((Jean))

So far so good, his orders had been taken without protest. Jean held his breath, watching the mounted men and women take off, galloping to their destinations. When their figures began to blur with the horizon, Jean addressed his roc. Hercule ruffled its feathers; the bird knew what was coming. Arrows flew into the distance, setting fire to the fields, just as planned. A single command later, two brown wings beat against the air and lifted the sky-fighter high up into the blue.

The smoke was consistently spreading and panic had began cross. Panic, the strongest weapon of war. It was time to begin picking out the mages. Normally, he would have picked the magicians off from a safe distance, but the illusion aside, Jean, unlike Solstice, wasn't wearing his equipment. Unprepared for this battle he had been left with a single sword; more a symbol than a weapon. But with the smoke as a cover, Hercule's surprise and strong talons would suffice. After all a giant bird spreads more terror and chaos than a single crossbow.

Crya came in sight and Jean steered Hercule in the black bird's direction. "It's working already!" Jean heard Solstice shouting with a laugh, "By your leave, sir?"

"Take the back row!" Jean roared back. Crya was a better sprinter than Hercule, this way they could cover the ground faster. "Take out the mages while we can still easily spot them!"

When Solstice acknowledged her orders and took off, Jean and Hercule soared lower, searching for an angle to set up their assault from. The closer they came, the blurrier the images became. The battle beneath them had already begun and the roc's shadow slid across the ground. The Bellanese noticed too late. Jean held onto the bird tight, then signaled it to dive.

Jean could feel the air pressure his hair and face. Hercule didn't even need to steer clear of fire and dropped onto the mage like a bomb. With its powerful talons, the bird fished the Bellanese magician out of the formations and Jean pulled the bird up, steering it into a smooth horizontal flight across the Bellanese army. Those who looked up could stare helplessly at the limp corpse of one of their most important allies, crushed between the talons of the giant bird, and vanishing within a flash.

The preemptive strike had been a success. However, the next attack might no longer be a surprise and the sky-fighter could be met with spears and magic. Hercule ascended up into the sky again, flying far out of harm's reach.

((Ymber))

"I tell you I am Ymber Ocmare, I should have a proper bed!" A blond young man is shouting inside a tent. Everyone turned around to pay attention to the man who was strangely dressed. He was new in there, wearing black clothes with colorful details, carrying a big ornated bag on his back, and shouting to the woman in charge of welcoming people in. "I am sorry, sir, but we do not have any more beds now... recently we got some people in... I believe they are going on that ship... when they live, you will have one, and it won't take that much, I think..."

Ymber rolled his eyes and covered his face, in mock desperation. "Oh, wonderful. Precisely! I am going on that ship as well, so what use would it be for me to be able to stay once the ship leaves! You are not saying I should stay here, are you?" His eyes scanning the room, trying to see if there was anyone who was defying him. "Whatever." The boy turned around and left the tent, visibly annoyed by the people in the tent. Did they think they were better than him, an Ocmare? Fools...

He then started to remember his trip from home to where the ship was resting. She had managed to get a place in there, as a guest. He liked to say he was representing his family, but officially he was just a guest. Of course, no one would know that, unless he told them, which he never intended to do. The last night before arriving there he had stayed at a friend's place, and so he had taken this opportunity to have his clothes washed and so he would look perfect upon his arrival to the ship place. Of course, that was his duty as a noble.

It was after coming out from the tent and stopping remembering his trip, that everything started to move. Suddenly people started to run all around. There was a bit of chaos as people voiced their discontent against someone... was it against the Bellanese? After walking around against the flow of the crowd and asking some people, Ymber decided that there probably was a battle going on, and if they were mentioning the Bellanese... that probably meant they were the enemy. But the question was why they would attack now?

Nonchalantly, and smiling to himself, Ymber decided to go see what was going on, for he was a curious person. For some reason, he felt he had to keep going forward; to the heat of the battle. As he kept going, he saw some children running excitedly, shouting things like "Battle, battle! Fight, fight!". He walked through the narrow streets of the site, avoiding people as though not to crash with them. In the meantime, he saw a big cloud of smoke in the air as he heard the battle in the distance. People shouting and swords clashing; something was really wrong, now.

Suddenly, Ymber, seeing how some soldiers ran past him in the same direction he was walking to, he bumped into someone, and felt the weight going down, falling to the floor. By the height he felt against his body, it was probably one of those kids. When Ymber looked down, he saw a young girl in her very early teens laying on the floor. "... Hey, are you ok?" he offered his hand for her to stand up, and once she was again on her two feet, Ymber continued walking towards his direction. "You should leave, girl! This is no place for people such as you!"

What was this girl doing here? She didn't seem a noble girl; at least her clothes didn't say that.

Sol could feel Crya’s chest muscles bunch as the smoke rose into the air and, knotting her fingers into the Roc’s soft feathers, she subdued the irritable cry that fought to arise from the bird’s throat. Releasing a few sharp admonishing clicks, the sky-rider squeezed her mount’s sides with her thighs, urging him towards the rear of the enemy, and the great beast beat his wings hard in response, spurring away from the increasingly hazy dark shadow that was Jean and Hercule. The figures below were still blurred, though it seemed the thickening smoke was now beginning to make enough of a difference for the friendly army behind her; she could hear the sounds of battle already and Crya twitched beneath her in response, eager for the fight.

Suddenly spotting a lingering Bellanese mage – apparently surrounded by a hundred spear-holding followers that wavered in the smoke – Sol allowed the giant bird his predatory instincts. Tucking his wings close, Crya dropped through the smog, his rider’s body pressed securely against his thick neck as she fished with one hand for the crossbow strapped across her back. She saw a glimpse of the man’s startling green eyes and a flash of emerald markings before she swung the crossbow about and loosed a bolt at the mage’s throat. Screeching loud enough to startle the surrounding soldiers – of which she could now see there were less than a dozen – the Roc snatched up the next nearest enemy, rising quickly the drop the man into a small group of his brethren, scattering them like leaves in the wind. A swirl of smoke billowed in the wake of the bird’s wings, allowing Sol enough time to rewind her bow and fire another bolt into a dark silhouette, before guiding Crya back into the skies.

A sharp pain stung her thigh as they lifted, and the sky-fighter had enough sense to duck as the thrown spear shot past her vision, sailing cleanly between her Roc’s wings and fierce head. An inch further, she realised and it would’ve been a puncture wound rather than a graze, rendering both herself – and Crya – useless. Gritting her teeth, Solstice wheeled the bird towards the sun, protecting them from the Bellanese’s sight with the bright daytime glare. When she was sure there were no more missiles aimed in their direction, she took a glance at her leg: the damage didn’t seem too severe, though from the red staining on her leggings she would need to bandage it once she reached the ground again. Still, she noted, lifting her head to peer at the battle below, at least the Bellanese didn’t seem so confident now...

A roar from the frontlines made her raise her gaze and a grin lit her face: it seemed Jean’s battle tactics were working. The Istanese army were surging forwards into the confused mess, wreaking havoc on the even smaller enemy lines. Pinned between flanking cavalry and the ever-more confident footsoliders, the invaders were already beginning to flee – unsurprisingly enough, the mages first. Mages were all very well and good in war – as long as they were alchemists or remained closely protected – but it was clear from their panic that these focussed primarily on ritualism, for how could anyone concentrate in the current chaos?

Spotting Jean and Hecurle in the haze, Sol guided Crya over, shouting when she was in earshot. “Sir, the rear-lines are already breaking form: I don’t think they believed we would figure out their ruse. The cavalry seem to have had a few losses but the main front is now pushing their way forwards, so it won’t be long before they get support. Shall we pursue the rear, sir?”

((Chanson))

"Let go! Your orders!"

The soldier didn't listen to the girl. She was dragged along by the stronger man's hand. "I cannot watch you, lass, your..." He hesitated, "-father, he must be out there."

"Your orders!" She repeated the words like a chorus and sounded more pushy every time she reminded the soldier.

He became agitated and his grip grew firmer. "Listen, I have received orders supported by the supreme commander, lass, I cannot ignore those!"

Chanson had developed a strong disliking in the short time she had been with this man. Jean might have been in a hurry, but could he not have acted more responsibly? Jean had claimed to take care of her, he had promised her. He could not break his promise, he was not allowed to break his promise. How could he have let her to be dragged around by this brute? She flustered. She fought the tears that welled up and blinded her, but she was powerless.

Unable to keep track of what was in front of her, Chanson rammed into a body and finally her hand slipped out of the soldier's. She squealed as she hit the ground. Chanson looked up, and saw the hand was stretched out to her. A nobleman, clearly, but not one she was familiar with.

"... Hey, are you okay?" He asked and she accepted his hand. He eyed her, noticing her lack of markings and plain clothing, she could tell his focus. She leered him suspiciously, as he turned her his back. "You should leave, girl! This is no place for people such as you!"

"Leave to where?" She more stated than asked, but she spoke softly under her breath and with eyes that many would have interpreted as hostile. Suddenly the soldier came back running and grabbed Chanson by her arm. His lips moved as if he wanted to say something, but his effort was wasted. The girl saw her chance to get rid of this man and his painful grip once and for all.

"Let go off me, you brute! Don't touch me!" She shrieked in feigned panic; loud enough for the nobleman to hear. He had valiantly helped her back on her feet and Chanson hoped his chivalry stretched a little further...


((Jean))

Rising over what was supposed to be a battlefield, the enemy seemed to be fleeing. The views more reminiscent of a riot near its end than a fight between armies. His strategy had worked better than Jean had dared hope for, this army had been a joke all along. However their army was still large. A pursuit would thin their numbers sufficiently, discouraging their soldiers to regroup and mount a second offence. There were more questions about the Bellanese army that needed answers and with the launch so soon, there would be no time to research. Who knew when they would come back and what they would bring?

However, Jean was a fair man. "No." He answered Solstice, but left behind his reason. He would have to discuss further measures with Micháele later, such as assigning a night-watch and requesting the aid of the militant guild. No matter the background of this army, their mission statement was to defend, not to slaughter. This was not a war.

"Watch the end of this battle, attack should they regroup." Jean commanded. He pulled the roc sideways and made Hercule glide to the parts where his vision was unscathed by the smog. With the fallen and fleeing mages, their illusion must had been broken, but Jean wanted to confirm this. If this battle was indeed over, he would do nothing rather than land and deal with the aftermath as swiftly as possible.

((Stella))

In the end, the moment came. When the fight seemed to be shifting to their side and look easy to win, Stella knew she didn't have to hold back. Urging her horse to run towards the heat of the battle, she quickly joined the chaos of the battlefield. She never wanted to just go and kill everything that stood on her way, so instead of aiming for heads or hearts, Stella kept trying to hit arms, and legs whenever it was possible. She knew she wasn't suited for a battle like this, but she had to be useful, or else...

When the stress had peaked inside Stella's heart, she felt lost. She didn't know where she was anymore. She was fighting in the battlefield, but she wasn't able to know where was anything. She only saw soldiers, both allies and enemies. Dust, on the ground, smoke on the air. She realized how actually admirable the soldiers were, in that split of second. And when she was still thinking about that, Stella found herself in front of a mage, who was apparently still fighting back, while many other people were already fleeing. Here, she didn't doubt, a swift strike through his chest would be enough.

This went against Stella's beliefs, but it was either eat or be eaten. The law of the battlefield. Because of this, once she saw the soldiers around the mage running away, and leaving, she never chased after the Bellanese. She considered herself to be an honorable fighter, even if an unexperienced one; at least in a real battle like this one. Before she could even recover from everything, she noticed that the battle was effectively over, at least on their side of the battle. The cavalry was not being attacked anymore.

Stella looked around her and saw most of the cavalry soldiers regrouping, already celebrating, as if the battle was completely over. "Do not celebrate yet! We have to be prepared in case they regroup! Stay sharp!". While saying this, she moved her left hand to motion the soldiers to move, and only then she noticed how stained she was. Her clothes were covered in red blood and brownish dust and mud. That was the fate of a soldier who fought on the ground. The fate she shared with those who were under her command.

But there was something which was a lot more important than stray thoughts that came with the heat of battle, and that was healing her comrades. Stella knew some of them could be healed completely if she put her heart on it. Fortunately, she was carrying all kinds of herbs and powders with her, which meant she could take care of the soldiers. Stella could still hear the battle going on somewhere around, but the sound was diminishing and apparently all the fighting would cease soon. Therefore, took the decision of healing people instead of fighting. Their battle was not part of a war. They were only defending themselves.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

((Ymber))

Ymber turned around for a second, trying to see where the people came from, but quickly turned back after hearing a shriek. The girl he had just helped stand on her feet was still there, and as a matter of fact she was being grabbed by a soldier. I definitely shouldn't have helped her...

"Hey, you, soldier! What are you doing!" Ymber ran towards the soldier, who seemed as though he wanted to say something. The girl was free before he had even gotten there, but just in case, he decided to knock that man down. The soldier fell heavily to the ground, and looked at Ymber completely shocked, surprised since he hadn't seen that coming. Ymber smiled cockily. "She's under my protection now. I am a nobleman, you do not disobey what I say!" The soldier's response to that was protesting furiously, although he had already turned around, knowing that everything he would say could prove pointless. He had been humiliated, too.

However, Ymber realized he hadn't thought of a thing, of a little not really important thing. Now that girl was definitely under his protection. "Alright. You better explain me why he wanted to grab you, otherwise I'm not staying with you." There was definitely something odd with that girl. She had no marking that he could see, and for a little girl that didn't look like a noble girl, that was something really unusual. Maybe she was from a noble family which had fallen in disgrace.

"I don't like to act as a nanny, so we will be partners for a while, alright? I help you and you help me. I'm moving forward, since I want to know what's going on there. You will come with me, and after I've seen whatever is happening, we will decide what we're going to do."

Ymber talked without hesitation, apparently not caring about the girl's opinion on what they would be doing. After all, whatever was happening, it didn't seem particularly threatning for the city, so they would be safe so long as they remained together, which was something he planned on doing anyway. Maybe the girl was someone important, in which case he would be regarded as a savior and his reputation would be so great. He was glad, coming earlier had been a good idea, after all.

((Sol))

“No,” came the response from the ex-commander, his eyes taking in the grizzly scene below. “No?” Sol bit back dumbly, but he offered up no further explanation, simply commanding her to remain in her position and watch for further developments. Grumbling to herself, she knotted her left hand into her Roc’s downy feathers, steering him away to bank back around the battlefield for a better view. The cavalry – who had rallied under the small figure of Stella atop her mount – now pressed slowly forward, supported by the surrounding foot-soldiers.

Watching as one Bellanese warrior was hauled from the ground, Sol smirked wryly. Of course Micháele would want ‘guests’ – as he called them when he felt they were little threat. Who else would give him the explanations he needed? No one knew the Bellanese well enough to understand their motivations. Not for the first time, Solstice wondered at the ease of the battle: even now, those invaders too slow or tired to run were throwing down weapons gladly and were starting to trudge their way dismally back to the city with their captors. Wheeling Crya around, Sol glared at the disappearing specs heading toward the lake as the great bird hovered on an air current, the remains of the enemy’s tail fading into the heat haze and smoke. Sensing her mood, the Roc shrieked piercingly, spurring an extra burst of speed from those nearest and suppressing her need to take off after them, the sky-fighter turned her mount sharply, heading back towards the vibrant yellow splodge by the horse fields.

Right where she expected it, Micháele’s blonde hair gleamed in the bright sunlight as Crya descended sharply towards the Lord’s tent, pulling back at the last minute in order to give the lordling a quick blast of sooty air before landing. Noting a nerve twitching at the corner of his expression, Sol grinned, sliding down from her seat atop the Roc with practiced ease. “A victory,” she told him cheerily with a mock bow, adding at the last minute, “my Lord.” The man’s nose practically curled as his blue eyes surveyed her critically; she must look a sight, she realised, covered in sweat and ash as she was. She found herself getting angry before she realised it, eyes narrowing and fingers clenching as the injustice of the matter rose like bile – bitter and burning.

“Ah – Sir Montague, Lady Oceane!” Muttering a few expletives in his direction, Sol turned her glare from Micháele to her travelling companions. Of the two, Stella looked a little more worse for wear, though the sky-fighter doubted that much of the blood spattered on her dress was her own. Her horse walked gamely beneath her, tired yet still high-spirited: much like Sol’s own mount. Jean-Baptiste landed gracefully on the bigger Hercule, whose painted feathers seemed to have borne rather well, his rider’s own strong features smeared in grey. “I hear that the barbarians have surrendered,” the pale Lord continued when the two had come into earshot, “Good, good. I have my men bringing a few survivors back now. Mayhap we’ll get some answers out of them regarding all this...” he waved a hand towards the plains, “...folly.”

“I thought you were looking after the citizens,” Sol snapped irritably, beckoning Stella closer to ask her for a bandage, yet still unwilling to let Micháele’s earlier slight lie. She bent over slightly, applying more pressure to the cut to stem the bleeding; it was relatively shallow and the blood-flow didn’t seem to be life-threatening but it was hurting like a bitch... “Seems to me like you were just hiding your sorry arse away from harm,” the sky-fighter muttered fiercely. Bright splotches of colour appeared on the lordling’s cheekbones and his brows drew down furiously.

“How dare you suggest...” he began in a low hiss, taking a step towards her and then suddenly, seemingly reconsidering, he straightened, sighing deeply with an almost concerned expression on his face. “I’m afraid,” Micháele said as Sol frowned at him suspiciously, “That we cannot delay casting off any longer. I will have a brief word with each of you before you go – Aibhilín, we’ve already had our little heart to heart – and then you must take your things and board the ship immediately.”

“Hey, woah there a minute.” Sol grabbed his shoulder as he made to turn towards Jean, forcing him to face her again, cold hard hatred glaring from his summer eyes. But there was fear there too. “Get your hand off me, soldier,” he iterated carefully and the sky-fighter made a show of it, spreading her fingers in a display of mocking contrition, “What do you want now?”

Throwing her hands up, Sol took a step backwards, russet brows bowed in anger. “I want to know what the hell’s going on! We’ve just been attacked by a random foreign tribe who simply dropped steel and ran as soon as their trick failed. A thousand men intending to do harm have just strolled through Ista, tried to sabotage this mission for unknown reasons, and you want us to just ignore that and leave?”

To his credit, Micháele didn’t even blink at the onslaught. “Yes,” he replied simply and arrogantly, making Sol’s blood fairly boil, “I don’t expect you to understand Aibhilín, but you are conscripted to this mission and this mission only. If you wish to sacrifice both your career and your pay-packet, then please, do continue challenging my authority for then I will be more than justified ridding this voyage of another piece of irritating baggage I don’t want.” He watched her, his sharp little eyes taking in the furious set of her jaw and tight-lipped silence with cold disdain. “Now, I would suggest you oversee the boarding of your bird onto the ship while I fill in your commander. After all, it would be a devastating loss to the world if your bird ended up mauling one of the stable-hands and had to be put out of his debilitating madness, now, wouldn’t it?”

((Stella))

Stella took the job of healing her soldiers. The ones that needed more urgent help were the first to receive it, as she hastily used all her knowledge in order not only to save their lives, but also trying to keep their bodies as well preserved as possible. She didn't know if that would be possible, with all her hard work, but she had surely tried as hard as possible. As the most difficult cases were treated, soldiers with minor injuries came looking for her help. Stella did her best in trying to teach them enough so they could be able to help each other with the smallest wounds, and soon all the cavalry was working together to heal themselves.

The leader of the cavalry couldn't help but be surprised at the sight of the Bellanese not just surrendering, but accepting going back to the city... She realized her side had become the captors, now, and that was something she was not going to promote. She could not do anything about it, now -no, rather, it would not be wise to do anything about it- so there was only one thing she could do. "Do not capture a single enemy!!" She raised her voice as much as she felt she could, so that everyone in the cavalry unit could hear her. "That is not our job!! Remember the first priority is making sure our people are in good condition!! After we make sure of that, we are going back!!"

Did Stella sound confident in herself? She didn't know if that was the case, but she was certainly trying. She understood the logic behind capturing enemies, and in a way, she accepted it, as it would be good to know the reasons that brought the Bellanese to attack them. But Stella decided she would not take part in that. If anything... maybe she could try to make sure the captured enemy soldiers were released safely after they got the information they wanted. Perhaps then the Bellanese would realize they never wanted to harm anyone on the first place.

Those thoughts distracted the woman while she kept taking care of the remaining soldiers. When she decided was the right moment, she sent everyone back to the camp, while she got on her horse and rode towards Lord Micháele's tent, a yellow one, the color so strong. Almost as if he decided that color was to match his hair's. Stella rode slowly towards it, and the sight was certainly a revealing one. Their lord was in front of the tent, looking as clean as always, while Sol, who had just bowed in front of him, was covered in sweat and ash, just as Jean, who was landing next to the other sky-fighter. As for Stella herself, she was covered in dust and blood.

How unfair it was, for a lord to sit back and watch as his soldier fought. For a moment, Stella wondered what actually happen, if she mentioned her origins to the lord, now, and laughed softly to herself as she arrived next to Sol and Jean. That would certainly be an interesting sight. The coward lord would not be able to deal with being aware that she had sent a noblewoman to fight. But that wasn't the right moment, of course. Stella was concealing her identity because... why was she doing it?

Of course, being a noble would have meant bad relationships with people who basically thought every noble person was to be hated, and so not saying who she was meant that people would appreciate her or hate her because of who she was, and not because of the name she bore. But what about the advantages of using her name? She was sure the name 'Ocmare' could be used for her benefit, but would it be wise to do it now? After all, she had come here as Stella Oceane. In that moment, Stella realized that a very small part of herself had accepted her name, because of the good things it meant.

She would use it, her name. There was no telling how soon or late that would happen, but she had realized that the false world she had been living in during a good part of her life could not be changed, no matter how hard she tried. 'To do what no one else had done before'. That had been her goal in life, so far. It was time to outgrow that goal. For the time being, Stella would need a new goal. Perhaps, making sure that the Ocmare family was the most fair noble family in Indri'Enis? That sounded like a plan.

Stella's feet again on the ground, as she patted the horse she had been riding. A wonderful animal, indeed. It seemed to be tired, but still moved with confidence. "Sol, Jean, I am glad to see you both have returned safely. I expected no less of such skilled sky-fighters." She then turned back to the birds behind them. "Hercule and Crya, good job you two". Finally, after paying respect to their comrades' job, Stella turned to Lord Micháele. "I am back, my Lord."

Of course, soon, the tension between Micháele and Sol arise, while the latter signaled to her, needing a bandage, which Stella provided swiftly. Sol tried to go on herself. At first, the blood-flow scared the healer a bit, but soon realized it was not so serious, although by the looks of it, it must hurt quite a lot. Stella listened without interrupting, as the little argument between the two of them kept going, until the lord used his autority to stop it, in a way that Stella didn't like at all.

Sol voiced what the three of them -Sol, Jean and Stella- were thinking. What was going on there? Being attacked by a foreign tribe without a warning or a reason, and then being sent off. There was something really odd in all that. But what was more surprising to Stella was seeing the strange confidence that the lord showed in front of such an irritated Solstice. He replied in such an arrogant way, that Stella was afraid Sol would punch him on the face straight away.

"My lord, if I am allowed to interrupt. I do not think Solstice is being unreasonable here. We are not asking to act as noble people and do the politics, but it would be fair for us to have as much information as we can possibly get. After all... if we are in charge of the security, we need that information. This is not challenging your authority for the sake of it! We are doing our job! I said this, once before, but how can a soldier trust its' lord if the lord does not trust their soldier?"

It was clear, though, that if the lord didn't want to tell them anything, he wouldn't, regardless of what she said. However, perhaps those words could make him act different in the future. He was but a weak and coward man, and so, she could manipulate him, if she was able to use words well enough. Now, the question was; had she done that?

Lord Micháele proceeded, 'suggesting' Sol that she go and oversee the boarding of Crya -and probably Hercule, as well, although probably the lord mentioned only Crya with hopes to mess with Sol's mood-, and Stella could see that Sol was certainly mad at him, so she decided to try and give her a small lending hand. "My lord. Is my presence still needed, here? I can oversee Crya's boarding myself, for I think the roc has grown used to my presence."

Stella smiled faintly, knowing that her sentence constitued a double hit on the lord's face. She was defending with confidence that the bird was not dangerous, and that there was no problem with her being on her own with the bird. And at the same time, she was offering Sol the possibility of staying there, against the lord's wishes. Stella realized she was being a bit too daring, but after all, her words were polite and showed respect, so it should be alright.

((Jean))

To his displeasure, Jean found himself in agreement with the lord. Their priority was the safety of the mission and its participants, they would soon leave and be out of harm’s way. The town itself was not their responsibility, but that of the guild. Surely, Lord Micháele would request their aid, Jean would make sure of this later. For now, Jean’s priority was to search for Chanson. The information the lord possessed would not go anywhere.

“Lady Oceane is most right, my lord. However I must insist we are not mere soldiers, our strengths alone are not the reason we have been recruited. The Bellanese were defeated not through superior manpower, but through strategy. To form a plan of action one needs intelligence of the opponent’s. We were able to scout today, but we may not be tomorrow. Had their formations been solid we would have suffered many losses. In the future, for the sake of the mission, it is of utmost importance we share our intelligence.”

This was as much as Jean could say to the lord, the Bellanese were no longer their problem, after all. What Jean could do, was minimise the damage the lord would do and quicken all the processes without further delay. He would assign Sol to overseeing the birds, on the argument of being most experienced with rocs and ask Stella to attempt to gain more information from Micháele.

“Solstice, may I request you to oversee the birds? Both Hercule and Crya have been in battle and their predatory senses have sharpened, I would prefer if someone with experience would oversee them, rather than one unfamiliar with treating rocs. And Lady Oceane, may I have a short word with you?”

Jean walked outside of the tent, gesturing Stella to follow him. The sky was still gray, although no long pitch-black. Much of the ash was settling on the surface, that too would have to been taken care of. Soldiers and civilians alike were covered in its blankets, the wounded would have to be treated before their new coats settled in their wounds. He hoped that Stella and he were out of hearing distance, for Stella had figured out the Lord a little too much. She was clever, Stella Oceane, but perhaps a little too daring.

“Thank you for coming, milady.” Jean began, pausing to pick out his words. “Soon… We will no longer be here to defend the town. None will be able to hold us responsible for the lives of these civilians. Lord Micháele knows this. I want you to obtain as much information as you can, request the aid of the guild and pass to them this information. Under their protection, the town has nothing to fear. The lord has shown not to feel responsible for these people’s lives, so I cannot entrust him with this task. I am unaware of your experience and duties within the guild, so I apologise if I ask more than what you have been trained for, but I fear I have no choice. I have another responsibility I must attend to.”

The ex-commander took a moment to breathe, disgusting ash-filled air and coughed loudly. Jean then turned back to Stella and studied her expression carefully. She would go as far as challenging a lord, there was something off about her. It was not like Solstice’s recklessness; it was something else. Something that gave her confidence to stand against the lord as if he were her equal.

“Before you go, Lady Oceane, I must request you to treat the Lord respectfully. I am aware of your… Disliking, and certain that you are stronger of both body and mind, but one never knows what a cornered beast may do. Even rats have fangs, do remember that. Although he may not hurt you, he may hurt others. Them too, I leave in your responsibility. Our priorities are the safety of these people and the continuation of the mission. Any personal grudges any of us may hold can wait. Whether Lord Micháele is above this, is irrelevant to your own ability. Tell the lord I ask him to entrust you with all the information he would entrust me with.”

Jean made a quick bow, announcing his leave, “If you will please excuse me, I must be on my way.” He said, as he went to town. Hopefully his trust in Stella was not misplaced and Solstice would look over the rocs. The women might not be pleased by Jean’s actions, taking the lord under his protection, but it was all for the sake of greater goods. Once off in space, mutiny was an option if Micháele stood in the way of the crew’s safety. Right now, however, he was not so easily dealt with…


((Chanson))

His chivalry did stretch, or so the girl assumed, as the soldier ran off to the nobleman’s words. Chanson suppressed a smile, her scheme had worked. Now she needed to return to Jean and send him a thousand cold glares for leaving her, but she could not have been more wrong about Ymber Ocmare’s motivations.

“Alright. You better explain me why he wanted to grab you, otherwise I'm not staying with you.” Her saviour demanded. Chanson stared at him, looking for the man’s marking to confirm his heritage. She could spot hints of turquoise, but these markings were on his arms and so she could not identify them. He had the air of a young nobleman, however, there was no mistaking that.

“I do not know.” Chanson stated clearly, scrambling whatever guts she had together to speak loudly. “If I knew I would tell you. I search for Jean-Baptiste Montague.” However the young man had ceased his listening ears.

“I don't like to act as a nanny, so we will be partners for a while, alright? I help you and you help me. I'm moving forward, since I want to know what's going on there. You will come with me, and after I've seen whatever is happening, we will decide what we're going to do.”

There was no mistaking, this man was definitely a nobleman. “There is an attack. A Bellanese cult, the soldiers say.” Chanson explained, in the same down-talking fashion as her new escort. “I possess excellent hearing.” She explained before he could ask. Chanson did not fancy further conversation. The nobleman would not join the battlefield or leave her; he was better protection than the soldier and much to her disgust, Chanson had no better choice than to stick with him.

((Stella))

Jean was quickly the one to be reasonable, trying to calm things down in order to avoid any possible confrontation between anyone. Stella could then see why he was a good leader, if there was ever any doubt of it. His words were sensible yet straight to the point. It was then, much to her surprise, that the man called her outside. She excused herself to the lord and went outside, following Jean. What was it that he wanted to tell her, that couldn't be said in front of Sol and Lord Micháele.

Stella stood, silent, in front of Jean, waiting for him to explain what he wanted to say. She couldn't even imagine how she looked like, right then, after that battle, and she thought to herself she should find a way to fix herself. At least get some new clothes to wear. She listened carefully as Jean explained how they would not be responsible for the lives of the civilians there, and was about to answer back, saying that was not the point, when Jean said she should get information from the Lord and pass it to the guild.

That was certainly a good idea. She was quite new inside the guild, but they would definitely listen to her. It was not as if she was nobody; after all she had been chosen to go there, so if she sent them an advice, explaining the situation, they would do something about it. They wouldn't leave the place go unprotected, right?

"I agree with that, Sir Montague... I do not feel you need to worry about the lives of the civilians, in such a case. I will of course try to obtain as much information as I can possibly do, and pass it to the guild. However, if I was to fail on this, I am convinced that Stealth will deal effectively with the information matter. Therefore, the place will be safe. As safe as it can be, if they eventually get attacked again, anyway... As for my experience and duties... I will admit I am not the most experienced member, there, but as I was chosen to be here, I doubt they would ignore my words."

Jean coughed for a moment, because of the ash-filled air, as Stella was wondering what this responsability he had to attend to could be. She was looking at him as he seemed to take a careful look at her face. Was he trying to see something that was not clear? Did she send some strange feeling? Maybe she was just covered with mud and dirt, because of the battle?

"I have always used respectable words towards the Lord, haven't I...? But at any rate, I think I will be able to deal with him. After all, you could say I am... used to dealing with this kind of situations." As she said that, Stella laughed softly. "I know. My priority is also the safety of the people here, moreso than the mission itself. However, I do not have any specific grudge against the Lord... that could probably be applied to Solstice Aibhilín. I am aware that I should not push him too far, or he could do something completely unexpected, and I do not plan on risking people's lives like this. I will be careful... sir."

Stella bowed to Jean right before he did a quick bow himself, and said goodbye to her. "Thank you for the trust you have put in me." She spoke as the man had already turned around. She was glad Jean had entrusted her with an important task, as that meant he was being useful, and that was the reason she was actually here.

After seeing the ex-commander leaving, Stella returned inside the tent, where the lord was waiting for her. "Excuse me for my short absence... Jean-Baptiste Montague has explained to me there were some urgent matters that required his presence and has therefore left. He told me that, whatever information you would entrust him with, related to this battle we have just won -Stella hesitated for a moment- under your leadership or to the Bellanese, should be passed on to me. That way, I can quickly give him the information without bothering you anymore, my lord."

She smiled confidently at Micháele, hoping her words were to have the desired effect. The decision of praising him and assuming he had been the battle's leader was clearly taken with the idea of pleasing him in mind, so that he would feel at ease when giving information to her. It was easier to obtain information from a relaxed man, after all.

"But perhaps we should discuss this somewhere more comfortable. After all, someone such as you shouldn't have to be standing up when talking about such important matters... am I not right, my lord?" While Stella spoke to the Lord, she could only hope he didn't take that the wrong way. After all, she was trying to praise him and his position in order to obtain something. There was nothing else than that, and she certainly didn't wish to get in trouble herself only because that man had understood her the wrong way.


((Ymber))

So the girl didn't know why she was chased by the guard. Hmph, bad beginning. Ymber thought he heard the girl talking about some name, but he wasn't really interesting. Perhaps talking about a friend of hers. Who knows. But the most surprising news had still to reach his ears.

"A Bellanese cult, you say??" Ymber didn't think of himself as the biggest expert in politics, even if he was sure enough of his knowledge. However, he had to secretly admit to himself that he didn't know what they would be doing there. "Hmm...! I... see...! Thanks for that information, sharp-eared girl, your ears have been really helpful here. Not even I could have known they were Bellanese without having enough proof. Come to think about it, I do not know your name. I am Ymber Ocmare."

After the proper introductions were made, the two moved forward, with the goal of seeing the battleground in mind. Realizing that the girl didn't really want to talk that much, he decided not to bother her. After all, if the girl was truly lost, she wasn't probably having a good time, with there being a battle and all. He probably should be a bit more considerate, if only just a bit.

What Ymber saw when they arrived at a point from where the battle could be seen was really surprising. The battle was flickery, kind of blurry, which was the most unsettling thing, with some the sky full of dark smoke and some other flickering things on the sky. And of course, everything else was what was to be expected from a battle. People using swords against other people, blood and dust everywhere, and a big amout of soldiers riding horses who were wreaking havoc upon a specific section of their enemies.

"This is madness... I never thought the Bellanese would attack such a place... let us leave this place! We do not want to risk our lives, here." By the number of enemy soldiers Ymber saw, it was impossible that they were to win. However, he didn't want to frighten the girl, so he omitted that information. "We will leave the city center, though, and move towards... there!" He said that as he pointed the direction of the tents, at the limit of the city, believeing they would be able to make it alive from there.

"So, how did you get lost? And are you searching for someone in particular?" For a moment, Ymber thought it might be a good idea to try and distract the girl with some chit-chat, hoping she would not think that battle was important at all. While crossing the city, he realized that, after all, people in general didn't seem as frightened as he would expect, seeing the number of enemies in the battlefield. All the better, since that would work well with calming the girl.

After a while, Ymber and Chanson found themselves walking through a deserted area of the city, and it was then, that he saw a man in the distance. That man had imposing red hair and seemed to be quite tall. Ymber then extended his arm in front of the girl he was protecting, meaning to her that she should stay behind him, and he unsheathed his sword. After all, a man alone on a place like that was suspicious.

"Who are you? What are you doing here?"

((Micháele))

As the detestable sky-fighter left with her vile avian charges – a small irritable frown crinkling her brow as she glanced back to her companions – Micháele turned his attentions to the conversing pair a short distance away, eyes narrowing slightly in concerned suspicion. The beautiful spy was nodding sombrely to the ex-commander’s words, exuding a natural confidence and grace, despite the current state of her person. The nobleman frowned deeper; despite the lack of visible markings, Stella carried herself like a queen... was she truly as common as she described, or was there a streak of nobility in her bloodline that shone subtly through her disguise? He knew the way the guild worked; was there something more here than just a privileged student sent to explore the stars? What if they had sent her on purpose: to spy on him – and the mission itself?

As if to support his suspicions, the pair acknowledged each other with a short bow, splitting off in their own separate directions. Contrary to his request, Jean-Baptise disappeared rapidly towards the city, his swift stride carrying him quickly out of eyesight, and the figure now approaching him was the woman with whom he had growing concerns. Stilling before him, she explained the reasoning behind the sky-fighter’s recent departure. Micháele prepared to steel his face into impassivity, lest his eyes show his misgivings, however Stella suddenly grinned at him disarmingly, and he felt his own lips quirk to a smile in response.

"But perhaps we should discuss this somewhere more comfortable,” she stated then with the ease of one born to hospitality, “After all, someone such as you shouldn't have to be standing up when talking about such important matters... am I not right, my lord?"

Feeling his concerns slip away like ice melting in the sun’s heat, the lord allowed himself a brief moment of self-satisfaction; there was clearly no threat here. She merely only wished to relieve the burden of her superiors and spend her time conversing with one of the most powerful men for miles around. Of course those pretty blue eyes held no subterfuge. Smile broadening, the Lord Tacita indicated a doorway of tent-flaps behind them, leading the way through the conference area of the tent into a more comfortable reception area adorned with rich carpets, soft seats and a single writing desk. The only reason Micháele agreed to stay on these forsaken dirt plains was because of this little piece of luxury. Even then, remembering the opulence of the home he left behind caused him to shudder in disgust at his current appointments. But it served its purpose at least.

“My lady Oceane,” Micháele began as they both sat themselves upon the cushioned chairs, “May I call you Stella?” Continuing with her nod of agreement, the lord waved a hand for her to help herself to the refreshments on the small table before them. “You are aware, of course, of what the Bellanese leader said when we attempted to dissuade him from his course? In truth, there have been more than a few oppositions to our mission, none of which actually hold any relevance to the true reason behind our travels. The information I have gathered so far suggests that there will be many more.” Micháele paused dramatically, helping himself to a dried fig as he let the thought sink in. Chewing contemplatively on the fruit, he studied the woman opposite him, noting the predictable curiosity and settled back further into his seat. “But that is not why your little team is here. Sure,” he shrugged, “your military skills will be put to good use on this trip, but have you wondered Stella why a diplomat, spy and warrior – an unlikely trio at the best of times – have been put together specifically for an exploratory mission?”

“It is our belief,” the lord stated coolly, reaching for his goblet of wine and taking a large swig, “That we are not the only beings in the great expanse of the heavens. The Academy has been quietly using its ritual astrologers over the last few moons in an attempt to see and communicate with these other creatures.” Leaning forwards, Micháele allowed a hint of his enthusiasm to shine through his blue gaze. “And it has worked. Through the medium of an erythoril compound that flows like liquid metal, the ritualists have been able to create a form of scrying mirror through which we can trace images: of our home, our people, our ways. And recently, we have been answered.”

The Lord Tacita leaned back into his cushions, a single eyebrow raised and a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “Hence the mission. The pictures shown to us by these beings – what they are calling ‘aeliens’ – describe a variety of landscapes rich in strange animals, plants and – most importantly – minerals.”

“Now, the Bellanese – as you saw – don’t want us going to these distant planets because they, for some reason, are aware of our ultimate plan: to collect some of these wondrous items and bring them back to Indri'Enis so that we can study and archive them. Our experimentations with the erythoril compound is similar to one of the Bellanese’s sacred rites and they believe our messages come from the world’s deities where they live in their...” Micháele waved a hand airily, trying to find an appropriate word for the strange ideal, “...god paradises. They believe that to even venture into such a world will spell doom and disaster upon our people.”

He snorted in derision. “Of course, they are fools. Our astronomers have been studying the stars and their planets for centuries; it is clear that the heavens are no more the god’s than they are ours. And so we go, despite some of the protests from the land’s barbarian tribes. Your mission: you, my lady Oceane, Jean-Baptise and the Aibhilín girl, are going to be the few who make first contact with these beings. You, Stella, are here to retrieve what information you can from the aeliens; Jean-Baptiste will be the effective politician: greeting, treating and debating with them; and Aibhilín is there to protect you both.”

“Of course, in truth,” Micháele sighed, rolling his eyes, “the sky-fighter’s not truly needed: you’ll have a quarter of the Guild’s army at your backs after all... but her presence was requested by a power higher than my own humble position-“ he allowed himself to share a long-suffering expression of amusement with the spy. A bit of common dislike never failed to boost the morale of the underlings... “-and who am I to disobey the orders of a superior? Still, Stella my dear, I’d like you to keep an eye on her. She’s trouble in a bottle that woman, and it wouldn’t surprise me if she managed to jepordise the mission with just her presence aboard the ship. She seems to respect you two though so if we’re lucky we may at least get her to toe the line...”

Micháele chuckled, stretching luxuriously and then standing. “Well,” he said decisively, “It has been a pleasure, my lady, but I am afraid we are all very busy and should both be elsewhere. I would advise you find Mister Montague and board the ship as soon as possible. We will be launching from the dock at dawn, so you should make sure you are all in your cabins by sundown at the very latest. I would also suggest," he added, grinning and wrinkling his nose, "that you take the time to explore this ship's baths. Get youself into some clean garments."

Giving her a nod of dismissal, the lord smiled and encouraged her out with a wave of his hand. "I will see you anon.”

((Stella))

Stella saw Micháele's mouth quirking to a smile when she smiled, herself, and right then she knew it was working the way she wanted it to work. Praising him was what she had in mind, when she was talking to him, right then. Especially because she wanted to get information from him, and so the best way was to have him feel at ease. He would speak easier, that way, and trust her a bit more, probably.

As the lord's worries apparently disappeared, she smiled to herself, glad that her tricks had worked, as he saw the man seemingly lost in her eyes, for a second. Stella followed the lord to a doorway of tent-flaps behind them, as he smiled wider. As they walked in, she realized that the inner part of that tent looked definitely fancier than she had expected, especially the area they were in, now. It was quite fancy in general, with quality carpets, good and comfortable seats and a writing desk. She could see that the desk used a very good variety of wood, definitely. Obviously, the lord loved luxury and was having it in there. As much as Stella hated to admit it, it kind of felt more at home than some other places she had been to. It was nowhere close to the Ocmare Estate in terms of luxury, but it did feel similar, in a way.

Stella sat down, letting out a very soft sigh, finally able to sit in such a comfortable place, for the first time in who knew how much time. She looked at Micháele as he sat down as well. He requested that he be able to call her Stella, to which she quickly gave a nod of agreement. She wouldn't want to say no to him, as this would jeopardize her mission. She was given permission by the lord, with a quick gesture of her hand, to help herself. However, she wasn't particularly hungry, after a long and tough battle, so she only ate a little bit, to make sure the lord was not offended by her not taking up his offer. In the meantime, she listened carefully to what he had to say. Micháele talked about that the Bellanese leader said when they tried to dissuade him from advancing with his army. He had been very clear, and although Stella understood what he meant, and respected it, she didn't thought it was necessary to go that far. However, she was not surprised when the lord revealed that there had been quite a few groups that were opposing to that mission. It made sense, as it was something quite controversial.

What worried Stella was hearing that there would be more opposition in the future. Did that mean they would have to fight against their own kin? She hoped that would not be the case... Impatience grew on her as Micháele paused for a moment, settling then back further into his seat. He was about to explain the reason of having chosen the three people that had been chosen for that mission. Stella had never thought about it, but it made sense, to wonder about that. For once, she was agreeing with the lord. What an unlikely trio, they were. From the militant guild, all of them, but quite different anyway. A diplomat, a warrior and herself, a spy. What did they have to do in an exploration mission? She had always assumed she was there more as a warrior than as a spy, especially because of her healing skills. A warrior with such skills was rather rare, so she had always thought that was the reason. But it turns out her spy skills were part of the decision, too?

Stella had a bit of water, while Micháele took a large swig of wine. The next words the lord spoke shocked Stella, who stood up, all of a sudden. "What do you mean we are not the only beings...?!! Are you saying that... there are more... living beings... further away?" Stella couldn't believe her ears. She understood that the ship was supposed to go so far away in the heavens, and see other worlds... but, to think that other worlds were truly inhabitated, and that it was confirmed... she was beyond surprised. The method that had been used to communicate was surprising, too. And it was one she failed to completely understand. An erythoril compound that lowed like liquid metal? Surely, the Academy knew lots of interesting and impressive things. She had to admit those were beyond her comprehension. Trying to accept there were living beings beyond what she knew was already something huge.

The lord leaned back into his cushions, and motioned Stella to sit down again, as he continued to explain everything, a small smile starting to appear in his face. They had been show many landscapes with strange animals, strange plants and minerals that probably were to be used by her own land. Stella wondered if this could create a war with this new people, this "aeliens". And she had to wonder if they could win it, if it started. It then made sense for the Bellanese to be mad at them. They probably thought that their Gods were being spied, and that they would try to steal everything there was in their "god paradises", as Micháele put it. If that were true, it would really spell doom and disaster upon the Teela.

Stella listened to how Micháele explained everything he knew about the heavens, and how they belonged to their people as much as to any god. But if everything hadn't been surprising enough, what the lord had to say further surprised her. That was why she had to sit down. If she had been standing up, she would have definitely fallen down. She would be one of the few first people to make contact with these mysterious beings. She would have to get important information from them, as risky as it may sound.

Micháele continued to explain that a higher power had requested that Sol was part of the mission. What kind of past did she have? There was something about her, certainly. She had probably been a really good warrior, for quite some time. And, as he kept talking about her, the conversation went on to have him ask Stella to keep an eye on her. What was she supposed to say, then? She was particularly fond of Solstice, as she seemed like a very decent woman, unlike the lord. "Do not worry, my lord, I will keep an eye on her, you can be sure of that." What she didn't mention, though, is that keeping an eye on her did not mean she was agreeing with his goals, and defending him from her. All in all, with these events going on, could she be considered a double agent, now? Hardly, as she'd never change her allegiance. It was more like a quite complicated situation.

After such matters were settled, the lord decide it was time to call it a day. A few last instructions about when the ship would be launching, and a suggestion that she went to find Jean and board the ship soon. No mention for Sol. As expected. But there was still time for a last humiliation from the lord, as wrinkling his nose while grinning, he also suggested she 'explored' the ship's baths and get into some clean garments. "Unlike you, I have been fighting against your enemies, risking my body for this mission. As disgusting as I may be, right now, you have no right to mention that to me, when you have been sitting all the time while we risked our lives!!" That's what she would have liked to say, but that was not right; it would be too risky, so she didn't say it. "Yes, my lord, thank you for your concern."

Stella was given a nod of dismissal, smiled gently at her, and the meeting was over. She walked outside, and decided to walk around the place, a bit. However, she had to consider going straight away to the ship's baths, as a blood-drenched woman in the middle of the town would be quite a scary sight.

((Chanson))

"Chanson Montague." The girl replied, making a minimal effort to politely bow. Fortunately the young nobleman was considerate enough not to demand further answers or conversation, nor to drag her against her will like the soldier had. She found it unnerving he had her tag along to get a better view of the battlefield, but Chanson could not entirely deny her curiosity. Yet as the skirmish became close enough for Chanson to hear, it suddenly all became very real. There was little to see, but a large cloud of ash, but she could hear the voices and the swords and at that moment Chanson knew she would not forget about them soon.

"This is madness... I never thought the Bellanese would attack such a place... Let us leave this place! We do not want to risk our lives, here."

Chanson did not bother to reply to Ymber, but her eyes had widened and her entire body was shaking. She felt fear, nothing but fear and did her best not to cry, even though she wanted to. "We will leave the city center, though, and move towards... There!" Ymber said and pointed back towards the tents, where more allied soldiers would be. Ymber was afraid too, Chanson thought. He too, felt he needed protection...

Without a word she followed him. Ymber tried to start some idle conversation, but Chanson pretended not to hear him. The girl found herself walking closer to the young lord than she had before, she even held on to his arm, something that was nothing short of rare for Chanson. Her cheeks had already become moist, but Ymber seemed not to notice, or care. Suddenly, he stopped and drew his sword, to point it at a familiar figure.

"Who are you? What are you doing here?"

Ymber had been faster to notice Jean than she and put his arm in front of us. Jean looked gray, covered in a blanket of ash and parts of his sleeves were tainted by blood. Unlike Ymber, Jean did not reach for his blade. Instead, he continued to walk towards the two. Chanson knew what this meant, Jean was not one to take risks with blades and as silent as he was now; something bad had happened and another could. His frown was dark, as if the ash cast a shadow across his face and its unwavering expression. "I am Jean-Baptiste Montague. Step aside, I have come to claim my daughter." Jean articulated clearly, not lingering on one step or word, as he drew closer.

Chanson grabbed hold of Ymber's sleeve, "Ymber Ocmare, stand down!" She said, but in her current state it sounded more like she was begging than commanding him. Jean didn't take risks, Chanson knew he wouldn't expose himself to an edge carelessly, so each step he took was one Ymber should move back. Jean's hand moved towards the hilt of his sword, ready to draw. "This is Jean-Baptiste Montague! I have been looking for this man!"

If only Ymber would listen to her, for she feared Jean had little patience left this day.

((Ymber))

Chanson Montague. Ymber was sure she hadn't met her before, but there was something about her name that seemed to ring a bell. No matter how much he thought about it, it was impossible for him to remember what it was. The more time it passed, the more irritated Ymber was, for not being able to remember what was with the girl's name. It was because of that, that he had failed to noticed the girl being scared of what they had seen.

It turns out that having went to see the battle had been a wrong decision. Ymber had showed an important lack of judgement. He wanted to try and join the fight, and that's why he wanted to go there, but it was obvious he would not join if he had a girl to take care of. Why go there at all, then? His decision was lacking sense. Fortunately, Stella wasn't there to remind him of that.

Chanson had been absolutely shocked after the sight of the battle. Ymber had felt her shaking, but thought she might have been feeling cold, and of course did not notice her wide-open eyes. Her fear was not noticed by the young nobleman, and so they just kept walking to the tents. Ymber tried to think about what was going on with the Bellanese, but the more he thought about it, the less sense it made. It was getting on his nerves.

In the end, Ymber stopped his random talking, as he felt the girl holding on to his arm. He did not know her from before that day, but it certainly seemed strange for her to do that, so she was probably scared. For a moment, Ymber felt sorry for her, felt guilty for having taken her to see the battlefield. In fact, he felt so guilty he didn't dare telling her anything. He might want to apologize to her, some time in the future...

Just as Ymber was thinking about that, he saw the man with reddish hair, and stood in front of Chanson. As he waited for the man's answer, he checked out his looks. He was covered in gray dust, and parts of her clothes were stained... the color was red, probably blood. The man was looking quite imposing, but Ymber was brave, and he would not move his sword away from pointing at him. As strange as it felt for him, he was ready to give his life for that girl, if it was necessary.

The man didn't reach for his blade, and he continued to walk towards them. Ymber looked at him, defiantly. "Who are you, I said! Identify yourself and do not get nearer!" As Ymber yelled, he moved his sword forward, trying to seem imposing. With his height and strong body, he should look half dangerous. But the man kept walking onwards. In the end, he introduced himself. His name was Jean-Baptiste Montague... Chanson Montague... he wanted to claim his daughter. To claim her? It's not like he had kidnapped her!

"Do you have proof of what you say?! Don't get closer! I will not let you lay a finger on this girl if you're not who you claim to be!" Ymber looked back for a moment, and saw Chanson clutching at his sleeve, and begged him to stand down. But it was the next words that made Ymber feel at ease. Once Chanson said that the man was indeed Jean-Baptiste Montague, and that she had been looking for him, he decided he was not dangerous, as he had thought at first.

Ymber swinged his sword for a moment, and then plunged it into the ground. He had remembered what was strange about the girl's name. Of course, it was her surname. She was a Montague. The nobleman smiled, confidently, as he had remembered the name, and who this man was. "Jean-Baptiste Montague...!" He patted the girl's head, and motioned her to go with her father. "I am Ymber Ocmare."

Private Quarters

All contain: 1 x lockable door; 1 x porthole window; 1 cot/bunk per individual/pair (up to you as to whether you are living with a roomate/family member - Lower Quarters are generally all shared by 2-4 people but there are more individual residences available in General and Militant Quarters - most VIP Quarters are individual unless otherwise requested); 1 x lockable trunk for belongings; self-contained privy; 1 x washstand with basin.

Militant Quarters and the General Quarters that aren't shared also have: 1 x plain writing desk/table; 1 x chair.

The VIP Quarterdeck cabins contain more luxury furnishings, e.g. cushions, curtains, carpets, as well as: 1 x extra window; 1 x private washtub (filled by servants); 2 x armchairs (at least); 1 x armoire (instead of trunk); 1 x dressing table.

-------------------------------------------------------

The Gymnasium & Baths Pre-launch (pm):

The Gymnasium is relatively quiet in the afternoon before the launch, though the baths seem to already be filled with the nobility and a few less important crew members. The soft murmur of voices and steam-filled air gives the environment a very calm feeling at present, though the steady flow of visitors suggests that this area may become more crowded towards the latter part of the day.

-------------------------------------------------------
The Flight Deck Pre-launch (pm):

In the afternoon before the launch, the flight deck is a riot of avian calls and Teela chatter, as both ostlers and riders mill about trying to settle the Rocs into their eyries. Though most have been habituated to their new roosts beforehand, a few birds balk at entering their new residences and are seen to be coaxed by their riders, bearing large slabs of meat as incentive.

-------------------------------------------------------
The Commons Pre-launch (pm):

In the afternoon of the pre-launch, the commons is the second busiest area of the ship, filled mostly with milling nobility who have little to do in the organisation of the ship’s launch. Mead and wine is already flowing freely and a lone guitarist has settled herself upon the mezzanine stage, playing a mixture of soothing and lively songs.

Pre-launch

((Jean))

There is only so much a man can take in for a day; the mysteries of the Bellanese bothered Jean, as did the lord's incompetence and Solstice' lack of self-control. Discipline and order were what he had grown used to and this chaos both frustrated and frightened him. They had been able to think on their feet today, but had the situation been more dire, Jean did not know if they could have celebrated a victory. This chaos would have to change. Today had shown Jean he had to take greater responsibility than he had ever accounted for. Jean did not have to take care of only Chanson, but it felt like he had an entire crew under his wing; the idea of joining as a common guard had been an illusion.

Jean doubted his decision to leave the task of hearing out the lord in the hands of Stella. Her confidence had been reassuring to most men, but Jean was unlike most men and with information this precious, Jean had preferred to take it upon himself. However, Chanson was a responsibility of his also, one he could not ignore. However little patience he had left, it seemed a man was about to test it...

When Jean had finally found Chanson, a young man, seemingly of noble birth, stood between him and his daughter. Not only that, he drew his sword and demanded answers from him, as if Jean were to be a criminal! Jean's frown grew, his eyes dulled and his focus became nothing but the man's movements. He walked towards Chanson, but the man would not back down. "I am Jean-Baptiste Montague. Step aside, I have come to claim my daughter." The ex-commander answered, when the man asked for his identity, but it seemed he did not believe him.

As he came closer he reached to his own blade, preparing to counter any movement the man would make. He would claim his daughter and return; he was a trained and experienced swordsman who had served for the guild. A sword alone did not scare Jean, especially not if it was a young nobleman who wielded this blade. It was a formality for the families, but few ever put their training to the test. Micháele, for one example, had rarely fought.

Fortunately for the young man, Jean depicted, Chanson got him to back down. He introduced himself as Ymber Ocmare and thrusted his sword into the ground; a dramatic flamboyance Jean-Baptiste could have appreciated under different circumstances. He motioned Chanson towards Jean and she quickly ran to him and grabbed his sleeve. Jean had not taken his eyes of the nobleman, but removed his hand from the hilt of his own blade.

“I thank you, for returning to me my daughter.” Jean stated, more as an announcement than a true show of gratitude. Something more would have been in order, however he had dropped his act since he had left Stella Oceane and had not intention of recovering his noble image for today. “We must be on our way now. Farewell, Ymber Ocmare.”

Jean-Baptiste and Chanson left the scene, and didn't speak a single word on their way back...

Pre-launch

((Ymber))

Ymber eyed the man who was standing in front of him, while Chanson ran towards him. Jean-Baptiste Montague, hm? He was surely interesting, as far as he knew. Jean removed his hand from the hilt of his blade, and this made Ymber feel at ease. Things would not get bad, and he was happy for that. He stood in his position for a short while, after Chanson's father had expressed his thanks for returning his daughter. He had sounded really serious, as if he was not truly grateful. Right after that, the man announced he would be leaving with the girl.

The young nobleman's blood started to rush. He had reunited the girl with her father, and not a single word of appreciation was given? That was beyond what he could take, that was for sure. Ymber grabbed his sword, and sheathed it again, quickly, as his skills allowed him to do. He then stepped forward, and shouted with all his voice.

"I did not return your daughter to you, Montague! I helped the girl to find the person she wanted to find! I did not do this for you, but for her, do not forget that!!"

Jean-Baptiste didn't speak a word and, in fact, he didn't even turn around. Ymber was starting to feel really angry, and he rushed forward, a few more steps, not really knowing what to do. That was until a thought rushed through his mind. He smiled to himself, confidently, and he shouted again, perhaps even louder than he had done before.

"Chanson!!" The girl looked back for a moment. "Our paths will definitely cross again, do not doubt that!!" With that, he turned around, and left, without looking back. He had secretly hoped that Jean-Baptiste had looked back and saw him leaving, confidently, but that didn't happen. However, soon, Ymber remembered he had to go towards the ship, just in case they were leaving soon. After all, that was his goal, anyway, right?

Looking quite relaxed, the young man walked back towards where he had met Jean-Baptiste Montague and beyond, since he knew the ship was in that direction. Could it be, that Montague was actually in the ship, too? Ymber dismissed this thought as something way too stupid, be he admitted it would be interesting. In the end, after a relatively short walk, he found the ship, as huge as he had imagined, and he only had to tell his name to one of the guards, in order to get in.

Right before that, he had seen a young woman covered in blood and dust get into the ship, and he obviously had to ask the guard who that woman was. He had to know the name, as he could not believe people would dare going around, looking like that. "That is Lady Oceane. She fought in the battle that took place not long ago." was the answer Ymber got.

So, a woman who fought in that battle, hm? Probably she had a good swordplay that could be tried against his own. That would be a good idea, as there would be plenty of time, to do that, while in the ship. Therefore, he wasn't particularly concerned about the woman, and went to find his own quarter in the VIP Quarterdeck, as he deserved for being the nobleman he was.

Places open:
Gymnasium & Baths
Flight Deck
The Commons
Private Quarters
Corral & Supply Hold

Day set: Pre-launch
Time set: PM


((Sol. The Flight Deck – Pre-launch pm))

Wincing as the piercing screech assaulted her ears again, Sol waved the large rat at arm’s length before her mount’s beak, watching his beady amber eyes assess the treat suspiciously. “Come on, you bugger,” she muttered as Crya’s gaze twitched downwards, before suddenly spotting the Roc’s interest. “Hey!” she shouted, lunging forwards to distract the giant bird from the witless ostler who had wandered into her restless companion’s vision, voice biting in the idiot’s direction, “Do you want to die, fool?”

Finally catching the Crya’s interest as the man hurriedly moved off, Sol tossed the rat by the tail into the Roc’s roost, throwing in a second when the inevitable glare of disgust appeared in his haughty gaze. Giving her one last look of disdain, the eagle sauntered in after his prize, flicking his pinions casually at her head as he passed. Sighing, Sol collected up her gear and turned towards the rear of the deck, frowning once more at the great big hole in the back of the ship. Already, ritualists were gathering either side of the deck’s entrance, the small bundle of Teela conversing quietly over large etched symbols on the floor that Sol surmised must have something to do with making a door. She had never been good with magic.

With a shrug, Sol turned her back on them and headed out, sparing a brief scratch for Crya – who attempted to make a meal of her fingers – and an appraising nod to the comfortably dozing Hercule. Rummaging beneath her shirt as she walked, she drew out the key to her room, noting the number and peering at the interspersed maps on the way to ensure she held the right direction. It looked as if the ship would pose far more of a navigation problem than she realised.

She always hated getting lost.

/

Day set: Pre-launch
Time set: PM

((Stella))

Just as Stella thought she would do, her first destination inside the mighty ship would be the public bathhouse. Of course, she wasn't exactly happy about the place being public, as it would mean she could draw the gazes of certain lascivious old man, which would incomodate her in a great way. However, there was nothing that could be done. She was covered in blood, and it was important for her to get rid of it, before it stained her soul, as well.

Upon entering the bath zone, Stella removed her clothes in a place that was far from other people. Fortunately, the place was not very crowded, which made Stella feel at ease. Those clothes were probably washable, to a certain extent, but they would not look perfect after that. She decided to have them washed, so that she could use them as "work clothes", later on. It was always good to have some of those. Perhaps she would search for some clothing dye, too, so that they would look new and nice. She also prepared new clothes for her to put on, after the bathing session was over.

The chosen clothes were quite light and comfortable, yet rather expensive-looking. Stella had refused to take with her clothes that could only be worn by noble people, but she had to admit her choice hadn't been that intelligent, either, as her clothes seemed expensive enough so that only noble people or very rich merchants could wear them. That long tunic was white with turquoise and purple trimmings, which formed an elaborate pattern all along the sides of it. Once everything was ready, Stella proceeded to the tepidarium, where she enjoyed mildly warm water for a while, while cleaning herself. Fortunately for her, the water was clear and perfect, at this time of the day. Surely it would be much worse by the end of the afternoon...

After spending some time there, at the large tepidarium pool, Stella moved to the caldarium, which was still reasonably big. The water was much much hotter, and at first it took a while for her to get used it. She could feel her skin pores opening, because of the hot water. That would be a great way to clean her skin, but also her hair. After the caldarium session was over, there was only one thing left for her to do. It would be so hard to do, though, as she had been at the caldarium, and her skin was sensitive because of the hot water. As soon as she stepped into the frigidarium, which was a small pool with really cold water, she had to cover her mouth in order to avoid screaming. For some reason, she had always tolerated heat much better than cold, and it was the same thing with water.

The last pool was nice, though, after a while, because it refreshed her mind, and made her felt like regaining energy, after a long day. She was now feeling quite better, and was ready to leave the baths, after a while there. But, for some reason, Stella was feeling at ease, at the water, floating, without having to worry about anything. However, her time in there, relaxing, was cut short, when she heard some noble men entering the place, talking noisily, and she decided she didn't want to be seen. Stella then quickly moved to a corner of the room, where she put on the long tunic she had prepared before, and also a pair of sandals. With that, she was ready to go.

Her next destination would obviously have to be the Military Quarters, where she should have a place for herself. It should not be very big, but it should be enough for her to keep her things safe. A short walk through the Leviathon allowed Stella to see how huge this place was, in fact. What she saw after opening the door of her cabin pleased her quite a lot. It might not be the room a noble person would have, but it was certainly more than enough. The cot seemed comfortable enough, and the trunk had a good size, so she was able to store all her things inside it. Stella kept the key safe with herself, and locked the trunk. She looked through the window, and still saw the tents below. Everything looked so strange. She was in a ship, but she couldn't see the sea... what was that supposed to mean? And even more impressive, it would be, once the ship started "sailing". What would it look like, to be flying? Roc riders would surely know, but flying was certainly new to Stella.

After everything important was done, Stella's final destination was, for now, the Commons, where the nobility was spending some time. Chatter filled the air, as well as a lone music tone of a guitarist, who was playing a calm song, as Stella went into the place. A few eyes locked on her, as she walked around the place. She couldn't say if she was being recognised or not. As far as she could tell, she shouldn't be, especially because she didn't recognise anyone, so far at least. She should be safe, she hoped. The safest bet would be to stay inside her cabin, but that would be very suspicious, and could uncover her secret. Taking the risk was worth it. If she was lucky, no one would know she was Stella Ocmare, and things would go on normally.

However, she did have a bad feeling about something. As if she was about to be discovered... so many people here. Something made Stella think it was very likely that someone who knew here would be inside the ship, by the time it set out. Hoping to relax a bit, Stella made her way to the place where drinks were being served. Mainly it was wine, that people drank, but Stella wanted something lighter. In the end, the girl decided to get her favourite kind of sweet water. She asked it to be as cold as possible. After all, cold water was something she always enjoyed, and even more if it was of the sweet kind!

As Stella took a few sips of the water, she smiled to herself. Those were the things that made life good! However, she also kept in mind she had to be careful, so she kept an eye for anyone who would be suspicious.

Day set: Pre-launch
Time set: PM
Location set: Bathes

((Jean))

A black patch in the bathes; the price water paid for cleaning a warrior. It was ironically poetic, but Jean could not appreciate. There were no nobles, of the few aboard most were stained with the same colours as he. The silence was good for Jean; it allowed him to calm down. After the battle he had checked up on the troops; most men had survived and only few were significantly injured. Still battle's consequence was a thought Jean preferred to banish from his head. It was not his army, nor his command, but Jean doubted their captains would come to see them to thank them for their efforts and inform them they had won.

Chanson had taken a bath earlier and she had been directed to their room. Jean had given specific orders and he did not want the girl wandering about the ship. Still she got to see the room before her. Jean had accepted the VIP cabin they had been offered, it would have been mad not to. To let a child sleep amongst strangers was still not an idea that excited him. Jean felt a little disappointed Chanson would get to see the room before him, but he was not yet done for the day.

Jean thought he saw Stella leaving and then heard others enter. He recognised the sound of Micháele his voice and decided he would need to hear Stella's report before facing the nobleman. Jean headed towards the cold water to close his pores and skipped the final bath. In his mind, he made a quick list of things that needed to be taken care of before he would allow himself to sleep;

Hear Stella's report.
Check up on Hercule.
Check up on Solstice.

There were many more things that required his attention, but not as immediately. This mission would be harder work than Jean had hoped for. He knew nothing about space, astronomy and little about the inner workings of the ship, those were interests he thought that would have kept him busy.

Now that he had lost sight of Stella's location (Jean had no idea where she and Solstice were positioned in the ship), the easiest to find would no doubt be Hercule. Jean did not spend much time in his quarters, where he found Chanson asleep. Silently he looked for clothes. After he had found something to wear, Jean quickly headed to the stairs that went up to the flight deck.


Location set: Flight deck

Hercule was sleeping peacefully too, and upon inspection he was not suffering any injuries. Jean was relieved. It would have been bad if Hercule would have had wounds while flying through the ash-filled skies. Not far from Hercule was Crya, devouring what seemed to have one been a rat. Ritualists had gathered on the flight deck and were preparing a ceremony. Jean figured that if Crya was the only one eating, Sol must not have left too long ago. He inquired for the woman.


Location set: Military Quarters

Not too long after asking, Jean found Sol trying to navigate through the quarters. “Hold on, lady Solstice.”

He caught up with the sky-fighter, and began to think of a way to formulate his questions. He did not know Sol well, but when dealing with a woman known for being impulsive and violent, Jean had to see to it she wouldn't attempt anything... Unexpected. Yet he couldn't help but harbour worries over the things Sol held grudges.

“We have fought well. We suffered no more than minor losses. The town and mission are no longer in danger. The mission is no longer endangered.” Jean began, as he had already done many times in the past hours. It was only half a truth at the time, Jean hoped Stella would seen have taken care the other half soon.

“A reason we fought well was greatly because of unity, I'm sure you are aware of its importance in battle. However we are now aboard a ship, not in service of an organised division. Our numbers will slim considerably as we take off. This itself is not an issue I worry about. What worries me is our unity. The smaller a group, the more significant a conflict between it's members. Do you understand where I am going, lady Solstice?”

Jean stopped speaking to hear Sol's answer. It was not going to be easy, of this he was aware. Jean hoped Sol would be understanding of the matter at hand... This responsibility did not befit him.

“I want you to leave lord Micháele to me. I must attend all meetings, however you are not obliged to. I cannot forbid you from joining them, of course, but if possible I want you to avoid our commander and inform me of any... Advances he might make. What happened today was unacceptable. Any action you take towards him, he can pay you back in tenfold and nobody aboard this ship is authorised to stop him. What I can do is mediate where necessary or attempt to persuade him to stay away from you and the birds, but that is the extent of my power. So please, do consider my words.”

Day set: Pre-launch
Time set: PM

((Stella))

Stella was quite wary, as she sipped on her glass. The cold feeling of the transparent glass she was holding was helping very much, after the bath, but she couldn't help but be quite nervous. After all, there really was a chance to be found out. After a few minutes, she had to force herself to forget about that. She was there to relax. If she was found out, then so be it, but for the time being, she would behave normally.

It was a good idea to keep her mouth shut, though, so Stella concentrated on listening to the nearby conversations. A couple of young men talking about their fancy estates... and about the lovely mistresses they had. Filthy pigs, they were. Stella couldn't stand these kind of men. She would even punch them, if she wasn't 'hiding'; and she didn't like violence, to begin with.

Shortly after, Stella grew bored of the silly stories the two men told each other, and she decided to stand up and walk around the whole place, trying to understand as much as possible the way this place was built. She looked up, and realized it was probably the high ceiling, that gave her the impression that the room was very big, when in fact, it was not that big.

The next conversation Stella listened to was between a woman and a man. Apparently, they had some kind of business together. While business was an important part of belonging to a noble family, Stella found that stuff to be way too boring, and refused to learn about that in depth while she could avoid it. Therefore, she quickly moved on, and kept looking around the room, rather bored. She laughed to herself, as she thought that her bored face probably looked very much like that of the typical noblewoman.

"Excuse me, young lady, may I have this dance?" A mature man, a noble, Stella would say, was extending his hand towards her. What did he think this was, a ball? Stella eyed him, not smiling, for a second. She decided to change her approach, however strange she thought this proposal was, given that the music was too calm to dance, and no one was really dancing anywhere. "I am very much flattered by you, but I will have to refuse, for I am waiting for the arrival of someone who is to meet with me, here." Without giving the man time to answer, she turned around and walked back to where she was sitting before.

It was then, that Stella spotted a man from the militant guild inside the room. She had been waiting for this moment, ever since she had talked to Micháele! She stood up and walked quickly towards him, and was surprised to see he was walking towards her as well. "Lady Oceane! I have been searching for you!!" The man seemed to have been rushing for her. She decided to allow him to speak first. "I have been asked to confirm you survived the last attack. Are you healthy and fine?" The man asked, obviously because it was his duty, but he could already see she was fine.

"Obviously, as you can see, I am perfectly fine, and the battle was won. But be quick, listen to me. You have to make a favour for me. You will go straight away to the highest Militant guild officer we have nearby, and you will request the guild's help to protect the city. It is imperative we do this, as we know it might get attacked again soon. You hear me?" The man nodded, and quickly left the room, rushing once again.


((Ymber))

Ymber was actually quite surprised to see the size of the ship, on the inner side, too. He had thought the walls would be so thick that the useful space inside the ship would be too small. He decided, at first, to walk around a bit, and explore the place. It was a magnificent vessel, that was beyond any doubt. After walking around for a while, and seeing that the place was still rather emtpy -which meant he was one of the first people to get in there-, he decided to go seek his room.


While Ymber walked towards the VIP cabin zone, he walked past some noblemen. A few had recognized him, as the youngest child of the Ocmare family, because he was always flashy, which meant his face was recognized more often than her sister's. Of that he was certainly proud. Why did she like to keep a low profile, anyway? Before finding his place in this ship, he was almost bumped by a man who was running, apparently on a rush. "Be careful, you idiot!" In the end, he found his cabin, in a rather nice zone of the ship, and as soon as he opened the door with the key he had, he was greeted by a really fancy room.

What he saw inside the room made him smile. Just as he wanted it, of course; the room had two windows, from which he could look outside, a very comfortable-looking cot, a rather big armoire, and two armchairs. Ymber regretted not having brought more things, as he now had all that much place. What a shame, indeed, but he had to admit the room was a lot better than he had expected it to be. And it had a washtub and a dressing table, too. It almost seemed like a room that could be found in a noble house. The decoration was not perfect for his tastes, but at least there were some cushions, curtains and especially, carpets.

At first, Ymber thought it was a good idea to get rid of some of the dust he had collected while being outside, taking care of Chanson. Hm, that girl... there was a certain something about her, that made him think of her, even now. He was certainly willing to see her again. Soon, after washing himself up, Ymber decided to go back outside, making sure his clothes were without dust, as well. He then decided to go to the commons, where he expected to meet some interesting people to chat with.

The first thing that could be heard was the music tone of someone who was playing a calm song, but as Ymber approached the place, he started hearing people's voices, as they talked. It wasn't particularly crowded, and he felt relaxed. For some reason, he had been rather annoyed, for a while, but seeing all those noble people here made him feel at ease. He was finally back to where he belonged. He closed his eyes and laughed softly for a moment, as an idea crossed his mind. Why not find a good looking girl to spend some time with? He was not planning on doing anything strange, but, if he could choose a young good looking girl or an old geezer, to talk with, Ymber would always choose the first option. After all, any sane man should do the same, right?

Ymber walked slowly towards the place where the drinks were being served, trying to find a nice looking girl. He could not see anyone, and he began to be pissed off. It was then, that he spotted a a glimpse of a girl with long light brown hair, and pretty expensive-looking clothes. He wanted to get her attention, but she was hurriedly walking away from where he was standing, so he decided against it. She was not worth his time, if she hadn't noticed him. Then, he noticed a man, dressed in an apparently militant guild outfit, approaching the girl, and talking to her. The conversation was short, and the man rushed, afterwards. He only heard something about "Lady Oceane", so that was the young woman he had seen before entering the ship...