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Athelia Nelmos

The Outcast

0 · 808 views · located in The Three Realms

a character in “...by leave of the King”, as played by xNocturnax

Description

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ImageAliasx // xAthelii, Traitor,

Age
x // x202. Mortally appears in 20s

Genderx // xFemale

Speciesx // xElf

Classx // xMage Conjurer

Sexualityx // xHeterosexual

Originx // xAvalon

Rolex // xGuard


APPEARANCE

Image{Height}
5'5". Considered short for an elvish woman.

{Weight}
119lbs. Her build is nothing standoutish. It is slim and agile.

{Eyes}
Blue/Green

{Hair}
Silver white long hair.

{Full Appearance}
Athelia's pale and flawless skin tone is near to her hair color, though pinched with slightly more complexion and shade. Together, her hair and skin accent her dark lashes and blue expressive eyes flecked with green. Beyond that, the point of her ears are usually borrowed beneath her hair she could almost look human. While she is as light as a feather, she possesses small yet distinguishing feminine curves and has long since abandoned the silk and wealthy colors and robes of elves.


PERSONALITY

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Athelia is a gentle soul, and it takes a lot to get a rise from her. In fact she is so gentle and open that it could be considered a fault and her compassion misplaced on the prisoners. Many might not see the tender side to her due to her reservation but given her living situation and current role among Ilyos, she figures it’s best to keep her head down. Oblige and honour her duties but not to make a scene of herself. However, it's also best not to generalize her as meek. Many assume if she's not some elf with a superiority complex, she is a timid elf-child but in Athelia there is a fine establishment between meek and reservation. She knows when to stand her ground and make her own decisions and is not afraid to have and use her voice.

Athelia is accustomed to being judged, not to say it doesn't always phase her, folks tend to come up with new venomous ways to approach and whisper about her, however it has shaped her resilience as well as the ability to turn her emotions to stone. After all, the judgement that can precede her often comes at their own disadvantage and it is no use feeding them. At the same time however, she would hate to die believed as a traitor and somebody untrue.

Part of how she is so resilient and willful is because, in fact, she is true to herself and knows who she is. And that happened to be an elf that could not execute the human King and chose to save him instead. She'd do the momentous act again if she had to despite the generations of distrust and ingratitude that followed. While it can prove tedious, Athelia moves through the motions with the skeptical ones. Whereas, if anyone were to be genuinely nice, she would be very taking to their unique warm personality. In that sense she can be child-like, keen for friendship and consideration after (mostly) lonely years in Ilyos, watching people fade to death and a new generation take over again.



SKILLS/FLAWS

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{STRENGTHS/SKILLS}
✦ c o n j u r a t i o n: Athelia is gifted and has almost mastered the art that is conjuration magic.
✧ w i l l p o w e r: Athelia stands by her own beliefs and core values in the end. Her will is one that can not be so easily crushed.
✧ u n d e r e s t i m a t e d: Playing to others faults, this often works to be a great advantage to Athelia. Many do not know her gifts, after all, it is all in their heads, and her minions and weapons pre-equipped.

{WEAKNESSES/FLAWS}
✦ s t r e n g t h: When it comes to close quarters and brute strength, Athelia is easily overpowered.
✧ c o m p a s s i o n: Her big heart could very well be her own demise. She is weak for those that have been deprived, suffered injustice or are weaker than herself.
✦ p o w e r s: Implanting visions, thoughts and sounds in another's head is obviously very personal and delicate. A faulty trait or appearance could occur or nothing at all if her concentration is not committed.

{FEARS}
✦ b e t r a y a l: With emotions high and for the likes of an elf, anything is possible. She fears those she walks among will pounce and attack so suddenly she will have no chance of defense and simply endure pummeling, abandonment or death.
✧ i m p r i s o n m e n t: Being free-spirited, robbing her of the sun and air and limiting her will would be nightmarish. Yet, she awaits the day.


HISTORY

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Athelia once was a desperate people pleaser, vying for attention to move up in the ranks of elves and be noticed among her kind. Be noticed more than a child anyway and prove her family wrong. Their belief was she would be of little use and value to the royal family and nobles like they were, then some exotic tale or highly regarded role would entail. But Athelia was one to seize an opportune moment much to the dismay and embarrassment of her family. In her circumstance it meant undertaking a special mission by orders of the Kings hand. She and a small group of others were sent to scout Ilyos, assassinate and rid defensive foes if the opportunity presented, and with their forces weakened send word to Avalon that the human King and his crown were ready for requisition. However their plan did not go so accordingly. Managing to get as far as the bridge, the King and his guards were oncoming.
The elves drew their swords and bows, readied their magic and the King and his guards drew their weapons. With advisement to retreat, the King refused and fought valiantly by his men. Athelia noticed that the humans worked as a unit and fought with might, emotion and will, while the elves moved more independently and analytically as individuals.
There was something admirable in the way the humans showed their loyalty and fought though the elves appeared to out-technique them. With the King down on a knee clutching his side, a blade was due for his head and Athelia instinctively intervened. A fellow elf then thought to kick him from the bridge so he may plummet to his death and Athelia cast an illusion sending her two elf companions off the sides instead. The human King locked eyes with her immediately, the same time arms seized her but before harm could come to her, he ordered they release her. The King never kept her in chains, nor interrogated her but introduced her to their customs before she was able to sit among the nobles. Despite the word spreading that she had saved the King, she was believed as either a trophy or a personal whore, though the King never laid hands on her and was most respectful. In turn this spread to his guards and nobles and trust grew, but she needed a role among Ilyos and the King himself suggested "why not a guard? You've already saved my life."

But that seemed long ago, generations have passed, times have changed and the skeptics are reborn. Generally the royal bloodline have carried that embedded honor and acceptance of their prior father's wishes, keeping her assigned as guard which she has appreciated.

Some believe she is a dedicated spy; Elves of Avalon and Ilyos's citizens, mastering patience and composure in her years of living. Some believe she is a true traitor to the elves' cause and therefore cannot be trusted amoung their own. Fewer believe she is there of will with no ill intention.



HEX:#7663a0

So begins...

Athelia Nelmos's Story

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Bayard Volström Character Portrait: Phaedra Raephen Character Portrait: Varric Dalgaard Character Portrait: Theon Mercier Character Portrait: Avila Baravond Character Portrait: Ottaric Drengsorn Character Portrait: Erik Measborn Character Portrait: Aedan Tylarro Character Portrait: Asa Ilriane Character Portrait: Maedoc Thibault Character Portrait: Athelia Nelmos Character Portrait: Ephra Rouden Character Portrait: Helena Bigge Character Portrait: Thorund Kilhig Character Portrait: Erynion Reyyarus Character Portrait: Thadhrion Gaethdal
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#, as written by mjolnir
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bayard volström
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
bearx|xhumanx|xknight warrior
#8BA3A6x|xattire

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varric dalgaard
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
ravagerx|xdwarfx|xbandit rogue
#960F16x|xattire

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phaedra raephen
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
thalinx|xelfx|xassassin rogue
#B1AECBx|xattire


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Every day had seemed like the last for months in Ilyos. Not that Bayard minded, he liked the lull in action. It wasn't often that he had to be on his toes. Most of the Ilyosie never caused much trouble aside from the occasional drunken brawl. And what people who decided to break laws beyond that would spend the remainder of their now shortened lives in the dungeons. Of course, there was always something to do for the knights of the King's Guard, especially the Captain. But that day it seemed all that was needed was patrolling, if you could even call it that. It wasn't often that patrolling guards had to do much of anything, other than escort drunks home or help find children that stay out later than their curfew.

Bayard strolled slowly along the west bridge, making his way away from the keep. He didn't particularly have a destination in mind, but his feet always seemed to guide him to the same place. The docks. His left hand rested on the hilt of his sword, as the heels of his boots clicked quietly upon the stone walk way. He smiled and nodded his head toward people who passed by. With his attention focused on the gently rolling tide that lapped against the docked boats, Bayard didn't realize the sound of tiny feet pitter pattering up to him.

"Bay!" The small voiced sang from behind him as her little hand tugged on the hem of his shirt.

He couldn't fight the smile that crept across his face. Bayard quickly reached down, and scooped up the young Penelope. He spun her around playfully, before raising her up so that she could sit on his shoulders. The bubbly blonde giggled the entire time as Bayard held her hands and spun around with her on his shoulders. "And how is my favorite girl today?"

Penelope laughed happily, holding tight to his thumbs. "I brought you something!"

"Oh you did?" Bayard moved his hands to gently hold her feet as she wiggled on his shoulders. "Careful," he laughed, making sure she didn't fall as she squirmed.

After a moment or two of her moving around, Penelope's small hand shoved something into his face. "I made this for you."

"Wow," he said leaning his head back to try and see the gift. Her little arms held it so close to his face that it tickled his nose almost making him sneeze.

"It's a necklace!"

"I knew that," Bayard fibbed, just then finally seeing the small blue flowers tied together by their stems.

"It'll match your feather," she said as she tried her best to put the necklace over his head. Bayard raised his right hand and helped her get it over his head without breaking it. Penelope then grabbed his hair and pulled it up and over the chain of flowers. "Do you still have your feather I gave you?" she asked as her fingers started digging through his brunette locks.

"Of course I do," he said. Bayard reached his left hand behind his ear, after moment or two he found a deep blue feather that was fastened to a braid in his hair. Penelope instantly giggled when she saw it, running her finger tips over it.

Penelope sighed contently as she rested her cheek upon the top of his head. Her right hand continuously brushing the blue feather. Bayard adjusted her on his shoulders slightly before continuing walking toward the docks. "Hey, Bay?"

"Yeah?"

"The next time you go out on one of your adventures... Can you bring me back a feather too?" She leaned forward, looking down at Bayard. Her little hands grabbed the side of his face, tilting his head back so he could look up at her. Penelope's plump little face framed by her blonde curls.

Bayard descended the wooden stairs that lead down to the King's naval fleet. "Purple!" she chirped. Before he could respond, Penelope bounced on his shoulders with excitement seeing where they were. "What are we doing here?" she teased, as if she didn't already know.

"Visiting a friend," Bayard answered as they neared the ramp that lead to the ship. If he didn't hurry and get Penelope off his shoulders, she probably would have jumped off. He lowered her down to the ground and the second her feet touched the dock, she took off in a sprint. "Careful!" he called after her as she ran up the ramp to the ship.

"Aedan!" Penelope called out when she reached the deck of the ship.

Bayard followed her up the ramp slowly, not nearly in the rush that she was. He raised his hand, knocking his knuckles against the ships railing. "Knock, knock. Permission to come aboard?" He called out toward Aedan, even though he couldn't see him. Penelope continued to run around and search for Aedan furiously.

Just before he stepped onboard, he heard someone clear their throat from behind him. Bayard pivoted on his heels, turning around to face the culprit. Standing below him on the dock was King Guardsman Percy. "Sir Volström," he greeted with a bow. No matter how much he heard it, Bayard hasn't gotten used to the titles and treatments that came with being Captain of the guard.

"Percy," he replied. Bayard glanced over his shoulder toward Penelope, making sure she was in sight and ok. Then he descended down the ramp until he was face to face with the man. "Is there something you need?"

"The King requests your presence immediately, Sir. Along with Captain Tylarro."

Bayard sighed. Of course, a quiet day couldn't last forever. It never did. He glanced back over his shoulder toward the ship. "Aedan... Penelope," he called out to them, before turning his attention back to Percy. "What's wrong? Is the King ok?"

"Yes, of course, Sir. Sorry, I did not mean to worry you. Just following orders." Percy held out a rolled up piece of parchment that held his orders along with the seal of the king. "I've just been told he requests both of you, presently. He has sent messengers to gather you, Captain Tylarro, Ottaric Drengsorn, Athelia Nelmos and Helena Bigge. And that you shall head to the dungeons to meet him, immediately. I apologize, I do not know anything. Just that it is urgent."

Bayard raised his right hand, scratching at his beard. After a moment, he nodded his head toward Percy. He then turned toward Penelope who came running down the ramp to him. Bay squatted down so that he was more at her level. "Hey," he smiled, taking her hands in his. "I have to go. Percy here is going to take you back to the home. I'm sure Madame Charlotte is worried sick about you." He gave her a slight smile, playfully tugging at her hands.

Penelope frowned. "You always have to go."

"I know," he sighed softly, pulling her in for a hug. "How about this... When I'm done, I'll stop by and tell you all another story about Aedan and my's adventures. Deal?"

She quickly perked up, a smile growing upon her face. "Ok!"

Bayard stood up and walked Penelope over toward Percy. He took her little hand and held it out to the guard. "Straight to the orphanage, Percy. And you," he pointed down at the little blonde. "Don't hurt Percy too much. He's fragile." He laughed and patted the guard on the shoulder as he walked away with Penelope in tow.

Once alone, Bay looked over at Aedan, nodding his head in the direction of the keep. "We've been summoned," he said with a roll of his eyes. Although meeting in the dungeons was new territory, he didn't expect anything of it. It seemed anymore that every time they were summoned it was because of something irrelevant. But alas, they had to answer the call.

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The dungeon was dark, cold and wet. It didn't matter the time of year, or the weather outside, it never changed. The waterfall that surrounded the cells kept everything in the perpetual state of uncomfortable dampness. Instead of eery silences, the sounds of dripping and rushing water echoed throughout the handful of cells. Five cells total made up the small dungeon. It comes as no surprise in regards to the reputation of how Ilyos deals with their prisoners.

It could be argued that Phaedra was put in the worst cell of the dungeon, if there was such a cell. It seemed the waterfall tended to slip into this cell more than the others and she didn't know any better, it looked to be open to the heart of the falls. She sat with her back against the left wall, her legs stretched out before her and her ankles crossed. With a sigh, she let her head slowly lean back until it was resting upon the wall.

Her gaze did not falter from Thadhrion who shared the cell with Phaedra, sitting across from her. She didn't let a single emotion wash over her face. Instead, her jaw was clenched and eyes squinted in deep thought... Or potentially trying to smite him with her mind. But smiting didn't seem like a realistic option. As she stared, she couldn't help her foot tapping. Her nostrils seemed to flare with every breath like she was just waiting... Waiting for her top to blow or the words to finally form sentences in her mind.

A large drop of water fell from the ceiling, landing right in the center of her forehead. Phaedra growled out of frustration, wiping the water from her head. She pushed off the ground, quickly moving to her feet. Before she knew it, she was pacing around the small cell, walking back and forth from one side to the other. It seemed as though the more she walked, the more claustrophobic she got in the cell. Her hands quickly tore her scarf from out her neck and threw it at Thadhrion.

"Do you have any idea what you've done!?" And there it was. Phaedra's anger finally boiled over and formed words. Words that lashed out from her lips like a whip toward the elf in her cell. "If you would have just listened to me, we wouldn't be here!" She stormed over to him, snatching her scarf up from his lap. "I told you not to follow me. To leave, and forget about me. I am not who you think I am." She stared down at him. "Phaedra is dead," she hissed at him under her breath so only he could hear.

Phaedra walked over to the iron bars that faced out to the other cells. She raised her hands to grab them until her knuckles went white. Her head fell forward until her forehead was pressed to the cold metal. "You ruined... Everything. Mercier would be dead if you would have just let me be." She sighed, tapping her finger tips against the bars.

To say that Phaedra was livid was an understatement. Not once had a target slipped through her fingers. There was a reason she had the reputation she did. But then Thadhrion just had to show. He belonged in Avalon, far far away from her. If he would have just let her be, she'd have the King's head and be on her way to redemption. Now she'd most likely see the end of her days from inside that miserable damp cell. To say she wasn't tempted to jump out the hole and let the waterfall take her would be a lie. But she didn't. She simply stood there, grasping the iron bars like they were the king's throat, refusing to turn around and face Thadhrion.

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Unlike many of the prisoners, Varric didn't see his time in the dungeons as the end of everything. He has spent more than his fair share of time in cells throughout Xalterra and this was no different. There was just a lack of a wall and some water. No big deal. He didn't even mind it, aside from being wet all the time. His fingers had been prunes for days by that point. It was annoying but not intolerable. Varric spent most of his time trying to run through different escape ideas. Most seemed fairly improbable or unsuccessful if attempted, but that didn't mean if he were given the opportunity that he wouldn't try.

He laid with his back on the ground, far beyond caring about what parts of him were in puddles or being dripped on. Varric didn't even seem to mind the rats that scurried in every once in awhile. His short legs were stretched up along the wall and his arms crossed over his chest. On more than one occasion he found himself eaves dropping on the other prisoners in the different cells. He was particularly interested in Thalin. In all the years that he had known the woman, not once had she been captured or failed to kill a target. Interesting that when it came to this one particular kill... A King no less, that she failed. Varric couldn't help but wonder if it was a case of morals, a miss calculation, if she was outnumbered by guards... But as he heard her yelling from across the dungeons, it sounded more like whomever the frosty headed elf was played some part in her failure.

Varric sighed, swinging his legs from the wall and shifting so that he was sitting up. He ran his hands back through his hair and scratched his scalp as he sized up his cell partner. He couldn't fight the urge to smile at the fiery headed elf. Asa was definitely attractive. And the fact that she was a pirate elf just added to her appeal. After all, there was a reason he sought her out on more than one occasion when he needed someone with a ship. There was always something about a strong woman that got him going, and the fact that she seemed thoroughly uninterested only made it more fun.

"So, Red." Varric rested his head back against the wall. He entangled his fingers and then rested his hands in his lap. "What got you down here?" He cocked his head to the side slightly. "Because if it was my fault, I'd say I owe you a drink when we get out of here." Varric flashed her a sly smirk. "And if it was her fault, he continued, pointing at Thalin who stood in the cell across from them, staring right at him. "I guess that means I'd have to kill her."

From across the dungeon, Thalin laughed a could and emotionless laugh. "Oh, please,"she said with a roll of her eyes. "Could you even reach me?" She slid her arms through the gaps in the iron bars, letting her arms hang as she stared at him. She raised a threatening brow toward him.

"Is that a Dwarf joke?" Varric faked being offended, pressing his hand to his chest in shock. "I think that was a Dwarf joke," he said toward Asa.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Athelia Nelmos
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xxxAthelia Nelmos | Elf Mage Conjurer
Image Long growing familiar with the realm of Ilyos, she had developed a space away from accusing or at least skeptical eyes, where she just came to think or day dream when time allowed. Sometimes it would be no more than an escape.

Such a time was upon her and she was watching the current where it was most gentle. Athelia never liked to be confined by walls and darkness and deep inside, the Sky Realm was her home so she sought the openness and fresh air often. Ilyos could be home but generations had since passed when they were hospitable and she felt safe. Now there was so little trust involved. Oathbreakers, malicious folk, or in her case even patriots of the home realm wanting to protect it from 'the taint of elves.' She understood their weariness and drive to protect their home, but she had been in Ilyos before them and had several opportune moments to slay the generations of Kings if she so wished it and she never did.

A simple crunch indicated she was not alone, but she could not admit surprise. Hopeful maybe. Yes, as hopeful she was, she was smart enough to know such solitude and flexibility of an elf wandering Ilyos would not last.

"I have my orders...to tell you the King requests your presence in the dungeons." Athelia's heart dropped. But before she could open her mouth to inquire, he continued, "Along with other guards." The thundering gallop in her chest and dread slowly eased away, half expecting this to be the day they would seize her due to their insecurities ever growing.

First and far-most the duty of the king was to his people. So it was quite plausibile popular demand could propel King Godric Mercier to throw her in the dungeons, and abandon the faith of his grandfather.

She nodded to messenger.

"Immediately, elf."

Athelia turned around to face him in full and she saw him itch towards the hilt of his sword. “I shan’t use my elven footing, it puts Ilyos on edge,” she informed evenly. Though behind her true words, she meant bite.

If he truly expected her to begone in the blink of an eye, he was a fool. That was perhaps what she hated most. The unreasonable demands and accusations that some spat and barked towards her.

Knowing she was right, he offered a snarl before he spun on his heel and marched off. Once he could not be seen or heard, Athelia put a hand over her tight chest. Then shifted her attention to the path and made her way for the dungeons.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Bayard Volström Character Portrait: Phaedra Raephen Character Portrait: Varric Dalgaard Character Portrait: Aedan Tylarro Character Portrait: Asa Ilriane Character Portrait: Maedoc Thibault Character Portrait: Athelia Nelmos
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#, as written by mjolnir
Image

bayard volström
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
bearx|xhumanx|xknight warrior
#8BA3A6x|xattire

Image
Image

varric dalgaard
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
ravagerx|xdwarfx|xbandit rogue
#960F16x|xattire

Image
Image

phaedra raephen
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
thalinx|xelfx|xassassin rogue
#B1AECBx|xattire


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Aedan descended the wooden ramp from the ship and gave Bayard a friendly slap on the back in greeting. "No rest for the wicked, I suppose. Lead the way, Sir Volström." Of course the sailor smirked as he spoke, even finishing his statement with an over the top salute.

Bayard rolled his eyes as he spun around, pivoting on his heels. "Will there ever come a day when you don't do that?" More of a rhetorical question rather than seeking answers. Bay knew Aedan better than most people, and one thing he loved more than others was poking fun at his friends. In particular, Bayard. But, the once nice thing about their friendship was the comfortable silence. So often in the company of others, people felt the need to fill the silences like the quiet deafening. But not for Bayard and Aedan.

Ilyos was the type of place that was never silent, from the breeze that whistled through the homes and sails, to the seagulls that sounded overhead or the waves lapping against the Luna Island coast. Most called this silence, but it was a melody Bayard cherished like a sweet lullaby. He could spend hours sitting outside while the sunset, listening to the cacophony of sounds these lands created.

But it wasn't long before they were walking past more and more people, and the sounds of the nature around then fell silent upon the bustle of the populated streets. While people snaked their way around moving to their homes, shops or taverns, Bayard let his steps fall in sync with Aedan's. "I can't help but wonder why we've been summoned to the dungeon, of all places," he said, leaning his head toward his friend slightly. "Maybe the king intends on making you the royal executioner," he added with a smirk and a raise of his brow.

It seemed the closer they got to the keep, the more people crowded the streets, not that this was anything new. Everyone in Ilyos learned the art of weaving through crowds seamlessly from a young age. If it was an emergency, Bayard would have shoved through the people or taken to the rooftops. Since Percy didn't seem like it was a pressing matter, Bay was taking the time to enjoy his stroll to the castle, taking in every moment of freedom before having to listen to whatever orders the King had.

Bayard adjusted his leather armor as they finally reached the long bridge that lead to the castle's entrance. His mind flipped through the possibilities of why the King could be requesting his presence along with Aedan's. Sure, Bay was called upon for nearly everything, but not Aedan. His job was on the sea, not defending the King. The strangest part was meeting in the dungeons. In all his years that Bayard has been a member of the King's guard, not once has he been summoned to the dungeon's. He wasn't a stranger to them, but the King himself had never been known to step foot down there. After all it was where they kept the traitors, thieves and murderers. It was no place for royalty.

It seemed the closer they moved to the keep, the more sporadic citizens were. It wasn't often that people lingered on the bridges surrounding the castle. More often than not it was guards or those seeking an audience with the King found traversing the bridges. As Bayard got closer toward the entrance, he started to see silver hair amongst a field of brunettes. He glanced over his shoulder toward Aedan, giving him a smirk while nodding his head in the white haired elf's direction. With that, his stepped picked up as he moved ahead of his friend, snaking his way through the crowd toward the woman.

When he reached Athelia's side, Bayard slowed so that he walked in step with her and lightly nudged her shoulder with his arm. "Hello, stranger. I see you have been summoned as well, any idea as to why?" He couldn't help the feeling of eyes on him as he walked with her. Bay raised his head, scanning the crowd until he noticed a few guards walking several paces behind them. "Just a moment," he said while holding up his index finger toward the elf.

He walked to meet the guards, with his arms cross over his chest. Bayard came to a stop before them. Obviously this were newer guards because their names slipped his mind, nor did they seem to know he was or what they were doing. "Leave," was all he said, while making a shooing motion with his hand.

"Excuse me, who do you think—" one of the men started but was cut off by the other smacking him in the chest.

"Do you not know who that is?" the guard hissed under his breath at the man. "Apologies, Sir Volström," he saluted and bowed, evidently nervous, trying not to misstep before the head of the King's guard.

"Why are you here and not at your posts?" Bayard asked. He then scanned the bridge counting at least a dozen guards holding the regular posts on the way to the keep. It was obvious these two were not stationed here, but more than likely were charged to patrol the streets of the common areas. "Looks like there are plenty of guards here."

The guard did a double take, glancing around at the guards positioned on the bridge, then looked back toward Bayard. "We saw the elf, sir... We thought that was..." His voice began to trailed off slowly as he noticed the unamused facial expression on Bay's face. "...Suspicious,"[/color] he concluded with an awkward laugh.

Bayard sighed softly, shaking his head. "That would be Athelia Nelmos... She has been on the King's guard since before you were a twinkle in your mother's eye." The two guards looked at each other, then back at Bay without saying a word. No doubt, they realized they had overstepped... majorly. "Return to your posts, or I'll have words with the King presently."

Without a seconds hesitation, the two men scurried off nearly tripping over each other as they hurried back to the towns. Bayard chuckled slightly, shaking his head as he returned to Athelia's side. He walked with her in silence until they reached the entrance to the keep. Bay stepped ahead of her, holding open the door for her and Aedan, then followed them both inside. "Maybe we should make a spectacle in the middle of town where you save my life all valiant like." He grinned teasingly toward the female elf. "Then maybe these young idiots will be less nervous."

Bayard glanced over his shoulder toward Aedan as they headed through the corridors toward the dungeons. "You could always kill Aedan. No one would miss him." He laughed, smacking Aedan on the shoulder in a teasing manner.

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Phaedra's brow quirk in a very subtle smirk in response to Asa's own, no doubt the both of them getting entertainment from the mouthy dwarf. "Is that a Dwarf joke?" Varric feigned being insulted. "I think that was a Dwarf joke." Phaedra scoffed, rolling her eyes as he complained toward the elf in the cell with him.

"Sounded like a dwarf joke to me." Asa replied as she adjusted where she sat. "I was wondering the same myself, but then I figured, you could probably talk her to death instead."

Phaedra laughed weakly, taking a step back from the iron bars. Her arms slowly sliding back against the metal until her hands rested across the bar. She tapped her thumbs against the cold metal. "I don't quite know what sounds worse... Death by drowning or death by your mouth," she added with a little bite in her words.

She couldn't help herself and her lingering gaze that kept finding its way back to the staircase that lead up to the keep. Phaedra knew if she could make it out of her cell, that she could make it free and clear of the keep. There was always a possibility of death, but she'd prefer to die by the blade rather than be forced off the ledge of a waterfall, drowning to death. One thing she knew for certain, Ilyos was not known to be merciful. Death for criminals was certain and escape was as likely as seeing a dragon rise up from the ocean.

It seemed as though the moment these thoughts crossed her mind, the guards at the base of the stairs stirred before ascending to the keep. Phaedra's brows furrowed as she looked between Asa and the now empty dungeon. It wasn't like there was anywhere they could go, the only way out of the cell was through the falls... But, no doubt it was odd that the guards just up and left them alone in the dungeon.

Varric, for being a talkative seemingly oblivious dwarf, he even noticed the departure of the guards. He quickly moved to his feet and walked up to the iron gate that separated him from the center of the cells. "Did that actually just happen?" He sounded as confused as he looked, glancing between Thalin, Asa and the empty staircase.

Taking the opportunity for himself, Varric quickly started to scan everything at his disposal, hoping for something that could be of use for an escape. Of course, Ilyos didn't get its reputation for no reason, so he was unlucky at finding anything to give him aid. With nothing else to try, Varric turns sideways, and slips his right leg and arm between two of the iron bars. With a grunt, he begins to wiggle and push himself, trying to worm his way through to the other side. He wasn't even halfway through when his broad chest seemed wider than the opening.

Phaedra chuckled, letting her arms slip between vertical bars of her own cell, her elbows resting upon a crossbar. She entangled her fingers, letting her forehead rest against the metal. "You did not actually think your thick dwarven ass would fit through that did you?"

Varric scoffed, retracting back into his cell. He dusted off his clothes before looking back over toward her. "And you think you can do better?" he asked, motioning his right hand toward her.

Phaedra smirked, cocking her head to the side. "Is that a challenge?" She took a step back, patting her hands against the bars as she sized them up. Instead of going for the center, she walked toward one end of her cell. The gap between the iron bar and the rock wall was just slightly larger than that between each bar. With a crack of her neck, she slipped her left leg through and then her hip. Once her shoulder was through, Phaedra squatted, turning her head to the side. She could feel the space feeling tighter as more of her frame tried to squeeze through.

Just as she was halfway through, nearly certain that she might be able to make it, Phaedra heard the door at the top of the stairs open. Her eyes widened. She had merely moments to either escape and prepare to fight or go back in her cell. With one final push, Phae tried to wiggle her way through the bars, but when she realized if she tried any further she'd remain stuck. With a sigh, Phaedra jerked herself free and fell backwards, down on the ground in her cell. After catching her breath, she propped herself up on her elbows, looking toward the stairs expectantly... Wondering who was about to join them.