RP:An Unexpected Allegiance

From HollowWiki

Part of the Thy Kingdom Come Arc


Summary: With Orikahn, Aira, Linn looking on from afar, Hildegarde and Gunnar meet. The former and current leaders of Frostmaw are discussed and a new alliance between Gunnar and Hildegarde is made.



The Rolling Hills

Gunnar 's arrival is one that could not have been fortold. Long has it been since the former champion of Frostmaw and Lord Commander of the Snow Maiden's army been seen, thus ausing many rumors to spread throughout those ranks that were about in his time. But this was years ago, in the begining days of Satoshi's rule, and thus many have now forgotten the price paid by Aramoth's Chosen, and the penance he took upon himself to atone for having to slay the Jarl he once swore his allegience to. To protect Frostmaw the former General left, with a small warband of those he deemed worthy, and tot he farthest reaches of the tundra did they travel, seeking out exiles, ice devil and any other manner of a fight they could find. Aramoth demanded such, for that is the price of being a true follower of the War God. Constant battles must be waged, any challenge met as blood is the offering given, be it your own or your enemies. So as peace settled upon Frostmaw, Gunnar Stormbeard left in search of a fight worthy of his prowess. Now, as word spread to even the absolute furthest corners of Frostmaw's boarders, Stormbeard was told war once more has found its way back to his beloved home. And, after a long journy through the dangerous tundra, he finds home is not what he left it as. Balder was one of the first he met as he walked back into the city once more, the youthful warrior egotistical and vile nature instantly warning Gunnar something was indeed not right. Balgruuf is met, sitting on the throne that Gunnar himself sat Satoshi on, even using the ring of the old Jarl as an impromtu crown for the woman to use. Balgruuf explained his story, of how Satoshi's new Steward was weak, of how Satoshi abandoned "our" people, and that Gunnar's arrival was questionable. To appease this would be new Jarl and his blood thirsty son, Aramoth's Paladin needed to prove himself. A task was given, and those closed gates opened once more to allow Gunnar and his warband out to complete that task. So, with hoods drawn up over their massive frames, these giants make there way into the camp. Hefriig and Tyr lead the way, while the others create a protective formation around their leader. With this formation, these warriors seem on guard but non threatening. Ready for anything and nothing all at the same time. Seasoned veterans ready to serve Stormbeard's command. The fires of the camp offer a warmth for these travelers, the sight of such a mix of races all here, where rumor was this camp was stationed, is taken into note. Tyr moves forward as this squad of northern warriors makes themselves known, and calls out. "Our leader wishes to speak to Hildegarde the Silver, Steward of Frostmaw." Many eyes turn upon the group, as the sudden arrival of these Frost Giants raises many questions indeed.

Hildegarde, since the attack upon her person by Trajek, had been confined to bedrest by Leone’s command and the insistence of the protective Mikael. It was difficult enough to lay in bed all day in Frostmaw, but it was harder here at the camp: it bustled with life. There were many preparing for the battle to come and many who socialised within the camp, meaning that it was never a quiet and restive environment. It was always busy; always noisy; always stinking of food, sweat, blood and worse. But that was life as a soldier, that was life as a warrior and the knight didn’t mind it one bit. She found it difficult to stay within the confines of her tent, considering she could hear Orikahn and Aira not terribly far away, but she feared Leone’s outburst more than any other consequence! However, now was different. Now silence had fallen upon the camp and a voice boomed out about some leader wishing to speak to her. Wound be damned, the knight would not ignore such a call. Slipping swiftly out of the furs, the knight donned a cotton shirt and quickly shuffled into her leather leggings, the chainmail and iron greaves. She ties her hair back with the tattered dark blue ribbon before belting her sword to her hip and grasping her halberd, then exiting the tent. “Can your leader speak for themselves?” the knight asked in retort, though her tone was not aggressive or hostile. The smile on her face implies that the question was intended to be taken humorously; as any giant might laugh at the culture of the gentry and the south. “I am Hildegarde.”

Orikahn flickers his eyes over to Aira at her rebuttal, and he snorts away the objection like it was an offensive odor, and he accepts the offered meat without batting an eye, soon scarfing it down much as he'd scarfed his own steak a moment ago. "Focus on your bow," he directs her, "and be thinking of your exorcism." Bit by bit, he whittles and carves, directing the wood to take shape one sliver at a time, sometimes using his axe, sometimes using his dagger, always keeping his focus as keen as his blade. Around him, the camp hums and bustles, but the cat can tune out a background when he needs to. Right about when the bow is becoming recognizable as such, however, something happens that Orikahn can't ignore, and he looks up from his work. With an agitated flick, Kahn's tail bushes out. "That looks like trouble." He comments to Aira, wiping his brow as he studies the band of hooded giants that have waltzed in to camp. Hildegarde's arrival, likewise, has Orikahn turning to look. "We were just talking about her," he remarks to his fellow hunter, "do you think she heard us?"

Aira probably mimics Kahn's facial expressions, miming his words with her mouth but still stays quiet. Even as he commands her to keep focus, like a teacher disciplining a child, she holds her tongue albeit an audible hmph is given. However, when he bids her think upon her upcoming and unnecessary exorcism, she begins to mumble in elvish under her breath once more, a few not-so-lady-like words directed towards her fellow hunter. Eventually, it dies away though, because her focus is entirely on her crafting the bow. She is slower than she normally would be, having to pause frequently as her stitched up skin tugs and pulls in protest as she moves. Aira doesn't let the pain hinder her job completely, continuing to plow along despite the fact she is well behind Kahn. The huntress has no tail to puff out but she does feel a prickling sensation upon the back of her neck. She is already turning to face the procession when Kahn mentions trouble coming, the familiar scowl tugging at the corners of her lips. Her head whips around as she hears Hildegarde speak, not realizing that she was not only present, but so close to their person. At the hunter's question Aira bobs her blonde head and answers in a whisper. "Yup. And I bet you're going to be in a lot of trouble for it. Probably make you work under me now," she teases, smirking at the thought of Kahn taking orders from her. "Do you know who that is?" She inquires conspiratorially, inclining her chin towards Gunner and his parade.

Gunnar watches as Tyr goes to answer the Steward's joke about his leader talking for himself, and haults the proud warrior by simply putting his gauntlet covered hand upon Tyr's shoulder. A quick pat is offered as well before Stormbeard makes his way to the front of his warband and tosses back that heavy fur covered cloak of his to reveal himself fully to all present. A massive frame, riddled in scars that seem to adorn large muscles, even for giant standards, like trophies. Proudly worn, and even more so earned. What isn't bare to see is covered in spotless armor that is a mixture of blue iron, enchanted black ice, and the brilliant white everfrost; enchanted to never melt, it aids in keeping the frost giant cool in these warmer climates. His stormcloud colored hair is pulled back, kept in place by a circlet made of that famous armor and adorned with his personal sigil of the Stormbeard clan, which stands on the right side of the holy symbol of Aramoth, to again be flanked by the symbol of Frostmaw itself. His beard, well kept, has two braids that fall down from his mustace, while two thicker braids fall from the center, all adorned with blure iron ringlets to keep them in place. Eyes of an brilliant blue peer out from beneath bushy brows to fall upon one person and one person only. Hildegarde. " I am Gunnar Stormbeard, once the Champion of Frostmaw and once the Lord Commander of the Snow Maiden's mighty army." His tone is powerful, edged with a command that comes from years of leading troops into battle, but it carries with it no threat or demeaning nature. He was informing those of who he is, and nothing more. "Long have me and my men been gone, and there seems to be much me and you need to discuss, Steward. But, it seems there is a would be Jarl who allowed me and my men to pass through -our- home, who wants us to kill you." He chuckles, as part of him welcomes any battle, and if rumors were true this woman was perhaps as skilled a warrior as he was. "But." He raises his hand to halt any concerns. "Honor is paramount to our people, and if this foolish Balgruuf is so desperate as to send me as some kind of assassin, than he isn't fit to sit upon the throne that does not belong to him. So, to ease things I say I am here only to talk, to Hildegarde only, about matters, and upon my honor as a Stormbeard, a Frost Giant and Aramoth's paladin, I swear no harm shall come to any by my hands, or my men's hands, this day." He knew what it was like to have unexpected guests waltz into a warcamp. But, if this Steward was as knowledgable as they say, she'd also know that most, if not all, frost giants would not swear upon their honor to keep the peace if they intended only tp break it in some vile sneak attack. Such would be deemed cowardly, and honor would be tarnished, something -no- giant would ever risk.

Hildegarde eyed the armour with recognition, her fingers curled around the shaft of her halberd while her free hand makes the tiniest of gestures at Aira and Orikahn. It’s not a ‘relax’ but it’s not a kill order either. It’s a sort of ‘let’s stay cautious’ type of gesture. “I know the name,” the knight replies after a long moment of silence, “and I know the boots. While none replaced the role of Champion of Frostmaw,” mostly because no one wanted to take the role without facing off against the champion himself, “I did replace you as Lord Commander,” and successfully led Satoshi’s men against Hrathgar and the exiles that had plagued Frostmaw. As Gunnar speaks of private business and his encounter with Balgruuf, the knight once again waits few moments before replying; as if she were thinking carefully on how best to word her reply. “Is your business private, m’lord? For if not, I have no shame in discussing my business openly in front of these men here,” not that she feared for her life. If Gunnar so much as looked at her wrong, Hildegarde could be counted on to say ‘come at me and die!’ so she was certainly not afraid of him. No, her issue was transparency. The knight saw herself as that: a knight. A woman amongst equals and she expected to talk amongst her equals, rather than squirrel herself and the visitor away for none to hear and none to have a say about. “Balgruuf calls himself King, not Jarl,” the knight said, “and his honour has been besmirched,” she doesn’t say it unkindly or to be cruel, but more as a matter of fact. Balgruuf had horribly dishonoured himself at the caravan and his son had given him a holy showing up, too. As Gunnar promises no harm shall come to her camp on this day, she only offers him a smile; safe in the knowledge that she’d gladly fight him to the bitter end if he dared to harm those she called friend. Orikahn shakes his head at Aira's question. "No, but I think Hildegarde does," he whispers back at the elf. He affords the steward a glance, mostly to gauge her possible reactions to topics previous, but instead he catches a private signal, and he *believes* he catches the gist. "I think we're supposed to wait for a signal," he whispers again to the elf, counting on her sensitive hearing to catch the tiny, breathless words and hoping, privately, that the crackling fire and murmuring camp will be enough to keep Gunnar or his men from overhearing. The hunter goes back to carving his bow. Mikael is close after Hildegarde, concern knitting his brow, a look of gentle worry that turns to stony, calloused appraisal as he spots Gunnar and his men. Much as his steward has her hand on her halberd, her bodyguard has already slipped one arm into his shield; his other weighs an axe, testing its balance.

Aira likewise catches that gesture from Hildegarde's hand, tilting her head to the side so her tapered ear can catch Orikahn's muffled words. She nods her head in understanding before lifting those copper irises to Gunnar, not just looking and noting his scars, but studying his body language. She purses her lips, suddenly feeling self conscious of her lack of attire on top (with only a piece of fabric knotted around her chest). Should a fight break out the sylvan woman would be quite unlucky without armor or a bow to speak of. Somewhere in her mind she hears Kahn going back to his bow, and after several moments, she too follows his example. Still, her unblinking metallic gaze occasionally moves to the giant.

Linn once more came to the war-camp in Xalious wearing his usual gear and pack, though in the last week that excluded the plates that formed up a good deal of his armor. Left with only the mithil scale and fine mail around his joints and abdomen he had a rather odd half-silvered appearance, the remaining leather flecked with a pattern of star-cut gemstones. At the time he arrived he only caught the tail end of the conversation between Gunnar and Hildegarde, the sight of the rather imposing giants against the steward bringing about his late paranoid pessimism. He approached slowly in an attempt to avoid causing any further disruptions for now while pre-emptively drawing the mana crystal that worked as a magical shield and more recently weapon, keeping it closed in his fist to conceal it from prying eyes. Those with an arcane sense would possibly lose it in the presence he had himself, while those with a spiritual or divine sense may just realize the faint draw of death contained within it. The sight of Aira and Orikahn gave him something to go to at least, bringing him to sit down next to the huntress elf (Things were still likely awkward/nervous with the feline) with a lowly whispered question as his eyes never left the two figures that took the attention of the rest of the camp, “What’s going on?” Her appearance would probably be commented on later when things didn’t look like they were about to blow up (in his mind anyway).

Gunnar nods his head as Hilde informs him to speak freely before all present. She is being cautious. But what most don't know is that so is he. Long has he been gone, and longer still since he saw his home. When he left it was only a few short months after the last Jarl was killed, by Gunnar's own hands, to place Satoshi on the Throne. Stormbeard played a part of turning a long standing tradition and way of life upside down, to which many did not know what to do but -blame- him. New regimes are not usually welcomed overnight, especially when they go against all you've ever known all of your life. The story of the Snow Maiden helped ease this, as a godly figure was better than the truth. But, over time one came to see that perhaps Satoshi was more the Snow Maiden than she herself would admit. She ushered in a new peaceful and prosperous era for Frostmaw that even Vornir or Gunnar could have hoped for. And much like Vornir, Gunnar too to a kind of self imposed exile whil figuring out where his role in things was. Many things have plagued Frostmaw in his absence, word travels, but it was all handled by the Queen and her people, as to be expected. Satoshi met trials time and time again, and like a true leader she handled them by herself, or those chosen champions. These, at the time, outsiders that rose up to defend Frostmaw only made Gunnar feel that he had chosen correctly. War was his life, but war was not always the answer. Wisdom has come to him in his years of self isolation. And that wisdom shows here, now as he says to Hildegarde. "Satoshi is gone. This much I have gathered. Many she had about when I was here, gone as well, or dead. And here, I find she chose a Steward. A warrior of reknown skill and honor who embodies what Frostmaw's spirit is, but leads with a sense of duty and wisdom that is often missing among Frost Giant kind." The man chuckles, and at this time he too signals for his men to relax, and nods to Tyr to take them back a bit as if to ease the tension. The warband falls back, and Stormbeard goes back to his discussion with Hildegarde and all present. "Yet, I find that there are those who still believe in the old ways. And while I have fond memories of those days, for my home to grow and become what Satoshi meant it to be, such a foolish notion cannot be allowed to see fruition." Seems not only has his wisdom grown, but also his vocabulary. "Lets be blunt. I've been gone, you've lead in my stead. I'm not here to challenge your reign, nor undermine your leadership." He extends his hands out and waves them over all gathered. "You've giants, elves and warriors of all kinds coming to -your- call. That speaks volumes alone of Satoshi's choice in leader. And, if she entrusted you with Frostmaw, then I will trust in her judgement as well. For she was my Queen, who I bled for, who I killed for. And, if you'll have me, and my men, we'd wish to see Frostmaw restored, though... I grow tired of killing my kin. If possible, I seek the least amount of bloodshed, but will not shy from all out war either. I am here to lend aid, once more, to who I believe is the right kind of ruler Frostmaw, and my people, need. And on my honor, that is the truth of it."

Hildegarde feels some reassurance with the towering presence of Mikael behind her. She knows she can handle herself, but he has always had her back and will continue to do so. “As you know, Frostmaw is a dangerous land. It’s reasonable to assume that some either moved onto other things or that they have died somewhere in the Tundra,” and were forever lost to the snows, “but Satoshi has always had a wanderlust. She named her Steward and I fully intend to protect Frostmaw at all costs,” all while trying to retain her honour and the honour of Frostmaw. She overlooked the comments about her honour and fighting ability, opting to remain humble by not touching on the subject! As Gunnar calms his own men and has them disperse a little, the tension of the camp eases ever so slightly. Not entirely, but just slightly. They have to be cautious. They’re too close to the goal of having Frostmaw that they can’t afford to slip up now. With Gunnar offering himself and his men to Hildegarde’s cause, the knight glances to those gathered in the camp; evidently trying to read their faces for approval or lack thereof. “Satoshi trusted in you,” the knight said after a long moment. “And I will do the same.”

Orikahn offers the freshly arrived Linn a passing moment of attention and a nod of acknowledgement, but he soon glances over to Hildegarde as she seems to pause and read the company so gathered. The cat seems lukewarm and, frankly, more interested in his bow. With the tension of the moment easing, he can let his fur lay flat again and focus on his hands. "Looks like *nothing's* going on." The cat mutters in answer to the spellblade's question. A bunch of grit-measuring and whose-honor-is-longer talk, if you ask him, not that Orikahn would term the present activities as such en verbatim. Mikael gives his axe a little twirl, letting it tumble over his knuckles and back into his grasp, watching Gunnar's men disperse with more caution than relief and, at Hildegarde's implicit bidding, he holsters the weapon once more, hanging it back on his person. Behind him, other giants had stood to peek over the tents, and Gunnar's name circulates among them, along with other muttered things. They're soon sitting back down, though some are eager to meet back with his men, spotting long lost brothers, uncles, and cousins to welcome them with clasped shoulders and shouts of greeting, in that order. Orikahn looks over to Aira, and down to her bow. "I think I'm finished with this," he offers her his tomahawk, setting the granite weapon blade down into the dirt with a "thump". Indeed, there's nothing left for Kahn but fine trimming, and he can shave the last details with the flint of his dagger.

Aira shifts her gaze from her work as Linn approaches and takes a seat on the ground beside her. She offers him nothing more than a shrug and a shake of her head. She is saved from having to answer the enchanter by Kahn voice, left only nodding her agreement. With the tension seeming to dissipate, Aira also moves her focus back to her bow which is still in the very early stages of being such. "Thanks, Kitty," she offers as she takes up the tomahawk he no longer needs. It certainly speeds up the process a bit, but the huntress grows tired more quickly due to her injuries, her face screwing up in frustration due to her limited range of motion and weariness. She needs a break and it angers her, slamming the tomahawk in the ground as she swears under her breath, wiping beads of sweat from her brow. Just a few minutes, she tells herself, slightly embarrassed. "What are you doing here?" she asks Linn while she rests.

Linn watched and listened to the conversation between Gunnar and Hildegarde keenly, trying to pick it apart to unveil any deception. Eventually he sighed, rubbing his brows. If the giant was telling the truth he was hitting on every point that drove the enchanter to reject Balgruuf’s takeover as well. If there really was some ulterior motive at work… he’d just have to play to it. Improvise, like all the times before. Orikahn’s answer brought a slightly amused huff to Linn as he glanced back over to the hunter with a nod. Opening up his hand he looked at the darkened violet crystal for a bit before putting it back into the pouch at his side to pull another set of needle-like violet crystals that lacked the darkness of the other solid one. Deciding to join in the theme of crafting he fished around the pouches again to retrieve a chip of mithril about the size of his thumbnail before wielding the other crystal cluster like an unnatural pen against it, a thin strand of blue projecting out into the metal. Aira’s frustrated slam brought his head snapping around, and when she finally decided to begin a conversation he shrugged. “Whatever really. I just like to see what’s going on here considering how often I’m around here.” A pause as his eyes wandered to the stitching in her wounds before he cracked a thin smile. “Looks like you got yourself into some more trouble… again.”

Gunnar nods his head as the Steward offers a reprieve from this impromtu stand-off. She'd trust him, because Satoshi did. The better of the outcomes for now, and one he will not spoil by trying for more. "Very well, Steward. What would you have me do? Myself, and.." He calls back over his shoulder loud enough to rally the attention of those engaged in conversation with other frost giants. "And my -men-, will follow your command, as you see fit." Turning his attention back to Hildegarde, the massive behamoth of a warrior known as Gunnar Stormbeard eases visably. It seemsa he too was awaiting an attack at any moment, as should anyone who simply waltz into a war camp without any warning. "Balgruuf has experience. Though his son's, Balder I believe? He is a young pup who is eager to shed blood. Too eager, if you ask me. He will be the easier to exploit in any battle, and it seems his father allows the lad to lead when he should be following. But.." A pause, as the paladin of the war god says. "Balgruuf is desperate, so much so he will toss away any honor in hopes of winning this battle. And, on top of his own cunning, the fact he will do anything to win shall make him dangerous. Before we would simply allow one on one combat to settle this, and forgo ending more lives than needed. Even the exiles themselves would adhere to this pact, when they rallied a time or two before. I do not see Balgruuf risking this. But he is clever. Where hsi cowardice would normally make his men question him, and risk mutiny, he feeds into thier harsh natures and uses those left behind, the centuars, the elves and any unlucky enough to not be a giant in Frostmaw, as targets for thier rage and malice." The giant shakes his head as he replays the images of elves being bullied, even beaten, for enjoyment. "Whatever it is yo seek to do, the quicker we end it, the better. For if Balgruuf continues on this path he will ruin what was built by Satoshi, and leave you with ruins to watch over." The giant looks to the knight now, hoping she has words to put his mind at ease.

Hildegarde had heard enough about Balgruuf and Balder both to understand that honour did not mean an awful lot to the pair. “You can stop calling me Steward for a start, that’s not my name,” she said with a little grunt. “My name is Hildegarde, use that,” she didn’t like titles and she made it clear. “Secondly, get yourself and your men some food. I don’t imagine the journey from Frostmaw to here to have been terribly easy, so you ought to relieve yourselves now that you’ve declared your intentions,” she said, gesturing to the camp as a whole. “As for Balgruuf and Frostmaw… I have no intention of mercilessly spilling blood. I may be a warrior, but I am not a murderer. I have no desire nor intention of spilling more blood than is necessary,” the Silver explained, though those who knew her already knew she wouldn’t go off and kill for the sake of killing. “I don’t intend to drag this war out.”

Orikahn stands and sets his finished bow next to Aira's. "For a reference, if you need one. Yours should be thinner than mine, for a lighter draw." Indeed, Kahn's bow almost looks like it could be equally effective as a staff or, split at the middle, a pair of clubs. "I'm going to gather some greenery for the second smoking. Don't worry about coming with," he's quick to add, and he glances to her still rather rough-hewn bow. "I'll show which herbs I picked before throwing them on the fire." He glances down to Linn's own crafts, and Orikahn studies them a moment with curiosity before he pauses. "You don't have your shinies today," the hunter remarks. Meanwhile, the giants that had greeted Gunnar's band make quick goodbyes, knowing that they'll have time to reunite with their lost brethren soon, and they gradually disperse into the camp. "I'll uhm," Orikahn glances between Linn and Aira, and he even looks up to Hildegarde too, making sure he speaks loud enough for her to overhear, "be going into the woods. Does anyone need anything?" Great spirits, it's like he's offering to make a grocery list.

Aira tilts her head up to look at Kahn as he stands. She moves to join him but is quickly shot down, causing her to heave a heavy sigh before plopping back down in her seat. Aira hated being cooped up, didn't like large crowds of people either. Thus, camp life was difficult for the impatient elf (who was also pretty terrible at resting). "Replenish your supply of moss and other things. You are supposed to teach me medicine, too," she reminds him quickly before moving her slender fingers over his bow. She nods at his instructions to make hers thinner but makes no move to continue her crafting just yet. Attention moves to Linn and then down to the nasty skin of her midsection, the burned looking flesh stitched together in the shape of a sideways V, a mirror of the wound on her back. She offers the enchanter a nonchalant shrug. "Kahn got hungry, thought I looked tasty."

Linn looked up from his own work in curiosity at the bows Kahn and Aira were making every now and then, but said little about it. Not that he really knew anything about it. The comment on his ‘shinies’ brought a light chuckle and a nod. “Soon I’ll have them back. More ridiculously shiny and sparkly than ever. It’s a hard habit to break I’m finding out.” He responded whimsically before continuing to poke that blue light at the mithril chip, turning and angling it as if trying to carve something out with a slight frustration that hinted at a similar lack of desired progress. Aira’s joke at just what caused her wounds brought around an equally nonchalant response, “Nah. He’d have taken your head off first if he wanted to eat you…” Looking back at the wounds his brows furrowed deeper and deeper as he fully realized the shape of the stitches and the burns. That definitely wasn’t a kitty-bite. “Damn it Aira… what in the world –did- you get into?”

Gunnar orders his men to start setting up thier own camp within the larger war camp, all with a simple nod to his second, Tyr. After the years spent with just these warriors, Gunnar could communicate without even saying a word most times. To the knight he says. "Very well, Hildegarde. Well met. We've supplies we'll share, weapons we've aquired over our journies and I even have a shaman and a damn good smith if needed. For now, I'll settle in and await your command." With that said, and unless Hilde stops him, Gunnar would go to do just that. He isn't a leader that -just- command, he is right there, setting up tents and helping get supplies out and readily available right alongside his men. The massive warrior, tall and broad by even Frost Giant standards seems content that he met the woman Satoshi left in charge. He can see why, a good bit at least, and this places his troubled mind at ease. But, no sooner does he relax do the images of centaurs used as pack mules, elves beaten and abused and all manner of foul natured occurences flash before his mind. This was not the way, this was not who his people were. Balgruuf will pay, and if history is any reminder, Gunnar may be there to end him as he did the last Jarl. Though now, the whereabouts of Satoshi make him concerned. He looked upon the kit like family, and he hopes she is well whereever she is, and that she'd be happy Hildegarde and him were getting along and coming together to save her beloved kingdom.

Hildegarde looked to Orikahn as he said he was preparing to leave, “If you’re around Sage, I would like it if you could speak to Gilwen for me. I’d like to see her again soon, please,” she said before approaching the big cat and speaking a little more quietly. Evidently, whatever it was she wanted Gilwen for was something personal or something to not shout out about. That said, the knight glanced over at Gunnar and his men before smiling over at Linn and Aira. “Have you seen Leone?” Aira offers a smile up to Hildegarde, her hand coming up to tuck a longer lock of hair behind her tapered ear. "Good to see you again, Hilde. But no, I haven't seen Leone, I'm afraid." Sliding her copper eyes back to Linn she sighs. "A dragon got a hold of me, thought I would make a tasty snack." A beat, "good thing I slit his throat before he had a chance to bite me in two."

Linn released a weak ‘heh’ as Gilwen’s name came back up. He had enough to recognize it as the person he met in Sage, and man that was a first impression he’d rather not have had. Hildegarde’s question about seeing Leone brought a shake of his head to the same conclusion as Aira. “I haven’t seen her either since Frostmaw.” A second as he thought on it… that was a –long- time. When the huntress explained that the wound came from a dragon his eyes went back to the wounds. It didn’t look like the biggest dragon’s head, but that took some balls. He just sighed and shook his head, weakly throwing his hands up in the air at the idea. “At this point I shouldn’t even be surprised…” he muttered before continuing to try and pick away at the mithril chip with whatever magical tool he was working on.

You nods and returns to her tent, because it's late!