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Lightbringer
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Plot A brutal, feared king conquers a rebel nation and captures a notorious spy/assassin who was working against him. Instead of execution, he offers a strange deal: stay close to him, serve him as a personal advisor... or die. The spy agrees—but is secretly plotting to kill him. However, as political games turn personal and their nightly arguments burn hotter, betrayal becomes complicated. |
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Lightbringer
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Saved for Additional Information Kingdoms Mirkov King of Mirkov - Vladimir Khilkov Servants - Hannah Cooper Simon Fletcher A cold harsh land with less sun and lots of ice. Nysharal Ruler of Nysharal - Alejandro Romani Kaari Virell It is a kingdom that has four seasons. |
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Darkseeker
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»»———- ———-««
Kaari "Ri" Virell »»———- ———-«« Gender: Female Age: 27 Sexuality: Heterosexual - Appearance: She is a slip of a woman, small and easily over looked, and that is just the way that she likes it. She carries herself with confidence, but not quite arrogance. Her height of 5'3" gives her the ability to seem small and unimposing, but that isn't quite the case. She has an athletic and fit body, strong where it most counts. She may not look it, but she has plenty of muscle to go along with her dangerous skill set. She's pure woman, hour glass figure and all, with a cunning edge and a promise of exciting danger.
Her face is heart shaped, her cheek bones high and rosy and her jaw line soft yet defined. Her nose slopes gently until the tip, where it curves upwards into a cute little button. Her lips are soft and plump, hiding a breath taking— or occasionally terrifying pearly white smile. Her doe like eyes are circled by dark, long lashes. Their color are like that glacier ice, bright and crystalline. They are rather unsettling, piercing into the deepest part of one's soul as if she can stare straight into it. When the light hits, they almost seem to glow, giving her an even more ethereal look.
Kaari has pale, porcelain skin, littered with scars. Only her face is safe from the marring, but as for the rest of her, thin, shinning scars remind her of all the times she had almost met death whilst serving it up to others. Her hair is long and thick, the lucious blonde color gleaming whenever the sunlight hits. It has a natural curl, though typically it is kept tied back into a braid with rogue pieces framing her face. When working, she often finds herself wearing a hood and a mask that covers the lower portion of her face, leaving mostly her eyes visible to the unfortunate souls that meet the end of her blade. She prefers the feel of leather armor and leggings on her person, but she has been known on occasion to dress formally, like the lady she most definitely is not. She'll wear gossamer silk of the highest quality for her most special appearances in court and even jewels at her neck. She may feel out of place, but she certainly won't look it.
Personality: Kaari is a master of masks— a chameleon in both shadow and society. As an assassin and spy, she has built her reputation on precision, ruthlessness, and a razor-sharp mind that misses almost nothing. Every movement, every glance, every word from her lips is calculated, often laced with double meaning or quiet threat. She walks through noble courts with the poise of a lady and stalks through moonlit alleys with the silence of death itself. Her reputation precedes her, whispered in fear and fascination alike, for Kaari does not miss her mark, and she does not show mercy.
Her cunning-ness is her greatest weapon, rivaled only by her ability to seduce and manipulate. Kaari understands the power of desire and isn’t afraid to wield it. A flirtatious smile, a brush of her fingers, a feigned vulnerability? Those are as deadly as any blade she carries. She uses charm like a dagger, slipping it between the cracks of her enemies’ defenses until they bleed secrets. Yet, her beauty is a shield just as much as it is a lure; few see the calculating fire behind her eyes until it’s too late.
But beneath the hardened steel of her exterior lies a woman forged by loss, betrayal, and isolation. Her stone heart was not born— it was built, one painful memory at a time. Those rare few who break through her defenses discover someone unexpectedly tender. Kaari feels deeply, though she rarely shows it; loyalty, when earned, is given completely. Her laughter, when it comes, is genuine and bright, almost startling in contrast to the cold persona she wears like armor. In the quiet moments between missions, when she can finally breathe, the true Kaari flickers to life: warm, playful, and achingly human.
She longs for connection, though she rarely admits it, and fears that softness makes her weak. But that same emotional depth gives her strength most underestimate. Kaari is not just a killer or a spy, she is a survivor. And in a world built on secrets, steel, and blood, it is the woman beneath the mask who just might be the most dangerous of all. »»———- ———-«« |
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Lightbringer
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“You have to be okay with dying. «———» ♣ «———» Vladimir "Vlad" Khilkov «———» ♣ «———» I am not saying that you shouldn't fight for your life. Gender Male Age 29 years Appearance He has an aura about him that causes men to want to follow him and believe that he will win whatever fight he has set his mind to. It could be because of his height, his girth, or the way he confidently carries himself, never not making eye contact and never backing down once he makes a stand. He stands over most men at 6' 4," and he has a powerful endomorphic thick-set build. His girth is not invisible, because he is thick and dense with muscle. He also retains more fat than other builds. He has a rounder softer torso, not a chiseled muscular build. He has shorter arms and a longer torso. He has large meaty hands and wide feet. His legs are as big around as small tree trunks. He has shaggy dark brown hair that is kind of wavy but short. It brushes the top of his brow in a jagged messy line. It is still long enough to tickle the back of his neck and ears. On casual formal occassions he wears a simple circlet set on his head. He has a heavy iron crown to wear to make a point, and a rich golden alloy crown with jewels for the most special of occassions such as his coronation. He has a more rectangular/square face. His forehead is beginning to form wrinkle lines. His jaw line is covered in a full beard softening the edge. The beard is full, and roughly cut short. He has deep set green grey eyes with some golden flecks that sometimes make his eyes look hazel. He has wide bushy brows above his eyes. He has a low nose bridge, but a bulbous end to his nose. He has lighter skin that has a weathered tan from all of the campaigns he has carried out. He prefers to wear more plain practical clothing. It rarely has embelleshments such as embroidery, and it is made out of more common durable material such as cotton, linen, or wool instead of silk or brocade. If it weren't for his reputation more people would have a tendency to mistake him for a general instead of the king. From the way he carries himself and treats others, he is clearly used to leading. He does have more extravagant clothing for important events and meeting dignitaries from foreign kingdoms, but he rarely deigns to pull them out, preferring to save his money for other things. He generally wears, blues, greys, greens, browns, and blacks. A few of his outfits are red, and if his clothing has an accent color it is often gold. He may have one outfit that is purple. Personality He is a soldier-king well known for his skill in battle and ruthlessness to enemies and traitors. He has been known to wipe out whole houses that have stood against him. Generally, executions are quick unless it is for a traitor, then all bets are off. He values loyalty and trust. If he can find someone who will be loyal to him through any of his ups and downs, then he is very forgiving of their inability to carry out his commands perfectly. He does not take betrayal lightly. It would be better to have been his outright enemy, and he is not kind to his enemies. He is known to be extremely stubborn, and he prefers to take the most direct route. He has a reputation for a short temper, and being a direct communicator. He is known to be a blunt force who batters others into submission instead of manipulating or gently influencing someone to get his way. He acts with bullheaded confidence as that generally serves to get him his way. Many who serve him do not see the subtle ways he gets people to do his bidding underneath his fearsome surface. One aspect of him that may surprise people is his ability to sweet talk someone into doing something. He also has many loyal to him serving him who help him manipulate people into states of minds that are more agreeable to him. It is not unusual for him to yell in anger or throw an object that will shatter. He loves to smash a glass to demonstrate his approval. He has large emotions and he displays them conspicuously. He can be spiteful if he is told no or it is impossible, and he will spend years planning on how to make it happen such as a certain tribal people refusing to be conquered. He enjoys watching people and learning more about them from a distance without them learning the same amount of information about him. He keeps track of a lot of people's habits, so that he will be aware if he should be concerned if someone's habits change. «———» ♣ «———» Soldiers who do not want to live are anathema, but you can't be so terrified of dying that you will disobey orders. Can you do that?"
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Lightbringer
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«———» ♣ «———» It was significantly warmer down south in Nysharal where King Vladimir Khilkov had taken the fighting after the Nysharans had refused to surrender after Vladimir ordered that they give the Empire of Mirkov sufficient farming land in the warmer climate to produce food that would support the harsh and icy kingdom. There was sunlight bathing his tent, and Vladimir was glad for the shade that his tent brought. His tent was not the best constructed as it would be too cold to use in the colder climate of his own kingdom. They had gotten it while being in Nysharal, and his people still were not experts with them. There was a ground tarp in his tent, but when he stepped outside he crunched grass underneath his boots instead of snow. Vladimir Khilkov was eating his roast pheasant with his bare hands in his personal tent settled in a wooden chair. He was contemplating on how to keep the freshly conquered Nysharal tribe under his control and subdued. They had managed to resist him longer than he would have liked. He was becoming used to kingdoms surrendering soon after clashing with his armies because of his fearsome reputation. If they surrendered quickly, they got better terms of surrender in return. He was contemplating if killing all of the major leaders would cripple Nysharal or if it would only give them martyrs to continue fighting to the death for. He wiped his hands on the napkin beside his plate before he arose and grabbed his battle axe from pegs above the tent entrance. It was time to deal with one of the symbols of the resistance in his camp. He stepped out of his tent and blinked for a few moments adjusting to the direct bright midafternoon sunlight that had been much dimmer inside the tent. He closed his eyes enjoying the warmth and the breeze that rustled through his green long sleeved linen shirt. He could leave his heavy warm fur cloak inside the tent. He made eye contact with one of his guards. With a sharp nod, he growled an order, “Bring her forward.” There were signs on his battleaxe where he had had to sharpen the blade back into a sharp straight edge after it chipped in battle. While he had a skilled headsman for quick executions, he wanted to make a point and get his hands dirty. He would behead this one himself. She was a representation of the dirty underhanded aspects of war. Somehow they had chosen this small slip of a woman to be one of their greatest spies. Who knew how much useful information she had communicated back to her ruler? Too many of Vladimir’s men had underestimated her and assumed that she was harmless and talked about information that they should not have said in front of her. He gestured his axe toward his regular headsman who was wearing the executioner’s hood. “Read why she is being executed.” He turned to his guards, “Bring forward a block. Make her kneel before it…Oh yeah, I guess blindfold her. That’s a common practice isn’t it?” “Kaari Virell has been found guilty of being a spy during a time of war. Her actions have resulted in the deaths of many Mirkovians,” announced the headsman, before he interrupted himself, “Your Highness. Shouldn’t she be offered a chance to talk to a religious man? I know there are a few religions in the area.” “Hasn’t that been done already to prepare her?” Vladimir asked. The guards nodded together that they had made that attempt. “I apologize to Your Highness. Of course you would’ve had that taken care of.” Kaari Virell, the Nysharal spy; Vladimir’s men had captured her before the official surrender of Nysharal, and the Nysharans had had no room to negotiate for specific treatment of non-innocents in the war. Without any perceivable emotion, he warned her, “I wouldn’t move if I were you. You don’t want me to miss your neck and die a slower, much more painful death.” His muscles bunched together as he swung his axe. He aimed it at the block of wood near her face instead of her neck; the axe blade was barely visible because of how deeply it bit into the wood. “Let’s talk Virell,” he leaned down close to her ear. He was so close that she could feel his breath on her face even through the blindfold. He straightened knowing that no one else but her had heard him and pulled out his axe with a little bit of effort. He gestured for his guards to bring her to his tent, which he reentered. He settled back into his nice wooden chair while he had her sit on the ground, figuring she’d be a little shaky after her neardeath experience. “I have a proposition for you Ms. Virell,” he told her, “I want you to serve me, and I want you to become one of my loyal advisors. It will take time for both of us to build trust. If you hate me so much that this wouldn’t be possible, then you can die. We will need a new execution block, but there is not much delaying your end. I might even mess up your execution on purpose,” he threatened his facial expression hardening. “Perhaps I shall miss my mark twice. I would prefer that you help me figure out how to keep your people subdued. I can do it the hard way and fight for every inch until your people squashed and have no fight left, but I think it would be an easier transition if I didn’t give them more martyrs to rally behind. I need to finish what I came to accomplish here. I believe that seeing you work for me will help me achieve peace.” Some might have admonished Vladimir for being too honest. He preferred to speak honestly, and he hoped that she would see the benefit of his words. Either that, or it would give him time to find a better moment to execute her, and he could say that he had tried to come to a more peaceful solution. «———» ♣ «———» |
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Darkseeker
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»»———- -———«« Getting caught by the army of Mirkov had been the last thing that Kaari had expected. Her efforts to remain unnoticed had been almost seamless, but she had let a moment of compassion for an innocent soul become her ruin. A child had witnessed her murder a man, and while protocol meant that she was to kill the Mirkovian child, that simply was not who Kaari was, assassin or not. Children were the only exception in her brain, and that exception got her captured and prepped for execution at the hands of that bastard, brute of a king.
Vladimir Khilkov. Many things had been heard about such a man. Kaari understood him to be violent and ruthless, and his actions upon the battlefield spoke just as much. Countless Nysharalian's had been slain, her tribe nearly completely extinguished. Whereas Mirkov had numbers, Nysharal had wit and tactic beneath their brute mentality, but it hadn't been enough to win the fight that Vladimir had brought to their lands. It never would have been, truthfully, but that wouldn't stop her people from trying and fighting back. They were a prideful and strong little nation, and in the eyes of her people, this lost battle was only the beginning of a rebellion. The chances of her tribe submitting to Mirkovian rule was slim to none.
When the guards came for her, Kaari held out her hands, allowing them to bind her before she was jerked out of her holding place. She was dirty, bloody, tired, and hungry, but her spirit was far from broken. She knew she was heading for death, but she faced it with her head held high, her mind at peace and prepared to die for her kingdom and her sins. Her fight, as far as she was concerned, was over, and in death her spirit would live on and rally her people. The story of Kaari Virell would live on, the tales of her cunning and ruthless acts passed down to those who dared to follow in her treacherous footsteps, and she was okay with that. Her death, so others could live and thrive. A heavy hand pressed onto her shoulder after the blindfold had been placed, her knees hitting the ground, her forehead gently kissing the wood of the execution block. The talk of religion and death preparation brought a twisted grin to her face. She had long been prepared for death. Kaari had no swell notions about herself, and she knew straight to where her damned soul was headed. "I am ready for death, pain or no," she stated lowly, her shoulders relaxed wherein most would be trembling and pleading for life. She would not give him that satisfaction. All he would receive from her was a little flinch and a noise of confusion when she found herself alive after she had felt the breeze of an axe's swing kissing her neck.
His breath on her skin made her shudder, but it was his words that caused her heart to drop straight into her stomach. “Let's talk Virell...” Well, fuck. When the axe that had broken its promise of death left, the guards tugged her up and took the blind fold from her face, her crystalline eyes squinting at the new brightness of life. Once inside of his tent, she lowered to her knees again, sitting with her legs folded to the side of her. Her heart pounded rapidly in her chest from her brush with death, but the only tell-tale sign that she had been affected was the small tremble in her hands, which were knotted together in her lap. She had been ready for death, but she had not been prepared for life in the instance that death not come. Now she sat, looking up at the man who'd just swung an axe at her head. She should have been lunging at him, making an effort to return the favor of death's touch, but she didn't. She was intrigued. And appalled. And many things she couldn't quite explain, but she was alive. She had a second chance, and she would damn well make use of it now.
Listening to his proposal, Kaari sat with an incredulous look upon her pretty, deceptive face. “You are quite the sadist, aren't you? I am sure you'd quite enjoy dragging out my death, just as I would yours,” she spat, her words venomous. Of course the King of all things cold and frozen would threaten her into allegiance for her life, or more so, for the promise of a less than quick and seamless death. She was not afraid of being reprimanded for the way that she spoke to him. Vlad was not her king. Her king was Alejandro Romani of the Nysharal tribe, and he always would be, whether she submitted to Vladimir or not. Unfortunately, she wasn't being given much of a choice.
Kaari rose to her feet, dusting invisible dirt from her pants as she stared at the man who was making her choose between life or death. “I'll do as you ask of me, but do not be mistaken, sir. I do not like you. I despise you with nearly every ounce of my body, but for the sake of my people possibly having a better chance with life, I'll advise you,” she told him, her voice surprisingly firm. Nothing she did would ever be for that man, but if working for and with him meant that they might have peace with her people, then she would submit herself to new lows and do just that. “I hope you are ready. This road to peace will not be quick.” »»———- -———«« |
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Lightbringer
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«———» ♣ «———» Vlad admired the way the spy held herself with dignity instead of falling apart into tears, begging. She at least stood by her stance and was straight with him. Although her shaking was not noticeable unless she used her hands, he had seen enough to be satisfied that being spared the axe for the moment had unsettled her. No matter how put together she was about dying, she had to be nervous about how successful her execution would be. There was a reason why they had professional executioners. He let her be frustrated at him for the time being. It helped him learn more about her and how he was perceived. "I can handle you working against me for the time being, but you will be punished for lies. I do not tolerate pretenders. I am happy that you do not hate me so much that you can't try to work with me. We will get there eventually." He didn't know why he was trying to defend himself to her. It wouldn't matter what he said. "Kings have to figure out what will do the most good for the most people. Unfortunately, we have to make terrible decisions where there is no right answer." He wasn't sure what to do with her now. He needed to mark her as an advisor, but at the same time she needed guards at all times. He should probably get her to swear some kind of oath, and he needed to find a place for her to stay. His camp was too porous. If she had her own tent, she might be rescued by her tribe. But no one else would want her in their tent, and he needed privacy from his angry opponent. “Um…feed her,” he instructed. They would take her over to the campfire where the food was being cooked and prepared. In the meantime, it was time to deal with potential Nysharalian rulers and leaders of continued rebellion. «———» ♣ «———» Somehow Vladimir managed to wake up before the sun began to lighten the horizon. His tent was very dim, but his eyes opened from sleep, and he lay there remembering what he wanted to do, and orienting himself to the day, time, and location of where he had fallen asleep. It was time for his army to begin moving deeper towards Nysharal. He doubted her tribe would be willing to cease their attack for a parlay just because he had one of their spies as his prisoner. Perhaps eventually he would get her to open up her secrets one way or another. He got out of his cot quickly. Even at home with his comfortable bed, he did not lay about. He did not have to change his clothes as he generally changed into a new clean outfit before he went to bed. He preferred sleeping in something clean and waking up in something rumpled. He left his tent barking orders at generals to pass down to subordinates to get the army camp ready to move out. He approached the tent he had thrown up last night just for Kaari. Her four soldiers stood guard around the outside, and they bowed their heads as their king approached, straightened, then saluted. She had been allowed to sleep without restraints last night as she had guards, but he decided it was time to increase security. “I want iron manacles around her ankles. We’ll provide her a horse to ride sidesaddle, so she won’t slow down the army.” He instructed her guards. He did not want her to be able to run away, and iron manacles would be the hardest to get rid of in a hurry. Even if they managed to steal the key, iron manacles were not known for their easy locks. Keys often got jammed. Some might see her riding a horse as an honor unbefitting a prisoner who should be perfectly capable of walking unburdened because of how slowly an army traveled. He also imagined that if she wore the manacles around her ankles, her long dress would cover them and make it seem like she could be trusted. Actually, why did he want her to seem trusted? He did not speak in a quiet voice, and there was no reason that Kaari could not hear him through the thin canvas walls of the tent whether she had been asleep or awake. Next, he beckoned a couple of servants Hannah Cooper and Simon Fletcher. “I want you to make sure these guards are provided for within reason,” he turned a warning glare on the guards to not anger the servants with undue work. “I do not want them to have to leave this woman to send messages or to get something. I do not want more than one of them to ever leave her, and I do not want more than two of them distracted at a time. If she escapes, and I find that my guidelines were disregarded, there will be harsh punishments. Please bring breakfast. I will be eating it with Mistress Kaari.” Let them wonder at the connotation of that word. “Madame Cooper, please get Mistress Kaari ready for the day in time for breakfast. Master Fletcher, please find a spare pack horse for Mistress Kaari to ride later today after you have gotten my breakfast.” It took an army a long time to pack up to leave, so he knew he would not have to rush. While he had been giving instructions to the servants, fresh soldiers had come to replace the ones who had been on night guard duty. They bolted down their breakfast before stretching out in their tents nearby for a few quick minutes of shut eye before they had to help get ready to leave. He watched Hannah enter the tent. “Mistress Kaari, we are getting ready to move. I am to get you up and ready quickly, and then you will be fed breakfast. We need to be packing up this tent if you want it to be brought with us.” Apparently, Hannah didn’t feel the need to warn Kaari that she would be eating with him, the powerful brutal king who was determined to conquer her lands. The tent was an older one that was not favored to be used by the soldiers. It had a whole in the roof, which would make a rainy night very unpleasant. He sat down on a log that had been placed near the fire. He was given a bowl to hold his oatmeal, sausage, and bread with butter. She was given oatmeal and bread without butter. It was simple fare meant to sustain and be eaten quickly. “How did you sleep, Mistress Kaari? I am sure you heard me this morning. It is exciting for you, but we have found you a pack horse to ride.” Obviously, it would either be so well trained that it would only follow a soldier’s horse, or it would be tied to a soldier’s mount. “Got along with your guards? Have you been treated reasonably?” He assumed she would understand that he meant that she had simply been guarded and no one had gone out of their way to torment her. “What do you think of traveling? What is your preferred method?” He was curious if she would answer any of his questions or if she would stubbornly give him the cold shoulder. He was not offended whatever she did. He could be patient. He had a nice long journey to break her. «———» ♣ «———» |
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Darkseeker
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»»———- -———«« That day had been the closest that Kaari had ever gotten to death. She had felt the wind off the blade, the sharp shing of the metal as it split the executioning block. She'd had daggers held to her throat, arrows piercing her body, and even suffered wounds that she should have died from, but none of them had ever shook her like that. She may not have made a great show of that unsettled demeanor, but it was there. Her anger and animosity towards the King kept her feisty demeanor on the forefront, her mind already swirling up ideas of escape. She didn't care who she had to kill if it meant her freedom, and she was sure he knew that. It only meant that she'd have to be smarter and craftier than that dark and brutal king. »»———- -———«« As night left and morning came, Kaari had long been awake. She rarely slept at night, her best work often done in the darkest hours. Her demons chased her more often then, keeping her from sleep when she did try. She had only catnapped a couple of hours on and off, her over active mind still plotting her escape and the king's demise. It would be hard to get out with four guards keeping her. She'd need to silently kill two if she were to have any chance at fleeing during the night, and that would not be the easiest task. If the king caught her, he'd surely have her killed for the attempt and she couldn't risk that either. No, she needed to bide her time and wait until he trusted her even a smidge better. In her time awake, Kaari was not idle. She was quiet, yes, but her hands worked fervently, weaving the dried grass into thick, strong braids as she stared out the hole in the ceiling of her tent. She had enjoyed getting to watch the night sky as she worked. Had it rained she'd have been displeased, but she had slept in much worse conditions before. They had taken her weapons, obviously, and while she could be just as dangerous without, the things she could do with a cord of strong grass were much more desirable in her own eyes. She had heard Vlad the moment he came out of his tent, spitting orders and rousing the camp. She sighed, stashing away her handy work. It wasn't long enough to use yet and whether or not it would be strong enough was still a question, but she had plenty of time to remedy it. The king's voice cut through the air outside of her tent, and she listened attentively to what he had to say. Manacles. Of course. She'd have a time freeing herself of those, especially on horse back. He surely knew what, which was why he was even doing so in the first place. She wouldn't complain too much. It was futile to try and escape in the middle of the day, and at least she'd be atop a horse rather than walking. She wasn't really sure why he'd give her such luxury, since armies tended to move slowly, but who was she to pass up such an opportunity? She allowed her thoughts to drift off as he began addressing servants and the guards with things other than her, merely waiting until she herself would inevitably be addressed.
She began to hear more movement outside of her tent, and soon Madame Cooper came in to ready her for the morning. “Very well then. Thank you,” she nodded to the woman, allowing her to assist her in dressing and freshening up for the day. She was put into a simple long dress, the deep crimson color suiting her fair skin and hair. Her hair was quickly detangled and she finally was given a much more put together appearance than the one they'd found her in. She had been a bit disheveled, dressed and ready for a fight when she was taken. Madame Cooper had her looking like a decent young lady. When Kaari realized she would be eating with the King, her lip curled in disgust, but she said nothing to object. You're getting a warm meal, she reminded herself, deciding not to test her luck and be denied by refusing to break her fast with him. She sat on a log opposite the king, her gaze harsh as she took her meal, taking a bite of the bland bread as she listened to his multitude of questions. Many of them seemed senseless to answer, and either the King was trying to gauge her mood or irritate her. She wasn't sure which. Swallowing the bite she had just taken, Kaari sighed and rose her gaze to meet his face. Her expression was bored, her tone uninterested. “Scarcely. I'm a creature of the night, so I'm afraid I do not find much sleep during the dark hours,” she told him, her tone as bland as her bread. “I'm more confused than excited about the horse, but I'll not complain either,” she added with a shrug, going quiet as she ate a couple of bites of oatmeal. Why did he even care? The man truly made no sense. “If you mean to ask if I was ignored all night, then your answer is yes,” she told him almost dismissively. The guards hadn't even uttered a word towards her and their shadows had been mostly unwavering outside of her tent. She had been completely unbothered. When asked about traveling, she might've snorted out a dry laugh, but she refrained herself. “Alone. My preferred travel method is alone, whether on horseback or foot, moving at my own pace to wherever I please,” she seethed, resisting the urge to add one last part... With the severed head of a King in my hand. »»———- -———«« |
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Lightbringer
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«———» ♣ «———» Vladimir was not perturbed by her harsh gaze, and he ate his food as quickly as he would have by himself. He made note that she preferred to be awake at night. If he ever trusted her enough to give her more freedom, he would have security tightened at night. Or perhaps that was just something he needed to start now. It was harder to remain alert at night. It wouldn’t hurt to have more accountability. “That will be hard for you then, but unless you are good at sleeping while traveling your sleep schedule will have to change.” He shrugged, “Be confused about the horse then.” She seemed antagonistic enough that if he did not match her, that would confuse her more. This response would give her something to steam over. He wasn’t going to give her a step by step explanation of everything he did. The logic made sense to him. Although, he really did need someone to double check that all of his ideas were good. He didn’t trust any one person to do that. He did have a few advisors, but they did not understand how far loyalty to him could get them. If they did their best and their advice caused a mistake, but they were loyal, they would not face retribution. “You don’t think it unusual that you weren’t harassed? You have caused a lot of their comrade’s in arms deaths. They will not find that easy to forgive, you know?” It showed that his soldiers were disciplined and loyal to him. He didn’t want anything happening to her until he figured out what to do with her. He hoped that yesterday gave her a good enough of a scare to keep her sedate for a while. He was surprised how willing she was to rant at him about her preferred method of travel. What would happen if he deliberately tried to be infuriating? “Yes, well…we don’t always get what we want. It’s how we know we’re alive. We always have something to work towards,” he responded. He gave her a wink as if to say I know what you wanted your last sentence to be. He knew it was something to do with harm to himself. That’s what it would be for him if their roles were reversed. The clumsy manipulations he tried made underneath his skin itch, but he hoped that if he kept her unsettled, unable to predict what he was going to do next, he would learn more about her. While he could be clever, he was not normally the one in charge of delivering subtle machinations. “Ah look, there is Master Fletcher now with your horse.” He gestured for the man to approach. “This one is trained to carry riders and not just packs, correct? We wouldn’t want to unsettle a good packhorse.” “Yes sir,” Master Fletcher affirmed. “Get the night guard up and running. They need to be packed. It is time for us to start traveling again.” He shouted loudly which got the surrounding soldiers moving. He also ordered that his horse be brought. Master Fletcher helped Kaari mount the horse, while Madame Cooper cleaned the dishes quickly and stowed them away. One of the soldiers mounted their own horse so that the packhorse would have someone to follow, while the rest of them walked near Kaari’s horse. Vladimir headed up and down the lines of his soldiers to encourage them to greater productivity and efficiency in the eye line of their leader. When the army finally was officially on the move, he returned to Kaari’s contingent. The officers in his army were more than capable of keeping the army traveling. Madame Cooper walked alongside Kaari’s horse, and she tried to have a conversation with the prisoner. “May I call you Kaari. I am Hannah. Madame Cooper makes me sound older and more respected than I am. Have you traveled with an army before? The men can be so rough with their language. You have to be careful not to travel to more unsavory parts of the camp. I don’t like having to wait for so many people to get ready, but I suppose it’s such a big group it doesn’t matter too much when you get ready. There is almost always someone slower than you.” The guards gave her a side eye, surprised to hear her speak so much to the prisoner, but they didn’t have a reason to stop her. “What was your life like before the war? What did you do? Where did you live?” Vladimir wondered if she would speak more freely if he left, but he was curious what she would have to say or if she would answer Madame Cooper’s questions. He could question the servant later, so he went to find an officer to speak to. Simon patted the horse’s flank. “They don’t normally name the packhorses. They don’t have the longest life spans, and it doesn’t really matter. The men who handle the horse know them well, and everyone else just has to trust them. I like to call this horse Song. He starts to neigh, nicker, or whinny when he is out of sight of the other horses. He likes to have an equine companion.” There was the rhythmic clank of metal on metal and the squeak of leather rubbing. Simon noticed that one of the noises was coming from her ankles. How are the manacles? Are they causing sores?” «———» ♣ «———» |
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Spring Month: 1 
Night 
Clear Moon: 
