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[AurianaValoria1]

***This is the RP thread for Ashes to Ashes. For the discussion thread, see here.***

[AurianaValoria1]

Bellatrix de l'Aeryngton sat at the end of the bar in Dhirim's old tavern, nursing a tankard of sour ale. Her mail gauntlets lay on the counter beside her, dingy and slightly rusty. The more she looked at them, the more she wanted to use them...not to put on, but to slap the living hell out of the slobbering pig that was staring at her with lecherous eyes from the table at the far corner of the room. It was an unfortunate fact of life in Calradia - women were mostly seen as little more than brood mares, mothers, and sources of entertainment.  The more chivalric males, which were few and far between, viewed them as treasured prizes to be protected behind high walls and an army...which wasn't much better. Female soldiers-of-fortune were an oddity in this land, and, as such, attracted a lot of unwanted attention of all sorts.

 

Finally tired of the bleary-eyed grin and lustful gaze, Bellatrix downed the remainder of her ale, slid from her stool, and marched over to the man with sapphire eyes blazing, "If you don't stop staring at my hind quarters like they're a piece of prize meat, I'm going to knock you all the way to Durquba!"

[spyro1201]

After downing yet another mug of ale, Monksley overhears what might be a conflict in the making. As soon as the woman practically threatened her 'fan', the greying archer couldn't help but get up from his rickety wooden chair, walking over to the offender and with a smug smile rests his left arm on his shoulder and looks him stright in the eye.

 

"Buddy, what you're about to say will lead to one of two possible situations. Either the gods intervene at this very moment and grant you claivorance, and with it - a feesable excuse, leading to you probably being left off with a warning from this fine lady; or you could just open your big gaping chasm you call a mouth and utter a comeplete crock of bull dung, and as a result, leave this fine establishment as a less of a man, in more ways than one. Choose your next words veeeeery carefully."

 

Without missing a beat, Monksley casualy went back his chair.

Edited by spyro1201, 06 May 2015 - 11:26 PM.

[FreemasonGamer]

Sitting at a secluded table some distance away from the intensifying scene, Komolov watched the confrontation curiously as the fiery little woman sternly approached her glassy-eyed harasser; the input from the grayed old archer was particularly amusing when he also intervened. Having spent the past few hours observing the constant yet dull chaos of Dhirim's tavern, the Vaegir anticipated what was soon to follow. He sat up from his chair and ran a bare hand through his curly black hair, listening to the archer as he gave counsel to the pitiful sap who dared to anger the redheaded warrior. Finally, Komolov whistled sharply after the elder archer took a seat.

 

"Oi! I'd put my Denar on that lass sending her admirer down to the Sarranids!" He exclaimed fearlessly with a somewhat sneering tone, and some of the tavern's occupants found the conflict between Bellatrix and the poor fool she was prepared to toss out with her own bare hands worth a round of laughter and several Denar as well.

 

Of course, Komolov suspected that little other than a beating delivered by Bellatrix's hand would follow as more eyes and ears focused on the pair. 

Edited by FreemasonGamer, 06 May 2015 - 11:55 PM.

[AurianaValoria1]

Bellatrix gave the lecturing man a hard glare as he went back to his seat, "Speaking of dung, you're wasting your breath on this worthless pile of it. And judging from his putrid smell, he's just come straight from a hors-"

 

She was cut off as the drunkard sprang from his seat and lunged for her, spurred by her insult and the jeering Vaegir, "You stuck up harlot! I'll bet you stole your armor and your sword from your latest customer, didn't you, you filthy strumpet! I'll teach you!"

 

He launched a right-hook straight for her jaw, but she deftly dodged it, caught him by the wrist, flipped him over, and then promptly slammed him face-first into the floor of the tavern; it was not exactly a difficult feat considering his inebriated state, but it elicited a few surprised gasps and cheers from the onlookers.

[FreemasonGamer]

Komolov was one of the several to laugh and cheer after Bellatrix eagerly slammed the drunkard into the floorboards of the tavern, and he found the sudden event worth standing for. "A round of drinks for that decisive victory!" He called out, causing a gleeful uproar. Then, he approached the short-tempered woman with a smirk, bowing his head. "Quite impressive, m'lady." He sneered in a playful tone.

 

Bellatrix looked up at the Vaegir who now towered over her, her gaze sharp, "I didn't do it for your entertainment...or anyone else's, for that matter. If you want to place bets and watch a show, head to the arena."

 

Komolov's lighthearted persona held true under her cold blue, skeptical gaze; his lively green eyes sparked with a mischievousness akin to that of a fox. "Honest words, but that was quick spectacle to witness nonetheless." He offered a hand to shake. "Komolov Yuliy, of Ayyike."

 

She hesitated, then took his hand quickly, "Bellatrix de L'Aeryngton. I'm not from Calradia, but I've been a traveling blade for almost a year now."

 

The young man whistled in slight astonishment, shaking her hand firmly. "A foreigner to Calradia? There's something one doesn't cross often, Lady Aeryngton." He beckoned back to his table, tilting his head. "I was quite astonished by how quickly you dispatched that saddened fool; you obviously know your way around a fight?"

 

She moved to take her chain gauntlets from the bar and slowly followed him, her eyes watching him carefully, "I was raised with a sword in my hand and a bow on my back. I can ride a horse with the best of them. Much to the chagrin of most men whom I meet."

 

Komolov took a seat back in his chair, his composite bow and well-maintained halberd resting against the wall behind him. "Indeed, I've yet to encounter half a dozen women of the sword and shield, at best. However, I don't see harm in it. Warriors like you make short work of Swadian fools like that." He glanced at the pitiful sap Bellatrix had beaten being dragged out of the tavern.

 

She seated herself across from him with a smirk, "Well...it's a good thing not all Swadians are fools, or we Sword Sisters would have taken over the whole kingdom by now."

 

Komolov returned her smirk, nodding. "Pity the Swadians that can put up a fight are too occupied in their keeps or serving their lords." After a moment, he glanced to the bar and back to Bellatrix. "Doesn't leave anyone left to manage the unsavory sorts bothering the honest folk."

[Flipout6]

Cameron Haringoth walked in the doors to the inn just in time to witness the lecher's humiliating defeat at the hands of a rather fiery-looking woman at the bar. He stumbled out of the building, bloodied and bruised, stumbling head-first (rather painfully) into the knight, who was clad in full armor still. Without looking back, he gave the man a good shove and sent him into the mud outside, spluttering indignantly.

 

"A little humiliation'll do you some good, anyways." He shrugged, indifferent to the glare he found himself on the receiving end on.

 

He caught little snippets of the conversation ensuing between the Sword Sister and what appeared to be a marksman at the bar. Smirking behind his helmet, he decided to contribute some. "And it's a shame, truly. But alas, we have our formidable warrior-women to keep the rabble in line for us. An indispensable service to all of Calradia, I assure you." He looked at the archer. "She's not deceiving you when she says they would have taken the kingdom over, I assure you. I've seen combatants such as her fell Huscarls in battle. Rather amusing, seeing a bearded mountain of a man cut down by a woman half his size." He raised an eyebrow and glanced back at Bellatrix. "...Or, in your case, smaller than that."

 

He sat down on a stool at the bar table and placed his great helm on the counter beside him, pulling back the chainmail that covered his head. "Ale and stew, if you would." He requested of the bartender, sliding a few denars across to the man, who scooped them up and disappeared into the back to take his order.

 

"I apologize on behalf of Swadia for that fool." He casually stated to Bellatrix. "Even our more...traditionally-minded individuals would treat you better than that. My name is Cameron, of the Haringoth line, if you wish to use it."

[AurianaValoria1]

Bellatrix watched the Swadian Knight swagger in and smirked; despite his obvious haughtiness, there was something about that saunter that she liked. As he sat at the bar, she glanced over her shoulder and replied, "Haringoth? I've heard of your father, then. And your brother." Her smirk widened, and she added, "Pity I haven't heard of you."

[Flipout6]

Cameron chuckled lightly. "That doesn't surprise me. After all, nobility is seldom eager to promote and present the child that proves to be the most...difficult, shall we say?" He shrugged an armoured shoulder as he had his ale put in front of him. He took a swig, cringing a little at the taste.

 

"Stew's still on the fire." The bartender explained gruffly as he went to give the pot a stir."

 

"Someone had to explain to them the sheer idiocy with which they carried themselves." He smirked again, glancing sidelong at the woman beside him. She could fight and she gave as good as she got for lip...he liked her so far. "I took up that responsibilty myself. Now, since it's my dear brother Regas that they would prefer inherit the lands and titles and I'm the eldest, they saw fit to assign me to the Knights, supposedly so that I might "learn to conduct myself honourably." Which will be why I'm not as infamous as other Haringroth men. Fine with me; I found Knighthood enjoyable."

 

He raised an eyebrow. "And how about you, my lady? It's rare to cross paths with a fighting woman of any nationality, and even rarer still to encounter one with a sharp tongue. I admit, I'm intrigued."

[FreemasonGamer]

Komolov sat back in his chair as Cameron socialized with Bellatrix; the Vaegir found the knight's utter distaste for Swadian nobility and the incompetence associated with them both unexpected and amusing. He took a shallow drink of the cheap pale ale that the tavern had to offer as he absentmindedly ignored its harsh, unrefined taste; in all honesty, the drink subtly reminded Komolov of the equally harsh vodkas and liquors of home. propping his feet in an unoccupied chair, he was content with listening to the pair of warriors mingle whilst he curiously scanned the rest of the tavern for any interesting figures. Diving ever deeper into his mug, Komolov welcomed the growing intoxication resonating in the back of his conscience as he hummed a quiet tune. Soon, he smirked before boldly interjecting into the conversation with a sleightful tone, "Same sword sister, same inquiries, different gentleman."