The Small Town of Bhaltor

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Re: The Small Town of Bhaltor

Post  Agentized on Wed Oct 24, 2018 11:57 pm

"It has been awhile since we visited the capitol. It will be nice to visit; I've always admired the beauty and elegance of the palace." Lord Erik responded to something the Prince had commented on previous.

"Aye my Lord, and it will be a pleasure to my mother to see you and your House after so long." Ashe replied. They had been talking about all sorts of things; his dragons, politics, other noble houses and their gossip. Their current topic was that of the upcoming ball he had invited them to just a short bit ago.

"Yes, Prince Ashe, and we shall be pleasured by her presence as well! I can't wait to dance to the eloquence of the music..." Lord Erik's words seemed to fade away from Ashe's ears as a set of voices from far off reached them instead. Odd for a group to be all the way out there... a pit began forming in his stomach. Something felt amiss, but he just couldn't leave the Lord and Lady. Hopefully it was nothing. His attention quickly snapped back to Lord Erik.

"It's a shame you won't be able to participate, My Prince, I'm sure it's going to be a mountain of fun." The Lord smiled. Ashe smiled back with a small nod.

"Aye, Lord Erik. I'd love to be able to join in on the fun, but alas, I will be attending my duties and guarding my mother--" He was cut off by Spoon.

“I hear something, my lords. I am sorry, I will catch up with you!” Like a flash, she was off. For a moment, all three of the remaining members of the party were stunned before Triton yelled after her.

"Spoon! Get back here!" However, by the time he got the words out, she was too far away to hear. Ashe looked back to Lord Erik and Lady Gwynn.

"I will go after her." He said, before turning his horse to follow and spurring it forward. It was a fine horse, but it wasn't quite as fast as Fenrir. It took him a little bit longer to maneuver at a quicker pace through the foliage and trees; his heavy armor didn't help.

“Hey!” He heard through the trees. There was a pause, “You were just gonna leave him to die!? Come on, at least show a little respect!” This time the voice coming through the brush was a slightly familiar one-- that was Spoon. He emerged through the foliage in just enough time to see the three bandits hop onto some horses and gallop off, and to see Spoon knock out the pathetic archer with the hilt of her knife. It seemed that she had handled things well, and it left him wondering where she had acquired the knife... among others things. But he hadn't the time to get too lost in thought; he had gleamed the situation from the few words Spoon spoke to the older man on the ground, as well as the state of him and the ripped satchel on the ground-- the petty thieves were getting away. He urged his horse forward after them. Though his horse wasn't faster than Fenrir, it was still faster than whatever horses they had more than likely managed to steal from innocent passersby, or probably had purchased with the coins they had stolen from others like the poor old man.

As they chased after the low-lifes, Ashe couldn't help but notice how well Miss Taro was riding, even despite being in a proper dress. Granted, she was no longer riding side-saddle but, had she had lessons? Or was she self-taught? Either way, it was rather impressive. As was her ability to fight, it seemed. Despite having her out-numbered, she had made the bandits flee. That was no small feat for a lone woman in these parts, even one on a horse like Fenrir, who had been trained for battle and to protect his rider. She had to have been pretty good... but where had she learned skills like that? Had someone taught her? Was it just from experience? Or was it something... more? It was the first time he really began to question the origin of the company he kept. But, now was hardly the time. One thing was certain-- they both were going to stop these thieves so that they wouldn't be able to harm anyone or steal from anyone ever again.

The three bandits weaved and dodged their way through the foliage and trees, yanking their horses from side to side to avoid trees, branches, and roots as they blazed a new trail through the forest. However, no matter how hard they tried, both Ashe and Spoon were hot on their tails, seemingly keeping pace with ease. The large chestnut stallion extended beautifully beneath the young woman, yet still managed to expertly avoid low-hanging branches, trees, and roots that rose from the ground looking to trip any unsuspecting passerby. Ashe's horse wasn't so accustomed to the fast pace and uneven ground that they travelled over, but was able to manage fairly well with the experience rider atop its back guiding it skillfully behind the pack of thieves. After what had seemed like an eternity, they finally broke through the dense brush into an open stretch, a small town lying at the opposite side. The three vandals made a dash for it, pushing their horses hard as the rebel girl and the Prince followed after them.

In no time at all, they entered the stirring streets, which had people dashing back and forth between their small settlements and the homely shops. Women and children screamed, diving out of the way as the thieves came barrelling in on their horses, not caring if they ran someone over. Unfortunately, as they entered the town, Ashe slowed up, bringing his horse to a moderate, more controllable pace while still trying to keep up with the thugs. However, it seemed that they would lose them in the crowd. They couldn't keep up without risk of running an innocent civilian over. Just when it seemed like the thieves would get away, further down the dirt road a wagon pulled out from a smaller side road, accidentally blocking the path of the fleeing criminals. Startled by the sudden appearance of the large obstacle in their path, their horses skidded to a stop, managing to throw one thief into the side of the wagon. Another horse reared, tossing its rider in the dirt. The third, frustrated and knowing they had to keep moving, thought quick on their feet and leapt off their horse. Helping their comrades up, they thought it might be best to try to go on foot from there. They took off through an alley way as Ashe pulled up, jumping from his horse. The chase was on.

"Stop, in the name of the Queen!" Ashe commanded, "Or suffer the consequences!"

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Re: The Small Town of Bhaltor

Post  Bec on Tue Dec 18, 2018 3:52 am

”Stop, in the name of the Queen, or suffer the consequences!”

These demands roused a guttural laugh in the largest thug. He raised a hand to the sky, looking back in his pursuer’s direction, and with a shit-eating smile he threw up his middle finger.

His mouth again became busied with laughter, proud of his insubordination. “Oh, no!” he mocked, “Not the con’se’cences! Bah-hah! I ain’t gonna suffer shit from nobody! ‘Er my name ain’t-- Agh!”

In a moment of confusion, shock and pain, the thief was stopped dead in his tracks. He fell onto his rear, head spinning from the impact. It didn’t make any sense; he was certain that this alleyway was open at the end, and yet it felt as if he had run into a brick wall. Rubbing the sore away from his face, he looked up to discover the source of his collision.

“Ah-- you again!”

Before him was the rust-red steed from the woods; huffing and snorting. He loomed over the fallen bandit, pawing at the stone path that lay between him and freedom. Atop him was the meddlesome girl from before -- her dress had torn and muddied from the chase, her hair messy and unkempt from the wind.

The steed’s muscles rippled and shook, and he awaited tensely for further instruction from his rider. It had taken nearly all of his stamina just to get there in time; they’d rounded the entire building in an attempt to cut them off. Luckily, they had made it. A moment later and the man likely would’ve been bloodied and bruised beneath his hooves.

“You truly must be a fool, to think you could outrun a war horse on foot.” the girl taunted, raising an eyebrow at the pathetic lot before her. Pulling her feet from her stirrups, she dismounted and approached the fallen gang leader.

Provoked and enraged, the bandit was quickly on his feet once more. Without the platform of her horse, he now towered over the girl. This fueled him with confidence.

“An’ you must be a fool as well, little girl! Fightin’ in a dress? Pathetic lil’ bitch, ya even had to call on backup jus’ to get back to us, eh!?” he ridiculed her, gesturing back towards the armored man. “A’course ya had to. Leave it to a man to do a woman’s job, huh?”

Booming, he did not even attempt to fight back the grin that emerged on his face. Spoon could feel her irritation in her teeth, glaring up at the oaf before her for a moment before smirking.

“Oh, but of course. For, it isn’t as if I knocked out your archer and blackened your eye or anything, now is it? Tell me, how’s that cut on your palm doing? I can’t imagine it felt very good against your reins on the way here.”


It took less time than she had to speak her first sentence to thrust the man into a spiraling rage once more; her cocky tone was enough to push him over the edge. “I’ll teach you how to talk to a man, you bitch!” he exclaimed, throwing his fist outward. He was on a direct path to her face, when he felt a sharp, throbbing pain between his knuckles. The red faded from his vision, and the tip of her knife faded in. He screamed in agony, falling to his knees as he held his hand.

Spoon immediately felt guilt for what she had done, evident on her face as she watched her victim scream and sob at her feet. She shook it away to the best of her ability, rubbing her eyes voraciously with her hands before looking to the other two miscreants. The young boy was trembling, and the woman glaring scornfully. “How dare you,” she began, the anger pushing tears forth from her eyes, “how dare you bring that man to us! That Prince! He’ll have us all killed! You’ll have us killed! We didn’t kill nobody! Damn you! Damn you both back to the Hell you were birthed from!”

Spoon was taken aback by her outburst, eyes widened with shock. “N- nobody’s going to die!” she shouted, kneeling down before the flustered man whilst keeping her eyes towards the other two. “You will both certainly suffer for your crimes,” she stated, regaining her composure, “but not like that. Let us not forget the poor old man you had half beaten to death for a sack of letters. What purpose had you with those documents, anyway?”

She awaited a reply, but was met with a defiant stare. Sighing, she returned to the writhing crybaby before her.

“Hold still.” she murmured sternly, taking his giant hand into hers. She had blocked his blow with her knife, and it had pierced straight through his middle knuckles and out the top of his hand. It was a wound that could render his nerves useless, but had she allowed him to hit her they surely would die. Or so it would be, should Triton have witnessed it. She felt a pain in her gut, it wasn’t as if Triton had not hit her before. She pushed that thought away.

With a swift yank, the blade was out of his hand and pressed firmly against his throat. The pain may have incapacitated him for a time, but she was not about to take chances and waste any more kindness on a brigand. She looked past him, to Ashe, and waved for him to assist her in the detainment. The largest one was the main concern, although the other two were still surely armed as well. She would keep an eye on them as they proceeded.
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Re: The Small Town of Bhaltor

Post  Agentized on Thu Jan 10, 2019 2:38 am

Pft. How lovely. The Prince couldn't help the thought from crossing his mind with a small scoff leaving his mouth as the man laughed and thrust a hand backward to present him with his middle finger. It wasn't the most childish thing he'd ever encountered from a rotten thief, but it was certainly up there. However, it was his turn to be amused, halting his chase with a knowing smirk as he spotted Spoon and Fenrir come down the alley from the other side. A fact that seemed to go unnoticed by the largest of the bandits as he spouted off his nonsense back at Ashe, and a fact becoming more evident as he ran smack dab into the front of the solid chestnut stallion, whom seemed rather unphased by the impact of the man. Damn, did Ashe love that animal. He was a gem; a true war horse.

As fast as amusement came to the Prince, it seemingly left upon the young woman unseating herself from his noble steed, ushering his serious presence to return-- it appeared that she had levelled the playing field by removing herself from the four legged creature. Not only so, but she seemed to be provoking the man. Though he was sure that she could-- for a second time in such a sort span-- best him again should things come to end in violence, it still made him tense. He instinctively moved a hand to the hilt of his sword, gripping it. Her words seemed to have been working, as before long, the man's anger got the best of him, and he drew back a hand to strike her. Ashe would have made a move, had it not been for the dagger he'd seen her pull to aid in her defense; the man, so blind in his rage, had not seen until it was too late. Blood began dripping from his hand as he stared in shock before dropping to his knees with a scream that would make one think a murder might just have been committed in the dark, musty alley.

Though Ashe certainly didn't envy the poor fool, he didn't feel quite so bad, either. The man was a criminal-- there was no changing the things that he had done, whatever those things may have been. For poor Spoon, it seemed that she did not share the same sentiment. Though only showing briefly, it was something he noted. On the other hand, the woman's words; they carried weight for him. They took him by surprise, causing him to take a step back, as if they'd had some sort of physical force that hit him square in the chest. He averted his gaze, briefly turning his head to the side as he let out a wistful sigh. It was a quick, short window of genuine emotion-- he quickly recovered himself.

“I’m not going to kill anyone, Miss.” He reiterated Spoon’s words calmly, making an attempt at being reassuring. It had not escaped his mind that these people were still thieves that had beaten a poor old man and robbed him. However, this... this was the part he hated about his role. His job was to uphold his mother’s law. But he never, ever wanted people to see him as a symbol of fear or death. He was supposed to be a peacemaker, with those deserving of it getting what was coming to them. But therein lies the problem… no one ever recounted all the times he had simply jailed someone as opposed to the comparatively few times he had killed them for their heinous crimes. Half the time, the stories that got passed around about him… focussed on what he had done, and not the actions of the party that he had opposed. It was hardly fair. Then again, no one ever told him that being the Prince nor the Commander of the Royal Army was going to be easy. It should’ve went without saying that he’d have as many enemies as he would allies and people that actually respected and liked him, if not more, just for having those titles alone. Nevermind those who detested him for his actions, his personality, and the many untrue rumors passed around about him.

Besides, he thought, If I were going to kill anyone, it certainly wouldn’t be anyone present. Those were thoughts that he couldn’t allow to leave his mouth, lest he start a fight over matters that weren’t worth starting a fight that broad and public for-- at least, certainly not in his mother’s eyes. Aside from that, the thoughts were, admittedly, perhaps a bit harsh, and would only serve to fuel the rumors where he was nothing short of ruthless and out for blood. Just because he thought Triton was a douchebag didn’t mean Triton deserved to die. However it would be satisfactory to at least make him taste some of his own medicine, and see what it’s like to feel pain. This gave him an idea; one he would have to enact when they got back to the keep.

Without further thought to the subject, he moved forward, keeping an eye on the other two. He wasn’t so much concerned with the young boy as he was the woman-- if nothing else, her anger towards him and Spoon was what kept him on edge. He wasted no time getting bindings on the large man, taking a quick look at the damage done to his hand. Sure, the sight wasn’t exactly pretty but, the man would certainly live.

“You must only pick on people who you’re sure you can beat, with how much you’re crying over something like that. Tells me you’ve never got hit back, or else you’d be handling that like a champ. Thinking you’re tough because you beat up and robbed an old man, pft. I bet this Lady here,” he gestured towards Spoon, “could take a wee cut better than you.” He was intentionally challenging the man’s masculinity, just for the purpose of trying to get the man’s attention on him rather than the pain and his wound. It didn’t take long for the local authorities to come running, having heard all the noise and ruckus emanating from the alleyway. It didn’t take long for them to get the other two bound.

“As Miss here suggested,” once again Ashe gestured to Spoon, “the boy can go work at the Black Ant in Bhaltor. There’s no use locking up a young, lost soul like that. He can work to make up for what he’s done, and set him on a better path than he has thus far. As for him,” he waved a hand toward the large man, “make sure that wound gets thoroughly cleaned and covered. The last thing we need is for that to get infected. If he is to pay for his crimes, he very much needs to be alive.”

“Yes sir, it will be done.” The one charge responded with a respectful nod, before ushering the three out of the alley and up the road towards the jail.

“I suppose that takes care of that issue.” Ashe said aloud, to no one in particular. He started to head back to his horse when he came to the realization that the black steed was nowhere to be found. He was so used to the capitols’ war horses that he’d forgotten that the horse he had been on was, in fact, not one of Zanna’s specially bred animals, bred and trained to ignore everything except its own rider. The horse had likely been spooked off by something, or perhaps had even turned around to go back home after he’d “abandoned” it for the fight. He stopped, letting out an exasperated sigh, turning on his heel and heading back into the alley.

“My apologies, Miss Spoon,” he started, a tad sheepishly, “it looks like we may have to share a mount on the way back. The one Lord Whittaker allowed me to borrow has seemed to have run off on me.” He couldn’t believe this. Not only had he now lost one of their horses, but he was about to ride back to them with Spoon in tow. He was sure they weren’t the fondest of him before, but they were surely going to hate him now. He just hoped Triton wouldn’t do anything to Spoon. This was all his fault for losing the damn horse, and if she got hurt on his behalf… this was awful.

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Re: The Small Town of Bhaltor

Post  Bec on Thu Jan 10, 2019 3:30 am

Spoon stood in watch as the prince handed off the criminals to the local law enforcement; she had to admit, she was happy that he’d reinforced her words about the boy. It was a wide step in the opposite direction from what she’d heard about him. She could only hope that the kid himself would heed her advice, lest she find him on the street again for a nice, stern talking to. She would be checking into the Black Ant soon for a follow-up.

She averted her eyes to the odd looks and unapologetic stares of standersby and officers; she knew she was a mess. The hushed choir of crude comments deafened her, and she shrunk ever deeper into the brick wall of the building behind her, silently cursing the town for not putting, say… a deep well there, instead. She’d happily jump into it right about now. ’What is she doing here?’ ‘Is that the Prince?’ ‘Why is she with the Prince?’ ‘Her dress is disgusting. ‘What an improper woman.’ ‘This is no place for a lady!’ ‘Why is her dress so torn up?’ ‘Is that blood?’ ‘Looks like Prince Undarre saved her from some bandits, this is why Lord Triton needs a noblewoman; they get into less trouble.’

Luckily, as the guards left, so too did a majority of the onlookers. It seemed they had gotten their fill of Prince Ashe’s illustrious presence, and of her rather shitty and pathetic one. ”He didn’t even DO anything though. That was all me; I was the one who heard them, I was the one who cornered them.” She thought, clenching her fist as she leaned against the wall, trying not to make eye contact with any of the remaining crowd. ”Of course I look awful, I’m well aware. Why do you think that is, you blind idiots?”

Letting a small, audible groan from her chest, she stood up. The bandits were gone, it was done. No need dwelling on it; after all, that’s just how it’s going to be no matter where you go. The Prince is without flaw, feared at worst, and the mongrel dog of a noble is little more than a pitiable eyesore. Women aren’t equipped for battle, dresses aren’t meant to be torn, and armor is meant to be shiny and distracting. Lovely. She was over it.

“Yes, I suppose it does…” Spoon mumbled, barely even recognizing that she was responding at all.

As the Prince spoke up once more, she felt a shiver shoot up her spine. His tone was meek. He sounded like a scared child, and it was incredibly off-putting. She turned to face him, concern plastered all over her face as she scrambled to understand why he was so embarrassed. That’s when it hit her.

“W- wait, where’s your… where is your… the horse?” she asked, mostly to herself as she tried to process the situation.

“Oh, oh no.” she said, finally understanding. Her face began reddening, and she put her hands up in sheepish protest, shaking them vigorously. An uncomfortable smile took form on her face. She laughed a bit, confused of how to react. “No no, it’s fine. I can walk; we don’t need to do that. Please, he is your horse after all. Take him, take him I’ll catch up. Or I’ll walk beside you. It’s no matter, really. I can’t let you do that. Really.

That well was sounding remarkably comfortable right about now.
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Re: The Small Town of Bhaltor

Post  Agentized on Thu Jan 10, 2019 4:30 am

“I can’t just let you walk, Miss, that wouldn’t be right of me. The keep is pretty far from here by foot. If anything, I should be the one walking; I’m the one who lost my horse— well, I’ve lost two at this point.” He laughed light-heartedly at himself, while also cursing himself out on the inside. For this so-called “highly revered, respected, and feared” Prince he had made an awful lot of ridiculous mistakes in the past twenty-four hours. Sure, he wasn’t perfect, but this certainly was most unlike him. He was acting like an amateur; he honestly couldn’t even believe himself.

“Besides, I hardly did a thing to stop those bandits too; that was all you. Clearly I don’t deserve a horse, I deserve to walk— and I would, if I had the time to spare. Sadly… I do have to make my way back home.” He didn’t mean for that to come out the way that it did. But, there wasn’t anything he could do about that now. The words had already left his mouth, and to justify or explain them would only bring more attention to them and makes things worse. Instead, he walked over to Fenrir, giving the chestnut a fond stroke down the length of his face. With a moment in between, he went to the stallion’s side, getting into the saddle with ease and familiarity. It was easy to see how well he knew his steed, and how well his steed knew him.

“I do insist, Miss Taro. I can’t leave you here to walk.” He held out a hand to help her up, knowing that she seemed about just as fond of the idea of this as he did.

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Re: The Small Town of Bhaltor

Post  Bec on Thu Jan 10, 2019 4:54 am

Well, he wasn’t wrong. And this? This was a horrible idea. Letting out a sigh, she seemed to deflate into her defeat. Ever so hesitantly, she accepted his hand and pulled herself atop the horse with his help.

She settled herself into the saddle before him, being mindful of where she sat. She did her best to leave some space between them, but there’s only so much room in a saddle. Feeling her face getting hot, she pressed her fingers into her forehead and began to groan. She found herself smiling sarcastically, cursing the situation in its fullest as the remaining onlookers gasped. Typically in this situation she would ignore them. This time, however, she bestowed upon them the most irritated and threatening glare that she had likely ever given anyone. This got them to clear out a little faster, which would have been a relief were she not already so pissed off.

An overwhelming sense of ‘fuck it’ washed over her, and she straightened up her posture, looking in the direction they’d come from. This was going to be fun.

“Listen, Ashe. While nothing of significance may happen to you during this, I just want you to know…” she smirked, looking back at him, “I hope you feel like shit at my funeral.”
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Re: The Small Town of Bhaltor

Post  Agentized on Thu Jan 10, 2019 5:14 am

“Believe me, Miss. I already feel guilty for what may come for you, and we’ve not yet even returned. Allow me to apologize in advance, first for being an idiot and losing the horse, but second on Triton’s behalf. If it may make things any better, I could at least see to it that you get home safely before I depart back to the Capitol.” He replied, hushed, so that everyone around them wouldn’t hear of their conversation. He did his best to ignore any onlookers , though he wished they would shut their mouths and mind their own business.

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Re: The Small Town of Bhaltor

Post  Bec on Thu Jan 10, 2019 5:36 am

Spoon caught herself gasping, covering it quickly with a laugh. She gently nudged his shoulder with a fist, immediately glaring at one last person gasping before they ran off. Shaking her head, she let out another, smaller laugh.

"Learn to take a joke. And, you're not an idiot; it obviously wasn't a war steed. If it was anyone's fault, it was mine. I did... stab someone. Also I'm the person who ran off in the first place. Please, it's fine. Let's just get back before they start getting worried." she suggested, intentionally avoiding his comment about Triton. She knew that he knew, and he obviously realized that. She just didn't want to talk about it.

"And, um. You don't need to take me home. Honestly, it may be best if Triton takes me home. That would be viewed less.. conspicuously."

While her words reigned true, that wasn't the only reason she'd prefer him not to take her home. Frankly, how stupid would she be to bring the Valkarian Prince to their rebel hideout. At best, he'd know where they lived. At worst, they'd kill him. It was really beginning to set in just how weird the past two days had been.
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Re: The Small Town of Bhaltor

Post  Agentized on Thu Jan 10, 2019 6:08 am

He couldn’t help an amused smile from forming on his lips as she gently nudged his shoulder with her fist. He didn’t get this kind of interaction very often— and when he did it was usually from the few very close friends he had, or one of his siblings. It was always refreshing to have a bit of fun with someone and genuinely talk. He didn’t get that nearly as much as he would’ve liked.

“You defended yourself. Nothing wrong with that. And, if it hadn’t been for you, who knows what would have happened to that poor old man. Those thieves probably would have gotten away. You did good. I have half a mind to give you my job.” He chuckled. He wasn’t about to let her take the blame for his stupid mistakes.

“Maybe you’re right... I just...” He bit his tongue. It wasn’t really his place to talk. However, he couldn’t just leave her with them.

“Forgive me, Miss, this is absolutely not my business. But, I just don’t feel like I should leave you alone with them after this. We both know how they can be.” He replied, “At least let me see you back to Bhaltor.” He nudged Fenrir to pick up the pace, to shorten the time getting back.

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Re: The Small Town of Bhaltor

Post  Bec on Thu Jan 10, 2019 6:23 am

"Hah!" she couldn't help but exclaim, shaking her head mercilessly at the thought.

"I wouldn't take your job if it was the last one in the world."

Listening to his reasoning, Spoon let her shoulders drop. Her eyes drifted to her hands. She traced a hand over her bruised wrist, imagining how it looked beneath the sleeve of her dress. She looked away, nodding slightly.

"I will accept that. By the way... stop calling me Miss, if you don't mind. I'm almost certain you mentioned that I should refer to you as Ashe, so I'm requesting that you do the same for me. Taro. Or Spoon. I'll respond to either. Honestly, I'd probably respond to 'hey you' as well. Anything but Miss." she smirked, returning her gaze to him as she spoke, "Besides, you heard them. I'm hardly a lady. If you simply must be so proper, call me Sir. It's likely a better fit anyway." she chuckled.

Looking back to the forest, she paused for a moment, frowning.

"I... am sorry, if this begins to circulate. I know I said I doubt you'll be affected by it, but the truth is, I don't know what would affect you. After meeting you, I realize... I have no idea how many stories I've heard about you were just that. Stories. I should have been more understanding of that fact. And... I am sorry about how rude I came across at first, back in the Inn. I was never the fondest of you. I realize that was unfair. If there is anything I can do to help mitigate the situation, not that I think there is much, I will do it."

She honestly wasn't sure if this was even as big of a deal as she was making it out to be, but as she said, she had no idea what might be a big deal to the highest of the high in the Crown. The thought hit her that if her family found out about this, she would likely be looked under heavy scrutiny. Suddenly, a realization hit her. "Emile!" She began looking around at the forest surrounding them, sweating a bit. What if he'd followed her to make sure she was safe? It wasn't an uncommon thing for him to do. If he saw this... she might as well die right there.
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Bec
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Re: The Small Town of Bhaltor

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