RP:Blitzball and Action

From HollowWiki

Part of the Vakmatharas' Jar Arc


Summary: Hildegarde runs into Brennia at a Blitzball game and things were going well until Vermillion and an attack from a mysterious figure.

Glorious Arena

A crowd of cheering and screaming spectators almost reaches the roof of this dome-topped structure. Some are seated, but most are up on their feet, stamping their feet and shouting out jeers and pumping their fists as several brawlers below in caged ring fight to the death against themselves, and possibly beasts that have been taken captive for such a glorious arena such as this. Severely injured combatants are carted off by healers that appear every once and awhile, along with badly dismembered corpses. The stench of blood, gore and sweat is almost unbearable in this place, but it doesn’t seem to bother anyone inside. The adrenaline rush of the fight seems to be all that’s being focused on. In the centre of the arena, a massive statue of gold and white marble stands. This must have been a great and noble Avian warrior to be worthy of such idolatry.




Brennia | The arena has been cleared out and patches of grass has been put down on the floor, but the real marvel of this large arena is the employed illusionists; a handful on the ground marking the downs and yards to go to the goal hoops, some in the stands projecting the images of spirited patrons they see high above the field and of course the one showing the score. This game is played by the more aerial beings, but this new sport has garnered spectators of all races and backgrounds. The first quarter kicks off a little later than usual due to the time restraint of the sun even though they are indoors, you can never be too safe. The home side is easy to see with fans dressed in bright red, white, and black accents - some of them even have painted faces! A group of rowdy frat boys have the word CARDINALS spelled out on their bare chests and it seems the home team is ahead so far against the Talon Tempests. Brennia might be easily spotted by someone who knows her, but she isn’t wearing a usual form fitting outfit and she didn’t care to cover up her scars today. Wearing simple black leggings under a loose fitting Cardinals jersey and her long black hair pulled up in a high ponytail, but she was sitting on her own with plenty of space around herself and checking over her shoulder every once in awhile. The light seems a little dimmer in those stunning liberty eyes even though they stay focused on the game.


Hildegarde, being quite so obsessed with duty, very rarely found herself making the time to leave Frostmaw and do things. She usually enjoyed passing off foreign duties to Lionel, seeing as he had a bit of a wanderlust and she very much liked to remain in the cold north amongst the people she had come to dearly love. Unfortunately, part of being Queen often meant that other politically minded folk often attempted to curry favour with her through gestures of goodwill; gifts; compliments and invitations. Upon receiving an invitation to attend the game of blitzball by the Raan of Schezerade, Hildegarde found herself obligated to go. Partially because Lionel couldn't attend, partially because Larket had been invited to a game before she had been (according to popular rumour) and largely because she really liked sport! The Queen of the North arrived in the arena in more casual attire: Frostmawian styled tunic, trousers and shoes, all lined with fur and maybe even chainmail. Gotta be ready for a fight at any time. Hildegarde didn't have much understanding of this game, nor the teams, so she was certainly in for a treat. The Silver waited a moment, eyeing the arena appreciatively before attempting to find a seat of her choice.


Brennia was cheering with the rest as the second goal was scored by her own bardic student and guild member, Hinder, but she caught the sight of Hildegarde as the Queen was looking for a place to sit. An arc of her brow in slight surprise, “hello.” Brennia threw her voice so only Hildegarde would hear the sultry alto timbre as if the avian were standing right beside her, “come sit here, there's a few empty seats.” A wave of her hand to draw attention to herself and where she was sitting. Once Hildegarde spotted her Brennia would smile warmly at her and beckon her over, but glances around the queen, wondering if she had a guard or two with her. Hoping she does, actually, since Brennia, Hudson and Fitz got jumped just outside the arena a few weeks ago. Suspicion still plagues her mind that it was The Flewminati, but talk of crazy conspiracies will not be coming out of her lips, “pleasure to see you, madame, how did the tea treat you?” She recalls back to the basket she brought Hildegarde not long ago.


Hildegarde | Although the voice comes as a surprise, Hildegarde does not jolt nor does she seem too alarmed. Instead, she turns her head from side to side in an effort to locate the owner of said voice, eventually catching sight of that waving hand and offering a small polite wave of her own before venturing forth to claim a seat near Brennia. "Ah, thank you, m'lady," she thanks before taking a seat. The Queen had no guard with her this day, she had ventured on her own for the sporting event. "I didn't get the opportunity to try it," she replied, "the children and young of Frostmaw are finding it difficult to cope with the head colds, so I dispersed what we had of it to the young. The shamans are brewing something similar day and night to keep the pain at bay for the younglings," she informed Brennia, "so I am thankful that you brought the tea for us to try." It meant, however, that Hildegarde was still suffering. "So, what is this sport...? I have been invited but I have little understanding."


Brennia nearly reaches for Hildegarde’s arm to comfort, but thought better of it and casually diverted her touch to push a loose shorter strand of her own hair behind elongated tapered ear. She has to remind herself that not everyone likes touch and further more, you do not paw at royalty... without their permission anyway. Her smile remains warm and welcoming while looking upon the queen from the side of her eye, “so noble of you and selfless.” It had a tinge of swooning, maybe, but she meant it as an admiring observation and she offers, “let me know if there is ever anything at all I could assist you with.” Long slender fingers adorned with sharpened black nails and a random assortment of rings mixing interestingly over her inked caramel hands were rubbing idly over the scars on her own forearms. A drink seller brings Brennia a couple of those small bottles of wine (like the pink mosquito mini bottles that come in a four pack) with a wink, “from mista Draft m’lady.” She reaches over Hildegarde, “I’m sorry, excuse me,” in order to take the drinks, but she didn’t look impressed as she set the bottles aside. Once the drink seller is well on his way she explains, “I wouldn’t trust drinking these,” before looking out to the field ahead of them to talk up the sport. “This is blitzball. Played with one ball and each team gets four attempts at getting the ball in hand through one of the goals.” She leans in just slightly to point out the three hoops suspended in the air on either end of the field. “It’s a contact sport so players can run their full bodies into each other and at times it can get brutal or rowdy.” The home team bursts out in expletives and name calling to the referees making, what they think to be, bad calls. This includes Brennia and she shouts a rather unladylike term along with the crowd before covering her mouth with a scarred hand and wide eyes at Hildegarde, “I am so sorry about that madame Hildegarde, I forgot my company.” Rare, but she was blushing and even though she was wearing cover up to hide the hives, her ears were turning red. She gently cleared her throat, “if you have any questions about the sport feel free to ask and would you let me buy you some ale or mead?” She offers with an apologetic expression.


Hildegarde is suitably distracted by the sporting event to miss the near touch from Brennia. Although Hildegarde does not view it as particularly noble or selfless, the Silver offers a nod when Brennia mentions further assistance. "If you have any spare tea leaves, I am happy to take them off your hands. Of course, I will reimburse you for this," she said, not wishing to seem greedy and selfish. The Silver lapses into silence as a drink seller comes along to ply his wares, successfully passing on drinks to Brennia from some unknown guest; Hildegarde leaning back in her chair in order to allow Brennia to accept the drinks in the first place. "Is that so?" she asked, eyeing the drink with a suspicious sort of curiosity. She wondered what was happening there, but it didn't seem her place to ask! Instead, Hildegarde merely focused on Brennia's explanation of the sport, nodding here and there before turning to look upon the contenders. As Brennia exclaims some rather unladylike terms, the knight is swift to wave her hand and dismiss the apology. "Sport brings out these passions," and she had heard worse. "So what is the name of the home team...? I feel I am compelled to support the team of your choice, m'lady, as your guest."


Brennia shakes her head, “I won’t hear of it. Your people need aid and I will be happy to help. If you’d like I can even send therapists, what we call healers, your way to help.” She is quick to go back to smiling as the blush on redness on her ears subsides, “I may sound a bit paranoid, but I suspect Vermillion Draft is either mixing the drinks with something nefarious or expecting that I would make a fool of myself at these games. He’s been sullying the name of the bard’s college and my own name in the papers he owns, but is a smiling saint when we meet in person as if he’s none the wiser.” The offer for a drink is passed over and the subject gladly brought back around to the game at hand while the second quarter is underway with the home team still ahead, “The Cardinals is the home team. This year was the first they qualified to be apart of the GBL, Global Blitzball League, because one: they never had enough players and two: the players they did have were not a passionate as the aerial team we have now.” The crowd goes wild once more, standing and cheering as the soaring back, Hinder, scored yet another goal for the home team. Sitting back down she talks as if a proud parent, “that is one of my students. Marvelous saxophone player and an even better athlete. A exceptional bright young avian.” Another glance around and she spots Vermillion making his way down the stands from his private box, but wouldn’t you know it they made eye contact and Brennia casually warns Hildegarde, “speaking of the devil.” Deep breath and a fake smile painted on her lips when he approached the pair, nose in the air and tone thick in condescension , “ah… Miss Smyth. Come to enjoy that Hinder lad on my team? I see you got my gift,” he gestures towards the bottles sitting on the empty seat next to her before those cold green eyes set behind gold rimmed tinted glasses take in the sight of Hildegarde. Blatantly looking down down at the stranger, “interesting choice in company. Some attire these dirtboots have down there, no?” scrutiny narrows his eyes as the last part was said for the two members of his ‘posse’ with him and a glance to them was their queue to laugh at his ‘oh so witty’ observation. “You arroga-” Brennia starts with an elevation to her timbre when she stands up, but thought better of it. That’s what he wants, a rise out of her for all to see. Instead she takes a deep breath and lowers her tone, but something dark mixes with her sultry alto timbre - something a bit scary, “Vermillion, this is Hildegarde, Queen of Frostmaw.” A gentle clearing of her throat, “the next time you address this lady -better- be with such respects or I promise, you will regret it.” Stunning liberty blue eyes narrow at the man as if to strike right through between his eyes and all the while she was enacting a cowardice spell woven in her words. For now Draft is standing there looking to be a bit dumbfounded.


Hildegarde shook her head at the mention of healers being sent up from Schezerade to Frostmaw, "I would respectfully decline such a gracious offer, m'lady, for I cannot deprive the people of Schezerade in their time of need. We shall power on, as is our way. I will acquire more tea and seek out more remedies to alleviate the pain, whilst Leone - our High Priestess - does some research." Evidently, Frostmaw seems to be more or less under wraps. They were a tough people! As Brennia explains that Vermillion is likely a shady character who has done something rather untoward with the offered drinks, Hildegarde nods her head and makes an 'oh' of understanding. He's one to watch, clearly. One who is also clearly approaching. Hildegarde does not appear to mind that he looks down upon her, this was the manner of many men she had encountered in her life before knocking them to the dust. Although Hildegarde wishes to interrupt Brennia and save them from a scene, she can tell that there has been much tension between the two and this correction would be a victory for the bard. As Hildegarde is 're-introduced' as the Queen of Frostmaw, she rises from her seat to look upon Vermillion properly. "Hinder, you say?" she says it in a conversational manner, even turning her head to eye the field as if in search for the avian, "Is he better that a dirtboot?" she asked pleasantly. "Forgive, I cannot say I have noticed this... Hinder. I have been much distracted by my gracious host, the Lady Brennia, who has been of great help to Frostmaw," here she offers a smile to Brennia; a most Queenly smile. "I hope I am not being a hindrance to you and your city, sir. Am I too much of a dirtboot to be here?" she asked it sweetly, but it is clear that she will not tolerate much snark. Hildegarde is by no means a pretty woman: her face is a myriad of scars, her body is muscular and she's clearly seen her fair share of fights.


Brennia's eyes linger on Hildegarde before her in a subtle admiration, yes muscular and yes scarred, but Brennia can see beauty about Hildegarde as Brennia seems to forget she's a Queen whenever they are near each other. She mentally shakes thinking on that train of thought any longer when she peeked her head around Hildegarde to look at Draft while crossing her arms under her perky bust. “If I may amend that comment, Lady Hildegarde,” she smiles right back, “this isn't his city. Yes, he may be apart of The Chamber of Raan, but they've yet to appoint a lead-.” She's cut off by Vermillion, “that's rich coming from you. You instruct the homeless to sing and dance, right? Let's not forget your sordid past either when you let that -vampire- live in our city as one of your suitors,” he scoffs, “and where is he now?” Both of his comments were low blows and for only a moment something black inked over her blue eyes before she sat herself back down, “must be a shame being restricted by such small thinking and lack of culture and diversity. Mi’lady Hildegarde,” the name surfacing an alluring accent with her golden tongue when she looked up at the Queen, “shall we continue to enjoy the sport and allow short sided men to go about their day?” She gives a goodbye wave to Vermillion and that fake smile which caused him to walk away chuckling through a smirk, thinking he was victorious.


Hildegarde allowed the amendment, taking note of the fact that he was actually a member of the senate of Schezerade. Fantastic. As Vermillion interjects Brennia, who gives a sassy retort as always, Hildegarde is yet to take her seat once more. Instead, she has remained standing this entire time: watching and listening to the exchange between the two. Before Vermillion can turn to go, Hildegarde extends her hand as if to say 'oh wait', "Ah, I didn't realise you were part of the Raan, sir. I look forward to the dinner this evening, regarding the proposed trade deal between my kingdom and this city," it wasn't an actual thing, it had only merely been proposed to Hildegarde that she have dinner with the Raan and discuss a potential deal, but it hadn't been set in stone! Hildegarde was only mentioning it now to be a little bit of a devil. "I hope I am not too scruffy for you all," she smiled, offering him a nod of her head before resuming her seat.


Brennia crossed one leg over the other and her foot was shaking just slightly, but otherwise she looked cool as a cucumber during Hildegarde and Vermillion’s exchange. “Very well then,” was all the pompous male said with a scoff through a smirk, looking the Queen up and down at her mention of ‘scruffy’ before walking away with his paid for ‘posse’. She's exhausted, not feeling well with the solar allergy, has been doing nothing but work for the college and on her night off she gets thoroughly embarrassed in front of a Queen. To have a failed love thrown in her face, her work demeaned and pride of Hinder stolen atop everything else it was a breaking point, but she wasn't about to breakdown here. After the Ver-Villain was out of sight she took a deep breath and one single tear slipped out before she quickly swiped it away, “I’m embarrassed… I am so sorry you had to see that, Lady Hildegarde and further I apologize, but there is a matter at the college I must attend to.” She uncrossed her legs and turned slightly to face Hildegarde in her seat with a serious expression, “the Raan senate cannot pass or amend deals without the balance in their favor. Do not let them underhand you as I suspect they are going to attempt to do, Lady Hildegarde.” Her own hand idly caressed over a fresh tiny wound of what looks like a knick on her neck from being held at dagger point recently and her tone lowered in volume, “when you leave Schezerade, please be on alert.” She gently cleared her throat when she stood up, “of course you may take refuge at the Bard’s College tonight in the event your dinner runs late… I would be delighted to accommodate you, milady.” Her smile this time might be detected as forced and not like when she faked a smile for Vermillion, but because she was a little shaken. She awaits for the Queen to make way for Brennia to make her leave or if the Queen felt compelled to follow the bard out, she wouldn't protest.


Hildegarde | It takes Hildegarde a moment to realise that Brennia is upset and embarrassed by the ordeal. She had already resumed her seat once she noticed the tender and discreet swipe of a tear, she felt a terrible surge of guilt well within her. "Forgive me, m'lady," she apologised, withdrawing a Frostmaw emblazoned tissue from her pocket to present to Brennia for any further tears. Those tears do not appear to come, but Hildegarde has gifted Brennia with the tissue and expects her to keep it rather than offer it back. "Please, call me Hildegarde. I am no lady," she didn't behave like one nor did she feel like she really was one! She was a warrior, that was all. "It is not you who should be embarrassed, it is them. Such behaviour is crude and foul." As Brennia offers her advice on the unplanned meeting, Hildegarde nods her head; taking it all in stride. She knows there will be no deal. Schezerade has nothing that Hildegarde wants at the moment and thus she doesn't feel a need to offer the honour of her army and her protection for absolutely nothing; an unfair deal as some would say. When Brennia stands, so too does Hildegarde. It's the polite thing to do, after all, in the presence of a lady. The knick does not go unnoticed, but it goes without comment. No need to draw attention to something just yet. "Will you do me the honour in allowing me to escort you to the college, m'lady? Or wherever it is you deem your destination for the evening. I would enjoy being able to boast about my most gracious host."


Brennia dabbed her cheek gently with the gifted tissue and a, “thank you,” but the subtle shaking of her head when Hildegarde apologizes, “no no, you're quite fine, milady Hildegarde.” She makes her way out to the aisle way with the Queen and she's corrected, “oh, will do.” A shy smile given, “I don't mean to offend, I've heard of your greatness and admire it, but I have a habit of calling any beautiful woman: lady, madame or milady.” She dabs the corner of her eyes to prevent any tears threatening to spill out, but she was smiling again, “Hildegarde it is.” She was blushing once more at the Queen’s last words, “I would selfishly enjoy that even though I'll be taking you from seeing the end of this marvelous sport.” Velvety onyx wings possibly caressing Hildegarde by accident in the narrow space of the aisles and she mentions, “I was planning on stopping into the Tavern to buy out their tea leaves for you and your citizens.”


Hildegarde waved her hand in a dismissive manner, waving the compliments away. Compliments made her awkward, she didn't believe in them much. "You are too kind," she said in reply, politely acknowledging the compliment and trying to play it off politely because this way she won't get *too* flustered about it. She gets flustered. "No offense, of course, I just don't much care for titles. I am a knight first and foremost, m'lady, it is always my duty to protect the people and be in their service," meaning she was not deserving of titles and such. "I must say, I'm not so keen on this sport... I much prefer cudgel ball in Xalious!" It was basically baseball and she always would prefer it. Xalious was her home town! "Then let us stop by the tavern," she would politely allow Brennia to pass by her first.


Brennia felt that familiar, cliche, attraction between knight and royalty, but she's ex royalty and the knight with her is Queen. Knowing that's inappropriate and unattainable she forces her thoughts to return to something mundane, like walking down the stairs, passing through small crowds, finding the exit and checking over her shoulder between those large wings to make sure Hildegarde was following her. A smile, genuine and warm, “I like to think I'm just honest, bouclier,” the veretian word for shieldmaiden dances delightedly on Brennia’s gilded tongue. Once outside the arena she slows to walk by Hildegarde’s side once more while looking ahead at nothing in particular, “I've never been. Maybe you should take me one day and explain it when life isn't so hectic,” she lets out a short, but slightly raspy giggle and Hildegarde might not know how rare that was to hear from the bard. “It's sad when you fantasize about getting a moment to just do nothing at all,” she had unexpectedly gone back to looking upon Hildegarde, but corrected herself because she doesn't want to be thought of as one of ‘those people’. You know, the kind that try to hitch onto royalty just because of their position in society, but Brennia knows all too well about those type. Once they reach the tavern they would find it mostly vacant, save for a shady character or two at the bar with tattoos of the Flewminati symbol etched on the back of their hand. Brennia watches them out of the corner of her eye while waiting for her order and they bring out a small crate of tea leaves clearing their throat to get the bard’s attention. She peels her eyes away from the shady guys and smiles at the twins, “thank you.” She slides a small pouch of coins to them and lifted the crate all the while glancing back at those shady guys here and there, but once they were back outside she smiles and mentions, “off to the college,” while adjusting the box in her hands.


Hildegarde didn't often find her mind turning to thoughts of attraction or matters of the heart, she was often more duty driven. Love was the death of duty, after all. She knew her love for friends often barged in the way of her duty: risking absolutely everything for the safety of her friends. Hildegarde would be close behind Brennia until such a time they could walk side by side, "Bouclier?" she asked, hoping to have not butchered the word in the process of saying it. "Cudgel ball is good. I think it is less physical than blitzball," which has often surprised other people when Hildegarde mentions it's her favourite sport. They expect her to like the more brutal sports! "Ah, I know that feeling," she offered a knowing smile. Sometimes she wanted to return to just being a wandering knight; to go off and wander from city to city, town to town and help those in need without restriction. But she could never leave Frostmaw. Not now. As they enter the tavern and Brennia eyes a rather shady individual, Hildegarde doesn't understand what it is about the individual that is inherently suspicious. She has no knowledge of the group he belongs to. "I'll carry it, if you wish," she offered, accepting the crate should Brennia wish to pass it to her. If not, she'd remain ready and willing to take the crate whenever possible.


Brennia is a flatterer, lover and when she cares she does so - deeply, but with recent events and her own duties to run she's been alone. Learning to live with it. “It means shieldmaiden in my native tongue. Female warriors who are equal parts fierce champion and grace. Fitting, no?” She allows Hildegarde to carry the burden with a polite, “thank you,” while their hands might caress in passing. Whoops. No harm in some light flirtation. “Cudgel sounds delightful and I will definitely have to fit it in my schedule,” another kind smile. A silence grew between them, but it was a comfortable one as they made their ways passed the causeways of statues and gardens. “Schezerade is absolutely beautiful his time of year,” for a moment it seemed they were about to just wander about the gardens ahead, but once they were close enough the castle glimmers into view for them. A halting female voice behind them shouts, “out of our city, you HARLOT!” Brennia swirls around ready to defend Hildegarde, but realizes the insult was meant for herself and only for a moment she hesitated thinking ‘is that their opinion of me?’ This was a second she couldn't afford when the accuser used the eyewing(Flewminati) symboled hand to send a throwing star at Brennia and it stuck just below her collarbone, leaving her to watch as the attacker flew off with marvelous speed. Luckily the weapon seems to only be a nasty flesh wound and not detrimental, but really, what a jerk.


Hildegarde nodded along when told that the term meant shieldmaiden. It was always interesting to learn new things and new terms! "Ahh, very interesting," she replied. "I've met one or two shieldmaidens in my time," she had almost been one herself but not quite. A sworn-sword, an honoured knight. It was a different life. Hildegarde accepts the crate from Brennia with a smile, carrying it with ease. She had hidden strengths after all; she was no mortal woman. "I have only visited a few times. Once for business, once for pleasure and once, I think, for a fight. Which might fall between those two categories!" It usually often did. The pleasant walk then took a turn: the accusation of being a harlot and the 'swish' of a weapon means all the action is happening now. Hildegarde had pivoted on her heel to handle the insult hurtled towards Brennia, but she could not have expected the insult to have been accompanied by a weapon. It's too late for her to act and prevent the attack, nor is she fast enough at the moment to pursue or find the attacker without leaving Brennia in even more danger. Instead, Hildegarde allows the crate to drop and opts to stand before Brennia in the aim to tower over her and provide a human shield should there be any more attacks. "The wound does not look deep nor serious," she tells Brennia, hands hovering over her arms as if to offer protection and support, "but we must get you to safety."


Brennia, being the same height as Hildegarde, looks evenly into the Queen’s gaze before looking down at the star stuck in her flesh and when the avian looked back up at her again those blue eyes were inked over in black while the tattoo pattern covering her skin shifts and swirls. She slowly blinks once and her eyes return to blue while the tattoos stop moving. Brennia's forearms bend up so that her hands gently rest on Hildegarde’s wrists in sincerity, “no, you need to go.” It was odd, feeling so safe with a stranger, but also wanting to keep them safe, “do not waste your bravery on the likes of me.” A harlot, “not when the people of Frostmaw need you.” Her hands softly slip from the knight when she stepped back from her, “once I am inside the castle I will be safe for it is enchanted against attackers.” She rips the ninja star from under her collarbone, but gripping it too hard in her hand caused more menial wounds to which were ignored. “Please be vigilant when you leave here,” she reminds, “I couldn't live with myself if something happened to you, Hildegarde... Merry part until we merry meet again.” She can't help but to shine that dimple poking smile once more, the one that weakens strong men’s hearts of stone, before briskly walking herself to the castle in a near run. (Or attempting to)


Hildegarde didn't seem to be too bothered by the change in eyes and the shifting of the tattoos. Yes, they garnered a curious squint of the eye but she was not afraid nor repulsed by them. "My bravery is not wasted, m'lady," and Frostmaw was in the good hands of Lionel and Lisbeth whenever Hildegarde was not present. "I insist that I at least walk you to the castle gate, m'lady. I would hate it if I were to leave and another incident happened. I shan't bother you, I will be your silent sentinel!" she promised with a champion smile. If Brennia refused, Hildegarde would allow Brennia to walk on unattended. At least, unattended up close! She'd follow behind from a distance and do her best to make sure no further incident would occur. She'd see Brennia home safe.