Myamar

[[Signups & Discussion]]​

Myamar, a kingdom of peace and stern law. Six gods rule the land and keep order over the people: Losbus, the God of Life; Utius, the Goddess of Harvest; Ucdes, the Goddess of Virtue; Dezdos, God of Strength; Udur, God of Death; and Oghena, Goddess of Knowledge. Together they unite the realms and aid their peoples when called upon. The citizens of Myamar live in the path of the gods, bringing together four cities: Hammaslahti to the north, Eastborne, the capital in the east; Porthaethwy to the south, and Holmfirth to the west. The great Aerilon River runs through the kingdom and merges it to Homnier in the east and Wendjir in the south. Each of the cities houses one of the major elements of the kingdom: Eastborne with the King's castle and military training, Porthaethwy with the mages at the enchantry, Holmfirth where the largest of the foundries may be found, and Hammaslahti where the temple of the gods resides. Those with magick in them are brought to the priests' temple for training. After two years, they choose which path to follow, that of the priests, or that of the magi. Orphans are assessed by the Priests of Myamar. Those which have magick go to the temple, those without are sent to be laborers: farmhands or apprentices. Slaves make up the servants of the Highbornes.

The gods presence flows throughout the lands, visible in all things nature and man - made. Sanlow Forest, which stretches between three kingdoms, is one such example. Children of the gods reside within the miles of woodlands. It is a dark, mysterious place where unusual magick reigns supreme. Few who enter it ever return. Strange creatures make their way into the kingdoms where men reign supreme, reaking havoc in their wake. Chosen warriors go on grand quests to protect the kingdom before war is necessary. It has been thousands of years since the forests covered the land. Man has pushed the Wilds back to a reasonably safe distance. Few leave the forest anymore, but occasionally a rogue ogre or two make their way onto the lands, destroying whatever is within reach.​

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➵ Each city is ruled by a separate family. If you choose to have a Highborne character, you are free to pick the familial name and the sigil. If there isn't one selected for a certain city, I will just assign NPC / default names.
➵ The Gods are NPCs. I don't believe there will be a point in time where they actually have a role, other than being prayed to. In the event that there is, I will have control of them.
➵ You are allowed as many characters as you want, so long as you can handle it. If you make too many and suddenly there are ones being left in the wind, I'll ask that you turn them into an NPC until you can handle it or get rid of them completely.
➵ Your character can be of any social standing / age / class within reason. I ask that you don't have an entire family of Highbornes or Magi and so on. Bear in mind that if you take a role like the King, you probably won't be doing much with him. He would just be there in the background with some occasional interactions.
➵ There is a chance your character might die. This RP isn't like my others where death is inevitable or a high possibility, but every battle risks death. I will say something if death is likely.
➵ No godmodding / power - playing.
➵ There's a possibility of counters, but they will not have a major role in the RP. An example of when they would be used is if a group went exploring a cave and they heard a loud roar. Obviously you would have so much time before your character had to haul ass before getting mauled by a bear or something. I will announce a counter if one is going to happen.
➵ You may start anywhere that isn't the forest.
➵ Aquarine Lake is roughly the size of a city. It would take days to travel around it.
➵ The World Map has a legend giving you a rough estimate of how long it would take to travel from city to city on horseback. If characters are traveling without horses it will take longer.
➵ Not everyone gets a horse. Be reasonable. If you have a character of lower class, then the odds of them owning a horse are slim to none.
➵ Yes, it requires money to pay for things. If users can't be appropriate with money, I'll have to start setting amounts for each member and + / - accordingly. I really don't want to do that, so don't make me.
➵ They can earn more money through quests.
➵ Depending on where you live / what you do, you may not need to worry about money. I.e. the temples are funded by the kingdom and the priests do not need to spend much.
➵ There should be a diversity among characters. If there are too many of a certain type, I'll put restrictions and may ask members to change a character type.
➵ I'm not a stickler about language / violence / sexual content, as most members know; the only things is that it has to be kept tasteful. This time frame has a different way of speaking. There is less restriction on 'bad words' and yes there is a brothel in each city. However, there shouldn't just be pointless sex scenes. If you have a character that works in one, then that's a different situation. Though, it should be spoilered and anything with extreme language / violence / sexual content should have a Trigger Warning for those that do no wish to read it.
➵ I don't want to see ridiculous 4th Wall Breaking. It's just annoying to everyone that's reading.
➵ You do not have to write like it's the 1600's. I understand that it can be quite difficult for many people.
➵ Required to post at least twice a week.
➵ I don't want to have just a ton of excerpts on all the different types of characters. Depending on what ones are chosen, I will include information on them. If you have questions beforehand, ask me. I just don't want to make up a billion different profiles only to have 3 different character types chosen.
➵ 3 strikes you're out. I will not tell you every time you get one. You should just be aware. When you're at 3 I will send you a message and you'll be asked to leave the RP.
➵ Any questions feel free to ask.
➵ I reserve the right to add or subtract from this list as I see fit. A notice will be given if so.​

 

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It was an odd feeling that crept across the body of the nameless man. His entire body felt light and near weightless as his slumber continued. There were far too many question that needed to be answered, but try as he might, the answers would just not show. They were simple questions, questions even a mere town fool could answer, but it was all a pure blank in his mind. Who was he? where was he? why did he feel such fatigue? He needed to awaken from the slumber that had taken over him and figure this out, his curiosity had grown far too much and his mind could not bear the slumber any more.

Light had begun to enter his eyes as the eyelids that covered them slowly began to open up. As his eyes begun to open it was then that he realized that he had been floating on water. Fully opened his eyes widened as his body immediately began to sink, causing him to feverishly flail about in an attempt at air. Kicking and moving his arms he managed to raise up to the surface of the water. At first glance he could not see land, but upon further notice he noticed some up ahead. Relying on the little he knew, he immediately began to swim towards the land and flopped down on his back the moment he reached land.

"Damn water...what the hell kind of awakening is that?" he said as he panted and coughed out any water inside him. Raising to his feet his head began to spin and his hand rose to rub his temples. "unconscious again...where...am I?" he muttered to himself as began to walk. "Valentine...that was my name...at least I think so..." Valentine muttered before stopping midway and glanced down upon his arm, starring upon the gauntlet covered arm. Investigating the strange metal covering his arm, he rose it up and stared at it confused "huuuuuuuuuuh?! I may not remember much...but I'm sure that I should have sunk with this..." Valentine said before shugging his shoulders with a sigh "eh...guess thats more to add to the list of anguish building amnesia drama in the life of Valentine...name still pending..." Valentine said scratching the back of his head with another sigh TB usually has his characters do.

As he continued to walk he noticed some weight on his back and casually glanced over his shoulder to see a hilt of a sword that laid sheathed on his back "well hello there" Valentine said happily drawing out the blade before staring at it. "Quite the well crafted blade...which doesn't mean much in the eyes of of an amnesiac..." Valentine said closing his eyes with a groan "man am I going to me referencing my lack of memory with each sentence I make? its already annoying and for somebody that cant remember much this is something...." Valentine said and then proceeded to facepalm "goddamn it..even when I complain about talking about my lack of memory I still bring it up...and why am I talking to myself?" Valentine said with a groan.

 

Was real hate get outta port-edge it was.

But-- when be necessary and the kupechestva with the smells they had of the things they was selling around by the edge of gavan was where the rag-tatter spider hair devushka decided to place herself by the very edge of the stall's massive encampment of sights and smells. Mor et zhantamah! This stalls of the kupechestvi weren't going to put up mere simple a fight! Our devushka er swore a real mighty to erself and looked up at there the sky. Wasn't it always. Smells of kupechestvi would draw any gata to this here place and here'd expect this to happen without remorse. Kupechestvi always like this. Devushka heard the calls of mew from up in the above and used this er cue to seize and conduct business with kupechestva.

Local kupechestva say verkop pan verkop pan voice heading to the mews and devushka needed to hide erself in the bustle of the kupechestvi disguised among the scents of pan and viande and real right gavan smells. Gavan smells too familiar to devushka but this mission er was need for grab verkopd pan without verkop. Need stealth. Quick and fastly at call of mews.

Devushka in rags sneaked there up erself.

Verkop pan verkop pan! Devushka need stay behind quick.
Kupechestva hold fastly eyes of his own. Mor et zhantamah, bad this was going to be. Quick needed!
Rag not seen! Rat moved like blitzer. Bang bang. Not a pan to be seen. Quick pied! Know devushka her name for reason here. Kupechestva not know what would be happen!
Er devushka stood on boit backwards kupechestva among metalthings. Scent strongening it was but ain't not nothin' can't be dealt by devushka er experience held.

Mor et zhantamah.
Getting outta port-edge real hate.

Spoiler: Highborne Myamari translation

She hated leaving portside.

Hiding perilously behind a barrel of rancid meat sitting at the very edge of the bazaar, the ragged, rat-haired girl glanced longingly at the merchants at the other side of the cobblestone road. The scents of grilled fish and fresh seaweed bread danced along the rims of her nostrils alongside the taste of airborne river salt and rotten chevon nearby, and she could not help but dizzy herself from the overwhelming sensation of hunger that burst in spiked plates within the depths of her stomach. Stab. Stab. A sharp squeal was the cry of a demon living deep inside her, possessing her, holding her hands by her fingertips to grab just a single loaf of bread from those idiot merchants and satiate the growing void that had come to fill the space of her soul.

She curled her dirt-stained arms around her knees and bare feet, resting her head upon her elbows, minimizing herself by the side of the barrel so that she may not be seen by the bazaar passers-by with their gaudy-looking red furs and orange thickskins and pink-fluff hats that would probably have cost fifty seaweed breads. She could have fed her brother and the others for months with fifty seaweed breads!

Sometimes, the passers-by would notice her shadows lurking by the barrel sitting among many of its kind within this decrepit Porthaethwy alleyway and pay about as much attention to her as a stray cat. But this was fine, it was. When she was nothing more than a dirty ill-fed animal, then they shouldn't expect much from her, should they? It would be to their discretion at the end.

The girl dug around in the single hastily-stitched "pocket" lopsided by the end of her dress and took out some dusty-looking beans and dried auroch meat.
Caw. Caw.
A few seagulls had taken notice of the rancid chevon barrel she was hiding behind.
Ah ... she looked up at the sky. Porthaethwy never had rainy days, not as long as she could remember.

The girl stood and dusted away ash from her knees, callously walking towards the stalls of the bazaar while trying her best to avoid the looks of the rich nobles wandering the pier.
Bah. Why was she here?
She had a good reason, but--
The girl clenched the goods in her hand tightly, protecting them with an iron grip from the wanderers around.
It was not very hard, however.
They left quite a big berth around the girl in tattered rags. Just another street rat. They should all jump into the river and drown and Porthaethwy would lose its reputation as the Dirt-Stained Riverside of Myamar.
Right?


"Seaweed bread! Fresh! Get it right here!"
The girl walked over to the wooden stall, rising onto her toes to look over the desk. The merchant, an elderly-looking man, widened his eyes and stared back at her with disbelief.
Just keep the facade.
Keep the facade.
"What ..."
She rummaged to bring out the little pieces of things again.
The man immediately frowned.
"Oi! Speak. D-don't tell me you have any--"
"таке бред?"
"S-speak Myamari you useless seagull-dropping rat mulch! I don't do business with c-criminals."
The girl gulped.
"S--syell. Sell."
She placed the dusty beans and pieces of dried meat on the desk. The merchant was agape in disgust.
"B-buy-- b-- ... t-trade. Trade bread. P--please."

What was this nonsense?
This was hopeless.
The merchant briefly looked back at the things behind the desk, hidden beneath a white canopy. He stroked the edge of his moustache with a bony finger.
Without turning, he replied. "Get outta here."
The girl tapped the desk to get his attention. Come on--
Her voice accidentally cracked.
That wasn't part of the plan!
"Please!! Hunger!!"
"Leave!" He turned around in fury.
"I can't just give these loaves away for free! You think you're the only one hungry? I've b-been struggling to sell these damn things f-for months ever since the nobles put that rotten tax on all the shipping!" He swiped a wrinkly paw at the desk, sweeping the beans and meat to the ground. The girl immediately lurched down below to try and collect them. "By the gods, even-- even the mages--" He whispered in his raspy voice to himself, eyes darting around fretfully but not looking at anything in particular. "I-it's all politics ... not that an illiterate street rat like you'd understand. Get out of here!"

He sighed.
"You should know as well as I, urchin. T--the gods only favour those who have the luck of being born in the right place. The rest of us are forsaken, a--and always will be."

The girl refused to move. She stood back up, collecting the dust-laden items on the ground, and stared defiantly back at the old merchant.
"Go! Get outta here, cockroach!"
A few had turned to look at him, wondering of the commotion.
This was bad ... she had to be quick and unnoticed. Quietly, she slipped away from under the merchant's steely gaze, and melted herself into the crowd of faceless flocking through the bazaar.

As the sun drew closer to the riverside horizon, she let the time pass by sitting between two empty stalls, keeping herself ready for her mission. The void grew to encompass her every feeling, and any movement was wrought with a seeping, inky pain in the depths of her chest. The demonic cries within her would not stop. They blinded her eyes and deafened her ears, and though she held back tears throughout the hours, they would have simply dried up in the confines of her muddied face anyway. The gulls did not cease their constant horizon-calls.

She stood again, and slowly threaded her way through a patchwork of stalls. The main bazaar streets had become even busier with its flows of colourful people, so staying among the stalls would be for the best at the moment.
In a stroke of luck, the bread-selling merchant had to keep attendance at the front. She climbed up the edge of the stall's wooden pole and hung herself from the white canopy, facing away from the gaggle of bread-buyers nearby.
Hold your breath.
She held back a sneeze and dropped behind the tented loaves. Wriggling her fingers of dust, she lifted up one end of the cloth and came face-to-face with the familiar head-sized loaves. The scent of seaweed and sea-salt melted upon her tongue and she tapped an ashen finger at a loaf's crisp half-burnt edge. With a swipe of her hands and a stroke of the seconds, she grabbed a few loaves of bread and carefully moved back.

Crash!
-- Bumping into something.
She froze, a startled cat.

"What was that?!"
Footsteps cracked the gravel of the earth.
Stupid merchants like him deserved to die.
She-- she had to do something ...
But she couldn't just drop the bread here!!

She swore to herself.
She really did hate leaving portside.

 

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"Four days in... four days in and I was sincerely hoping that this journey would have been at least somewhat entertaining for me."

"Ay, calm yourself Rymr. You have plenty of ways to keep yourself entertained."
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Rymr may have been a mage, but he was in training. They could only afford to have so many horses and only about three or four horses could be bought. There were twelve people in this caravan, the first three went to the elder men, and the fourth of course when to his master. The rest were people his age, carrying what couldn't be placed on horses.

This group was not just mages, but also other simple travelers that wished to tag along. Rymr had attempted small talk with a couple but in the end he just felt bored. Bored and tired. If he could fall back and sleep at that second, he would. He felt he should be one of the people on the horses, but instead he was stuck holding the bags.

As they marched on, one of the members walking saw how annoyed Rymr seemed, and ran up to him,
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"Oy, Tavare. You seem down, would you like me to play you a song?"​

"A song? What do you-"

"Well, I am a bard. So it will help pass the time by."​

Rymr let out a chuckle at the comment and nodded towards him, giving it an okay. The bard smiled and pulled up a psaltery and his bow and he placed it up to his chin and started to play it. He hummed for a moment before he started to sing.

Away she goes oh lady a Porthaethwy
Away, maght’um yem, vor chto ya mog priyekhat
Hast she gone a free I long to go
Port near and far I no longer fear.

I's no man of thy lowly life
Away, maght’um yem, vor chto ya mog priyekhat
j'ose to whisper ta Orghena moy yeraz
A hey I go, a hey I go.
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"I'd love to say I like it, but I have almost no idea what you are singing."

"It's an immigrant song. It's beautiful really."​

"Eh..."

"Would you like another song then?"​

"Yes that would be a lot better..."

William Khalier, how big you wish
ye castle be, you need that room
I need that room to live and thrive

I ain see you set life a finger
I'be working to mak it a' pretty an nice
all ya du is jus' kaedamiz

O' Willy oh Will ya make me laugh
Ya ask to feraday an a half
I notgon please, you can kiss my a-
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"Hey, ya bard!!!"
"Ay?"
"I don't wanna hear no trash 'bout me homeland. The Khaliers are fantastic and I-"
"Oh go cry in a hole a whine. It's a song, not my statement."
"Don't sing no songs you don't have heart behind!"
"Don't get offended by a classic."
"Scriú tú, soith*."
"YOU SON OF A-"
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The man who had been screaming at the bard was an Eastborne baker, who was simply going to visit his family in Porthaethwy. The fighting continued until Rymr opened his mouth.
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"Would you two cut it out? You are going to hate the rest of this route if you two keep bickering. You two annoy me, greatly."

The two looked at each other and shook hands to end it at that, and the bard continued playing as they continued on their way to Porthaethwy.

Spoiler: Notes

Direct Translation of 1st Song,
Lady of Porthaethwy

Away she goes, the lady of Porthaethwy
Away, I wish that I could go.
She has the freedom I wish I had
To the place far away I don't have to fear

I don't deserve this lowerclass life
Away, I wish that I could go
I dare to whisper to Oghena my dreams
I want to go, I want to go

The song was written by an immigrant to Porthaethwy. The lady is a boat that sails off to distant places. The immigrant had moved to Porthaethwy when younger and his parents died of illness. He wished to go to other lands, but had no way to because of his status.

It became popular amongst the lower class and is a popular tune among them, but when it had reached the ears of the upperclass, they had assumed it was a love song and it had become mistranslated into such. There are stories based on the "Lady of Porthaethwy", but not based on the actual translation.


Song 2: I Dare Bother You, Willy

Known to the people as William Khalier, one of the first lords of Eastborne. The song was written as a protest song against building the majestic Eastborne castle. It kept growing bigger and lower class and servants claimed that they were kicked out of their homes and they were destroyed due to the castle's construction. However, this is a fact proven to have been a false claim.

Kaedamiz is the worse possible way of saying, " enjoying the pain of those less fortunate, and continuing to pleasure themselves with it for as long as there is no one above them. it's a way of saying that they believe themselves higher than God. Kaemiz is the noun, calling someone a Kaemiz means they participate in Kaedamiz.

Scriú tú, soith means "Screw you, bitch."

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[Ok no more pretending~]


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"Cmon slave. Our day isn't even halfway done yet. The faster we pass through, the more time you get to rest." The voice led to a large, wealthy looking man followed by two personal guards, one of them pulling a chain that was attached to a girl's collar. The girl simply nodded at her master's words and followed along a touch slower than the three in front of her which can be noticed by her bare feet laced with days worth of cuts, bruises, and dirt.

Supposedly, Sasha Gray was not under the title of a slave as legally, the papers her master signed mentioned her to be under his household as a servant. That was true for the first few days, him gently treating her. Though it was a week in that she realized what kind of man he was. All his previous "servants" either ran away or committed a crime on purpose just to be jailed away from him. He hand enough money to make people turn heads or just to act out on rather unnecessary terms. She simply toughened up and rather follow along the last few months though her back and legs still never got used to the many lashes she received every hour of the day be it public or private.

Her mind was interrupted every so by the chain leash being constantly pulled by the guard in front of her. She sighed under her breath, trying to keep up. After a long day of shopping through the markets (and him trying to find another slave which failed), they headed for their next destination to the brothel. The many citizens made way for him, some even giving Sasha looks of pity. Some people were generous enough to sneak pieces of bread or fruit to her as she passed along just about every day.

She winced, every now and then feeling small pieces of stone poking painfully at the soles of her feet before they abruptly stopped. "Alright stop. This heat isn't getting any better. We should just wait until the worst of the day passes by before we go on." The group made their way towards a cluster of trees and sat down to relax, exception of Sasha which she sat out in the direct sun, feeling trickles of her sweat run down her face and back. While the group was napping away, she turned from them and nibbled on the bread and fruit the same shopowners gave her when they passed by. It was going to be along day.

 

"Another day, another successful thief." Those words belong the the thief Damion who was currently playfully tossing around the recent bag of coins he'd pick pocketed off some unsuspecting fool. Despite his attire, he was quite skilled at keep a low profile and preventing those he's stolen from from seeing him. Though there were the rare cases where he did get spotted and chase. In the event that happened, he always had some kind of trick that he could use to his advantage.

Despite his choice for an occupation, Damion was quite crafty. In fact he had made a few traps out of materials he's found on the streets. The things he made were nothing elaborate, just flash bombs and other things that could distract any pursuers long enough for him to made a clean get away and if that didn't work, he still had the throwing knives and dagger that he "borrowed" in case things got a little to hairy.

A small sigh escaped his lips as he caught the bag of money one last time before pocketing it away. It was time for a change in scenery and since he didn't have a set place in mind, he would just walk around til he found something or someone of interest. Of course if he found a person of interest, what he did next would depend on if they looked like they had any loot on them. Still he was going to have to be careful to not get recognized by anyone as he was on his way.

 

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The steady hum of hymnals being sang throughout the temple filled Roslind with a calming strength. She always enjoyed strolling through the sanctuary to the sound of fellow priests and priestesses. It was a routine she had developed years ago. Her morning would not begin without the invigorating stroll through the House of Death -- that's what she called it, at least. The priests prayed to all of the gods, asking each one of them for their blessings, but as a priestess, there was only one that could truly protect them -- Death, himself.

A small smile parted her lips as she ran the tips of her fingers across the alter. There would be a service in a few hours to honor the gods and ask for the daily blessings. The kingdom had been fairing quite nicely over the last five years and many believed it was all due to the endless prayers that were sent to the gods from the Hammaslahti Temple. Someone was always praying. It is thanks to those prayers and the blessings granted on them from the Brother Gods that they are able to work the miracles they do. Losbus and Udur grant them their powers to heal and create peace within the kingdom.

An array of colorful light kissed Roslind's skin and bathed her snow white cloak in warmth. She turned in the sanctuary to peer up at the stained glass portraits of the heroes that founded her kingdom. Her imagination would often times run wild as the works of art reflected in her crystal blue eyes. What would it have been like to see the land before the kingdom was built? To go on adventures? She could only ever imagine, having been in the care of the Priests of Myamar for over a decade. As a magic bearing child, she received little say in her future. Roslind only ever knew of the life of a priestess, and likely wouldn't ever know much else.

⁅Priestess Roslind, is that you?⁆

She turned at the sound of the voice to see a short figure standing a few feet away. It was Janis, the head priest's assistant. The man stood nearly a foot and a half shorter than her, with a mousey face and sharp noise. His eyes were a clear emerald and she always held him in the highest of regards. ⁅Janis. Whatever can I do for you?⁆

He held out an envelope, stamped on the back with the seal of the temple. Roslind took it carefully, examining the parchment. ⁅It is to be delivered to Eastborne. Wilds have been spotted approaching the city and we will need reinforcements to clear them out.⁆ he told her in that that whistley voice of his.

Roslind nodded in understanding. ⁅I am to deliver it, then.⁆ It was not a question. She had made this trip before. Hammaslahti was in the north and the most prone to Wilds' attacks. While they had soldiers, their city was not dedicated to the training of arms but of mind. ⁅I shall fetch Kadir and be on my way immediately.⁆ She turned to leave, but Janis stepped in front of her.

⁅Kadir is not to come with you this time. You are to make this trip alone.⁆ Something in his voice kept her from speaking out and the questions she wished to ask were to remain silent. Roslind felt something stir within her, but nodded once in understanding. ⁅May the gods be with you.⁆ he said in his usual way when departing.

⁅And with you,⁆ she agreed.

Roslind left the sanctuary hastily, stepping out into the morning light of the city. Hammaslahti was always so lively, especially in the market. She would need to fetch a horse from the stable before leaving, or the journey would take far too many days. The envelope was slipped within her cloak and she pulled the white hood over her head. The question as to why she must make this trip alone gnawed at her as she slipped through the city streets. It had her so distracted that she almost bumped into a man staring at the temple. ⁅Pardon,⁆ she excused herself, before continuing on her way.

​

 

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Roslind entered the stables, breathing in the ever - wonderful scent of hay and horses. She pulled the hood of her cloak down and ran her gaze over the plaques on the stalls. The Priests of Myamar had an entire row of stalls dedicated to horses for them. Under normal circumstances, they would ride in a coach and not even bother with stepping foot into the stables, but Roslind was different from the rest of them. She had her own horse and her own stall.

A chestnut - colored thoroughbred neighed at her as she approached. It was a familiar neigh, one she had heard many times over the last five years. Maldar had been her personal horse since she turned fourteen. He was a reminder of a life she might have lived, had she not been taken into the care of the Priests. She opened the stall door with a smile on her soft lips. Maldar lifted head high, blowing hot air on her cheeks from his large, black nostrils. Roslind reached up to stroke his thick neck and he brushed his muzzle against her ear. ⁅I'm sorry boy, I brought you no treats today. We will get some on our way out of the city. You and I have a long journey ahead of us.⁆

The stable boy came running past and she waved him down to fetch Maldar's saddle. He nodded and rushed off to the tack room, juggling arms full of riding supplies upon his return. Roslind needed no help prepping her horse and pulled herself up onto his back before exiting the stall. The young boy opened the gate for her and almost didn't notice the gold coin she had tossed to him until it was too late. Barely managing to catch it before it hit the ground, he shut the gate behind Roslind and her horse as she made a clicking sound with her tongue to get him going.

Maldar took off quickly and she had to force him to slow down, as they were still within city limits. She pulled the hood of her cloak back over her head and took off in the direction of the gates. A large black horse caught her peripherals, but before she could turn to look at the beautiful creature, it was out of sight and the guards watching the gate were opening it for her passage.

​

 

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Hair dripping wet, arms drooping, and back slumped. A groan was let out and the clanking of armour continued as he walked on forward. The man that gave himself the name Valentine could only do what he could only think of doing and that was to walk. Oh floating in a late with magic floating armour sounded quite fun, he needed to get moving and find somewhere at least adequate for him to enjoy. It was annoying to walk around in such wet clothing and the cape he wore was extra annoying. Sure the cape held no purpose for him, but he held a liking for it so he kept it.

Fatigue was great, but happiness soon appeared as Valentine's eyes widened in amazement. "I...actually found somewhere! walking aimlessly worked!" Valentine said closing his eyes with a big grin as he marched into the city. With his unknown destination reached he walked along the crowded streets in awe at the strange city. There was so much to do here, but there was one thing he needed to do that was very important. A loud grumble that had been bothering him numerous times roared once more and Valentine held his stomach. "Huuuuuuuuungryyyyyyyyyyy" Valentine groaned before perking up upon noticing a stand of apples "ooooooo food!" Valentine said happily.

Making his way happily towards the stand, Valentine grab a fresh and plump apple and raised it up, looking at it as the sun shone down upon it. "beautiful" Valentine said almost about to cry at its beauty, but didn't cause he was no sissy. Opening his mouth and ready to chomp, he lowered his apple holding hand and directed it towards his mouth, but then...

"HEY! ARE YOU GOING TO PAY FOR THAT?!"

The sudden gruff voice immediately made Valentine drop the apple, making the apple bounce off his nose and back into the pile "Owowowow..pay?!" Valentine said rubbing his nose as he glanced over a the owner of the stand.

"Yes, pay! with money!"

"Mo...ney?" Valentine said feeling his body for any form of money, to his vain. "heheh...I..errr...have none..." Valentine said to the owner scratching the back of his head with a chuckle, but the owner wasn't amused in the slightest. After a slew of swears that would be censored, Valentine found himself running away from a man that had anger problems.

Time passed and the fatigue and hunger grew. They clouded the mind of Valentine and aimlessly, he just walked on "huuuuuuuuuuungryyyyyyyyy" Valentine said before falling face first on the ground in the middle of the street.

"Oi get out of the way!"

"my bad..." Valentine said in response to a random pedestrian, his voice muffled by the ground. Without getting up, he rolled his body to the side until it hit the side of a building. On his back he rested with dull eyes staring at the sky, shaded by the shadow of the building.

And so the amnesiac man rested beside a building in the streets of Holmfirth.

 

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Roslind heard the echoing of horse hooves pounding on the dirt road before she did the voice that accompanied it. She glanced over her shoulder to see a man on a vaguely familiar black steed coming up behind her. Taking a deep breath, her grip on the reigns tightened and Maldar slowed to a steady walk. A young man with short brown hair rode alongside her and she had the strangest feeling as if she had seen him before. Then again, working in the temple meant she saw many faces every day and could not remember the names to them all. He had likely just been another passerby that came for worship.

⁅It's dangerous to ride alone, priestess. Why is it that you've no escort with you?⁆ he asked her.

That left an unsettling feeling with Roslind as she watched him with careful eyes. Being a priestess didn't mean she was helpless. On the contrary, her magic skills were quite sharp and she had been taught by some of the soldiers that frequented her services at the temple, how to properly defend herself with a weapon. Her sharp blue eyes caught sight of the handle of the battle axe strapped to his horse and she steered Maldar away from him, distancing herself. ⁅I see not how that is any of your business, sir. I am more than capable of traveling alone and I haven't far to go.⁆ she lied. It would take several days to reach Eastborne, but that was no business of his.

For appearing as if he had been traveling quite a bit himself, something about him just didn't sit right with Roslind. His riding posture and the luxuriousness that was his saddle and bags screamed highborne, but a highborne would never be traveling alone. ⁅If you believe I am to have an escort, should you not have one as well? Where are the men sworn to protect those that are highborne?⁆ quipped Roslind.

She kicked at Maldar's sides and clicked her tongue to the roof of her mouth. Her thoroughbred took off into a canter and she didn't look back to see if the man was following. Roslind hoped he would take the hint and leave her alone. The last thing she wanted was to fight someone, but she would never allow anyone to take advantage of her in any means. Highbornes had a tendency to do whatever they so pleased simply because they had money and could. It disgusted her more than the brothels did. While she did not agree with the idea of men and women whoring themselves out for money; they were using the gifts given to them by the gods and that was something she could acknowledge. Roslind was doing the same thing with her magic in the priesthood.

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This guy didn't seem to want to quit. Roslind leaned in closer to her horse and prepared for the fight that would likely ensue. After all, she was being followed on a mission she alone had been tasked to carry out. No one was going to get in the way of that. She didn't look back. Roslind could feel him getting closer and a faint glowing thread encircled her fingers.

⁅I'm not highborne.⁆ was the first thing he said once close enough to be heard. She found it hard to believe, but if it was the truth, then that simply made him a thief. A thief was by no means better. She needed to get out of this situation as quickly as possible. He followed up with, ⁅I am usually the one doing the escorting.⁆

Roslind glanced over at him warily, seeing that he was once again beside her. He tapped his hand against the handle of his axe. ⁅Look, I'm not after your gold.⁆ His horse flicked his golden mane almost in response to his words.

If he's not a highborne and not a thief, but is usually the one escorting, then he must work for the brothels. That is the only other logical solution. I'm sure they could charge quite a bit if they said they had a girl that was a former priestess. Men are pigs that way, always willing to pay extra for something special.

⁅I just do not like the idea of a church-girl getting robbed and killed.⁆ He sighed. ⁅My name is Marcus.⁆

Roslind wrinkled her nose and looked back in the direction her horse was headed. She rolled her eyes and gave Maldar a kick of her heels to go even faster. ⁅How very kind of you Marcus, but I am not some mere 'church - girl,' as you put it. I suggest you find some other poor defenseless maiden to take advantage of, because you will have none of me.⁆

Maldar's tail swatted the back of Roslind's leg and a trail of dust was kicked up behind them as he pushed forward. She needed to put distance between them and get off the main road for awhile. If she could hide out for a bit, hopefully Marcus would get tired of chasing her and find some other prey. Roslind by no means felt good about the idea of sending him to someone else, but she had no time to deal with this man. Eastborne was days away and the Wilds were on the move to Hammaslahti once more.

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It was a great feeling to get out of the barracks and stretch out his legs. That place felt more like a prison than anything else. If that place had fewer furnishings, it might as well be one. Surrounded by stone walls, a few meager excuses for beds in each room, and a place to hang up their issued out gear, that's it. The only thing missing from the set were some iron bars on the windows. Staying in a boring room like that with nothing else to do would drive anyone stir crazy.

Walking through the clamoring marketplace, each step accented by the clanking of metal, he pondered what he could purchase. He had recently gotten his pay and wanted to get something to help break the bleakness of his room. A nice tapestry might help deal with the monotony of staring at gray bricks. Looking around, he couldn't really find anything like that. He did stumble across a few food and fruit stands, but those wouldn't last long enough to serve as a distraction from the boredom those rooms inspired. A sigh and a few more stands later, he wondered if he would ever find something.

"Yes, pay! With money!" A voice cut through the din of people around him. He turned to look and saw the owner of an apple stand dealing with a sopping wet man who seemed to be without money. As he continued to listen to the stand owner shout swears at the poor man, he couldn't help but feel bad for him. After the apple stand owner finished dealing with him, he wondered if he should do something about it. He did have money to buy more than enough fruit to fill up on, but that would set him back on getting a wall decoration.

"I'm too nice for my own good," he finally sighed. The knight walked over to the apple stand and, after a bit of calming down, asked, "Excuse me, how much for a bag of those apples?"

After paying, he grabbed the bag of apples and went off in search of the guy he was dealing with earlier. It wasn't too hard to find him, since he was resting next to a building nearby. At least, he hoped he was resting. With the clank of his armor, he stooped down and held out the bag of apples for him. "Here, I saw you earlier getting chewed out by the Apple Stand guy, and I thought you might like these." He scratched his head, hoping he wasn't taunting a dead man with a bag of food that could've saved him. "Umm, hello? You're still living, right?"

 

Serene was pretty happy it was the daytime. Not that it was much better for her in the daytime but the customers tended to file in more at night. Mainly because they had a day job to maintain, or perhaps go and do something else during the day. It was still a job that did not seem to have an end for her, even if she had a "day off" today.

Her day off didn't mean she didn't have to work tonight though.

Serene was dressed up as decently as she could get herself and decided to take a back route to the markets. She didn't want to get caught on the main road since, due to the way she was dressed, she knew she would be targeted by one or two stragglers who couldn't afford to pay for their time like anyone else. If she had a bit more decent clothes it would have helped out, but that was one of her situations.

Sometimes she would buy herself something nice, and her owners would either sell them right back, or tear them up so specific parts were showing. It was clearly a status sort of thing, they didn't want their whores to leave, they wanted them to feel like they weren't safe in the outside world. Or at least that was how it worked where she lived.

She got to the market and went to go and buy herself a little bit of food with what money they gave her to get food. It wasn't exactly a bad sum of money but it was only enough to get food unless you did something else to make money. And if she got caught again she didn't want to know how it played out.

She had gotten herself a couple of loaves of bread, she found herself a spot in an alley where she sunk down and broke a small piece off for herself and she started eating.​

 

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Dull eyes continued to stare upwards at the blue sky and his body remained unmoving aside from his stomach that was rumbling like a mighty beast that needed to be slain. Resting but remaining sprawled on the dirty ground, the mysterious man did not even stir the moment he heard the clanking noise of armour come closer and closer to him.

A voice spoke out to him and Valentine did not reply or even react. It was for a short moment, but in his sight was that of a bag of apples that was held out to him, like some form of offering. Nothing of Valentine moved, but from his slightly opened mouth a surge of drool ran down from his mouth as his dull eyes continued to stare.

Like a zombie rising from the ground, Valentine's arm immediately shot upward with great speed towards the bag and grabbed an apple. As his arm lowers the blue haired man quickly sat up and opened his mouth wide. With a mighty chomp Valentine bit into the apple and began chewing. "I-its so...delicious...your the greatest stranger to walk this land" Valentine grumbled trying his best to speak with his mouth closed, his eyes closed so that he could not shed the wondrous tears he was feeling.

Swallowing what he had in his mouth, Valentine sighed a deep sigh before sitting against the wall of the building and stared up at the stranger "thanks for the food, I really owe you one!" Valentine said before taking another bite of his apple.