Michael
**Aria Griff** 
*Vallen, Taemar* 

To say that her blood was boiling was an understatement. Aria swore that she felt her heart throb within her skull, and all she saw was the outline of the King. No sound, just the wild and clearly maddening outline of Gregor as his screaming had numbed. And when she had felt that bloody tusk hit her in her forehead, the hunter was just about ready to take that same item and return it to the King, Preferably to replace the apparent stick up his ass. 

But she let the other woman speak before her emotions took over, using this time to remember her breathing. With each inhale and exhale, the girl weighed her options. On the one hand, she could exact revenge and give the King the righteous punch he oh so deserved. Unfortunately, that meant the high reality of causing war and bloodshed. Which was not a good idea, especially given how bad the plague was hitting the entire continent. And if the King had a way to save the people then he needed to be alive for that information to happen. 

On the other hand, she would then be forced to... Oh gods, *Apologize.* Already the hunter's frown turned into a grimace, hating the idea with a burning passion. If there was one thing Aria believed in, it was fair retribution. And this man had very much caused her harm, as well as thrown her into the metaphorical mud. But, this would not cause any war, and the current Council happenings relied heavily on being in Vallen. And they needed the King alive for that. 

With one last deep inhale, the girl hesitantly turned to the King. "Stop. Stop. I... Have ta be reasonable."

She slowly knelt down, feeling her left pant-leg soaking into the mud and blood. Swallowing back the disgust, Aria cleared her throat while bowing her head. "King Gregor, I do... Beg for ya mercy. I am a mere commoner, and should have been more respectful of ya. I only acted upon me survival, even if I should know better than ta raise a hand ta royals. I ain't familiar with Vallen, and if ya want, I can make it up by leavin' and never returnin' ta ya kingdom for as long as ya live." 

Her eyes did lift to show some type of pleading behind them. "But please, I do beg ya have the Council. Lots of people need it ta happen. I know many of ya people are benefitting from this sudden crowding. It must be boostin' the money, and they rely on it ta survive. If ya let one small, mere commoner like me be the cause for ya people sufferin', then I would have ta find ya not caring for ya people is a shame." She glanced at the pigs while adding "Or ya beasts. I am sure the sight of ya... Unique boars will spread with praise. I surely ain't seen such... Majestic beasts before."
Heather
Cecilia Lyanah 
Vallen

After she had returned to her current place of stay, Cecilia felt her bones beneath her flesh begin to break apart before moulding themselves into a new structure and rearranged into a different position while her body grew in size. Once she had regained her human form, Cecilia wasted no time in readying herself to properly enter Vallen. It barely took her more than a few minutes to dress herself before leaving the building she was residing in for now.

Cecilia began to stroll towards the Grunewald castle while making sure the hooded cloak did enough to hide her face, allowing her to remain unrecognisable. In her mind, all she needed was to reach the islander camp surrounding the castle without being spotted and find the king. There, she would wait until he was at his most vulnerable. She couldn't remember why she felt so much hatred towards the Pirate king as she couldn't remember much from before her death, but when someone offered her the chance to end his life in exchange for her weight in gold, Cecilia jumped at the opportunity.

As she passed through Vallen, the shifter came across many men with weapons. Unsurprisingly, some took this chance of a council meeting, having to face the grunewalds and the safety from the plague as a reason to consume enough alcohol that would leave them with poisoning. This made it so Cecilia had no difficulty with reaching into their clothing for the smaller weapons they carried and plucked them from their sheaths as the men lay in their own puke. Some humans just loved to carry more than one useful weapon on them. Continuing on her path, Cecilia began to drag the /confiscated/ daggers along her skin one at a time, making sure her skin broke in the process so the blood that leaked from her wounds coated the blades. Once done, she would hide them under the material of her clothing while her wounds began to instantly heal. 

Cecilia found herself fortunate that a woman decided to go up against the grunewalds, causing everyone to become distracted with the commotion to notice the shifter. Using her sense of smell to track down the pirate king, she noticed there was no difficulty in doing so as the scent was quite familiar to begin with. Had she met him before she was beheaded and decided to go through trials created by some madman she had met after? She couldn't remember most people she had met, only a small few.
Robert
King Gregor Grunewald
Vallen, Taemar

King Gregor grinned. "There was no pigeon or letter stating that the council would be held here. But, I will oblige you and cease any and all trade with the Iron Plaines," Gregor said to the woman, "Furthermore— stand up, girl, I will not cancel the council. I recognize its importance in these dark times," He said, addressing the kneeling girl, "Royals and nobles from all of Marin would not have flocked here if it was not of complete and utter importance for their kingdoms. Yes, I will host the council." Jovially, Gregor turned to the higher class girl. His grin turned wicked. 

"But you will not be permitted in my castle. You will not be permitted at my council. Find another representative for the Iron Plaines to clean up your mess, or simply let Nathanial Vivayn devour your people. You brought diplomatic matters to this fight, you insulted me in my kingdom, and you had the audacity to order me around. Know your bloodcaste, bitch. Leave Taemar immediately and tell your Lady that you've made a mockery of her decision to send you to represent her." He turned and trudged back to the *Blood Breed*, lifting Zehe's limp form and carrying him back to the castle with his brother wailing behind them.
Wyatt
Golifred Ironbeard
Vallen, Taemar. 

He didn't recall paying for a front-row seat at Vallen's drama theatre, but who would complain with such entertainment! As soon as Golifred saw there was no need for ax swinging bearded midgets, he sheathed his weapon and sat in the grass, watching this scene go down. Every now and then he scratched his beard or yawned when boredom took hold, but the scene inevitably proved to be anti-climatic. Well, in the end anyway.

This Gregor fellow seemed like an interesting ruler - one that had lost his marbles some decade or two ago. The thought of it was amusing to the half-dwarf. Gregor could have a great acting career if he wasn't so batshit crazy. The hunter that knelt? Well, she seemed to have a distinct "Fight or flight" Instinct, something that most humans were born with. In his experience, Golifred knew that when things got heated most people chose to flee instead of fight. But the huntress? She shot first. She had even wounded one of the king's abomination creatures, which had to have taken some guts. The councilwoman - yeesh, she had a sour attitude. Undecided whether it was ego or just anger, Golifred ignored her intervention with a bored yawn, stretching his arms up towards the sky. When the king left, he got up and dusted his trousers off, chuckling with amusement. "If aye had come fer a theatre, I'd be tossin' coins yer way. That was the best thing I'd seen all day, I'll admit. Yer spectacle gave me a froight at first, but I got over et quickly."

He couldn't tell if either of the women could hear him, or rather if they paid enough attention to listen to what he had to say. They probably had better things to do than listen to a short, bearded stranger.
Michael
**Aria Griff**
*Vallen, Taemar* 

Relieved at the man's words, Aria had gladly stood up. She grimaced when her wet fabric stuck to her leg, covered in what she hoped was dirt and blood. She may have been raised in the woods, but even the lowest Shitblood could be disgusted by the implication of sticking any part of their body within the same stuff that they shared a name with. "Ugh, this is great. I just got the last blood stains outta the legs." With a heavy sigh, she watched the man strode away, glaring at his backside as she sent mental curses towards him. 

"Fuckin' royals. More like the King of Madness, that one is," She muttered under her breath. Shaking her head, the girl turned to face the two others. While she glanced briefly at the other female, her brown eyes caught the sight of the dwarf. He definitely was one; his stature and beard spoke only of dwarven roots. "Hope ya enjoyed it. Maybe I should take me cousin's advice and become an actor." Aria snorted, thinking the idea ridiculous. "Anyways, I be ruder than that pig-brained dolt. Name's Aria." Another screech sounded and her falcon appeared from her pouch, having hidden in there during the commotion. "Sorry. And this be Gwynt." She smiled down at the man before looking again at the woman. 

"Hey, don't let that idiot get ta ya. Not everyone who wears a crown deserves it. We should be glad he didn't demand our heads, 'specially mine." Her hand rubbed at her neck, swallowing thickly. It really was a troublesome thought, how close to death she had been. Maybe she ought to visit her family and stay for a while. Safer bet. "Thanks for stickin' up for me. It's rare ta have anyone stand up for us commoners."
Wayne
Blair Orlainne
Vallen, Taemar

The young lady watched silently, the pain in the voice of the woman before her making her gently clutch her own chest, as if resonating with the pain herself. 

"M'lady! We should not delay any longer!" One of the attendants shouted. He was poking his head outside of the carriage door.

Blaire gave the attendant but a glance, feeling frozen in place. She knew that the sooner she arrived at Grunewald Tower, the better. That way, her traveling would finally be done, and she wouldn't have to fret about missing anything important. But on the other front, she simply couldn't abandon someone who clearly was not faring well.

Blaire took a deep breath and stepped into the doorway, holding out her hand.

"I am so sorry that this is happening to you," Blaire said, still surveying the room. "Perhaps there is time yet to ask for a formal search party. I am en route to the Grunewald Tower. Would you care to accompany me? Perhaps we can find soldiers there who would be up to the task."

Blaire had her own misgivings about that idea. She hadn't heard the best things about King Gregor, and so her expectations for the chivalry of his men were admittedly low. But, in a kingdom that was not currently suffering from the plague, she could only imagine that they'd have more time on their hands to help their common folk. At least, she hoped they did.
Heather
Marsila Vema
Vallen, Taemar

Marsila shifted her gaze over the stranger's shoulder and towards the direction of where the Grunewald tower positioned. The view of the castle itself was hidden from the angle she stood due to the thick trunk of wood and it's crown of leaves that stood in the way between the doorway. The Grunewald tower was not something she enjoyed going near and she highly doubted any of the soldiers would care to help her with her troubles. There was a larger issue that would take priority over two missing adults, especially when she hadn't found out about her parents until now. She had no clue how long they had been missing and couldn't help the sinking feeling that her parents were in danger. Marsila could attempt to track them herself as she was a skilled bounty hunter, however she knew that being personally involved made it much more difficult with her emotions distracting her. Bringing herself back from her thoughts, Marsila brought her attention back to the kind stranger who blocked the doorway while extending her hand towards her.

Pursing her lips together, she decided it would not harm her in going towards where every other person was headed. Though the soldiers were no help, Marsila might find luck in finding a mercenary that could aid her in tracking down her parents. A clear head. Even if it took her all the money she had. Releasing a breath she had been unknowingly holding, Marsila took several steps towards the woman who's name she did not know and took her hand to be led outside.

"Thankyou Miss." She was hesitant on what to say, not usually being the one to ask for help, let alone receive any without having to return something in exchange. Especially when that person looked of higher class. "Forgive my hesitance, it's not often someone shows kindness like this. My name is Marsila."
Wayne
Blaire Orlainne
Vallen, Taemar

When the woman took her hand, Blaire couldn't help but to smile. She had her own misgivings about the help they would receive, but if something sinister had happened here, it was probably for the best that they didn't linger there much longer. Blaire would feel just rotten if she left the girl by herself in this home, in a place that had clearly been the victim of something strange, at best, and awful, at worst.

"There is no need to apologize," Blaire said, turning toward the entrance. Her hand held on tightly to Marsila's. "You can call me Blaire. I regret that it is not often when I get to socialize with anyone outside of noble circles. So, I am more than happy to help."

She started guiding Marsila to the steps of the carriage, but paused when she noticed the horse standing outside.

"Is that one yours?" The lady asked, gesturing toward the horse.
Edith
**Wilhelmina Ulster**
**Vallen Taemar**

Wilhelmina knew she had made a mistake. Perhaps one that would have catastrophic consequences. She could have easily lost her head due to her remarks to the king, yet she felt she likely lost something much worse. The ramifications of her actions might have affected millions of innocents of the Iron Plaines. And yet, she was going to stick to her guns. She harbored no respect for a king as vile and rude as Gregor. To her, he represented everything wrong with the bloodcaste system. What gave him the right to unwarrently attack strangers? Why did he have any more value than that woman? Because he was born noble? Wilhelmina had to work for her position, and that *Douchebag* Was lucky enough to be born into a position to power. He had no qualities that made him deserving of that crown. So despite the ramifications, she would not take them back. She utterly refused to. 

She turned to the dwarf, her fists still white knuckled. "Sometimes I do believe that even theatre would be less stressful and less dramatic than this. I despise bastards like him. Almost all of the nobility treat the commonfolk like dirt simply because of who they were born to. I refuse to stand by and let people like him do whatever they want to the people who have more moral fiber in their fingernail than in all of his body. Though, I fear that in defense of one innocent, I have doomed many others. I made a mistake speaking to him in such a manner, but I do not regret doing so in defense of you, Miss. What's done is done, and cannot be undone. Besides, I would feel dirty doing business with one as despicable as him."
Wyatt
Golifred Ironbeard
Vallen, Taemar

"Aye, enjoyed it I did. 'aven't used me ax in a bit and I thought I may have to use it, but I guess not." When the situation had grown into a short-lived brawl, the adrenaline spiked in the half-dwarf and he had been prepared for battle! When it turned out there was no action that needed attending to, the adrenaline still remained. Golifred kept a good poker face, but he felt like hitting something still - he shifted from side to side in anticipation of an event that would never come. 

He looked over to the woman - who seemed like a politician - with a raised eyebrow. He decided now to actively listen to what she had to say, as it seemed important and possibly heartfelt. After she finished her speech, Golifred grunted in agreement and spoke. "If ye don't mind me talkin', I'd say the situation fer common folk doesn't get worse, it's the bastard bloods like meself. It tends to become a fight to ignore those different than ye - moral compass or not, noble folk barely even know I exist because I keep meself away from yer kingdoms. Too much bad blood in yer cities for me, I'd rather remain un-shanked and live a healthy life. Speakin' too a crazy fuck like that man requires me to use me fists, I can't use words like ye because of factors beyond my control. Ye think he's despicable, but in my experience it's all ye royalty. Spit on the ones lower than ye, eh?"
Heather
Marsila Vema
Vallen, Taemar 

Reaching the Carriage, Blair managed to ask the question that had been on Marsila's mind before she had the chance to do so herself. Turning towards the direction of her stallion, she eyed over the horse before turning back towards Blair. 

"He is. Would it be alright for me to attach his rein to the carriage?" She had high hopes it wouldn't be an issue but it was always best to ask. Normally she would trust Romia to remain where he was until she returned, but after witnessing the destruction of her parent's home, marsila no longer felt it was safe enough to do so. "I fear if someone was to return to their scene of crime, they may also take him." 

Marsila couldn't be too careful. She no longer felt safe like she used to around her old home with her parent's disappearance causing her great unease. In some sense, she also felt violated as it was her personal items that had been rummaged through along with her parent's belongings. 

"He is very well behaved so he wouldn't cause any trouble. It will only take a quick second and then I won't waste any more of your time." Hopefully Marsila wasn't asking for too much from Blair, unsure on the boundaries when it came to nobles. The only time she had been around nobility was to discuss a bounty they had given her. The discussions regarding such were usually quite brief, no more than a simple conversation regarding her work.