Per King Pardis III's orders, the Edoras army is fighting the Westerlings, otherwise known as the Western Tribes of Orsterra. Edoras has long since been at conflict with them, and it has only grown worse in the current king's time.
At first, you were eager to fight—to strike at this threat in defence of your nation, before they could grow too powerful. You thought you were fighting barbarians, uncivilized people who would devour Orsterra if they could. War, in that case, would be a noble cause.
And yet, the fighting is long and difficult. Even though the Edoras army is mighty, the Westerlings attack just as hard. On some days, despite the different uniforms, it becomes difficult to tell the corpses on the battlefield apart. The faces of your allies become almost indistinguishable from those of your enemies.
Eventually, you realize a hard truth—are you not all human? You're not fighting the monsters you thought you were. You are only killing people doing best for their own land, as you are. You can't even recall who actually fanned the flames of war.
Your blade grows heavy in your hands. You wonder if you can even bring yourself to swing it anymore, but you know you must. Hesitation on the battlefield will get you killed. Still, doubt weakens your body, guilt chaining down your arms. An enemy strikes at you, and you are too slow to react—
But Throné—your swift, faithful comrade, and above all your friend—isn't. She darts before you just in time, though not with enough to parry the blow. The blade goes through her gut, before she uses the last vestiges of her strength to slit the foe's throat.
"Are you okay?" she asks you, as though she is not the one bleeding out in your arms. You are unharmed, at least, but how could you ever answer that you're all right? You do not tell the truth, but you cannot lie either, as the light leaves her eyes.
After that battle, you desert the army.
Arthur wakes up, in the village inn.
He has spent many weeks here, by now. A part of him is wary to call any place home, lest he have to flee, but perhaps this village is the closest thing yet since his defection. The people here are largely kind and have welcomed him (sans Elizabeth, who has given him a wide berth, and yet seems to spy on him occasionally), and Opal has been a steadying presence—she, too, has stayed, if akin to a mildly feral cat sometimes ready to bite.
He leaves the inn and out into the morning sun. What does he want to do? He has a few options.
> Look for someone > Go fishing > Clear out any monsters lurking near the village > Eat at the tavern > Any other random action you can think of]
[Opal is out by the river, fishing. Though it's still morning, it looks like she's already got a lucky or catch two.
In contrast to the day they first met, she looks relatively at peace now. Just her, the river, and her fishing rod. And now, Arthur. She glances over at him.]
He fights against the Riven forces, trying to protect his nation. Still, he knows this is a fruitless endeavour—they lack the might to compete against Riven. And, true to his prediction, they lose this war. Your comrades die for nothing, but perhaps it is a small mercy to die for your cause than to be left behind.
Riven takes over. What was your country is no more, held only together by its shambles. As Riven, as commanded by its king, goes on to conquer more, your country has been left in the dust. With no army left to fight for, you and Yuri fall into poverty. Life is difficult, as the two of you try to get by. Hunger claws at your bellies, and despair begins to creep in your mind.
The thought leaves a bad taste in your mouth, but ultimately, you resort to banditry. What other choice do you have, to keep your sister fed? You're not proud at all, using your skills to prey on those even more disadvantaged than you. Shame fills you every day, when you see the fear and contempt in people's eyes. This was never what you wanted to do with your life.
Yuri finds out, and finally, it's too much. You decide to do better, even if it means starting from the ground up again. With some luck, you manage to enlist in Riven's army, especially with a display of your skill. Those from your homeland might consider your act an betrayal—siding with the reason your home is gone—but you must do what it takes to survive, for you and Yuri both.
Gregor wakes up, in the army barracks.
It's been a week, so Ichiban should be back now. Gregor steps out to find him, heading into a hallway where a few of his fellow soldiers and other servants scurry round. A girl in pigtails is among them, as she gives Gregor a little wave.
[he wakes with a start-- quiet, not gasping or crying out, but with a jolt nonetheless. maybe that could've been called a nightmare, remembering it all over again, but...
it's a reminder too, he thinks, as he evens out his breathing. of what he doesn't want to do again. how he doesn't want to end up. what he needs to keep doing for her sake, if not his. if she ever looks at him again the way that she did when she found out how he'd been feeding them back then-- how is he going to live?
gregor dresses and heads out, but the girl with pigtails catches his attention with that wave. he can spare a minute to talk, giving her a wave back. we're gonna >inquire her.]
[The girl is happy to talk, but not too happy because she knows you're not rich, Gregor.
Soldier, Anise
A teenage girl, serving as a squire for Ichiban. She originally hails from a nation that's since been conquered by Riven, so she can relate to Gregor's situation, even if they're not from the same homeland. For some reason, she's out to marry into a rich family. Unfortunately for her, the prince and only child of Riven vanished a while back, meaning that he's no longer a viable option. She's looking for a wealthy noble in the army now, but King Riven's tendency to promote based on merits rather than origins makes it difficult—Ichiban isn't an option due to his commoner roots.
Hi, Anise. You know where I can find him? Got a delivery to make while he's here.
[look, even if she's not Too happy because of his status, that's fine. he's not sure how he'd feel about being pursued... he gets along with her well enough, though.]
[I will be a horribly OOC Ichiban, I'm sorry. But when Gregor enters, he will see a humble, if gaudy-looking military office. If Hawaiian was an aesthetic that existed here, you get the feeling that this office would be it.
Ichiban, looking as friendly and full of life as ever, waves him over.]
Ohhh, that's some good stuff. Hermann sure knows her wine. Well, no reason to wait...
[Ichiban reaches into his desk and rummages a bit. he takes out one glass, placing it on his desk, before he goes back to rummaging. Then, he frowns and slaps his forehead.]
... Aw, man. I forgot I lent my second glass to someone. You mind if I give this a try right now? You can have some after, if you don't mind sharin' the one cup.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
NIGHT 2
ARTHUR
But even in his dream, he is dreaming.
At first, you were eager to fight—to strike at this threat in defence of your nation, before they could grow too powerful. You thought you were fighting barbarians, uncivilized people who would devour Orsterra if they could. War, in that case, would be a noble cause.
And yet, the fighting is long and difficult. Even though the Edoras army is mighty, the Westerlings attack just as hard. On some days, despite the different uniforms, it becomes difficult to tell the corpses on the battlefield apart. The faces of your allies become almost indistinguishable from those of your enemies.
Eventually, you realize a hard truth—are you not all human? You're not fighting the monsters you thought you were. You are only killing people doing best for their own land, as you are. You can't even recall who actually fanned the flames of war.
Your blade grows heavy in your hands. You wonder if you can even bring yourself to swing it anymore, but you know you must. Hesitation on the battlefield will get you killed. Still, doubt weakens your body, guilt chaining down your arms. An enemy strikes at you, and you are too slow to react—
But Throné—your swift, faithful comrade, and above all your friend—isn't. She darts before you just in time, though not with enough to parry the blow. The blade goes through her gut, before she uses the last vestiges of her strength to slit the foe's throat.
"Are you okay?" she asks you, as though she is not the one bleeding out in your arms. You are unharmed, at least, but how could you ever answer that you're all right? You do not tell the truth, but you cannot lie either, as the light leaves her eyes.
After that battle, you desert the army.
Arthur wakes up, in the village inn.
He has spent many weeks here, by now. A part of him is wary to call any place home, lest he have to flee, but perhaps this village is the closest thing yet since his defection. The people here are largely kind and have welcomed him (sans Elizabeth, who has given him a wide berth, and yet seems to spy on him occasionally), and Opal has been a steadying presence—she, too, has stayed, if akin to a mildly feral cat sometimes ready to bite.
He leaves the inn and out into the morning sun. What does he want to do? He has a few options.
> Look for someone
> Go fishing
> Clear out any monsters lurking near the village
> Eat at the tavern
> Any other random action you can think of]
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In contrast to the day they first met, she looks relatively at peace now. Just her, the river, and her fishing rod. And now, Arthur. She glances over at him.]
Hey.
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[taking a seat next to her]
Injuries feeling better?
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Yeah, I can't complain. Think I'll still have to leave any monster fighting to you for now, though—but don't rest on your laurels for long.
[She will help you with any monster fighting when she can, Arthur...]
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Worried I'm getting complacent? I was thinking about going soon.
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Yeah? Don't go and get yourself killed. Though it'd be funny if I had to be the one dragging you to the apothecary this time.
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[giving her a brief, tired smile.]
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You never know. You might've had too much to drink at the tavern last night.
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[he is not]
What about you? What will you do?
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Hm... might keep fishing for a bit. Helps keep myself fed, and I can sell the rest to the tavern for their meals.
[Speaking of which, her line bobs.]
Ah—shut up for a second, I've got something!
[She pulls, though it seems like it's a big catch and she might need some help.]
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[helping her!!]
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GREGOR
But even in his dream, he is dreaming.
Riven takes over. What was your country is no more, held only together by its shambles. As Riven, as commanded by its king, goes on to conquer more, your country has been left in the dust. With no army left to fight for, you and Yuri fall into poverty. Life is difficult, as the two of you try to get by. Hunger claws at your bellies, and despair begins to creep in your mind.
The thought leaves a bad taste in your mouth, but ultimately, you resort to banditry. What other choice do you have, to keep your sister fed? You're not proud at all, using your skills to prey on those even more disadvantaged than you. Shame fills you every day, when you see the fear and contempt in people's eyes. This was never what you wanted to do with your life.
Yuri finds out, and finally, it's too much. You decide to do better, even if it means starting from the ground up again. With some luck, you manage to enlist in Riven's army, especially with a display of your skill. Those from your homeland might consider your act an betrayal—siding with the reason your home is gone—but you must do what it takes to survive, for you and Yuri both.
Gregor wakes up, in the army barracks.
It's been a week, so Ichiban should be back now. Gregor steps out to find him, heading into a hallway where a few of his fellow soldiers and other servants scurry round. A girl in pigtails is among them, as she gives Gregor a little wave.
> Inquire anyone
> Move along]
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it's a reminder too, he thinks, as he evens out his breathing. of what he doesn't want to do again. how he doesn't want to end up. what he needs to keep doing for her sake, if not his. if she ever looks at him again the way that she did when she found out how he'd been feeding them back then-- how is he going to live?
gregor dresses and heads out, but the girl with pigtails catches his attention with that wave. he can spare a minute to talk, giving her a wave back. we're gonna >inquire her.]
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Soldier, Anise
Anise smiles.]
Hi, Gregor! Looking for the captain?
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[look, even if she's not Too happy because of his status, that's fine. he's not sure how he'd feel about being pursued... he gets along with her well enough, though.]
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[Do armies like these have offices for their captains? It's fine, they do now.]
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[anise gets a little wave as he heads off for ichiban's office, bringing the bottle hermann had given him along-- he pauses at the door, knocking.]
Captain, sir? It's Gregor.
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[I will be a horribly OOC Ichiban, I'm sorry. But when Gregor enters, he will see a humble, if gaudy-looking military office. If Hawaiian was an aesthetic that existed here, you get the feeling that this office would be it.
Ichiban, looking as friendly and full of life as ever, waves him over.]
Whadya need, my man?
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[setting the bottle carefully on his desk...
he has guarded this damn thing with his life because it's probably worth more than anything he owns if it's nice wine.]
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[Ichiban reaches into his desk and rummages a bit. he takes out one glass, placing it on his desk, before he goes back to rummaging. Then, he frowns and slaps his forehead.]
... Aw, man. I forgot I lent my second glass to someone. You mind if I give this a try right now? You can have some after, if you don't mind sharin' the one cup.
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[jan you're scaring me im so afraid right now but gregor has NO reason to be. go for it mr ichiban.]
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Ichiban pours a drink, before taking a sip.]
How's Yuri doin' these days?
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[why would i not be scared jan.]
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