Thread: Stranger things.....(Razgriz x Lady Bloody Ava)

Steel, stone, and hammer were working in a full tandem with the weapons and the armor. King Sylvari stood at the front of the circle table laying out plans of where to station small troops and planing out tactics with General Deadrik Mordyval. Another trusted companion of the Kings. Mages dispatched here and there to the surrounding village and near the border. One or two disguised as animals. A rare ability to pull off without a potion. A potion that was not easy to procure. Arrows were made and tips dipped in poison. At one point the King had lost his composure when the topic of necromancy was breached. The forbidden art. That will not be used as long as I breath. You do not burden the dead with your problems. A few words of wisdom from the king as he loomed over the plans to prepare. The Queen worked on procuring the healers and gathering up the rations of herbs and making sure every possible potion that could aid in healing the wounded, was at hand. The less deaths, the better. On both sides, for her. Princess Eola was whisked away to her bed chambers where she had taken her means and her studies. Miss Helena was a bundle of nerves. The young princess had attended Sir Degon's funeral with tears staining her cheeks until the precious girl passed out in the confines of her bed. No one would tell her how her hero figure had come to his demise. Only that he died with honor. The princess had no urge to leave the walls of her chambers, let alone the urge to do her studies. Miss Helena gave the princess her peace and guards were stationed outside of her room with orders to see that she never left the room unattended. She knew something was happening. The atmosphere was crawling with a buzz that meant no good. From her bedchamber port hole window she could hear the castle blacksmith working far more than usual. The sound to stone grinding against metal. The hiss of the hot impressionable steel being soaked in a cold bath. More footsteps sounded down the halls than usual. She had yet to see her father or mother all morning. Miss Helena was antsy with the lessons this morning. She urged the princess of the urgency of her healing spell and the other small magical abilities she possessed. Nothing to major, but there was a theme, Eola notice. All spells were useful for getting out of a bind. Summoning a ball of light, A small flame spell, and the healing spells. Her potion crafting was tested as well. A common poison remedy that word on most, but not all, poisons. Little did she know that a war was to erupt. Queen Araana had even procured an escape route should the worst happen and her daughter needed to flee. Miss Helena soon came back with a tray of foods for the princess. The plump woman was no fool. The young ones thoughts were clearly elsewhere and she still mourned Sir Degon's death. Princess Sylvari, care to snack while I teach you how to make a potion that erases pain? That peaked Eola's curiosity, and she was hungry. Now, it only works for a certain amount of time, and that time can very upon the potency and how well the potion was made. It could last from a measly ten minutes to days. Come.... eat and I'll show you. King Otho stood around the table occupied with the council with General Mordyval at his side. Black Briar should be back soon, he was sent to see to the mages and what enchantments they could put upon the armor or weapons. A time consuming endeavor for even one sword. The brawny golden haired general nodded his head and rubbed the scruff of his bearded chin as blue eyes roamed the may upon the table. And time is something we must assume we have little of. Deadrik, take the men out and leave half behind. Both entrances to the city are sealed off should, may the heavens forbid, they manage to make it through the outer village. A chainmaile tunic adorned the brawny elf's torso. A sword and its hilt attached to his belt with thick boots upon his feel. Short golden tresses pulled back and tied for security. Fetch my armor. The general spoke in a deep voice to the squire assigned to him who scurried off. King Otho embrace his general and friend in a hug that only lasted a moment. Come back in one piece Deadrik, send me word as often as possible. Yes, my King. Deadrik headed off to adorned his armor. Nothing too posh, but the cloak draped about his shoulders and the special visor signifying him as the general of the elven kingdom of Otmar. Deadrik and the king had fought, not moments ago within the person studies, from prying ears. King Otho was damned if he did not join his men upon the battlefield, but the General insisted otherwise. He had a Queen and a daughter and village to protects. Alot of damn good it would do with the King buried six feet under. King Otho was still sketchy about his decision, but Deadrik wasted no time in fulfilling his orders and mounting up and heading to the border.