Where Only Mad Men Go

The capital city of the of Rynmere, here is seated the only King in Idalos.
Malcolm
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Malcolm sat absolutely gobsmacked by the young man. Did he think he was being helpful, or just funny? His mouth made a hard line, not quite a frown, but as his brow knotted, the warden’s disapproval was evident.
Avari, sensing the man’s anguish, wiped her mouth and sat holding her empty stew bowl in both hands. “You have the right man,” she told Aeon, “newly appointed Warden of Rynmere.”
“North,” Malcolm corrected her, “I was appointed Warden of the North, Gawyne and Krome are regions,” he explained, it seemed there were those among them who didn't quite know how this all worked, or even what the campaign was about. “Sergeant, I think you're mistaken, I wasn't giving you an option, I was giving you an order. Eat, and tell me about the beast, by the time we have returned to the city, your cautionary tale will have been no good to anyone. Perhaps you don't understand what leadership means, part of accepting the role of warden is staying informed so that I am able to make the best decision before we run into trouble. I don't know if you've ever had to take a young man home to his family and justify why you weren't able to return him safely, why he died on your watch while you still breathe, having endured the same dangers.”
Malcolm thought of Simon then, the only knight who had ever lost his life in Malcolm’s care. He thought of the young man’s family, potential, and friends, many of which still marched with him today. “I know what you're thinking, lad, that you're sitting across from an ambitious old fool who married into a wealthy noble family for leg up. But believe me, if you want to compare breaks, trials, and arcs, or perhaps even scars, I have a lifetime on yours, and unlike you, I have just over one hundred men and women in my care who all want to get home in one piece. So the next time I ask you a question, you best bloody well answer, or you'll be on the next horse home.”
Godric and Avari shared a quiet glance and cast their eyes down at their feet. They had travelled with Malcolm all summer, and this was the first time he had made either of them feel uncomfortable in his presence, whether or not he had a point. It unnerved the woman especially, she knew how frightening the man could be, even while he spoke in that deep, but calm tone of voice.
“As for you two,” Malcolm cast his eye on Kylar and Atashi. “We march towards the Burning Mountains to face what could be as many as four thousand leaderless rebels. They have been hiding in those mountains for the best part of the season now after fleeing their failed attempt at civil war in Saun. They will be hungry, divided, and cold. Up there their numbers don't concern me, but the beast does, the same one who took his arm” Malcolm gestured at Aeon, “I've only heard rumours, but if the beast really is an individual cursed by one of immortals, the more prepared we are now, the better chance you all have of getting home in one piece.”
Last edited by Malcolm on Tue Oct 08, 2019 8:47 pm, edited 1 time in total. word count: 559
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Kylar
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"He's a Warrick lion, common around these parts - hence the name and the house's Sigil" Kylar explained. He was sure that some people knew that, but he wanted to make it openly known.
"Hunter was trained since he was a cub, and he's now about 4 Arcs old. Still reasonably young, to be fair, but good for the hunt. Cost me eight hundred gold nels, mind you" he said finally. Having a lion for a mount was strange, but as a hunter himself he found it only fitting. It was best to put yourself as an equal with the animals, if not below them. After all, it was their habitat.

Then he fell silent as Malcolm spoke. Malcolm didn't take well to being disobeyed, and so it should be. But the air fell cold around Kylar. Teamwork was key, he learnt that much, and if this caused issues in that then it would be far from ideal. But he listened sharply, taking in every word. The beast, or so it was called, took the man's arm. What beast was this? It couldn't be something as simple as a Volareon or a Jacadon, surely? This man was a skyrider, and seemed to be a well respected one at that. It sent a shiver down his spine that someone above him seemed to fear this beast so much. Although Malcolm didn't show it, he was almost certain he feared it as well. But that wasn't his place, so he kept that thought to himself.

Kylar and Atashi were then addressed. "This beast, as you call it, sir. With all due respect, sir, if it is cursed by the immortals - what chance do we stand?" Kylar asked uncomfortably. He had hunted things, and seen creatures of power that he wished to contain. Even Volareon were powerful creatures. But someone cursed by the Immortals and made in to the beast. It sounded like this individual was dangerous before the curse, to anger Immortals. "I'll fight it, and I'll die against it if duty calls for me to do so. But can we kill it?" he asked in a serious tone. The realization dawned on him. If this legend was true, he may never see Crimson again. He might not live to see another day after seeing the beast. With that, he silently prayed to Karem for protection.
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Sintih
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"Hey Jaks. Jaks? Where is that kid?" Heran looked around their little area for whoever was named Jaks. "You sent him to Wrein, remember?" One of the men that Sin didn't know responded to Heran searching their tent. He dropped the matter after that. Sitting himself back down, Heran motioned for Sin to take a seat around the fire as well. Before he could decline, a bowl was pushed into his hands, the steam coming off of it in white strips. "Where did they position you?" Heran wasn't known for his subtlety but for his directness. He had no interest in beating around the bush, never had. "I'm with the squires. Got a tent and a horse and everything." Sin nodded his head in the general direction of where he'd walked in from.

The squires were trainee knights who hadn't been picked up by a singular knight to train them. They enjoyed everything the Iron Hand had to offer and trained in larger classes together but weren't suitable enough yet to be picked out by knight. In expeditions like these they were mostly used for driving supply wagons, looking after horses and equipment cooking and helping other squires with setting up tents. They were the work force of the army. "So they still haven't figured it out then?" Heran shook his head as he poured himself some more of the food in his bowl. "The squires. What a waste." Sin shrugged. It was alright, he had plenty of time to soak in the experience of war from the supply train, baby steps.

A young man walked up to the group, the white on his tabard clearly indicating him as a squire. He nodded to Heran and sat himself down with the group. "Jaks, Sintih. Sintih, Jaks." Heran introduced the two to each other and Sin nodded at the other squire. He could tell quite quickly that Jaks had a future as a poster boy knight. Heavily built like the other men around the fire, a look of superiority on his face and an obvious dislike for Sintih before they had even shared a single word with each other. Great. "How about you, Heran? Where did they decide to put an old man like you?" Sintih grinned over his food before taking a bite. Sin could tell that, while Heran had no problem with his tease, the others around the fire didn't seem to agree.

"Officially, we're on the left flank with Whitelock." Officially always meant there was an unofficially as well. Sin knew Heran knew this so he simply waited for the large man to finish his bite and continue talking. "Unofficially, we're roamers, a volunteer unit. Go where there's need for us." Sin nodded, understandingly. Roamers were barely accepted as being better than mercenaries. They weren't part of the Warden's retinue and the noble knights usually looked down on them for being 'masterless'. Obviously, Heran couldn't care less what these people thought but Sintih understood that by being here, he might draw the attention of these noble knights as well. He went back to eating.

From his left, one of the men he didn't knew grumbled over his food. "Stupid flags. Can't they understand that these hands are meant for wielding weapons, not twirling flags like a jester?" The man held out a dirty, calloused hand towards the fire for everyone to see. Sin raised an eyebrow in Heran's direction, asking silently for an explanation. "They decided Aker here was the smartest of the bunch and gave him the flag course. He's supposed to communicate with other groups using them. He's had a headache ever since." Heran burst out in his signature laugh as Aker grumbled back into his food. They continued to eat in silence for a few bits until Heran suddenly looked up from his bowl. "Actually..." He put his bowl aside and stood up. "Don't go anywhere." Heran disappeared into the bustle of the encampment. Sin looked around for an explanation but it seemed like the entire group was doing the same.

"The little Jacadon, huh? Why'd he call you that?" One of the men said. Sin blushed as the nickname was brought up, turning his frozen blue cheeks into a sort of cold purple. "I claimed it as my title when I was younger, alright. It was stupid." There was a moment of silence before the man who'd asked the question suddenly burst out laughing, followed by the rest of the group. Sin sat there, staring into his bowl of food, blushing. Why had he ever picked that name? To avoid the subject, Sin turned to Aker. "So, these flags of yours, how do they work?" Aker scratched his head for a moment, thinking, or possibly trying to remember before he began explaining how different colors, shapes and numbers of flags combined relayed messages from the main camp to the various units who each had someone who could read them and make sure their unit followed orders.

Sin listened carefully, quickly understanding the concept. Whoever had invented it wasn't as stupid as most other Iron Hand members. It remained to see if the flags would be useful in the midst of battle once the chaos started but Sin was curious to learn more about it. Halfway through Aker's slow explanation, Heran suddenly popped back up. "There we go, all set. Stop whatever you're doing." All eyes turned to Heran as he sat back down. "For the remainder of this campaign, Sintih, you're assigned to the Dreim unit as a squire and flagman. So Aker, you do your best to teach this kid what you managed to remember." There was a sudden barrage of hands on his shoulders and welcomes from left and right as Sin was greeted into their little group. Nobody dared mention to Heran that he had just told Sin to stop learning the flags so he could start learning the flags. Heran toasted him with his bowl of food. "Once you've finished your meal, we'll fetch your horse and tent and you can set up here with us."

"Now that you're part of the group, you better get to know who you'll be fielding with." Heran pointed to the other squire in the group and to Aker. "Jaks and Aker you know. Dimitri and Filip both served under your father. And these are Edward and Max. They joined later but they're good knights. All of them." Heran looked around his little circle, his unit, nobodies in this large collection of men and women all fighting for the warden but the most important people on the battlefield to each other.
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Atashi
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Atashi watched as the sky-rider refused the demands of the Man in plate mail, not only that, but refused the stew plate-mail-guy had gotten for him! Just who was this sky-rider, perhaps just a higher rank than plate-mail-guy? It became apparent that wasn't the case when tensions started to rise and plate-mail guy identified himself as 'Warden of the North'. Atashi wasn't entirely sure what that meant, but assumed it was a higher rank than the sky-rider 'Sergeant' that he freely talked down to. At least now he had something else to call the man in plate mail now, 'Warden'. The warden did have a good point however, it was revealed that there was a possibility of running into the beast that took the sky-rider's hand, and as the apparent leader, the Warden would want as many details as possible.
Atashi did not fear animals, he felt as though the two men were making a mountain of a molehill with this discussion. But the four-thousand rebels? Now the that scared him, they were but a hundred maybe? How on earth were they expected to fight off four thousand men, starving or not? If each of them picked up a handful of sand and threw it at our forces, they'd be able to bury all one hundred of us several feet under the surface. To make matters worse, it was revealed that the previously mentioned animal was no ordinary animal. It was once a two-legger, blessed or cursed by the immortals to turn it into this monstrosity.
Kylar then replied, not the sort of reply he was expecting from the hardy Lotharro either. Did he detect pessimism in his tone? No, not kylar surely. He even went on to say about how he would die fighting this thing if needs be. Atashi, being the optimist he is, wanted to say something that would lighten the mood, but was unsure of what good it would do "Does the beast bleed? he extended his voice to the sky-rider. "Anything that bleeds can surely be killed..." He continued in a more serious tone than he had entered this camp with. He sat in his thoughts for a moment, how would any of them make it out alive? He could feel his temper stirring and felt obligated to add "And if it doesn't bleed, then what on Idalos are we wasting our efforts for? No, our blood!?" He snapped, slamming his clenched fists into the table and rising up on his tail, he leaned over said table, baring his teeth as he did so.
Suddenly realising that he had failed to keep his nerves under control, he withdrew immediately, lowering himself to the seated height once more. He stayed there with an apologetic, sheepish look about him and waited, anticipating a telling-off.
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Aeon
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Apparently Malcolm hadn't exactly understood Aeon either. The young skyrider told what the leader needed to know, but alas, he was asked, well, ordered to speak about the monster even more. Just thinking about it made the young man cold from fear. The young sergeant needed to fight his fears, that was for sure, especially if he ever saw the beast again, but in a camp like this one, it was normal to be afraid. Any sane man would be running for his life when he encountered the monster.

"With all due respect Warden, I told you what you needed to know to make the right decision. If you want tales, so be it. The beast, it has two heads, and both of them spit fire. It appears to be a hound, only nearing a Jacadon's size, with a volareon's agility, and a leopard's speed. It destroys buildings like they're not even there, and doesn't seem to be affected by anything a mortal can come up with. I shot it several times, through the eye, the head, the neck, the body, and the arrows didn't seem to affect it. It healed before any drop of blood could come out of it. You are the leader here, but I'm the one that faced this monster, and if you want any useful advice from me, it would be to order all of your soldiers to retreat the trill we spot the beast. Because if you do not, there will have to be a man going around explaining to one hundred and more families why their members died. That includes Elyna Burhan. " He answered the question about the beast bleeding, as well as the warden's orders in one go, hoping that this amount of information would soothe the older man's curiosity. Hopefully Malcolm could actually realize that the beast was not something to be trifled with, or even something that they could fight. They stood no chance against it, seeing how it ate through several hundred rebels, knights, and civilians without much issue back at the siege of Andaris.

"Lord Warden, I would never take a man like yourself for a fool, I know better than to do that, but you can have all the experience and leadership you'd like, and you're still going to die like the rest of us if we engage the beast. " The young skyrider's face was not showing signs of fear, not from Malcolm, even though Aeon had to admit that the warden had a frightening stature. He had seen things much more scary than the man standing above him. In truth, if they came into contact with the monster on their trip, the young sergeant would've been responsible for all of them as much as the warden, since it was his fault that the beast was still out there.

"You can pull all the sad stories you like on me, but I have seen death and pain on the battlefield, and sadness and anger on the faces of those whose loved ones died where I lived. How many of them Warden? How many have you lost? Because I have lost more than I can count because of this beast, and I don't plan on losing more." The skyrider would simply leave it there, and finally decide to grab the now nearly cold bowl of stew with his one hand, as he put it neatly over his left elbow, making eating from it possible once again. Having no left hand really did cause trouble sometimes. No matter how ignorant the Krome might have been, or how arrogant, he was a good leader, from what Aeon heard, and he knew for certain that he was a good fighter, probably the best one in this very camp, so getting in a serious fight with him would not be wise.
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Rafael Warrick
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DATE
Rafael laughed at the lion owner's kind suggestion not to go visit the fearsome animal without supervision. "I don't have a deathwish, don't worry." He paused for a moment before continuing, "that's why I'm in the military of course." More than a little amused at his obvious sarcasm Rafael granted those present a little time to let his words sink in until Malcom directed a question at him about the tent.

Rafael looked up from his bowl, worth a cheeky smile al plastered to his face, "Let me guess...the big one? Or is that Knight Coats' tent?" A pensive look crossed his face before he shrugged and returned to eating. But no sooner than he'd scooped up another spoonful of soup none other than Aeon the reckless came into view. Rafael nearly choked on his food in surprise. This was not the baby-faced, happy-go-lucky Aeon he remembered... This was a hardened knight with rough features and plenty scars to showcase his experience. Or was it incompetence? Rafael eyes slid over to Aeon's stump in his left arm and the dark eye-patch, but before he could ask what misfortune had befallen the young sergeant, Aeon earned himself Malcolm's ire by refusing to eat.

The newly appointed Warden of the North didn't seem to take kindly to disobedience and the mild scolding that followed would have been unsurprising if not for the collected, intimidating time in which it was delivered. Rafael, for one, was glad to not be on the receiving end. But it wasn't until the conversation devolved into horror stories about some monstrous beast that Rafael's good mood evaporated. If Aeon was to be believed, and he had no reason to doubt the sergeant, then the odds were stacked even further against them than he'd already thought.

Despite the polite phrasing of his words, Rafael knew Aeon was only digging a deeper hole for himself by continuing to challenge Malcolm's authority, and so he rose from the table to stand between the reckless Sergeant and the cool-blooded Warden. "Ser Malcolm," he deemed it wise to adress the Warden formally in front of his troops, "I've had the pleasure of meeting Aeon before. He is a good, hard-working man with a noble heart, and I'm sure he meant no disrespect." He shot a telling gaze at Aeon, hinting the cripple Knight to refrain from opening his mouth again.
Last edited by Rafael Warrick on Thu Nov 24, 2016 5:30 am, edited 1 time in total. word count: 420
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Malcolm
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Aeon, as a human being, absolutely baffled the mortalborn, and as a knight, or the skyriding equivalent, made even less sense. Malcolm had stopped eating, as if put off his meal by the very sound of Aeon’s voice, sure he had been quite clear. The warden stood up, a lot taller on his feet than he had been sat against the log, and looked about to find Benjamin nearby. “Captain,” the warden summoned the man, and Benjamin abandoned his stew with haste to weave his way through the different groups and come to stand near Malcolm.
“Ser,” the fair-haired knight answered.
Malcolm took paused to listen to Rafael, folding his arms behind his back. “No, Lord Warrick, I think the young ser meant every word he said,” Malcolm closed a hand over the hilt of his blade, the other held with a thumb tucked in over his leather belt. Malcolm might have been able to forgive Aeon if he had stopped before mentioning the name Elyna, but being the deeply private man that he was, using the thought of his wife against him was unacceptable.
“However,” Malcolm continued, “as he believes I am currently marching you all to your graves under my misguided leadership, and quite obvious lack of experience, I can only come to the conclusion that he seeks to be nothing more than a spectator. You did suggest, did you not, ser Aeon, that I should order all of my knights to retreat, lest we run into the beast and succumb to the same fate as your cold and buried comrades?”
Benjamin pressed his lips together and lifted his jaw. He hadn't been privy to the conversation, but he knew Malcolm wasn't one to make a scene unless a harsh example was to follow. “Warden,” he said to remind Malcolm that he was waiting.
Malcolm gestured to Aeon with a lazy turn of his hand before it settled against his belt once more. “I want his wings, and following that, you can see him to his horse, along with the half-man, and send them home.”
“Accompanied, ser?”
“By the skyrider, Emily.”
“Right away, ser Krome.” Benjamin approached Aeon then and pat the man down, discovering the wings in the man’s pocket. The captain, who looked to be in his mid to late thirties, gave Aeon a smug look and stepped aside. “After you, lad,” Benjamin turned his eye in Atashi then and waved for him to follow.
“As for the rest of you,” the warden raised his voice to address the dinner crowd. “My name is Ser Malcolm Krome, Warden of Northern Rynmere. We are marching into those hills to find and arrest the remaining nobles and leaders of the Rebel Army that destroyed lowtown in Saun. I have trained hard with most of you since mid Vhalar, you know our task, and what I expect of you, but to make myself perfectly clear, I will not tolerate insubordination, nor will I humour cynicism. If you don't believe in our cause or count yourself among the one hundred trained and battle-ready knights assigned to see this task through to completion, go home.”
Malcolm made his way from the dining area then, Godric and Avari following close behind. He would count his losses in the morning, but it seemed for now that most of knights were content to return to their meals and go about their night after a moment of awkward silence. “That was a little rough, don't you think?” Avari suggested. “You'll knock the wind out of them before they get to the hard part.”
“The hard part being?” Godric chimed in.
Avari pointed off into the distance with a glance. “Climbing that mountain.”
“Fear not,” Malcolm said, wearing a stern look as he made his way towards the small, four-man tent he had set up, “perhaps my sad stories will inspire them.”
Avari covered her mouth in a failed attempt not to laugh, and Godric merely shook his head, and tried not to let his silent amusement twist his facial features.

Note: I'll give you all a day or two to get a reply down before I submit this for review, and put up the second part of the journey in a new thread for any who wish to continue. Aeon if you want to kick up against Ben, his stats can be found in Rynmere’s NPC list. Also Aeon should consider himself dismissed from active duty. If he wants to challenge this and return to work as a Skyrider, he can have his commander (captain) write to Malcolm to request reinstatement.
Last edited by Malcolm on Tue Oct 08, 2019 8:47 pm, edited 2 times in total. word count: 779
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Kylar
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To say Kylar was caught off guard was an understatement. He didn't know why, the fact the two had been sent home was far from a surprise. This was the military, and rank was everything. Malcolm was in charge. If he wanted to order this entire army to jump off the cliff instead of fight the beast he had all the power to do so. Besides, Malcolm had worked his way here, that much was clear from how he spoke. He wasn't in a position to be argued with, he dealt all the cards. Kylar turned to Atashi and nodded his head to say goodbye, with a look of apology in his eye. Dread spread across Kylar's face and body. He was alone among many. The one person he knew personally, the one he thought would be there to save him, was gone. Isolating lingered over him. If he died out here, he died with no familiar faces around him.

But he wouldn't be stopped. If he would die alone, he wouldn't die. He had no intention of backing down, not now or ever. He had a point to prove, low ranking skyrider or not. He had to show everyone that he could, and would, do it. Because when he told his wife he was going away to hunt bandits, she looked at him with pride. He couldn't let go of that and return home with nothing. If not for himself, then for Crimson, and for all the civilians they would save on this journey.
A while after Malcolm left, Kylar broke the silence. "My offer still stands, I'll be by my tent if you want to come see Hunter. I'm sure he'll love the attention."
In truth, he hoped someone would join him. Right now, he needed a friend. But if they didn't, he could handle it. He traveled alone for years, he could travel for a while now. If this experience had taught him one thing, it was that the life he was getting himself in to was harder than he had ever thought it could be. If he was ready for that or not, only time would tell. But he signed up for it, and he wasn't backing down. He'd sooner die.

With that thought fresh in his mind, Kylar got up and walked out as quickly as he could - taking his leftover stew with him. It was enough to last Hunter for now, until he could find a more sustainable food source.
When he arrived at the tent, he lowered the bowl to the lion and brushed his hand through the lion's mane. "Eat up, Hunter. We have a long journey ahead of us" he said. Once the lion had eaten, Kylar would rest against him as he slept, stroking him gently. It calmed his nerves, if anything. If others joined him, he would introduce them - certain that Hunter would warm up quickly.
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Aeon
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The young man watched his commander play a show in front of everyone's eyes, watched without a blink, or without any sign of fear or regret in his eyes or face. Without any words escaping his mouth, he observed the overemotional old man strip him of his title. Aeon knew there was nothing he could do, and even if he fought for what he had, no matter how good the fight went, it wouldn't restore his wings. The wings themselves, they were worth less than a single copper to the skyrider, but the mission and oath that stood behind them, that was something no man could take away from the blond kid.

As heated up as Aeon might've been about mentioning the beast, he was just as cold as he turned his back on all the men that sat around Malcolm, as well as the Warden, and as he calmly put the bowl back. The warden let his emotions control him, and let the simplest of words the blond man said affect him. The boy could only hope Malcolm would do the right thing and listen to his advice. He had experience, and he was a good leader, but he did not know the beast. He did not know its strength, and Aeon only wished for him not to learn it the same way he did, by losing hundreds of men and women to it.

A sudden sense of calmness went through his blood, as he started realizing what had just happened, while he waited for his escort. Perhaps the Warden feared that the boy was going to want to go into the mountains himself, and that was why he ordered a skyrider to escort him back to the city, perhaps not, but having an escort was definitely not what Aeon needed.

He could see the half-man slither right next to him, and where any man would begin a conversation, as they both had just been expelled form the campaign, but it wasn't what Aeon needed. He needed to be alone, just to give in to his brain, to his endless train of thoughts, and to let go of what was bothering him. What was bothering him, even? Was it the fact he could not call himself skyrider anymore, or the fact that he wouldn't get the chance to kill the rebels? Or just the fear for the men that would follow Malcolm into a fight with the beast? Perhaps all of those things.

The not-anymore-skyrider got onto the rented white horse, as he noticed a dark-haired, and tanned woman readying a black mustang a couple of feet away. Their escort, surely? Aeon had noticed Malcolm left, most likely to his tent, so there was no point in talking any louder than what was necessary for the woman to hear the blond boy's words. And they were going to be meaningful ones, on the level of the oath he swore before the king.

"You know, King Cassander put those wings on my chest, and you can tell your warden I'll be expecting new and shinier ones once all of this is over." The young man said, as he kicked the creature underneath him on the side lightly, and it moved straight into a gallop. The night was still young, and many things could be done in a young night. Aeon wasn't planning on wasting any more time on arguing, or on waiting for escorts to take him back to the city before he moved out of it. Not many men seemed to be bothered by the gallop of the white horse throughout the camp, but those that were, were simply too unable to do anything about it. For all the boy cared, the warden could send a search party with orders to kill, and not even that would stop him from getting to his destination.
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Sorry it took me so long to post this, t'was really tough
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Wealth Tier: Tier 1

Where Only Mad Men Go

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Rewards for All!

Malcolm


Story: 5/5
Collaboration: 5/ 5
Structure: 5 /5

Knowledge:
Detection: Spotting small details in the camp
Tactics: Positioning your troops
Logistics: Leading large groups
Logistics: Use of flagman to organise large numbers.
Logistics: Organising the night shift
Leadership: Moving among your troops boosts morale
Leadership: Stating your case clearly
Leadership: Treading the fine line between civilian and military leader
Leadership: Delegation.
Leadership: Differentiating between options and orders
Leadership: Sometimes, you have to make the tough decisions
Etiquette: Military Etiquette: Orders
Etiquette: Military Etiquette: Responsibilities of Command
Etiquette: Military Etiquette: Removing someone's rank.
Aeon: Blunt
Aeon: Lacking military etiquette
Aeon: Disobeyed direct orders. Twice
Aeon: Wouldn't drop it.
Aeon: Brought Elyna into it
Kylar: Has a Warrick Lion
Kylar: Is friends with Atashi
Kylar: Lion called Hunter
Kylar: Lotharro
Atashi: Ithecal
Atashi: That's a big hammer and shield
Atashi: Seems a bit clueless

Loot: NA
Fame:+1 (giving Aeon stew), +2 upholding military (therefore city) law
Magic: These points MAY may NOT be used for arcana

Story Malcolm at work! A really fascinating read and an excellent story. I loved how Malcolm reacted to those around him and interacted with what he must have seen as very odd behaviour.
Structure Excellent!

Kylar

Story: 5/5
Collaboration: 5/5
Structure: 5/5

Knowledge:
Animal Training: Using sentences instead of just words to build rapport.
Animal Husbandry: Feed your lion. Its bad not to.
Animal Husbandry: Keep him warm in the cold.
Detection: Spotting small details in the camp
Discipline: Being prepared to stand and fight impossible odds.
Discipline: Standing firm through fear.
Investigation: What could the beast be?
Investigation: Putting together pieces of a story
Etiquette: Military Etiquette: Pulling rank
Etiquette: Military Etiquette: Hierarchy
Malcolm: Not an optimist when it comes to the weather
Malcolm: Air of authority
Aeon: Skyrider
Aeon: Fought the beast
Aeon: Lost his hand to the beast
Aeon: Disobeyed direct orders. Twice

Loot: NA
Fame: NA
Devotion: +1 to Karem (prayer)
Magic: These points may NOT be used for arcana

Story Well done! You reacted to everything going on around you and you kept your character very much 'in' character. A really nice read. Good work.
Structure Really good!

Atashi

Story: 5/5
Collaboration: 5/ 5
Structure: 5/5

Knowledge:
Endurance: Protecting against the cold, especially in metal armour
Strength: Heavy weights on long marches slithers
Discipline: Pushing forward, no matter what
Detection: Spotting small details in the camp
Tactics: 100 vs 4,000 is not good odds
Malcolm (aka Plate-mail guy): Not an optimist when it comes to the weather
Aeon: Skyrider
Aeon: Fought the beast
Aeon: Lost his hand to the beast
Aeon: Disobeyed direct orders. Twice
Kylar: Bought the lion
The Burning Mountains: Do not sound like a fun vacation spot.
Loot: NA
Fame: NA
Magic: These points may NOT be used for arcana

Story Atashi, Atashi, Atashi! I felt like he really got pulled along by the situation and let his fear rule him, just briefly. So well written, very true to your character and very honest of him. He's not a military fellow, so I'm really pleased that you played him so well. I hope he comes back!
Structure Very good!

Rafael

Story: 5/5
Collaboration: 3/5 (2 posts)
Structure: 5/5

Knowledge:
Tactics: Hope for the best, plan for the worst.
Tactics: Concealed information can be as deadly as a concealed weapon.
Detection: Spotting small details in the camp
Etiquette: Military Etiquette: Using correct titles
Malcolm: Not an optimist when it comes to the weather
Aeon: Disobeyed direct orders. Twice
Aeon: Changed
Kylar: Has a Warrick lion called Hunter

Loot: NA
Fame: NA
Magic: These points may NOT be used for arcana

Story Rafael seemed to be really stuck in the middle in this thread - like he was the peace keeper / attempted negotiator, torn between loyalties. Lovely reaction, lovely interaction etc.
Structure Very good!

Aeon

Story: 5/5
Collaboration: 5/5
Structure: 5/5

Knowledge:
Detection: Spotting small details in the camp
Discipline: Standing your ground
Mount: The art of the good exit on horseback
Lions in warcamps? Whatever next.
Malcolm: Not an optimist when it comes to the weather
Malcolm: Not forgiving
Malcolm: Leading men to their death
Malcolm: Didn't listen to you
Rafael: Stood up for you
Rafael: Malcolm's squire

Loot: NA
Fame: -2 (rudeness to a commanding officer), -2 (disobeying a direct order. twice!)
Magic: These points may NOT be used for arcana

Story Oh, I love how very true to your pc you kept throughout this thread, not once deviating or taking the 'easy' route. I wonder where he goes to! I'm looking forward to reading it!
Structure Excellent!

Sintih

Story: 5/5
Collaboration: 1/5
Structure: 5/5

Knowledge:
Endurance: Extreme cold
Detection: Spotting small details in the camp
Etiquette: Military ranks eat together?
Logistics: Using flags to communicate
Heran Dreim: Knew your father
Jaks: A squire

Loot: NA
Fame: NA
Magic: These points may NOT be used for arcana

Story You told, fundamentally, your own story and it was absolutely fine - nice to meet new NPCs etc.
Structure All good.
Note:I have awarded only 1 collaboration point. Since you only posted twice, it would normally be worth 3, but you effectively did a solo thread in a group one. The one point I gave you was for the use of information from the thread in your posts (eg: flags etc). I would urge to take your writing creativity and interact with other pcs in collaborative threads - Sintih has a lot to offer!
Please do PM me if you've got any questions
word count: 940
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~~Red in hoof and claw... ~~
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