The days since their victory against Falderen's forces at Castle Dormant were filled to the brim with all manner of duties and errands that needed urgent attending to, in order to see the place properly fortified against future attacks. Walls had been torn down and gates twisted open, while roofs and floors were shattered in the fury of the battling that had gone on. Roughly thirty percent of the total structure had been lost in the fighting, and it was going to take the combined efforts of everybody to get it mended in time for a counter attack that the intelligent among them knew would come. After all, the castle had been manned by a host of loyal soldiers and supporting staff who were able to, until betrayal from within, stave off a rather considerable siege by the elves of the woods. It had only been through a bitter venom that the snake like maws of the players had bitten into them suddenly that the castle was lost, and fell to enemy hands. Their hands. She still did not understand the reasons for choosing to betray the kingdom; perhaps they had misunderstood her intention to take the druid girl prisoner and diplomatically halt the siege and build bridges. Perhaps they had simply seen a throne in the castle, and grown greedy at the prospect of acquiring it, not thinking to the future. Well, she looked ahead, and she did not like the vision etched there in her mind; the knowing that there would be a horrible reckoning for things. The certainty that King Theo had an entire army with which to march against them now, and that he could not let this assault upon his power stand. It was more important now than ever that the guilds combine their forces and prepare. Unfortunately, it appeared as though COVEN had disappeared into thin air almost immediately upon achieving their victory, scattering a collection of questionable comrades to the wind and escalating worries of player to npc relations. Each and every one of them was an ambassador of their own kind now, and having lost track of the majority of the insane or self-centered was not what she would call a good beginning to things. It was almost as if Merkaba had sent them to the corners of the kingdom to hide and spread damage far and wide. Nothing had reached them YET of the guild’s members causing problems, but that did not mean that trouble was not brewing. The Admiral had learned long ago to ere on the side of pessimism with such things, to avoid the crushing defeat of eventual bad news. VALOR was a separate story altogether. Forged of those who either wished to be a hero, or had no home of their own, it was something of a halfway house to adventurers and craftsmen that lacked a clearly defined purpose. Its directors rallied the guild into inaction, doing nothing, accomplishing less. Apparently its leader was so taken with the woman he had knocked up in his own ranks, so concerned with the prospect of digital fatherhood, that there’d been no call to anything else. The few friends she had in its ranks told her of hunting parties and fishing trips and other little activities. A single mission in which they defended a town from invading gnoll forces. One call to arms in which they actually did something that mattered. She wasn’t sure what they planned to do now; Astor had mentioned vaguely the notion of giving them and COVEN a portion of the castle, for helping out with the raid. Whatever their leadership decided was unknown to her, but if the rumors of his love interest Sera being pregnant were true… words he had apparently hinted at during the battle within the castle when he rushed to her aid. It was quite the story. A pregnant player. Another complication to consider when negotiating with the npcs in the future; what it meant that these nigh immortal and highly immoral and chaotic individuals who barely came together under a unified banner… were breeding. That was a concern for another day, however. There was simply too much else that needed to be done in making the castle ready for war and ruling from once again. She had been almost useless in such situations, without domestic masteries to help repair things or tend to the needs of the fortress’s repair. Outside of shouting orders and motivating people to complete tasks, she was useless there. Seeing as she refused to order people to contribute when she herself could not, she left a list of what needed to be done for the guild leaders to see to, and then took off immediately for Stokbon, to spy on the situation there. Nothing had reached the general population, yet, of the fighting that had taken place and so she rode back to the newly dubbed “Astorea” in order to deal with other issues… With things she could contend with and contribute to. The borders were not secure and spies were likely flooding the woods by now. The elves needed to be directed in where they could establish communities, and Astorea needed villages of its own if it wanted a stable economy and supply line for its forces. It needed militias trained to replace the soldiers that had once filled Castle Dormont, because twelve to twenty player characters could not hold off an entire army no matter how powerful they became. Logging camps and quarries and mines needed to be established to gather resources. Natural threats cataloged and contained. Borders marked and maintained. Roads built. Farms raised. Alliances forged. On top of all of which the demon issue to the north, assuming such a thing were true, persisted still. That was what had brought her out here, to this vast wilderness, hidden away from her problems while she focused on dealing with internalized stress by camping in the woods. It allowed her to try and accomplish some of those major issues, while also freeing her of the burden of seeing others falter and fail to be useful. She simply could not handle the amount of stupid happening right now. So she lay back against a log, rump deposited neatly on the dirt floor of the forest, head tilted back to watch the canopy of green grow darker as the sun set into night. A fire burned in front of her, warming her feet which were bare, her boots deposited to the side to vent and dry after a hard day of marching through the wilderness. She had washed them, and herself, in a stream nearby and now lay swaddled in nothing more than a few heavy quilts; clothes drying on some branches, armor settled neatly in inventory. There was a surprising lack of bugs to disturb her, and the mobs in this area were weak for the level that she had grown to which, combined with the roaring campfire, kept them well at bay. @Gwyn ap Herne
Castle Dormont had fallen and from its ashes had risen Astorea. Gwyn personally didn't care for the name considering the name of the king sitting at its head, but there seemed to be some internal talk in the YULAN guild over it and she figured that was some deliberation they had made. It didn't concern her, despite being a player. She hadn't fought for a player nation, for power, for Yladia itself. She had fought for the justice of a people being enslaved only to find out it was so much worse than that. Extinction was a terrifying thought, but at the savage hands of demons? The human had spent a lot of time in the days after the fighting had finally ceased thinking about the situation as a whole. She still felt sick to her stomach when she considered the ramifications of it and the intentions of her fellow players. They didn't belong here with only one foot in the door and no real stake in the future of the game's world. The NPCs deserved better than people with lofty ideals that they were somehow inherently better or more worthy. If they were, then they'd be making things better in the real world. But they weren't, so they were playing like gods here. She'd be a hypocrite, however, if she damned players in general for living vicariously through a virtual reality multiplayer game. She was doing it too. At that thought she was quick to reach down and dig two fingers into the joint where hip met thigh, where a brace wouldn't help and where she'd been under the knife twice for. Well, where she had in the waking world. Here there was nothing wrong with her beyond the energy bar slowly crawling its way up after a long day. A long few days at that. While YULAN had set to fixing their claimed castle, VALOR split between helping some of the recovery efforts or working to figure out what was happening back in Falderen territory. Some of their guild mates had remained there during the fighting or escaping there with civilians and it offered an ear they would have otherwise lost. The odd COVEN guild had straight up vanished as quickly as they had come. The ranger didn't know much about them and so she wasn't going to lose sleep over it. She'd been busy with her own tasks. Avoiding the guilds had been surprisingly easy despite how busy things had been. Gwyn had strayed closer to the Yladian elves and began feeling out for information on the new peoples. There wasn't much to learn beyond their needs for resources after the siege. That she could help with and so she had. The past few days had been nothing but tracking and hunting game. She had helped parties find the tracks of larger herds or game while picking away at things she came across in her frantic search for sources of food, lumber, stone, and the like that the elves and guilds needed. She had offered to help cook some of the game, but after overturning a pot that had temporarily ruined half a campsite? She wasn't exactly welcomed by the food preparation circle. The human had stuck to the game trails and slaughter after that. Even her large serpent had been some help. Nathair had been forced to stay out of the siege with too many dangers and too unsure of circumstances. She had expected to die at the hands of the other players when caught for her betrayal after all. No need to sacrifice the snake in an impossible fight. Now, however, it seemed intent to make up for missed opportunities. It enjoyed the kill as much as she did after all. They had brought back some decent corpses for the elves to work with for food, a stag with a arrow through the heart and a few rabbits the anaconda had snagged. With the onset of night and a bone-deep weariness dragging at her feet, Gwyn had left the chaos of the camps and vanished into the woods with her tame. The distant glow of a fire caught her attention and she'd decided to check that no NPC had wandered to far. The game's focus feature flickered @The Admiral's name to life from the darkness instead. "Come, Nathair," she whispered lowly to the emerald creature and moved closer. What had driven her from her guild's crowning glory? Nothing here should be able to harm or hinder her so that didn't seem viable. As the huntress neared, she called out from the dark. "What brings an admiral like you to a place like this?" Nathair slid around the ring of firelight and she glanced to the side to watch it make its way to a nearby stream. Drawn to the water where it belonged, then. "Mind if I join you?"
A lulling calm had settled over the camp that she had set up, a soft and enticing slumber beckoning her to sleep. With heavy eyelids she rested her back against the log that served as bedpost; the saddle and horse packs from her mount acting as pillow for her head to rest upon. Swaddled in several quilts, she let herself drift into peaceful oblivion while her mount, a stolen mare, chewed at grass and sipped from the stream that she had hitched it beside. Words spoken nearby, and the slithering of something along the ground. The startled cry of a horse which reared in panic, trying to trot away from the tree at which it was carefully hitched. She inhaled sharp and sudden, her eyes instantly open and alert, a hand gripping a polished and gilded hammer and her entire arm tensing as it prepared to swing violently in any direction. All this happened in a single heart beat. After a second, she blinked her startled sleep away and gazed in the direction of the tree line where Gwyn seemed to be waiting. The Admiral gave a huff of mild annoyance at seeing her friend, setting the hammer down once again and letting out a groan of exhausted relief that there was no actual apparent danger right now. Not unless the long shadow moving into the water wasn't one of the strange pets she always seemed to be collecting from somewhere. But it didn't seem to be bothering them and the huntress had made no mention of the mysterious shadow, so until Gwyn worried about it she would put it from her own mind. "By all means, make yourself comfortable," she huffed as she herself no longer was. Pulling the covers from off of her body, she stood exposed by light of camp fire and moon, unabashedly naked and not even slightly self conscious for it. Standing, she walked to the horse and began to pat and soothe it, calming it down after the slithering something had startled it. It took a few moments of cooing and petting to make the beast believe that things were fine, after which she trudged wearily back to her pile of quilts and plopped down into them, throwing them open so that Gwyn would have room to crawl in beside her if the woman so wished. As almost an after thought, she reached into the packs beside the saddle and removed an elaborate glass stein of sorts... almost a decanter, really, with the image of a castle crowning it. A rich red wine filled its inside and she shook it ever so slightly to let the crimson nectar of gods dance tantalizingly for Gwyn in the fire's light. Pulling the stopper from its top, she took a long pull and gasped in satisfaction, holding the thing out for the huntress to take and sample. Almost as an afterthought she realized she was still laying there, quite in the buff and totally exposed, and pulled one of the quilts over herself for the sake of pretended modesty. More likely than not it just kept the chill off of her when a wind blew, but there was no reason to flaunt or taunt or perhaps disturb the archer. She didn't know the woman's comfort zones or inclinations. She didn't need to. Their relationship was one based on hitting things with other things, the harder the fight the better their bond. Whatever Gwyn's stance on female nudity however, the Admiral seemed comfortable with her own as a consequence of condition. She was tired and her clothes were drying, and she'd be damned if she'd pretend to be embarrassed for the sake of another. @Gwyn ap Herne
Nearer to the source of the light, Gwyn could better see her on again off again battle companion. The woman had startled something fierce and the archer lifted both hands in a calming gesture, though she was a bit caught up in chuckling at the reaction. "Sorry for the scare, just keeping you on your toes?" She offered, though they could both tell through tone alone that she had had no intentions of doing so. Gwyn knew just how dangerous The Admiral could be at both of their respective skill levels and it simply wouldn't do to go poking that particular beast. She couldn't kill her in one shot, but the huntress would opt out of testing the theory. She ignored Nathair's warbling hiss as @The Admiral spoke up and moved forward to join her at the fireside. Her initial intention was simply to sit opposing her for either the rest of mutual silence or a conversation, but at her shifting Gwyn followed her lead to join the other. The nakedness of the other woman was certainly a bit of a surprise, but if anyone was willing to go toe to toe with an enemy in the dead of night without a thread of clothing on their body she figured it might as well be The Admiral. She was proud to only let her gaze linger for a moment on the muscle the other woman sported. She had shoulders Atlas would kill for and some obvious impressive core strength from slinging around weapons that hit like a ton of bricks. Women were great. Especially ones that could break you in half if pressed. For a moment she was tempted to join her in calming the horse, but neither of them needed the coddling of a beast tamer. Instead she busied herself in settling in for a spell. With a huff she fought the buckles of her boots and finally settled with unequiping them through the UI and let the rest of her armor follow. She wasn't sure how long her welcome would last, but she could take a cue and follow a lead just fine. She'd camped with enough people and spent enough time in the woods for long periods of time that modesty wasn't some lofty ideal to cling to. There was only so private the forests and mountains could be. With her armor vanished into her inventory and her bow gently leaned within arm's reach, she shucked off her shirt and socks as well. She left the thin linen pants worn beneath her leather leggings on, as well as the breast band around her chest. Gwyn sat in the offered spot, shifting to get comfortable on the nest of blankets, and snorted at The Admiral's quiet offer of a drink. The ranger took the glass decanter and watched the glow of the fire shine through the liquid as she tipped it back to take her share. "Not bad, though the castle on this looks worlds better than the one back there now, huh?" She offered it back to the other and her eyes drifted down to the burning embers as she sighed. The bone deep exhaustion was catching up to her and the physical taxing on her was nothing compared to the mental and emotion wear. "Again, ah- sorry to barge in on you. I blame Nathair. Entirely its fault. I don't think you two have met yet, have you?" The sound of water rippling and a low hiss showed it had heard her call. She smiled slightly at that, for all the beast played like it didn't care, she was pleased it was keeping an eye and ear out for her. "There a particular reason you're out here and not with your guild gone wild? I hear there's a throne for your little nation now I bet you'd fit fine in." She needled with a half-hearted attempt at a playful tone.
