RP:A Dance of Gold and Silver

Snowless Training Yard

Osecreth found that climbing atop a wyvern and riding somewhere was refreshing, though the creature gave him odd looks. He could smell it, he supposed. He only gave it a friendly smile, and some nice pats, and bought an extra hunk of meat to toss the creature in a gesture of friendship. Once he'd made his way towards the temple of Aramoth, he paused to consider. He did worship Arkhen, and wondered if a place of Aramoth's ilk would welcome him with open arms. Still. He would meet Hildegarde the Silver, whether he had aught to learn from this warrior's guild, or not. The nearly seven foot tall man strode in golden armor, with an obscenely large golden greatsword upon his back, towards the middle of the training yard, taking in the sights, and yet again giving thanks in prayer for his Endure Elements spell. Arkhen knew, he'd not fare well in such cold without it. He was here to learn of the ways of war, and to meet the silver, and would say as much to anyone who might ask his purpose of him.

Hildegarde was a well-respected member of Frostmawian society, meaning when people began to ask questions about her she would hear of it one way or another. As the wyvern landed, the knight did not yet turn her attention to the stranger: continuing instead to patrol up and down the four rectangular areas, divided by pure white marble and peering at the warriors who trained there. The woman saw no need to interrupt any pair but one, a lad bearing a shield and sword fighting against a lass with axe and sword. The woman crossed over into their rectangular training patch, suddenly engulfed by searing and uncomfortable heat yet she does her best to remain composed and as if it doesn’t bother her much. “Stop battering the shield. You will waste your precious energy,” she instructed kindly yet firmly, “may I?” she asked, swapping her halberd for the axe and sword and carefully stepping up to take her place. “Battering this shield for so long will do you no good,” she explained, “instead, you use the weapon to its full extent,” swinging the axe forward to catch the edge of the shield and tug it down, so the sword might slide forward and hover just before the lad’s throat. “A quick end,” she said softly, “or you can surprise them even more: axe upside down, tug the shield up and swing for their leg,” she explained before stepping back and returning the axe and sword for her own halberd. Lesson taught she would exit the rectangle and wipe her brow clear of sweat, finally turning her attention to Osecreth, “Greetings, stranger.”

Osecreth had the honor of watching the Silver at work before he met her. She instructed a young lady in the use of an axe and blade against a shielded target... with commendable strategies. He had little doubt the girl would fare better against the lad now. When Hildegarde exited the white marble rectangle and regarded him, he smiled. She had many a scar... proof that the valor so highly spoken of wasn't simply bluster. "Well met, Hildegarde the Silver. I am Osecreth. I've come to make your acquaintance, to perhaps engage in some fine conversation, and above all else, to test my mettle at your temple to Aramoth. Though I serve Arkhen, your Warrior's Guild intrigues, and should you permit me to your ranks, I would serve faithfully in my full capacity as a paladin to your order." He had the grace and easy confidence of a dragon, assuredly, but he also bore a genuine and benevolent nature. His voice, a deep baritone, rumbled with warmth, and vigor, though he looked to be in his early forties. "This place is a marvel to behold... as are you, Hildegarde. I am not so practiced with this blade on my back to think I could match your halberd with it, but I yearn to try."

Hildegarde dipped her head in reply to the greeting, “Osecreth,” she repeated the name before offering a friendly smile, “I assume you are the one who has been asking around about me…? I had a very worried giant come to me and tell me that a tall stranger was asking about my name and my city,” but it didn’t appear to bother her or make her suspicious of the man. From the stench of him, she could tell that he was similar to her. Not quite a Silver, but definitely of the Saurian line. “Ahh, this is no temple,” she said politely, “only an Academy to teach those who wish to learn. But there is only marvel here and that is the Academy,” her words were modest. Not a sort of false modesty used to win people over, but a genuine modesty and humble nature. “To join the guild you must pay a fee of five hundred gold coins and face against me in combat, so I may judge your skill. The fee itself will cover your use of the amenities here at the Academy and any bed and board you require here in Frostmaw, if you choose to stay.” All this time, the knight had continued to walk closer to the Paladin, so she need not shout across the training field to speak to him. Much better to talk politely.

Osecreth had a broad grin across his features by the time Hildegarde had finished talking. "A dragon, and a renowned warrior, who would have thought the mighty Hildegarde the Silver would be so modest!" His tone wasn't mocking, but appreciative. "I held your name in high esteem before, Hildegarde the Silver, but now I am in awe of you! I will pay you these five hundred coins, and welcome single combat." He was glad this wasn't a temple, as that eradicated any worry of upsetting his divinity, and would hand over a pouch of coin pre counted for this very purpose. "A question, before we begin." He'd unbuckle the greatsword from his back, and plant the tip in the ground before him, hand upon the long hilt. "What say you a bet, on our little spar? If you yield, come to dine with me. If I yield, you may name your prize." His smile was easy going, and it was a well intentioned suggestion... though it almost seemed as though he'd thought of this beforehand.

Hildegarde laughed heartily at his remarks, “You are far too kind, m’lord,” she said quite politely and with an evidently amused smile, “but truly, I am not worth any kind of renown nor should you believe everything you hear,” after all, rumours circulated around Frostmaw that Hilde was the spawn of Aramoth herself. As the tip of the greatsword planted into the ground, her sole eye wandered up its length: examining the weapon with evident interest and an assessing mind. “Oh, I’m not much of a betting woman,” she said with a little shrug of the shoulder, “I cannot even think of a prize I would ask of you! But I shall try to think of something while we dance,” she said rather politely.

Osecreth slammed a fist against his chest. "Very well. Let this dance commence!" He'd heft his greatsword, settling into a guarded stance, while he weaved a spell with his fingers, speaking a divine prayer. It seemed he'd start this warrior's test with one of his favored weapons... a paladin's blessing. When he finished, it proved to be a spell of Sun Metal, and his greatsword burst into flames, as he held it between himself and Hildegarde, ready to engage her. He was not the martial artist she was... but his magic might make the difference. He certainly had his heart set on dinner. "Tell me, Hildegarde. Are you an ale, or mead woman? Perhaps you enjoy wine? I'd wager on ale, myself."

Hildegarde had been burned before if the mottled flesh of her jaw if anything to go by and the slight widening of her sole eye at the very sight of those flames. Yet she had spent enough time around paladins to understand that this enchantment was a holy one, perhaps not quite so easily extinguished by the cold or ice. “I do not imbibe beverages that alter the mind,” she informed him politely, “but I see no reason to let that stop other people!” Her sole eye flicked from his guarded stance to the hefted up blade, “I have not seen many people wield a greatsword,” she said softly. Their weapons both had reach, so stepping back would give either one the ground to fight: by staying close they would not have quite as much room as either might like to strike freely at one another. The woman had no idea how much combat this paladin had seen in his life, but she assumed he had a system of honour like most knights and paladins did. With the spear like tip of her halberd, the knight pressed it against the greatsword and moved her arms in a counter-clockwise manner, to perhaps throw the paladin off balance before she threw herself physically at him to topple him over and forcefully exhale the paralytic gas her kind were known for in his face or at least near him: if she could not numb him entirely, she would at least make him sluggish and slow.

Osecreth could fight and fight well as a dragon. As a human, what he had was mostly for show. He did not expect her to barrel to into him, to use bodily force at such a close range against his taller, broader form... as a dragon, that would have been a foolhardy tactic. But they weren't dragons, not in this fight. Her strength was a surprise to him, though it shouldn't have been... even for his size, he was stronger than any man to wield such a sword, and likely stronger yet than she. That didn't matter, though, when she knew how to use her strength, and he did not. She shoved him before he could poise his blade to intercept, or move his feet to brace himself, and he stumbled. She exhaled, and the paralytic gas hit him, as he staggered away to gain distance, brandishing his blade before him, and sweeping it to keep her at bay. He could feel his limbs stiffen, and his dumb smile was almost paralyzed into place on his face. "I should have known to expect no less!" He'd be hardly able to respond to her movements as he was... but was unwilling to resort to blowing a bellyful of fire into her face. He did, in fact, have the honor she assumed. He did, though, approve of a different tactic. Should he catch her blade against his once more, and he kept himself poised to match blade to halbred, he'd touch it as quickly as he could, that it too would burst into flame... even down to the haft where she held it. He could do that much, though he didn't trust his footwork anymore.

Hildegarde only stepped forward when he staggered away to gain some distance. There was no need to give him room, no need to let him swing that greatsword at her. Instead, as the blade swept in her direction to slow her approach and her halberd did predictably catch against it to parry the swing to the side and harmlessly away from her armour and flesh, the polearm burst into flame. If she were still new to fighting, she might have screamed and tossed the weapon away but she had fought against Svilfon: an avid lover of flame and fire, whose fury burned bright like a flame itself; he had made the knight run through magical walls of fire and flesh eating magic just so she could get close to him. So it is with dogged determination, she advances upon him and grips the halberd all the tighter: spear tip of the halberd darting forward as if to pierce his eye, before retracting suddenly so the length of the weapon might sweep against his now untrustworthy legs and floor him; the knight did not often use feints in combat.

Osecreth found that he was able to light her weapon, but it didn't have the desired effect. She doggedly held onto it, which miffed him a bit. If she got horribly burnt from holding onto the weapon for a prolonged period, he'd feel more than a little responsible. Still, he couldn't help but admire her. Her feint caught him off guard completely. He was sluggish enough to respond to it that she could have probably taken his eye before he finished reacting, stiffened as his movements were, and when she pulled out of the feint and swept him off his feet, he found himself on his ass, prone. At least when it happened, he was laughing heartily. "Should have known, indeed. This is my first time wielding a blade. Hildegarde, you have handily defeated me. The victory is yours. I yield." He'd love to continue fighting, but honestly, he'd only embarass himself, and learn little more from it. He'd rise to a stand, planting that sword again. "I have much to learn, and you to thank for showing me just how much. Ah, and there was the matter of our little bargain. Your victory means you may claim what spoils you see fit. I will however, ask again for the chance to dine with you." He was a jovial man, it seemed. Humble in victory, graceful in defeat, even though he'd yielded from on his ass.

Hildegarde swishes the halberd around for a few moments before expelling her frosty breath along its length to quell the flames that engulfed it. Holding onto the weapon with one hand, she extends her other hand to Osecreth to help him rise to his feet. Fortunately, her arm was covered in armour and he could not quite see the way the flesh quivered from the sheer pain the flames had caused. Indeed, she couldn’t even let go of the halberd, for she was certain her burnt flesh would surely stick and rip to the shaft of her weapon. “Everyone has much to learn, there is no master of combat in this realm,” she said gently, “and there is never any shame in defeat. Your sword is large, but you have the strength to lift it. Though with its size and weight, it will be slow to swing. You must think of how you can fight under those limits,” she said politely, partly to be informative and partly to take her mind off of her own hand. As he speaks of their bargain, she chortles, “I was so distracted by our fight that I had no time to think of my end to our wager! Yet you and I are alike, we both have hearty appetites. So, given your efforts and grace in defeat, you are the real winner here, m’lord.”

Osecreth was taken aback a moment, as she helped him to his feet, before he burst into laughter again. "I will take those words to heart. It is true, this blade swings slower than I would like, but I do enjoy its power. And there may be no master of combat, but you I will gladly call 'master' in such affairs." If he noticed her pain and discomfort, he made no sign of it. If she hid her pain in pride, he would not wound that pride by prying. "So a yes, then? If you would dine with me, then your words are true, and surely I am the victor! I can think of no better way to celebrate new friendship, and the gift of knowledge you have bestowed upon me. The knowledge that I have found a new way to grow." There was something wistful in those words, as though they held a deep meaning to the man. "Perhaps I should aspire to your grace and humility, Hildegarde the Silver." He'd buckle his greatsword to his back, once the flames of the blade had died out, and would walk alongside her, should she be willing to have him.

Hildegarde made no mention of her hand immediately out of a sense of politeness, rather than pride. She was not so proud as to refuse help or to ignore a wound, but she would not necessarily squeal and wave it around and make her foe feel bad about what had happened. The Silver offered a little nod, “Yes. A good meal is always welcomed after a fight!” she said with a little smile, “But will you excuse me for a moment? I, ah, must deal with my hand,” she said, before turning and swiftly making her into the Academy where the halberd might be peeled from her grasp and the wound at least cleaned and wrapped by the resident shaman of the Academy. With her hand tended to, the knight would return to the paladin’s company and offer him a smile. “Grace and humility? Oh, I’m sure that’s something every righteous warrior has,” she waved off the potential compliment. “The tavern is Frostmaw’s only real hotspot for food and ale. Or mead, or wine, if that is what you drink.”

Osecreth would take note of her hands, as she went to tend to them. When she came back, he'd offer his services. "I am a paladin, m'lady Hildegarde. If you wish it, I can heal your wounds through the grace of Arkhen's divinity." Her next words would grip him, though. "Then to the tavern it is! If I have heard correctly, much of it is of a size to accomodate giants. I wish to witness this tavern!" Her humility was incredible, to him. That a dragon knew such humility was nothing short of a wonder to the gold. He was humble in his own right, but knew a dragon's pride as well. Hildegarde was... well. He liked it about her. "Wine, for me. I used to keep the company of elves, and they brought me wines of such vintage that I grew overly fond of them, and overly fat, once upon a time. Still, I have a taste for wine, and doubt I will find it colder anywhere else in the world." And oh, did he have an appetite! "I've half a mind to eat a horse. Perhaps three." He'd never eaten in his human form before, either. It was going to be quite the new experience.

Hildegarde raised her now wrapped hand to politely dismiss his offer, “There is no need, m’lord, I have seen and experienced the healing of a paladin before and it is not to my liking. What pain I bear, is mine to bear. I would not like to see another ache on my behalf, no matter how quickly their god might heal them,” she explained politely and with an appreciative smile. It was evident she was grateful for the offer, even though she would not accept it. “Yes, you are right in thinking that! The tavern is built for giants, but it has seen much business from those of smaller stature,” that said, she gestured to the wyvern. “This fine, if a little fat, member of the Eyrie will take you just outside the tavern.”

Osecreth nodded. "Another ache on your behalf? How strange. It would be burden to me to give you healing, but I will not press an offer refused." He looked to the wyvern, as she spoke of it. "Yes, this one is quite reliable. Brought me here, in fact." They might be getting well aquainted, as he learned to live in this human form. He'd go to mount, looking back to Hildegarde. "You are coming as well, correct? I would be a lonesome soul, dining by myself. It would give me far too much time for pining." He always enjoyed good company, after all. He'd spent enough of his long life in quiet contemplation, and wanted to experience the wonders of the world.

Hildegarde offered a nod, “I will join you, yes, but I will not burden our friend here by forcing him to carry two armoured warriors,” she said with a smile to the wyvern. “You can go ahead and find warmth in the tavern, as well as pick out a suitable wine,” not that she would imagine there would be many options in a warrior culture.

Osecreth acquiesced. "Very well! I will await your arrival, eagerly." He'd mount up, and be off, fading into the distance. It wasn't as good as flying, but refreshing in its own right to ride a wyvern. A wyvern who still gave the dragon odd looks.

Hildegarde would wait for the return of the wyvern before likewise mounting the beast and flying off towards Frostmaw’s tavern. Offering the beast a little scratch under the chin, she motioned for him to wander south towards the Eyrie’s outpost so he could have a little rest and have another wyvern take his place for the evening. With the wyvern seen to, the knight would enter the establishment and make her way over to Osecreth. “I trust you have found something to your liking?”

Osecreth would be grinning as Hildegarde arrived. "Oh, yes. No wine to speak of, but I do find the Frostmaw Ale quite to my liking. Well worth the price! And they make it in such quantities that giants might enjoy it!" He looked towards the giants in the room with some amusement. "I would be wise not to partake of an eating contest, here. Tell me! What will you have. I'll pay, it's the least I can do. I think I'm going to indulge in some boar, myself." He was eying a spitroast hungrily. He'd probably take down a haunch alone, easily, even in human form.

Hildegarde laughed heartily at his remark, “The ale is a popular choice here in Frostmaw, though the warming ale is most popular amongst those who are not quite accustomed to the cold climate of our city,” she explained politely. “But yes, I’ll have some boar! It looks delicious,” and while she could probably eat the whole thing and still hunger for more, she was never quite so out of control of her appetite to do as much. “Shall we sit?” she gestured to a table near the hearth, so the paladin wouldn’t be quite as chilled in this city.

Osecreth would take a seat, and order the boar, which was torn from the beast, and given to them within short order. He would tear into his own haunch hungrily, looking bewildered as he chewed. It was a completely different set of teeth, and many of them made for different purposes than he was used to. He actually had to chew his food, and couldn't swallow it in huge chunks. In its own way, it was actually more enjoyable. He'd always enjoyed his meat cooked, however, and found that not to be new... though quite welcome. "Frostmaw knows how to season a boar!" He wasn't sure what they'd used, but it had quite a kick to it.

Hildegarde was long accustomed to eating in this form by now, so she chews her leg of boar with a certain air of confidence if it can be described as such. The Silver smiled as he praised the food, offering a little nod in the direction of Drargon, the fearsome bartender and owner of the fine establishment: “Whatever it is, I think it’ll be a secret which Drargon takes to his grave!”

Osecreth guffawed at that. "More's the pity! A legend will die, on that dreaded day!" It really was great boar. Chewing had a lot of merit to it... he could savor the dry, roasted outside, the succulent, juicy morsels of meat within, under that seared surface. When he tried to chomp on the bone, he thankfully stopped before cracking his teeth. The haunch had been huge, and when he had finished eating, he felt... not quite full. He had a smaller stomach, but still a huge appetite, it appeared. He'd turn his attention to conversation, though, rather than eating a second course. "Tell me of Frostmaw, Hildegarde. In your own words. This is an extraordinary land, and I've so much left to explore of it. And the tales of its leaders! Wild, they are. Are they true?" Oh, but what have you heard, Osecreth? Many outlandish tales, for sure.

Hildegarde, having finished off her leg of boar, was quick to deposit the bone upon the plate and push it forward ever so slightly to indicate she was finished with it. Lifting a napkin, she politely wiped her greasy fingers on the fabric before keeping a hold of the napkin. “Frostmaw… It is a beautiful and large land. It is wild and natural in the west, while civilisation reigns supreme here in the perimeter of the city itself. But many an adventurer come seeking fame and fortune here: beasts aplenty to hunt in the west, deeds and misdeeds to gain renown… It is a land of opportunity,” she summarised with evident pride and love for the land. “As for its leaders…” she smiled ever so slightly, “Well… I’m curious as to what you have heard! You say they are wild but I do not believe I seem wild, do I?”

Osecreth shook his head. "The rumors of your grace and might are not misplaced. However, I have heard far more outlandish tales about this Satoshi, and her lover. Kitsune, vampire, elemental. Frost singer, archmagus! And of him, a revenant, the leader of Vailkrin, no less. With... strange ears. There are many odd accounting's, and I know not what to believe. I have explored a bit into the west, found many a powerful beast out there. I will hone my skills there, assuredly, though I am pressed to aid the elves in this, their time of need. My blade may not serve so well as I had hoped, but with tooth and claw, perhaps I can do more for them, as they have done for me in times past." He shook his head. Back on topic, fool! "Your description of the land is beautiful. You much hold Frostmaw close to your heart of hearts."

Hildegarde offered a smile, spreading her hands out in an open gesture, “Many have heard outlandish tales of the Queen,” she said softly. “Some have called her the Ice Witch, the Queen of Ice, Magister Glacies,” she elaborated before shrugging her shoulder, “Kasyr… I cannot say much of him, he and I have only ever spoken once or twice. But Satoshi has a wanderlust. She is often roaming the lands in search of knowledge or ingredients for her magic, leaving the care and running of Frostmaw in my hands.” The Silver offered him a near sympathetic smile as he brought up the topic of elves and their plight against the drow. It was a topic of discussion here in Frostmaw, often getting a mixed reaction at best. “While Frostmaw does not go beyond offering refuge and sanctuary to the elves and drow alike, I cannot stop others from going to the aid of the elves. I only wish it did not come to war, but it appears that this is no longer preventable… In any case, I hope the casualties are kept to a minimum,” in truth, she wished the elves had sought a more peaceful path but such a thing is difficult when facing up to such an antagonistic foe. Fortunately, the topic has shifted back to Frostmaw. “Yes, I do. Frostmaw is my home now and… well, the people have entrusted much upon me and have accepted me as one of their own. I am, I suppose, grateful for their love and return it tenfold.”

Osecreth sensed that the topic of the elven plight was a complicated one, here. He felt a wish to dig deeper, but also noted that she was glad when the topic shifted away. The world could be a complicated place, though he was compelled to aid the elves as they were old friends of his. He found himself hoping much the same as her... peaceful resolution would be best, minimal casualties good, and the likeliness of either was far too little. "I do so enjoy the way you speak of Frostmaw, and sense the truth of your words. Your heart is one for loving! Frostmaw appreciates your loyalty, I'm sure." Who wouldn't? Hildegarde had made a hell of an impression on the gold, thus far. He thought very highly of her. As had that boar. He'd be sure to revisit this tavern, in the future. "I think I will spend my days practicing in your academy, from here on out, until I have found some level of mastery of this blade. I would like to study in commanding, as well, since your academy teaches all of the ways of war. Next time we spar, perhaps I will make a better showing. I do so look forward to it!"

Hildegarde smiled at his remarks of loyalty and how Frostmaw must surely appreciate her loyalty to the land, “I appreciate my people and this land,” she said in reply, knowing in her heart that that was enough for her. “Well, you are more than welcome to spend your time at the Academy and use its amenities in full; you have after all covered the cost of such,” she said with a friendly smile. The Silver offered Osecreth a broad grin as he mentioned the spar, “We shall see, won’t we? Once you spar with someone, you have an idea of how they fight. So perhaps we will both be prepared for one another. Yet on that note, I ought to go. I have duties to attend to and the City of War waits for none!” she said, rising from her seat. “Thank you, for the meal and the fight. I am sure we will meet again soon.”

Osecreth rose, and nodded. "My thanks, for the fine company, and the gift of learning. Be well, and walk in light, Hildegarde." He'd be brief, to let her return to her duties.