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furry games and gaming discussions => furry role-playing => Topic started by: Sledge on January 17, 2016, 09:53:29 pm
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Since this is going to be a completely new story, universe, etc, I'll set up some cards here to begin with.
Name: Prowl Silva
Species: Grey wolf
Age: 19
Gender: female
Height: 5' 6"
Weight: 120
Appearance: slim athletic build, angled, almost feline facial features. Solid white coat with silver eyes. Black nose and foot/hand pads.
Clothing, weaponry, and personality seem to work better when they're fluid.
Anything else we need, sir?
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Name: Maximus Vel-Vardeh
Species: Ethiopian Wolf(actually a fox species...)
Gender: Male
Height: 6' 10"
Weight: 200lbs
Appearance: Tall, lanky, but every pound on his frame a muscle. Ochre fur, with dense white undercur. Stark green eyes, darkly colored nose/paw pads.
I think I'm going to take the exotic approach this go around.
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Sounds interesting. I'll have the intro up in a sec.
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The ring of steel on steel and the cries of fallen warriors filled the night air as the Lupirnen army clashed with an overwhelming enemy, slowly losing ground to their foes. The sound of stone crumbling soon added in as the wall along the outside of the giant city fell. As they rushed through the hole in the wall, one of Maximus' generals rode up to him, the heavy axe on his back dripping War Wolf blood. "We've broken through the outer wall, my lord. These ice dogs are stubborn, but we're pushing them back towards the castle."
In the castle, Prowl paced behind the massive ironwood doors, dressed in her white leather armor. Her sword was belted to her hip and her bow was across her back beside her quiver; she was accompanied by fifteen of her elite guards, all standing by at the moment, silent within their heavy tungsten armor. She had been forbidden by her adopted father to actually fight in the war going on outside, but nobody had said anything against being ready in case it came to her.
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Maximus's lips twisted up into a cruel smile. "Perfect." The Ethiopian wolf muttered, dismounting. "Enough. No more of the zebras. I will end my own war on foot." The tall, lanky Ethiopian wolf was quick and agile, trained extensively in the use of spears and javelins, with a good skill with swords and maces. Dressed in tribal armor, with sections of pelts from killed enemies(imagine this, but for a really tall and lanky male built like an NBA player http://fav.me/d4qucnw ). It gave the general a fearsome appearance as he jogged through the streets with his elite tribal lancers, who exclusively used spears and javelins. "Thank the mages! This place would be too damn cold without them!" Maximus called, as the elite lancers moved behind the vanguard of the army towards the castle.
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A large group of War Wolf soldiers marched around a corner ahead of Maximus, just a short ways from the castle. They crouched in a phalanx, their tower shields forming a wall between the houses on either side of the street. Archers behind them stood and drew their bows, releasing a volley of arrows towards them.
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Maximus signaled his men, and a quarter of them broke off to go down a parallel side street to attack the war wolves from behind. Another quarter pulled up short and let loose a salvo of javelins that flew over the shield wall. The archer's volley had taken out several of the invading troops, but not enough to convince Maximus that what he did next was a bad idea. After splitting up, the remaining half of elite lancers ran towards the shield wall and used their spears to pole-vault over it, therefore rendering it useless as they came down literally on the heads of the war wolves.
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Maximus' tactic proved very successful, only a few of the War Wolves managing to draw their blades and fend off the lancers behind them. The archers turned to run, only to get cut off from behind as they were outflanked by the other group, getting off another good volley of arrows before they were overrun. Those wielding swords put up a good fight, but were outnumbered and finally fell after a short battle, leaving the road open to the thick doors of the castle.
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Maximus waited a moment for his lancers to regroup, before setting off down the road towards the castle. The lancers drew up just beyond bow shot of the walls. After a moment, Macimus came forward with three other lancers. One had a white pennant tied to his lance, he walked alongside Maximus, with two more of the elite lancers following behind them. Once they were within hailing distance of the castle walls, the general's party stopped. "You have three options. You surrender unconditionally and only the rebellious will die. You fight and all of your armies, all of your men, will die. The final option is that of single combat. Your champion against me. Should I prove victorious, your nation becomes the vassal of my own. If I should be defeated, My armies shall advance no further into your lands. This offer of mercy is not necessary. Surrender, accept the challenge, or die!" The general spoke with conviction, his words loud and clear.
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No matter how hard Prowl tried to accept the challenge Maximus proposed, the War Wolf elite refused to let her meet him on his terms. Instead, they sent the archers of their rank up to the top of the gate, where they answered his demands with a volley of arrows. Prowl continued to pace, but readied her bow, thinking their enemies would eventually break through. They were outnumbered, and so far, numbers had been the deciding factor.
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Maximus and his party retreated beyond bow shot, the general furious at the poor attempt to kill him. Snarling as he snapped off an arrow embedded in his left forearm. "THOSE INSOLENT MONGROLS!! ENOUGH!!! NO MORE MERCY, THE FIRED ON A FLAG OF TRUCE AND BROKE THE LAWS OF WAR!!" Maximus shouted, growling as he stared down his men clustered around him. Maximus had been lenient so far, obeying the law of war, doling out no undue cruelty, but now, that changed. "Fetch me the mages and the healers, see to it that the walls are crushed, and then bring me every child left in this city. That castle can't hold everyone, and I don't think it's worth the lives of our brothers to sack it." The general licked his lips, a dangerous fire burning coolly in his eyes. "I know just how to get them to come out of it, or surrender..." The pelts incorporated into his armor came from adult foes, but that was only because the general had shown mercy to those people...
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The group nodded in unison and ran off to do as told, coming back a short time later with a decent sized group of children, most of whom were crying loudly. A few had fought back and we're now chained, having managed to take out one of the soldiers together.
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Upon the children's arrival, the rest of the vulpine army had gathered around the castle, the bulk near the main square where the general and his elite companies were camped. Houses had been occupied, but a sizable number had been put carefully to the torch, the blaze kept under control by the mages. All told, it was easy to see how grossly outnumbered the war wolves were. Maximus was beyond bows hot of the castle walls, but in clear view, with a bonfire nearby. The children were gathered in front of general Maximus, who selected one at random to come forward. "Your people broke the law..." Maximus said quietly, a viscously curved skinning knife in one hand. "Now you're going to pay for it." The tall, long armed and long-legged Ethiopian wolf snatched the child, pulling him closer and placing the sharp edge of the skinning knife at the child's throat. One of the traveling illusionists conjured up the image and magnified Maximus's voice. "Surrender now, or each of these children will die, slowly and surely. I am not without mercy, however. The offer of single combat still stands, but now, regardless of outcome, these lands are mine! A victory would see these insolent whelps returned to die inside the castle." Vel-Vardeh snarled the words, drawing blood with the knife to accentuate the point. Maximus didn't kill the young fur, simply cut the young fur skin deep.
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The scene before the castle distracted the guards long enough for Prowl to slip out of the Castle gates. She approached him calmly, drawing her short sword and pointing it at him to call him out on his challenge. She appeared calm on the outside, but her heart was pounding, all of her training leading up to this point. As she approached, she appeared as an angel on the battlefield, her head held high with confidence, and her steps sure.
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Upon spotting Prowl's approach, Vel-Vardeh released the wolf cub back to the children, who were surrounded by armed soldiers with spears leveled. The illusion stopped, leaving a deathly calm. "A challenger." Vel-Vardeh said simply, sheathing his skinning knife to take up his short spear. Outwardly confident, much taller than this pathetic she-wolf who approached him, the leader of the horde squared up against her. "Hmm, a little girl who's lost her way. Tell me, are you stupid, are just plain dumb? I'm wearing more enemies than you've ever fought, girl." Vel-Vardeh kept his stance loose and even, keeping a good distance between them. Good for his spear. Prowl would have to charge in past his spear to get to Vel-Vardeh with her sword. That put her at a distinct disadvantage.
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Prowl smirked confidently and spun her blade, the white steel glinting in the now warm air. "Did you have your army kill them for you too?" She asked with a somewhat snarky tone, biding her time as she studied her enemy. Her confident demeanor didn't falter, and she kept in a ready position, where she could dodge or attack equally as easily.
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"Of course not. The best way to get a pelt is to skin while your prey is still alive." Vel-Vardeh replied, snorting. The tall, lanky vulpine moved with surprising speed, stepping forward into a thrust. It was a feint, as Maximus twisted the spear at the last moment for a sideways cut with the spear's blade. The dance had begun. Maximus kept an air of confidence, handling his spear easily, even though the weapon was as long as Maximus was tall.
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Prowl spun to the side, slashing downward against Maximus' spear and causing it to just nick her armor, then continued the spin to move herself forward, slashing across Maximus' off hand.
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Maximus snarled as the blade cut his hand, but continued forward past Prowl, to smash the pointed butt of the spear into her back as she went past him. Maximus didn't slow, but instead continued forward to turn around and face Prowl. Granted, the back blow was a dirty move, most spears didn't have a steel-shod point on their butt. However, Maximus wasn't about to fall to some barely of age girl who dressed up in fancy armor. A war wolf she may be, but a child was all prowl was to Maximus.
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Prowl growled as the spear butt hit her flat in the middle of her back, causing her to stumble and almost fall; she recovered by rolling forward and came back up, twisting around and sliding a short ways backwards as she dispelled her momentum. She spun her blade once more as she sidestepped around Maximus, watching for an opening.
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Maximus circled her warily, eyes open for any attack. After a few moments of just circling, Macimus reached into his belt with lightning and threw a throwing knife at prowl, not bothering to see if it hit before lunging in with the spear to try and catch the unprepared warrior in the side with the blade. It was a move that even the seasoned warriors could not counter effectively. (If you want this to end quickly, have prowl give up after getting stabbed in the side by the spear. If you want this to continue and have the castle sacked with prowl wounded, have her dodge. If your goal is to take Maximus captive, then break his spear, and do so. The horde will abandon him.)
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(No, he's supposed to win and take over, so I'll go with this... On a side note, the way you worded that made me think of one of those chose your own adventure books. (: )
Prowl managed to dodge the throwing knife, but ended up dodging into Maximus' second attack, crying out and dropping her blade at the sharp pain of the spear biting into her side.
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(Hmm. Kinda does, now that I look at it. (: )
Maximus withdrew the spear, smirking in satisfaction at the large wound it left in Prowl's side. The general flicked away her sword with the spear blade, sending it flying out of reach. He approached, and dropped to one knee to where Prowl had fallen to her knees, clutching at the gaping wound in her side. Maximus's eyes held no mirth, and his smile was a merciless grin. One hand held the spear aloft, as he knelt down beside her. "Relax, child. There are few who can combat that. You aren't one of them." Maximus let out a short bark of laughter, before his gaze became serious and he used his free hand to bring Prowl's face up to meet his. "You failed, little girl. Your castle will fall. You will die a failure, with no mark made on history. Your pelt will adorn the others on my armor. I am not without mercy. You did fight, alone, I commend you for that. So I offer you a choice. Pledge yourself to me," the general stood and kicked her over, leveling the spear blade against her throat before he continued, "Or die."
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"If you kill me, you've lost all the same." Prowl said, attempting to sound forceful, but not managing it so well in her current state. "My father's the king, and his warriors won't stop until you're dead..." She seemed almost smug, not realizing what she'd just given away.
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Maximus's ears perked. "You don't say..." The general said softly, motioning for the healers to come over. "Well, you may have saved your people after all, little whelp." The Ethiopian wolf smirked again, raising the spear and planting it firmly next to prowl's head, close enough to nick her ear. "You're about to pass out from blood loss, but I promise you, your daddy won't lay a finger on me, or you. Nor will you ever get another glimpse of that castle of yours. Enjoy your look, because it will be your last." The general strode away, as prowl was surrounded by soldiers and healers. What the general had said was true, the world was fading fast, and her armor around the wound was stained red.
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Prowl collapsed as he walked away, and reached for her sword well out of her reach as her vision grew dim. She gave one last fight as the world went black, ramming her fist into a soldier's jaw with surprising force for the condition she was in, then completely blacking out soon after.
(Skip...)
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Prowl was stabilized and borne away, secured within the elite camp. Maximus on the other hand, had plans to make....
Six hours later, Prowl awoke in a tent. The interior was richly decorated, carpeted with fine furred rugs, the walls decorated with patterned rugs taken from conquered lands. Rich, scented smoke filled the air inside. Incense burned in a couple braziers, two by the door and three more scattered against the walls. The tent was circular, with little furniture. A low table with pillows for seats, a large cot with thick fur blankets was opposit prowl. A fire burned in the center of the tent, warming it uncomfortably so. There was a chest at the foot of the cot, with an armor and weapon rack nearby. On it hung a surprisingly civilized-looking set of leather armor, along with a richly decorated spear. Prowl was bound in a kneeling position, her hands secured behind her, tied together tightly with small rope and little slack. Her ankles were bound likewise, and both were roped together to a stake driven deep into the ground. So deep, in fact, prowl couldn't budge it. The war wolf princess's armor had been taken off and piled nearly beside her. Prowl was wearing a white wool shirt and leggings that fit her well. Maximus sat on the cot, looking at prowl intently. The general's armor had been cleaned. "Are you all right?" Maximus's voice was full of concern, as was evidenced by the look of caring in his eyes as well.
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Prowl looked up groggily at first, confused as to where she was, then coming to rather quickly. She pulled at the ropes as hard as she could, to no avail, not noticing Maximus until he spoke; glaring at him for an uncomfortably long time once he did. "And you care why?" She finally asked, her voice as cold as the lands she lived in.
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Maximus snorted, smiling briefly. He'd expected a response like that. "Because, darling, all of this," Maximus gestured to the armor he was wearing, the one adorned with pelts. "All of this is an act. I am not a merciless savage. Nor do I skin people alive withou just cause. These pelts came from those who killed their families. Your people think we're barbaric savages who skin people alive, so I decided to act the part. It worked. You have believed my forces to be inferior every step of the way, but you've underestimated us and now it's time to capitulate to is. Our rule, while I have no doubt that at first it will be hated, will benefit your lands greatly. Roads, aqueducts, a civil service. We will give this all, and a voice of the people in the government. That stagnant, polluted monarchy with its squabbling nobles will be swept away, once and for all." Maximus sat back, sighing. Momentarily, the vulpine was lost in thought, thinking of what was to come. Then he shook his head and leaned forward again. "The King is coming here. I will try to reason with him, but I'm afraid that he may not see the proper path. I'll have to kill him then. It'd be a shame, really. I always need a local figurehead governor, keeps rebellions down." Maximus sounded regretful at the thought of killing the king, but accepted it as necessary if needed. This was all totally different then what prowl had been taught about Vel-Vardeh.
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"And I'm supposed to believe you?" Prowl asked, struggling against the bindings again, despite how futile it was. "After you attacked us unprovoked, killed our people, and even went so far as to destroy our climate? I don't think so."
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Maximus clicked his tongue reproachfully. "Come now, I saved your life. I spared you and showed you mercy. Why would I lie to you? On that matter, who is better informed than I to speak of my ambitions? The people who paint me a cruel and despotic ruler who skins fursons alive for fun?" Maximus snorted derisively. "No, I think not. I sent emissaries and merchants with fine luxury goods to your people. They were intended to deliver gifts, but instead, a petty magistrate seized the goods for himself and killed my men to cover it up. It was YOU who attacked me without provocation. Aside from that, your climate isn't destroyed. The spell is temporary, things will go back to normal after my armies are gone." Maximus spoke earnestly, honestly. It was clear in his eyes.
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"You also have me tied up." Prowl said flatly. "You're obviously going to be guarded, and I'm not armed, so untie me. Maybe you'll be a bit easier to believe when I'm not tied up like a slave."
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Maximus laughed in response. "I'm not stupid, girl. You're a warrior, born, bred, and raised on martial skills. You don't need a weapon to attack an opponent. Weak though you are from your injuries, which I had my personal healer tend too, I have no doubt you've got enough strength to fight me. I also know your people value honor, which is why I have treated you as fairly as expected. Now, I will untie you, but only after you swear to me on your sacred honor that you will not try to escape, harm me, harm my men, and that you will treat me with respect and dignity, realizing that this is my domain for now, and you must abide by my rules." Vel-Vardeh rose, picking up prowl's white steel sword from where it lay next to him on the cot. "You can even swear on your blade, if you wish."
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Prowl chuckled coldly and shook her head as she looked up at him. "You're not quite as stupid as you look... If you were truly wise, though, you'd leave now. I will never stop fighting you savages." She growled, adding to her insult by spitting at his feet, the only part she could really reach of him.
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Maximus sighed, shaking his head before looking up at some greater deity in the heavens. "See? I tried. They don't listen. They believe their lies over my truth." Maximus shook his head and placed the sword on the table. "I really wish you'd stop acting like that. It's starting to annoy me, and I'm just trying to make peace. I want to help you, but you act like you want to help me die. I'm sorry, but get used to how you're sitting right now. Even with the spells, this lands gets damned cold at night, and, unfortunately, I can't take a blanket a soldier is using to keep warm at night to warm someone who'd rip his throat out if she got the chance."
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"Ice flows through my veins." Prowl said, closing her eyes. "Let your weak soldiers have their twisted climate and their warm blankets. I don't need them."
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(Hey sledge, can you give me a bit more detail in your posts? Some stuff on what prowl is thinking/feeling, you know, stuff like that. Thank you!)
Maximus grabbed a cushion and sat down three feet from Prowl. "Look, you're a war wolf, never surrender, never give up, some other patriotic stuff. However, if you want daddy to leave this place alive, you're going to have to work WITH me, you understand? If he doesn't compromise, I promise you, he will die. So it's up to you to tell me how to make daddy see things my way, unless you want him dead." Maximus's tone was even, a tired expression on his face. It had been a long campaign. It was time to finish this business and go home.
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(Can do.)
Prowl thought for a moment, appearing almost asleep, then finally decided she really had one option and nodded, opening her eyes once more. "Fine. As much as I hate it, I'll submit to your terms. Untying me should help your chances... And his." Though her ruff still stood on end from the almost core feeling of rage she held, her silver eyes showed she was being sincere. "I'll even swear on Svyren, if it helps." She shifted slightly in her bindings, starting to lose feeling in certain areas, as well as because it was a fairly uncomfortable position she was bound in.
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Maximus cocked his head to one side, confused slightly. "I do not understand who or what this 'Svyren' is, but I will take your oath." He got up and went behind Prowl, cutting her bonds with his knife. Vel-Vardeh stayed behind her, with the knife out as a precautionary measure. "Now swear your oath." Maximus was willing to trust her, but it was blatantly obvious he wouldn't trust Prowl until she swore her oath to stay, not harm anyone, and obey Maximus with respect and dignity. It was to be expected, of course. The vulpine had shown her mercy, treated her fairly, and respected her as an opponent. In return, Prowl had refused to reciprocate the respect shown to her.
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"Svyren is the name of my blade." Prowl said, rubbing her ankles before she stood, then rubbing her wrists where the bindings had been tight against her flesh. Once the feeling had returned, she gestured to her blade. "I swear by Svyren I'll keep the terms you've given. Now, if you'll hand me my blade, I can seal the oath." Her heart thundered in her chest and her cheeks flushed red with embarrassment: it felt wrong swearing her cooperation with this Warlord.
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Maximus nodded his head in understanding. He stepped out from behind her, sheathing the knife and fetching her sword. The color in Prowl's cheeks was not lost on the warlord. The fact that she felt bad about swearing her cooperation to him meant she could be trusted. It proved she was loyal, unlike those whose allegiances changed at the drop of a hat. You could never be sure if they weren't going to backstab you like their former masters. Maximus handed prowl her blade, stepping back. "After you swear, you may put your armor back on if you wish. From what I understand, you people seem to live in your armor."
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"Everyone has armor specifically made for them... So yes, I would like mine returned to me." Prowl replied, taking her white sword in her weapon hand and clasping her off hand over the razor sharp blade, scowling as she squeezed down on it until Crimson ran down the blade. Though her scowl was mostly because of the pain, there was still the factor of making a blood oath to Maximus, and deep down, she was concealing the thought that he might be telling the truth. She shook her head almost imperceptibly as she decided to wait and see what he could show her; she had been taught that it was actions, not words that made a person, and as such he could've argued his "truth" until he passed out, and she still wouldn't care. It was what he would do now that would either change or reinforce her thoughts. "Now, if you would, give me the words you'll be satisfied with me swearing to."
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Maximus gestured to where Prowl's armor lay neatly stacked next to where she had been bound. "You know what I want from you. Part of this is that I get to see how you word an oath, it helps me better understand your people and what you value, though I have a pretty good idea." The warlord waited until she swore her oath before he picked up the neat bundle. "Ha. You know, if it weren't for how tall I am, you and Zi could wear each other's armor." The warlord held up a hand, forestalling her reaction. "Yes, I did, and I know more about you know than I think you're comfortable with me knowing, so let's just move on. How do I get your dad to agree with me?"
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"Seeing as I still haven't agreed with you, I'd say the same way as me. If you know so much about us, you'd know your words won't help you." Prowl replied with a shrug, donning her armor piece by piece until something donned on her; she hadn't taken her armor off, and she hadn't been wearing these clothes underneath it. "Tell me something... How did I come to be wearing these clothes?" She continued getting dressed, but her sharp silver gaze moved to him, studying him for his reaction.
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The warlord smiled at her mirthlessly. "You were bleeding out, and they needed room to work on you. So of course they removed your armor and your clothing. No worries, I had your clothes burned, they were too bloodstained to wear. Besides, how else do you think I'd know how your left arm is armored with slightly heavier leather than your right, or how your gorget is padded with sheepskin like a common soldier's. The whole suit fits you tightly like a glove, but it is made lighter in some areas so you don't have your mobility restricted. While you have certain areas specially padded with the fine furs befitting royalty, the majority of it is padded with the common man's equivalent. Overall, your armor is as uncomfortable as your rank allows, reminding you that what you have is something many do not." The warlord gestured across the tent at his own civilized decorated suit. "Your old armor was trashed, beyond repair. I had it analyzed, then broken down after we made a copy. Your original suit is no more. That suit over there was designed after it. Yes, I know your people place no stock in words. I still need to convince him, however."
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"My old armor had a cut in the side that would've told a story." Prowl said, running her hand over the smooth leather of her new armor with a sigh, then belted her sword on her hip. "This is the armor of a sell-out and a failure..." In her and her nation's eyes, dying in combat would've been more honorable than this outcome, and agreeing to his terms of release made her failure that much worse. "You should've killed me. Now, I'm just useful to you for negotiations. You show my father I'm alive as a sign of good faith and a sigh that you keep your word..." She said, her tone becoming somewhat snarky again. "And you still end up fighting to the death because a War Wolf knows no surrender."
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Maximus sighed. "If I had killed you, then we wouldn't be having this conversation, now would we? Besides, I'm not asking him to surrender. I'm simply asking him to accept a new order, and you're here to help me convince him. Worst comes to worst, you lose your father and I gain a new bodyguard." The vulpine made a dismissive gesture with his hands. "Look, this argument is pointless. You've already sworn to me, a blood oath at that, so start helping. Take a seat at the table and start talking about what your father is like, what his diplomatic tendencies are, stuff like that. Feel free to eat if you want." The warlord turned around, heading back over to his cot and starting to take off his armor, loosening the straps a little. On the table was a bowl of fruits, and some dried meats, unnoticed in her earlier observations. It was obvious Maximus didn't care whether she ate or not, but he definitely wanted to hear about her father.
(Is there any way the king will agree?)
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(I'm thinking no, but that sorta depends. Can you work with it better one way or another?)
"I'm not arguing." Prowl said flatly, picking up a piece of the dried meat and examining it carefully. He likely wouldn't have anything to gain from poisoning her now, but she wasn't going to take anything for granted. "And you gain a bodyguard? I agreed not to kill you. I didn't agree to protect you if someone else should try to stick a blade between your ribs." After a second, she finally bit off part of the meat and chewed it slowly, once again making sure it wasn't poisoned; after all, they had been enemies just a few minutes before. "My father, as you asked, is bull true to say the least. That's not to say he won't listen to the people, though... He does quite often. Diplomatically... He stands firm in his terms and clears away those who oppose them. If you can make him see that your terms are right for your people, you might stand a chance of leaving him alive."
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(Well, if her father is still alive, I think Prowl would become less likely to slit his throat than if her father was dead. Her shame would probably keep her away from her kingdom, a self-imposed banishment, especially if the king was still alive and made it known. That would give her more reason to stick with Maximus and erode her distrust of him over time. It'd allow the possibility of a relationship where feelings, not oaths, are what keeps them together. Besides, I have no desire to go full Mongol on the war wolves and kill innocents, that'd stain Maximus beyond redemption.)
Maximus didn't reply, waiting until Prowl's back was turned to him before hastily taken off his barbaric armor and putting on the much more civilized set. The white leather was similar to Prowl's armor, but it was decorated in different patterns, and sized to fit the tall, lanky warlord perfectly. Silver trimmed the edges, and the armor boasted several finely woven cloth accents. A green cape hung from the shoulders of the armor, reaching almost to the floor, trimmed in silver, and there was a green sash with silver trim that went from the left shoulder to the right hip, whilst there was also a silver trimmed green kama at the waist. The use of green, white, and silver trim gave the warlord a surprisingly regal appearance, contrasting sharply with his earlier image. The decorated silver spear he now carried did little to detract from Maximus's appearance. "No, you wouldn't be my bodyguard. I don't trust you enough, and you don't trust me. However, I have no doubt that there are those out there whom I would find worthy enough to entrust with my safety, hence my gaining a bodyguard. Anyways, I rather hope to avoid that outcome, so why not focus on how to do that, exactly? You said he thinks of his people first, in what ways? What needs does the king know he cannot meet?"
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(Sounds like a good plan.)
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(Post edited.)
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"By this point, I'm sure he realizes he can't defend them all..." Prowl suggested, taking a few more pieces of meat from the table; she hadn't realized how hungry she'd gotten, perhaps due to the healers' magic. She thought for a moment, her mind turning to what her people would think of her oath to this vulpine, and growled at herself, clenching her fists angrily; she'd have to either die or leave, and since it didn't look like the first was going to happen anytime soon... She shook her head to clear it. "Look, we don't have very many crops that grow well here, and the water is always under a sheet of ice. We don't have enough mages to do anything about it, because we're warriors and lack the magical aptitude... Does that help?" After this burst, she looked down ashamedly, her hands still clenched into fists.
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(Hah! Contrary to hopeful opinion, I'm not dead! Anyways, my most sincere apologies on taking so long.)
Maximus waved his hand. "Please, eat all you want. We brought plenty of supplies, and while you are up and about, you are still recovering. I realize your cooperation comes at a personal cost, but I thank you. Anyways, if it's ice and water that trouble you, I think it's possible for us to solve that problem...." Maximus sat down at the table and started writing notes onto a piece of paper already there. It was obvious he was the military and civil brains of the empire. "In two hours, your father is coming. Is there anything else that you know of?"
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"No." Prowl said with a scowl, sitting at the table across from Maximus and drawing her blade. She laid it across her lap and ran her fingers down the flat of it, mentally cursing herself. Her blood was boiling for a fight, and the fact that she couldn't do anything about it was making her fidgety; at least the dried meat had taken the edge off of her hunger.
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Macimus looked up at her, a momentary frown on his face. "You know, you need not fear for anything. No one in my camp will harm you, myself included, and you'll be going home with your father in a couple of hours. Relax, you can even take a nap on my bed if you feel like it. In fact, I believe that's what the healers suggested." By the time he'd spoken the last sentence, Maximus was already writing again, this time sketching something out. A diagram to go along with the half page he'd already written. The details weren't clear from where prowl sat, but it was probably the solution to the ice problem.
-
"I can't sleep..." Prowl replied quietly, shaking her head. "And I can't go back home... I don't expect you to understand..." She pushed herself back up out of the chair and began pacing to dispel some of her frustrated energy, her hands still clenched in fists of rage. "I might as well have branded my own hand with the mark of shame... They're all going to see what I've done as utter betrayal..."