The Small Town of Bhaltor

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Re: The Small Town of Bhaltor

Post  Bec on Tue Apr 10, 2018 4:32 pm

Her look of seriousness dropped, being replaced instead by a grateful smile. Leaning in close, she wrapped her arms around the dark wolf's neck for a tight hug.

"You're kind, thank you."

It was somewhat hard for her to understand the comment on her beauty, though she would not deny herself the compliment. As for all else his words made sense. Perhaps she had nothing to worry about; she was far from dull to be around, and when one grows up with Archaic for a father of course they're going to have a myriad of interesting facts to share. Trivia and knowledge were a couple of her strongest assets– though since she'd grown up without a formal education they'd likely never be put to good use. At the very least, she had many things to talk about, and that was a good thing. One might be surprised by how much people respect a good conversationalist.

Releasing Emile from her embrace, Spoon shot him a smug grin.

"Y'know, you really should branch outside of our rebellion a little bit. Find yourself a nice lady, drag her into our mess of a family. You're smooth, knowledgeable, handsome and strong. Women'd fall all over you if they saw your human form, or dared to know your brain. Plus it'd be fun to have more women around the camp." She laughed, elbowing his shoulder gently before moving back along. "I'd certainly have fun harassing her about you. Don't think that just because I love you it means I won't embarrass you. I've got a memory on me, thank my parents for that, and I can recall a few times that you've been less than graceful."
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Re: The Small Town of Bhaltor

Post  Agentized on Wed Apr 11, 2018 3:40 am

As the young rebel leaned in for an embrace, he lifted a single huge paw to hook over her shoulder, resting his large head on her opposite shoulder. It was his attempt at reciprocating her embrace in his current and very non-human form. It perhaps seemed awkward from an outsider's perspective, but, it wasn't the first time he'd done it, and he doubted it would be his last.

"I'm just telling the truth. He's lucky to have you." He replied, sliding his paw from her shoulder and lifting his head from her frame.

"Well... I don't know about that... I mean... I guess there's not really a valid reason for me to not look for a 'nice lady' as you put it, but I haven't really thought about it. Eh... companionship is enough for me, I suppose. Although, I guess one could technically find that in a romantic partner too... I'm pretty content with the way things are, would likely be the best way to put it." He tried to answer, but there didn't seem to be a good reason as to why he wasn't looking for a love interest. It wasn't something that was really on his mind or something that he was thinking about-- it was something he hadn't thought about in a long time, not since his pack had been killed all those years ago. He had been affianced to a an unrelated female of the pack at the time of their slaughter; her name had been Aurora. She was gorgeous in either of her forms, with her summer-blonde hair and baby blue eyes. She was kind, gentle, and she had always smelled like flowers. He remembered that he always had wondered why, until he caught her rolling in a patch of a daisies one day. Apparently, while in her more canine form, she had liked finding nearby flower patches and just... rolled in them. It had seemed like such a silly thing at first, but then she convinced him to join her and, to his surprise, well... it had been fun, because she had been with him, giggling and smiling. He missed her, but he had accepted that she was gone, and it was time for him to move on.

"Well, I admit, there have been quite a few times where I have certainly lost my grace." He laughed a little, following after her.

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Re: The Small Town of Bhaltor

Post  Bec on Wed Apr 11, 2018 8:41 am

Spoon couldn't help it as a giggle escaped her, listening to him stammer as he tried to come up with a valid reason not to be looking for a date was humor enough for the day. Nonchalant, she waved her dismissive hand through the air once again.

"You're really making yourself sound more like a dog." She joked.

She supposed she understood, though. It wasn't as if she'd been looking when she found Triton– it had just kind of happened. Being in the midst of an uprising – and growing up in a lake – meant she didn't really have the time to be thinking about relationships when he'd come around. Granted that their revolution was small and hadn't done much in the grand scheme of things, Spoon had been perfectly content with helping the nearby villagers and the uncommon passerby in his travels. That was her entire life outside of training.

The days that they got to travel into town and help clean up messes that the royals wouldn't touch; those were the best days. An older woman, the innkeep's wife, always had the most interesting tasks for her. It was never a dull day when she got to speak with that woman. Perhaps she didn't see her often, or not as often as she'd like, but she'd become somewhat of a grandmother figure to the girl.

"How would you feel about stopping by the tavern or the inn? We could keep an ear out for the local gossip. Who knows who's, maybe someone's spotted another unicorn."

Laughing, she counted it up in her head and... four, there'd been four this month. She couldn't help but shake her head a little bit, wondering why people go to such lengths for attention. Maybe they really were crazy, maybe not. People will believe in anything they've never seen. In any case, listening to the townsfolk talk could always provide a bit of information, useful or otherwise. The rare visit from a bounty hunter was always rise for conversation, for example. Occasionally, they'd even hear of a nonhuman traveler that passed through, or an especially cheap merchant. It was always a good decision to keep an ear out.
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Re: The Small Town of Bhaltor

Post  Agentized on Wed Apr 11, 2018 11:35 am

A small chuckle escaped from him, "Well, it's the role I fill the best, I think." He didn't really seem to mind it, truth be told. It just made life far more simple, far easier. He liked it that way. He was the family pet, and no one on the outside questioned what he was. Wherever he went with anyone, he was always the wolf at their side-- or, rather, "wolf-dog" as anyone in the family described him to people, since owning an actual wolf was both highly unlikely and illegal. Plus, calling him a wolf-dog seemed to help cover any suspicions as to what he might be. However, for that very reason, he never travelled into the towns alone, not even in his human form. His silver eyes were distinct enough to make anyone question, even if he wasn't travelling with the same people "the wolf-dog" is normally with. He was well enough known by the locals at this point-- perhaps too much so.

"Mm, sounds like a good idea." He agreed, looking over and up at her with a slight nod. Her comment made him wonder if there was any merit to the claims of the townsfolk at all. Even as old as he was, he'd never seen a unicorn in his entire life. But, on the other hand, it had been years since anyone had seen dragons before Ashe, son of the Queen and the Commander of her entire army, had stumbled upon two, and brought five into the world. So, he supposed that it was possible some were out there, evading the sight of many but a small handful of people. However, it didn't really help their merit that a lot of people seemed to be stating the same story of seeing the same illusive unicorn. It had probably started as a rumor, and now everyone was picking it up and trying to make it something to grab the attention of anyone who might listen. Whatever the case, truth or fiction, they weren't about to go out unicorn watching. They had more important things to do, like acquiring any news about the capital and the Crown. Or even just hearing about interesting passerbys.

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Re: The Small Town of Bhaltor

Post  Bec on Wed Apr 11, 2018 12:10 pm

For the most part, Spoon kept at a leisurely pace. Nothing in the town was too important to rush. She was near certain that Triton would hear of her venture into the village and come looking for her, so she'd enjoy her alone time with Emile while it lasted.

That wasn't to say she didn't want to see Triton; she did. It was simply that she wasn't ready for so much attention. The forest was quiet and peaceful, and relaxation came easily. Compared to the looks she'd get in town– she preferred the quiet. Noble girls would scoff and gossip clear within earshot, meanwhile others would gawk in awe to see the royal's sweetheart walking idly among the streets as a common peasant. It was deafening. Even still, she wouldn't allow a day to pass without making some use of her time. Tomorrow she'd train, and the day after that perhaps she'd come back to gather even more local gossip. One might assume Triton to give her all the information she'd need, but he only cared for the affairs of nobles. He wouldn't speak to her of strange visitors or bar scuffles.

About an hour had passed them by, dipping the sun into late afternoon as they arrived. Once again she was met with uncomfortable stares and disgruntled mumbles. She could ignore it. Making her way through the hustle and bustle of the streets, she decided they'd venture to her favorite spot. The Black Ant Inn, named aptly for the large insects that plagued the place. Walking through the door, she couldn't help but grin as she was greeted by a familiar face. She took an excited seat at the bar.

"Hello dear," the elder woman's voice carried like sandpaper, "nice of you to stop in. You look well!"

She paused, looking to Emile and frowning. Turning her attention back to Spoon, she shook a stern finger. "Now girl, you know there are no dogs allowed in here."

... They laughed. Ora was her name, and no one struck a chord with Spoon quite like her. Not outside of the rebellion anyway. Spoon was liable to stay here and talk with her for hours on end, listening to the stories of her youth and watching her scold drunkards and swindlers as they attempted to muck up her business.

"What's the latest from you, Ora? Anything interesting happen around town?"

The innkeep began to think. "Well, yesterday we had a bit of an incident with the local bard. Some fella came in and said he could topple his act right over. Whole dispute ended up with a broken lute and a lot of spilled mead." She snickered, clearly amused. "Though I'm sure you're not askin' about civil disagreements. I 'aven't seen any newcomers lately save for him. No unicorns, no merchants, nothin'. Stay for a while, won't ya? I'll get you a drink."

Pulling out her coin-pouch, Spoon set a few copper down on the bar as Ora went to fetch her beverage. She reached down, scratching Emile's head as she did so. "Month's about over. Guess it's just four, then." she murmured, concealing her entertainment behind bent arm. "Let me know if you hear anything interesting."
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Re: The Small Town of Bhaltor

Post  Agentized on Sat Apr 21, 2018 11:41 pm

Emile kept up with the young woman easily-- her pace was fast enough to get them to the town within an hour, but it wasn't a rush or a sprint. It gave them a chance to be quiet, enjoy the nature, and just think for a little while. It was something they both needed before reaching the village. Once they had, the noises, sounds, and smells picked up. As did the looks, stares, and gossip. It was nothing like any of the major cities where there were people everywhere, all the time, always talking, always doing something, but it was still certainly crowded and busy compared to their own little complex back in the lake bed. Nevertheless, it never ceased to put Emile on edge every time he set foot-- or paw-- into the town. Logically, he knew he had little to worry or fear about. As long as he stuck near Spoon and acted natural, everything was fine. However, he could never shake that annoying 'what if' from the back of his mind. He never let it get in the way of playing the role of 'family dog', but sometimes... it was hard.

Even before they'd reach the street that the establishment resided on, he knew where they were going. They had travelled that exact route hundreds of times before; it was no secret that The Black Ant was probably Spoon's favorite place in the entirety of the town. With good reason-- many locals frequented the building, particularly in the later hours of the day. After a hard days' work, they'd come to the Inn to relax and have some drinks, or to flat out get completely drunk. It was these people that tended to blabber and open their mouth about affairs around the town, or even things they'd heard about the cities, nobles, or the Crown. It was a wealth of information, and Ora, the innkeep, had always taken a liking to the young rebel woman. Whenever Spoon came around, Ora was always more than happy to fill her in on the latest gossip and information that was often overheard throughout her typical day.

When they entered the Inn, Emile stuck close to Spoon in the slightly crowded space, following her up to the bar. Of course, the young woman was greeted happily by the older innkeep, who looked at him with mock disapproval before the two of them burst into laughter. The large wolf whined, jumping up and placing his two front paws on the bar-top, refusing to get down until the older lady gave him a satisfactory pat on the head. He then removed his paws from the top, lying down next to Spoon's stool. His eyes scanned the bar as she spoke to Ora, not spotting anything interesting or out of the ordinary. He looked up as Spoon reached down to scratch his head, giving a slight bob with his muzzle when she'd finished speaking. It was subtle, unnoticeable unless to the trained eye, but he knew she would see it. They had done this hundreds of times before.

It was perhaps one of the few instances where he would stop paying any attention to whatever Spoon was saying or doing. If there was anything important she needed to say to him or she needed him to do, then she could always reach down to give him a pat or a nudge to grab his attention. Otherwise, he needed focus to pay attention to the conversations and actions going on around them. As he tuned in to all the conversations being had, there was little that seemed to keep his interest for long. Just talks about how crops were coming along, purchases of new equipment or livestock. Someone managed to buy a pretty decent horse for a bargain... it was probably stolen and sold for some quick coin, but that wasn't his problem to solve.

However, it was then that his ears picked up something through all the noise, from the outside of the establishment. It was the sound of approaching hoofbeats. It wasn't the most unusual thing for the town to have people travelling in and out of it, but at this time of day... it was a little odd. The hoofbeats slowed and came to a stop, and a distinguished, heavy thud hit the dirt. After a quick exchange of words, footfalls made their way to the door, which soon after creaked open. Emile shifted his gaze to the wooden door, a little taken off guard by the tall, young male with ashen black hair and blue eyes that stood in its frame. He was clad in a full suit of armor minus a helmet, silver in colour though a bit dusty from a long ride. A light, powder blue cloak hung from the back of his armor, and a sword in its sheath was belted to his side; a small satchel of coins hung there too. It was a unique blade-- the handle and pommel were made of gold, and fashioned into a dragon with rubies for eyes.

It was Ashe, son of Queen Andaria and Commander of the Valkarian army. But what was he doing all the way out here? He usually stayed close to the capital unless sent on missions directly from the Queen herself. From what it looked like, he seemed to be alone. He approached the counter of the bar with long, quick strides, casually taking a seat a couple stools down from Emile and Spoon. The wolf looked up at his counterpart with a bit of a quizzical stare; he was sure she would find it odd, too, and would most likely be on guard.

"If you wouldn't mind, ma'am, might I get a place to stay and a couple drinks please?" The young male asked, removing the small satchel of coins from his waist and digging out a few of the silver and gold coins from within, setting them on the counter.

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Re: The Small Town of Bhaltor

Post  Bec on Sun Apr 22, 2018 11:34 am

It was hard to avoid the shining beacon of armor as it walked in, its nobility illuminated in every glass and set of eyes that gaze upon it. This was the youngest child of the Tyrant Queen; Ashe Undarre, the only heir. But… why? She couldn’t answer that question herself, it was too odd for her brain to comprehend it. Not even Triton ventured out this far, and he was far less important.

Spoon's eyes glassed over, his every movement shining through them as he approached. Ora turned into a completely different person. She hurriedly slid the girl’s drink over to her, giving the prince a frazzled curtsy as she prepared his drink.

This… irked her. The elder bartend had always been a very no-nonsense woman, caring not for the high-and-mighty knights that made their way here from the Crown. Men and women alike would come here to make themselves into fools. They’d act as if they were above the inkeep’s meek wife. They’d try to cheap her, or threaten her, and they all ended up the same— on their asses in the street. Now… she was scrambling like a discovered rat, scatterbrained and afraid of failure before a predator.

It was pathetic! This was the woman that’d tell her rumors of Triton, and laughed a hardy laugh when she learned they were in relations. Now she was all ‘yes ser’s and ‘of course, your majesty’s. Spoon’s nose crinkled up in disgust. This ‘Heir to the Crown’ was making her head ache.

She slammed down her drink without a second thought, glancing briefly at the gap between her and the prince. A smug grin gleaned across her face. She wasn’t going to get answers by sitting here in her pissed stupor.

Gesturing Emile to heel, she stood and made her way to the seat beside ’His Royal Majesty’. Despite her gruff look and one drink down, she carried herself with the confidence of a noble herself. It was a stride she’d learned from Triton’s mother.

“Excuse me, Ser, but are you a bit lost?” She chuckled, taking pause to let him act incredulous before continuing, “The Nobility is Northeast of here. Surely you didn’t come all this way for a simple drink made by our own old Ora here, did you?”

She gestured to the old woman halfheartedly, paying no mind to her expression of protest as she sat. Ora had all the time in the world to scold her later, and Spoon would do the same to her. “To sit amongst the townsfolk and drink their peasant swill with them as if you’re a commoner...”

No longer able to contain her lack of amusement, she snorted, ordering a second drink from the dizzied inkeep.

“They’d get a kick out of you, you know. The nobles of this region. Behind your back you’ll be a made a mockery of. I’m sure you could spin it, though, as a display of your power to instill fear back into the masses. It’s not as if this province hasn’t been plagued by petty executions by thrown eggs. But I’m sure you know all about that. So, tell me Prince, for what have you come here?”

Tracing the rim of her new glass, she tuned in to the irritated crowd behind her.

Her display of disrespect was causing a stir, though she cared little. If a fight were to occur, she’d manage to escape with her life. That was her confidence, and with it she kept herself relaxed and focused on only the blue of Prince Undarre’s eyes. Pretty eyes. Kind eyes. She stopped herself there.
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Re: The Small Town of Bhaltor

Post  Agentized on Sun Apr 22, 2018 1:50 pm

The Prince's eyes observed the older woman as she scrambled to get him a drink. He would have let out a sigh if only it wouldn't have sounded rude-- everyone always did this. He hated it. They always thought of him as some extension of his mother, that if they made a little mistake in front of him, it would be the end of their world. In truth, he didn't care. People were human. They made mistakes. He was so focussed on Ora and her scrambling that he'd hardly noticed Spoon and Emile when they'd originally gotten up. However, the approaching footsteps quickly pulled his attention off of the innkeep. He was curious to see what the young woman had to say; luckily, she wasted no time getting to the chase.

“Excuse me, Ser, but are you a bit lost? The Nobility is Northeast of here. Surely you didn’t come all this way for a simple drink made by our own old Ora here, did you?” This time, he let out a small sigh. There it was. It was more of the same. He had honestly learned to just expect it. Every time he ventured out farther than the city, into one of the smaller towns, someone would always ask him the same thing. What was he doing there? Surely he wouldn't be staying among commoners and peasants! So many people simply saw him as the Queen's son or the Heir to the Throne, and they never seemed to remember that he was also the Commander of the Valkarian Army, and therefore upholder of the Queen's Law and peacekeeper. Although, he couldn't necessarily blame them... he didn't get away from the city often because his mother wouldn't really let him. She preferred to keep him close... and he preferred to actually do something.

Instead of interjecting or attempting to answer, he let the woman carry on with whatever she wanted to say or ask while he thanked Ora for his drink. While Spoon talked, he took a swig of the drink-- it was one of the better ones he had tasted from one of the smaller towns. He then shifted his gaze to the creature at Spoon's side, and was met with a piercing silver gaze that stared right back at him. There was something oddly human about it. A werewolf, maybe? He'd seen enough of them, but this didn't quite fit. Whatever it was, he thought he heard a low, rumbling growl reached his ears from it, but it was difficult to tell over the commotion that seemed to be going on behind him and growing in rowdiness as she continued to talk. He had half a mind to settle them all down before something happened, but part of him also didn't really care-- if something happened, he'd deal with it. If it didn't, great. When Spoon finished speaking, he paused a moment before answering, finally meeting her gaze.

"Why, my lady, is it not my job to keep the peace throughout Valkaria? The Queen often requests my duties and services, that I cannot help. I must serve Her Majesty. However, when I am able, I still must patrol the province and keep the streets and roads free from crime and terror so that we may all live peacefully. I will do such no matter where I have to stay during the night, or wherever I must get my drinks from. So, let your nobles say as they please about me; while they are sitting and gossiping, I am doing what I must to serve the people of this world as well as upholding the Crown." He answered her, remaining as calm, collected, and polite as a Prince and Heir should.

"Do you have any more questions for me, my lady? I would be more than happy to answer them." He added, slightly turning towards her on his stool in a sort of welcoming position. On one hand, he was trying to be polite. On the other... it very well could have looked and sounded like he was mocking her, with his politeness compared to her impoliteness.

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Re: The Small Town of Bhaltor

Post  Bec on Mon Apr 23, 2018 2:42 pm

“I still must patrol the province and keep the streets and roads free from crime and terror so that we may all live peacefully. I will do such no matter where I have to stay during the night, or wherever I must get my drinks from. So, let your nobles say as they please about me; while they are sitting and gossiping, I am doing what I must to serve the people of this world as well as upholding the Crown."

It couldn’t be helped. A small laugh of disbelief slipped through her smile. This was not a prince, this was barely a noble. He sounded more like Archaic than Triton.

Relaxing further, she downed her second drink and leaned back into her seat. Ever inquisitive, she displayed her hope on her sleeve for all the room to see. The chaos seemed to subside a bit at that, Ora exhausting a sigh of relief. ’You always were one for trouble, girl.’ she muttered, taking leave from the bar to wait tables.

“You interest me, Ashe.” She began, playing absentmindedly with her companion’s ears. “That’s not the response I’d expected. Honestly I’m surprised you answered at all. I imagine if I’d said that to a cruel person, you’d have had me strung out by now.”

Finally sitting straight once more, she extended a hand to shake with her newfound information broker.

“Don’t refer to me as ‘my lady,’ please. I get enough of that from House [Triton]. My name is Spoon. Just Spoon. I am curious, though. Why choose here over the palace? Surely they’d have accommodated you just fine.”

She held her enthusiasm in her throat, unwilling to let it slip past her teeth. Perhaps this man was like her, and had a distaste for the finer things. Triton was a noble, sure, but he was not necessarily unkind. Though he could be stuck up for sure, he was never cruel. Was it so far-fetched to think that the son of Andaria may be unlike her as well?

A slap on the wrist caused her to recoil from her companion’s head.

“Owwww. What was-”

“Girl, don’t you be thinkin’ of taking away this good business.”

Ora wagged her finger, seeming in good spirits. “A noble house we aren’t, but we’ve beds you can melt into.” She cackled, smiling ambiguously at her royal client. “Surely with your majesty’s recommendation, we could get even more business here in the future. Pardon if that sounds underhanded, just business ser. Besides, leaving a bad review could ruin us, so I guess it’s a double-edged sword!”

Laughing her old crow’s laugh, she took leave once more. Spoon couldn’t help to hide the relief that swept over her; she was back to normal. The crowd had recovered from her insolence as well. She could feel their eyes burning into her back even so. Jealousy and malice still ran wild in their wake, but their fists had turned to mugs of ale and that was all that mattered.
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Re: The Small Town of Bhaltor

Post  Agentized on Tue Apr 24, 2018 2:58 am

"I don't see the need for that, my lady. What harm have you done me thus far? None that I can tell. You were curious at my presence in this place, and there was little reason for me to not answer. I suppose my business is my business alone, but seeing as I am here for the protection of the people... it is far easier to say so than to keep it close to my chest or make up excuses." The young male answered, subtly relieved that the crowd behind him seemed to have settled. He didn't necessarily feel endangered-- he was confident he could handle the situation, even if he had to do it all by himself. At least half of the crowd were already piss drunk and could barely throw a punch, never mind get into an actual fight with him. But he was relieved that he didn't even have to deal with it in the first place. It'd been a long day; hence the need for a couple drinks to take the edge off. The last thing he wanted was to have to deal with a rioting crowd.

As Spoon began to play with his ears, the subtle growls from Emile subsided. Hearing Ashe's responses to her questions helped to calm him as well; perhaps the son of Andaria wasn't as bad as they thought him to be. Perhaps the Commander was a better person than his mother ever was. However, as tempting as the thought was, he was still on-edge and guarded. He wasn't going to be quick on trusting the word of the Heir to the Throne. His words and actions could be easily fabricated in an attempt to make him look like a better person than his and his family's reputation made him out to be. Sure, a person was more than their family name and the rumors that were spread about them. But in this case... he would take whatever Ashe had to say with a grain a salt. He would tolerate the Prince, but trusting him was out of the question right now. He made case and point by letting a very loud growl out from his throat as Ashe reached out to shake with Spoon's own outstretched hand, setting the bottom of his muzzle on her knee. Surprisingly, it did little to deter the noble from shaking her hand.

"I don't think he likes me very much..." He seemed more amused than anything, lifting his gaze back up to the woman with which he had been speaking with, "Spoon, hm? An interesting name, for an interesting Miss, I suppose." Spoon was not a normal name, that was for sure. It wasn't her real name, that much he was certain on, and it showed as much in his voice. He wasn't Ailyn, but it didn't take a scientist to figure that much out. The real question was, what use would she have for an alias? It did ring a few alarm bells for him that she wouldn't give him a real name to work with, much less a full real name-- choosing instead to give him what could be... a nickname, maybe? That was possible, as silly as it may sound. Whatever the case may be with the reasoning behind 'Spoon', he had no reason to ask for her real name, and pushing for it would be uncalled for, and likely end the conversation short and on bad terms. Besides, he knew Triton-- albeit not well-- if she were with him or associated with Triton in any way, he was sure she would be fine. For now, at least.

"Very well, 'Spoon' it will be. As you seem to already know, Ashe Undarre, Commander of the Valkarian Army, and at your service. It is very nice to meet you, Spoon." It was customary of nobles to spout off each and every title under their leather belts, but he notably seemed to be forgetting quite a few-- intentionally so. Sure, he could say 'Prince of Valkaria' and 'Heir to the Throne/Crown' among other things, but it was so pretentious that he hated it. Besides, he never asked to be the next in line to the Throne. All he wanted to do was keep Valkaria safe and keep it peaceful. He didn't care to have the Crown, he had a job to do. He had his role to play, and he was currently filling it-- not sitting on some throne far away telling others what to do while doing nothing, himself.

"To answer your question, Miss, it's a farther ride. In order to properly do my duties, I would have had to come here either way to make sure things are going as they should, and that nothing is troubling these townsfolk. Might as well stay, while I am here. A bed is a bed, regardless of where it sits. I'd rather have a bed, than nothing at all." He answered her question. Even he was taken off guard by the slap to the wrist from Ora to Spoon. It took him a second to realize what had happened before an amused smile made its way to his face. He slightly shook his head from side to side with a light-hearted laugh.

"Ma'am, your kindness alone is enough for my good word. Thank you for your gracious hospitality. I will be sure that all that will listen to me will know of The Black Ant, I will promise on my life, my word, and my House as much." He replied to the older woman. He was about drink to his word when there was a loud screech in the distance that caused him to pause mid-sip. It was distant, but loud enough to make the entire Inn fall silent. There was noise, this time closer. Heavy wing-beats followed suit, until they seemed to be right over the establishment. There was a loud thud as something seemed to have hit or landed in the dirt. One last roar, heart-wrenching; it was right outside. It then began making short, quick calls, as if searching for something-- or someone. For some, their eyes grew wide. Even Emile seemed startled by the presence of the creature. The only one seemingly unphased was Ashe, who calmly set his drink down on the counter.

"My apologies, pardon me." He stood from the seat, taking a few quick strides towards the door. As he departed the building, a quick glimpse of a large, armored paw could be seen through the doorway. What could be deciphered from the scales, they were golden-brown in colour. It came as no surprise that it was Veraxes-- he moreso than the others acted as Ashe's personal dragon. Even if Ashe traveled 'alone', Veraxes was always with him, to keep him safe.

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