Please don't post if you aren't one of the names in the title, thank you!

Alden (AHL-duhn) — "Wise protector."

Garrick (GAIR-ik) — "Spear-ruler."

Gender: Male, He/Him

Sexuality: Straight.

Age: Twenty-three years old.

Moral Alignment: Lawful Good.

Occupation: Knight. He guards the members of the royal family while they are in the kingdom, and escorts them when they travel.

Appearance: Alden has the hardened face of someone who's had to persevere, with sharp features all-around. A diamond-shaped face that's both parts strong and structured with a pinch of elegance, the face is overall long. A narrow, yet sharp jawline and prominent cheekbones. He has the eyes of a person who has something to prove - determined and just a tad bit uncertain. They are a light, muted green in color, like the grass of the countryside. In shape, they are slightly hooded, sometimes giving him a drowsy or constantly exasperated appearance. He's fair-skinned and burns easily in the sun; luckily he's always wearing his armor. Alden has pale, dusky-brown hair that is cut to his chin. Styled neatly, without much care.
His physique is important to maintain, as it helps him in his job. Broad-shoulders is something he's always had, but through intensive training, has developed muscle tone around the arms and legs. His upper body is built for strength, tapering off into a narrow waist for agility. He stands at a height of 6'1.
His attire is armor - clean, gleaming silver. Worn over padded garments and chain mail. Decorated in regalia with the royal family's house crest. He seemed to pointedly avoid putting his own family's crest on his armor.

Personality: A true working man. Quick, precise, and hardly complains. He hardly lets out a word unless you start the conversation. His one priority is the royal family; he serves them first and foremost, even putting them above himself.

He is very solemn on the surface. He almost seems to be impenetrable wall. However, if you're close to him in the right moment, you will see that silent yet intense eagerness to show his loyalty to the royal family. It manifests as a tiny spark - a flicker of light in his eyes.

Another thing you'll find when dealing with him, he's quick-witted. When you least expect it, he'll surprise you with a sardonic quip and an airy chuckle. You won't be able to tell if he's laughing at you or with you.

Overall, Alden is a man with a steadfast commitment, pledging all of his loyalty to people who most likely consider him a disposable body.

Voice: Clear and sharp, like a forceful gust of wind.

Assidious: Careful, methodical, and persistent.

Rock-steady: Calm and reliable under pressure, to a certain degree.

Focused: When he sets his mind to a task, he won't allow himself to be distracted.

Principled: Acts in accordance with strong moral principles.

Unreliable: This might be contradictory to his established traits. However, he is unreliable in the sense that he would throw anyone - no matter how close they are to him - under the bus if that meant getting a sliver of attention from the royal family.

Attention-seeking: He seems unbothered on the outside, like he doesn't pay attention to others' opinions. But he does. He needs validation from his peers and authority figures.

Overcompensating: An overachiever. He'll take on too much at a time to show his dedication.

Blunt: If you are not someone he respects, he will be brutally honest towards you.

Failure

Betrayal

Gender: Female, She/Her

Sexuality: Straight

Age: Twenty-one years old

Moral Alignment: Chaotic Neutral

Occupation: Theif. She makes her living by taking from those who have plenty to give. She sells baked goods on occasion as well. Maybe she made them, maybe she didn't.

Appearance: Tove bears the features of a woman far too innocent of her actions. She's delicately made, with high cheek bones and a thin, swan-like neck. Her lips are full and pink, though often a bit swoll from her habit of biting them. Her jawline is soft, gentle, much like the slope of her slightly upturned little nose. Her eyes, doe-like and wide in shape, are a brilliant glacier blue with silvery flecks nearing the pupil. Her eyes are encased by long, thick lashes, adding to her doe-eyed appearance, wide and always watching. Her skin is warmed with a golden tan, far different from that of noble and royal women and men who can spend their days inside, unmarred by the sun or by laborious work. Tove's hair is as dark as the night sky, the raven black nearly appearing a midnight blue when the light hits it just right. She keeps it long, down to her waist, but it is almost always contained into a braid so that it does not obstruct her view while working.

Tove's physique is honed to perfection. She appears soft and malleable, but the truth is that she had shaped herself into the perfect little thief. She is slender, though she thickens in the hips and gives way to strong, power legs made for running and climbing. Her arms, though thin, were just strong enough to support her weight during climbs. She wasn't made for strength, but for endurance. She stands at an unimpressionable 5'3". Innocent and perfectly unseeming. Not.

Tove's attire generally consists of well fitting tunics and leggings of dark leather. She often wears a matching padded leather corset as well to protect herself when she's doing.. naughty jobs. Very rarely will she wear a gown, unless she's aiming to blend in with a certain crowd.

Personality: Perfectly unpredictable. One never truly knows what is on Tove's mind, even if she states it bluntly. She can change it in an instance, rarely calculating each aspect before making her move. She's wild and spontaneous, but it is part of what makes her good at her job. She puts herself first and foremost. To hell with everyone else.

Tove is cocky and prideful on the outside. She holds herself to a higher standard than how she appears to the nobles. What makes them any better than her supposedly aside from wealth and status? Nothing. Nothing at all. However, beneath all the pride and snarky attitude, one might find a heart yearning for more than her meager life of thievery. She adores the soft moments were banter seems more like witty playfulness. She notices and appreciates the small things, even when she shouldn't. Then, before you know it, she's wanting to serve more than herself. Her trust and loyalty cannot be easily won, but it is not locked away completely either.

Over all, Tove is just surviving, gaining her thrills in life wherever she can get them. She's head strong and fiery, but it's what she has learned to be in a world so harsh. Nothing else really matters, so long she's had a little fun.

Voice: Soft and melodic, somewhat like a siren's call.

Unpredictable: She can make choices within a split second, and more often than not it's the right one that saves her ass.

Stealth: Tove has spent years learning how to become one with the shadows. Silence and invisibility have gotten her a long way.

Seductive: Being the stunning, manipulative woman that she is, Tove has learned that men (and some women) are very easy to sway when being flirted with and fawned over.
Observational: Tove is always watching and waiting. Barely a thing ever goes unnoticed by her haunting eyes.

Touch-Starved: It has been a long time since she's ever felt the touch of someone who seems to care. If she thinks you truly want to comfort her, she'll fall right into your grasp with open arms.

Egotistical: She is smart and prideful, but sometimes that gets her into trouble when she thinks too highly of herself.

Deceptive: Tove will lie to get herself out of trouble. She will make promises and break them just as quickly if it means she's safe.

Reckless: Tove rarely ever cares about what might happen to others. Their safety is of no concern to her if it means she'll live to see another day. She doesn't even care if her choices get her injured, if it means securing her freedom or getting what it is that she wants.

Deep water

Complete loneliness

(I'll start!)

This was shaping up to be one of the most stressful days of Alden's life.

He found himself rushing through the castle halls, which seemed to yawn endlessly into the void that was the distance. In the process, he dodged and weaved his way around servants and other knights.

With his helmet tucked into his arm, Alden stumbled into the throne room. It would've been an utterly dark abyss if not for the candles hanging on the walls, stinging his eyes.

In the center of it all, stood the throne, with the monarch of Fernhull perched on it. Regal and dignified like the lion on the royal family's crest, sat King Remfrey. It was his grizzled, worn-torn face and beady, pig-like eyes that scared his enemies - and even his allies - into not crossing him.

"Your majesty," Alden breathed, sweeping himself into a bow. "I've come to report on the perimeter-check of the castle grounds."

"Go on," King Remfrey's voice came suddenly and forceful, like the snort of a bull.

Alden straightened, his free arm falling behind his back. "I'm pleased to report that no threats were found near the castle."

"Splendid..." the King trailed off, eyes glazing over contemplatively.

Alden's gaze flicked briefly towards the vague direction of the door, but he ultimately decided not to leave until he was dismissed. The king abruptly rose to his feet and his full, staggering height. He lumbered over to Alden.

"I want everything to go perfectly for Idonia's wedding. She is the only child of myself and the Queen, and she is so very precious to us."

The King ran a hand over his silver beard before continuing. "I will not tolerate any... mishaps. Understood?"

Alden's armor felt two sizes too large all of a sudden, although he knew it fit perfectly. Was the King threatening him?

His lips pinched together tightly as he met King Remfrey's stone-cold gaze. Alden swallowed the lump that had suddenly built in his throat, a bitter, metallic taste in his mouth. He thought he might be sick.

"I understand, my liege," he managed to respond evenly.

"Good, then you are dismissed."

Alden turned around stiffly, wanting to run out the door, but instead he settled for a fast-paced walk.

As soon as he left the throne room, he felt a hand clap him on the shoulder. He looked over and dizzily perceived the round, tanned face of Andreas Hawthorne - usually addressed as Sir Andreas, all the knights referred to each other as "Sir." He smiled at Alden initially, but his expression wilted away into something concerned.

"Are you alright? You look as if you just learned you were going to be executed! You're... not actually getting executed right?"

Not yet, Alden thought. He shook his head. "Everything went fine. I'm just, uh, at my wit's end here. Too much commotion."

Alden didn't wait for Sir Andreas to respond as he spoke again. "If you'll excuse me... I'll be at the stables."

He pushed past the other man, who luckily, didn't seem to question Alden further. He slipped through the nearest exit and found himself amongst overarching stone walls and dirt paths.

Alden took the one leading away from the castle, the trail curling and twisting in accordance with the natural land. After passing under one more archway, the walls spread out, curving into a wide circle with a lush field in its midst.

In the middle of it all, stood the stable.

The barn was constructed of stone to match the castle's walls, and the frames were timber. Something that was abundant in the kingdom; the castle was surrounded by oak trees. Alden approached, shoving his way through one of the large barn doors.

The man who tended to the horses greeted him jovially, to which Alden replied with a tepid "hello." Alden swiftly moved past him, seeking out a stall towards the back of the building.

The clacking of his sabatons prompted a big, brown head to poke out above a stall's gate.

Something rare happened, and nobody else was around to witness it. Alden smiled. He rushed to his horse, stroking his muzzle and pushing his thick, black forelock out of his eyes.

His name was Bear, fittingly enough. The large gelding had been with Alden through thick and thin. The pair had never been separated. Bear was a horse on Alden's family farm, born to one of the plow horses. Alden had raised him from a colt, and brought him with when he left home to become a knight.

Alden liked to think he owed his success to this kind horse. Without him, Alden would have snapped at some point along the way.

Bear was the best listener Alden knew; he could unload all of his problems onto the gelding and he would give back his full attention.

Alden needed this horse to ground him, now more than ever.

With a sigh, his head sunk onto Bear's nose, and Alden's eyes fell shut.

(thanks!)
A royal wedding. What better opportunity could she have asked for? The guards, there'd be plenty, but they'd be all too focused on ensuring that the celebration went off without a hitch. They wouldn't be looking in the far off halls for a little rat slipping through the shadows. There'd be too much commotion, too many drunken women and men in fine garb for them to worry about much else than keeping the peace and watching the party.

How many heirlooms would she be able to make out with? How much coin would she make off of one well executed run? Certainly enough to where she could survive a few winters or so comfortably. Plus, just hearing about her handy work in the days to come would be incredibly satisfying.

"You look as though you are plotting, Tove. Planning to stir up some trouble again?" An old voice crooned at her from the alley way, making a smile curve at her plump lips as she pulled out of her thoughts. "When am I not planning to get into trouble, Bernard?" She mused as she approached the old beggar, his beady brown eyes glued to her sauntering form with amusement. "Just don't lose your head, girl," he chuckled, shifting in his wooden chair, making it creak and groan. "I'd never- Who'd bring you little goodies then?" She quipped, passing over a clothed bundle to the man. It was warm and fragrant with fresh bread and bits of cheese- The good kind, not the moldy, questionable sort. He offered her a warm smile, his wrinkly hand reaching out to pat her arm before shooing her on after they'd exchanged a few more words. It was mostly just Bernard warning her to be careful, but that was alright. At least someone gave a damn about her to some extent. She couldn't linger longer, however. She had a party to prepare for.

Tove spent the next couple of hours dressing herself to the standard of those she despised. She had to take a new approach, if she wished to be as invisible as possible. She had no doubt that there would be patrols within and outside of the palace, but they'd be looking for trouble, not for those who appeared as wedding guests. Her face was relatively known, but she was only worried about one man in particular, a certain knight who foiled her plans at every turn. Most of the time. Perhaps if she changed up her appearance, he wouldn't be so quick to notice her. As long as he didn't see her face, she should be fine.. which was really easier said than done.

Regardless, Tove stared at her reflection in near disgust. She looked good, she really did, but she had always hated dresses. The silky material clung to her torso before loosening around her hips and legs, and the skirt had been split open along one side. It gave her the freedom to move, but not nearly as much as she pleased if it came down to climbing or running. The deep blue complimented her skin and her hair, which cascaded down her back in its natural loose waves. Gods, she looked like a woman. She strapped a dagger to her thigh, a smaller knife to her ankle. She wouldn't dare go in unarmed. Her dress had been altered with deep, deep pockets, hopefully large enough to stash countless jewels and gold pieces into. It should have been a perfect plan, and now she just needed to get into the palace.

Luckily for her, Tove had learned all the little secret exits that servants used when they were trying to be discreet. She merely pushed aside a specific curtain of moss in the cobblestone wall before slipping inside the tiny crevice. She peeked out to ensure that she wouldn't be seen sneaking inside before stepping out into the open once more. Keeping her head down, Tove made her way calmly through the courtyard while sticking to the outskirts, determined to get inside as quickly as possible. So far, so good. Getting out would be the hard part.

Alden was still embracing his horse, earning a questionable glance from the stablehand.

He'd crawled his way into his current role, fought tooth and nail, but never let his honor slip.

Did the King not trust him?

Why would he be made one of the royal family's guards, then?

Did the King want Alden close so he could haunt him with the infamous legacy of his father?

Alden's blood curled. Wymond Green was no father to him. He shed that title long ago.

Alden stood upright, a new determination surging through him. He would do everything within and outside of his will to make sure the day went smoothly.

With that, he gave Bear a pat on the neck before whirling around and marching out of the barn. Alden was very much prepared to work himself down to the bone - if nobody would give him a task, he'd find something to do anyway.

He took a different path around the castle this time, this time ending up in the gardens. A herd of fair maidens were admiring the columbines. He recognized them from past events, they were all daughters of the rulers from allied kingdoms.

Alden nodded coridially towards them, evading conversation as he moved on.

He was headed for the nearest courtyard. It was a rather sacred place, as it was where the King and Queen's wedding had been held. It was frowned upon for folk outside of their court to go wandering around here.

And oddly enough, that was exactly what he found. An outsider, presumably, creeping along the outer edge.

The stranger was clad in silk of midnight blue. Her hair dark, gleaming in the meager sunlight like obsidian, falling in waves around her face, which was kept low. He could not see her features.

Her identity came up blank in the eye of his mind. Had the King made a new alliance that Alden didn't know about? Perhaps this newcomer was with the group of ladies in the garden, went exploring, and found herself here.

But until he figured out who she was, his guard was up.

He strode over to her, but slowed his pace as he got nearer, not wanting to seem like a threat. He knew as much, that people on high alert would get defensive, and he'd get no answers.

"Pardon me, madam, but are you lost?" he called to her.

The courtyard was always empty, but she could hear the chattering of ladies near by. It would have been wise of her to join them and use them as cover, but it would look so strange for her to just appear within their group all alone. No, it would be easier for her to make way inside and lose herself to the crowd there, even if looting jewels off of the wealthy women sounded like easy money. She simply couldn't get greedy so early in. She already had a plan in mind and knew exactly which rooms she'd need to visit. It was going to be fool proof.
Or, so she thought.
The clunking of armor alerted Tove that she was no longer alone, but she kept moving as if she was meant to be there while admiring the greenery and statues within the courtyard. Please don't be him. Let it be a stupid litte guard that's easily fooled...

Tove repeated those words in her head like a prayer, knowing good and well that if the meddling knight was coming upon her that her plans would be ruined. She had been certain that the guards' patrol had already passed through that section of the palace, but perhaps she should have taken into account that patrols would have been increased due to the wedding.

Then came his voice. That infuriatingly, familiar voice that made her stomach absolutely drop. Of course fate would have him interrupting her again. She could tell he did not yet recognize her, but she knew the moment she showed her face he'd know who she was. They had far too many close encounters for him not to. At least, she had certainly memorized his strong, handsome features, but she enjoyed knowing everything about the people she was evading.

Tove paused where she'd been walking and angled herself slightly towards the approaching knight, her head still low and her shoulders dropped as if she was just a shy, nervous little thing.
"Ah.. I don't believe. I may have gotten ahead of myself while exploring, however," she responded, softening her voice into something mellow and sweet. She wasn't sure if he'd recognize her or not, but she didn't plan on giving him the time either. "Please forgive me, sir.. I'll return to the gardens," she added before turning to try and make for the gardens.

Only, that would require for her to hurry past him and risk him stopping her or catching a glimpse of her face. But, she was hopeful that he'd let her go without further question. At least if she made it into the gardens, she could threaten him with making a dramatic scene in front of everyone else. If she was able to get there.

When he didn't immediately recognize her voice, Tove was rather relieved. She knew he was probably used to her being more bold and quipping harsh things at him rather than feigning sweet innocence. Gods above, he'd have a fit if he discovered who she was.

She was ready to hurry along and out of sight until he more or less demanded that he'd be escorting her. Her steps faltered and she cursed silently as her irritation grew. She wouldn't be able to keep hiding her face with him right next to her. Sure, her hair would help shield her some, but she couldn't avoid eye contact forever.

Tove paused where she stood and made a small show of shifting her weight from one foot to the other in discomfort. Perhaps if he thought she was uncomfortable or intimidated by his presence he wouldn't bother her too much. It was bad enough that she wouldn't be able to avoid the women in the gardens with him watching her, but she'd make do somehow.

"O-Oh... Very well then. I suppose I cannot deny such a gentlemanly offer," she finally spoke, purposefully speaking with hesitancy as she glanced up with a meek smile and rosy cheeks. She only gave him a glimpse before she was looking away again. She knew very well that he wasn't simply being hospitable. The last thing that the nosy knight was, was stupid. He had the nose of a bloodhound for trouble, and she was just the brand he liked to chase. He was suspicious of her, but she was determined to shake him off.

Clearing her throat quietly, Tove clasped her hands together at her waist as though to make it silently clear that she wouldn't be taking his arm or hand, even if most maidens would trip over themselves to be hanging off to his side. The last thing she needed was him having his hands on her and discovering who she was.

"Shall we go on our way then? I'd hate to keep you occupied for long. I'm certain that you have plenty of important duties to uphold that take precedence over escorting ladies," she mused, even going as far as to let a soft giggle escape her lips. Ugh, she couldn't take it much longer.