a chance meeting [rickter]

[Talon]

a chance meeting

7th of Ash, 120 AoS

Talon grunted as he was full body tackled by the form of his younger brother as he set foot within the tavern of High Hopes. He chuckled and kicked his feet helplessly as he was lifted up from behind.

“Alright, Rien! Alright! You have made your point!” Talon was set down onto his feet only to find himself in another tight hug. He wrapped his arms around his brother tightly and squeezed until he heard Rien grunt. Releasing his brother from the bear hug, Talon stepped back to take a look at the other Avialae and there was a welling of emotion inside of him. The two stared at each other before breaking out into smiles. Rien playfully punched him in the shoulder before nudging past him to walk over to the bar.

“If you ever leave without me again, I will punch you in the face.” Talon laughed but made a placating gesture to his brother.

“Yes, yes. I promise to bring you with me the next time I set out across the world in search of myself. I am sure you and Aoren will be great company for each other.” Rien scoffed before rolling his eyes. He hopped over the bar going to grab a glass. He polished it expertly then filled it with a rich beer that Talon could smell keenly even from where he was standing. His brother handed it to him wordlessly. Coming up to the bar, Talon took a drink from the beer, downing a good portion of it with a few gulps. He had tasted the brews of Atinaw and even from some of the villages toward the borders of Turoth. They had been fine and well but there was something about the taste of home to be found in the beer from his brother’s tavern. He set down the glass, taking a seat on one of the stools.

“Seen father yet?” Talon shook his head. He swirled the beer in the glass, staring into the contents as though some answer would manifest inside of it.

“Why did he go?” Talon looked up into his brother’s eyes then. Rien leaned against the counter with his arms folded over his chest. He sighed heavily and Talon knew it was concerning if it was enough to get his brother to sigh.

“Zaichaer has made another demand. More specifically, the Reconcilliators but we both know they are just the Grand Marshal’s mouthpiece.” Talon quirked a brow as he brought the beer to his lips once more. He took a more measured sip this time before speaking.

“They want a seat on the Council.” Talon spoke the words without really feeling them. Well, he did feel them. He was simply telling himself that his feelings on the matter were neutral even if that couldn’t have been further from the truth. The Order of Reconcilliators was the militant arm of a group of zealots that had the full support of the High City of the Northlands. They were self-righteous and utterly devoted to stifling the presence of magic across the entirety of not just the region of Karnor, but across Ransera as a whole. They made Talon uneasy. Their philosophies threatened the way of life in Kalzasi and they had gained at least a few supporters in the city and its territories over the past few years. Ever since his uncle, the shamed Jacien Novalys, had attempted his coup and decimated both Talon’s family and threatened order in the Northlands, Zaichaer had been more aggressive in its pursuits to stifle his homeland’s prominence and influence. Not willing to risk open war with Zaichaer and its allies at the time, Talon’s father had agreed to allow a chapter of the Reconcilliators be established within the city’s territory as a token gesture of good faith.

“Aye.” The idea of having a Reconcilliator on the Council of Kalzasi sent a shiver up Talon’s spine. He couldn’t help the slight rustling of his wings as he considered it. It was one thing to be forced to tolerate their presence. It was quite another for them to actually have a voice in the governance of the city and its territories.

“Father would never allow it.” Even before Talon finished speaking, Rien was shaking his head.

“Father may not have a choice. It is why he is travelling abroad, visiting our allied cities.” Rien turned his gaze away from Talon and in that moment he could see that much had weighed on his younger brother’s shoulders in the time he’d been gone. “There is a change coming, big brother. I can feel it. I can hear it.”

Rien’s gaze grew unfocused and Talon knew he was listening to music that he could not hear. Were it anyone but his brother, Talon would have been uncomfortable in the presence of a Mesmer. The art of manipulating the minds of others was something that most Avialae were quite heavily averse to but Rien wielded his gifts for a reason and Talon had faith in his brother. After a moment, Rien blinked and let out a breath. Talon reached over to squeeze his brother’s forearm in a show of support.

“We will weather this storm, Rien.” His brother merely nodded but Talon could tell there was more on his mind. He did not press it. There was time enough to attend to the duties of their House and family. As it was, a commotion drew Talon’s attention toward the fighter’s ring that was set up in the tavern.

“What is all this?” His brother chuckled.

“A new fighter. He’s a bit of a beast. I think you would like him. The patrons certainly do. Some of the other innkeeps have thought about arranging a formal tournament between all their best ring fighters. I have had my eye on this one.” Rien nodded his head toward the ring. Talon finished his beer only for his brother to refill it then push him toward the ring.

“Go! Enjoy the show. Goddess knows, we’ve more than enough time to talk family.” Talon nodded. He reached across the bar, wrapped his hand around Rien’s head and pulled him in close. He rest their foreheads together for a moment before picking up his drink and meandering over to the ring. Running through the days in his head, Talon knew that this was one of the planned event nights. Rien would clear out a portion of the main room of the tavern, set up the ring and invite fighters across the city. There were strict rules about fairness and sportsmanship in his brother’s establishment. That wasn’t to say other events weren’t hosted to test a different sort of mettle but there was a time and place for everything. This night was to allow men and women with the need to, the chance to blow off some steam, put on a show, earn free drinks, food, entertainment and even coin for their efforts. Every season or so, the various establishments around the city hosted competitions between the fighters who frequented their rings. Talon had never participated in such events himself. He knew that his companion, Aoren, did so frequently. In fact, he had a suspicion that he would be seeing his companion in this very ring soon enough that night.

Several of the patrons moved aside, giving Talon a wide berth as he approached the ring. He offered nods of the head to those who bowed and a raising of his glass to those who did the same. He came to stand at the edge of the ring and was pleased to see that the fight was already in progress. It looked like a human was facing off against an Orkhan. That always made for a good event. At a glance, he thought he recognized the human but for the moment he simply sipped his drink and watched the show.

"What makes a man?"

[Rickter]

A Chance Meeting

Ash 7th, 120th Year, A.o.S.

The crowd that surrounded the ring were a lively bunch of locals, yet even among the few of many faces he could hardly recognize, Rickter admittedly reasoned with himself that some weren't just Kalzasi citizens either. The High Hopes Tavern was after all a popular venue, frequented by travelers from abroad who were visiting the huge city. A couple of those faces that he actually did know, were the ones that belonged to his partner Telion and her hardy friend Hannah, as they found this to be ample opportunity to see him in action. Not that Rickter felt nervous by their presence, if anything it gave him more cause to remain focused, because if he knew Hannah any (which was little if at all) she was likely betting against him in these matches.

So far he's already managed to wrestle down two opponents into submission, and taking into account the rules that have been implied here, the fights themselves paled in comparison to the Fighter's Pit the wolf was so familiar with. Honestly, that was probably why the other two previous fighters were easier, because, in comparison to the Orkhan at present, they were lighter men and significantly better at upholding codes of honor. Not that Rickter wasn't against that honestly, in truth he did his best to follow the same principle, but there was no denying how satisfying it felt to just pommel somebody down into submission.

Though now he had met an equal match in terms of strength and power, as the Orkhan before him stood at the other side of the ring, arms pumped outward as he welcomed the challenge Rickter projected. A big guy like him stood actually a little taller than Rickter, with the musculature structure of his torso and biceps rigid as boulders. Both men stood in the ring shirtless and covered in sweat, due to their previous encounters with the fighters that entered the tourney. It was events like this Rickter truly lived for and not just because of the chance of earning a free drink or meal, but because he actually learned things from watching and fighting others here. As both a Reaver and an alleged 'bodyguard' as Telion liked to call him sometimes, he sometimes picked up new ways to improve his own personal training.

But of course, the chance of earning discounts and even free things was an added bonus.

The wolf stood at his side of the ring with eyes narrowed on the Ork before him, his breathing slowed to a regulated deep intake to maintain the clarity within his mind. So far they had only made a few soft blows to one another, more or less testing their physical prowess against one another. Needless to say, the Ork knew how to hit and hard at that, harder than Ricky did in fact, which just goes to show he had a real challenge this round. The jolly green giant before him snickered momentarily as he noticed the look in Rickter's eye, likely feeling a boost in confidence now that the initial playing was over between them. Here he comes! The wolf mentally noted as his eyes widened, their gaze solely locked on the Ork as he closed in. He was even more impressive up close now, evergreen complexion coated with patches of black hairs, and warm chocolate brown eyes that in turn narrowed on him as the Ork closed in.

A fist came barreling forth in a nasty left hook as Rickter tucked his way from it, his gaze still locked on the Ork himself rather than just the arm, to which the brawler noticed as he switched out with a right hook; while the left fist retracted back close to his core. Rickter didn't even have a chance to launch his own counterattack, for the moment his left fist sailed forward the Ork's forearm held outstanding resistance. Damn! The wolf couldn't help but lowly growl as he still managed to lean out the other blow's direction. While he could easily shirk off these straightforward attacks, he wasn't having any luck trying to break through the fighter's defense at all. It's possible he was paying attention to me as well. Rickter figured as he pushed forward into an advance. I don't have a choice but to try and overwhelm him.

Though in this ring the conditions for that were already a challenge. No blows below the belt, no cheap shots or anything of the sort. Fighting fair was difficult when you actually had a challenge, and now Rickter felt his own blood pumping hard from the exercise. I don't have time to come up with a strategy... Sure enough the observation was backed with a physical fact, one where the Ork threw a flurry of punches into Rickter's own forearms. While the block intercepted every punch thrown at him, the wolf could feel the force of impact heavily straining on his forearms. If I want to get through that tough defense of his... Another nasty right jab from the Ork followed, with the blow strong enough to nearly cause Rickter to teeter back when he absorbed the force.

... I need to create an opening while he's attacking. How though would be the difficult part. From what he knew the fighter before him had a heavier jab with his right hand, though the left was also nothing to joke around about. Beyond that he launched his flurries of jabs up to three's in total, with the left side being the first and last arm he lashed out with. But what if he caught on? Or what if he already saw through Rickter's own observations, had a reprisal in mind for when the chance to counter finally came? There was too little information to go on about this man, but if he didn't fight back then Rickter was likely going to lose this match.

"Come on Ricky!" Telion's melodic voice called out above the cheers of the gathered crowd, snapping the wolf's introverted thoughts back into action.

To hell with it, He figured as he raised his arms once more, intercepting the first of the three blows thrown at him, I don't need to think about it... Just... The second blow smashed on his forearms once again, and Rickter grunted he felt one of his knees nearly buckle. React! Just as the third blow came Rickter shifted his arms, intercepting it with his right forearm while his left wrist still remained pressed on his wrist. Sure enough the moment the Ork's fist made contact, Rickter eased on the block to let some of the force carry on, driving the Ork's big fisted punch to draw close; and allowing his left hand to drop at just the right time to snatch it. Got it!! Without any hesitation Rickter pulled the left forearm he clutched over to his left side, putting the Ork in a vulnerable position so that he could not throw any more punches with his right side.

The Orkhan looked to him in surprise, only to heave an aggravated grunt after Rickter pelted him with a few jabs at the ribs underneath. Telion started encouraging him on as did others within the crowd, but there were obviously those favoring the other guy also. Not that it mattered, the moment Rickter socked him a few times was all he had, to which the Ork quickly turned so that when he briefly hopped, he pivoted in the air to jab from his right in a downward angle. Now while Rickter had the temporary advantage, he quickly lost that the moment he had let the Orkhan go, using his right hand to parry the blow away in just the nick of time. The Ork used that to his advantage, retreating back several steps with a low grumble in turn. "A good maneuver." He complimented at least, his head lowered now as he looked to Rickter with serious eyes.

Between the two of them Rickter obviously looked more banged up, but of course the sets of bruises on his ribs were from days prior, still it didn't mean they hurt like a bitch from time to time. Which was why the wolf was so deadset on playing the defense this round, because if he could then he'd outplay the Orkhan just by that tactic alone. The only real problem is... he was limited on what he could do, and the Ork was surely learning how to keep him from utilizing any openings. I've got this... Rickter told himself as he tightened his fists, determined to put up a hell of a fight if he had to.

"Every side attacks you when you don't pick sides."

[Talon]

a chance meeting

7th of Ash, 120 AoS

Talon took another idle sip of his beer. He remained standing just beyond the edge of the fighter’s ring. People had begun to fill back in after giving him a wide berth now that it was clear he was there as a spectator just as much as they were. The fight was a good one, that much was certain. The Orkhan fighter clearly was no stranger to the ring. His maneuvers were practiced and he showed a remarkable amount of restraint for a man his size. Without even having to bear the brunt of his blows, Talon knew that the Ork was more than capable of breaking bones if he so desired. If there was one thing he could count on though, it was the honor of an Orkhan when the rules of a fight were established. So long as that honor was respected, at any rate. The other fighter, Talon could have sworn he’d seen him from somewhere before. The human was looking far worse for wear but it was evident he was no stranger to fights either. If the bruises and his ability to take a barrage of blows was anything to go by.

The man gave as much as he received though based on his movements and from the way he handled himself in the ring, Talon would have guessed he was more accustomed to all-out brawls. His brother rarely held such contests. The fights in the High Hopes tavern were for entertainment, yes but the fighters were expected to conduct themselves according to certain rules. Talon could see the utility of both styles of fighting. On the one hand, his nature as both an Avialae warrior and a son of the Shokaze trained in disciplined combat, he grasped the necessity of such fighting styles. They enforced discipline, required more tactics and strategy as well as encouraged each fighter to more keenly pinpoint weaknesses that could be exploited in an opponent's technique. Brute force brawling lacked discipline but it also eschewed any notion that there were rules to the engagement. It was winner take all and that brought out in some fighters a streak of brutality that could be quite successful in the ring. Both forms of fighting had their time and place.

“If you were a betting man, whom would you place your money on?” Talon turned his head and looked downward to see a human man regarding him curiously. At seven feet tall, Talon towered over most humans he encountered. He towered over most people in general save for his kin and the Moratallen half-giants. The man was humbly dressed but clean in appearance. He had hair that was graying on the edges and dark brown eyes with a friendly light. In one hand was a drink of his own. The other was tucked into a pocket. Talon offered him a nod.

“They are quite a match.” Talon turned his attention back to the fight to observe the Orkhan and the human. “The human has endurance. The bruises and sturdiness of his stance says as much. He is not a blind brawler either. There is strategy in his movement but also…”

Talon watched as another maneuver played out. He sipped his beer.

“He does not seem to have the experience that the Orkhan possesses. The Ork appears to have more experience and is using more strategy but he is slower.” The man nodded as if he had observed much himself. The crowd shouted their excitement and pressed closer to the ring. The man shuffled closer and chuckled as he came to stand directly beside him. Talon folded his wings in more closely.

“My, they certainly are rowdy here.” Talon chuckled at the remark. He shook his head.

“Sir, this is tame compared to some events.” Another round of shouting drew Talon’s attention and he was immediately pulled back to the ring. He had to admit that the two fighters were impressive in their own rights. As strong of fighters as they were however, Talon had seen far more ferocious competitions than what was transpiring in front of him. The Avialae were a culture of warriors who raised their young to compete to survive within the Warrens. It was the rite of passage that marked every adult Avialae. That kind of upbringing stayed with a man, no matter what they went on to become later in life.

“I have a feeling things are about to get very exciting.” The gentleman spoke with a note of excitement but something about how he said it made a shiver go up Talon’s spine. He was prevented from looking at the man as the crowd cheered or got excited once more. He focused on the fight. Still...there was a feeling lingering in the back of his mind...a feeling that felt familiar...

"...is it his heart or his conviction?"

[Rickter]

A Chance Meeting

Ash 7th, 120th Year, A.o.S.

The Orkhan didn't halt his advance when he made his next move, as he held the determined look of an ox ready to charge. That was fine for Rickter, because he didn't intend to back down. While the wolf stood his ground he braced for another onslaught of flurries, expecting to see the Ork make his first jab from the left as he did time before. When he proceeded to lunge with a right hook instead, however, that was when Rickter knew his opponent hard started to catch on. Either that or perhaps the fighter wasn't kicking it up a notch, relying on his dominant arm now to get in good blows where he could.

Rickter suspected that the Ork knew he could wear the wolf out, and in retrospect, he very easily could all things considered. Those earlier punches packed some serious force, and if the wolf himself wasn't keen on observing his opponent, he'd say that the Ork was well-practiced enough to be holding out on him. Then again that was how fights like these were carried out were they not? They put on a show without beating one another to a bloody pulp, so they had to maintain reservations about how they were going to take down their opponent. Still, even when Rickter saw the jab that came straight for him, the wolf barely had it in him to keep from staggering back onto one foot.

I can't keep blocking his attacks like this... The wolf noted as he just briefly looked to his forearms, the left side already a heavier shade of red than the other. He's gonna try and break my own defense now, knowing that I can counter his... Which meant... he needed to adapt somehow. Those right hooks were relentless sure but there had to be an opening, and if not then Rickter merely needed to generate one.

"You got this Ricky!!" Telion's voice called out to him from behind as the two walked in circles, each contestant with their arms held up to protect their faces and upper body.

I'll move in close... and see if he'll take the bait. The wolf more or less gambled at this point, taking a step forward to where he threw his hardest punch into the Ork. As expected the fighter blocked it with relative ease, his stone-rigid biceps barely even phased by the blow even after the loud smack that was heard. The Ork quickly counteracted with his own reprisal, however, jabbing Rickter one good time in the lower abdomen before stepping forward for another blow. The wolf's innate reaction was a hissed groan as he once more staggered back, his eyes wider now that he saw the punch that came sailing right for him. Direct hit. The wolf teetered back to his left towards the ring's boundary, and the Orkhan closed in ready to assail him with a flurry of combos.

"You're mine!!"

...You wish!! Was the last thought to cross Rickter's mind as he reacted, just barely recovering his lost footing as he brought his arms up for another block. Another right jab, followed by a left, and finished with a serious right hook. Now was the part where Rickter's knees were ready to buckle, and the burning pain that radiated within his gut only made enduring those punches harder. Another serious right hook, with the Orkhan repeating the cycle once more, and sparking Rickter's mind to formulate a last-second strategy. His knees just slightly buckled this time but he remained headstrong, determined to fight back at the last possible second when he could. Here it comes!

Another nasty right hook, breaking the weathered defense Rickter maintained, followed by a left jab to which the wolf merely redirected to his right. This left Rickter open for that third and final punch this time, only as he watched the Ork throw it directly to his shoulder, the wolf turned to just narrowly shirk it and armlock the man's forearm between his bruised ribs and bicep. There was barely any time to react at that point, as the moment his opponent looked surprised, Rickter threw an underhanded jab directly into the abdomen of his foe. He went in for another, and another, before that left hand came up to grapple his fist and prevent him from assaulting the Ork any further. Both were staring fiercely at one another now, the two warriors growling as Rickter mentally felt knives raking along his left rib cage. Dammit! He's trying to break free!

But the struggle wasn't going to end so quickly, as Rickter had another idea on how he could take the man down. All he needed to do was... In one single moment, the Orkhan pulled Rickter's right arm, with just the simple grip he had on his fist no less, and used his trapped arm to help throw the wolf down onto the floor. Pinning him there even, as Rickter couldn't help but release a brief gasp of surprise in turn. His opponent had already thought of the same trick, using their strengths and Rickter's own body weight to hoist him around. If the wolf were strong enough or even quick enough earlier, he could've shifted his body to pull him on his own, going down with the Ork in the process; but likely with a shot of pinning the man down on his own afterward.

Now however it looked as though he was the loser, and the Orkhan above him smiled greatly at his effort. "You fight well, Ricky." He admitted as he'd clearly heard the wolf's blonde friend earlier. "A bit more training and practice, and you can even overpower foes stronger than me." Whether they were words of encouragement or actual wisdom, Rickter nearly scoffed at them but settled for a groan instead, admitting his defeat as the Ork released him from his hefty weight.

"You do well yourself." He complimented in return as he slowly pushed to turn over, almost completely onto his stomach before the Orkhan offered a hand to help him up. It was comparatively easier than slowly trying to push himself off the ground, though certainly not any less painful when he attempted it, as the cursed bruising underneath his ribs definitely strained the effort. Hell if he didn't even have such minor injuries, he might've actually stood more of a chance against the Ork, but there was little point in debating whether or not such was actually the case. Even so, the crowd watching them seemed to enjoy the show, showering the two with claps as they stood amid the center of the ring. Even Telion and Hannah seemed to clap for him, though one was certainly more eager about it than the other.

As he moved towards the ring's boundary, however, he noticed that among the comparatively short crowd... a figure towered above them several feet away from his companion's spot. Of course, other Avialae were present in the lobby, but the fact this one noticeably had silver wings gave him away. Rather quickly too one might add. How long's he been there I wonder... The wolf pondered for a moment when he reached his companions, looking at Telion as she reached up to pat his left shoulder.

"Every side attacks you when you don't pick sides."

[Talon]

a chance meeting

7th of Ash, 120 AoS

The contest of strength between the Ork and the human was rising in intensity. It appeared that there might not be a clear victor between the two but soon Talon could start to see the divide between the fighters. The atmosphere in the High Hopes tavern was charged with excitement as everyone rallied around their favored fighter. He could hear jeering and cheering in equal measure as one man challenged the other. He could clearly see why his brother had been keeping an eye on the human fighter. The man showed promise as a combatant but then again, so did the Ork. Talon raised his glass in cheer as both fighters got in particularly good maneuvers on each other. As he saw the human manage to wrangle the Ork into his grasp, it was then that Talon recognized him. It was the Rathari who had helped him on the ridge against the shinaegri monstrosities.

"May I ask a question, Your Highness?" Talon tilted his head in the direction of the man standing beside him. He felt that same shiver go up his spine and the nagging of something familiar dancing on the edge of his thoughts. It made the feathers of his wings rustle slightly. He pushed the feeling aside for a moment in order to focus on the man beside him. It was not uncommon for people to approach him either seeking help or attempting to curry favor with his father through him. From a very young age, Talon had grown accustomed to the fact that others would often seek to use him in their political schemes. He opened his aetheric senes up in order to perceive the aura of the man in front of him. The first thing that Talon noticed was that it felt as though he were staring through a piece of frosted glass. The aura was hazy and unfocused. If anything it seemed obscured and flittered in and out of his vision.

“You may, stranger.” The man nodded, bringing up his drink and taking a sip. Over the excitement of the crowd it was hard to focus on his aura more clearly but Talon felt that his senses were coming more and more into focus. Two beers was hardly enough to make him lose his bearing so easily.

“What would you give, to ensure your people had a future?” The man stared into the swirling drink in his cup. It was an inky black substance that seemed spread outward the more Talon stared at it. The Novalys heir narrowed his gaze, putting more effort into trying to discern the nature of the man in front of him. Frustratingly, his aura and indeed that of those things he was touching, seemed almost to flicker in and out of his sight. The more he concentrated, the more it felt as though he were just staring at a gaping blank spot in his vision.

“What do you mean?” The man brought the drink to his lips again and this time, Talon noticed that the man seemed much paler than when he’d first bumped into him. The man gulped down the liquid which looked as though it was thick and difficult to swallow. The hairs on Talon’s neck stood up. That feeling of uneasiness crept up his spine once more. He spoke as though he hadn’t even heard Talon’s question.

“Would you die for them?” Talon’s aetheric vision went completely blank then. He blinked as it was not just unfocused. It felt like it was simply gone. It felt like he had been completely cut off from the rune of magic. The power slipped out of his grasp like oil through his fingers. It was sluggish and unreachable.

“You threaten Kalzasi? I promise you a swift death for such a transgression.” Talon was without his weapons. He suddenly felt very uneasy without them and once more that odd feeling asserted itself in his chest. The man chuckled, only it sounded more like a wheeze.

“I am afraid it is much too late for that, Your Highness. Because you see…” The man dropped the cup, letting it fall to the floor. The liquid that oozed out was a brackish black and grey sludge. The hand it dropped from was more akin to a claw than a hand. The man looked up and Talon’s blood ran cold. Solid black eyes stared back, with only pinpoints of blue light for pupils. The man looked almost sad as he smiled. “...I am already dead.”

A woman screamed. Talon reached for the power of his kinetics only for the magic to fall out of his grasp as though it were not there at all. Before he could truly react, the man lunged for him. Two things happened as soon as the man touched him. It felt as though a door slammed into place, locking his magic behind it. He felt the rake of claws against his side shortly before teeth buried themselves into his shoulder. Talon screamed as a scorching pain poured into his veins. He immediately reached inside of himself and clamped down on the bond between himself and his companion, to spare him from the agony. Dimly he thought he heard Aoren shout his name. The world went black and all he could see were those pinpoints of blue light in the darkness. And then Talon remembered....

...the Archwraith had been wreathed in that same light.

----

Aoren had been fighting his whole life. He was raised in the legions of the Gelerian Imperium. All he had ever known was war, battle, and strife the whole of his existence. He’d fought because he had been made to. He’d killed because he had no other option. It had been kill or be killed. Then he had reached Kalzasi. He hadn’t known what to do with himself. He’d been running because running was what had been keeping him alive, out of reach, inaccessible to the Imperial Inquisitors. He’d been immediately recognized as an outsider. His raven wings. His accent from the south. None of the Avialae houses had made him feel welcome. He’d been alone. So he had turned to the one thing he’d known: war and carnage. He joined the Dead Legion, fully expecting it would be how he died. But then he’d met a young man in the Warrens. A young man with silver wings and eyes of steel. A young man who saw his raven wings and wasted not a single thought on what they meant.

When the ordeal had been over, Talon had found him again. Pulled him out of the death march he’d wandered into. The silver winged man with the steel in his eyes had brought him into his home. Given him a family. Given him a purpose. Talon had saved his life. Aoren had found his. It was why he went to High Hopes with hope in his heart. It was why he fought not for war and carnage but for a people and a family he could call his own. It was why he was ready to join the ring.

He stood with some of the other competitors. He was a bit sweaty, his torso was bare and it bore some of the bruises of his earlier fights in the night. But that didn’t matter. He watched the brawl between the Rathari and the Orkhan. He recognized the man from their struggle against the shamblers a few days prior. The man had certainly shown skill there. He proved he had skill in the ring as well, albeit it was clear to Aoren that he could use a bit of refinement in the finer points of hand to hand combat. He had to admit that he was impressed by what he saw and Aoren was not often impressed by many. His attention drifted away from the ring to look at the form of his companion. Talon seemed relaxed if a bit tense. His companion was more introverted than he perhaps let on. Talon fulfilled his duties without question but Aoren could see how they often took a toll on him. Aoren understood well the role of a son living in the shadow of his father. It was still good to see that he was at least enjoying himself.

The crowd cheering drew his attention and he watched the Rathari pull off a well played maneuver against the Ork. Aoren clapped, cheering just as hard as any other. It was as he was about to fold his arms over his chest that he felt a shiver in the air. Aoren’s head whipped in the direction he felt the shudder in the air. He knew that feeling. It pressed on him, like it would any magic user, smothering his ability to grasp the powers at his command. A sliver of cold dread went through him. His eyes zeroed in on Talon then shifted to the man who was close to him. Aoren’s stomach fell to the pit of his stomach. He knew what that deathly pallor meant. He knew what the black veins protruding up against paper thin skin meant. Someone screamed. Aoren was already sprinting toward Talon before it pierced the air.

“Move!” He shoved a patron out of the way, who merely shouted in confusion and outrage. But then another scream hit Aoren like a wall just as he felt the bond between himself and Talon shut down. The dark winged warrior stagged as though he’d been physically struck. His eyes widened in horror. Dimly he was aware that other people began screaming in confusion. Dimly he was aware that other pale, black veined horrors were beginning to pounce on unsuspecting patrons. But none of that mattered. The world seemed to slow down and all he could see was those steel colored eyes closed tightly in pain, a mouth opened wide as a scream of agony tore from his throat, and red blood beginning to mix with brackish black liquid.

“TALON!”

Chaos descended on the tavern. And Aoren began desperately trying to reach his charge.

"...is it the blood he spills for what he believes in?"

[Rickter]

A Chance Meeting

Ash 7th, 120th Year, A.o.S.

hat took place next within the tavern had to, most certainly, be the most unplanned thing that nobody could've prepared for. In the moment of reprieve, things suddenly changed so dramatically, that Rickter himself couldn't help but react without even thinking a step ahead of everything. Telion and Hannah were before him as they were beginning to discuss their plans for the rest of the evening, and while Rickter had listened he was also apt to look over to the other Avialae. He knew him from the other day sure enough, yet something seemed off as he had appeared a little tense earlier.

While he hadn't any idea as to what might've been the reason why, the wolf wasn't entirely ignorant to the fact something was amiss either. If anything he smelt something unusual permeating the air around them, something different from the normal things his canine senses could trace. "Rickter?" Telion's voice seemed to softly cut in and out, the two noticing how sudden his distraction was when he turned his head aside. Iron? No... That wasn't quite it. Through the bulk of what his nose could trace, within the overwhelming mixture of perfumes and natural musk, there were underlying tones of tar hidden within. Almost sickening much like those trees back within the Second Deep of the Warrens. Why here though?

His eyes were only in the general vicinity, when he noticed that the silver-winged Avialae started to go down. Not a moment too soon when he did, a scream followed with another, and another as everyone within the general crowd seemed terrorized. Yet it was in that instance Rickter reacted. He didn't think, he didn't plan, much less even register what was going on. The moment he saw the Avialae go down, confusion followed in pursuit of his mind as Rickter could only just move. "What is-" Telion and Hannah sounded startled all of a sudden and for a moment, he thought it was because of his sudden bolt for Silverwings, when in truth more of whatever caused the commotion simply appeared.

As the wolf brushed passed the few people surrounding the Avialae, what he saw nearly halted his advance completely the moment his eyes fell upon it. What looked like a regular human man earlier now had developed sickening black claws, with two lethal rows of razor-sharp teeth, and blackened eyes much like the tar-like substance that spilled from its dropped container. Reacting still without even thinking Rickter lunged at the creature, a hefty step taken forward as she shifted all his weight into that single step, while throwing his other foot out behind him to thrust it forward. Rickter's toe of the boot went hurdling forward to smash into whatever the hell was atop the Avialae, smashing hard into its underside to wrench the creature off of him. While he definitely hadn't recovered all his spent energy from earlier, the wolf was under no obligation to hold anything back either.

Therefore when his boot crashed into the body of the abomination beneath him, the creature shrieked a pained groan briefly before being flung aside like a ragdoll. Only for at least several feet at best, before it quickly writhed on the floor, claws raking into the wood eagerly as it recovered its footing. What the hell?!" He wondered as he threw a hand out behind him, calling upon his aether to materialize the bastard sword in his arsenal. Yet... Nothing. When he willed for his aether to funnel and accumulate, not a damn reaction transpired where it should've worked in the beginning. I can't use magic?! The bloodcurdling screams that followed made his stomach drop, as everyone else in the room bore witness to three more of these unusual monstrosities assailing those within the crowd.

Looking back at them Rickter even saw one lunge at his companions, and his stomach also dropped into a pit at the sight of what took place. "Telion! Hannah!" He called out without evening thinking, as his legs moved with a will of their own once more, and his form passed right around that of another. The raven-winged Avialae. Their encounter with one another had been so brief, much like before, and yet in that moment, they both shared the same innate concern. And while Rickter would've continually defended the other Avialae without question, the sight of his own friends being assaulted by one of these creatures provoked him even more. The ghoulish creature that approached them slashed at them once, with Hannah and Telion backing away as the bard threw a hand out to cast something. Anything.

Yet nothing...

"Telly look out!" Hannah called as she pulled to twist in front of Telion, while the ghoul threw its other set of claws out to slash at the brunette in the process. In that sole moment, Rickter heard the rip of cloth take place as Hannah cried out, alarming him and Telion both that she'd been inflicted with an injury at her back.

"Hannah!!"

Telion's tone was utterly desperate with concern and fear, and it was only a brief moment in which he saw them, but the look in her eyes was one of complete horror and helplessness. They weren't prepared... nobody was. But with the ensuing chaos within the tavern, the fight quickly broke out between those who could combat these creatures, and those who could get away as that exact fight unfolded. Even the Orkhan that Rickter fought earlier quickly joined the fray, while Rickter himself closed in on the ghoul from behind. With a reddened face and a look of anger in his very eyes, the wolf brought his arms up to lock around the limbs of the creature, pulling it away from the ladies it dared to threaten as he released it into a hurl. The wolf was furious by now, enough to lose himself entirely in the state he was in.

As he lunged at the ghoul he threw aside, the creature hissed and quickly turned over to recover, lunging at him in turn as he closed in on the creature. The wolf didn't care what happened to him at this point, he was too enraged at what it had done to Hannah, what it had attempted to do to both of his friends at that moment. Thus while the creature's claws jutted forth, Rickter shirked to the left to avoid the first blow, while the second arm lashed out to graze him during his delayed timing of another dodge, raking into his left shoulder as he finished closing the gap between him and the creature itself. The wolf innately growled viciously both from the pain and from reaching his opponent, as he threw a hard jab at the ghoul's lower abdomen.

Judging from the reaction it looked as though these things could feel pain, all the more reason why Rickter didn't plan to hold back at that very moment. While the first punch slammed hard into the ghoul, the muscles of his left arm stiffened before reacting, launching his fist forward to slam the creature half as fiercely as the first. He wouldn't stop there, not even a wound to the shoulder was going to hold him back. Repeating the cycle with his right arm Rickter assailed the creature, chaining each hard punch with another to beat the creature into suppression. Yet it was as he was punching at the damned thing he started to change, his growls were bellows of rage that slowly increased in weight. His muscles radiated heat as the hairs on his skin grew longer and thicker, and slowly but surely within each punch, the rage within brought more and more of the beast out of him.

"Every side attacks you when you don't pick sides."

[Talon]

a chance meeting

7th of Ash, 120 AoS

Kalzasi was not a city where its inhabitants remained ill-prepared for very long. Too many years fighting the horrors of the Warrens. Too many people accustomed to fending off pain and suffering at a moment’s notice. Among the crowd, the other Avialae who had been present, immediately moved to confront the creatures that were trying to rip through the crowd. In a tavern where people had gathered to observe and participate in skilled fights either for entertainment or personal gain, those fighters who had not been in the ring quickly rose to the defense of the patrons who were less able. In swift succession, two of the creatures were set upon almost as soon as those near them gathered their senses. It was only a matter of time before the creatures were brutally put down by the very patrons they sought to prey upon.

Aoren regained his composure almost as soon as he’d lost it. That staggered step, that moment’s hesitation, it brought him more pain than he would ever forgive himself for. The raven winged warrior closed the distance between himself and his charge faster than he really registered. He was baring his teeth at the monstrosity just as the wolf Rathari went charging past him to engage with another of the monsters that had been set loose upon the tavern. Aoren was enraged. He was livid. But most of all? He was afraid. His eyes glanced down at Talon. The silver winged Avialae lay on the floor, sickly pale with blood covering one of his shoulders.

“You…” The creature opened its maw displaying rows of teeth. Aoren clenched his fists. “...you die for this.”

“Aoren!” The voice he immediately registered as that of Riens. Glancing up, he caught a shortsword just as the other came sprinting forward. Aoren didn’t wait. He lunged for the creature. It bounded off to the side but instead of engaging him, it immediately attempted to go for Talon once more. Aoren let out a cry of anger as he rolled across the floor, landing squarely in front of the monster before it could take another bite out of his companion. The monster shrieked as the sword in Aoren’s hands slashed across its outstretched claws. The raven winged warrior did not stop. He flourished the blade, catching the abomination in the forearm, hacking through one of them. It screeched in a high pitched squeal that sent shivers down Aoren’s spine. He saw others grab their heads as they covered their ears in pain. Aoren took that moment to bring the blade back around and shove the end of it through the creature’s skull.

The screeching was silenced and he heard behind him the sounds of other fighters putting an end to the beasts that tried to prey upon them. He didn’t linger on that thought. Whirling around, Aoren immediately went to the side of his charge.

“Talon!” At his companion’s side was Rien, he handed the sword to Rien who accepted it without hesitation. Kneeling beside Talon, Aoren did a quick inspection of the wound. It was deep but it was only a flesh wound. It could be healed. But his partner looked incredibly pale and Aoren could just barely feel the edges of the bond between them. Through the doorway a contingent of armed and armored Sky Guard came rushing into the tavern but the fighting had dwindled down to nothing by then.

“You!” Aoren pointed at one of the nearest guard who entered the tavern. The man was a human. “Set a perimeter around the tavern. No one leaves without being questioned! This was no random incursion!”

“Who are--?” Aoren was on his feet and had the guard by the collar of his tabard before the man could finish the sentence.

“I am ordering you by right of my authority as a Knight-Captain of the Royal Guard. Do as I say! Now!” He released the guardsman who straightened himself. With a nod he turned to the other guard who began following through with Aoren’s instructions. When he turned around, Rien was hefting Talon up and draping an arm across one shoulder. Immediately he went to the opposite side and draped the other arm over his shoulders. Aoren scanned the crowd until his eyes came to rest on the wolf Rathari.

“Wolf. Come with me.” His eyes passed to the other beside him. The two women whom he’d gone to defend. “Bring them.”

With that, Aoren helped Rien carry Talon up the stairs and to one of the larger rooms where he could be laid down to rest and be tended to. Once inside the room, Aoren very gently helped lay Talon down upon the bed. He took the sword by Rien’s hip and cut off the silver winged Avialae’s shirt, exposing his injury. The veins nearest the wound were black in color which caused Aoren to frown in concern. Talon groaned, his brow furrowing in pain. Aoren gently swept his fingers across the Novalys heir’s brow, sweeping strands of hair out of the way. He pushed at the edges of their bond, trying to work through the fog that seemed to be clouding it. He felt it give a little and as soon as it did, pain lanced through Aoren’s skull. He winced and shook off the momentary pain as it faded to a dull throb.

“Rien, you must go to the palace. Travel with an escort.” Rien frowned. Both of them glanced over to others as they entered the room.

“I will not leave my brother’s side.” Aoren looked up from Talon’s face. There was a strong part of him desperate to remove that pained grimace there. He leveled Rien with a stare.

“They were trying to kill him. This was not random. The creature immediately attempted to disengage with me and go for Talon. This attack started with an attack on Talon. I suspect the other monsters were just a distraction.” Rien shook his head. The proud Novalys was in full defender stance. His wings were slightly flared and there was a hard look in his eyes.

“Those monsters attacked our people, Aoren! They--” Aoren snapped, his nerves on edge. He rose to his feet and grabbed Rien by the shoulder.

“Dammit, Rien! You are the Second Son of House Novalys! You are your father’s heir! Your elder brother is wounded and for all we know he is poisoned! This attack was not on PEOPLE, Rien. It was on YOU and YOUR family! Now go to the palace! Go where we can be sure that you are SAFE!” Rien stared at Aoren for a long moment of silence. His jaw flexed before he let out a breath.

“As soon as he awakens…” No more needed to be said. The two merely shared a look between them before nodding. Rien handed the blade to Aoren who took it quietly before watching the Second Son of House Novalys leave the room. He could already hear the heavy booted footsteps of soldiers making their way up. As Rien closed the door he heard him begin giving instructions. Aoren turned his attention to the others in the room. He studied them for a few moments before speaking. His words crisp and commanding.

“Your names.”

"...or is it the lives he commits to saving?"

[Rickter]

A Chance Meeting

Ash 7th, 120th Year, A.o.S.

He was lost in the moment when everything else took place, the rage which Rickter succumbed too the only thing he could focus on. So what better way to get it out of his system, other than to constantly bash the very thing that harmed one of his friends? There was no real thought to it actually, whether they were friends or not, Rickter really only lashed out because of what drove him by that point. Instinct. For what it was worth it governed every fiber in his being, so naturally when it felt good to punch the shit out of something; the wolf couldn't help but continually enjoy that feeling as he quickly overpowered the ghoul before him.

There wasn't even an ounce of fighting spirit left in the damned creature, as the wolf slugged him on and on with little to no relent, with the fury coursing through more than just his fists. Fourteen. Another slug from the left. Fifteen. Another blow from the right. Sixteen. By that point, the shriek throughout the tavern snapped him out of his episode, and caused Rickter to jolt as he brought fists up to cover his earholes in earnest. One such as him would never hope to have to endure that kind of sound, as for him it felt like his very eardrums were about to rupture. Yet just as quickly as the cry had been emitted, silence immediately followed when the raven-winged Avialae dispatched it.

As for the rest? The Orkhan and other fighters gathered there were quick to react, and subdue the threat before any real collateral damage ensued. There may have been one or few people injured such as Hannah, but ultimately it looked as though the fight was over just as quickly as it began. Exhaustion wracked his very muscles as Rickter's arms grew heavier, and when his vision seemed to focus once again, the very ghoul he'd beaten into a wall looked twice as unrecognizable. Bruising littered its entire face as black sludge-like blood trickled from its mouth and nose, with what few gargled coughs the creature could spout low as it limply sank to the tavern floor. The wolf's eyes moved from it to his own hands, which were also covered in smudges of red and black now. Had he really beaten this thing to death? Or just senseless?

The fact he could lose himself to such a rage was dreadful enough, but when he looked back to Telion and Hannah he felt even more fear. "Hannah!" Telion muttered as she helped her friend stand on her feet, while the brunette herself groaned and hung her head back with a heavy sigh.

"Dammit that hurt." She brashly admitted as she hung over Telion's shoulder, before Rickter approached to assess the situation.

"Ricky!" Telion reacted upon his approach once more, her face still pale from shock as she watched him draw close to Hannah.

"Here." He offered as he reached out to help hold her up, only to be glared at by the brunette before he even touched her.

"I'm fine..." She told him sternly, and of course, Rickter didn't very well like that. "It's just a scratch, besides you're bleeding too if you haven't noticed." Wait he was? The wolf looked to his left shoulder and, much to his surprise, he still bled from the few scratches that the ghoul made earlier.

"You both look pretty banged up, we should get that patched soon." Telion remarked as she looked toward Aoren, who was giving some very stern commands to the Skyguard that entered the building. Rickter and Hannah both looked to him also, but it was Rickter who looked especially concerned for the other. Silver-wings. He didn't have enough time to get to the man, and from the looks of it, he certainly wasn't doing any better either. Pale skin, black blood veins, these things were targeting him for sure... why they went for others in the process though was beyond Rickter. Why would one attack his friends like that? The others were too quickly dispatched for him to know what they did, but if they'd gone after others instead of the Avialae then... what was their goal in this? Confusion?

He didn't like it one bit, and when the black-winged Avialae addressed him; Rickter gazed at him momentarily with narrowed eyes. He wanted the wolf to follow him? And his friends also? Both Telion and Hannah looked to him nervously, but when he looked down at them, they only required a nod at Raven-wings to follow after. Naturally though when they started to move, Rickter pressed the issue once more, only this time he didn't let Hannah say no to him. Instead, he waited til they were in front of him, in which the wolf proceeded to scoop the injured woman into his right arm, and cradle her against it so that he avoided pressing against her back injury. Naturally, Hannah fussed and remained stubborn, but when she saw the fierceness in Rickter's eyes, she grudgingly lessened her revolt and gave in.

The lot went upstairs into a room where they would be given privacy, no doubt on behalf of Silver-wings since he was apparent nobility. Rickter had quickly determined that from their last encounter on the cliffs of the Astralar Mountains, back when he joined that group in response to the Shinaegri horde. But the new connections he discovered were somewhat of a mystery, one he'd taken to mentally gauge for himself after he'd helped sit Hannah in a chair. "Thanks." The brunette remarked to him still a little defiantly, though there was also timidness in her tone now also. Whatever walls she tried to project with him before, Rickter was certain she didn't have the strength to maintain them now. Not that it mattered, Telion was quick to reach her side, and inspect the few scratch marks that went across her upper back.

"They don't look too serious, but we should still bandage them up." She remarked with a glance at Ricky, suddenly curious as to why his gaze remained fixated on Silver-wings and Raven-wings. This third who was the tavern owner... apparently he was named Rien, and the brother to the Silver-winged Avialae. Talon. Names were beginning to stick as he'd third partied their conversation, merely listening as he started to draw conclusions from what had happened earlier. So Talon was indeed of noble birth here, though the extent of that was beyond him up until now. Of the names he was aware of, Novalys was the house with claims to the seat of power in Kalzasi. Talon belonged to that lineage so, in a way, what happened in the lobby downstairs was about him overall. So then why?

The blue eyes of the wolf wandered back to Telion and Hannah now, the bard herself confused as to what was going on within his mind. Why them? He couldn't use his magic earlier... Nor could Telion when she tried, as he'd nearly forgotten she'd attempted to cast earlier. "I think... we should..." Telion spoke lowly but Rickter raised a finger, prompting her to remain silently patient as Rien and this Aoren fellow argued for a moment. So Rien and Talon were also brothers, a pretty important thing to note, considering that meant he too would be of House Novalys. So imagine the wolf's questions when his mind revolved around his part in all this, and how he'd managed to get caught up in their affairs not once... but twice.

Coincidence is what it boiled down to really, both parties being in the same place at the same time honestly. Yet something larger felt at work here, and in being prompted to share their names, the wolf simply looked over to his companions firsthand. The bard still looked utterly lost and confused, but knowing Rickter's quiet gestures at this point, she shifted to stand straight and slightly bow to Aoren with her introduction. "My name is Telion, and this is my friend Hannah." The brunette barely moved in her chair as she clearly appeared uncomfortable, with an arm planted on a knee as she used her other hand, and sifted locks of hair over one shoulder.

When the two had finished greeting Aoren, Rickter looked from them to the raven-winged warrior himself, before shifting his eyes down toward Talon pensively. "Rickter." He simply stated as Telion moved to inspect his shoulder, to which he merely grunted in disapproval when she urged for him to sit down. "It's just a scratch."

"Says the man who keeps throwing himself in harm's way!" Telion remarked bitterly as she still nagged him to sit, to which he finally gave in and took a seat in a chair next to Talon's bed. "I swear, every time I turn around it's something new with you..." She remarked as she started to reach down at her tunic, slowly beginning to shred straps from it if someone didn't stop her.

"Every side attacks you when you don't pick sides."

[Talon]

a chance meeting

7th of Ash, 120 AoS

Aoren observed the three people in front of him. He would not call himself the best judge of character in most social situations. He gave virtually no one the benefit of the doubt and was immediately suspicious of anyone he came across. He typically deferred to Talon’s judgement with regard to dealing with people. His companion’s insight into the moods and motives of those around him made him a man who was more difficult to fool than most. At least, when he used his gifts to such a degree. As they introduced themselves, Telion, Hannah and the wolf, Rickter. Aoren offered each of them a slight nod of his head. It was not for lack of appreciation for the introduction so much as he was still on edge and was working to calm himself down. It did not help that the dull throb in the back of his skull was constantly reminding him of how much pain his partner and charge was in.

“I am Aoren. Knight-Captain of the Argent Hand, Companion and bodyguard to His Royal Highness, Prince Talon Alexios of House Novalys.” Aoren gestured to the form of his companion behind him on the bed. Talon was still pale. There was a thin sheen of sweat upon his brow. Aoren frowned heavily, his gaze filled with concern.

“You are in the presence of the Shokaze’s firstborn son. His direct heir...and the guard who failed to protect him.” The last was said firmly and clearly, with a tightening of Aoren’s jaw as he made plain his failure to protect his charge. “So I would ask a not-so-simple thing from you.”

Aoren studied the three individuals in front of him. Rickter, the wolf, had proven himself as a capable fighter. This was the second time that the man had immediately rushed to provide assistance in the heat of a dangerous situation. Such bravery, even if reckless, held incredible merit. Aoren wanted to believe it was because the man had good intentions and honestly acted out of a desire to protect. The reaction of witnessing his friends in danger that Aoren had glimpsed, told him that this was something he could trust.

“Help me keep him safe. At least until he can be moved from here. You will be compensated for the effort.” Aoren searched their faces. “We do not know where this attack came from but it was clear to me that Prince Talon was one of, if not the, target.”

At that moment, a groan came from behind him. Aoren’s attention immediately turned to Talon who drew in a shuddering breath.

---

Talon cracked open his eyes. The light in the room, though soft, was still enough to make him wince. His head throbbed painfully but almost as soon as he felt the ache, he felt a firm but gentle presence reach into his mind and take some of that pain away. His grey eyes searched the room and immediately fell upon the concerned features of his companion. Talon moved to sit up. As soon as he moved, the room spun and he nearly collapsed back into unconsciousness. A strong arm slipped behind his back, helping him to sit up. With effort, he adjusted his wings so that he could sit up comfortably.

“Easy, my prince. Easy.” Talon heard Aoren’s voice but it felt as though he were listening through a haze. Reaching up a shaking hand he clumsily tried to run his fingers through his hair. All he managed to do was limply brush away a few strands from his face. Aoren ended up threading his fingers through his hair before dropping his hand. Talon caught it and grasped it as tightly as he was able. He smiled up at his companion weakly.

“How do we keep ending up like this, my friend?” Talon’s voice was hoarse. Aoren smiled at him.

“Fate or Chaos. I am not certain at this point.” Talon chuckled at the response which made his head spin. He hissed in pain before glancing around the room. His eyes settled on three others.

“To whom do I owe my life?” Talon had enough of his wits about him to know that Aoren would not have allowed just anyone to be in the room with him following an attack. The man, who Talon recognized as the fighter from the ring, looked a bit worse for wear. The two women beside him, one tending to his wounds, looked familiar. He chalked it up to her and her counterpart being regulars at the tavern.

[Rickter]

A Chance Meeting

Ash 7th, 120th Year, A.o.S.

While Rickter had slowly been grasping at who their present company was, the two ladies that were with him knew little about Kalzasi, much less of the noble houses that influenced every aspect of the city. Yet it was clear from the look on their faces, that they were surely in awe at the sound of someone royalty in their midst. Clearly, the both of them had never anticipated meeting nobility while here, then again Rickter never once planned for it to happen either. It just did. "So in other words," Hannah remarked as she watched Telion continue to shred straps from the bottom of her tunic, "that man is someone rather invaluable to you."

Rickter stared hard at her with that observation, knowing that she was simply grasping at straws here. From the sound of it though she was doing more than grasping, and her eyes narrowed inquisitively on the unconscious form lying nearby. What Aoren had to ask of them was rather simple in truth, though as it were, Rickter already felt inadequate to the task already. He couldn't protect Talon earlier, he could barely protect him from Shamblers before... What made the Knight-Captain believe him so capable even now? "He's more than just invaluable." The wolf corrected which garnered a pique of interest from Hannah, while Telion finally started to press her makeshift bandages down and wrap them around his shoulder. Rickter couldn't help but inwardly grunt a time or two, as the applied pressure on the wound stung a couple of times. Needless to say, he continued to elaborate, while Telion carefully worked to the best of her abilities.

"Shokaze is a lofty title here in Kalzasi, and if Talon is the son of one then that means he's an heir. Royalty if you will."

"So then what happened in the lobby..." Telion weighed in with a pause to her wrapping, likely already connecting the significance of the attack they just survived.

"Precisely." Rickter then looked from his companions to Aoren, his expression still somewhat grim after everything that had happened. "I can't promise I'll be able to, but I'll do my best to keep him safe..." Telion finished the wrapping of his shoulder then, the work shoddy and certainly novice material, but even with his wounds mostly covered it was the ease of mind; for his companions anyways. Rickter hardly regarded the fact he was injured, much less showed discomfort where he found it.

"I'll help too." Telion added in, warranting a stern look from the wolf in return.

"First Hannah needs to be looked after, she'll need you to do that." Telion's face grew sullen, as if what took place earlier severely troubled her. "You couldn't cast, not because you didn't have it in you, it was the fault of those 'things' that you couldn't use your magic." The revelation of the fact made her seem all the more aware now. "No doubt you felt it too, a sudden mute to your abilities? I couldn't even call upon my sword when I needed it most." It was then Rickter looked firmly at Aoren, weighing in on a fact that bothered him even more. "Target or not, Talon wasn't the only one they attacked. Their intentions weren't aimless to be sure, otherwise, my companions here wouldn't have been attacked as well." This led to the burning question in Rickter's mind, yet he had the opportunity to ask it at that moment.

Talon seemed to finally stir and while still incredibly pale, he slowly regained some of his senses with help from his Captain. It was strange to Rickter as he could visibly see the bond they shared, not literally but the closeness between them was palpable. From what the wolf could surmise, the two clearly had been through enough together to be so close. Fairly quickly Aoren was the first to be seen by Talon, and the questionable irony posed in his statement nearly loosened Rickter's firm lips. Fate or chaos? That was similar to what Rickter described much of his life, and the ordeals he's lived through to make it to where he was today. Regardless once the Avialae was helped up, his eyes fell upon the three with but a sole question in mind, one that Rickter remained reluctant to answer. Owe? One quick glance at Hannah and he could see in her eyes, noting how quickly of an opportunist she would've been, as she herself not enduring similar treatment from Telion.

Yet while the bard herself still attempted to patch wounds with shoddy work, she couldn't help but look past her shoulder at Talon, and then briefly to Rickter with curiosity in her eyes. Why? Why couldn't he admit it? It was an easy question to answer, and yet somehow Rickter didn't want to answer it. At least, not in a simple way. "Yourself." He finally remarked to the Shokaze heir. "The events which led up to this moment are for you to decide on later. For now, you owe yourself a means of recovery." He looked from Talon to Aoren then, curious as to what the plan was for them next.

"How is it we intend to move him? And where to exactly from here?"

"Every side attacks you when you don't pick sides."