(T4, Kaionar) Like Herding Cats (18th Board)

Considering the circumstances Ger felt she had no recourse but to do as she was commanded by this strange woman. Thankfully Sildred caught her, or there would've been problems. With the charge having fainted, and now being guarded in the basement by the only man in the whole of the army that she trusted, she strode to the man she was supposed to take outside and crossed her arms. "Easy way or hard way? Easy is I simply lead you outside and lock you out, hard is I batter you to bits and throw you out the door. Which is it going to be?" She hoped the easy way, but she figured the hard way would be more fun.

She knew she didn't have time to wait on an answer, so she began trying to guide him toward the door. "Come on we don't really have time to bat this around, either walk out on your own or get thrown out!" It didn't help that there was something almost familiar about this guy, and it gave her the shivers. For a moment she started to wonder what the dragon wanted with this one, then several other things flashed through her memory in exceedingly rapid succession. Her brain made the connection, but didn't exactly make the whole thing clear, so she simply continued trying to get the man outside. "Go face the bloody thing already!"

The scent was growing stronger and the closer the Tribal Battleblood got to his target, the more the anger was rising within him. Blasphemy! The same thought kept circling in his mind and dictated every single of his movements, and had done so ever since he had smelt the bastard in Racksom for the first time.
Such a creature could not be allowed to live!

The Tribal Battleblood was not thinking clearly, that much was certain and in his furious confusion, Xaoc was tearing the buildings of Kaionar to shreds, burying people and dragons alike underneath the rubble of the falling houses. Many places had already been set ablaze and two- as well as four-legged creatures were running for their lives, screaming and roaring in the process.
Nobody opposed him.
Nobody dared oppose him.
That was the way it was supposed to be.

There! That was the building, he had been right all along. There he was!
Roaring his challenge out to the man, who had somehow ended up with the scent of a dragon’s blood - a Tribal Battleblood nonetheless! – the dragon let go a jet of flame, setting ablaze most of the street surrounding the gate through which the man would soon step.
“Come out, if you dare,” he growled tauntingly, certain that the tiny nothing was trembling in fear before his might. “Come out and play.”

Something had awoken her from her sleep. After working all night long, Vex had planned on spending the rest of the morning dozing away in her shack, protected from the blazing desert sun by what was left of the roof over her head. In the turbulent and noisy Kaionar market there was very little in the way of quiet peace for napping dragons, so she had become used to the rucks of normal every-day life. But this… this was an entirely different sort of noisy.

With a stretch the red rock rose and stuck her head out of a hole in the thatched roof, looking for the source of the chaos and abruptly saw the harsh discrepancy just a handful of streets over. The screaming of the bipeds running away from the black and red dragon tearing up the streets immediately caught her gaze and set her heart to pounding. This couldn't be happening! No way this was happening! But it was, and the acrid stench of burning filling her nostrils confirmed it.

Vex had been brought to Kaionar as a hatchling, barely out of the egg when she was sold on the markets. Her scales bore the marks of a lifetime of harsh servitude, scuffed, ragged and flaked. There was only one thing she knew how to do: defend.

With a tightening of corded muscle and a brief flap of wings, the red rock was on top of the roofs, her considerable weight crushing the smaller structures she passed over them, but in comparison to all the damage the black dragon was making, she hardly thought that anybody would notice or care. There was only a single thought in her head now. Vex had to stop this dragon from tearing up the city. Chase it away from the city or defeat it, whatever it took. There wasn't room to consider failure; it simply wasn't an option.

Picking up speed, Vex bolted flat-out through the city, navigating the twisting streets with practiced ease, a growl building in her chest until the lept at the black dragon with claws extended, an earth-trembling roar leaving her throat as she spat fire at her foe, challenging the much bigger dragon with no thought to her own safety.

As excitement bubbled just under the surface, Felren's blood colored eyes held fixated on the window outside. So much death, so much blood, this is how things should be! Chaos! If the man had a tail, it would be twitching back and forth continually over his sheer amount of energy that was building. That was until Deos decide to switch personalities and start telling him to get out there and fight the thing. He blinked a few times, watching her talk as if he was attached to this lord of theirs. Dragon-slayer. Now that was an interesting word that the man simply couldn't pass up. He watched as whatever had hold of Deos seem to let her go and she passed out. Felren made a noise in disgust at how frail humans were before turning to the next human trying to usher him out of the house. He looked down at the small woman and bared his teeth, his eyes holding an icy cold glint of death. "No one. And I mean no one orders to me to do anything." He leaned in close, inhaling her disgusting sent and swiftly drew his sword, attempting to run it though the woman's gut and end her miserable bossy life.

Without looking behind him to see if his work is finished off, he walked out of the mason to come eye to eye with the Tribal Battle Blood. Blood was everywhere, the sweet scent was as thick in the air as the smoke from all the fire around them. "And here I thought I had the bad temper being cursed to this frail body, dragon." He shook the blade he was holding in case it was holding any blood on it. Before he could actually move any further however, yet another dragon joined the party and began attacking the Tribal Blood. Felren leaned against the burned wall with some mild amount of interest at the turn of events.

Captian Hadanna seemed torn for a short moment. There was in no way any order to protect the city, only Felren and those who got in the way. With a soft sigh as to what the meant for him and his troops he gathered them. "Listen men, I would feel no sorrow if this city fell to a dragon. It would better off anyway...but we have strict orders to guard our Lord's war hero. If Felren is to engage the beast, then so shall we." There were looks of uneasiness but still a hint of determination to do as their Lord wishes. He had seen Deos go down and be carried off to relative safety before going out to an unexpected scene. Another dragon was attacking the Tribal Blood. He shot a look to Felren who just shrugged and continue to watch as if it were a high class show. He kept his men on guard in case they needed to move or fight at any moment.

"I'm shocked you aren't in the middle of this." Hadanna said, talking to Felren with a cautious tone. He never spoke to the man unless it was needed but he nearly seemed relaxed leaning against the wall despite his blood red eyes.

"I've no interest getting involved with the other dragons attempt to kill the Tribal. If they kill each other...fine, or one kills the other then I might join in and pick them off." He said as if he spoke of deciding to squish a bug.

Hadanna looked at him with almost stupid disbelief. The man really must be far gone to believe he could take on a Tribal Blood and live through it, or even the other dragon. Dragon Slaying was a dangerous and not successful life style for most men. "We shall see then..." He said and got a slight nod in response.

Xaoc did not have to wait long for his play toy to come out into the street. However, before he could even reply to the arrogant nobody, a dragon suddenly roared its challenge to him and the Tribal Battleblood looked at a red rock’s reckless attack.

Dragon with a deathwish, he thought before rising to the dare. Meeting her roar with one of his own, he leapt into the air to meet the female, not even noticing the fire she was spewing at him. It did little to him, at least he did not feel much of it, as he was too enraged to take into consideration anything else but killing the two-legged impostor down in the street.

The red rock almost made it too easy for him. The way she was throwing herself into the fight, reckless and without any hint of a thought process whatsoever, made her an even too easy prey for the Tribal Battleblood. Xaoc twisted his bulk and let the red rock crash into him, clawing himself into her body as her momentum made them both fly into the next building.

Xaoc broke their hard landing with his own body but it was nothing to him. He neither felt pain nor broke anything during the crash. It was not important. She did not matter. She would not live long enough to matter. His claws were in her sides after all. If she wasn't careful, she would gutt herself without him doing a thing. It wasn't the most pleasant way for him to fight, but it was the most effective for now. He needed her out of the way. Quickly. He wanted the human. He wanted him now!

Celandine had a rudimentary knowledge of dragons, enough to know that a Tribal Battleblood meant bad business, and it did nothing to reassure her.
“I didn’t think that you had protected against wild dragons,” she muttered to herself at Zold’s conferment. Looking towards the windows again, and the chaos quickly heading their way, then the instant disarray that had hit Zold’s house too, she decided that this was the worst place to be. Back in her house, the other side of Kaionar, would have been a much better choice. But there was nothing she could do about that now. Eyes wide and hands pawing at her dress, she waited for some sort of direction from another member in the room. None came, and she was left feeling increasingly worried.

It did not help when suddenly Deos turned into a raving lunatic, pointing at a red headed supporter of the Surahnians, then the angry pacing Felren, declared some order that sounded like a speech more out of a fairytale than true life, then promptly fainted. Everything was very swiftly falling into disrepair, and Celandine was completely out of her depth. She didn’t want to see the outcome of the encounter between Felren and what sounded like an increasingly angry dragon, so despite the unfriendly look of the Surahnian that had scooped Deorwynn up in his arms, she followed the pair, lifting up her skirts and hurrying after them.

With a couple of pauses to swipe various small trinkets that caught her eye. She couldn’t have them going to waste at the claws of an unfeeling dragon, now could she? And it was not as if Zold would miss them overmuch, his house was not meagre.

She fell behind with her periodical stops, and had to guess the direction as she ran after the pair again, looking this way and that down the little corridors to make sure that she did not miss the turning that they had taken. That would be awful. She was sure that the route that she ended up in was right, but it ended only in a thick wooden door- but the air was cold, and they were at the base of a few steps. This had to be the cellar, if anything.
Looking around to see if anyone else had had the same bright idea as she had, she fearfully knocked on the door.
“Hello? Let me in! That dragon is close, I can hear it!” Her voice rose in pitch as the sound of crashing and roaring came from close by, the tribal battle blood obviously bent on wrecking havoc.

Sildred rose at the sound of a woman's panick-stricken voice, high and almost hysterical. He walked to the door and squatted to look at how thick the shadows of her feet were. So, she was the only one there. He rose and settled his hand on the pommel of his sword, the other on his whip. "No." His order had nothing to do with suddenly becoming the savior of damsels. The Lady Deorwynn was the only woman he'd been given charge of, and his duty was to protect her from harm. He knew nothing of these people, and he was not going to let one in under such convenient circumstances. He knew women usually preferred poison. How much would it take for him to turn his back or blink his eyes before she had poison on him, then on the Lady. It would be easy to say that they died during the dragon attack. One more person in the basement also meant one more mouth to feed should they be trapped. He knew the Lady Deorwynn would help try to get them out of there, she was the kind of woman that would not be stopped by the forces of nature, let alone rubble from a dragon's tantrum. He respected that, still, she was much too dangerous. A woman so politically involved could want nothing from a man but a place to put her feet when she used him to make her way to the top. This woman at the door was likely pampered and used to servants. He would be no woman's servant, and he did not care if that made him seem callous. "Go run elsewhere."

Zold might have paid more mind to Geronimo on another day, but not today. He very much regretted that he had offered his home as an elysium now, as it had turned into the crux of the chaos. People stabbing one another in his home, people breaking in through the windows (geronimo), people throwing his wine glasses, breaking them against his very fine framed paintings - What was this? Was everybody inclined to simply revert to barbarism when chaos ensued? And -

And that WITCH was stealing some of his trinkets!! He hadn't been paying so much attention as he looked around the room, but chance happened that he glanced at her as she nabbed one of his items. Ooooh that enraged him. Possibly more than the attempted stabbing of the other person. He glanced at Geronimo wondering what her role in this was all going to be, before he departed for a moment, darting upstairs to retrieve his most valuable piece.

He came back down holding a ten-year-old girl in a frilly pink dress, carrying her with much care. Anyhow, he decided to leave his worldly possessions to fate for the time being, and EVEN forgive the woman- maybe - who was stealing his stuff. If they lived through this and his house came down, he decided she could hold onto them until he asked for them back. What was she going to say? "No, even though this stuff was yours and you lost your house, you can't have these items back"? Well, then he would just kill her.

For now, he met up with her at the entrance of the cellar. He put the girl down, pulled out a key (shaking his head and mumbling at the rudeness of people in the process), and unlocked the cellar. He beckoned for Celandine to follow, grabbed his daughter's hand, and pulled her down the steps.

For those already in the cellar, it was definitely far from the average basement. It was true that there were some wines and books, but it looked very clearly like a sorcerer's tower. There were tables with papers scattered all about, more glowing runes all over the floor, and a cauldron in the middle. There was, even in the basement, some deeper corridors that branched deeper, unlit, that smelled rather of rank and decaying flesh.

"I suspect you've made yourself quite at home," Zold spat to Sildred. "I've offered you my hospitality, and what have you done with it? Hoarded it. If you behave like this once more, I will forcefully expel you from MY home - one that YOU make NO decisions in - and you will find elsewhere to hide or I will strike you down. Do you understand me?"

The poppet behind him, who shall henceforth be known as Rose to prevent confusion, looked around quite alert, but also looked to be in a little bit of a haze. It was kind of surreal, a dragon attacking in the middle of the town. Her house had never been in quite so much danger before.

The new lady that seemed so panicked over the dragon just grated at her nerves like coarse sandpaper to a plank, and chided Zold. "One thing to remember about these Surahnian soldiers, they follow orders and do nothing more or less than that. Sounds cruel in situations like this, but it's how they're trained. I've been assigned as extra protection, and as such I suppose I'll babysit this. . .priss as well." she finished sourly, glancing at Celandine. "Provided she stay quiet and return the things she's taken." Something about that woman just ticked her off to no end, and Sildred would likely find some sort of amusement in her losing her temper.

Sildred had been right to refuse her based on what he knew; it was also not his house so he didn't have the authority to do anything as such. She moved cautiously about the basement, having been there before and her day not turning out so pleasantly in due course. "You will sit and be as quiet as possible, understood?" she asked. It was when she noticed Rose that she softened her face and tried not to look so harsh for fear of scaring the poor girl. "Don't think we'll see any trouble out of the little one."

Sildred stared impassively at Zold, and the hysterical woman, the one that blocked their path now that he remembered. The little one didn't receive a passing glance, and Sildred remained stock still, his hands on his weapons, the Lady Deorwynn lying (he hoped) comfortably on some sacks of grain. "In Surahnia, we do not make threats we cannot carry out." His arms were a great deal bigger than Zold's, from swinging swords, his legs were strong from marches and horse-back riding, his core was strong from training. He was built for battle, for war. To think that this... pampered lord could do anything to him was laughable, and he'd brought along a liability at that. "As a father, I'd threaten not a single man with my daughter in tow, unless he meant her harm. I do not mean her harm, henceforth you should quiet down. I and Geronimo are the only ones with swords in this basement. Should it come to it, we are the only ones that can fight for your lives. Do not make yourselves any less worthy of saving than you already are." His accent was quite thick, but he spoke understandably. He had the unique ability to show not a single emotion as he spoke. He didn't sound angry, or upset, or offended. In fact, he sounded like he was talking to a lesser soldier. And Ger was right, he had been following orders, and a soldier did not follow rules of house when they conflicted with orders.

It had been hot, and they'd been swimming in their own sweat, their armor made uncomfortable and itchy, but Sildred was past that now, comfortable in the heat. Sure, he probably smelled musky, and yes it was much, much cooler in the basement, but he trusted not a single soul to remove his helmet. With it on, he looked like the others, and the black bands around each of his arms were surely looked over. They elevated his status, not that Zold would know. No soldier was too good for an assignment directly from the King, but the man had been basically trying to reprimand an Elite. Even the Kaionarian nobles were a joke, all pomp and bluster.

"And in Kaionar - no, in ANY civilized place, one does not threaten a MAN in his own HOME," Zold said, with growing impatience. Ahhh, pride; the great enemy of acceptance. Still, although Zold was already impatient, he wasn't raising his voice. Just emphasizing certain words. He was staying calm enough, all things considered. "If you think I cannot carry out my promises, you are dead wrong." Hell, this was his basement. It was full of all his magical everything. All of his vials of acid, and a few hidden swords... but if these folks wanted to strut around thinking that he couldn't defend himself, they were welcome to underestimate him. Lord or not, he knew his way around a fight, and had a fit enough stature.

Zold reached down and gently took Rose's hand, and ushered her into a hallway. He knelt down, told her to stay calm, and patted her hair affectionately. He left Rose in the hallway, and pulled a sliding door out of the wall and shut it firmly. He bolted the door, and slapped a rune on it in chalk. It gave a glow, and then faded.

At least when he closed the door the stench of decaying flesh was muted a little bit.

Zold turned back to Sildred and narrowed his eyes. "This is not your basement. That's strike two. Leave. Geronimo, you can stay, but this meathead has overstayed his welcome. He's not MY soldier, and if he is a soldier (as he says), I'm confident that he can protect his damsel in distress somewhere else. Now, I'm certainly not over-eager for a battle on two fronts, but I doubt you are either. However, this is fast looking like what it's boiling down to."

Pain. Blinding, scale ripping pain! Oh gods what had she done? Vex could scarcely breathe for the fire ripping through her chest, her crushed scales a testament to the power of the dragon that she had engaged without a thought to her own safety. She was desperate with panic and swung her head around, going for the source of all this mind-numbing pain: Xaoc's claws. She opened her mouth wide, hissing in fury and aiming to chomp her jaws around the bloody dragon's paws in an effort to get the beast off of her. Her bladed tail swung in disorganized swipes, leveling a building or two as she tried to twist out of the Battleblood's claws without spilling her entrails all over the road, tearing at whatever she could reach with her claws, digging them under scales and ripping at the thick armor covering the entirety of the black dragon.

*~*~*

She was floating in a world beyond reality, her consciousness simply drifting in and out of the seas of time, brushing against the mysteries of the universe without ever being able to actually see what laid beneath the waters of destiny. It was a frustrating place to be in, but Deorwynn didn't try to reach out. She simply did nothing but enjoy the nothing-everything while it lasted. She knew from experience that if she had just had an experience powerful enough to knock her here then it really wasn't worth waking up to reality just yet if she could help it.

Noises penetrated the soundless landscape, and the mists faded rapidly to black, her consciousness brought back to earth by whatever was going on outside her head. Even so, she was rueful to come to consciousness, for the moment that her brain pulled her out of the deep trance-like sleep, a migraine the proportions of which were indescribable by any words seemed to split her head in two. Damn and double damn. And the vision hadn't really even been all that clear, either. She didn't comprehend the argument that was going on, could barely think straight with her pounding head, and the two voices she vaguely recognized as being male chittering back and forth with each other really weren't helping. When she opened her eyes a crack, it was to only see a darkened stone ceiling, she dared not move just yet for fear of what it would do for her poor head.

When the world began to make sense again it was to hear Sildred and Zold going at it, and she could just barely keep from rolling her eyes at the conversation. Though Surahnians might be good at war, they certainly had no tact. Or, at least, the mobile meat-head with a led bar for a heart didn't have any. Honestly, she shouldn't have even been exasperated, but the headache really wasn't doing her any favors at this point. Gingerly, she sat up, her face white as a sheet and seemingly double white against her black hair, her eyes clouded with a pain she couldn't quite hide despite all of her best acting skills. Well, perhaps that would be to an advantage. Zold certainly didn't seem in such a forgiving mood when confronted with a perfectly healthy armed man. Perhaps he would be a bit softer on a woman obviously under duress?

"Gentlemen." She spoke up once a lull in the argument presented itself, carefully sliding her legs off the- was she sitting on a mound of sacks of grain?- and onto the floor, contemplating standing before deciding that it would be a bad idea. "Surah, I thank you over the concern for my health." She said gently, not believing for a second that Sildred cared so much about her personally as much as he cared about following orders. "My Lord Zold, I would like to apologize for my guard. He takes his duty very seriously, and his utmost objective is to make sure that I come to no harm. I hope you can understand." There was a slight tinge of a plea to her tone as she addressed Zold and she sent a hard look to Sildred and… whoever this new person was wearing the Surahnian colors, hoping that they would understand her silent command to not tick this noble off more than they already had. As confident as she was that between the two sword-fighters they could most certainly decapitate the fool with little effort, the worth of his life was possibly more than a basement. If she could somehow convince Zold to become an ally, then he would provide a much-needed foothold in this friendless city.

This little beast showed grit, he had to give her that, but nonetheless, Xaoc was disinclined in removing his claws from her body. The many times she managed to scratch him and even draw blood did nothing to him.
He could not have cared less at this moment in time.
Any other time, he might have played with her a little longer but he was out of patience for games. He wanted the human. And the red rock was getting in the way.

The Tribal Battleblood almost let out a laugh though when the female tried to nibble his claws. It was almost ticklish rather than painful and her desperate attempts to free herself were getting more and more foolish with every passing heartbeat. She would kill herself soon enough, if he kept holding on to her.

For a brief moment, a spark of fear flared to life inside him when he realised just how many buildings she had already ruined with her tail. Nobody else killed the human! Not even by mistake! If any of the rubble had grazed the human, he would make her suffer!
In his suddenly uncontrolled anger, he let go of the dragon and practically threw her out of his claws, uncaring whether her claws or her bladed tail grazed him or not, as he made a headfirst dive towards the human below, breathing fire all the way down.
Xaoc could finish her off later, if she was still alive by then and worth the chase.

As Felren lounged again the building with all amount of leisure on his face, Hadanna had other thoughts. This was one of the worst places just to be standing around in. If Felren wanted to fight whatever creature was left over, fine, but to stand here and wait for the building to fall on them was another matter. Just as he was thinking such thoughts, he noticed the Tribal fixed it's gaze on them in an almost frantic manner and before he knew it fire was raining down on them. "Run!" He commanded his men, "Make for the south side away from all of this!" Hadanna watched as his men went with only a few concerned glances to their leader.

Hadanna turned back to Felren, "I know you want to fight these things and all...but is there a possibly you could come with me to as you don't burn to death first?"

Felren's blood red gaze fixed on Hadanna as he spoke, he scented fear from the man and rightly so. The last person that tried to tell him what to do got a taste of his blade. With a shrug of his broad shoulders he turned as if to follow the man with a devilish grin. "If only to continue to see the look on your face, yes." Hadanna didn't take the chance of giving a reply and began to move off the burning porch and away from the mason.

"Come find me when you are done playing, Tribal." Felren waved his hand in the air, not even looking behind him as he did so.

Xaoc roared in fury as the human simply turned around and walked away from him when he was just about to rip his head off and burn the rest to ashes. The flames should already have injured him enough anyway but the other human – he would pay for such insolence! – was leading his prey away from him.

The Tribal Battleblood did not care how small the street was nor how many buildings he was ruining during his pursuit but he simply crashed through whatever was in the way without concern for the scratches and bruises he was giving himself.
There was only one thought in his mind.

Giving one last push with his wings, he smashed his hand into the secondary human he had no interest in, brushing him away like a fly before pouncing on the one he wanted, wrapping his massive claw around the suddenly so frail looking body of the human he had been chasing since Racksom.
Finally!
Finally, he had the man in his claws.
Finally, he was going to get his revenge and make this shell of nothingness pay for his blasphemy, for the massacre on Xaoc’s brethren for this worthless human to be bathed in the blood of an almighty Tribal Battleblood dragon.

Sildred ignored both Zold's words and the Lady Deorwynn's stare. He was a Surahnian, and were it not for his orders, he would have embedded his sword in Zold's jaw and abandoned the Lady. She was nothing natural, and she made him uncomfortable, but he was neither one to shirk his duties nor one to be called a coward. He was also not one to start a fight, but he could end one and he'd had enough of this desert heat and mouthy noblemen already. Still, he held his temper in check and remained as stone-like as ever.

When their King marched his armies, he hoped this fool would be one to take up the sword, he'd love nothing better than to crush all the petty noblemen. It was this kind of senseless expenditure and grandiose attitude that had crippled the Surahnian royalty and had allowed for the Lahrukan's genocide of their people.

He didn't remove his hands from his hips, where his sword and whip rested. The black bands around his biceps strained as he nonchalantly adjusted a strap. His helm was sitting atop a stack of grain, and he waited for the Lady to finish her... apology of sorts before he walked over to it and picked it up, sliding it back on his head. The weight was a comfort and he'd rather not be considered someone to talk to. There was something about people willing to talk to soldiers without helms. With the helm, he looked like all the rest, and therefore not a person, which he was glad for. These people were insane, this heat was insane and that noble was most definitely insane. All of Kaionar... was insane.

Celendine hated to be so out of control that she couldn’t get access to a safe haven in this hellhole house, until Zold himself came down to the cellar and let her in. That bastard soldier, she hoped he’d get eaten by that crazy dragon outside. Let all the bastards get eaten by the dragon outside. She calmed a little once inside the cellar (who would have thought such a place would be calming, it was the last place she would normally have wanted to find herself end up), but her face was scarlet with embarrassment. It reddened further at the sharp words of the other soldier that Deos had brought with her in her little contingent, and she would have had sharp words in any other situation. But, as the first soldier said, he and the other tall one were the only ones with swords.

She had to consign herself to being silent on the matter and finding a corner to brew in until things (hopefully) turned a little more to her favour. Although when Zold called Kaionar a civilized place, she almost, almost let out a laugh. He was deluded if he thought the rough city civilized. Perhaps he had spent his whole life in Turich before now?

Celendine was frightened, she was out of her depth and naturally manipulative, for a Kaionarian (although not particularly skilled), but even she could see at this point that Zold was a complete fool, the way he was acting. It may have been his house, but ordering a soldier who had already proved his stubbornness to protect his ward in the basement to leave… well, she could see such bluster would be about as effective as shouting at a brick wall to paint itself purple. And she had thought that he might have been a useful ally.

Her eyes flicked immediately to Deos as she suddenly stirred, no doubt by the two men’s arguing. Well, perhaps that would bring a halt to it. It was so boring to listen to, and would get them nowhere. And probably bring even more people down to the basement. She leaned forward from her perch against an old cabinet, curious to see if she was still in the odd mind that she had been in before. Apparently not.
“Lady, have you come to harm?” she asked quietly. Perhaps showing a little compassion now would at least grant her an iota more of favour from this woman, unlike the outright contempt that she had apparently gained from all the rest.

Zold was far from admitting that his picking a fight had been foolish, but even WITH his pride, he had to at least admit that he didn't want any physical threats right here, right now. Sildred was being quiet now and letting his lady talk for him, and, more importantly, he wasn't implying that he would hurt Rose, nor was he implying that Zold wasn't being a good father right now. While Zold wasn't any kind of sucker for soft women who needed to be rescued, he did, on occasion, listen to reason. Though, more importantly, he DID appreciate apologies and humility, from anybody. Not that Zold was afraid (because he wasn't), and not that his feelings were hurt (because they weren't), but apologies was really just another way to appeal to Zold's Ego and Pride. It was a way of admitting that they needed him, and they had seen the error of their ways because they were simply less capable of caring for themselves without him.

Ego and Pride was everything, you know. If there was one way to get to Zold's heart, small as it was, it was through his over-inflated pride. Apologies were better because flattery was so easy to see through. An apology was a blatant admission to Zold being right, and the apologizer being wrong.

But even with this sucking-up, Zold absolutely did not take the last "threat" lightly at all. Although the man was making a statement more about Zold's parenting, Zold had basically heard "If you start a fight, I'm targeting your daughter". It made him understandably wary.

While he didn't necessarily go to being "at ease", he did smooth out his vest calmly, sniff haughtily, and nodded. "Best you should keep him in check, ma'am," he said, ever-calm. "You will understand that in times of Crisis, I would rather not have the strangers that I invite into my home turn against me or my other guests." He didn't care about them, but again, it was all a matter of pride. "I will let his previous slight slide, unless it should happen again. I will not tolerate ANY words that I might perceive as a threat towards me or mine. Threatening my daughter is simply barbaric, and I wil not allow such a person in my home. Should he speak to me at all, you and your guard will be dismissed from my home. If he so much as looks at my daughter, you and your guard will be dismissed from my home. Is that understood, Madam?"

He turned from her before caring to listen to an answer to Celendine's question. If it made Celendine feel any better, Zold didn't find Celendine contemptable at all, in spite of her thieving attempt. He only truly hated people who he truly feared or people who he felt were truly superior to him. Celendine had the privilege of not having such dramatic respect from Zold. After all, he had practically defended her when she had been kept out of his basement, after he had invited her there. She was a minor annoyance, if not charmingly daft.

Anyhow, he went back to the door that he had locked his daughter behind, and unlocked it with magics. It looked like he had drawn another rune ontop of it and the other runes Vanished, but he was very, very careful to not reveal what that was. Once the runes were gone, he took a simple key and unlocked it in the more traditional way. His daughter was staying very quiet, but looking quite perturbed that she had been forced to wait in the smelly corridor. He re-closed the door for the sake of everybody's sense of smell.

"So, Geronimo," Zold started. He set up a comfortable seat for himself and his daughter on one side of the basement, keeping himself separated from the rest of them if he could, and several runes lied between him and them. It was a very intential placement. "Geronimo... how is my favorite butler Alec? Doing well, I hope?" He asked. "I understand that he found his son's corpse... Poor man, no parent should have to watch their poor child die." With his free hand, he gave Rose's hand a gentle squeeze. "My upmost sympathy goes out to him," he said. Something about his tone actually sounded... kind of sincere. It was an odd tone that Zold didn't usually adopt, so it sounded weird coming from him. Rather out of character. But it did seem genuine.

"Corpse? Haven't heard a thing about it honestly! Last I saw of Alec he was happy as could be expected, and that was fairly recently. If he'd found his son, alive or dead, I'd have heard about it. If what you say is the case, I'll convey your sympathies when I return home." It wasn't that she didn't take his word at face value, it was that it conflicted with how things had been not too long before she'd come to Kaionar. "If that turns out not to be the case, you've more of a sense of humor than I gave you credit for!" It hadn't taken much to switch her from soldier to diplomat, and considering the situation, she didn't want Sildred taking the blame for something that wasn't really his fault.

"Also, you mustn't really blame Sildred for his behavior; Surahnian soldiers are quite famous for their loyalty and strict sense of discipline. I expected nothing less from him than what he's done thus far. While it may anger you and most other nobles, it's simply a matter of culture. It was a shock to me as well, but once you get accustomed it's no real matter." She looked over at Celandine and frowned again. "Who exactly is that...annoying woman with Lady Deorwynn?" Being a noble herself, she had every right to insult who she saw fit, if the situation called for it.

"I have not been accosted, no." Deorwynn answered shortly in a soft voice to the young noble girl, rubbing the center of her forehead in a vain attempt to relieve her splitting headache. She didn't even hear most of Zold's long list of complaints, too busy wishing for a large barrel of strong wine to douse her pain in, but alas, she was no conjuror and none was going to magically appear for her. More's the pity. When Zold was done having his little rant, she answered with a small "I understand completely" then dove straight back into her pity party for one. By the gods, were these two really talking about old acquaintances while there was a dragon outside tearing down the city? If she could have heard Sildred's thoughts at that moment, she would have whole heartedly agreed with him. These people were mad as march hares.

But the Surahnian woman who had rolled in the window with a dagger did pose a good question. Who was this girl? They hadn't exactly gotten through proper introductions between Captain Hadanna's pushy nature and Zold's flamboyant entrance followed by a rampaging dragon attack. Whoever she was, apparently she wasn't important enough to warrant her own turn in the flow of conversation. So a very, very minor noble. Maybe not even house affiliated at all. "While we're making introductions," Deos started, taking a good look at the woman with the Surahninan armor that did not in any sense of the word look like a typical Surahnian, and barely female at that, "who are you? I do not remember you as being part of my escort, but you seem to know my men well enough." Had Zartear sent along another little spy to keep her under watch and make sure that the Great Hero Felren didn't meet an unfortunate end in the city of assassins?

"Geronimo Bloodmace, M'lady." she returned shortly. "And mainly I am here simply to guard 'you', but I'm also currying favor as most Surahnians don't trust me." Probably the most obvious statement she'd made that whole day, but with everything going on it was also the most sensible. "I'm also here to keep Praxus sane." she joked. She also just desperately wanted to travel, at least a little bit. Somehow sitting about doing practically nothing was not all too appealing to her, likely because she never had many chances to do nothing. "How long will we be down here? This place holds next to no fond memories to me, and a gut feeling tells me our party would be safer OUTSIDE the city walls or at least in a safer building further from the monstrosity on the lawn."

Added roaring indicated an additional dragon or two, that was just peachy. "You can all continue to have your little tiff once we're collectively out of range of that beast." Nobody else seemed to be doing anything to get away from the house, but it was the logical way to go about it, yes? "Is it not the goal to protect yonder raven haired lady? If so, for the sake of us all, let us abandon this cellar of sorcery and find somewhere more. . .sanitary." The last bit was said with a degree of uncertainty mixed with a heaping spoon of disgust at the smell of rotting flesh. "No offense meant to Zold, but he knows what goes on down here better than anyone."

"Mph. Actually, in this case Geronimo, I quite agree."

Zold sighed and picked up some chalk. "I suppose clinging to the physical in this case will only get me killed, and I certainly do not want that. Well then." He began crossing marks onto a wall with the chalk, then tossed the chalk aside when he was done. He reached into a pouch, and pulled out a handful of what looked like dust, and threw it onto the runes, too. Then he placed his hand in the center of the mess and closed his eyes. Obeying the commands, the wall began to curl into itself, creating a tunnel. Zold grabbed a crystal orb and started walking into the unfinished tunnel - the deeper he walked, the deeper the tunnel went.

He paused for a moment to make sure Rose was with him, once the building had started. He pulled her close to him, then picked her up and put him onto his back with a piggie-back-ride, then continued on.

"Well, anybody who wishes to get out, please follow me. I ask that you keep anything you found in my cellar where you found it -" that mostly being directed to Celendine. "- On the off-chance my home is still standing, I'd rather like to come back to it with everything in tact. And, I promise you that the cellar has nothing of value to anybody else. The components are only useful to myself. In any case, we should be able to travel a good long ways beneath the ground before we have to surface, and hopefully that means we can escape the dragon's destruction."

Celandine did not like to be ignored. Being ignored was not on her list of things to do in a day, and especially by those who were in no more fortunate a place than her- especially by those who were not in a more fortunate place than her! So naturally, at Geronimo’s unsubtle words towards her, however quietly said (or not even quietly, the cheek!) she bristled visibly, flicking her hair over one shoulder and folding her arms over one another. Any attempt at trying to stay above the bickering going on between the rest of those in the room vanished; she would not let such a uncultured solider impinge on her honour in such a way!
“Excuse me!” she said sharply, her brows drawing together. “I should not be so quick with your words, especially when you do not know who you are talking to. Annoying! What a generalization to draw so quickly. I should call you impudent, for both your words and your… entrance.” She huffed unhappily to herself again, fixing the red-head with a sharp stare.

Despite this little tiff though, she did have to make her introduction, as embarrassing as it was following such a question, worded so impolitely. Not towards this soldier though, he was unimportant; more towards Deos, and Zold in turn- he a little more. It was his house, he had shown her a little kindness, and Deos… well, there was strangeness around her.
“I am Celandine, of house Serhys.” Now she did turn to Geronimo, if only briefly. “And I don’t like your tone; if you are currying favour, then you aren’t doing it well.”
No favours would Geronimo be earning from Celandine.

Zold might earn differently though, with his offer of finally being rid of this disgusting cellar. Her relief was quick as he started to give them an escape route, offering only an innocent expression at his rather pointed words (she would overlook them, there was nothing down here of interest anyway, and before such a glittering object only had taken her interest for its… well, glittering qualities). She would not be turning down his offer for a long stay in a grim, dark, cold cellar.

Sildred was Surahnian, and thus pale as milk, but he paled further (almost gray in hue) when he saw Zold use his magic. He looked to the Lady Deorwynn, then at Geronimo, then to Celandine and realized this was probably normal to them. Incantations and runes and chalk drawings, all of it was grounds for death for a Surahnian. Only Lahrukans could wield magic so formidably. Any Surahnian wielding magic had to be of Laruhkan descent, or a Lahrukan in disguise. He couldn't trust magic, and he had great mistrust in Zold, and his "magic" tunnel. He gripped the hilt of his sword tightly and held out his arm for his Lady.

"We will have words later, Geronimo."

His tone was not friendly, which meant she'd committed some horrible mistakes concerning army heirarchy and Surahnian custom. Just because they were out in her lands did not mean she could suddenly act as though she was above her rank or had to explain his behavior.

Sildred looked to the Lady and reached into his breastplate, producing a flask. "Do not say I was unkind to you." He handed it to her. He was uncomfortable, walking into the tunnel, but he had to hold Deorwynn up, so he would curb his feelings and concentrate on doing his job. However, he would refuse any other "special" assignment into Kaionar, whether or not he was asked for by name. Sildred Praxus was a loyal dog, not some kind of native sympathizer, not that he hated them. He was a Surahnian first and foremost and he would always be.

"Understood, Praxus." Her gaze shifted to Celandine and she raised an eyebrow. "Geronimo, House of Bloodmace. I curry no favor from you but from the army. You are a complication, nothing more, nothing less. Now move little lady or I'll carry you like a sack of potatoes." By her height alone she had the right to call many people "little", but there was more than one facet to her insult and she knew hardly anyone would pick up on it. She was also reminded of why she disliked women so much, this Serhys woman was everything she despised in her gender. "You are just like many of your breed miss: judgmental and easily-insulted with a superiority complex." Her 'breed' being a female noble. She herself was one, and she wasn't insulting Zold any more than she already had, but women with money just worked her last nerve.

The end of the tunnel was in sight and thank whatever gods existed for that because she was about to have a panic attack at how much the walls seemed to close in around her. Too much dark for too long really had started to affect her, but once the light of day could be seen she perked back up. "Thank the gods." she breathed. She was aiming to be one of the last people out, simply out of courtesy, but then realized she'd probably be more help getting people out from up top. She hurried up the ladder and held a long arm down to help someone up. "Children and women first please." she called, trying to sound polite.

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