Festival of the First Snow

[The Don]

Jaem sneered in the mirror as he fastened the last button on his dress coat. With all the layers and buttons and accesories, and only one working hand, it had taken him nearly an hour just to get dressed. Finally, he put on the last accessory. It was a stone hand, red, oddly enough. At least, he thought it was stone. It felt like unbreakable rock, but looked like laquered red glass. He had never bothered to ask questions when he found it a few months before he returned to the Band. He thought it may be one of those ter'angreal he had seen in the White Tower, but even if it was, he couldn't use the One Power, so it was only a prosthetic hand for him. It fastened with a strap that tied around his forearm where his hand had been cut off. It seemed a flimsy way to put it on, but somehow it had never fallen off unless Jaem untied it himself. As he put it on, he felt a renewed sense of pride. He looked again in the mirror and saw the true image of the Commander of the Band of the Red Hand. He stood straight and tall, taller than most men, especially here in the Two Rivers. The red coat and black trousers hugged his muscular form so he looked once more like the young man who had trained with Warders and killed Myrrdraal. His light sword hung from his hip. With that sword he could fight anything; man, beast or shadowspawn. He was Jaem Caran, Blademaster, Commander of the single most powerful army on the planet.

 

Smiling, he left his quarters. Even the scar across his face made him feel more deadly. He walked through the light cover of snow on the ground, the reason for the gala. As he mounted his tall red horse, he felt as one of the Four Horsemen of Tarmon Gai'don. Jaem, the Red Conqueror. He liked the sound of that. Then he stopped himself. The Band were not conquerors, they were protectors. Still, they were a powerful force. Idly, he thought of another run at Tarwin's Gap. No. That would come soon enough, he thought, there were other uses for the Band right now.

 

As he trotted through the streets, he lifted up his red hand, and soldiers cheered. They lifted their weapons and asked when they would have the chance to face Trollocs again. "Soon, my friends." Was Jaem's answer every time. Odd, they never did that when he was riding before, or almost never. Must be the outfit.

 

He arrived to the hall where hundreds of others waited for him so they could enter and start the festivities. He gave his horse to one of the stablehands and waded his way to the door. "Friends," He finally called out when he was in front of them all, "Soldiers, Officers, Brothers and Sisters. My appologies for tardiness. Enter now, and celebrate!"

[Jehaine]

Upon seeing who was arriving, Saira had shied to the back of the crowd almost instinctively, hiding behind one of the more wide-shouldered of the Band's troops to block her view. It wasn't as if she didn't want to see the Commander -- her Commander, she really needed to get herself used to that! -- but rather she didn't want to see the creature Jaem was currently sitting on.

 

A horse.

 

Though normally she'd have snuck away from the crowd to listen at a distance, she somehow felt as if she would be able to handle being within twenty feet of a h-h-horse, attributing it to the aura of leadership that seemed to radiate from the man. Even so, she let out a relieved sigh when she noticed him dismount; for a minute there she was afraid they'd all be forced to ride off to somewhere for the festivities. She didn't want to miss out after all.

 

After Jaem gave the official sign to begin, the party broke loose. Saira relaxed somewhat when she failed to spot the horse around, and walked into the crowd of people waiting on their chance to enter the hall where the Festival of the First Snow was going to be held. Taking deep, regulated breaths to calm her pounding heart, the young Kandori decided going for something cold to drink would be for the best. There was always the chance to talk later on, when she had less adrenaline pumping through her system.

 

 

Saira

Equinophobic

[Tigara]

Heather grinned in amazement at the assemblage. She loved when the snows fell and the first one was always the best. It reminded her of the days when she would run outside and roll down a hill on the freshly fallen snow. There were few feelings better than that. She was sure her braid whipped the man behind her as she sharply turned her head to watch the Commander approach on his dazzling red horse. It was an inspiring scene.

 

She was right in the middle of the rush into the hall after Commander Jaem bid them enter. The aromas nearly killed her. Everything smelled soooo good that she wanted to eat and drink everything in sight. her mom always said that she had her father's appetite. She took and plate and heaped all sorts of delicacies on it. Fresh golden rolls with warm butter and apple jam, roast beef seasoned to perfection and soaking in gravy, potatoes and carrots cooked in the meat juices. It was to die for. She meandered over to the table with the drinks and took a mug of hot apple cider. The perfect beverage for the Festival of the First Snow. A girl shyly approaced the table and Heather racked her brain to remember the girl. What was her name? Jenessa? No! Sarah? No. Think Heather. Saira! That's it!

 

"Hi Saira! You should try the beef. It's amazing! Are you having fun?"

 

Heather al'morris

Festive!

[Liitha]

A.D. looked in the mirror and wanted to scream in frustration, she couldnt get the braid to look desent with these new ribbons, they were to stiff, she undid it again and curled the ribons in her hand. But she wanted them in there, the olive green matched her new pants so well. While the skin pants was brown, the tone matched with the soft olive green. She looked around and her eyes conected to the pitcher, of course, in a few strides she had crossed the room and dipped the ribons in the water till they was soaked. Twisting them to rid of exec water she looked at the now much softer though wet ribons, but when they dried it would be all good.

 

Going back to the mirror she split her hair in 5 equal parts, and slowly she redid her braid with the 3 ribons in them. A few moments later she finaly looked content in the mirror, it worked, she grabed her shirt from the chair and put it on, excelent, she twisted infront of the mirror and smiled to herself, diving into her closet she found the jacket which was matching with the pants, she was ready. Looking around her room a last time to make sure she hadnt forgoten any candles she picked up the one from the dresser that she was bringing along.

 

All content she grabed her lemonade bottle and hooked it on her belt, and her dried meat snack bag went beside it, and then she headed out into the snow. It was a clear evening and she could for sure see the stars shining brigth in the sky as she headed towards the noisy area that clearly marked out the festivities which was to happen tonight. As she arived at the outskirt she stoped to observe from the distance for a moment.

[The Don]

This was definately not his scene anymore. Six or seven years ago, Jaem Caran would have been feasting and drinking and dancing with all the rest. Things were different then. He wasn't the Commander, first of all, only a Banner Captain. Even as Captain General, he would have let himself have fun though. It wasn't his rank. He had seen the best and the worst life had to offer. He had seen the glory of the Light at it's finest. He had also looked into the very heart of the Shadow. This little party was for the young and inexperienced. He looked over to his command staff. They were seeming to have a good time. They were far from inexperienced... or young. He bit into his mutton and sipped his water. He felt a hand clap his shoulder. "Drink up, Jaem." Modi handed him a mug of ale. "Its a party!"

 

"Modi, you know I don't drink anymore." He couldn't. It made him into a pitiful shell that he had to live in for five years. Besides, he was in training. He needed his body to be finely honed to maintain the skills of a Blademaster.

 

"Aw, come on! One drink won't kill you."

 

He looked into the cold mug. It had a nice fizzy head on it. The color was a perfect gold. It wouldn't really kill him. He could drink five and not be drunk. "Ah, why bloody not!" He took a sip... and it was magical. Once it hit his lips... so... good...

[Arlen]

Braxen opened his eyes with a start, then relaxed as memory caught up with reflexes. "Still in the barn" he muttered to himself. Sometime during the night, the spider that fascinated him closed up and retreated back into the shadows of the eaves above the barn door.  As Braxen sat up from his makeshift pallet of hay and cloth, he took in his surroundings with a more experienced eye. The barn was well made, he noticed someone who cared about the work he .. or she, he reminded himself, put forth. He approved of this, better to do something right and true if you are going to do a thing.  Braxen noticed the stalls were clean and well kept even though there was no livestock at present, a sure sign that he should make haste with his departure, as a barn well kept means the owner makes frequent trips to tidy things.

 

 

            Braxen gathered his belongings, a old blanket in need of repair, a sack that he adjusted to be put on his back while leaving the arms free, and the long knife he "liberated" from a careless caravan guard. Braxen made a quik but thorough scan of the immediate area and found that whoever owned the barn was not in sight. Sometime during the evening the rain had changed to snow and a light covering now covered the field surrounding the barn.

 

"Blood and bloody ashes, ifin anyone acomes around 'ere they're agonna know someones been about". He swore silently. there was no way around it, he knew, he just hoped he was well away before someone noticed. Moving with a quikness that only a man in his shoes would know , Braxen put on his wide brimmed hat,settled his pack on his back, nodded his head in farewell to the spider, and headed out of the barn towards the woodline a few hundred meters to the west of the barn at a brisk walk.

 

 

When Braxen made the woodline, he moved far enough into it to be out of sight if someone was looking in from the clearing. Here in the woods, the snow was not so unforgiving as it didn't cover all the ground making it not so easy a task to track him. Braxen had done no harm nor damaged any property for the Barns owner to seriously want to track him down now that he was away. Braxen stopped by a small stream, slung off his pack and did his toilet. Braxen then went into a series of stretches and exercises to work the kinks out and to prepare himself for the day. He had been doing this every morning since he decided to follow up on the rumor he had heard about an army, Red Band of the Hand or somesuch, taking on recruits. At first, he believed it to be just a rumor, no substance to it, but as he went from town to village to town he began to put snippets of overheard conversations together and piece together a pretty clear picture. There was an army somewhere in Andor that did not answer to a King or Queen or any other head of state and that they were recruiting. It was not easy to piece things together, and took a score of weeks to actually confirm there was an army, but he was determined to find the truth of things.

 

 

His exercises complete, Braxen took out his long knife and began a series of moves taught to him near twenty years earlier, for a blade larger than the one he was using.  The series was not complex, Just the basics of guard, parry , thrust, but he was determined to not embarrass himself if he got the opportunity. After about two turns Braxen put his knife down , opened his pack and took out some bread and a hunk of cheese he "aquired" in Tarren Ferry a few days ago and broke his fast, took a drink and filled his waterskin from the stream, resettled everything and headed in the general direction of Two Rivers.

 

 

 

(( ooc - greetings everyone, It will take another post or two for my story to finally tie in to your festival as I explain how Braxen deduced the band was in Two Rivers))

[Jehaine]

OOC: Hi hi, the more the merrier i'd say. Though you might want to keep this thread separate from your intro just in case people are ICly not too hapy at watching you head for their base ^^;

 

IC:

 

"Hi Saira! You should try the beef. It's amazing! Are you having fun?"

 

Hearing her name, Saira looked around trying to spot where the voice had come from amongst the various groups of people all talking to one another, before spotting Heather. The woman's height made it almost impossible to mistake her for anyone else, even though she had only shared a few training sesions with her at best. Still, she was getting used to the Band now, and names were coming easier now that she'd had some experience remembering them.

 

- "What? Oh thanks, i will. Heh, i'm okay i guess, only the merchant in me can't help but wonder how much this all costs. But enough about hopeless little me, how're you?"

 

She chuckled apologetically as she made her reply. Of course, trying to make an estimate of the overhead costs of hiring the Band to liberate the Borderlands was easier said than done, much less actually raising the funds on her own, but until she'd manage to convince the higher-ups that marching North would be a good thing, she'd need to consider the alternatives should they refuse. Among which, hiring the Band herself and simply ordering them to head North by contract.

 

That was, of course, one of the main reasons for her to divert the topic off of her. The situation in the Borderlands troubled her, but this was supposed to be a Festival and she didn't want to bring down the mood with her worries. That, and she didn't want her alternattives to become common knowledge until (and if) she'd be required to use them.

 

 

Saira

So far, so good.

[Liitha]

ooc also make sure to have someone find you and bring you in, its against the rules http://forums.dragonmount.com/index.php/topic,717.0.html to stumble upon the citadel, its to well hidden and guarded.

 

Aslan looked through the basket, he thougth he had everything, smoked meat, roasted nuts, honey, fresh bread and spices, yes it was all there along with wine. He looked to the mirror, he was all set to go, his coat was neat and freshly cleaned, and his pins was shining. He walked outside, leting Saidin sink into him he checked that his weaves was still set, it wouldnt do for the dome made of air to fail, nor that the temperature sunk, it would be leathal to his harvest,once satisfied they still would hold he turned around towards his traveling corner. With focus he slowly wove the treads for the gateway, it was becoming almost second nature now to travel into the citadel, though the taint always set his mood back some, the foul taste of it, hopefully the festiveties would remove it soon enough. Aslan steped through the gate and let it fall behind him as he entered the section of the citadel occupied by his brethren.

 

He looked up happy to see that even with the snow the sky was still clear, and he hastily let go of saidin, it felt like a loss as everything grew more dim, but it was still a relif to be released from the foulness, and he reached for the bottle at his hip, siping the rum he let it wash away the bad taste. He stoped by his room to drop of his bag of things as he intended to stay a few days before going back to his hut. Grabing a candle and ligthing it with flint he made his way towards the music and merryness.

 

As he entered the crowd he started looking for a place he could sit down and find some conversation. After a while he spoted a table with some empty seats and headed towards it to ask if he could join them.

 

 

Aslan

Asha'man stationed with the band

 

 

[Tigara]

Had she been more observant, Heather would have noticed that Saira was uncomfortable. However, she was just slightly 'blonde' and did not notice these things.

 

"What? Oh thanks, i will. Heh, i'm okay i guess, only the merchant in me can't help but wonder how much this all costs. But enough about hopeless little me, how're you?"

 

Heather just smiled as she replied. "That's great! I'm doing super. I love festivals and this one is really great!" She looked around the room and suddenly perked up. "C'mon Saira, let's go find some men to dance with!" She grabbed the girl's arm and pulled her onto the dance floor.

 

Heather al'Morris

Blonde

 

[Jehaine]

Saira smiled at the girls enthousiasm, wishing she could share the feeling of being carefree that seemed to radiate off of the girl. It really had been too long since she had felt the same way, and truth be said she was feeling a little homesick so she just grinned back in response.

 

That was, of course, until the girl reached for her arm, dragging her along as she darted off towards another part of the large room they were all gathered in.

 

"C'mon Saira, let's go find some men to dance with!"

 

- "EH?!?"

 

Not really knowing what to do, she just let herself be led along, matching her pace with Heather's to avoid losing her balance. She didn't know what the other girl had in mind, but for now she'd just go with the proverbial flow and see where she'd end up at. After all, what was the worst that could happen?

 

 

Saira

Probably just jinxed it ;)