RP:A Giant Ally to the Monarchy

Part of the Larketian Fault Lines Arc

Summary: Oline is smashing pipsqueaks left and right at the Towering Tenements, for fun and coin. Xzavior happens to be passing through and makes her acquaitance. Shortly after the Queen arrives along with her usual royal entourage. She has come to meet with Harold and other residents to negotiate upgrades and better blueprints for the Tenement's reconstruction which is to begin soon. Tychus (NPC, link to him on wiki!) and his allies caught wind of the Queen's arrival with enough time to stage a public heckling. They criticize the Royals openly, and Xzavior whispers to Josleen that she is a traitor to her people. Oline, however, defends King Macon and Queen Josleen and literally shakes up a heckler and scolds them. Impressed with her patriotism, Josleen offers Oline enrollment in Larket's military school.

Towering Tenements

Oline was fighting. Perhaps fighting was too generous a word for it... Oline was walloping mercilessly. Clad in only a bear-pelt loincloth hanging loosely upon her hips, the giantess ducked and dodged the swings of a much smaller man deftly A ring of homeless tent-dwellers, refugees in their own city, was gathered around in the midst of the tents and squalor to watch as the Giantess of Larket and a surly-looking chap by the name of Kallob. He'd been the building manager of one of the tenements, back when people were inhabiting them, with a reputation for taking care of troublemakers. Against a girl with twice his armspan and enough muscle to kick his skull off of his body, he wasn't faring so well. Oline was fast... much faster than anyone ever expected someone of her size to be. She was tall and wiry and nimble, dodging a wild haymaker thrown at her gut and reciprocating with an uppercut that knocked Kallob clear out of the ring and certainly out of consciousness. Cheers erupted from the crowd, and coin was passed around, but Oline was busy walking over to help her downed opponent up off the ground. He looked none-too-pleased as she slapped him awake from his stupor and pulled him up... storming off in the opposite direction in a flurry of vulgarity and obscene hand-gestures. Oline sighed, and turned back to the group to collect her take from the battle.

Xzavior was making his way around to see what all needed to be done one last time before he preoccupied his time with Frostmaw and the likes. He's found he was going to be very much needed up there, if just for an extra pair of hands. Everything in Larket seemed to be calming down, all that was left being reconstruction, but in other places, more events were arising that he couldn't at all ignore. Nor the sudden and loud cheering he heard down the roads towards the tenements. Making his way over, he watched as the giant knocked the other out of the ring and gave a tilt of his head as he watched her move away with a sigh. Coming after her, he was actually curious at meeting the person Valen was willing to call his daughter. That and he'd be fighting along side her at some point. So why not meet her now eh? "Hey! Oline right?" He called after her, cutting through the crowd

Josleen hasn’t been to the Towering Tenements since that embarrassing fiasco with Pilar. The King and Queen had come to distribute charitable goods and point and wave to lift spirits. Like most monarchs, they assume their presence is a gift, and few subjects (aka everyone else) would dare challenge that assumption. But that day, Pilar was among those few who dared challenge the Crown, and she publicly criticized the recovery effort which had prioritized the construction of a manor for Macon’s mother (yes, a mansion for one old crone) over the reconstruction of this very tenement. It’s brave of the Queen to visit the Tenements now, but in fact the Hard City is ready to begin the Tenement’s reconstruction, and she and Macon decided they should take a visible public role in the project. She had planned to come with the King, but he was called away last minute by a more urgent matter of law and order. Instead of cancelling, Josleen made the appointment without him. It’s a simple task: meet with Harold and a few of the older residents and heads of households to negotiate improvements on the old blueprints. More modern kitchens? Better window insulation? A communal space for children? Etc. Her entourage consists of 5 royal guards, and a personal assistant. The arrival of the Royal convoy cleaves the brawl’s audience in two. Some stay to watch the next fight, while others peel away to watch the spectacle of royalty. Over the heads of the Larketians Josleen spots the Giantess of Larket, whom she has seen once before and has had some rumor about, none of it bad. She blushes at the sight of the loincloth. Near Oline is Xzavior, and Josleen scowls reflexively. That jerk. What is he doing here? Her entourage skirts near the pair and Josleen stops to address the giantess loudly, for the benefit of all to hear the Queen’s purpose here, and witness her interaction with a local sparring champion. “Congratulations on your fight. Do you live here? If so, perhaps you should join Harold and I in discussing improvements to be made to the tenements during its reconstruction. I’m here to ensure the new housing suits all of its residents’ needs.” It’s clear she’s performing a little PR and Oline is a congenial prop to that end. Xzavior is glanced at coolly.

Oline 's round, befreckled cheeks reddened sharply. She'd seen the Queen of Larket in passing perhaps once, if one counted a mere glimpse of the woman departing from the scene. It was hardly strange at all that one should notice the arrival of their Queen... but it startled Oline deeply when her Queen took notice of her. If she takes any offense to being a public relations too, it certainly show in her bright toothy grin or the bowing of her head. "Yer hah-ness..." she practically spat the words out. Her mouth suddenly felt like lead. "Yes'm... Thenk yeh, ma'am." Her wide, steely eyes would quickly shift over to Xzavior and offer him, and Josleen, an introduction. "M'nemm iz Oline, en Ah live attha' Kademee with Mastuh Valen. Ah... guess 'eez godda habit o'doptin orfenz 'n misfits... but Ah dun mahnd." She turned around to look at the ruinous tenements and the tents built up around them sadly. "Ah... wuz thenkin've trynna live'er... affore th'quake... but Ah did'n 'ave th'Money back then. Izz'a shemm whuddappen't, but Ah'm glad t'hear yer comin' threw t'fixxidup fahn'ly." Unlike, apparently, many of the folks around town... she didn't take any particular offense at the idea of the royal family looking after themselves first. "Ah'd be 'appy t'help in enny way Ah kin... whettuh y'wan me to talk 'bowt 'provements r'haulin' stuffs. Lah-ket's m'home now. Juss point me inna d'reckshun."

Xzavior turned when he had heard the queen come and instantly let out a patient sigh. Gods he'd need to keep that mindset right about now. He just knew it. Not regarding her in much of any way, as much as he knew he'd probably receive backlash for, he looked onto Oline for a moment and offered a nod and a smile. "Well Oline, I don't know exactly how much you know about me besides what you must have heard from Valen, but the name's Xzavior. A pleasure to get a chance to meet you." Offering her a slight bow he still refrained from looking towards the queen. As subtly as he could of course. Had he known of the selfish act that the royalty would be committing, he would be the second, and loudest voice to object. Whether he liked people here or not, if their rulers were terrible people, well one at least, he doubted he'd be staying long.

Josleen is more than pleased that Oline is receptive and reacting positively to her mission here. It’s always a risk the Royals take when they approach an unknown citizen. There are a few who are critical, and you never know what you’ll get. “Professor Valen has a generous heart, though I am sure you must be quite a remarkable young lady to have earned his favor nonetheless.” As Thane of Frostmaw, Josleen is quite accustomed to giants and can gauge their age easily and is comfortable with the difference in height and build. Her smile shifts from public-relations-veneer to genuinely warm as Oline offers to help because Larket is her home now. “I can definitely see why Valen likes you.” Xzavior also mentions Valen and Josleen remembers a recent fact she learned: Valen and Xzavior were once a couple. Recalling Macon’s flabbergasted expression when she passed on the gossip (vampire and a naga entangled in carnal relations?!), she laughs into the back of her hand. “Well, I should go meet with--” She cuts off by a heckler, a young woman at the back of the crowd, the Queen’s six o’clock. “False Queen!” A young man on the opposite side of the crowd shouts, Josleen’s 12 o’clock, “Building mansions for mummy dearest first!” From her 3 o’clock, “Eating shark meat for breakfast while we fight for gruel!” From her 9 o’clock, “Shacking up with the king in fancy hotels while our children starve in tents!” The taunts are too perfectly coordinated to be spontaneous. Some underground organization staged this as soon as they realized were the Queen was going. She purses her lips and presses ahead to meet with Harold.

Oline rounded on the hecklers with a snarl on her lips. "Ah'n so th'sod whut?!" She knew. She'd heard the same rumblings and grumblings. "Lahk enny-soddin'wunnuvyeh wuz gunna lift a finguh t'help sum'n affore yeh help't yer own fam'lies!" she hollered, a foot thunping down hard enough to create it's own miniature quake. "Ah wuz 'omeless wenn'Ah got'ere... which wunnuv'yeh offuh'd t'teck ME in?" Her expression was once again that of the brawler. "Idden't abowt me fuhst! Idden't abow't shahk meets! En iffidiz foh you, yer in foh a rude 'wakenin. Lahf en't fayuh. Ah'm 'ere earnin' munny t'help fix yer gawdsdamn howzes up, enn'ere you lot are bitchin' abowd whutch'a en't got astead'a trynna fixit!" The giantess plowed her way to the back of the crowd and hoisted up the young woman by her raggedy clothes. She held her up with one hand, reached over onto a bench, and picked up a hammer with the other. Thrusting it into the woman's hand, she put her down on the ground and pointed to the tenaments with a snarl. "Yeh wanna c'mere... yeh wanna meck evrywun's lahf a liddal worse... y'wanna bitch 'n whahn 'bowt how unfayuh iddall iz? Pick'up tha' 'ammer 'n go fix sumthin. THEN yeh gidda c'mplayuhn affronna me. Tha' goes fer ulluvyou... 'less y'thenk y'kin teck me inna fite!"

Xzavior would watch the hecklers start making their assault on the queen and cross his arms. Listening to what they said. Looking to Oline for a moment he watched her as she went to thrust the hammer into her hand and could only shake his head. Whether it be true or not, what Oline was fighting for, she thought was right. However, Xzavior saw the queen in a far more shameful light. And the queen persisted on keeping herself firmly planted there. "I guess I'll talk to you later then Oline." With a parting wave, whether she saw it or not. Xzavior passed by the queen. Finally taking the time to look at her, as evenly as he could, and as he went murmured, "Not a false queen, but a betrayer of her people." He remembered her being the thane of Frostmaw. He heard how she came to be queen. She should be glad Xzavior doesn't take things to a more extreme. No one should leave their city after going to war. Especially to the one they fought.

Josleen watches Oline defend her with muted pleasure. When Oline grabs the woman, the Queen lurches forward to intervene, to prevent violence, but no violence comes, and so she stays quiet. The woman looks a bit shook up after being manhandled by a literal giant, and good, she should be shaken. This is what happens when the gnats pester the Good Larketians. The majority is with the Royal Couple, and it encourages Josleen to witness Oline’s loyalty and support--which will surely be repaid, as will Xzavior’s critique. She glares at Xzavior as he leaves. Her marriage to King Macon helped broker the peace under which they live now, but opinions are cheap and criticisms easy, and one of the few salves commonfolk can apply to their grievances. Hungry? Blame the Crown. Restless? Blame the Crown. “Miss Oline,” Josleen says once there is a lull in the shouting. “Will you accompany me?” The woman Oline targeted rediscovers her nerve and shouts after the giant, “Yea, go ya lapdog! Go beg for scraps from your master!”

Oline gave the woman a stern glare and snorted, pivoting back towards Josleen and her entourage. Her last words to the rabble-rousers were a curt: "Ah en't hearin' ennee 'ammers fallin. Guess yer nawt all tha' int'restid inna bedduh Lah-ket afftuh all." And then her attention belonged entirely to the Queen. She fell in line with the group, though off to the side a little so as not to cause any obstruction in their pace. She had to adjust her own gait, thanks to those long legs of hers, in order to not simply reach whatever place she was going before smaller folk. That seemed like it would have been doubly rude when dealing with a member of Royalty. "Ah'm sorreh 'bowt th'owtburst..." she offered sheepishly, cheeks red again. "Ah hope Ah didn' meck thengs enny wurss."

Josleen shakes her head at the apology. “You have nothing to apologize for. Indeed, I should be thanking you for saying what I could not. You would think that as Queen I could say whatever I want, but it isn’t true.” She sighs softly. “Are you training to be a mage? You seem like a capable fighter. Normally warriors about your age are enrolled in the fort military school, but perhaps that’s not in your interests. I only bring it up because you seem to have a passion for Larket.” Harold bows to the Queen as she arrives and Josleen nods to release him of his bow. She signals for him to wait as she finishes up with Oline. “If that’s the sort of thing that interests you, I could inquire as to what you’d need to do to enroll.” Aka open the door for Oline who can then waltz right in.

Oline offered a comisserating from at Josleen's words and nodded. "Ah kin 'magine tha' must be 'ard. Ah kin 'ardly keep mah mouth shut fer a cuppl'a minnets when sumthin' rilla pisses me off." She spoke with confident candor, despite the faintly tingly tremble in her knees. "Ah... en't rilla got no magickal puhtenshull. Ah'm juss studyin' it cuz Ah know izzimpohtunt t'know whutcher gowehn uppagenst. Majishunz iz scurry iffin' yeh en't pruhpared." Then came that offer, and the color drained away from her face. "Y'min... Lahk...Ah'd be trenn'n t'be a soljuh foh Lah-ket? Accourse Ah'd b'int'rstid!"

Josleen smiles broadly when Oline accepts the offer. “I was hoping you’d say that.” Josleen is not yet sly enough to recruit soldiers young for the express purpose of fomenting national pride, aka jingoism which keeps the monarchy in power. And yet nonetheless she haphazardly stumbles her way to that sweet spot of youthful recruitment that keep kingdoms tightly woven. Convince them young. Nurture and clothe and feed and their loyalty will be earned. She’s too young a Queen to think in these terms, and yet perhaps innately she already feels this truth. “Report to the fort tomorrow. Seek out Reinhardt and tell him I sent you. He’ll get you situated.” And with that, the Queen really must take her leave to meet with Harold. “Take care, Oline.”