VERIT-LIE| AFTERNOON
"Are you asking me to play at diplomacy? Gods, I'm just not the man for that, but alright."
The pale woman let her gaze drift to the Da Huane siblings and made a sound in the back of her throat.
“Somehow I believe you might be our only choice at the moment, Most Esteemed Siordanti.” She said quietly, the title bitter and ashy on her tongue where once it seemed so powerful. As they dismounted, the blonde helped her fiance, frown creasing her brow when he pushed aside her comments. His cheeks were hollow, his eyes sunken and dark circles under them, proclaiming his sheer exhaustion. There would be rest, Imaan damn it, whether he wanted it or not. She would cast something should the need arise, just to be sure of it.
They entered the township, Nauleth wearing his glasses that somehow made him seem so much more respectable then before. As though he hadn’t just taken a flying leap off the mountain on a gliding mammal to escape the clutches of the Matriarch of Gior. Humans glared with open shock, fear and anger, baffled by their appearance. Athrym walked closer to the Anaxi, careful to keep her rising panic away from her field. It was like strolling into a den of kluiws—waiting for the attack that would inevitably come.
There was no way they would get out of here alive should the animals wish to take them down.
Her eyes darted to the one that approached them, drawing her icy aura closer in preparation. So this was how it would end? After hatchers and mythic beasts and vengeful Guardians, they would be killed by creatures with farming tools. It spoke to them, specifically to Nauleth, and her heart pounded in her chest. It was shocking to hear Gioran so odd yet so familiar from it’s lips, and she couldn’t help but glance at Kaelum. It appeared he and Leyenak were of the same thought, though it was hard to tell behind the cloth it seemed the passive’s eyebrows had shot up. They did however, keep their tongues, all staying precisely where they were as the Anaxas gentleman took the lead. Kaelum towered over them all, threatening even if he didn’t mean to be, and the human’s eyed him with a definite wariness.
As Nauleth waved papers at the dirty blonde man, he didn’t make a move to take any of them, watching the red head carefully whilst he spoke in the dialect of the Anaxas kingdom. He narrowed his eyes, turning his head slightly as though trying to listen better, grasping the hoe tightly when the man moved to shove his papers back in his pocket. Athrym listened to his glorious speech with one eye on the man before them, the other on the gathering around them, a little more than impressed by his very formal lie. A politicians son, if ever one existed.
He finished, smiling briefly and waiting expectantly to see what the humans would do, and for a moment the Gioran was absolutely positive they were about to find out just how sharp those tools were. Kaelum’s field brushed against her own, as though silently suggesting she ready herself for the fight, and she took a deep breath, summer gaze counting the people around them. Too many, far too many for singular battle spells. Maybe she could cast an area spell? There were advanced spells that were dangerous, so very dangerous, but would it matter by that point? Her pulse raced in her ears, and she began to gather her field when suddenly a sharp womans voice rang out from beyond the hoe-wielding man, speaking in the same curious Gioran dialect.
“Derrick! Put away your weapons! How do you expect to break down the walls when you bolster them so?” A woman strode into their midst, older than any of the group, with flowing white hair and soft curves. Her pale face was marked with crows feet, and her eyes were a gentle violet. She walked with a slight limp, leaning on a short walking stick, her clothing loose and flowing. If she didn’t lean so heavily on the walking stick, she would be as tall as Nauleth at least. As the older woman reached the man, she placed a hand on the farming utensil and lowered it gently.
“Don’t be the beast they suspect you to be.” She said softly, before turning to Nauleth and bowing slightly, one hand on her chest.
“Be welcome here, galdori. I apologize for my kinsmen, they are not often faced with so many of you at once. It was…disarming.” The older woman spoke in Estuan, heavily with a Gioran accent. Moving carefully closer, she glanced at the trio behind him with a raised eyebrow.
“We don’t often get visits from Gioran galdori, so you must understand their concern. I am Jolette, the magister of this township.” Looking back at Nauleth, she gestured back the way she’d come from, to a quaint cottage on a small rise beyond the village centre.
“Perhaps you and your company would care to accompany me to my home, whilst we work through your request, Mister…?” Athrym kept her eyes on the woman, as she moved closer to the Anaxi, unsure how to handle anything that was happening around them. Jolette looked at Leyenak then, offering the youngster a warm maternal smile.
“Your girl there looks as though she needs a short rest at the least. A snowstorm can be quite the event for such a small thing.” Barely waiting for a reply, she turned and began to walk towards the cottage, glancing back to gesture at the group.
“Come, come! You are safe here, galdori.” Begrudgingly, the humans began to disperse, though their eyes followed them as they walked.