over the news.


He took a moment to examine his hand, recalling in the dream when his father had seen the symbol and called him 'a curse'...
'you're cursed..'

Was he cursed? Or had he drunkenly got himself a stupid tatoo that night?
But why one of a blood colored sun?

Little seemed to make sense, and had the dreams not felt so real, he would ignore them...
and if the dreams weren't so persistent too, he would have ignored them.
But the dreams had become a part of his everyday life...
and it had become increasingly harder and harder to sleep at night....




But life had to go on.
His servants had come and gone, and he was freshened up and dressed for the day.
How many months had passed since his father had been gone?
Perhaps he should go to the graveyard...

When he was left alone, he stared once again at the symbol on his hand, before wrapping it up and hiding it beneath a pair of black, silk gloves and he left his room and met and talked about taxes...

But something was eating him inside, so he sent word to The Hunters,
and that was all they were called..

He wanted them to meet at his father's tomb by night fall.



There was much to discuss.

It was raining when Emery got there, a great torrential downpour made only worse by the fact that it was windy on top of it all. Instead of falling down, the wind blew the rain horizontal until it rendered her hood useless, until the thick tree she stood beneath may as well have not existed at all for all the shelter it provided. So there she stood, beside an old man's grave as water whipped into her face and soaked her to the bone, jaw clenched to try and control her chattering teeth.

She certainly hoped his lordship had not canceled this meeting due to the weather.

Lightning split the sky and thunder answered several seconds later, a crackling rumble that made her horse dance nervously. With a sigh, she rubbed the mare's nose to soothe her--and then paused and rolled her eyes upward toward the branches hovering over her.

Lightning. Tree.

Right.

Taking her horse by the reins, she lead them both out from under it and into the full force of the rain, not that it made much of a difference.

Whatever she'd been summoned here for, it had better be worth her time.

His boots pressed softly into the soggy ground, the chains of his horse and dress jingling through the whirl of the storm.  He had worn a cloak, but as it seemed, it did him little good as he made his way towards the foggy figure standing amongst the graves.

Duty compelled him, so rain be damned, as it pelted him chillingly across his face and numbed his toes that were emersed in rain soaked within his boots.  Pausing before Emery, he tapped his boots aside and gave nod to her, then glanced over his shoulder to stare at the rainy world around them.

Then, turning back to her, Zannrick spoke in greeting, "Pleasant night." He said with a slight, but rigid bow.  His horses breath puffed into white whisps in the air beside him as lightning illuminated their forms before a crack of thunder snapped over head.  He ignored it and merely stared at her.

He wondered how long she had been waiting. The duke had mentioned to meet him by the grave.  His horse moved uncomfortable, prodding at the ground at his side.  This had better be important, was all he thought as he stared over his shoulder, but still, there was no sign of the Duke just yet.  He hoped he hadn't been detained, or, as Emery's feared, the meeting had been cancelled due to...
More thunder rumbled over head, the roar so fierce it shook the ground.

Zannrick whipped off his hood, shaking his head as droplets of rain came dripping from the ends of his rain soaked hair.
"How long do you think before he comes?" the man asked, hoping they wouldn't have to wait all night for nothing.  After all, he and the woman were an elite brand of hunters....

Lest time be wasted on a useless meeting..
there were better things that could be done!

As always, Zannrick looked annoyed, but that was his perpetual expression he always wore,a nd not just the rain that pelted them.  In their idleness, his eyes went to the former Duke's grave, just as lightning illuminated it in a flash of yellow light.  As all graves were, it indicated the equality of men through their mortality- for it was the destiny of all mortals, men and beast alike.   Death was the ultimate end.

As the stupid amount of rain pelted her face again and again, the little lady waited on the tombstone. Not a tombstone in particular or of any value to her, but she really hated mud, in fact, she muttered to herself just that. "Stupid mud...why can't rain turn dirt into candy canes or something?" She looked to and fro the road, waiting for a carriage or something, anything that can transport her. She was, after all, pretty loaded. Mageslaying paid well. Avaritia thought back to how this all happened... she was hired to slay a Mordecai, not any old Mordecai, but a witch-lover. This is the worst kind of Mordecai, and one she was all too glad to take only a 25% advance on. After all, this is one of those missions she didn't even need to be paid for. The Mordecai was expected to come across this road and meet two other Mordecai, though it would appear she was had. Night's almost over and still nobody...

"Oh?" she muttered to herself, "could that be my disgusting little birdie?" she smiled wickedly and waited for the man to continue in her direction. "Hello hello! Arosou!" she shouted at him, half to get his attention and half to greet him. Her eyes had not betrayed her. This was neither a magic-user nor a Mordecai. "Dammit..." she muttered to herself. Her habit of muttering to herself finally hit her, "I'm talking to myself..." she muttered to herself, "that can't be healthy, maybe I've finally gone mad." The strange girl shot back up at the man, realizing she was talking to herself right in front of him.

"Who are you?" she cooed, looking him over, up and down, then licking her lips. "You're a cute one, but what brings you here? Here to meet Mordecai? Maybe a mage?" she rambled, hoping this was her target and the information was just wrong.

Calent had been delayed- and this time he couldn't blame taxes. No, other abhorrences had held him up, abhorrences he'd rather not discuss as his boots squished heavily in the mood, his cloaked body, well slicked from rain and barely saving him the grace of it's cold waters.

The graveyard was not too far. Emery and Zannrick would be waiting, he had also summoned a third party, an outside source he was hoping to joint he ranks of an ever growing elite strain of mage hunters and well....

He heard something, or rather someone as he lifted his head up to note the rain soaked figure of Avaritia Tyrennius.  He was barely within the gates of the graveyard, which was massive in it's expanse, and had little patience for this woman if she wasn't to be part of his secret game.  His dark, green eyes narrowed upon her.

"Who is asking?" he simply asked, appearing to almost scowl at her from beneath the shadow of the hood of his cloak.

"I am, cutie!" Avaritia yelled in response "Well, tell me if you do find any Mordecai. I'm one too and he's somewhere around here! He loves magic-users so he has to be put to death, alright?" her eyes stared right into his, checking for anything unusual, any knowledge of this. Even the lack of anything could give her a reason to kill him.  Avaritia jumped down, splashing in the mud and muttering, "shiiiiit I hate mud..."

Calent's face wrinkled in confusion. Was this woman mad? Outwardly preaching about death but well.. as his eyes scanned the area, his shoulders settled and he lifted his chin with confidence.  It seemed no one else was around anyways.  His meeting was also a private business and this woman...
she could be the third wheel he wished to procure however...
He did not have time for her shenanigans.

"I still need a name," Calent barked his order, his tone commanding, if not as cool as the rain. He did not wish for out siders to interfere with his plans and as of right now, he didn't trust her until he knew if she might be whom he sought-
though again, by her words, it would seem evident she was the right woman-
He still wanted her name as he studied her sharply.

Avaritia wrapped her arms around him and moved close to his ear, whispering, "Avaritia Tyrennius." Her eyes watched his again, though the rain was so dense, even now, so close to him, her abilities to detect his lying would be restrained. She couldn't even find out if it was Mordecai he was meeting, only that he was meeting two people. If this was the man she was hired to kill, then somebody was about to leave the stove on too long. All the same, she expected a response, since her name was fairly well known. She had quite the bounty for dozens of murders, mostly of mages who had not yet used magic or mordecai, and was a confirmed magic-user herself.

Avaritia could see something was off about him, though. Her eyes were given to her by the Angel of Death himself, and they are never wrong. They tell her everything about magic with perfect accuracy, and she has never quite felt like this while looking at someone. It was probably the low quality squid she ate, but she was confident nonetheless that she would be sick in a minute or two if she stayed out in the rain like this much longer. Still, she was cautious because of it, and kept 10 blades at his back, of course, without him feeling them.

EDIT: If he should attempt to attack, she will immediately make it known he's a hostage.

Emery was about to respond to Zannrick, tell him she hadn't the slightest clue, but as if on cue the man of the hour appeared--and it looked like he had a friend.

...A rather huggy, friendly friend. She was not aware of a fourth party being involved in this meeting.

Her hackles raised, and she nodded to Zannrick, communicating her intentions without words, before stalking through the mud towards the pair, one hand on her sword but not yet drawing it. She didn't want to draw it and risk putting Calent in anymore danger than he might be in--the rain was too heavy and the distance too far for her to see exactly what that woman's hands were up to--but she also wanted to make her intent clear. She would kill that woman if she proved herself a threat.

"Oi! What's going on over there?" she shouted from a safe distance, once again giving the woman a chance to save face--and save them all from a messy situation.

Calent growled, growing irritated by her sudden intimate advances and incessant giggling as she tried to pry his arm free.
However, at  Emery's voice, he jumped suddenly, turning with a grunt as he breathed a curse beneath his lips. How embarrassing to be found in such a position as this!

OOC: Sorry, short post is short :U

Emery's eyebrows rose and, for a moment, she stared back expectantly, as though waiting for Calent to explain himself. Silence fell between them and she was more than content to let it lay there--if it weren't for the fact that Calent was her superior. Far be it for her to embarrass her the man that employed her.

Her eyes flicked from Calent to the woman and back. "Is there a problem, sir?" she asked, eyes meeting his. Hopefully her intent was clear. If the woman was bothering Calent, she would happily dispose of her.

If there was a time to act, the time was now. Zannrick's rage got the better of him, and the woman, who seemed unwilling to identify herself, or speak up, pressed only over the fact that this clearly must be a dangerous situation, and without further hesitation, he swept upon Avaritia, dragging her from Calent's side in one fell swoop.

"Take watch over the duke!" Zannrick shouted his orders, teeth bared and as white as his hair as he kept the crazed woman back, allowing Calent to go free. The duke did not hesitate, moving swiftly to recompose himself, but even as his face remained placid, it was evident irritation and embarrassment were simmering beneath the surface. His cheeks were hot, but the rain kept him cool.

"Let us hurry to the grave," Calent whispered the order to Emery as he pressed near to her side, and gestured with his head for them to press onward, leaving and trusting Zannrick behind to deal with Avaritia.  Once the pair had moved deeper into the graveyard, Calent had stopped her infront of the stone door leading to the underground catacombs, but paused just outside to grab up one of the burning lantern's to take within.

"Zannrick can catch up with us. I'm sure he'll be able to handle that woman," the duke said bitterly. He was none to pleased this woman had interrupted his plans, and could only hope to wish Zannrick could offer her a quick and silent death- or anything to get her to be silenced and unable to follow.
Grabbing one of the hanging metal doorknobs, the duke threw the doors opened, giving one chanced glance over his shoulder before disappearing within.

THe rain had soaked him thoroughly to the bone, and as he stepped inside, a puddle of water began to collect beneath his boots. He shivered lightly, but only once, as he lifted up the lantern to check the world inside. A long walk way stretched out before them, with recesses in the wall on either side, each holding a stone bed, which were the final resting places for all the noble familys in the Allarick line. Drawing in a breath, he could taste the dankness inside before he exhaled.

There was still a lot to do. He gestured to Emery's again, motioning for her to close the door, saying nothing and moved deeper within.

Emery watched grimly as Zannrick hauled the woman away, but then she was off with Calent, escorting him to the tomb while Zannrick did whatever he needed to do. She would ask no questions and expect no answers; she trusted whatever he did, it would be sufficient and they would not be bothered for the rest of this meeting.

"He's more than enough for that woman," Emery agreed as they approached the tomb. "If you don't mind my asking, my lord, who was she? Are they others we should be concerned about?" Because if there were, she wanted to know. It was better to be prepared if possible.

Following him into the tomb and shutting the door behind them, Emery was relieved to be out of the deluge, though it was too little too late by that point. Like Calent she was thoroughly soaked, boots squelching with each step, so it made little difference. And she wasn't about to start wringing out her clothes here; something about that just felt incredibly disrespectful, though she would never admit out loud that while she was comfortable with the taking of life, she was less comfortable with the dead.

She took a deep breath of dry, musty air and let it out slowly. "Shall we get started now, my lord, or will we wait for Zannrick?" What Zannrick missed she could always fill him in on.

OOC: Since I'm almost at the point where Calent will become the Grand Duke, I figure this thread probably is taking place during the time where he's being considered for the seat and perhaps it was just voted upon in the counsel that they do want him as the Grand Duke, so perhaps this takes place before he officially takes the seat or something *rambly* XD


------------------------

Calent kept silent, digesting her questions with his lips flat. His dark eyes stared off into the long halls that stretched deep underground, halls that smelled musty and of the dead.

"I am uncertain who that woman was claiming to be. There has been a lot of activity going on since the former Grand Duke had been assassinated. She could have posed a threat, but it felt as if she were toying with me." His frown deepened at the thought. "If word has already gotten around, she'll know I was the one voted in to become the next Grand Duke." He raise dhis head to Emery. "As it was voted upon last evening. So it's official." He sighed. His eyes then returned down the hall, waiting for his nerves to calm. He was normally very stoic to begin with, wouldn't voice the matter he was riled up over Avaritia Tyrennius, but still... he was now in a position of power, or would be very soon. Becoming the Grand Duke of Connlaoth during this time of turmoil had a lot of eyes pointing his way, and the unrest had already begun.   Random mages were striking out, many were called in, collected already for trial, even those who had done nothing. No mages were considered safe now. Since somehow... a mage managed to blow up the Palace, the very chambers the former Grand Duke resided, despite mordecai being nearby and on hand.

It baffled everyone.

"The woman said her name was Avaritia Tyrennius," Calent said, plucking off his rain soaked gloves before gesturing for her to follow. "Come, let's move deeper into the grave. I'd like to visit where my parents are resting, and it ought to be even safer there."
Though wouldn't that be his luck, someone would know where his parents grave was and waiting to strike. Though he was paranoid, it was unlikely, but still, his eyes skirted around as they proceeded onward, ever wary that after that incidient with Avaritia Tyrennius, anythign was possible.

Once the pair were deep enough down the rabbit hole, just approaching the south-western wing, they began to ascend down a long and shallow ramped stair case made of stone. The air here was even mustier, even a little more foul, but here was the wing that held the resting corpses of the slightly fresher dead.

"As you are well aware, temporary measures have been called out to secure heavier restrictions on mages. The mage himself has not yet been identified, so the nobles are taking precautions. Naturally, all of this is falling onto your shoulders, being a mordecai," and here he turned to face her. "And it falls on your shoulder since you one of my own, Considerng you and Zannrick are part of my elite, part of the line that has served my family for sometime, I'm trusting you two with everything." He studied her face, but continued, the stairs seeming endless as the faint light of his lantern lit the way, but at the bottom, there were torches ready to be lit, and he took his time in lighting each of them once they made it within the room, and at the far back corner, he paused, lighting the larger scones that resided on both sides of his parents tomb, and paused to stare down at the stone beds in thought.

"It is said a mage killed my father." He frowned. "Let us hope I do not suffer the same fate. Connlaoth needs a strong leader now more than ever, and the laws will need addressed. Angsar taught us to be wary of them, perhaps now is the time to put the iron shackles down upon those magic users and mages, and snuff them out where ever possible." He turned to Emery, his face stoic and plain as he looked at her.
"Men, women, children... it does not matter who. We will be branding new laws agaisnt all of them. For the safety of the people. For the safety and future of Connlaoth." His green eyes remained hard and stern. "Do you understand your mission? No mage is seen as innocent. All of them have the taint. And I need your help finding that murderer, no matter the costs."

[ooc: that makes sense to me! 8D]

Emery listened patiently as she followed him deeper into the tomb, letting him speak uninterrupted. It was rather stifling deeper inside and oppressive, but perhaps that was just claustrophobia speaking. Descending those steps felt like climbing into a grave.

Finally they were there, the stone beds before them, and Emery made a sign with her fingers and bowed her head briefly in respect. Looking back to Calent, she nodded grimly.

"I understand, my lord," she said. "We will find the one responsible, and they will be brought to justice before Ansgar." She shook her head. "I've long felt we've long been too soft on the issue and if I may speak candidly, sir, I am honored to serve a lord who would see those wrongs righted."

In fact, it was why she had defected from the Mordecai order in the first place; they were too soft, letting mages roam free at the cost of a mark on their clothes and service to the church. And yet they still murdered. She couldn't respect that, and so she had rather turn traitor to the order than continue to pay lip service to a cause she didn't believe in.

Calent was a cause she could believe in. And she would die to ensure his safety if it came to that.

Crossing her hands in front of her, she tilted her hand. "If I may ask, what would you have us do with the mages we find? Are we to formally arrest them, or are they to be executed on the spot?"

OOC: Hint, hint, the mage killer is my character, Blaith Harmond (http://www.spiritsoftheearth.net/smf/index.php?topic=14366.msg128724;topicseen#msg128724). (the person that killed the Grand Duke, I mean)

THOUGH I JUST HAD A HORRIBLE IDEA
Since Blaith's power can creep past the mordecai's, and so can Gherrick's, Gherrick should totally get caught up in being accused of the murder at some point.
Just sayin'! Might be interesting if one of the stories weave that way (or our two threads eventually weave together~)

-----------------------------------

Calent thought over her request, his eyes listless as they painted cross the stone graves.
"If you find that mage, kill him." And he paused, the place becoming silent as the dead, except the faint fluttering of the torches and scones, and the light held in his lantern. Then he slowly turned to her. "Mages can go on a case by case basis, but if there's any doubt..." His face hardened. "Do not hesitate to kill."

[ooc: omg I love this idea! *___* AND TOTALLY AGREE! The threads/plots should intersect! >8D Oh poor Gherrick, as if he's not in enough trouble already! xDD]

----

Emery pressed her lips together and nodded. "Understood, sir." After another brief pause, she added, "The mountain camps I've been hearing about. What becomes of the mages there?"

Calent grew silent over her question, mulling it over before looking at her.
"They're either killed, interrogated, or shipped elsewhere. As far from Connlaoth as possible. I was considering over seas. Though it would be impossible to keep all of our boarders patrolled for illegal mage activity, it's an idea. Though we'll probably keep most there until the mage killer is found. None of them can be considered innocent. Not with such intentions as bringing down the whole government of Connlaoth is a really real threat." He sighed and looked around the grave sight, eyes resting upon his parents place before moving to his knees and bowing his head in silence reflection.

OOC: OK COOL XD

"Indeed, sir." Emery let out a sigh. "Connlaoth has been kind to the mages, and look how they repaid that kindness? With more death. We can't be faulted for doing what needs to be done to protect our people, and they have no one to blame but themselves, because we've tried." She gave an uncomfortable shrug. "If you ask me, it's a mercy that they're being shipped away, not only for our people, but for them. News spreads. People will be angry, scared. Scared, angry people mob."

And if they wanted to tear a mage apart, Emery would not stop them.

As Calent knelt and paid his respects, however, Emery fell quiet so as not to disturb him, only speaking up after a moment to say a quiet, "For what it's worth, my lord, I'm sorry for your loss."

Calent rose only after a long moment of silence and turned to her.
"It's known my father was killed by an unknown magel." He sighed. "Let us hope justice can be served, and Connlaoth is viewed as a symbol for all of the world. Mages might roam freely elsewhere, but here, the people are safe and prospering. We can not let those ideas taint us and our advancements. No other places can boast what we have. It is our unique ability to adapt as humans, to allow ourselves to become so dependent on our minds and spirits, it's that what sets us apart and makes this country great. It is a shame people are diseased with magic, but it can not be helped." He gestured towards the stairs before moving onward, picking up the lantern, his foot steps echoing as he moved up the stairs. He was done talking, for now. But he had much to go over and paused when he was halfway up the stairs.

"I'll want you and Zannrick to check out the camps int he North, then report back to me. Understood?" He didn't bother to look back at her as he posed his question.

"Perhaps one day it will spread," Emery said, "And others will learn from our example. At the very least, we'll have planted those seeds." She offered a small smile. "Whatever the case, you will long be remembered."

As he moved up the stairs, she waited several beats to put a respectable amount of distance between them before following after him, and when he posed his question, she nodded even though she knew he couldn't see it. "Understood, sir."

"In the morning, I have been invited to dine with another of the duke's. He's agreed to help fund the hunt for the mage killer who is on the loose," he paused at the top of the steps before continuing to walk forward. "Blaith Harmond. He's the heir of Turgall. Take note of it. You and Zannrick both will be accompanying me to his manor. He is not from Reajh, bu this family does own a small manor in the East. Perhaps we can get some more help and clues from it."
And he approached the end of the way, he paused at the door just as it was opening. Tensing, he placed a hand on the hilt of his sword, but as the door opened further, he realized it was only Zannrick, and he eased up, raising up his chin expectantly.

"The woman has been taken care of." Zannrick said. There only only a few traces of the scuffle in the blood he hadn't noticed or bothered to brush away from his face. He then bowed before the duke and stepped aside, his eyes then going to Emery after Duke Calent walked back into the rain.

Silently, Emery cursed. She was not particularly fond of stuffy political dinners; she was a soldier, she followed orders, took out the enemy, and went home to mend her wounds, sharpen her blades, and drink too much ale. She always felt so awkward in polite, formal company, though she had been through that enough to know what utensils to use and what words to say and how to grin and bear it.

Besides, this wouldn't be just any formal dinner. She could endure it for the information they would gain.

She was about to speak her assent when the door opened, and in an instant her hand was on her sword and she was tensed, prepared to spring forward and put herself between Calent and the intruder if it came to that. But instead, it was only Zannrick.

She let out a breath, and nodded in greeting.

Following Calent out of the tomb and into the rain, she came to a stop and placed a hand on Zannrick's shoulder. "I hope you own a nice, formal set of clothes."

Zannrick's face twisted at the comment. He stared towards the Duke, watching and being careful they had enough distance between them before whispering, "What do you mean?" though his words came out almost like a hiss, nearly lost to the rains.

Emery shot Zannrick a wry grin. "Tomorrow morning we dine with Lord Calent and Lord Harmond of Turgall," she told him. "And after that, we'll be leaving for the mountains, so if your boots need mending I'd take care of that posthaste."

Zannrick scowled.
"Angsar's balls.." though he hoped no one but Emery might be able to hear that. He sighed, shaking his head. "He's always one to entertain. But you've got to play by the book if you're one of them." He gave a sniff, putting his nose to the air. He was certainly glad not to be a duke, let alone the Grand Duke. But he knew where his duty lay. "Seems when the morning clears of this rain, I'll be needing to stop at the tailors for some alterations." And then he looked down at his boots, a frown sagging upon his lips. "And the shoemaker, for some.. mending." He liked to be prepared, he could only hope he'd have the time for it. He's been running around ever since the Grand Duke's death, and rarely leaving Calent's side. He was also relived to find out, since all of this occured, Calent had actually been getting sleep for a change. He wondered if it just lead the man into exhaustion. He knew he'd be more restless with all of this news about rogue mages running about killing people. THe idea of mage camps in the north was a good idea. Though in the same breath, he'd rather just slaughter the lot of them.

"So I suppose you'll be in a dress?" Zannrick asked, just to be snooty. He knew they'd have to dress up, but would be in partial armor. It was the mordecai way. Everyone had to KNOW who they were. And where they hailed from. He was proud to be from Connlaoth, and from the Duchy of Allar, to boot. He would proudly wear those colors this evening.

Emery's smile turned cool and she peered at him from beneath her lashes. "Why? Would you like to see me in one?" she asked.

Not that she thought she could do any dress justice; it would probably just look awkward on her, showing off all her muscles and scars like that. Dresses were for pretty ladies, not soldiers, and she most certainly was not a lady. Nor did she consider herself beautiful. Even if once upon a time she could have been, that puckered slash across her face had taken care of that.

In many ways, however, it was a blessing. It meant she could focus on what mattered without letting silly things like vanity distract her.

Zannrick smirked at her comment, a snorted laugh coming through his nose.
"It would be interesting to see you in a dress. Though I know we'll still need to be in some armor, and with our weapons. So you might be lucky this time." It was here his blue eyes began to sparkle. "Though do not forget. The Grand Duke to be is engaged. We'll have to attend his wedding. Who knows if his tastes might change."

Though even he knew the pair of them would simply be decked out in the more regal of armors to show off the Grand Duke's tastes, and also to show proper respects for such an occasion. And they'd be in similar attire for his ceremony anointing him as the next Grand Duke. Which, he knew, would be happening soon. With all things, it was a process. But this time around, the entire country of Connlaoth was moving with haste to fix the problem and uprisings that came along with them being leaderless. So it would only be a few more weeks before it would be made official.

So as they walked onward, Zannrick took a moment to study Emery. He knew she wasn't like the other formal ladies. It was refreshing. And although Zannrick was mostly unmarred himself, her scar did lend more respect towards her. He'd seen some well to do ladies have a mental fiasco for less.  The upper class were definitely a breed of their own.

Emery's shoulders slouched at that reminder. "Ah yes. The wedding," she said, keeping her voice low so only Zannrick could hear. "Color me ecstatic. All that pomp and fuss...I don't know how people stand it."

The rain had lessened from a downpour to a steady drizzle, and Emery sighed and shook her head to get her sopping bangs out of her face. She had tried hard to remain stoic, but now out of the musty tomb and back into the cool rain, the cold was seeping into her bones and making her shiver. God, but she couldn't wait to get back indoors, out of these clothes, and beneath warm, dry blankets.

"At least they'll have wine," she said, rubbing her arms with her hands. "Lots of wine."

"Yes," Zannrick kept his gaze ever watchful on the duke, a hand always resting near his sword. "Wine seems to be a cure for all." He smirked, said nothing more, but allowed his long legs to carry him nearer towards the duke, keeping quiet for a few moments as the rain drizzled down around them.
"Sir, shall we escort you back to the castle?"

Calent had been silent for most of the walk to the road. The graveyard had been soggy, mud clinging to his boots and clothes. So at the question, he paused as he stood at the edge of the muddy road, removing his gloves and running a hand through his dark hair.
"It might be wise, considering the woman from earlier." His green eyes went to Zannrick, then to Emery. "Once we are at the castle, I'll issue further orders from there. It might not be wise to have either of you leave my sight."

Zannrick nodded, "Understood," And stole a quick glance over to Emery. This was going to be a long night.

"Yes, and I have a feeling we'll be needing a lot of it," Emery said with a smirk, but then it was back to business.

She fell into step with Calent and Zannrick, and met Zannrick's look with a knowing one of her own. Indeed, they would not be getting much sleep tonight, if any at all.

But sleep was just one of the many sacrifices one made in this line of work.

"Understood, sir," she said, and went to her horse, unhitching her and mounting her. Now that business had been taken care of and she had a goal, she felt eager to get back, get out of these cold clothes, and (maybe she was hoping for way too much here) get a bath.

If she was lucky.

A carriage had been waiting, and after Zannrick offered to inspect it and deemed it was safe, he opened the door for the Duke and bowed his head humbly as Calent stepped inside.
It was after he was seated did he pause to take notice of both of his mordecai- one's he had had since the beginning of all of this, and gave a nod along with a sigh.
"Keep close. There are not many you can trust." Calent said.

Zannrick nodded and closed the carriage door, waited for the valet to beckon his horse onward, before going to his own horse and moving beside Emery.

"Do you want the front or rear watch?" he said, almost smiling. There was most certainly nothign to smile about here, except neither watch would be fun. At least the rains were letting up.

Once Calent was safely seen to and Zannrick was on his own horse, Emery could relax again--not that she'd been uncomfortable, and not that Calent made her uneasy. It wasn't that at all. It was just that she didn't need to be all professional when it was just the two of them.

She rubbed her horse's neck soothingly and quietly promised her a warm wipe-down and dry stable when they got back, but looked back up when Zannrick spoke.

A little almost- smile twisted her lips, stretching the scar a little. "Rear, I think," she said, deadpan. "It has the best view." And then, reining her horse back, she let Zannrick go on ahead so she could fall in behind him.

OOC: LOOOOL. The best view of what? 8D
SORRY HAD TO SAY IT LOOOOL

----------------

Zannrick smirked and nodded.
"Very well," and he said no more, pulling on the reins of his horse and leading him towards the front watch. Then once in position, he tossed a glance over to Emery from over his shoulder and nodded, then pressed his boots against the horse's side and pressed him onward. It would be a long journey back, and the pair of them would have to be wary. There was no telling what lurked within the woods....

But thankfully things proved uneventful as the carriage rolled on against the muddy trail, and soon the town was pulling into view. It would only take, perhaps, a half hour more for them to arrive at Calent's home, and Zannrick was growing anxious for a bed and bath. Food be damned, he could eat later. As they crested a hill, he could see the cobblestone roads down the way and peered back at Emery to see how she was fairing, motioning to her to see if all was well.

[ooc: THAT WAS EXACTLY THE INTENT! xDDD]

--------

Catching Zannrick's signal, Emery nodded back to show she was okay. More than okay now, actually; the closer they got to their destination, the higher her spirits rose, eager to get inside and get dry again! It felt as though if she stayed out here any longer, she would shrivel up like a prune. The rain had started up again and she was beginning to feel like a drowned cat, her clothes sticking to her in a tight, uncomfortable, chafing way. Her horse was no happier about this than her, blowing air out her nostrils and flicking her ears in irritation.

Still, they were not out of the woods yet--figuratively speaking, that is--and she kept her ears open and her eyes peeled as they strolled down the hill. She doubted anyone would be so foolish as to make a move here with so many potential witnesses, and yet with the bad weather and poorer visibility, anything was possible.

Flicking the reins, she pulled up closer to Calent, though still remained a little behind. "Anything new and exciting up there?" she called.

And that was when she heard it: hoof-beats.

A chill going through her, she turned in her saddle to look, and that was when she saw the riders coming from the woods--three of them, and gaining fast.

"Zannrick!"

OOC: ANd I lol because Zannrick is such a serious character he would have no idea 8D
and sorry for the delay in posting :T

--------------

At her cry, Zannrick whirled around and noted the hooded horse men racing their way. Zannrick's eyes widened at the sight, then narrowed as he bared his teeth, clutched onto the reins and pressed his boots heavily into his horse's side.

"We're under attack! Draw your weapons and defend the duke!" he shouted. And at the outburst, Calent peered out the window, just as two of the men came up to surround Emery, blades drawn and ready to cut down her and her horse, while the third rider rushed towards the carriage.

"Oh no you don't!" Zannrick growled and charged him, blade at the ready as steel slapped against steel.

[ooc: No worries! xD And ahahahaha, poor Zannrick. xD]

-----

Emery had her sword out when the men came upon her and though the riders had numbers, they were obviously less experienced. Whirling her horse around, she deflected one blow and struck fast, getting the rider right in the space between shoulder and collarbone. His sword dropped from a suddenly useless hand as, with a yell of pain, his arm went slack.

And in that small  breath of a moment, the other rider that had attacked her slipped past to go after Zannrick.

"Watch your back!" Emery yelled, digging her heels in and wheeling around to go after the rider.

Zannrick's blade smacked against the first attacker's sword with a hot and heavy swing, but at Emery's cry, he let out a cry of his own, roaring as he turned around and thrust his blade out, grating it against the first attacker's to swing it back behind himself just in time to deflect the blade aiming for the back of his neck from the man who now approached.  Growling, he pressed he blade froward, before striking it away and slashing again, but it was evident he was having some difficulty fighting men on both sides as his horse danced uneasily beneath him.

Zannrick was struggling, as anyone would be with two armed riders taking them from both sides.

Catching up, Emery swept her blade for the rider to Zannrick's left, forcing him to leave off from Zannrick and focus entirely on her.

"Go on without us, sir!" Emery shouted to the carriage, though she wasn't sure they would hear. Her horse stepped uneasily as the attacker deflected her blade and slipped beneath it with a thrust for her ribs, and it was only quick thinking that saved her as she swung her blade down to parry. The rider she'd taken had been less experienced, maybe, but this one actually knew what he was doing.

Now having only one man to fight, Zannrick focused all of his power to his sword, batting it away with heavy long and angered swings.
"I'll tear you apart for attempting such treasonous acts!" Zannrick spat, steel swords smacking to steel swords, before finally he over came the man and sunk the blade deep within his chest. The man gargled on his own blood, before Zannrick pushed him off of his blade and allowed the man to fall as a corpse off of his horse. Spotting Emery, he drew out a dagger, aiming towards the man's lower back and chucked it at him, hoping to hit his mark.

The sword hit the man's back and with a scream, he went down, toppling from his horse. His foot stuck, though, and his frightened horse dragged him for several yards before his foot popped free.

One of the men was still alive and mostly well, though; the man whose shoulder Emery had struck. Turning, Emery saw him riding back for the woods, one arm hanging limp, and with a shout, Emery nudged her horse into a gallop and tore off after him.

With a hard, sharp whack with the flat of her blade, she knocked him off his horse. He landed with an audible thud and a miserable groan.

Swinging down from her horse, Emery grabbed him by the hair and set her blade against his throat. "Who sent you?"

"As if I'd tell you!" the man retorted, spitting on her face. "May the new Grand Duke die as cowardly as the last!"

Zannrick hung back, watching as Emery pursued. He wasn't about to let the carriage go unguarded as he moved his horse uneasily about.
"Emery, report!" he barked out, curious as to what was going on. She should just kill the man, but then agian.. perhaps they ought to take him in for questioning.

Emery made a face when the man spit on her, but she ignored it and pressed the blade tighter against his skin, just shy of drawing blood.

"Maybe you won't tell me, but you will speak," she said, voice chillingly cold. The blade pressed deeper and drew tiny beads of blood. "And then you'll wish did tell me."

Zannrick's voice carried over the distance, and Emery looked up. "I'm unhurt," she called back, "and I'm taking this one prisoner!"

Slamming the man's head back down against the ground to disorient him, she yanked him roughly to his feet by the hair and dragged him along, blade still at his throat. "I'll need some rope."

Zannrick nodded, and after surveying the land, he removed some rope that was latched to the side of his saddle bag and pressed his horse forward and he was quickly at her side.
"Here, do you need any help binding him?" he asked, keeping his horse moving antsily as his eyes continued to stare off into the woods, in case any one else was foolish enough to try to attack the duke.

Sheathing her blade, Emery yanked the man's hands behind his back and nodded to Zannrick. "If you'd be so kind."

Zannrick was quick to dismount his horse, knowing that the more time he spent off the horse, but himself, and all the rest, more vulnerable. (especially the duke). But they needed this man alive if they were to question who it was that assembled the attack and to get to the bottom of it. Who knows, it might even lead to who killed the former Grand Duke.
So he made haste, binding the man up quickly then gestured towards his horse.
"Here, let's load him on the back of my horse." ANd once the body was secured, he turned to Emery, then glanced back out towards the forests.

"Let's make haste to get him into the prison, and double haste in getting the duke home."

As soon as the criminal was dealt with, Emery gave Zannrick a curt nod, mounted her horse, and pressed her heels into her sides to get her moving.

"I'll take the rear again," she offered, falling behind. "And hopefully this time we have no further interruptions."

Though perhaps, in an odd way, this attack had been fortunate? Unless it was a set-up designed to throw them off the real trail.

Zannrick nodded at her words, saying nothing as his eyes swept out into the forests again, checking them one last time before taking the lead. The duke was taken home first, and once it was assured he was well and safe, he waited for the lesser mordecai to appear to remain nearby while he turned back to Emery as he approached his horse. He remounted and sighed, gripping the reigns tightly.

"I don't like this." he said, chewing on the inside of his mouth with a frown. "Perhaps one of us ought to stay with the duke while the other takes the man into questioning?" Though he couldn't say for certain why he was uneasy, he felt as if eyes were peering down at him, even as his eyes cleaved through the darkness, but found nothing. And the infernal rain finally had let up, it didn't matter at this point. Both he and Emery were thoroughly soaked to the bone.

"No, that would be best," Emery said, though the part of her that just wanted to get warm and dry sighed at the thought. But duty and safety always came before selfish comforts, and she had signed away comfort the moment she had enlisted. Tonight was a dangerous one, and with one attack having already commenced, there was no telling what else was in store.

And perhaps that was hardly an attack, but more like the scouting ants sent out before the main invasion.

She trotted her horse forward until they were side by side with Zannrick. "I'll take the criminal," she offered, motioning for him to help transfer the man to her horse. "You protect the duke."

Zannrick nodded, and gave her a firm look as he said, "Very well.  I shall see you back here for the night watch." ANd he actually afforded her a rare grin about that. They both knew very well they wouldn't be sleeping this night. So turning his horse around, he stayed diligently at the carriage's side, glancing back only once towards Emery before he and the duke disappeared down the street.

He had the stable hands tend to his horse, and that of the Duke's, while assisting him back to his room. It seemed the duke was as stoic as ever, but even someone like Zannrick could see his feathers were a little rustled. He had remained guard within his room, at the duke's order, as the duke ordered his servants to help him remove his cloak as he slipped into an entire that was more comfortable.
"I doubt I will be sleeping much this evening," Calent stated flatly as a servant worked a brush into his hair. "Reports will need to be filed on the incident. About that woman and... "he frowned. "About that attack that was so near to the city."

Zannrick remained near the door, hands clasped behind his back as he nodded.
"Understood, sir."
And it was only after the duke was finished preparing that he turned around. "Accompany me to the music room. You can stand on guard outside. And inform me when your partner has returned." Naturally, he meant Emery. Zannrick nodded, then followed the duke to his music room, his own eyes tracing around the area to ensure it was safe before he stood guard outside. His face was hardened, but his eyes were a mixture of emotions as he listened to Calent begin to play a solemn tune upon the piano, a song that reminded him of their hardships in the rain.

It was several hours later before Emery returned, soaked, uncomfortable, and exhausted--and exhausted further by the knowledge that there would be no rest anytime soon. At least her horse would get a reprieve, she thought with a wry smile as she handed her horse off to the stable hands and headed inside.

A servant lead her to the music room, and she tromped her way over to Zannrick, boots squelching with her every step.

"The traitor's been dealt with," she told him, smoothing out her expression to hopefully smooth out the lines of fatigue, though her eyes felt scratchy and tired and her thighs were sore from so much riding. "Said he shouldn't be that tough a nut to crack. But they'll send news of their results when they get any."

Music drifted out of the room, haunting and melancholy, and Emery inclined an ear toward the sound. "How's he holding up?"

Zannrick shrugged.
"He can't sleep. As usual. So he's keeping himself entertained." he gestured towards the music room,t hen looked away, staring through the wall, rather than at it.
"Not sure how long he'll keep this up, but from the sounds of it, we've got a long day ahead of us tomorrow." He sighed, his mind wandering back to her report. "I wonder if that attacker was associated with that woman from earlier. Either way, both threats were dealt with, and the duke is home." So he kept rigid, and at attention, even as his eyes appeared weary, and more grey then blue.

"It seems rather convenient, doesn't it?" Emery said. "A strange, random encounter with an eccentric woman followed by a strange, random encounter with riders. The timing is too perfect. Of course, it could be sheer coincidence." She shrugged. "But I suppose we'll find out."

With a yawn, she stretched her arms over her head until her back popped, and she ran her hands through her short, wet hair. "Ah. I hate to be whiny, especially after everything today, but I would kill for dry clothes and a warm bed right about now." But despite the complaint, she stood at attention by the door, fighting against her shivers.

"At least the music is lovely," she added with a smile.

Zannrick smirked at her words.
"I'd have to agree," he said, but gave a shrug, and remained an extension of Calent's hand. Then at the comment about the music, he listened to it carefully. It was beautiful, but a haunting song.
"Yes, he plays it often, ever since his father had been killed."
Then he grew quiet, continuing to stare at the wall. Duty was duty, after all, and Zannrick was as rigid and studious as ever.

With that sad comment lingering in her mind, Emery fell into a silence as well, resigning herself to a long and sleepless vigil. Not that there was much time to go before morning dawned, for it had been long past midnight by the time they returned.

Thankfully, Emery was used to long watches as she stood on the side of the door opposite Zannrick and waited for morning.

It came at last, at first a subtle lightening before growing to a bright, golden glow all throughout the palace. It hurt her eyes--eyes which had seen no sleep and craved it terribly, and had puffy bags beneath them--and she blinked and yawned. She hadn't slept, but she had begun to zone out, falling into a sort of trance. Her clothes were dryer, though she hardly noticed; they still felt gross and stiff.

Rubbing her eyes, she looked over at Zannrick, squinting. "Morning already?"

Zannrick gave a rigid nod, and though his face looked tired, his eyes did not. He kept them ever sharp, and gestured towards the room. "He still hasn't slept. I suppose we should inquire if he is ready for the day." And he moved to do so himself, knocking on the edge of the door before inquiring, "Duke Calent, the morning is here. Would you like us to escort you to your room?"

The duke had been tracing his fingers over the keys of his piano, playing a silent song within his head, but did not let his fingers press into the keys to make noise. So at first, he did not respond to Zannrick, simply played on silently until the last note was played. Then slowly he riased his head, peering over tiredly towards Zannrick before nodding.

"Then we shall escort you," the mordecai replied with a bow. He only cast one knowing gaze towards Emery before the pair of them followed Calent to his room. They were now stationed outside as his servants moved to help, and it was here Zanrick found himself sighing out of frustration.

"By Angsar's beard, this day will be long."

The night's worries were over, it was time for the pair of them to prepare for the day's festivities. Another pair of mordecai had approached,a nd Zannrick grit his teeth.Hed rather remain on a second shift here than accompany the duke. But his loyalties lay with Calent, and he would oblige.
Nodding, he informed the new watchmen of their duties, befre turning away sharply and gesturing with a simple look to Emery for her to follow. The two would need baths and sharp clothing if they were to accompany Calent for the entertainment tonight.

Blaith Harmond... ugh. More duke's. More time for political banter. At least it seemed this Blaith Harmond was amicable enough.
"Come, our bathing unit is just below." As if Emery's would need reminded they would share the same bath house. Mordecai were mordecai after all, and a soldier a soldier. Male and female partitions meant nothing to them, so after the pair would descend into the basement, and he, stepping into the dimly lit room of the bath house, he began to peel off his clothing without much thought, tossing them into a careless heap about the floor. There would only be so much time before the nosy servants would appear to take measurements and to fuss over their clothing, and Zannrick didn't waste a moment before slipping in the waters with a long sigh.

His muscles were as tense as he was, and the water worked as relief enough.

As much as she was dreading the long day ahead, Emery was looking forward to the bath. The cold had seeped into her bones and she felt filthy, but not only that, but she was hopeful that maybe, just maybe, she'd be able to relax a bit in the tub. If she was lucky, she might get a little five minute doze...

With a sympathetic glance Zannrick's way, she followed him to the bath.

Like him, she didn't waste any time. She stripped off her clothes, tossed them aside, and slid into the water with a blissful sigh. Ansgar above, this felt wonderful. She didn't even care that against her cold skin, the water felt a bit too hot; her body adjusted to it, and the burn felt cleansing, soothing away aches she hadn't even know she had, because she'd grown used to them.

She dunked her head under the water to wet her hair and wash away the sweat, the resurfaced and leaned her head back against the tub's edge. "Mmm...how long do you think we have until we're whisked away again?" she murmured, eyes closed.

THe bath waters were almost too good, and as Zannrick smoothed a hand down his face, he took a minute to take notice of the nude woman sharing his bath. His eyes idly traced over her form, naturally, when she was not looking. He was surprised to find himself staring. It wasn't like they hadn't shared a bath before, though it seemed this time he had almost forgotten she was a woman, though with a toned body, well worn and etched with scars. The scars on her body drew his eyes to her face, to where the puckering scar slashed across it. Scars aside, she was still a woman, with a strong prettieness about herand if he were like other men, he'd inquire about finding some 'release' with her. But he was all work and no play, and sighed irritably at that fact as he sunk his head back into the water.
When was the last time he had been with a woman? Far too long, and he had a stuck up his ass because of it. Angsar's balls,...
this day would be too long. But for now, the waters would suffice as he closed his eyes and tried imagining that he could sleep. They'd barely have an hour to themselves. A quick nap in the bath would be heavenly.

When Zannrick didn't answer, Emery cracked her eyes open--then blinked water from her eyes and gave him a puzzled look.

Was he...staring at her?

It surprised her--not because she minded, but because the man was so rigid, and for a moment she just slyly watched him through hooded eyes. With a demanding job like theirs, with little downtime, and spending so much time around the same person, it was easy to forget about certain things that would be big details in any other setting. For example, she was so used to sharing baths with the opposite sex that the act didn't even carry a sexual component in her mind, and it was so normal to her that she hardly even noticed nudity. It wasn't really about being a woman naked with a man in those cases--it was just two soldiers getting clean.

So his staring was strange, more than anything, though not unpleasant.

It made her feel like a woman in a job that left her feeling stripped of femininity.

After a moment of subtle observation, she decided to come clean. Stretching, she leaned back and rested her elbows on the rim behind her and gave a slow, sly smile. "Like what you see?" she teased.

Zannrick gave a snort at her question, though his cheeks burned lightly for her catching him stare.
"Gods almighty, this day has been so long that anything different is a nice change in pace," he muttered, sinking his face into his hands as he rested an elbow at the lip of the bath on the opposite end of the bath. THough he glanced over at her through his fingers, before sighing.
"What I'd like to see if a warm bed."
And Emery in it wouldn't be all that bad. He sighed the thought away but looked her over, a smile careful upon his lips. "You would be wicked enough to torment a man who has to be called back to duty within the hour." He sighed. "I suppose that's why some say women are wicked." Though he sounded so serious, thejoke migh tnot come across. Though she probably knew him well enough.

OOC: Our characters seem to have a theme of awkward baths together. |: This must become a thing.

---

Emery broke out into rich laughter. Maybe it was the sleep deprivation, but his reaction tickled her. Rarely had she encountered a man so easily flustered, but on the flip side, those she had encountered were often flustered by her response to things, despite the fact that she was a soldier. Many still expected a coy Connlaothian woman deep down beneath the scars and armor, but she had embraced the Mordecai's lifestyle and applied the freedoms it gave her quite...liberally.

"An hour?" She grinned, scar stretching with her lips. "That's being very generous, I think. Men are often prone to exaggeration. On the other hand," she continued coolly, grabbing the soap and lathering up her hair, "I'd love to meet a man who really did make use of an hour."

At her teasing, Zannrick gave her a soured stare and replied bitterly, with a half snarl of his teeth, "Trust me. I'd need about three hours of free time for that."

OOC: OMgerd, and the next awkward bath scene could be with Owl, Rufus, Fae and Jarrett...
and Jessi; in some sort of hot spring some where..
FOR SOME REASON

XD

Emery laughed again, and washed under her arms. "I'll believe that when I see it," she said, then rinsed her hair and raked her fingers through the short strands. She gave him a look through her fingers.

"Oh, don't look so sour. I'm sorry. I'm only teasing you."

---

OOC: HAHAHAHAHA YESSSSS. xD
FOR SOME REASON.
It's happening. |: I don't care how, it just is. *determined face*

Zannrick groaned.
"Do you forget I'm still a man, Emery?" And he finished scrubbing at his own hair and sighed, splashing waters at it to rinse whatever bubbles were threatening to get into his eyes before dunking his head under the waters to rinse the rest all out. Resurfacing, he caught his breath again and smoothed his white blonde hair back from his face.
"Besides, who knows.." he smirked over at her. "Maybe next time you will."
And he stepped out of the bath, waters dripping off his body was he moved to fetch up his towel.

Emery's eyebrows rose clear to her hairline and she gave a surprised laugh. "Oh really?" she said, and as she watched him step from the rub, eyes on his rear, she though that no, no she'd never forgotten he was a man.

Though until this moment, she hadn't realized he thought of her as a woman; she hardly felt like one herself. And Zannrick? Was she honestly entertaining such thoughts about him? Well, it had been a while; that had to have something to do with it.

Finishing her bath and rinsing off, she followed him from the waters, a little reluctant to leave the warmth. Gooseflesh pebbled her skin as the cooler air outside hit it, and she was quick to grab a towel and wrap it around herself, though she still tracked water across the floor. "Time to go get fopped up, eh?"

"Yes," Zannrick confirmed in a hiss; and soon the pair were back in their quarters, Zannrick silently groaning as he was decked out in a fancy white suit, one that held the ever symbolic symbol of the mordecai, and that of the crest of Allar; flame around the blade. Once they were finished becoming groomed, her glowered at himself in the mirror, before moving off to see what had become of Emery.

"Come on, Emery, what on earth is taking you so long?" And as he stepped behind the partition in their room where she was being prepared, he halted in midstep, taken back that Duke Calent had actually put her in a dress. A white military dress, but a dress none the less.

OOC: lol hope it was ok to assume XD I can fix if not~

OOC: Pffffft, it's too good to pass up! xDDD

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Zannrick wasn't the only one surprised at Calent's choice. Emery had anticipated a soldier's dress uniform--not a literal dress! And yet as the servants helped her get ready, and after the initial shock, she couldn't find it in her to complain even as she feared she'd look ridiculous. She wasn't used to wearing dresses. Dresses were something for pretty women, for dainty ladies with their smooth skin and soft forms, not...well, not people like her, with their scars and tight muscle.

Yet when the women were finished with her and turned her toward the mirror, Emery stared.

That was her?

She was so used to wearing men's clothes that she didn't really think of herself as having a shape, and yet the dress pinched in her waist, giving her actual hips, and pushed up her small breasts, giving her actual cleavage, and for a moment she hardly recognized the person staring back at her with large green eyes and choppy red hair. The ladies had put powder on her face to try to conceal the scar, and though it didn't help much, it smoothed her skin and hid tired circles beneath her eyes.

She would never be a soft, dainty lady--and didn't want to be, that was just impractical--and yet in that moment she was reminded that she was a woman.

She was still staring at herself when Zannrick's voice caught her attention, and she spun around to face him and froze when he froze, catching his look.

And for a rare moment, she actually felt...she wasn't even sure. Self-conscious?

And very, very aware of how good Zannrick looked in that outfit.

Her face warmed and she cleared her throat awkwardly. It was so strange that she'd feel most vulnerable fully dressed than completely bare in front of him.

"Hmm," she said, trying to cover up her insecurity as she stepped closer to him and leaned this way and that, studying him. "Well, well. You sure clean up nice." And then she laughed. "Aren't we a pretty pair? All fluffed up like peacocks."

And then she reached out and pat his cheek. "But you mustn't rush a lady. We wear far more layers than you do." Turning back to the mirror, she took a little brush and painted her lips, then regarded herself and shrugged. "Eh. Why not?"

Finished, she turned back to him and gave an impish smile. "Like what you see?"

Zannrick wasn't a man for flattery. Quick and to the point was his way, but the moment he had seen Emery in the dress, he had forgotten how to use his tongue. THough when she approached with her sly talk, he gave a scowl of his own and looked back at her in the mirror as she went about painting her lips.

"Peacocks, indeed. If it wasn't expected for this sort of job, I'd find ways to ward against these sorts of suits. But it is what it is.." ANd his eyes knowingly traced across her form, and found himself staring down at her pressed cleavage when she asked her last question.
His ice blue eyes looked up into her green ones.

His frown deepened.
"If you're into that sort of pomp," he sneered and turned away, sighing irritably as he brushed at the long, flowing blue cape of his suit. Though he was dressed up in mostly white, he bore the double crest of Connlaoth, and that of the Allarrian crest, and one of the mordecai; well patched into his suit. ANd subtle armor that blended into his attire worked well, and was hardly noticible (for thank god, Calent wasn't so cruel to have him completely disarmed), and a decorative sword remained at his hip, that of which his powder white gloves tapped tentatively against as he stared back at the door and repeated his question.

"Are you done yet? I do not wish to keep the duke waiting..."

His stare didn't go unnoticed. It was pretty obvious when someone wasn't looking you in the eye and was instead looking far lower. And yet, Emery found she didn't mind.

When he finally met her eyes, she smiled at his noncommittal answer.

Typical Zannrick.

His impatience, however, only made her move slower as she finished touching up her rouge and fished out a pair of matching gloves. She slipped them on, one finger at a time, and gave a roguish smile.

"You could stand watch all night without a peep of complaint or an ounce of stimulation, and yet this is what you find excruciating?" she remarked as she tugged the second glove into place. Finished, she bent forward--very deliberately--as she made to adjust her bodice. But really, it was just to give him a better view of the cleavage he'd been staring at earlier.

"Hmm...how do I look?"

Zannrick wrinkled his nose at her, unamused.  He wasn't that daft not to get what she was playing at and turned away.
"Ridiculous," he replied flatly. "Are you quite done yet so we can leave? As I've pressed before, we should not keep Duke Calent waiting."

Emery let out a sigh. Someone was cranky today. Emery, on the other hand, had dropped so far down into exhaustion that she'd come right back out the other side again and veered straight into giddiness--and being in a silly dress probably didn't help. That's all it was, after all, right? Just a silly, stupid outfit.

Soldiers like her couldn't look anything other than ridiculous in an outfit like this.

Straightening up again, she frowned, a slight blush on her face. "Yes, yes. I'm ready," she said, playfulness gone. She fussed at the folds of her dress, suddenly awkward.

"Let's go."

Zannrick nodded as he turned away from her, guiding the pair of them back to Calent's room.
Tensions were always high, especially with the high probability Duke Calent was to become the Grand Duke himself. Playing 'dinner' with anther Duke helped save face and raise approval amongst his peers. Though Zannrick wasn't a political man himself, he had no thoughts for or against Blaith Harmond, except the small fact he had distant relations with another former duchy that had been trampled out years ago for supporting mages. For this, it made him a bit suspicious, but he only supposed both he and Calent were trying to keep up appearances in this most trying time. So once they arrived at Duke Calent's room, he was thankful they were not waiting for very long before the group of them made their way to the carriage. Zannrick was glad when it was decided the mordecai were allowed to travel on horse back, and saddled up onto his own white mare before glancing over at Emery to see if she was ready. It would be a long road ahead.

Thankfully, the dress was a military dress, and that meant a split skirt so she didn't have to ride side-saddle. She was quiet as she mounted her horse, and stiffly formal again, all business.

Remember your place, Emery, she told herself. All business. It was silly to let something so stupid bother her, and she wasn't even sure why it bothered her so much in the first place. Probably because she was tired, and exhaustion made her moody and sensitive, made her act in ways she normally wouldn't, in ways she normally kept buried.

Seated and settled, she glanced over at Zannrick with the same sort of stiff formality and nodded to show she was ready. She trotted her horse away from his without a word and took up position near the front of the carriage.

Most of their journey took them through Falkenrath and the south, through Matron's hollow before they'd find themselves in the smaller duchy of Turgall. The weather was at least nice, though they had to travel through heavy winds in Falkenrath, which would have delayed them had they not traveled the day before over night. Now, the week had gone and passed, and the sun seemed to be shining down upon them. With Zannrick on his horse and dress, and Emery stationed on hers, they continued to lead the duke into the lion's den. Little did they know the very duke they were sent to dine with for the weekend was none other than the assassin himself!

Though Calet was not quite on the throne, he had been vying vehemently for it for the past several weeks, and had only returned back to his duchy in Allar when the nobles went on 'break' in attempts to figure this whole mess out. Turns out, Calent would be getting his wish, and would become the Grand Duke of Allar- or so the rumors insisted.

And this did not sit well with Blaith Harmond. He had been there, sitting in his chair and stewing over his own anger for this situation. Were the other dukes so blind as to allow Calent to con them into him taking the throne by villainizing the mage population? It was preposterous, yet here it was happening, and Blaith, aiming to save face (and more), figured that his heated debate wth Calent back in Reajh ought to be cooled. And what better way then with a feast?

Upon entering the gate to the Turgall Castle, the servants all eager came down to open the doors to Calent's carriage for him. And at the massive doorway to his home, Duke Harmond stood, smiling with his blue eyes down at his guests.

"Welcome to Turgall!"
And it was at Blaith's jovial laugh that Zannrick gestured with an upwards nod to Emery for her her and he to dismount. It was time to play 'dress up' with the royals. God..sometimes his job sucked. At least, he hoped inwardly, they'd have something particularly good to eat. When he'd eaten with his own duke in Allar, he always ate well.

Alright. Time to play the respectable lady.

With a pleasant smile, Emery dismounted her horse and curtseyed deeply to the duke, head bowed, before rising again and meeting his gaze. The castle looked gorgeous, which should not have been a surprise, with so many servants to tend to it. But, funny as it was, she was still awed by nobility even if she had worked around them for some time yet, but she couldn't help it.

"It is an honor to be here, Your Grace," she said at last, before turning and approaching the doors of Calent's carriage, which was already being tended to by the servants. They opened the doors to let Calent out, bowing in respect, and Emery stood ready to flank him.

"I present to you His Grace, Duke Calent Allarrick of Allar."

Blaith's eyes shined in response, echoing the laughter from earlier.
"Welcome, welcome!" he said, taking a few steps outside to greet the man and his escorts. But nothing was lost to Zannrick. They had only been here for just a few minutes and already he thought he smelled a rat. The Duke of Turgall seemed to be too willing to please, that much was evident as he had to endure a few ass-kissing statements. But if Duke Allarrick was aware, he showed it not.

This thought only continued when they were all ushered inside, and small talk revolved around all of the amenities this duke spared for his own. A quick glance to Emery said all he was thinking, but he left his tongue unmoved as cool, blue eyes searched the area, studying every minute detail- to the filigree on the walls and carved into the mahogany stair case, to the marble statues and crystal chandeliers.

Yes, like every castle, this one was just as pomp and lush with detail. Turning only when Blaith began to guide them all to the veranda, it seemed they'd be enjoying a few cocktails before the meal.

"Nothing like a good wine or champagne to shake out those legs from lengthy travel!" Blaith said. Calent only nodded, and accepted a wine glass himself before they were all requested to sit. Naturally, Zannrick remained standing, and Emery was presumed to do the same, but his eyes never left the area, going to Blaith on occasion from time to time while the two duke's conversed. They spoke of nthing real in particular, and it seemed most of the small talk was coming from Blaith's lips.

But the topic soon changed when Blaith peered over at the pair.
"So what's with the guards?" he questioned, taking his wine to his lips. "Don't trust me in my own home eh?" But before Calent could retort, Blaith was laughing. "I jest. I jest. I know a lot us are on edge these days. I know I would be if I were you." ANd his eyes moved over Calent.  "You seem to have a lot of popularity among the ranks. What with the news you'll become grand duke.."

And as it was earlier, if Calent seemed offended by any of this, he showed nothing but indifference behind his green eyes.
"Yes, no one can be too certain these days. Though all that can be done is vie for changes in the land. The laws are not good enough to protect us. This much can be certain by the most recent death of our Grand Duke."

Blaith gave a smile, but it was one that did not reach his eyes.
"Aye, and it seems just about everyone agrees."

Standing opposite Zannrick, Emery focused on the two dukes at the table, listening in on their conversation. Something was...strange about this whole affair, something that was rubbing her a little wrong. Blaith seemed a little too jovial in that forced, unnatural way that always made her skin crawl. And those little underhanded jabs he made at Calent...?

Her eyes narrowed a fraction, her body tense. Those were the kinds of jokes friends made amongst themselves, but from the way Calent reacted, those two did not have that sort of familiarity. She shifted a little under the tension--but maybe she was only projecting, because Calent seemed unfazed.

And she didn't trust this man.

Though, to be fair, she could only afford to trust Calent and Zannrick until the murderer was found, even if Blaith could possibly aid their search, as Calent had said. For now, though, she bit her tongue to keep from saying anything and waited patiently like the escort she was supposed to be. It wasn't her place to speak while the dukes spoke, only to observe until she was given permission.

The talk eventually moved from the veranda inside, where dinner of roast quail had been served, and duck onion soup on the side. Though so many assortments of lush side dishes were prepared, Zannrick kept himself reserved when he ate, taking dainty, trained bites, despite his hands being more skilled with a blade. But he had been through this enough before, and kept his ears ever alert, and one eye always on the shadows.

"I am glad to see Turgall will support the knew laws," Calent began, as he was nearing the completion of his meal.

"Support, but of course!" Blaith went on, his voice a bit too loud and eager, or so Zannrick thought- and his smile, his smile came too easily, and that irked Zannrick. But he only thought of it as something bitter, for he knew well enough Blaith had tried to vie for the position of Grand Duke- and lost by a land slide. He knew well enough he was kissing ass just to keep his relations amicable. "Naturally I would support anything to keep our nation safe."

Though it was only here Calent oh so coolly brought up the one fact left unsaid.
"That is good to hear, considering your opinions on the matter was intensely different than my own when we were both vying for the sea tof Grand Duke."

But Blaith was quick to laugh at this as he lifted his goblet towards Calent.
"But of course I'm sore!" he admitted amicably. "What man would not be? Such a position is fought over tooth and nail, though it is no secret that this meeting between us was to be.I just wanted to inform you there are no hard feelings over the matter, and to keep our country unified, naturally I would be in support of you."

Calent stared at Blaith for a good long while before taking a sip from his own goblet.
"That is good to hear. I'd hate to see our country come to war. The duchies have been rather silent as of lately. I'd prefer to keep it that way if I can, to make this transition of new orders as smooth as possible."

"Then let us keep our relations open- Turgall, naturally, is at your disposal, all you have to do is ask."

It was tempting to dive right into her meal, for Emery was not only sleep deprived but also starving, having not eaten since...sometime the day before, she forgot exactly when. Unfortunately, she couldn't just stuff her face as she wished, for she was not in the barracks, but among nobility. She was representing Calent, and this issue was bigger than her stomach. And so she forced herself to emulate Zannrick, taking small, slow bites and finishing when Calent finished.

As much as it pained her, for the meal was good and her belly hungered for more, she made sure to leave food behind on her plate out of politeness--to show Blaith's household had provided more than enough, rather than too little.

Sigh.

As the servants began to clear away the plates, all she could think about was that her portion would probably go to some dogs or pigs somewhere.

Probably good it was taken away, though; it meant she could focus more on what mattered.

And what mattered was that Blaith was still rubbing her the wrong way, and she found herself narrowing her eyes at the man before she realized she was--and quickly schooled her expression into something more placid, hoping he hadn't noticed. But he seemed more interested in Calent than in she or Zannrick, who were merely his hounds.

But he still felt like he was trying far too hard. Hos honesty felt forced, like he was trying to put them all at ease through transparency--disclosing his disappointment and soreness in a way that made him seem a good sport. She would have to see what Calent felt of that later.

Most of the evening went about the same way. Blaith would laugh, throw out a joke, try to remain the ever jovial and pleasant host, but even Calent could tell it was a bit forced. So when it was time to retire for the evening, just about everyone was spent, and naturally, the mordecai had their own rooms, and would remain on flanking ends of the hall where Calent would sleep.

Though Calent protested the need for either to remain on duty as he slept, Zannrick wasn't satisfied with such a suggestion. Though perhaps it was lack of sleep or his own paranoid nature getting the better of him, as he departed from his duke, he scowled as he moved alongside Emery.

"Do you honestly think he expects us to remain asleep all night while he sleeps in the home of his enemy? Though I know it sounds bold to say, I do not trust this Duke Harmond," he said bitterly, his lips sagging in disgust. "And to think, we'll have to put up with him for Duke Allarrick's entire rein." And he sighed irritably at the thought.

Emery couldn't help it; despite her resistance she yawned, and quickly hid her mouth behind her hand.

"Oi, sorry. Ah, no. Honestly, you aren't alone in your thoughts," she said when she was done, and twisted her torso to pop her spine. After over twenty four hours of no sleep, and another sleepless night ahead of her, she felt herself growing trapped between restlessness and fatigue. If she didn't keep busy, she could tell she would drift off.

"The man smiled too much. And his jokes were..." She made a face, stretching the scar crossing her mouth. "Rather tasteless. As though by putting everything in the open, he could make himself seem transparent and safe. You could cut his bitterness with a knife, though, and it would leave behind a slimy residue."

Leaning her back against the wall, she gave Zannrick a look. "All that said...sleep isn't a bad idea." And before he could protest, she held up a hand. "Sleep in shifts. I don't know about you, Zannrick, but Calent has a point there. If both of us are sleep deprived, how useful are we going to be to him?"

Zannrick gave a snort.
"Then I suppose I shall go first?"

"Sleeping, or watching?" Emery asked, and shrugged her shoulders after. "Get some sleep. I can last another few hours."

Zannrick gave a nod.
"Very well then," And he moved to retire for the night. Though it was uneventful, the Duke of Turgall had nothing planned, but even come the morning- Zannrick was still wary. Nothing happened during his watch. Nothing happened during hers. And their trip had already come to an end and they were safely escorting Calent Allarrick back to his home. Though Zannrick said nothing, many emotions were brewing within.

The trip home was unremarkable, as well. Or at least, it had been so far. And Zannrick was, well...he was broody and quiet, as he had been for much of the trip.

Pulling her horse alongside Zannrick's, Emery nodded to him. "You've been quiet," she said. "Something wrong?"

At her inquiry, it seemed his frown deepened as he released an irritable sigh.
"That went too well," he nearly spat, but didn't speak it loud enough for Calent to hear them. "Don't you feel as if something was fake about the whole ordeal? There was too much flattery, too much willing to please, too much agreeable nature for what we all know of the Duke of Turgall's reputation."

"Of course I do," Emery said, frowning. "That man had greasy written all over him, and I wouldn't trust him as far as I could throw him. But what can we do about that?"

She sighed, the sound frustrated. "We have no proof that anything is wrong. Only speculation."

"I know. Just keep your eye on him- and to the shadows," Zannrick reminded. "We're not out of the clear yet." Yet it seemed their ride back to the Duchy of Allar was relatively uneventful, which had the mordecai even more brooding as the Duke was lead inside, and he tailed after like a hound. He was simmering, but said nothing- though the fire was evident in his icy blue eyes.

Emery followed after, silent as Zannrick and filled with a growing sort of nervous dread, because this entire situation reeked of Not Right. Now that they were back, this was their first real chance to speak to Callent--and she sincerely hoped they would get the opportunity to take to him candidly about their visit.

And she hoped, sincerely, that she and Zannrick hadn't been alone in their observations.

Moving their horses to the stables, Zannrick took notice of the stable, it having been cleaned since they had left. But hedid not remark on it, rather, he remained quiet and once he was all finished there, he approached Emry and gave a nod to her.
"Let's see if Calent has any new orders for us." And he moved past her, heading for the gate.

"Alright," Emery said, once she had dismounted and handed her horse off to a stable hand. But as Zannrick moved past her and took off without anything more than those curt words, she picked up her pace to catch up with him, and bumped elbows with him to get his attention.

"Are you angry with me?" she asked, voice low.

It had been gnawing at her for some time, and maybe she was reading into things, but to her it felt like he'd been acting weird around her every since she'd put on that dress.

He paused in midstride and turned to look at her from over his shoulder.
"Angry?" His eyes narrowed. "Yes." But then he turned away. "Just not at you."

"At the situation, then," Emery said, muscles relaxing. Good. She had felt...rather awkward since that moment, but of course. It figured she'd be alone in that, and that she was just being paranoid.

This entire ordeal was a breeding ground of paranoia, that's for sure.

It was actually to Zannrick's surprise that when they entered the castle, Calent did not wish to speak with them. But he did not show it as he remained rigid and nodded, and moved to depart his room. But even though he didn't say it, as he moved down the hall- one could swear they could hear him spit out venomous words beneath his breath.