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Vedette Niveue-Uthral ([info]in_the_service) wrote in [info]caeleste,
@ 2010-12-12 16:35:00

Previous Entry  Add to memories!  Tell a Friend!  Next Entry
Entry tags:onainat sjorl, ulbarich, vedette uthral

vicissitude (onainat, ulbarich)
The Otter and Fowl wasn't very far from the castle, but far enough away for her liking. She went there because he suggested it and because she hoped at least if he knew where they were that he might come to find them. But the hope was small because of how Ithacles had reacted, and even more so because of how she had reacted herself. The main of the inn was a Tavern, like most inns in the capitol it had too warm insides. Wood and stone keeping the heat of fireplaces inside the walls as much as they could. It was cold enough at night that you could set out water and it would be ice in the morning. Solid ice. It was those nights that Vedette enjoyed the best. But here she had Onainat to think of to a warm inn with many great big fires was the best idea. Ulbarich was still silent as he accompanied them. She wondered why he was so silent. Why he was taking them, and what exactly had happened in her absence.

There were likely too many things to say and not enough time to say them.

Vedette and Onainat stashed their packs and everything they were carrying that wasn't needed on their person in the room given to them, but not before Vedette had gone to retrieve Red from the stables she'd left him in to move him to the stables of the Otter and Fowl. She would not leave the horse far behind. He'd been fed a plum and left again in the stable. Ulbarich waited patiently downstairs before all of them went right into the inn's main attraction. A long wooden bar was along the bar wall, behind it bottles of various glasses and sizes, wooden barrels filled with a great many different things. The smell hit them full in the face when they stood looking. Hot stews and even better meals awaited the tired and hungry people who came here.

One look around the room and Vedette had a count of how many of them were currently in uniform. No telling how many were without it. It didn't matter. If she was seen and she was questioned, or worse she thought if Ithacles thought she'd deserted him, then she was seen and questioned. But Ulbarich was there, silent as he'd been the entire time. The man had a way about him, a look about him, that made men quiet down. At least, he had when she'd known him. His men had been loyal and well treated. He was not stuffy like other captains but as brave as ten of them bound together. A very good quality in a human. It was something Ithacles had in spades and why Vedette enjoyed his company so much. Nothing had ever stopped the Prince in his tracks. Not a dragon, not a phoenix, and certainly not an ogre. But Ulbarich would probably have been the same, she thought. That didn't make her eager to tell anyone else what she was.

He led them to a table and they sat down in the sort of muted silence that they'd been in since leaving the castle. Onainat seemed a little more cheerful being out of the castle. She was sure it was the promise of food and drinks, and probably enough of both to make up for the lack of much during their journey here. Vedette didn't mind the cold, or being hungry, but Onaiant was used to being warm and fed. It was no surprise that the drinks started coming the moment the woman smiled over her shoulder and turned her lashes down at a table not far from them that was full of men. Vedette didn't seem interested, she was looking at everything but other people and especially not her companions.

The question of where to go from here hung heavily in her mind. Where else did she have to go? The world was wide open, but it seemed terribly closed now. It was easier in her youth to roam it freely, without a care about what she would find on the road. Now that she was an adult she wanted to settle more than ever. It wasn't that wandering wasn't fun, it could be, but that she liked having a home to return to. People to return to. Someone who knew her better than the others ever had. Koe had known her, but there was so little they'd spoke about that wasn't revolving around them together. Whereas she'd told Ithacles a lot more, and he knew her more.. She couldn't measure them fairly. Koe had known enough about her to make her happy all of the time. Ithacles knew enough about her to keep her grounded. The differences were great, but there was no way to measure one or the other. And it didn't matter now did it?

Koe was dead. Ithacles hated her.

She finally looked up to Ulbarich, who already had a tankard of ale in front of him while Onainat had quite a choice of drink in front of her. A little of this, and a little of that. Someone had put a drink in front of her. The glass was frosted and the drink a warm dark brown.

"I apologize for making your evening difficult, Captain Ulbarich. I should not be keeping you from your duty. I apologize for not thanking you earlier but I was.. preoccupied with my thoughts. Thank you for escorting us here. I don't want to get you in trouble with Ithacles, he's quite.." She didn't need to say it.

He probably already knew.

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[info]gatheringsongs
2010-12-13 03:21 am UTC (link)
Onainat felt far more vibrant in tavern light than she did in the stuffy stone halls of Faustben's castle. Now this...! This was what she was longing for! The warmth of fires, the sound of people, the smell of apple ale and soup! There had been no time for life to take root after the burial of her father. No time to celebrate that his spirit hadn't followed his shell into the earth...

Onainat just knew that she would find time to sing tonight. If she weren't with company, she might have floated between tables. Talking to people who came to this place every other day was the most fun. They taught her songs and sometimes local gambling customs. She was never very good at gambling, but the game was always fun. And people rarely tried to cheat her too badly.

Vedette was stiff as a board. Onainat thought she could understand why, but did not see why she was so determined. For her part, she was tired of trying to cheer Vedette up. Perhaps her fair haired friend would simply catch some of her enthusiasm? She smiled prettily at the serving women and waved to the next man to send her a drink. So far, Onainat managed to collect three tall glasses. When one of the girls brought soup for her, she eyed Onainat with concern.

"Do you think you will be alright, drinking so much?" she asked.

Onainat laughed and laughed. People in Faustben were very amusing when they weren't being grouchy! The girl was truly concerned. So Onainat asked the serving girl to bring her another tankard and then gave her a shiny gold coin. Such was her mood, to be giving money away so easily.

She finally paid attention to her friends toward the end of Vedette's apology.

"You should order soup and stop worrying about the Captain. He won't get into trouble. The Prince knew he was going with us. Prince Ithacles was being much nicer when we left..." Onainat pointed out to Vedette. "Besides, there are worse fates than having a drink. Or two. Or maybe more if you'd stay, Captain. Here, you can have one of mine when you're done."

Onainat pushed one of her drinks to Ulbarich and then proceeded to drink a half of her tankard with little breath and too much ease.

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[info]einhajar
2010-12-14 04:44 am UTC (link)
There was no point in explaining that Ithacles never complained about what Ulbarich did. Ever since the incident in the recovery room, when Ulbarich's mother had finally charged in and seen what had caused the commotion, Ulbarich and Ithacles had been at something like a peace. He could make whatever comments he liked so long as he remembered who it was that led. Ithacles remembered it clearly at all times, and Ulbarich was expected to do the same. A sip of his ale. This tin tankard was probably going to poison him and then kill him. It was the sort of thing that was likely to happen to him on this night, when anything could happen and probably would.

A shake of his head.

Another sip of the ale.

They were ready to forget about Ithacles entirely. If her welcome was not warm, Ulbarich supposed he could understand being dejected. He did not approve of the way that Ithacles had behaved. Yet he did not approve of Captain Uthral's handling of the situation, either. If something was important to you then you did not give up. She was ready to simply go, because Ithacles had not welcomed her with a hug and a kiss on the cheek. He would come around if her argument consisted of something involving... a statement about more than herself and what she wanted. They were neither of them knights, and Ulbarich did not aspire to be, but even soldiers had to be unselfish.

It was written in their blood upon the face of the land.

Captain Uthral's comrade was no soldier. Which was fine. Yet Captain Uthral seemed attached to the idea that things should be just so or not at all. Ulbarich did not have a place in any of this. Not to tell Ithacles, and not to tell Captain Uthral. Their differences would be sorted out or not. He was here for the ale, and then he was going to go and sleep in the only finished room of his new home.

A second, more emphatic shake of his head. There was nothing to apologize for.

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[info]in_the_service
2010-12-14 09:53 pm UTC (link)
"He doesn't forgive so easily." Vedette said in a knowing way. She'd upset him, but it was far past the point of captain to Prince. Those things could be forgiven, or you ended up in a noose. No, there was something else there in the way he'd spoken to her. Knowing without knowing. Or maybe she was thinking too hard on the subject. Vedette's cool blue eyes were on her drink. The frosted glass was melting in the warmth of the room, with its roaring fires that cast an orange glow on every one of the inhabitants. Uncomfortably warm. Her fingers closed around the glass and brought it to her lips. She drained it by half. It tasted like bitter on her tongue but it was warm in her belly. She'd missed Faustben every moment she was gone. But her thoughts hadn't gone that far to see it.

Faustben was her home. Ithacles had said that. She'd never considered calling any one place home, not since the breaking. Homes could be taken away, destroyed, and Vedette wasn't sure if she wanted to be tied to any one place. And if they knew what she really was? What if Ulbarich knew? She hesitated with the glass there close to her mouth. Thinking over what she said. She'd been easy to enrage, because her emotions were still so close to the surface. She shouldn't have acted like that. Now she felt guilty for yelling. But she had said she was sorry. She had explained everything to him to the best of her ability.

If he didn't want her around, she would go.

"Why aren't you talking? You haven't spoken a word." Vedette said, hoping the subject change would allow her more time to think. "I apologize for not greeting you but I was.." Vedette waved her hand, and set her drink down. "Well. I could have done introductions but I thought Ithacles knew who everyone was and he was the reason I came to the castle.." Vedette let out a breath.

"But really. It's odd. You're just shaking your head and giving looks and writing things down." Vedette looked right at him. The question was there. What had happened to keep him from speaking. Far enough from the castle and it's stuffy propriety, he should have been able to speak freely.

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[info]gatheringsongs
2010-12-18 04:04 am UTC (link)
It hadn't occurred to Onainat that Captain Ulbarich hadn't spoken at all. How could she have missed something like that? The note he'd written at the castle was strange, but something she passed off as an attempt to be discreet in the face of the Prince's lacking hospitality. His silence never seemed like an uncomfortable thing; he wore the absence of sound as if it were part of him. Maybe that was why she hadn't thought to listen for his voice...

Onainat let the conversation rest between the two of them. Her curiosity was contented enough with her listening to what they were saying. Vedette knew Ulbarich somehow, though she never said how. Onainat was perfectly content to focus on her drink and her soup as Vedette sought her answers. It was always a great pleasure to eat soup that actually tasted like soup. Her soup never came out quite right. Her favorite kind of soups were always ones that had meat -- soft, thinly sliced red meat that had been cooked with carrots and celery and potatoes. Onainat found soup to be the best comfort in the world against cold. Even in the summer months she could find herself eating soup as she dried her clothes and skin from a bad rainstorm.

Onainat wondered, as she sat there slurping soup and pushing at her tankard with her free fingers, how a person could stay silent for many hours. She had met holy men who did that and tested their oaths by trying to surprise them -- which always made for a fun time, but proved their discipline in the end. Onainat supposed discipline or necessity was what such ability came down to. She couldn't have that sort of discipline. If she couldn't sing or shout or simply cause mischief with words, she wasn't quite sure what she'd do with herself. She was lost as it was in a world where she loosed her voice all the time.

The Captain must have had a fascinating story.

She dipped a piece of bread in her soup and ate it quickly. She was eating like a gypsy. Or a very fat man. Oh well. Who knew when she would get such good meals again?

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[info]einhajar
2010-12-19 06:15 am UTC (link)
His grin was sudden. He could not help himself.

Of course, they were both strangers. They had not known him after the incident. Ulbarich supposed that was true for a great many persons in the world. It reminded him, quite suddenly, of the distance between himself and the two of them. A woman as beautiful as Onainat might have encouraged more talk from him. As things stood, he thought of it only in a distant way, and never with himself being aggressive. Despite their connection here - at this table - he was as far apart from them as a man on an island was from the rest of the world. All of his thoughts, all of his feelings, were trapped inside of his skull.

He could make her aware of them, but...

There was both a coarse way and a polite way to inform them of his condition. Neither note was worthy of the scrutiny Onainat's eyes would give it. Yet he produced the more polite of the two papers with a flourish, between two fingers. His movements were military and precise. The arm extended crisply, shoulder and elbow, to lock with the folded paper before Onainat. His eyes danced with mirth. Lips not thinned, yet stretched, forming into a smile. The habit was a difficult one to break. Most importantly because it was necessary, most assuredly in the presence of superior officers.

It said:

Good sir. I was wounded in service to my country. As a result, my tongue was amputated. I am unable to speak, but comprehend the spoken word quite well in any case. My sword is yours to command.

A shrug was added to his expression, when she was done reading. He knew quite well she was no sir, but he did not carry a note addressed to a female. His shrug was half-apology, in his eyes, which were penitent. His shrug was half-laugh, in his grin, which was not.

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[info]in_the_service
2010-12-21 07:34 am UTC (link)
Vedette stared at the note when Onainat held it open for both of them to read. Or at least, moved it to a spot where Vedette could read it as well. Vedette had never considered ever losing her tongue. Such a thing would be terribly difficult for her to overcome. Perhaps not in the way it would be for Onainat, Onainat enjoyed singing, didn't she? But Vedette gave commands, she called out orders, she recited stories from memory and laughed often. She could do none of those things without a tongue, except perhaps laugh. She didn't know. She looked up to Ulbarich, the sudden sense of pity was apparent in her eyes for a moment, then faded. She somehow doubted the man would want her pity. He didn't seem to mind this, one bit, if he did he might not be in the army any longer.

How was he still a Captain without a tongue? Did he still get to order people around? Did he have more prepared notes for such occasions? The curiosity that was always within her stood out clearly now, but asking such questions was impolite. She dragged the tip of her tongue over the back of her teeth while thinking. Just to make sure it was still there.

"You're very good at communicating without words. You always were." Vedette said with a knowing look. They'd passed orders and directions between each other once, without words, deep in the woods. A strange time. Vedette remembered it clearly, like all memories that tied her to Ithunvel. The man had been a second father, perhaps that's why the sudden refusal from Ithacles had struck her so hard.

"I'm sorry Onainat. I've been rather stuck in my thoughts. Ulbarich is a Captain for Faustben, he and I met when I was still in the army. When the King was still alive. Roughly, oh, what ten years ago? Less than that I think." Vedette always had trouble with specific years. Her years were long, surpassing Ulbarich's, certainly, but not Onainat's.

She lifted her glass again, without much thought her fingers curled around the glass and the condensation began to freeze again. She enjoyed a good cold drink. Carefully she did it, then lifted it back to her lips to take a drink.

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[info]gatheringsongs
2010-12-24 06:03 am UTC (link)
The note came as a surprise to Onainat. Vedette was right. The Captain was very good at communicating without words. The delivery of the note was more formal that Onainat could ever imagine being, but made light by Ulbarich's expression. She couldn't imagine being without her tongue, much less the pain that went along with losing a part of her body. There was humor in his eyes for the note, though, and that only made her smile in return.

"Do you give everyone the same note? The same way?" she asked. She hoped it wasn't rude. She thought he was very professional. Being asked to explain why he didn't talk must have become a burden after a while. He had no issue writing notes in the castle, but that was over impersonal things. He hadn't been upset by anything so far, not that she could tell. Onainat thought his face to be very kind.

Well, maybe it was rude. Onainat was able to see the bottom of her tankard, so she did not count herself as a good judge of polite conversation.

"Ah, I'm sorry. I am very curious and it only gets worse with ale. Faustben is very strange with the greeting of old acquaintances and friends. Maybe I will be more accustomed by the end of my stay? I would have never known you knew each other before."

This conversation seemed to be easier than anything else. She'd passed at least ten minutes without thinking of anything but questions. No depressing thoughts of lost fathers, dead trees, being separated from friends. Just ale and questions and soup. Delicious soup. She thought that was a step in the right direction.

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[info]einhajar
2010-12-28 02:53 pm UTC (link)
Ulbarich pardoned himself so that he could take a deep pull of ale. It was not as simple as everyone thought that it was, but he accepted his note back all the same. Pity for one and curiosity for the other. His life had become a series of questions that had to be answered. Questions that had very little to do with himself. Another lot of a soldier was that you were not a hero. No one, at the end of the day, gave a damn about you. Knights became legends and kings were protected with the lives of husbands and wives, fathers and mothers, brothers and sisters. Soldiers were those lives. You would fade into history, always, because you were nothing. And as usual - as he so often predicted - not one of their words had anything to do with him.

He did not know why that surprised him. All the same.

When the mug came to rest again, he nodded with with pinched eyes and a pinched mouth in Onainat's direction. The ale had puckered his face - it was warm, it was flush with yeast, and it was fucking terrible despite the barkeep's best attempts - but his skin smoothed an instant later. Endless searching for a tavern that could provide you with cold ale and this was the best that it got. They lived in the mountains. Ice was all around them, even in the summer time, if you looked hard enough. Surely there was a way to make sure he didn't have to drink this swill. Neither of them was saying a thing. Perhaps Captain Uthral - Vedette, or whatever the hell she was calling herself now - had played a joke on him.

She had the face as satisfaction.

Ulbarich's hand moved, then, toward the epaulets he wore so proudly. Yellow tassels hung suspended there. One, perhaps, for every useless thing he did every single day. The soldier's index finger drew across the tassels slowly, very slowly, almost as though playing the strings on a harp. When he neared the extent of his reach - across the body was never that easy - Ulbarich spun his finger in the tassels twice, twisting them up for the space of a second or two. Eventually the tassels dropped down as they had been, and he faced the two of them once more. This time his smile was wry. This time his eyes held no mirth. The message, he thought, was quite clear.

Duty complicated everything. And you couldn't greet anyone the way you wanted to in front of a prince.

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[info]in_the_service
2011-01-03 06:20 am UTC (link)
"I wouldn't call us friends." Vedette said simply.

She would not have called him a friend. That of course didn't mean that she didn't like Captain Ulbarich, but she had so few friends. She did her best not to make them. Friends complicated things in the same way that love complicated things. Not that she spent her youth like that, no, she'd been friends with everyone then. Before the breaking. Her only real friend, if she did not count Koe as Koe had been something else entirely, was Ithacles. That friendship had a whole set of complications. He was a Prince and she was a Captain. He was a half elf and she was a dragon. Then the whole, man and woman thing and everything that complicated that there.

Too many close calls to name.

"Not that he wouldn't make a good friend, Onainat." Vedette lifted her eyes then away from her glass. "We were soldiers, Captains. There's a certain camaraderie there, but hardly any of us Captains were friends. Too much competition between them and we're all off running different missions or guarding other things. For myself, I was always somewhere out of Faustben or around the castle. And Ulbarich had his men to look after." Vedette shrugged.

"But then Prince Ithacles was around, it's not like we had a chance to shake hands and laugh about this battle or that battle. Not to mention you saw the mood I put him in." Vedette looked back at her glass.

"Even if it were on friendlier terms I probably would have waited to greet Ulbarich until after Ithacles left. He does like to be the center of attention unless his sister is around." His sister was such a hag.

Vedette had made so many mistakes in leaving Ithacles. Not that she'd ever take what she did back. There was no way to put a price on the gift she'd been given in seeing Koe again, and being with him again. The spot was still sore, she didn't want to think of him right now. What she'd done was abandon her post, even if the cause mattered enough to her, it was still abandoning. The problem was explaining such things to Ithacles. Apologizing for them. Hoping for the best when it just didn't seem bright any longer.

The other problem, of course, was that she was stubborn and so was Ithacles. She hardly wanted to apologize again, and he likely didn't want to forgive her.

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[info]gatheringsongs
2011-01-06 01:28 am UTC (link)
"Ah. When I was in the military I was...well they called me a scout. It was my job to make friends. Well, before I quit anyway." Onainat said. She looked into her empty ale cup and seeing the bottom made her a little sad, so she took back the one she offered Ulbarich. He was still drinking his first and made a funny face when he did. Onainat thought she could always buy him another. Or maybe some one else would send alcohol her way and she could give that to him. Or MAYBE she could earn her keep and play music for booze...

She had paused too long.

"Now that I think about it, you're right. Captains aren't very chummy. Neither are generals or colonels...or whatever else involves shiny pins and angry faces. I do like the shiny pins. It's just too bad so many people have to die to earn them."

Chummy. What a weird word. She thought about it as she drank some ale. Maybe she spent too much time in taverns, but the sourness to it didn't make her wince.

"Anyway, yes, too bad! You both have been very nice to me. You should be friends. We should be friends."

She laughed. Onainat thought this was very funny. It had to be, otherwise she'd be terribly bored. As a side thought, she poked only once at one of Ulbarich's tassels. They seemed very important. They probably were. Normal people just didn't wear tassels out of the house. Why did they wear tassels? Tassels were strange looking if off on their own, yet they looked so serious on a military uniform...

"As for princes...princes are people too. Just with a lot of land and money. And ego. And money. I said that. Oh. And beautiful spoons. But then...there are many in the world just like that and not princes. So I don't know what to tell you. I think even Prince Ithacles must appreciate the friends he has. So is it so hard to say its good to see you? Or come get drunk with me it's been a while? Or hey, you look great for escaping death so recently?"

Onainat shook her head.

"Even with bowing involved, I think not!"

She was rambling. A good sign that she might go looking for someone to play music with her soon. Maybe she would be even luckier and someone else would play so she could do the easy part of humming along. Onainat laughed and drank some more of her ale. It did taste weird, didn't it? And why did they frost mugs? How did they do it? Did they keep all their mugs in the snow?

Ha. Ha ha ha.

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[info]einhajar
2011-01-06 02:48 am UTC (link)
Ulbarich did not attempt to stop her relieving him of his second mug. Or whatever mug it would have been. She drank like a fish and she did not care very much what it tasted like on the way down, apparently. Ulbarich thought it must be a side effect of her recent troubles. The both of them were talking. Enough that he thought they'd escaped feeling awkward at his own lack of oratory ability. It gave him time to wonder about his own father. About what it must have been like, being a general - controlling so many men, preaching that their loyalty was to the crown while secretly earning all of it for yourself. The tremendous loyalty and character that it must take to put aside your own ambitions in such a case. Ulbarich was glad that he was not a general, as he was now. His discipline had been destroyed just after his tongue.

He had not yet begun to search for more of it.

A lively band of persons was coming down the aisle toward them, with drinks and songs filling their mouths, but something about the group was wrong. He did not know what it was. The knives were too high on their belts. They acted merry and flush with ale. Yet they were not. He wore nothing that was meant to subdue a man for questioning. He also had nothing on his person that would allow him to face such odds with a comfortable advantage. The real question became quite simple. Why were they here? He would have yelled Stop!, if that were within his power. There was no way for them to know that he could not talk. Handing them a note was not going to go well.

He caught one's eye. They were staring at each other. Both aware that their target now perceived them as more than a simple passer-by.

They were here for him?

"Now!"

Ulbarich surged away from the bench. His Katzbalger came out of its sheath in a reverse-grip. The wide, flat pommel smashed into the chin of his first assailant before the fellow could clear a knife from his shirt. Ulbarich gave the wide, hacking blade a short upward jerk before he let go and reversed his grip mid-drop. Now right side up, the blade lashed forward and sideways. A wide, cartwheeling grip intended to make them take a step back. Boots were on benches as men fled the vicinity of this tight and unannounced fight. Tin plates and cups were spilling onto the floor as the unarmed took flight, rolling over adjacent tables to escape the unfolding carnage. Someone screamed as the Katzbalger cleaved through their arm. One, clean stroke. Not a bystander. There was a knife on the floor, and blood.

Fools. At least one of them should have brought a sword. It never occurred to him that he might have asked Onainat or Captain Uthral for help. Her title stayed formal, he decided with a bark of rasping laughter, because they were not friends.

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[info]in_the_service
2011-01-09 08:10 pm UTC (link)
Vedette finished the last of her glass before standing. Most women would have screamed and started to run for the door but there was one thing Vedette was really good at and that was fighting. She still had her glass in hand and the first thing she did with it was slam the thing into the face of the closest man who seemed to be gunning for Ulbarich. It shattered on impact, and Vedette cleared her hand from it before she could be cut as well. He yelled and slashed with a short dagger he'd pulled from his coat. Vedette barely had to turn her small frame sideways to avoid the blade, she grabbed his arm with both of her hands and twisted it around, the dagger dropped. Vedette kicked him square in the back and down he went.

She picked a jug of water off of a nearby table as all hell broke loose and dumped it over the next man who seemed aware that she'd joined the fight. She was smiling, he was sputtering. Two, three seconds before the cold sunk in. The man's eyes were wide as the water turned to a sheet of ice the closer Vedette got to his person. She picked up a chair as she went, and swung it for his face. Down he went, along with the other man that she'd already knocked down. It was only stunning moves. She supposed she could kill them, but without her bow she wasn't as good.

She really did need to learn sword play one day.

Vedette picked up a heavy piece of the chair she'd just demolished and began to use it as a club.

"So apparently something happened when I was gone." She yelled to Ulbarich, but she was smiling. "They seem to want you dead."

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[info]gatheringsongs
2011-01-09 09:22 pm UTC (link)
Something shattered next to her as she took another sip of her soup. The soup was better than the ale, but she couldn't have one without the other. Onainat watched everyone move and folded her legs underneath her as a man collapsed to the floor not far from her feet. She wasn't opposed to brawls in a tavern, but she liked to finish her meal first! The sourness of the ale still made her blood light. Ulbarich seemed to be doing well enough. Vedette had frozen water -- that was fun. Onainat wondered what it would be like to freeze something.

Onainat ducked her head to avoid an elbow and took another drink of her ale. This would make a good song, if she could think of words. Captains in the bar. Beating people up. Drinking out of frozen mugs. Onainat hummed and took a silver piece out of her pocket, flipping it heads side up in her palm.

She didn't think it was good, trying to kill a Prince's Captain. If she had to get involved, she might just have to waste a perfectly shiny coin. But Onainat thought if Vedette would clobber a few of them and the Captain would run them through, there wasn't much need for lightning.

Onainat raised her mug to her lips. Her soup was almost done anyhow.

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[info]einhajar
2011-01-10 04:44 am UTC (link)
Patrons were hustling for any exit they could reach as quickly as they could reach it, overcoats and furs forgotten - despite the depth of the winter awaiting them - out of simple desperation. Captain Uthral had someone on the ground with an injury that had ruined his vision. Ulbarich twisted away from a knot of strangers to take a knee at the side of the fallen man. One hard stab with the Katbalger relieved him of the breath of life. Ulbarich swung hard over his shoulder again, almost as though he knew someone was coming. The attacker with the sword made his presence known, then, jumping back and cursing. He was good. Ulbarich could see that much from the way he avoided unnecessary contact. From the way he kept himself low and observant, watching the muscles of Ulbarich's shoulders and chest for the telegraph of the next move.

Who hired a professional to assault a guard captain in a tavern?

His head was full of wool. Reactions were slowing down. His instincts were failing him. Too quickly back on duty from the injuries he'd suffered; not all of those injuries had been healed by magic. Just the ones that were life-threatening or held the promise of future disability. Ulbarich felt that pinch in his side before his opponent noticed it. Instead of lunging forward, Ulbarich's heel jammed into the vacant bench, and he kicked as hard as he could toward his assailant. The wooden bench's legs creaked and finally gave way. A smattering of sound as it bit into the man's ankles. The swordsman had not expected such a dirty blow. Now he was lurching backward.

Ulbarich twisted his sword in his hand. A collective of soldiers streamed in from the out-of-doors, furs concealing the steel plate which nevertheless clattered at each and every step. The only armor you could see were their greaves, and the tips of their gauntlet-drenched fingers, but it was enough. Each and every one of them had a pike. The fellow with the sword smiled, shook his head and stood up straight. His bastard sword fell to the ground. Those hands went up, and clutched the back of his head, as though he knew the way of what came next. Ulbarich supposed he'd been arrested before.

Another ring of steel on steel as the Katzbalger was dropped back into its scabbard. A jerk of his head and his knots of rank - hanging pristine from one shoulder - told the soldiers what to do. Take everyone into gods-damned custody until someone could find out what the hell all of this was about. Fortunately, more soldiers were streaming in, with irons hanging over their arms.

There were a lot of persons to arrest.

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[info]in_the_service
2011-01-10 10:41 pm UTC (link)
Vedette had almost forgotten the rush one felt when they were fighting, and in such a dirty manner. Onainat seemed content with her soup and her ale, that made Vedette laugh. Soldiers were streaming in and Vedette could only fall back to her place beside Onainat, but she was turned backwards now with her back to the table so she could watch what was happening. She wasn't even out of breath, but there was a flush of pink across her cheeks. She felt warm. She wanted to fight a dozen more because it was easier to ignore your problems when you were defending something. That was what she was missing. A purpose. While travelling with Koe had a familiar feeling, it wasn't what she'd become later in life. It did have a ring of purpose to it, and fulfillment in a way. But when Koe died she felt empty and alone in a way she hadn't in too long a time.

She wanted to believe that Ithacles would let her return to her post, but if he didn't she needed to think of what else she was capable of doing. There were plenty of people out there in the world to protect. But was that what she wanted? To fight for other people or to continue fighting for him? She loved Faustben in a way none of these men could understand. It wasn't just her home. It was everything to her. She'd spent her life here, much longer than any of their lives. And not just that, her family had died in the heights of the mountains. As a girl she'd devoted time to learning their customs and defending the borders of Faustben from orcs. Practice, her father had said. For the world she did not quite understand.

That was long before Ithunvel was even a child.

Vedette watched as the soldiers began clapping men in irons and slowly settled back more into a relaxing stance. She wanted to ask Ulbarich what was going on, but without the man being able to speak she did not know how much he could tell her. Writing it out seemed a timely sort of venture.

But she didn't want to ask Ithacles either. No choice then.

"What was that about?" She asked Ulbarich now.

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[info]gatheringsongs
2011-01-13 04:47 am UTC (link)
Onainat lifted her bowl to her lips and polished off her soup. When she was done she pushed the bowl toward the center of the table and looked back at Ulbarich.

"You don't gamble do you? Sometimes people will try to kill gamblers, especially the good ones," she said. "But that's mainly because most good ones cheat a little."

She paused.

"You don't look like a cheater. So what is it?"

Onainat was all out of guesses. Although, maybe he slept with someone's wife. That could get someone to hire a bunch of thugs. Yet that pointed to dishonorable behavior again. Onainat didn't really think the Captain would be sleeping with someone's wife. She was about to search around for more ale and give up when a thought occurred to her. A very smart thought. She thought.

She kicked Vedette under the table.

"Hey," Onainat said. "Hey, we should help him while we're here doing...well...nothing. And not talking to the Prince. And not going to parties. Helping might be good. People are trying to kill him!"

Onainat looked back at Ulbarich. She smiled.

"We could help you stop people from killing you, right?"

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[info]einhajar
2011-01-13 10:42 pm UTC (link)
The last thing he wanted to do was address either of a pair of strangers who obviously gave less than half of a damn about his troubles. Not that he blamed them. These were not their troubles and this was not their nation. At least, not any longer. Ulbarich thought long and hard, but he was not thinking about them. He was thinking about why someone would go to the trouble of finding him and trying to kill him only to let it go after so poor a showing and simply flee. Or try to flee. Most assassins were more prepared than that. They'd been taken alive, they would be questioned separately, and soon or late one of them was going to confess what he knew. How strange was it, that he'd been in the crown prince's employ for so short a time and yet he seemed almost immune to the threat and promise of violence? Ulbarich wanted to feel panicked about his prospects.

The truth was, a fight was the only place he felt at home. He was starting to understand Ithacles a bit more every day.

A shake of his head.

Whatever had brought these murderous louts to this tavern, it had to do with him and only with him. No help from them would be required or asked for. however, he would not then feel proper simply leaving them here. They'd come here with him. If anyone had seen them with him, they might well become targets. It was time to make a final exit of this place. To hell with Ithacles and his opinions. They were going to sleep in the castle tonight, even if it was half of an hour's ride from this very spot. Ulbarich did not think he wanted the weight of their deaths on his conscience. Even if they were not friends. Her casual dismissal of whatever friendship they did have was starting to burn, behind his eyes, but he thought it also could have been sobriety.

When it bit, it bit hard.

What followed after the shake of his head was a wave of his arm. They were going to be off, now, and he started walking with purpose in the direction of the door. And the street. What few faces remained were watching as impassively as they could manage.

There was drinking yet to be done.

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[info]in_the_service
2011-01-16 08:34 pm UTC (link)
Vedette snarled when Onainat kicked her, the maneuver caught her off guard and it was the beast within which answered. Just as quickly that was smothered, Vedette picked up a glass that was half empty and finished it. She could have used a tankard of whiskey. Her limbs weren't even sore. She could have used a dozen sparring partners with their wooden swords and the bruises that they left behind. Blood was pumping through her and she wanted to help Ulbarich. At the same time, helping Ulbarich probably meant facing Ithacles again. Vedette didn't like that idea. Not when she still felt raw and unwanted.

Still.

She got up to follow the man. Onainat would surely follow along.

"You'll refuse our help." Vedette said quietly. "That won't stop me from trying, of course." She smiled behind his back. If she'd been attacked in public and her companions, maybe not friends. Was she so quick to dismiss the human term because it meant feeling something? She still didn't feel right feeling anything so soon after Koe's death, but maybe she was too quick with her ruling. She was no longer a captain. That meant it didn't matter what she was, or what she did, within the laws of the country at least. It didn't matter any more what her relationships were with other captains.

It meant she didn't have to worry about the next mission so much as worrying about the people she wanted to worry for.

Something had happened and she wanted to know what it was.

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