[Kaer Jeger] Pups no more

[Varthakh]

83rd Ymiden 717

Thirty trials. That's how long they'd been with the Jegers and that's how long it took for him and Alistair to hone their skills. The two had come so far in such a short time, from the aggressors at the front of their gates to recruits, to respected and now hounds. This was the trial that he and his beloved became hounds of the Jegers, packmates. They would be allowed to join a pack and join on real hunts, the two of them and three others. This job, it had been easy enough so far, the Alpha Feron was the most difficult thing he'd fought as a Jeger and the Lurker of the plains as a civilian.

He made his way through Kaer Jeger, approaching the hall that this was all due to go down in. It had been a smooth sailing thirty trials since they joined, but this was the end of that easiness, he was sure. No more faffing about in the dirt with Stekir and Scython, they were moving up in the path and so their prey had to move up, also. What would the next season bring them? When the two suns burned as bright and fiercely as they could, what would they have to face in the coming trials? Monster hunting would be so much more difficult in the suffocating heat, for sure.

It didn't matter, really. Him and Alistair could overcome anything together, event he Soranaar that had partially petrified him an age ago. With his beloved at his side, who could stand in their way? Not the Soranaar, that was for sure. And hell, if they'd tried to hurt someone when they arrived at Kaer Jeger, they would have. They were so strong together and the plains would know it.

When at last he arrived at the hall where Royand waited for them, Fridgar turned and planted his back against the wall, waiting for Alistair. They'd joined together and they would progress together, it was only fair. he wasn't too far off anyway, their initiation bond made it easy to get a feel for where the human was. That, piled atop their soul-bond from the Likryjr, they couldn't be closer. All was right in the world, him and his mate united. Sure, they'd had their bumps and bruises and Fridgar was still struggling with remorse, but he was trying. Things could only get better from here, right?

With that resolve planted firmly in his head, the Lothar stood tall and proud in his loin cloth, broad axe in hand. There, he waited for his beloved. As time went by, Fridgar considered what had lead him here. he was the enemy of the Jeger to start, but by the grace of the creator and Ganren's compliance, he was allowed, forced really, to join the Jeger as a pup. It was because Thetros had been keeping an eye on him that he got this far. Interestingly, Fridgar had earned the attention of an Immortal just by being himself. Clasping his clawed paws, Fridgar prayed to Thetros. "Hey, Creator guy. I'm about to be ranked up to hound already, can you believe it? Since this was your idea, I figured you'd want to watch, so here's a heads up. This ceremony goes to you!"

[Alistair]

"Fridgaaaar," the kindal yelled to his mate, rushing down the hall and throwing all of his weight into a leaping hug. Alistair showered his husband with kisses, wrapping his legs firmly around the Lotharro's muscular waist and holding him tightly and tenderly. Royand smiled faintly at the scene - he couldn't help but find their adoration for one another admirable. And cute.

However, there were things to say to Alistair, before the initiation commenced. Royand cleared his throat, obviously beckoning for Alistair and Fridgar to offer him their attention. The mage attempted to steer his mate so he could come into view of the Jeger, though whether or not he succeeded would largely involve Fridgar's level of defiance. Either way, he kissed his mate and kept him close, whispering the words husband softly in his ear.

"Alistair," Royand called to him, "I've learned of your actions in the conquest of Argos. A Kriger Warden who served as a Captain within the Alsingarde informed me of a human Jeger, wearing black leather and silvery zirconium armor with a double-bladed Terrendyte spear. He mentioned you prowling the streets of Argos, searching for things... namely people. There are accounts of you whisking away children via your portals, preventing them from being taken as spoils of war." Royand looked to both of them callously, as if he were disappointed. Fridgar was supposed to manage his kindal, and Alistair had sworn loyalty to the Horde. The Packmaster felt... a font of disdain.

"Considering these accounts were taken to me, and not my father, I decided upon mercy and will commence your part of the initiation ceremony regardless. But - let it be known, if you obscure the Horde's objectives in any future battles, you could lose more than your rank. Your actions were borderline treason, and could result in banishment or even death if taken to any further extreme," he noted. The man did not wish to mar their ceremony with these words, but... they needed to be said, and now in the thick of celebration, the words would be more memorable.

The mage frowned, looking to Royand, and then back to Fridgar. He gestured for his husband to let him down, and then got onto his feet, exhaling.

"I understand, Royand," he stated. The Packmaster nodded his head, and went on, stepping out towards the glade where the initiation ceremony would be held.

Alistair sighed. "Fridgar, I..." he started, "The Horde's actions were cruel, Fridgar. Those children would grow up to become something -- wise, strong, brave. Instead, they are condemned to a path of bitterness and suffering. I couldn't stand for it... and you shouldn't either. Ralaith taught me that men are not born evil, and I can only imagine that the atrocities of the Horde create this darkness that we see. Even bloody Ellasin was created in part by the Horde, so long ago. They need to be tamed -- restrained, somehow. They need to learn to withdraw their passions. That battle was madness."

The mage's mind had lingered on it for trials. Fridgar was surely just excited to become a Hound, but... Alistair felt differently. He wanted to fix it all, change it. Teach them wisdom, help temper the savagery of their minds, all of them. It wasn't enough to just live as a source of stability for Fridgar, not when he knew that there were millions of his brothers who needed so desperately to learn.

"Tomorrow comes Saun. Come that season, I'll be joining the fight. The war. But I'm doing it my way. There can be wisdom in bloodshed, but not in brutality."

He shook his head; Alistair needed to clear his mind. This was supposed to be a happy day.

"Love, I'm sorry. Hold me?" he asked, leaning into Fridgar. "I want to celebrate. I do. Let's go out there and be proud."

[Varthakh]

He hadn't been waiting long when Alistair rushed him, leaping into his arms. A smile crept across his features, glad that his Kindal arrived so soon "Alistair!" Fridgar called joyously, wrapping the human in his big arms as he took the full weight of the adorable human. Alistair painted all over his bare skin with kisses, exciting his near-enough naked body. Fridgar shuddered, heralding his pleasure in the soft tingles of his skin.

It wasn't to last though, as Alistair demonstrated his newfound contentedness in his role as Kindal, Royand approached the pair. He brought with him warnings, scoldings, threats, accusations... He was being a prick. Fridgar gripped Alistair tighter, squeezing him perhaps a little harder than he should have as he looked to the pack master. The Lothar was pissed, how dare he speak to his Kindal like that? Royand, once respectable in his eyes had turned sour. And why? Because Alistair saved some kids? The giant seethed, turning red with rage, but still, he held back.

More memorable indeed, Fridgar was excellent at holding grudges. Though, most would have perished in the old trials before his grudge could have been fully realised. Fuck Royand, he was being a cunt. "Yes, sir." Fridgar managed with a lax jaw. He otherwise grit his teeth in regret.

When Royand left, Alistair explained and confessed to the action. As though he'd done something wrong. Fridgar shook his head and put the noble down. "Alistair, I didn't kill any civilians. There was this one woman, about to be raped by another Lothar. I beat him and claimed her as my spoils..." Fridgar confessed. "I never touched her though, I sent her on her way. Shed lost enough without her virtue on the list," The Lothar explained, smiling to the human. "What you did makes me proud, my rose. Just try to be a bit sneakier next time?"

It was a fair enough request, being executed for treason would suck. So would letting children be sold into slavery. When Alistair apologised, Fridgar shook his head. "Don't be sorry my love, I'm the one who's sorry for not breaking his jaw." And with that, he recollected the human into his arms and set off deeper into the hall. He kissed his beloved all over. Little reminders of the passion and love he felt for his Kindal, no matter the shit they might get into. At the end of the trial, his beloved was more important to him than any path or region could ever hope to be, he just hoped Alistair knew that.

He carried the human all the way to the centre of the hall where other pups were gathered with Royand stood before them. Clenching hard on his jaw, he lowered the human and set him on his feet. The Lothar's eyes settled on the gathering, but avoided eye contact. He especially avoided looking at Royand, bitterness weighing heavy in his jaw. The trial would come that he ranked higher than Royand. One way or another, he was going to get square. he took his position next to the other pups, towering high above them with more mass than nearly every one of the younger Lotharen. He was just about ready to get this over with, looking to his beloved, he was sure he felt the same way.

[Alistair]

The mage was, actually, surprised that Fridgar did not seethe and yell at Royand. He could see the anger rising, but he kept it restrained, and away from creeping into his voice. Yes, sir, he said obediently, triggering a risen brow by the mage. Fridgar, to some extent, had tamed himself. As much as they both hated complying to insanity, he had to confess he was proud of it. Very proud.

He was also proud that they followed the same path, not ventilating war-inspired fury on the citizenry. Fridgar killed no one. He did... claim a woman as his spoils, though? What? The mage's body tensed immediately, a slight pang thrusting into his chest before the Lotharro continued. Oh. Alistair's face immediately lit into a smile, snuggling into his love. "You're a good man, husband," he whispered, kissing him. "I'm glad you didn't kill any civilians. Let's be the rebels of the war -- enemies only. People, when they witness the sort of brutality we witnessed... they change, Fridgar. It perpetuates this cycle, maddeningly. I don't want to be a part of that," Alistair stated, shaking his head.

Fridgar didn't want to have any part of that evil, too. He told Ali not to be sorry, and kissed him all over, inciting a warmth and adoration from his mate. Alistair melted, just so content to be in his husband's arms after all that. The craziness, the cruelty. It had been taxing, so taxing.

Fridgar picked him up, causing for a blush from the noble. He relaxed and exhaled, allowing his husband to take him to the center of the hall, as embarrassing as it might've been. Surprisingly, the other Jegers did not seem to judge them once they arrived - he could actually see a tinge of jealousy in many of them. Fridgar and Alistair were a loving couple, and for all of their faults and arguments, the passion they held for one another transcended boundaries. Especially now that they knew they really had been destined in the stars, and would live so many more lives together from this point on.

He stood next to his havendal, and tried to stand straight, resisting the compulsion to hold him.

Royand began to speak, fortunately in Haltunga, as Alistair no longer struggled with the tongue.

"From here on out, all of you will be Hounds. You'll be assigned to a Pack, you'll be led by a Dire, you'll endure your first mutagen and the Dance of the Graces. It's a tough life ahead, I won't lie. While Kriger might celebrate for trials on end when they join the Wardens, we can't celebrate the same way. Half of you will die within the next ten arcs. Half of the remaining before twenty arcs. Remember these faces, your brothers -- be good to them, be kind, understand them. They won't be with you forever, hell, a bunch of these guys won't even be with you in Vhalar. This is a cruel world, and it's a world at war. In Saun, the Jegers will be joining the war, hunting down elite targets and going on smaller, more crucial missions. I'm sorry to say this, but all of you are drafted," he stated, a subtly unhappy look upon his face. He did not appreciate the war -- Jegers were meant to kill monsters, not...

Not go around murdering people of interest, generals, traders and leaders. It was breaking a historical tradition.

But it made sense, it did. And they had to do what they could. Whatever that meant.

"Korok and Mugar. You two will be joining Bjornod Ryder's pack. Report to him immediately after this ceremony," he commanded. "Kalahan and Foltest, you'll be joining my pack -- we recently got two vacancies, when a Llewnos murdered them during Fridgar and Alistair's trial of the survivor," he stated, grinning at the two.

"And Fridgar and Alistair. You two are pretty powerful -- you killed an Alpha Feron on your Trail of the Nemesis. That's, to put it lightly, incredible. I genuinely don't think I would be able to kill one without my pack, and we'd probably lose some people. So... I'm going to put you in Halden's pack, the Vindikar. It's for our elite, top-of-the-line recruits. You'll be venturing out closer to the red than these other guys," he stated, nodding.

"To be honest, I didn't think I'd ever tell a human he was among the best fighters present... but Alistair and you, we're glad to have recruited you. Ganren's happy, I'm sure. He's just quite silent about his approval," the man nodded. Shortly thereafter, their Dires and Packmasters arrived, eager to meet their recruits. Halden stood in the corner, scowling silently at the two.

[Varthakh]

Alistair didn't like that he'd 'claimed a woman', but Fridgar quickly explained himself. It was for her safety and he didn't do anything unethical to her. Thankfully, Alistair understood and snuggled back into him. As for being a good man, well... "..Alistair," Fridgar started, his tone heavy. "I've been... struggling recently," he confessed, though to what was not yet defined. "This whole changing thing... Knowing what I used to be like and..." Fridgar sighed, saddened. "If I can change, like really change. If what I was, is capable becoming one of these rebels of war, then surely, every other Lothar is too? I can’t help but feel like I'm not the only one who can change, given how far gone I was."

Fridgar shook his head. "Maybe I have too much faith in our brethren? Just tell me if I'm being dumb, okay?" Fridgar was appeared distressed. Sure, he was just fuming at Royand just a few bits ago, but that was for his attitude and his waving of the finger. In truth, he didn't resent the Lothar for what they did and more saw them as lost, as he'd once been. "Alistair," Fridgar spoke full of determination. "I want to be the next Jackal. I need a position of power to be able to assert our ideals, values and standards. So that's what I'm going to do. I'm going to take this place by storm, just you wait," he promised, kissing his beloved on the lips.

And with that, he lifted the human and carried him deeper into the hall. he appeared to be blushing as Fridgar set him down, was he embarrassed? No, it must have been the dim lighting. Alistair loved being man handled by Fridgar, or so he believed. Shrugging it off, he kissed the human before assuming his position. Once Alistair was next to him, Royand began the ceremony. He was right, they really couldn't celebrate the same as the Krigers. Instead, they were given a speech about how they were going to either die or watch their friends die.

Maybe Fridgar was being too bitter, maybe Royand deserved it. Dealing with this sort of anger without a fist fight was difficult, how long could he hold it? However long it was, it was at least better than attacking a superior rank to him, right? Those laws were universal. For as long as he could, he would bottle it up and let it fester. No way was he going to ruin this ceremony, he'd just have to take out his aggression on some unfortunate hound in the arena. Clamping his jaw tight, he listened with half an ear as the two-faced pack master went on and on.

At last, he started assigning people to teams; two pups were in some Rayder pack, another two were with Royand and Fridgar and Alistair were assigned to... Halden! Fridgar could see him in the corner with his usual resting bitch face. The Vindikar, they were for the elites? seriously? Fridgar had known that Halden was awesome, but he didn't realise that he was an elite dire. Perhaps totrial had some hope of being not-shit? Fridgar smiled to his beloved, offering his hand to be taken by the noble. As the other four Hounds were assigned to their packs, they dispersed and joined with their designated leaders.

Exhaling, Fridgar dropped his smile and passed a nod to the pack master before guiding his Kindal to their new Dire. Halden would maintain his negative expression as the two approached, even though Fridgar was smiling brightly with excitement. "Halden!" Fridgar spoke in Haltunga while the older Lothar snarled. "What? Why do I have a human in my pack? It's bad enough I have a bred Lothar, now I-" Halden stopped upon noticing Royand's eyes, which settled upon him almost threateningly. Halden then remained quiet, nestling further into the corner as he eye-balled the two hounds.

"Halden," Fridgar spoke grinning, seeming oblivious to the older Lothar's aggression. "Don't be stupid, you know Alistair could kill you in a hundred different ways right now if he wanted," Fridgar reminded the forgetful Lothar. "Oh? Please, remind me for the sixtieth time," Halden spoke, his tone full of sarcasm. Fridgar rolled his eyes. "Well fine, if you're just going to be moody about it..." Fridgar started, looking about the room to see the other hounds being adorned with cloaks. Those were the cloaks assigned to every Jeger upon progression from Pup, but, where were theirs? Their respective pack masters and Dires adorned them with the garments from behind.

Fridgar turned to Halden with light in his eyes, opening his mouth to ask if the older Lothar would give them their cloaks, but Halden cut him off before he could speak with a firm "No." Fridgar rolled his eyes. "What, we don't get any cloaks?" Fridgar asked, growing impatient. Halden looked to Royand, who was stood with his arms crossed, about ready to storm over there and give him what for. Halden grumbled and muttered under his breath before reaching below him and taking to medium leather bags from the corner he laid against. he then dropped them in Fridgar’s waiting arms before storming past the taller Lothar with a distinct "Welcome to Vindikar, pups."

Fridgar sighed, shaking his head. "Well, that's Halden, my rose." Fridgar explained, looking to the bags before passing one to Alistair. "He wasn't always like that, he gave me my Terrendyte axe and called me his friend a little while ago, honest." Little to the Lothar's knowledge, the language barrier had blocked off nearly all of what he'd said that trial, none of it pleasant or friendly. Inside the leather bags, they would find their cloaks. Fridgar would smile to his beloved at the discovery, glad to finally be a hound.

[Alistair]

Fridgar's words meant a lot to him. His contemplation, introspection, and thinking about others and how they could change too - it showed that his guilt, his grief, they were sincere. They would remind him of who he'd been, and who he wanted to be. That was all the proof he'd ever need to say without any doubt that Fridgar had become a truly great man, one who wanted genuinely to forgive and be forgiven.

The mage swept in and held him, tenderly pressing their bodies together. "They can change, Fridgar. You're completely, absolutely right. The Horde doesn't have to be like this. It can be better. No, it will be. We can change them, lots of them. I believe we can," he stated, nodding. "We've decided to stay here, so we'll need to make the best of the land we live in. We'll need to contribute, but with more than just death. Life, too, matters. And enriching life. I promise you -- these people are worth changing," Alistair told him, cradling the Lothar as the two confessed of their intentions, and new beliefs.

"Recently, I became invested to an Immortal, for the first time. His name's Ralaith - you might know him, because one of his Domains is Bears," the mage said, laughing lightly. "I've decided I want to pursue the path he might want me to. I want to bring wisdom and prosperity to these people. There's so much untapped greatness in this land, and so much hidden knowledge. It's time to explore it all. For everyone to explore it," he stated, stepping back so that they could proceed.

Fridgar knew now what Alistair had intended, and the mage muttered a prayer beneath his breath as they went forward. He thought, maybe Fridgar could follow the same path as him. They could proselytize, but not to any religion. Proselytization to knowledge was the key factor here. Bringing people from the ways of brutality to the ways of understanding. He wanted that.

"You'd be a great Jackal," the mage concurred, kissing him softly. "Ganren puts shame to the word 'hardass'. I can understand why he acts the way he does, but... he, too, has known nothing but brutality all of his many lives. You've known a lot more than that - love, compassion, regret. I'd love to see you up there as the Jackal. You'll be great, my husband," he stated, kissing him softly on the lips.

Shortly after, he was picked up and carried down the hall, flailing about teasingly as his lover manhandled him. Fucking Fridgar, he whispered quietly, offering the man a coy expression if he caught onto his words.

After the brief ceremony, they were given to the Vindikar. The Jegers present started to party, setting up wooden tables, drinking and eating. Apparently there were still some festivities, just not quite as expansive as Warden initiations. He didn't mind - this was the right level of playfulness for him. They were surrounded by trees and grass, the environment apparently a simulated forest. In the corners of the room, musicians played on lutes and sung rowdy songs.

During this time, he was introduced to Halden, who had an aggressive look and an even angrier tone. He seemed to be utterly insulting Fridgar... and Alistair. The mage didn't really give a damn, though. He eyed him nonchalantly and paid almost no outward attention to his words, checking his fingernails for dirt and staring at the musicians as the Dire and his mate went on.

Welcome to the Vindikar, Pups, the man said. Alistair shook his head.

"Hounds," he corrected him. Finally, as if he'd lost his self control, one word followed into many others.

"Halden, why don't you duel me?" he asked in Haltunga, raising a brow. "You seem to look down on humans, but I'm willing to bet you wouldn't dare fight me. You probably know I'd blast your ass, and not in the way you liked when you were younger. Maybe you even suspect that if we fight, the Vindikar will need a new Dire in place?" he questioned. It wasn't really a threat, but - it also was, at the same time. There was no way this aging shitbag would be able to beat Alistair, he knew that. He doubted anyone here would have been able to, as cocky as that was. Maybe Ganren.

[Varthakh]

Alistair agreed with him, forcing a smile to curl across the Lothar's cheeks. His perfect Kindal, always so willing to listen to him, put his faith in him, fill him with confidence. It was so nice to have the human appreciate him like that, to have anyone appreciate him like that. If Fridgar could change, then he was living proof that the rest of the Lotharen could too. Alistair shared with him his new resolve, together they would change the horde and impart some empathy on them.

Even if Alistair didn't get the whole message, he got the important parts. Alistair then went on to explain his new-found immortal. Ralaith, who he'd not heard of, immortal of bears. "I only know the ones you've told me about, my rose," Fridgar reminded with a warm smile. But Alistair had plans for this immortal, he would use the wisdom imparted to him from Ralaith to enlighten the horde. Already, Alistair had a plan. He loved that about the human, he was always prepared, always ready for anything. But then... Alistair's words clicked in his head. "Wait wait wait," Fridgar put his hand out, signalling for the noble to stop. "Did you say the immortal of bears?" Fridgar's eyes widened with the last word to pass his lips. "Gods! Why didn't anyone tell me there was a bear immortal?! Why haven't they come to find me yet! I'm the most bear of all the mortals combined!" Fridgar was vibrating, suddenly filled with wild energy.

Soon after that discussion passed though, Alistair expressed more faith in him. He said that Fridgar would make a great Jackal, that they needed someone like him in such a position. Fridgar blushed, looking away with a warm smile on his face. Alistair well and truly believed he could do it, he really had so much faith in Fridgar. It was adorable so nice, fulfilling, adorable. "You make me so happy, my rose," he spoke before kissing Alistair once more and carrying him into the hall.

There, he met with Halden for the first time. Things didn't seem to go as planned, Halden was being a dick and Alistair didn't much appreciate it. As Halden pushed through them and insulted their rank, Alistair corrected him. Fridgar looked to the human confused, was he really going to start an argument here? No, he was going to duel Halden. Fridgar remained quiet, looking between the two as Halden froze. Royand also looked, but didn't speak a word against the two. All attention was on them. Halden laughed, his torso quaking at the rapid intake and expulsion of air. "Big strong young pup, you wanna beat down on an old man?" he snickered.

Halden then turned to face the human a glint in his eye. Fridgar hadn't seen Halden laugh, but he had seen him take down a Solghannon with just his two Beryllium-Terrendyte daggers easily. "Now I know why you've made such a name for yourself, human. You pick your battles wisely!" he jeered, calling Alistair a coward. Fridgar turned his whole body around, looking to the older Lothar, seeking eye contact. Halden looked to Royand, who was shaking his head with his arms crossed. The sly smile he wore soon faded, warping into fear as he realised that Royand wasn't on his side. "You expect me to take down this shadow-dancing sorcerer?!" Halden asked, the panic obvious in his tone.

"If you're going to talk like that to your own pack, you better be willing to put your nel where your mouth is," Royand spoke, showing both his palms. "Who knows, maybe you'll win? If not, we can at least hope you'll come back with some backbone. You are reborn, unlike that 'bred Lothar' you just mocked," Royand continued to pick apart the older, exposed Lotharro. Fridgar was stood there with the leather bag in his clenched paw, still lingering on the fact that the damned Halden had gone and mocked his Kindal.

Halden would scoff, his skin red. "F-fine! I'll show you some discipline, mewling mutt!" Halden snarled, drawing his two daggers from his belt. They were both masterwork Terrendyte with a beryllium emerald edge. With that sort of weight and sharpness, he expected to cut the noble to shreds. "You accept this challenge, Halden?" Royand asked, somewhat amused. "Yeah!" Halden confirmed, glaring down the human and assuming his fighting stance. "Very well, the conditions for this duel are to the death. On my mark..."

Halden paused, looking to Royand with shock. "To the death!? You want us to kill each other?!" Halden pleaded, terrified. Royand would sigh, halting his count-down before it had even begun "When was the last time you killed a monster, Halden? That Solghannon, right? And before that was before the cold cycle. I have no time for assholes, sloths and weaklings. If you die, I've lost next to nothing, if you live, then you were right to insult the human and his havendal. Now, on my mark..." Royand was right, Halden would be more useful in the next twenty arcs as a reborn than he was now and he'd pushed his luck way too far.

Having dealt with Fridgar and Alistair prior to this had left a foul taste in his mouth, too. He hadn't the patience for this failure. Halden straightened his gaze to the human, lowering his position as he readied to duel. "Three..." Royand spoke, his voice the only one in the room. "Two..." He was going at it slowly, at least two other trills between each marking count. "One..." Halden began to shake, his jaw vibrating as though he were cold.

"Fight."

[Alistair]

The mage laughed as his husband spoke of his affinity for bears, quite literally claiming to be more bear than all mortals combined. Funny enough, that was probably true, which only made it more funny. Alistair was quite embarrassingly cupping his face laughing, his cheeks red from the quirky energy of his lover. He really did love Fridgar, and each and every little thing he said.

"Yeah!" he exclaimed. "You should follow him with me. I can emphasize the time and wisdom aspects, and you... can emphasize the greatness of bears!" Alistair laughed, again. It almost sounded condescending when he put it like that, but - as he'd learned from Fridgar, the bear was a valuable animal. And a cuddly one. There was a reason he had a master-forged longsword called "Bear Whisperer"!

As Fridgar stated the happiness Alistair brought him, the mage blushed, responding in kind.

"You make me so happy, my Thorn," he nodded, smiling brightly. "Never forget the impact you've had on me. If you can show even a sliver of the wonder you've shown me to these men, you'll be Jackal before long," the mage whispered, lacing his fingers in Fridgar's as his mate took his lips by storm.

. . .

Later on, the challenge had been issued, and Halden laughed at it. At first he thought he was laughing as a method of denouncing the human, but apparently it was merely to denounce himself. Big strong pup, you wanna beat down an old man? he asked. Alistair's lips curved into a smirk. "That's Hound, again. And it's funny that you'll insult me for being a human as if I'm such weak filth yet you won't fight me just because you're old. A young human versus an old Lotharro. Sounds like an even playing field to me," he whispered, grinning.

Royand seemed to agree with Alistair. He too wasn't fond of shit-talkers who had nothing but their arrogance behind him. This was not Halden's lucky trial.

Nevertheless, Royand's agreement was enough to force him to accept. The man reluctantly obliged, his voice on the verge of shaking and stuttering even as he yelled yeah to offer himself some false pretense of confidence. He wasn't confident, not at all. Regardless of the wealth of those daggers, he wasn't ready either.

He was surprised that Royand wanted it to be a battle to the death, though. Alistair wouldn't finish the man - that was just cruel. He was old and cocky, nothing more. This battle was instead to be a source of humility. As Royand counted down, Alistair held out his spear before him, pointing upwards vertically. He prayed to Ralaith then, and swore his honor on the incoming battle on that of House Venora, and those he lost within it. Though he was a Calder now, he remembered where he came from. The legacy he'd represented. He couldn't lose.

Fight! Royand yelled, and the surrounding Lothar began to cheer and laugh. Alistair did not want to make a show of this, however. Immediately, he began to twirl his spear rapidly, splintering Halden's daggers as the man laid mesmerized by the turbine-like rotation the Shadowdancer had begun. Halden struck forward, attempting to throw his dagger through a gap in the man's spin, believing his timing to be precise despite the absurdly small increment.

The dagger splintered, only the hilt hit Alistair's spear, and the mage immediately danced forward in a counter-attack. He swept his spear rapidly, utilizing the momentum of the spin to slice through Halden's thigh muscles, before nigh-instantaneously throwing his spear back and knocking him hard against the chest. The motions threw him onto the floor, followed by a front-flip by Alistair, his body rotating midair before his boots landed hard against Halden's chest.

The man was down. Would've been a lot sooner, but the mage had decided that he would only strike him non-lethally.

The Lotharro stared, mouths agape, though after a short few trills they began to laugh at Halden's humiliating defeat.

"Demooolished!" they yelled. "Fucking weakling," more cried out.

Alistair smiled faintly, head turning to search for Fridgar with his eyes. He forgot the man was so close to him, and without any time, the mage fell into his arms. "I hope I did good, my love. That guy's an ass," he stated, in Common. "Vindikar. With that guy. That'll be fun," the noble rolled his eyes, sighing as his head pressed into the side of his mate's chest.

[Varthakh]

Totrial was already a roller coaster of emotion and it wasn't even noon. He shared such joy with Alistair, relishing in their time together. But with Royand, there was bitterness and now with Halden, hatred. Whatever had happened to the grumpy old git, it changed him. He wasn't the man that had called Fridgar his friend or given him an expensive axe just for being his friend. No, he was a cunt, right down to the core. He wore the title well, even as he tried to rally others to his cause. Instead of aiding the old man however, Royand only chastised him.

Fridgar couldn't believe half the words that came out of his mouth, Royand was a savage. Not only that, but he even sentenced the older Lothar to death… by duel of course, but to death all the same. There was no way this Lothar could beat Alistair, everyone knew it. Even Halden knew it, but he accepted the duel regardless. Fridgar could only imagine the older Lothar's fear, all his arcs of loyal service only to be cast to the dirt? By the sounds of things, Halden was more of a burden in every aspect, rarely slaying monsters and costing hounds their limbs by his own stupidity and arrogance.

The man was a blatant failure and his time of reckoning had come. They weren't pups any more, which Alistair reminded the older male. Alas, despite the amount of fun Fridgar had in watching the older Lothar panic and redden, nearing tears, Royand counted down. In what felt like no time at all, Royand declared that they fight. Alistair twirled his spear, spinning so rapidly that Fridgar thought he'd take off from the ground for a trill. Royand threw his dagger forward, revealing only that Alistair had splintered his weapons.

The handle of the blade was knocked aside, giving Alistair all the opening he needed. He cut the older Lothar's thigh, enticing a grunt of pain from the old man. Then, as quick as a flash, Halden was on the ground with Alistair's boot on his chest and his spear pointed down at him. Just like that, the great Halden was beaten. Silence filled the room for a trill, followed by an uproar of laughter and jeering at the fallen Lothar. Fridgar shook his head, rolling his eyes. Soon enough the human returned to his arms, "You did amazing, my beloved. He got what he deserved," Fridgar nodded, grinning at the puddle of Halden as Royand approached, picked him up and took him aside. Muffled shouting could be heard, apparently displeased.

It was dishonourable to be spared in a duel to the death, Halden shouldn't technically be alive, only by Alistair's mercy had he survived. Fridgar imagined that monsters would show the old Lothar no such mercy. Most of the shouting was drowned out by the Lothar's cheers for Alistair. Fridgar kissed his beloved, a long and hard kiss on the skin of his neck, holding on to the smaller man with all his love and care as he lifted him from the ground. "We'll whip it into shape, I'm sure. For now, let’s go home. We'll come back later for the dance of the graces, my rose." Only, the Lothar had no idea what he would be returning home to.

[Alistair]

The Lotharro survived, albeit shamed. He would surely direct his ire to Alistair at a later point, though the mage didn't really care, as it was clear who the superior combatant was. The noble decided that maybe he would challenge more than just Halden. It seemed like there were a large number of men in the Jegers who viewed him as weakly for being a human, likely due to their lack of exposure to the great fighters of the Northern Realms. The rush he'd acquired from beating down Halden had spoken for itself - all of the Jegers who talked to him as if he were lower for being a human were next. And there were a fair bit of them.

Regardless, Royand came to Alistair as several men took Halden to be treated. The Packmaster sighed, though he rose his head to congratulate the noble for his victory, with a smile.

"Good one, Hound," he called him. "Just so you know, I didn't want you to actually kill him. I winked at you, but I don't think you saw it. You're a hardcore guy, Alistair. I never expected you to be so... ruthless, and lethal. You could've killed him on the first strike, I saw it. That was insane," the Packmaster stated, complimenting him. Alistair merely nodded as he pressed into Fridgar.

"Either way, welcome to the Hounds, you too. When you become Dire, you should join my Dire pack. I'd love to have you." The Packmaster left them after saying as much, with Alistair looking up to his husband. He didn't like Royand after he'd relayed the message from the Horde, but that wasn't his fault. Alistair would need to convince him of this - Roy had always been good to them.

"My love, let's go home," he concurred. "I want to see how Finn's doing, and I have a... session scheduled for, basically right now. A bunch of kids wanting to learn about medicine," the mage nodded. It was time to go.