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Post by Adam Rohan on May 8, 2013 18:43:34 GMT -5
The endless doldrums of noble society were at once torn asunder by the hurried footsteps of an armored cadre, each of the four clad in blackened mail ranging from light chained links to mighty steel plates. They bore with them neither crest nor emblem, and so their allegiances were yet unclear. However, the startled upper class knew at once that they were no loyal soldiers of their sovereign Empire. A collective gasp spread through the crowd and was followed immediately by an awe-stricken, hushed silence as it dawned on the proud citizens that these lawless visitors had fled from the lower echelons of Imperial society. What few nobles were present at the border between the worlds of luxury and destitution fled the scene as if on cue, searching for the loyal guards who would defend against these invaders. However, on the outskirts of the city, where mighty structures of stone gave way to taverns and rural settlements, there were few to be found.
Yet, it soon became clear that these men had been pursued. On their heels charged a man of sapphire hair and deep, blue eyes, a jewel encrusted sword sheathed at his hip. His cloak billowed in his wake, and he looked upon their hasty retreat with a disapproving glare. "That's far enough." Adam, the runaway from House Rohan, issued his warning in a voice most thunderous. He took from his innermost pocket a tattered parchment - a warrant, placing a bounty on the heads of these murderous bandits. "I won't receive a bonus for taking you scoundrels in alive, but I see no reason for blood to be spilled so pointlessly. Surrender and be brought in unharmed." In truth, Adam had no idea that he had traveled so deep into the Imperial City's grounds. So focused on his dogged pursuit was the young swordsman that he scarcely noticed the lavish towers and grand walls emerging on the horizon. He was, indeed, in danger of being identified, yet he remained unawares.
In any case, the bloodthirsty group was not in a cooperating mood. There were, in all, a pair of archers, a heavily armed brute of a man holding a battleaxe stained red, and a novice sorcerer wielding a rather plain staff. As the group realized that the hunter was gaining ground, they halted their advance and moved to fight. Bowstrings were pulled back without hesitation, and, thus, four keen arrowheads were flung in Adam's direction. However, moving with unrivaled grace, the soldier of fortune ducked low to the ground and pulled from its scabbard the ancestral blade Durendal. With four fluid strokes, the arrows were snapped and sent harmlessly to the earth. As he began his frontal charge, his blue cloak was cast off, revealing the glimmering, emerald chainmail shirt he wore underneath. Though Adam moved to strike the man with the ax, himself in the midst of a cleaving, downward blow, he sidestepped the brutish weapon's crushing blade and, instead, targeted the archers.
While the hulking Goliath worked to regain his balance, Adam moved nimbly from the path of oncoming arrows, striking down some with the edge of his blade and evading whatever remained. When at last he closed the distance, one of the archers was struck down with a diagonal swing. "Fireball!" However, before Adam could set his sights on the remaining bowman, he was forced to duck and roll underneath a slew of arcane embers conjured by the group's novice caster of spells. Though he moved swiftly to evade the enchanted flames, a gash was cut in his right arm by the timely shot of the second archer. "Demon Fang!" Bellowed the undeterred swordsman, and, from the tip of his weapon, there emerged a roaring mass of his own spiritual essence. It traveled deliberately across the ground, and Adam wasted no time in chasing after his own attack. Thus, the sorcerer was struck first by the striking Arte and, immediately thereafter, was run through by Durendal's merciless thrust.
Yet another arrowhead was caught by Adam's coat of mail, yet he felt its tip poking into his chest. As he rushed the second archer, he wrapped his fingers about its shaft and pulled the projectile from his own body. Unfortunately, he was interrupted in his reckless charge by the heavy swing of an ax, which he nimbly ducked underneath at the last possible second. Indeed, the runaway heir to House Rohan felt a few strands of hair shaved off by the weapon. Thus he got to work with deflecting his enemy's blows, all the while dancing around the arrows shot by the eagle eyed archer. In a show of bitter irony, Adam caught one of the arrows barehanded and shoved it into a jointed gap in the giant's armor. He let out an agonized cry, though it was cut short as he was beheaded by Adam's deadly blade. His lifeless body fell to its knees, and Adam used it as a stepping stone to render himself airborne. In midair, he wildly contorted himself to avoid the last desperate shots of the lone archer and, with a downward slash, sliced cleanly through his light armor and bit mercilessly into his flesh.
Adam swung his sword elegantly at his side, cleaning it of the blood that yet stained its silvery blade. It was returned to its sheath, the wandering nobleman let out a sigh of relief, and, finally, he grinned a remarkably genuine grin for one who had just cut down four ruthless bandits. "There. You folks can travel a bit safer now." He said to the uncharacteristically shocked crowd. Of course, from their abjectly horrified faces, Adam pieced together that this was not a group accustomed to such acts of violence. Thus, he realized where, exactly, he was and thanked his lucky stars that he had not yet been identified. "Er...right, well, I'll take care of the mess, everyone, don't worry." He said in a tone at once sheepish and apologetic, scratching the back of his head before taking note of his wounds. "But, uh, maybe I should patch myself up first..."
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Post by gwendolyn belmonte on May 10, 2013 1:10:14 GMT -5
| [atrb=align,right][atrb=style,width:320,btable][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style,border-bottom: 1px solid #707070;] | Inside the castle walls there were always secrets. Some were innocent, but most were devious, sinful or vile. The vile ones tended to be the very building blocks of Gwendolyn’s home. Each stone was inscribed with what every person had done. The mistresses the king laid and the nobles’ unseen murders. Although, inside the royal house there was nothing truly unseen. Eyes were always watching so that when the king needed information it was easily obtained through various…particular subjects. Men surrounded by whispers who knew not only the castles secrets, but the empires secrets. So when betrayal was brewing the king would be able to quickly snuff it out. It was nice to have such information in ones grasp. Fortunately for Gwen, even the men of whispers have things to hide. One could possibly be a pregnant slave girl. The closest man to her father, and the primary one who obtained access to much gossip had made the mistake of knocking up one of his chamber maids. How terrible. If his newlywed wife knew it’s a wonder what chaos could happen. You cannot simply kill off pregnant mistresses without people knowing either. So, the princess snuck the poor lass out of the city and in return she had a useful source of intelligence that provided her with the facts she needed. Sadly, facts can be limited when coming from one man. Rumor has it that there is a lovely woman with a rather…grotesque mind who has been managing slave trade around the empire. Her name was Louela, and was currently seen fraternizing with a mercenary who looked to be from the Rohan noble house. After some investigating the princess found that there was a member of the family who had left, one of the two sons. So she could pretty much assume this mercenary was Adam of house Rohan. Why he was with the slave trader she had not a clue, but to gain information about her she needed to find him. Her plan was to confront him in private, make him squeal whatever information he knew, and maybe lock him up depending on what his intentions were with Louela. Gwen couldn’t jump to conclusions too soon. Perhaps this mercenary was just a booty call, who knows!? She just needed to track him down. The best place to start was outside the castle walls. So the princess chose her darkest cloak, and made her way through the heart of the city. When the princess travelled it was usually in incognito to avoid the guards dragging her back. When the guards try to drag her back things usually got messy. Fists fly, and the next thing you know she’s locked in her room for assaulting an authority figure. Best thing to do was just not attract attention, which was relatively simple when the city folk usually kept to themselves. But, for some reason something was attracting the attention of the people today. Gwen followed a few gathering citizens to what seemed to be a multiple man fight. Keeping to the shadows, the lass slipped into a dark alley that led to the area where the combat was taking place. There she watched intently as a dark haired man slashed his way through several armed opponents. His skill was no doubt impressive. Yet, too impressive for a commoner. His armor looked very similar to a nobles, and his features seemed to match those of the very man she was pursuing. Damn this was just too easy. The fight ended with the mercenary as the victor, and the crowd in complete shock. The princess smirked, pulling the hood of her cloak farther over her head before emerging from her place amongst the shadows. “Thank you young warrior. Please let me tend to your wounds.” Her voice was smooth and sweet as she drifted over to the man. Her face was partially seen under the hood, but drew no attention from the spectators. “Follow me, this way to my home.” She swept her arm gracefully to the alley, and began making her way back into the shadows. “I’d hurry before the guards arrive.” |
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Post by Adam Rohan on May 10, 2013 2:45:29 GMT -5
"Er, excuse me?" Asked the rogue heir, his head tilted slightly at this bizarre yet thoroughly gracious offer. Though he had, not minutes before, slain his marks without mercy or pause, Adam's face was the very picture of innocence. His blade, sharp and bitter to the touch, was not fully cleaned of their freshly spilled blood, yet, from behind the dirt and nicks of battle, there stared a pair of eyes brimming with grateful vigor. Alert even in the calm following his one-man crusade, the nobleman was acutely aware - frustratingly so - of the viscous, crimson trickle running the length of his right arm. It dripped slowly from his clenched fist, mixing unceremoniously with the loose gravel below. Even still, though he welcomed her services, Adam looked on, for a moment, in relative confusion, for he'd seldom received such prompt aid from so kindly a Healer. Often, they were nervous, and rightfully so, around one of his ferocity.
However, this woman spoke with honeyed words, and they were quick to win over the wandering sellsword. After all, so long as he drank of no unmarked tonics and kept an eye on her wandering hands, Adam would surely have nothing to fear. That said, there were matters for which he felt a certain degree of responsibility. Looking about the street, through the heavy, almost palpable tension and scurrying crowds, the elder son of House Rohan could see the bodies of his targets. They lay limp, soaked in pools of their own tainted blood; truly, they were as unsightly in death as they had been in life. For that matter, he doubted they would leave behind an especially pleasant odor. "Well, I'm very grateful, but I don't know if I can just leave their bodies like this." He forced an awkward, poorly staged cough into his right hand, then sheepishly scratched his head with his left. Deep blue locks flowed in the breeze as he pulled his own coat once more about his lean, athletic shoulders.
“Follow me, this way to my home.” Nonetheless, this cloaked maiden urged him to follow, moving with all due grace and elegance into the shadows from whence she emerged. The prying eyes of the citizens, it seemed, would not reach so far as the back alleys, and such was the conceit of her gambit. “I’d hurry before the guards arrive.” Thus, Adam understood at last. After all, he was in a land not known for its tolerance of violent outbursts. Warrant or no, he would be placed under scrutiny, and, whether this woman knew it or not, that was not somewhere the Heir of Rohan wished to be. "Oh, right! I guess I should'a thought of that." He admitted and flashed a pearly white grin, unmarred by the toils of battle. So, it seemed he owed her his gratitude on two counts.
With that in mind, Adam was quick to give chase after this faceless woman, pursuing her into the darkness toward her home. She moved like a spirit, seeming to glide across the ground as though intimately familiar with its most subtle nuances. As a preemptive show of thanks - and through adherence to his noble etiquette, Adam swiftly and nimbly kissed her hand, raising it with his left so as not to stain it with his blood. "Thank you for your services, m'lady." He nodded to her, but, as he did so, he caught the makings of a rather mischievous smirk underneath her concealing hood. Adam, though now rather more on his guard, nonetheless offered her the benefit of the doubt. He was quick to trust, after all, for paranoia begot only cynicism and paranoia. However, more peculiar was the outline of her face; it seemed vaguely familiar, though he could not place her identity. Of course, Adam was not about to deny her right to privacy...
"I'll have to repay this kindness somehow. My name is Adam, by the way - er, the surname isn't so important. And you are...?"
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Post by gwendolyn belmonte on May 10, 2013 13:32:50 GMT -5
| [atrb=align,right][atrb=style,width:320,btable][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style,border-bottom: 1px solid #707070;] | It pleased her to see the crowd finally begin to disperse. In the upper district it was very uncommon for blood to be spilled. At least it was uncommon for anyone to witness any blood being spilled. No one wanted the guards meddling in their business, asking question about who killed who. So most clever nobles kept their killing quiet. The bloodied bodies lying in the dirt would soon attract the Royal guards, and anyone who was near the bodies was easy prey for them. The unfortunate soul who hung around would be arrested, interrogated, and probably be suspected as the killer. No one wanted to deal with that shit, hence why it did not take long for the spectators to split. For the most part she kept quiet, ignoring most of the noble’s words. It wasn’t out of disrespect; she was just merely protecting her own identity. If anyone found out she had snuck out again then her chance to interrogate this sell sword for herself would be ruined. “Please make haste. The guards are not entirely idiotic.” She whispered to him, taking a moment to eye his wounds before pressing on. Once they entered the dark sanctuary of the alley Gwen made another sharp turn that lead to a dead end shadowed by the eaves of the buildings. They would be safe here for the moment. It would buy her enough time to speak to him until the guards stumbled upon them. If they stumbled upon them. Her mind was lost in contemplation until she felt her hand being taken, and kissed. Naturally she smirked, finding it rather amusing that he acted so gentlemanly when he was supposed to be this ruthless mercenary. Really, he was doing a terrible job at hiding his title, yet he was doing a fairly decent job at being charming. She listened, remained silent for a moment, and then moved a step closer. “ Rohan is your surname. I know…” She spoke softly, and reached her free hand to remove her hood. Under the fabric laid a young maiden with crystal blue eyes, and long golden locks that tumbled to the slip of her back. There was no need to hide behind her cloak anymore now that she had him cornered. Not that she planned on attacking him… Her soft lips slipped into an amused grin as she spoke, “Your very charming for an ordinary mercenary, you know? Had I actually been a healer I would have been flattered at a bloodied up sell sword kissing my hand. Would make a rather exciting fantasy for a modest girl, no?” Her tone took on its usual sarcastic tease. “I’m sure you recognize me, but for shits in giggles I will introduce myself.”The princess gracefully dipped in a low curtsey, before slipping on her trained, mask like smile. “My name is Gwendolyn of the royal house Belmonte. The eldest princess and the lovely lady that will be tending to your wounds as well as asking you some important questions relating to Miss Louela Lucelle. Now...” She paused, and gestured over to a wooden crate adjacent to one of the stone walls. “If you would please take a seat Lord Adam.” Gwen flashed another sweet smile, before removing her cloak. Underneath she wore dark trousers, you know the ones that make your ass look fantastic, and simple crimson, cotton blouse tucked into a black corset. It wasn’t at all comfortable, but it was pretty damn stylish. Anyway, the lass then started untying a velvet pouch filled with the various medical supplies she took along with her when she travelled. It was filled with the highest grade healing potions, and bandages from the castle healers. “Oh, and remove your chainmail and shirt as well.” Gwen spoke simply, not paying much mind to the man while she rummaged through her bag. |
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Post by Adam Rohan on May 11, 2013 3:26:16 GMT -5
Adam very nearly performed a double take on hearing his family's name spoken aloud by the crafty young maiden, and, though he at first said nothing, the mercenary's narrow pupils and clenched fists betrayed his own undue surprise. The secret to her deduction would not remain a mystery for long, however. The Heir of Rohan may well have been a scatterbrained young swordsman, but he was sharp as Durendal's own cutting edge when made to use his wits. Glancing quickly at his own person, Adam could scarcely hold back from letting out a self-loathing groan. He, of course, wore - nay, proudly showcased not one, but two of the noble House's prized heirlooms on open display. If the proud, glimmering sword sheathed at his right hip had not tipped her off, then surely it was the ring which clutched his very finger. Its enchanted ruby granted swiftness not often seen in the mortal realm, yet he still was not fast enough to escape the prying eyes of a mischievous noblewoman.
"How very shrewd of you, m'lady." He spoke in deliberate tones, now very much on his guard. Even so, there was not yet so much as a hint of malice to be found on his breath - merely caution and a certain apprehension that word of his identity may soon reach the wrong ears. A more pragmatic man may have held her tongue by force or intimidation, but such thoughts never even occurred to the elder Rohan boy. "Very well. So, what is it, exactly, that you -- " Yet Adam's voice trailed off as the errant "Healer" removed her hood. As it were, the young madam was correct on two counts; he did, indeed, know her well. Portraits hung in noble Houses across the Empire depicted her lovely visage, right down to the soft lips now curled into a most delighted grin before his very eyes. Personally, Adam could only say that he had seen her from afar, seated honorably beside their despicable King at the highest social functions in the land. There was a time when he found her a most beautiful sight and one of unearthly radiance.
"Your Highness?!"
Unfortunately for them both, that time had passed.
And it was here that Adam's chivalrous instincts, shaped by years of gentle conditioning at his tutors' hands, diverged from his conscious will. Of course, the rules of proper etiquette would dictate that he bow before the Imperial Princess. As she stepped closer to him, however, Adam took a graceful step back, as though the two were engaged in a synchronized dance of sorts. His fingers wrapped once more about the grip of Durendal, and yet, he did not move to draw it from its regal scabbard. Young Gwendolyn had, after all, not so much as hinted that she was armed. Though she was, in some part, responsible for his sovereign nation's sorry state -- though his heart boiled with resentment on behalf of those who had been cast into the streets, Adam simply could not bring himself to hostility unless first attacked. Even so, he would remain nimbly on his toes.
"Well, my dear Princess, if you knew me especially well, you'd know that I'm inclined neither to like nor to trust you and yours." He spoke with the faintest hint of venom on his lips. After all, unless his family had kept hidden his motives, it would surely have been common knowledge by now that he was no friend of the royal family. However, that begged several questions, chief among them being why she had gone out of her way to contact a known enemy of the crown. Adam was a hair's breadth away from joining an armed rebellion. Had she been sent to sway or tempt him back to the side of the Empire? Needless to say, his ears all but perked up at first mention of one Louella Lucelle. For all that he despised the Empire's ruling bloodline, Adam's heart was consumed with righteous fury against the cursed slave trader. From the darkest shadows of the Upper District, one could almost see his fiery spirit burning through his passionate, sapphire eyes as her name passed Gwendolyn's lips.
"Oh, but I'd be more than happy to tell you about Miss Lucelle." The embers in those spiritual windows seemed to grow brighter still, and yet Adam was not without his rational faculties. "Not sure I'm too keen on the idea of sitting down, though. Louella is no friend of mine, but you really aren't, either." He returned her sweet smile with one of his own, but his bore a hint of sarcasm and came bundled with a light chuckle. That said, however focused he may have been, it would be tough to deny that a twinge of bashfulness set upon his mind as the Princess shed her cloak to reveal a rather less modest attire. It hardly looked like the most comfortable outfit in the world, and, as per her reputation, Miss Gwendolyn was dressed to impress, so to speak. Had circumstances been [considerably] different, she may very well have succeeded.
For a moment, the honorable (perhaps to a fault) mercenary averted his gaze, but he soon remembered that he owed this woman no such courtesy. Still, he had his doubts about removing his chainmail until, as if on cue, a sharp pain was set upon his arm and chest. His wounds were far from grievous, but, if he wished to take no chances, they would best be tended to. "Very well..." And so, on this point, Adam relented. His own cloak was the first article to be shrugged from his sturdy shoulders. While he was certain that Gwendolyn was distracted - and, indeed, for one so close to a known enemy, she was awfully cavalier about directing her attention elsewhere - he cast off his emerald chainmail. His sleeveless, black shirt, itself hugging his most athletic physique, was the last to go. Adam observed his wounds, seeing that his chest had been superficially pierced thrice over during the scuffle. The archers, it seemed, were far more skilled and well-equipped than their arcane comrade. To that end, three trickles of blood had made their way down his exceptionally well-defined abdominal muscles.
"Alright. For your own sake, you'd better not try anything suspicious. My anger lies mainly with your elders, but I can't say you're on my good graces, yourself." He warned the young Princess. Of course, he still trusted her enough to let her tend his wounds, and so his words may have come off as a tad hollow. Still, his blade was at the ready, and, indeed, he would not hesitate to defend himself.
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Post by gwendolyn belmonte on May 11, 2013 8:48:37 GMT -5
| [atrb=align,right][atrb=style,width:320,btable][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style,border-bottom: 1px solid #707070;] | She watched the man confirm her suspicions, although his actions and articles of clothing had already convinced her that he was from a noble family. But, his body language truly gave it all away. The sigh, the narrowed eyes were all just evidence to support her claim. “It would only make sense for a shrew to be shrewd.” She countered, grinning at what felt to be a personal victory. To see the shock radiate from him, and then the usual hatred that accompanied it. She was accustomed to seeing the disgust in others eyes as they passed her. The common folk loathed her father, and therefore they also loathed all of his children. Unfortunately people have a habit of assuming things. They assume that the royal children have any say in their fathers ruling, or how the common folk are treated under his rule. Any order the royal heirs try to give it is only countered by their father’s orders to undo any good they try to bring to their people. They assume that that they will also be terrible rulers…they assume that they want to rule. All these assumptions, and yet not a single damn one of them were true. Gwen chuckled, admiring the way he alternated into an immediate defensive position. Now bows, no boot licking. Good. The last thing she wanted was him scrambling on the floor trying to pretend to love her family. Wise men keep their guard up in the presence of everyone simply because no one should ever be trusted immediately. Everyone has their own intentions, and not all of them are moral. Despite the mercenary’s movements, Gwen kept herself in a relaxed stance. Part of her knew he had no intentions to attack her, and the other part knew she could probably handle him well enough if he did. With his injuries he was vulnerable. All she needed to do was aim for his injured side, and it would soon wear him out. Years of lessons at the sword had taught her advanced strategizing to tire opponents, and then attack with swift ferocity. “Excellent. Your wise not to, my lord. You shouldn’t trust my parents because they are incapable buffoons who frankly don’t know what they hell they are doing, and you shouldn’t trust me because I have you cornered in a dark alley while you are weakened.” She stated plainly, crossing her arms under her ample chest. Really, she didn’t expect him to trust her nor did she expect him to give her answers without some sort of negotiating. Yet, once again his body betrayed him as she saw the burning hatred in his eyes at the mention of the blue haired woman’s name. Perhaps this was going to be much easier then she had expected. Her lips twisted into a lopsided grin at the obvious rage he had felt for the slave trader. “I see we share a common enemy.” She spoke, but dropped her grin at his next words. Eh, such a bitter shrew he was. Oh well, she couldn’t very well blame him for his discontent with the situation. “No, I suppose I’m not. But, I’m offering to heal your wounds in exchange for a couple answers. I will bring you no harm, but I can’t say the guards will not when they find you trying to limp your way out of the city.” Her tone kept its smooth sound, not faltering the least bit. It seemed to take him a moment or so before he agreed to her request, but she was very understanding when it came to his hesitation. She rustled into her bag more while he partially undressed. Only once did she manage a sly glance before shifting her gaze back to the contents of the velvet purse. “I just need to know what the slave traders plans are, her weaknesses, and where I can locate her. I don’t show mercy to slave owners, and she’s the first step to abolishing the entire slave trade.” The princess pulled out a clear vial filled with a light blue liquid, and held it up to peer at it. “I will destroy those who rule the black market. Every one of them…damn inhuman wretches.” A bitter curse slipped her lips followed by a weary sigh. The hate filled burning in her icy eyes slowly withered away. It was not smart to appear violent in front of wary guests. So the princess shrugged off her sour emotions, and moved gracefully towards the lord. It wasn’t long until the lady regained her old teasing nature for she took a minute to shamelessly stare at his muscled torso. Yes, she was checking him out. But, her intentions were as lustful as one might assume. In actuality she wanted to make this whole situation ten times more uncomfortable for him. Why? It was simply amusing. To see his disapproval was humorous, and if he did approve then it would be interesting. Gwen in a way was like a cat that toyed with mice just for the sheer joy in seeing how it would react. Like a science experiment, except she wasn’t gaining anything productive out of making the poor guy feel uncomfortable. She meant no harm, and it was only her nature. Gwen knelt beside him, and began pouting the contents of the vial onto a clean cotton swab. Then she dabbed the swab onto his open wounds gently. “I’ll try not to grope you.” She replied bluntly, flicking her crystal gaze up at him with a teasing grin. Then her gaze switched back to his wounds. The potion she was using was called Phoenix tears, and worked exceptionally with healing cuts or open wounds on the surface. It took a minute or two to take effect, and when it did it slowly mended the skin while producing a painful sting. “What can you tell me about that she-devil.” She asked, dabbing his next cut with the potion. |
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Post by Adam Rohan on May 12, 2013 0:17:27 GMT -5
"Rest assured, I can be quite tenacious when backed into a corner, my dear. Perhaps we'd both do well to watch our backs, hmm?" Warned Adam, though he decided not to pursue this line of thinking any further. After all, it was not his wish to do battle with Princess Gladiolus. However much he wished to deal a decisive blow to the royal family, this was not the way to do it; there was no honor or righteousness in such a deed. To incite her to anger would be nothing short of unethical. So, Adam kept his mouth shut, though, when Gwendolyn crossed her arms underneath her bosom, he felt inclined to do the same as though out of petty, immature revenge. For a moment, he folded his own lean, superbly cut arms across his own chest, but, for some reason, it failed to have quite the same effect. Further, he remembered that she was, indeed, tasked with mending the wounds cut across that very same chest, and so, sheepishly, Adam lowered his arms once more to his sides. Thus, her smirk would remain, for a time, unanswered.
"Yes, I must admit, I was not at all happy to find out how -- well, prominent the Empire's black market is." He said with renewed fervor as the regal vixen's lips dropped back into something of a scowl. It was odd - almost surreal to see the royal family's eldest daughter fueled by such wholly righteous determination. He had heard much of her promiscuity and had, in turn, assumed much of her own character. In his time with House Rohan and the Imperial military, he was at once intrigued and frustrated by the endless rumors surrounding her. Such unprofessional behavior, he felt, reflected poorly on his sovereign nation's royalty. Yet, a certain perverse curiosity was stirred in the depths of his own rebellious spirit, which, in his foolish youth, lay dormant beneath the tangled web of his own indoctrination. And here, before him, stood Princess Gwendolyn, every bit as shameless as Adam had been led to believe, doggedly pursuing the end of one of the Empire's most shameful endeavors.
He caught himself staring with a certain admiration for the young lady, for she was showing herself to be a far more righteous woman than he had first assumed. She was no proper woman of royalty, to be sure, but Adam could see that, in matters of genuine importance, her heart was true. "Limp? I've got fight to spare, Miss Gwendolyn. Princess or no, don't get too cocky." Of course, old habits die hard, and Adam had a deep-seated grudge to content with. "But, very well, I will answer your questions to the best of my abilities." Said Adam with a nod of affirmation. "In fact, I'll go one step further; so long as we share this common enemy, I will offer my services to aid in the slave trade's swift destruction." His voice was at once commanding and resolute though clearly driven by a clear sense of ethics. At this, Gwendolyn raised up a masterfully prepared healing potion and observed it with icy blue eyes, themselves betraying her own seething rage.
"My, my, would you look at the mouth on this one?" Adam quipped. "Quite unbecoming of such a lovely young lady, wouldn't you say?" A soft laughter escaped his smirking lips. However, when he heard her pained sigh, he couldn't help but sympathize. "But, you needn't hide your anger from me, Princess. I may not be a friend of the Imperial crown, but these wretched curs infuriate me on a much more personal level." He could still recall those malicious odors and poor, emaciated bodies all but stripped to the bone, lying helplessly in puddles of their own festering blood. It sickened him even then. "I'm sure neither of us will rest until -- er, P-Princess, what're you staring at?"
It was then that his bombastic decree of heroic intent was interrupted when the attentive swordsman caught sight of Gwendolyn unashamedly staring at his well-muscled physique. Adam quickly averted his gaze and looked awkwardly to the sky, crossing his arms behind his back. As per her devious intentions, Adam was sure, his cheeks turned slightly red at this unexpected attention. "W-Well, I certainly hope you're enjoying yourself, Your Highness." Fortunately, the Heir of Rohan was nothing if not quick to regain his composure, though he was thrown slightly off balance by her next remark, itself delivered with all the fanfare of a remark about the weather. "Try to control yourself, m'lady. I'll be keeping an eye on you." Adam returned her teasing grin, but it was clear that her attempts to unnerve him were working like a charm. Of course, Adam had not lead an entirely sheltered life; he'd dealt with the fairer sex, but this was his Princess. Allegedly, she was the enemy - one of those whom he had dedicated his life to fighting against.
"But, uh, right, Miss Lucelle." He spoke her name with pure malice. Had his voice been made manifest in the physical realm, it would surely have been the sharpest blade in all of Yumiris. As he spoke, Gwendolyn applied the Phoenix tears to his wounds, and, as per its venomous reputation, a stinging pain surged through Adam's chest as his flesh was mended before his very eyes. However, though a lesser man may have considered it quite severe, the hardened noble gave little more than a disgruntled wince when first he felt the concoction touch upon his bare skin. Pain was, of course, something that he'd long since learned to deal with most admirably. "As I'm sure you know, the cursed wench hired me to do a job for her -- I assure you, I would never have taken it had I been aware of its true nature." Adam said with a twinge of regret on his lips. "She has a mansion in this very city, though I'm not sure if it's her permanent residence. Its basement is a horrible dungeon where she does --...truly unspeakable things to her captives."
"I don't know of her specific plans, only that she has made bedfellows of a number of prominent figures. She's a key player in the affairs of the black market, and she's very good at what she does." Adam reported solemnly. "The woman is crafty. However, she's also proud and arrogant, and, if my experience with her is any indication, she isn't one to run thorough background checks on the mercenaries she hires. I guess she just tends to assume everyone else is as rotten as her." This, Adam admitted, was pure conjecture, but it seemed a rather safe bet. "I promise you, Princess, I never take a job that isn't just. No matter how much it pays, I will do nothing to harm an innocent soul. Louella had no idea of this. In addition," he harkened to their short lived and rather one-sided duel, "she is not so deadly on the field of battle. She's a competent fighter, mind you, but I briefly engaged her and got the upper hand without much trouble. Far from the most skilled warrior I've defeated. She's not afraid to fight dirty, but she has a penchant for hiding behind her guards."
"That's really all I have to report, I'm afraid. If you have any specific questions, I may be of some assistance." He said, then smiled almost playfully. "I'm surprised you lasted this long without groping me. Quite impressive, my Princess."
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Post by gwendolyn belmonte on May 15, 2013 0:06:39 GMT -5
| [atrb=align,right][atrb=style,width:320,btable][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style,border-bottom: 1px solid #707070;] | “Yes, and to be honest I wouldn’t be surprised if my father was behind it all.” She replied irritably, trying to think of some way to find who was behind the whole business. There must be someone pulling the strings. Power driven beings were not known to share power amongst other men. They were gluttonous, and being the ruler of the black market was sure to satisfy their hunger. Perhaps being king just wasn’t enough. It was almost depressing how the princess could easily view her parent as the evil overlord of the underground realm. Not that she had much of a relationship with him anyway. Growing up she hardly saw her father, and even then that was when she got in trouble. He would take the time to scold her about honor or obedience, but never bother to create a bond. Fortunately there was no hatred towards him because of that. She could have cared less if he wanted to be a decent parent, but the empire’s people crumbling under his rule….that was different. People were starving, children dying in the streets because the orphanages were too full to take them in. The poor had descended to homeless, the middle class became poor, and the wealthy piled on more debts until they eventually dropped into middle class. It was a domino effect. The question being how many more dominoes did the empire have left until it falls into complete ruin? Her mind had been dragged off into a troubled abyss, engulfing her usually playful mood. It was then that she felt the others eyes upon her, and had to suddenly revive her attention towards the task at hand. When her gaze managed to meet his she saw something that was quite rare. Was that admiration? Weird, no one really cared to look at her with anything but disapproval. Gwen cocked a curious brow, finding this lad to be quite different from the other lords she knew. Just a moment ago he had despised her, and now he was offering to help her. Usually Gwen would turn down his offer, but sadly her mother was starting to catch on to her disappearances. Recently, sneaking out of the castle was proving to be no easy task. The guards’ numbers increased around the castle grounds as well as their hounds. She was going to need Adams help to slip out and stay undetected. “Your help would be greatly appreciated. I will need your assistance escaping the castle, and remaining unseen until we defeat the slave trader.” Gwen replied, keeping her tone as serious as the topic at hand. Now all she needed to do was to determine if she could really trust him. “Forgive me good sir. Would you rather me prance about, and invite you for tea in the castle?” She asked sarcastically, pleased that he was proving to be a little playful. “Or, would you like me to giggle at your clever banter, and flutter around a silly fan? That is what you lords like isn’t it? An innocent, frilly little woman?” She met his smirk with one of her own, and eventually chuckled lightheartedly. It was nice to speak with an intelligent man for a change. Most were very stern, or deceivingly kind with useless flattery. Boot lickers they all were; Spineless imps, kissing up to whomever they could so that their bodies wouldn’t eventually be tossed aside in some gutter. “Thank you, and please call me Gwen. I grow weary of being called a princess when I’m not much of one. I don’t really want to be one.” Her mood was once more beginning to deflate until she noticed his reaction to her gawking gaze. Priceless. A hearty laugh escaped from her lips, finding his modest nature all too charming. Now she knew he could be trusted. Deceitful men tended to be quite egotistical. It would be a massive compliment for a woman of her social standing to examine any lord’s build. They could easily try to hide it, but she would still see it in their eyes. Lord Rohan, on the other hand, acted more like a nervous child, not quite knowing how to handle the situation. His discomfort was obvious as well as his honest, righteous personality. “Oh I am. You have a very impressive build, but that is nothing compared to the lovely blush on your cheeks. I didn’t know you were so bashful.” Gwen jested, keeping her crystal eyes focused on his smirking grin. It seemed like someone was warming up to her rather quickly. Not that she was trying to stroke her own ego. Gwen was strangely enjoying his company the more their conversation progressed. Eventually she moved her attention to the next wound which needed some cleaning. Her hand slipped to her cluster of supplies, picking up a canteen of water and a clean cloth. She splashed some of the cool liquid on the fabric until it turned reasonably damp. Next she wiped the wound gently, removing any blood that dripped down his torso. The bleeding had slowed slightly, but the princess still applied pressure to the cut so that it would stop altogether. In a minute or so she could continue with dabbing on the potion. Meanwhile Adam continued on with information on Lucelle. Gwendolyn listened silently, nodding occasionally to him. “I trust you are telling the truth, and I suppose we will have to catch her off guard if we want to avoid dealing with her thugs. It would be best to attack her during the night when her guard is lowered I suppose….thank you Adam. ” She thought aloud, contemplating how she was going to trap the blue haired woman. The difficulty of this mission depended on the dexterity of her foe. She didn’t know her, or how clever she actually was. Maybe if she could swiftly escape the castle then she could make it to the Lucelle’s residence before word got out that Gwen went missing….again. The princess checked his wound once more, finding the bleeding had completely stopped. Then her hands busied themselves with dabbing on the healing potion. She watched the skin slowly inch together until all traces of the wound vanished. Gwen pushed a stray golden lock out of her face as she listened to the lord’s next remark. Oh ho ho…someone was getting saucy. Her light blue eyes flicked up at him, meeting his gaze with somewhat of a challenging spark. “I wouldn’t Jinx it, boy. Although, it certainly sounds like you want to be groped.” She teased back, letting a sly smirk slip upon her lips. "Or perhaps you are just trying to flirt with me?" |
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Post by Adam Rohan on May 17, 2013 0:23:02 GMT -5
"I agree, of course." Adam said and nodded his head thoughtfully. His face settled into the taciturn gaze of a philosopher at his study or, perhaps, the hardened general shut into his tent, the young lord slowly scratched his chin. His left elbow was rested in his right hand, and his foot tapped slowly, rhythmically. The narrow alleyway brought with it a more focused breeze, and so his blue locks swayed just slightly while an echo spread throughout the shadowy corridor. "A covert project would certainly be best, although I'm not the sort of man who can pull off an assassination. Unfortunately, I do not know the full extent of her forces, only that they are respectably numerous and were trained to the standards of the Imperial military. I doubt that any one man could just barge in - and trust me, I tried." Indeed, there were few within the Empire's reach who could match Adam Rohan in the way of the sword and even fewer still who would care to take such a job. If he could not take her mansion by force, then they were better off seeking alternative means.
"However and whenever we strike, it must be fast and we must leave as quickly as we had arrived. Now that I think about it," he supposed, turning his attention back to Gwendolyn, "it might be in our best interest to hire someone. Unless, of course, you trust yourself to perform an assassination?" Asked the swordsman in earnest, with only the slightest hint of sarcasm lining his words. True enough, the spirited blonde had not hinted at such skills, but her guise and escape were managed with competence. If the rumors were true, of course, this must not have been the first time she had evaded the experienced hand of the royal guard. Adam heaved a deep sigh. In his eyes, Louella deserved a warrant for her unceremonious execution every bit as much as the scum he hunted - in many cases, more so, and yet he could not act without bringing the law upon him.
Of course, tragically and inevitably, whatever dignity Adam had managed to surround himself with was momentarily disrupted by the flirtatious musings of the Princess. The blush returned to his cheeks, and, this time, he was acutely aware of it. This time, though, he would maintain eye contact if it killed him (and this was not entirely outside the realm of possibility). Adam was not quite sure how she would respond and had spoken without thinking; he paid for this folly with his composure. "Me? Want to be groped? Don't be silly, Gwendolyn, I still have a lord's honor, even if I've temporarily forsaken the title." Fortunately, he was not so flustered as to lose his wits, for they were his only defense against the woman's silver tongue. "As for flirting, well, let's not forget that I am an enemy of the crown. I suspect that would be all kinds of trouble, my dear..." Even so, he smirked and took a step closer to the Princess. He did not dare to back down and, ever tenacious, wished to see her lose her cool as penance.
"Halt, citizen! We would like to ask you two a few questions, if you don't mind."
Unfortunately, the commanding voice of the guards' local captain interrupted their snark-laden exchange. Adam caught sight of his silvery plated mail in the corner of his eye and, acting purely on reflex, moved to place himself between Gwendolyn and the patrolling knights. There were five soldiers in total and only the nearest soldier had drawn his sword. Though his face was muddled by the thin veneer of darkness cast in the alleyway, Adam's features would have given away his identity had there been a more well-learned group standing before him. However, these men were not from the inner sanctum which served the higher nobility. They had likely heard his name whispered in battle, but not one could place him by appearance alone. Even so, to kill them would be a simple task - as well as an unjust one. Adam would not turn his weapon upon men who were guilty only of doing their jobs.
"Easy, guys." He feigned reluctance, raising his hands up as a show of good faith. "I'm probably the one you want to talk to, yeah? No need to bring her into this, she was just nice enough to patch me up." All the while, Adam made certain to keep the Princess's face thoroughly obscured without suspicious placement of his body. However, he did turn his head toward her to mutter a word of warning. "If you're gonna split, now's the time. Don't worry, I have the paperwork on me; those men were lawfully killed." Of course, it wasn't prison that worried Adam. He had hunted openly countless times -- just never in the Imperial City's Upper District. If he were turned in for questioning, he ran a very significant risk of being identified. Yet, there was nary a soul in the Empire that would not recognize the face of their Princess.
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