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Kamika - Ouja
Vivi Freak - Repto
Squeek! - Nemil
Cutie Eskimo - Ayumi
Smelly Fish - Samiel
Bad Guys
Samiel eyes rolled to the sky, and he turned around, clearly annoyed, to face the other girl. He snorted. "And the puppy begins her yapping. I am certainly NOT old! When my hair turns grey, when my joints begin to creak, and when I start talking about 'the good old days'--only then may you call me 'old.' Don't mix up 'older than you' with 'old'." Seriously! Children...
His eyes rolled once more as Samiel heard her words to the girl on the ground. Harm her with his manners? Whatever. He muttered under his breath, "The day I harm someone with my manners is the day people are made of more fragile materials than glass." He twitches at the girl's pout. He shuddered. Females. Maybe females are just that fragile.
Wait...save? His eyes narrowed at the two's exchanges. He hissed, and turned his gaze heavenwards and moaned quietly, "Oh no. Please don't tell me that these two girls...these two children are actually accepting the king's challenge..."
A cute pout had come over Nemil's lightly tanned features, and she seemed to begrudgingly accept Ouja's help. Rising and brushing off her clothing, though it did little good against the dirt already caked along the hem and up the once fine skirts.
"I'm not terribly sure myself." she replied dryly to Ouja, huffing and turning up her nose. "But if rude boars like this are what we must save, I may just reconsider and go about a different path." Absently, she peered down the very way that they had set upon, wondering just how much longer it would take for them to get to their destination.
Ouja gave a small indignant huff, "I am far from a CHILD, sir. And I suppose from your comment that you are also going for the king's challenge," she rolled her eyes. Seriously, what WAS his problem? They had JUST stopped him because his manners had been atrocious and all of a sudden, he just explodes on them.
"We are. . . Well, I am not as weak or _fragile_ as you think. I, sir, have been taking defense classes for as long as I was. . . found. And I don't think that you or ANY other person should be judging people either by their sex or appearance," she pushed her braid back and started walking past Samiel, "And if that is all, GOOD DAY!" Then she walked away quickly and swiftly, too infuriated to even check if Nemil was following her.
Yes yes he was in fact going for the king's challenge, and with that thought Samiel paused. Horrified, he stayed quiet for a moment to stare at the two girls. Does that mean he'll actually have to...work with them? He shuddered, hoping that there would be other, more suitable candidates. He could just imagine it now—The girl he knocked over throwing a damsel in distress routine at the first hint of danger. Then, the yappy girl pissing a drama in her arrogance of youth, thinking she could handle it all herself, and messing the situation from bad to worse. He shuddered. It was really too horrible to contemplate.
Now the girl was carrying on, already throwing another drama about him. It's not like he wouldn't have apologized if they had merely called to his attention that he had bumped into one of them. Instead, they had to insult. Bah. They weren't worth his time. He begun walking away, and then that insidious thought rose—he would have to work with them. Twitching, he sighed and turned back around to answer the yappy girl.
Trying to be civil, he answered calmly, trying to make his voice as bland as possible. "So, you've been taking defense lessons. Have you used them against others who are truly trying to kill you? Do you have any experience? It's one thing to know how to do something, quite another to actually have to do it. Can you kill a man? Can you give orders without emotions coloring your judgment? Or maybe most importantly, can you follow orders?" He crossed his arms. If he was going to have to work with this girl, she was going to have to lose some of that arrogance. He knew he was being arrogant, but that's because HE was sure of his experience—a good ten years more than her.
Samiel then turned towards the other girl—the obviously fragile one. "And what about you? What can you do?" He frowned and carefully looked the girl over. Obviously, she had fallen on some hardships, and survived through them. So she couldn't be all that fragile. But really, what could she do to help with the King's challenge? "Maybe heal?" He said doubtfully.
Ouja looked at the man, and then she sighed, "Okay, I think we started at the wrong foot but I'll answer your question anyway. Yes, I CAN fight against someone who is trying to kill me. I have a goal for this journey and I don't care WHAT I have to do achieve it. I know it may make me sound like I will act all arrogant. . . Which I have to admit is what I act like at times but I don't and CAN'T deal with anyone who gets in my way. And yes, I added to it. Now, I hope that's it."
Nemil had followed a good step or two behind, glaring at the back of the rude man they had encountered. Assessing him through the broadness of his shoulders and the cut of his form, taking in the long strides and finding himself trying to keep up with them. Lifting the skirts to keep from tripping upon them.
When Samiel gave pause and turned, she uttered a soft squeak of surprise. The glare having become a certain pout, her flushed lip jutting outward just so and those bright brown eyes round and blinking with bemusement.
"What can I do?" she murmured, cocking her head to the side slightly as if too dim to understand. it was a role she was used to playing, and suddenly grew sick of it. Her head righted itself and her gaze hardened. "Healing is certainly not one of my attributes, sir." The title was spoken with scorn, clearly she felt that he was hardly deserving of her courtesy.
Nemil's gaze moved to the sword at Samiel's side, and then slowly trailed along the man's physique up to his face. "What is it that you do? Do you really know how to use... that?" she gestured lightly and obscurely to Samiel's waist with a willowy set of fingers.
Staying silent for a moment, Samiel inwardly sighed. Basically the girl could fight, or at least think she could, but she wouldn't follow orders unless they were convenient to her. The arrogance of youth; always charging over those who knew better. It bothered him. He eyes the yappy one, and then lets out an audible sigh. Whatever. He could deal with her—much like how he dealt with some of the idiots when he was in an army. "Ok...since we may have to work together..." Please no. "Then perhaps we should introduce ourselves properly? I'm Samiel Rakuen."
He turned to the delicate girl as she spoke, pouted, and fluttered those big drippy brown eyes, causing him to nearly roll his eyes. He couldn't decide which was worse--the yappy arrogant wanna-be-man, or the fragile insipid one. Then, he had to stop for a moment and blink as her tone suddenly changed. Well, so the kitten had claws after all. Too bad they were rather blunt.
He arched a brow at her words and his eyes flickered to his sword before meeting her eyes. He answered, his voice as equally scornful, "Don't you think I'm a little too old to be playing with a toy sword?" He snorts. "Of course I can use it. It would be stupid and asking for trouble to wear a sword and not know how to use it. As for what I do, I'm either hired in a mercenary company, or hired into an army."
"Oh, but perhaps you are stupid and asking for trouble." she drawled rather casually, her long lashes casting shadows over her eyes as she lidded the brown sights slightly. "All I know is what you have told us thus far... you may very well be a charlatan, a pretender." Nemil let her gaze move over Samiel's much taller physique again, a corner of her lips twitched in hopes of turning upward smugly.
"Even your name may be false." She laughed then, scornful and superior in the face of the armed warrior. "Why," and her eyes danced with mischief delight, "you could be some silly farmhand, finally fed up with the dreary life of toiling and laboring. You left your lands, your work, your nagging wife and half-wit children, all in the pursuit of adventure and fame!" Throwing her arms out in flourish, she grinned slyly. Surely none of that was true.
She had seen warriors, had studied them and watched them. Knew how they moved, how they carried themselves. While all different certainly, there was a definite likeness beneath it all. And the man before her was possessed of that same underlying poise. She... just wanted to have fun with this pompous barbarian.
Samiel twitched and stiffened. "And I would be pretending to be a soldier for the purpose of what?" He glared down at the girl, not used to being accused of lying. Usually, he was surrounded by fellow soldiers and mercenaries who knew him enough to know that he didn't lie when he was being serious. Sure, he's exaggerated a story or two, but lying about what he did or his name? Nope, not unless they were the enemy.
He nearly choked at her next works. What?! He then answered softly, his voice a rumbling growl, "Do I look like a farmer? Besides, if I'm old enough to attach myself to a nagging wife, and have children, by then I would be too cynical and wise enough to know that adventure and fame don't exist. Not the way in stories at least." Samiel was now thoroughly insulted. He was twenty-eight! Not Eighteen! Men his age no longer believed in the romance of adventure and fame. What's so romantic about slogging through rain, walking hundreds of miles, and having someone try to hack at you? And fame? Bah! They may praise you for a few months, a year if you are lucky. But give any more time than that, you're just another name, another human and people had lives to go back to. If you were lucky, or rather, unlucky enough to become a name in legends, then you were either dead, or wished you were dead. Why didn't people pay more attention to those legends and see that most of the outcomes were tragic?
"For the purpose of what..." she mused, tapping a finger to his chin as she thought on the matter. Then shrugged and smiled with saccharine sweetness, fluttering those thick lashes again as she peered up at Samiel. Having taken a step or two closer to him without seeming to have moved at all, leaning closer.
"That reason is all your own." Nemil replied, laughing and swirling about. Some of the tatters of her skirt flapping against Samiel's legs. Lacing her fingers behind her back, she took a few steps forward on the path. Smiling as she turned her face up to the leaves and the sunlight sparkling through them.
Nemil laughed against her fingers as she peered at Samiel through the corner of an eye, "Not like the stories? You took up the King's challenge, didn't you? Just as I and this young lady has," she nodded curtly to Ouja, "This is all a story in the making, it would not be entirely uncommon I am sure for some peasant with dreams of grandeur to run off from their mundane lives to give it a chance."
Samiel's eyes followed the girl's, irritation rising at every movement. The mocking tapping of her chin, the overly sweet smile, fluttering lashes—really, it was overdone. And then suddenly she was close to him! He begun to take a step back, not liking this invasion of his space when he stopped and stood his ground. Why should he back up to a girl?
He sighed loudly as the girl evaded his question and he spread his arms, shrugging and asking into the breeze created by the tattered skirt. "There would be no reason for me to attempt to deceive two girls. There's nothing to gain in deceiving such ones as you." Samiel answered scornfully.
"Just because others may take up the King's challenge for the purpose of adventure and fame, does not mean I did." Samiel said stiffly, glaring down at the girl as she flounced and threw words at him. "The King has money, and I could use some of that money. What better way than to accept the challenge? I'm sure you have your own reasons of accepting the challenge...Hmmm..." He swept his glaze over the girl once again, lip curling at the expensive, but tattered skirts. "Perhaps you may want money yourself, little kitten? Except, money not to use for living, but for the latest fashion in clothing? Some elegant necklace to adorn your slender little throat?" At his last sentence, he focused on that same neck, for the first time wanting to wrap his hands around it. He shook his head and jerked his head away, not liking his train of thought. The kitten was worming her way under his skin more than he anticipated.
Nemil could not help but laugh again, letting her fingers slide along the creamy line of her throat. This man was such a delight, she was finding. His reactions were so obvious, albeit he did try to hide them. Doing so poorly, in Nemil's expert opinion. That she, a fair young maiden- that was a lark -could needle him like this was giving her an immense sense of satisfaction and pleasure. Without meaning to, she smiled. Baring her teeth in a subtly sly and roguish grin. Travelling with this Samiel would not only be useful... but entertaining.
She took hold of her torn skirts and curtsied to Samiel, acting demure and meek as she bowed her head in the proper mousey fashion and kept her eyes lowered, only having her gaze flitter up to Samiel in fleeting seconds. "Money for clothing? Well now, some new attire would be in order, I think. But surely I cannot travel far garbed in fine silken gowns and laden with heavy baubles of gold and glitter. Now that would be asking for trouble, wouldn't it? Even now, this," and she shook her skirts in gesture, "is a little sightly, isn't it? Though certainly I cannot go about without it now. Wandering the forest naked as a nymph? I dare say, that the sooner we can partake of the king's hospitality the better."
Samiel eyed the girl, thoroughly annoyed. Now what was she laughing about? He warily took a step away, and began to walk down the path once more, marching ahead, and keeping his eyes straight ahead. He was afraid that if he did turn to look at the girl, he may give in to the urge of strangling her in his irritation.
Considering he was focused straight ahead, he did not see the curtsy, otherwise he really might have had a seizure and then committed a murder. Instead, he snapped at her without turning around, "Really? Girls in your station seem to believe they can. Plenty have hired me to guard them." As annoying as they were, they paid well. "And the skirts are only sightly in the way that you don't have a huge caravan of servants and guards trailing after you ready to do your bidding." He paused for a second in his tracks, wondering why the girl didn't have an entourage following on her heels. Her clothing and matterisms did testify to her high breeding. He glanced back once, brows furrowing, perplexed.
A smile curled Nemil's lips as she watched the man, saw his expression furrow as he took her in. She did nothing to evade the assessment, and in fact just stood there with her hands laced at her back. Patient and calm, her gaze roaming to the path and surrounding foliage.
For the moment, she held her tongue. Nothing need be said right here really, and she mulled over the desire to keep at this little gambit. Toying and rankling the mercenary as she was, it may put her in more danger than the entertainment value was worth. For she still knew so little of this man, and who was to vouch for him and say that he was a good man? That he wouldn't dare strike a lady...
Even so, she did find amusement in how only now did Samiel think to take in her state. That for all the pomp and talk she threw at him, that high mannered pride, she appeared rather out of sorts. For such a lofty personality she was alone in the woods, her face was dirtied, and her dress was but rags at the hem and caked with grime.
Truly all this was unsuitable for a lady of high society and standing, but as Nemil held her hands at her back, she pulled her frilled cuffs down tighter along her wrists. Continuing to smile as she hide the deep red scars circling the delicate forms.
Ouja gave a small smirk. That Samiel man was getting TEASED and teased badly from what she could see. But of course, she truly didn't care. . . He wasn't anyone whom she knew closely or anyone she considered extremely special to her. And for that matter, neither was Nemil so she didn't bother to stop their bickering, as she called it. Just standing there and watching was GOOD enough for her although she would like it if they would get a move on. She wanted to reach the palace in order to heed the call of the King.
Giving a sweet smile, she tapped Nemil on the shoulder, "Is there any chance that we may start moving? I'd really like to start walking to the King's and I don't want it to take long. . ." she said.
Walking along quietly, Samiel kept casting odd looks from the corner of his eye towards the highborn girl. He gave little thought in how obviously confused and maybe even interested he looked. Really, he didn't understand. Most highborn girls were rather airheaded and would have vapors if they ever even had the amount of dirt that the girl had just on her arms. The girl didn't seem to care of her current state. Granted, she expressed desire of new clothing, but she didn't faint along with that expressed desire.
So...she was running away from someone? Husband? Father? Brother? It could be anyone really. He shook his head, pushing the speculations of the girl away, scowling. He really shouldn't be interested and instead should pay attention to where they were going. Turning back ahead, he marched forward past the girl and the yappy one.
A pause. "Well, aren't you coming?" He called back before striding ahead once more. "Oh right, and your names?"
Nemil smiled, carrying her head high as she walked gracefully along. Feeling smug that Samiel was keeping an eye on her, that the man was now mulling over the stranger that had been riling him. Indeed, she must look odd. But again she was tired of the simpering maiden act, out here in the woods, under the dazzling sun, she yearned to gain back a sense of self. To be her own... person, at last.
Picking up her pace, she fell in stride with Samiel. Occasionally having to rush her steps to keep parallel to the larger fellow. "My name is Nemil, and that is all you need know... for now." she grinned, her brown eyes shining at him.
The path they traversed gradually merged into another, one more worn and treaded. The trees thinned and they were walking on a dusty but clear road before long. Nemil looked over at Ouja, a faint amount of disdain in her expression, "You said that it would take days to reach the kingdom... by the looks of things, this may take but a few hours more. In fact, I would wager that we arrive there before nightfall."
Samiel continued to walk along, slightly ahead of the others. He kept his pace slow enough that the two girls were never too far behind him. Though he would never admit it, he didn't like the fact that these two girls were walking alone, with dusk seeping into the sky, and the night ready to fall over the earth. A party of three, with one male definitely trained was less attractive than two girls walking alone, one trained or not.
His eyes flickered over to Nemil, as she introduced herself, "You're pretty full of yourself aren't you Kitten? You speak of revealing your past as if it was a privilege." Samiel felt his irritation rise once more. "Why would I be interested?" That he was interested was yet another thing he would not admit. "...unless it could bring trouble upon us. Then, it becomes your duty to warn us." The thought of this girl withholding information merely to maintain an aura of mystery or something equally insipid galled and angered him.
Samiel's steps lengthened with his growing rage...and with the anticipation of a city spreading out over the next hill. He reached the top of the hill and stopped for a moment to gaze down at the flickering city lights merging together like a beacon to weary travelers. He relaxed a moment and smiled slightly. A hot bath, a change of clothing, and a warm, hopefully pests free bed invaded his thoughts, pushing aside the ones colored with anger.
Nemil tried not to bristle at that nickname, hating little pet names for sometime now. Clucking her tongue, she waved a chiding finger to Samiel, "That's Nemil... Nemil."
She then smiled, finding it amusing at how hypocritical the other was being. Of course he was interested, had been plain as day only moment before. Now though, the mercenary chose to hide it well. But bluffing like this did not fool Nemil for a second.
"Duty is it?" the large brown eyes blinked, and Nemil's musical laughter rang out. Notes of scathing bitterness chiming through its call, unable or unwanting to be disguised. "How presumptuous. Why would I have to tell you a thing? If you are caught up in my affairs... my troubles, as it may be, well... I fear that that is to your own failings."
She hurried her pace, looking out over the sparkling city. "Finally! Civilization... hot baths... warm beds. Ooh, what joys." And now she took the lead, picking up her skirts and starting down the road.
Ouja gave a look around as she heard what Nemil said of her directions. With a blink and a scratch of the head, she crossed her arms together, "Hmm. . . I must've been mistaken. I could've sworn it'd be much farther than it is," she turned to Nemil, "I apologize for my mistake."With a nod, she spun back around and started to head to the city. Slightly flipping back her braid, she realized something. She, Ouja Idomizu, was about to enter the city. To challenge this sorcerer and regain her honor. . . Her pride. And she COULDN'T be even more excited!
Shrugging, he walked on. Samiel usually didn't meant to annoy people with his nicknames, but once he's developed one for someone, that person was stuck with it until a new one could be developed. "I call people what they are."
He arched a brow, a little unnerved with the laughter, his unease causing him to snap out. "Perhaps 'duty' is not the correctly word. Courtesy may be a little more correct. For example, if a group of men came screaming and waving their swords at us trying to get at you, then it is 'merely'..."a bit more than 'merely', "...polite to tell us why ." He paused. "Or perhaps an even better word would be common sense. Perhaps we may even help you out if we knew why."
He chuckled slightly as Nemil rushed ahead of him, recognizing the excitement that he was feeling himself. He could tell that the yappy one was catching onto the excitement as well.
"Please, do remember that a single mistake can cost one their entire life." she intoned with quiet arrogance, and began to lift her skirts up so that she could better watch her feet as they trod along the way. Her slippers were ruined, and had been for some time. Nemil grimaced faintly, just thinking about how red and dirty they must be. It would feel so good to finally sit in a comfortable chair and to lie within a soft bed. The young maiden took a moment to calculate the days between her escape and now. She caught herself with surprise, finding that it had been over a month. Auran must be furious, and likely to have... come away from the obstacle she'd left him that morning.
Lifting a fine pale eyebrow, Nemil looked to Samiel, "Me-ow." she replied simply. "Oh, I think they'll be more subtle than to come about waving swords... as for help, well... I don't think you would in the end. No matter, I shall be able to handle them when the time comes.
"Now... to more pressing things. What shall we do first in this city? Eat, rest, proceed straight to the palace... shop?"
Samiel shrugged, "And who knows which one is the mistake in the first place." An hour earlier, out of sight of the city, he would have been irritated at the girl's response. But the image of the shimmering street lights allowed him to dismiss Nemil's arrogance, and instead he turned his thoughts towards...well...bed.
In-between thoughts of fluffy white pillows, and sinking goose mattresses, he answered Nemil. "See. I was right." ...warm baths, clean scent of finished laundry..."It is too bad that they may be more subtle, because that means they are a bit more intelligent than idiots." Thoughts of soft sheets paused for a moment to allow room for a response, "Well, me helping just really depends."
With Nemil's next words, his thoughts refocused on the coming relaxation. Of course, he wished to answer, "Bed!" He really shouldn't though. Sighing, he thought a bit, "I suggest we find an inn and have them make us food while we clean up. We should see the King when we no longer smell exactly like the amount of travel we did. Hmmm...perhaps we should see the King tomorrow anyways. Then we will be rested, alert, and coherent. A good impression should be made. " His eyes flickered towards the girl, eyeing the clothing. "...though...your clothing seems to be a lost cause."
Nemil appeared mockingly reflective, thinking on her situation. Just who would Auran send after her? Could she be just a little vain and believe that Auran would send out the best Hunters after her? Sparing no expense, seeking out the best (and likely most ruthless) men after her... Yes, she thought with some pride, she could believe this. After all, Auran's precious orchards should already be feeling the relief of being free of her magical touch. At last able to sleep or even die, having been taxed for so long. "Well, we shall see what comes about." she replied, mostly to herself. A little excited at the prospect of finding out just how valuable she had been to Auran. Four years of keeping his trees fresh and in bloom for all seasons, making him the top merchant and landowner for miles.
"You would help?" she asked in a soft, sly murmur. Smiling up at Samiel, her brown eyes lidded and sparkling. "What is your price, sir?"
Her thoughts switched slightly, but still there lingered that bewitching light in her eyes. "First impressions, always good... especially when met with royalty. I should like to opt for the following course of action; Find an inn in which to spend the night, perhaps wash and eat, take in a bit of the city -for it would be good to get our bearings at least-, and... do a bit of shopping? No matter how clean and rested, I for one do not wish to address a King in rags."
Ouja nodded in agreement to Nemil's statement, "We should wash up so perhaps a place to stay would be good. Of coruse, we should first head INTO the city if we wish to find some place to stay." The female was ecstatic so she just said that so they wouldn't delay staying behind any longer.
Taking a good two steps forward, Ayumi was about to return to the gate, when she heard a shout. She saw that same child running off with a loaf of bread clutched in both hands. Behind, a pudgy man was chasing after her (OOC: typical...=P I know...).
Ayumi was struck by this scene, that was particularly familiar to her. Yes, that child resembled her. And the baker reminded her of whom she was running away from that day. But whether that child would actually escape inside the palace and claim a royal title from the king... Following the baker closely, for no logical reason, she tried to catch sight of the child.
Upon turning a corner, she realised that the child had been cornered. So...her fate is different from mine. She watched calmly as the baker caught the child, threatening to hurt her. A tug at her heart, a shove in her haversack, a cling of coins, a number of steps taken forward, Ayumi placed the coins in her opened palm, in front of the baker's eyes. Both greedy eyes of the baker's and the child's eyed the coins closely.
Dropping the child onto the ground, the baker grabbed the coins, nodding at Ayumi. But Ayumi heard him mutter something about her being stupid to help that ungrateful child. She did not really take that comment into mind, but when the child merely walked off, she realised that what the baker had said was indeed true.
So much for resemblance and compassion... Ayumi thought to herself, and mentally told herself off. She had the nerve to lecture that child, but noticing that the sky was already quite dark, Ayumi walked away from the child. It's definitely her lucky day...
Putting that matter aside, she headed back to the gate.
Repto had stood up, watching the scene from afar. He wasn't exactly sure what had happened, but it seemed to him that she had freed the child from the baker's anger. He gave a small grin. When he saw her return, he asked,
"Not to be rude... but... why did you help the child?" .
Slightly taken aback, for she did not expect anyone to really bother about what she did, Ayumi thought hard for a while, before replying, "I...felt like it...that's all..." Looking away, she added to herself. "And she reminded me of someone..."
Trying to brush away the matter, Ayumi changed the subject as she observed, "Looks like the people entering has decreased a whole lot..." She looked up at the dark sky. "It's either we missed them...or we'll going to have a good chance of spotting them soon..."
Repto just stared and nodded slightly. He looked into the distance and let out a long sigh.
"...What shall we do, then?" he asked thoughtfully.
"Um..." Ayumi bit her lower lip. "I'm not too sure...but I suppose if nobody arrives soon, then we'll have to find a place to stay..." Gazing around her, Ayumi was trying to guess which of the inns was the best of all, including good food, cosy beds, friendly host/hostess and exceptional service. But of course, that was quite impossible for her high expectations. Her thoughts once again, wandered back to the palace.
"I suppose we may have to wait again for them tomorrow...unless we go back to the palace, to see if any of them have reached there..." She sighed. "About the rest of the days ahead...I have no idea..."
Repto nodded, "Let's wait half an hour more, shall we? Then, I don't know, we can... go an inn, or go wait at the castle? It really is pointless to wait so long..."
He sighed, "If they don't arrive soon, we can set off ourselves and see if they catch up..."
Nodding in response, Ayumi said, "I'm okay with that..." She gladly accepted the idea of heading back to the palace. "So, we'll wait half an hour longer before going back to the castle?" She thought for a while before continuing. "If you really don't want to wait any longer, I wouldn't mind setting off first."
"Well, I find it fair to wait juuuuuuust a little longer," he told her with a smile, "But if you prefer to leave now, I'll catch up with you in half an hour."
Ayumi considered Repto's words before laughing, "Well, I suppose I'll wait a little longer. But if nobody appears, I'll be heading off to the palace." She looked in the direction of the palace and then turned towards Repto. "After all, there are some preparations needed to be done for the arrival of some..."
Repto nodded. "Well, yes, I suppose so." He blinked, just seeing how slowly time was passing by. He wished for someone to appear very quickly, since waiting was a very frustrating hobby...
Ayumi smiled slightly, and inside her head, she was mentally counting down from 100 at her own pace. (OOC: yes, 100...=P) While doing so, she was gazing out of the gate one minute, and the next minute she was looking at the palace.
Samiel's pace sped up as he saw the gate before him. Eyes focused on the city beyond the gates, they completely past over those who were right in front of him. A soft sigh of satisfaction passed from his lips as he stepped past and into the city. Now...to find an inn. He walked on, eyes roaming eagerly, passing the inns that were too shabby, and the inns that were obviously beyond his price range.
He was nearly lost in his search for an inn, when Nemil's voice broke in. He blinked, and cast the other a quick unnerved look. "Uh..." He answered helpfully, not knowing what to say. Would he help? Probably. He did have some morals lurking around inside of him. He couldn’t just stand by and watch a girl get slaughtered. Through most girls are fairly dull, that didn't mean he wished them harm. Rabbits were stupid--he wouldn't stand by and watch one get kicked to death. "P..price?" His walk stiffens a bit, unsure. "Money?"
He nods. "For once, I'm in full agreement."
Nemil yawned a bit as she moved through the gates as well, her eyes moving through the crowd they had become immersed in. Even at this time, there were healthy bundles of people pouring into the city. Either coming home from business away, or other weary travelers who now sought refuge for the night. For the choice of inn, she would allow Samiel to take the lead. All she really cared for was a hot bath and running water, and she felt certain that Samiel kept watch for the same thing.
"Money... how boring." she drawled, containing a soft giggle. Clapping her hands then and beaming brightly, flashing a lovely smile up at the man. "Fantastic! So shall it be."
Samiel moved in deeper into the city, looking around, making notes in his head at useful shops they could go to the following morning. As they moved in further, more towards the main area of the city, slowly their surroundings grew a little better, with fewer beggars shuffling along travelers, pleading. However, he did not relax--obvious travelers like them were prime targets for pickpockets. Though...he glanced at Nemil...maybe not, considering that they did have a rather shabby appearance. He shook his head and answered dryly, "Money...how useful."
A slight smile touched his face, sharing the eagerness for a rest. Finally, he paused in front of an inn, and walked inside. Samiel was pleased. He carefully looked over the place, approving of the well lighted room, and the soft waft of simple, yet most likely filling food. He left the others for a moment to arrange matters with the innkeeper. A bath, a meal, and room with four clean beds. He had not relished giving away money for a bigger room with more than one bed...but he doubt any of them wanted to share.
"Money is a great failing, yet necessity, of the world." she intoned, but left it off at that. Frowning as it dawned on her only then, that she had not so much as a copper to her name. Of course Auran had never paid her, and she had hardly time to steal away some of his profits during her escape. The youth started to nibble at her lips in nervousness, and she peered up at Samiel through the corner of an eye. The man did not appear to be wealthy, and most mercenaries weren't, else they would lead much softer lives to be sure. A mournful sigh passed her lips, and she forced herself not to pay heed to the merchant stalls lining the street they traversed.
Once in the inn Samiel had decided upon, Nemil's stomach uttered a loud and embarrassing growl. Her mouth practically salivating with the thought of cooked meat and soft bread. Having only had an assortment of berries and roots to keep her hunger staved during her journey, just enough to prevent her small form from wasting away. Definitely they must bath and eat first, even though the beds did look so very, very inviting.
Samiel sighed slightly as he checked the state of his wallet. Not much left at all. Just enough to buy presentable clothing. Though, he did think he had a set of clean clothing that he had refrained from using for the purpose of meeting the King. Sitting down on one of the chairs in the room, he began to pull out his clothing, Shoving all the dirty clothing to one side, he finally found the clean clothing. Holding up the dark blue tunic, he made a face at the crumpled look. It looked like it had been shoved to the very bottom of a pact...which was exactly what happened. He sighs, seeing a few more coins slip from him to get the shirt ironed. The King had better compensate him.
Samiel snorted as Nemil's stomach growled. So much for the delicate lady appearance. Ok, his stomach was growling too, but he was allowed to! Shaking his head at them both, he said ruefully, "Lets hurry and get clean so we can eat." With that, he stepped out, heading towards the bathhouse.
Peering into a tall mirror within their room, Nemil frowned deeply. She had known that she had been dirty for quite some time now, but only then was she able to see by just how much. It was appalling, the amount of soil had become caked to her. Though it was hardly surprising, sleeping amongst tree roots and the like rarely left one gleaming.
With a grimace, she ran fingers through her hair. She could have screamed at how matted it had become. Twigs and leaves snared within the usually beautiful mane of golden hair. The young lady wanted to make a run for the bath, to at least dunk her head in clean water for a change.
Nemil paused abruptly, and now found another problem. The bath house... She nibbled on her lips again, heart hammering loudly. She prayed to every God she'd ever heard of suddenly, hoping that the baths would afford privacy. That no one would see...
Samiel eagerly strode into the bathhouse, moving to the men's side. Stripping behind a screen and holding the towel in front of him, not really caring if others saw him...they were all men anyway. He walked one of the walled off baths where he happily scrubbed off the dirt and sweat that had accumulated during the trip. When all the dirt washed off, he finally allowed himself to relax in the bath.
Finally clean, finally warm and relaxed, Samiel drifted off, body slowly sinking into the heat. However, the doze was a short one, as his nose sank below the water. Jerking and spluttering a bit, he snorted water. Spending a few more minutes hacking up water, he finally decided to reclaim his dignity by eating. Somehow, that worked in his mind.
Nemil was beside herself and almost sick with worry. Could there be a more complicated situation? She played with a loose thread on her dress, rolling it around in her fingers, lopping it tightly about the same digits. Busying herself mindlessly as he struggled to come up with a solution. At last, she settled for a modest approach. None would fault her for playing out the shy, uncomfortable type.
Wrapping a towel tightly about herself, she whimpered in genuine anxiety. Perhaps acting wasn't necessary, at least everything that was important was covered up and she was able to hold the towel about her in just such a method as to make everything look right.
Still, she suffered no greater joy than in simply getting into the bath and sinking low into the steaming tub. At least under the water and in the steam, she could relax a little. Sighing in content as the heat soothed her sore and tired body, did away with the knots in her shoulders and back, and most importantly, swept away the dirt.
After several long moments of just sitting there in the basin, Nemil steeled herself for the hard part and began a vigorous scrubbing of her body. Washing away the filth under her skin once again glowed with a healthy pale luminescence and her hair had been freed of debris, hung in a clean, sweet smelling tumble about her shoulders.
Humming, she dried and whisked herself away into the room again. Frowning as she found that her dress was still wet, and that washing had had something of an adverse effect upon it.
