RP:Finding Purpose

Part of the Thy Kingdom Come Arc

Summary: Dominic meets Hildegarde and offers his abilities -- such as they are -- to the war effort. Many truths are left unspoken.

Town Well

Hildegarde's camp was growing with each passing day, it almost seemed as though victory was well within sight now! Of course, the knight didn't want to be too arrogant or get her hopes up just yet, but it was difficult not to get those hopes up! The Silver had elected to depart from the immediate boundary of the camp, striking out into the village and towards the town well where she would lean her halberd against the well to free up her hands. The woman was certainly not work shy: she was built like a Clydesdale. All muscle and brawn, larger than some men and not much prettier! So here she stood, the would be Queen, her hands affixed to the winch to begin the collecting of water for the camp. Would Kreekitaka need salt water or would the fresh water work? She wasn't sure. Either way, the camp would need the water.

Dominic was trying to work up the gumption to march into that same camp and insist somehow that he could make himself useful, but now that he was near, he found himself nervous and putting it off. Maybe he should check out the Xalious sights while it was still daylight out. The mage tower was a wonder, to be sure. And he was sure the library would be able to keep him occupied for days... except for the pesky fact that he couldn’t read. Maybe he could climb the Xalious Tree -- was that even allowed?

He was headed in that southward direction, intent on continuing his procrastination, when he spied the well. The woman drawing water from it looked... vaguely familiar, though he couldn’t immediately place why. Reeled in by curiosity, he steered himself towards her and came to a halt a few meters away, hands in his pockets and emerald eyes searching her face for something that might jog his memory. “Sorry to interrupt, but uh... have we met before?” He hoped it wouldn’t sound like he was trying to come on to her; he just genuinely couldn’t figure out where he’d seen her likeness before.

Hildegarde ’s face certainly wasn’t something anyone would want to stare it for any length of time. She was by no means a pretty woman, what with that horrendously crooked, red and angry looking nose, the mottled and burnt flesh of her jaw and cheek, the missing eye and the various scars that flecked her face. She wasn’t one to stare at for too long. When an unfamiliar voice apologises for interrupting and then questions their familiarity – or lack thereof – the winch of the well comes to a halt, as Hildegarde straightens her posture to look at Dominic properly. Rather than keep both hands on the winch to prevent all her progress from being lost, she keeps a hand upon it and lightly too. Hildegarde is far stronger than the average mortal man. “Unfortunately, I can’t say that we’ve met. At least, I don’t think we have. I’m Hildegarde the Silver, a pleasure to meet you.”

Dominic blinked a few times in rapid succession, face frozen. Hildegarde, she’d said. As in -that- Hildegarde (not that there was any other). As in the Hildegarde running a campaign against the frost giants. The same frost giants that had come down to Xalious some month before, bearing an effigy that he suddenly realized was -her- likeness. That he’d gone and punched, because there was a contest and why not. ...Oops. Well, maybe he could just not mention that detail and it would stay forgotten. In defense, he’d had utterly no idea what was going on in Lithrydel at the time. “...Oh,” he finally said, shaking his head and pulling himself out of his thoughts. “W-well, that explains it. Your name’s been all over everywhere. I must have seen a drawing of you or something, too.” It wasn’t a -great- stretch of the truth, but it would have to do. He thrust his hand out, intending for a handshake. “Uh, Dominic, nice to meet you. I’ve been... meaning to meet up with you anyway, actually. I don’t actually know a whole lot about what’s going on, but uh, I wanted to get involved in whatever way I can.” He was positively jittery, nervous and stumbling over his words.

Hildegarde may have had only one eye, but she was still a rather observant woman. The nervousness of Dominic does not go unnoticed, but it isn’t something she intends to comment on just yet. His nervousness, however, does make her smile a little bit. She doesn’t think of herself as a scary sort, but apparently that wasn’t true. “An honour to meet you,” she said, hand extending to grasp his in a strong yet friendly shake. Her own hand is rough and ungentle from work and war, scarred and tough. “I don’t like to think too much about my name being everywhere,” she said, “and thus I like to pretend it is not! You should too. I’m not that important,” she assured him. “Not important enough to get nervous over, at least.” When asked about the war and getting involved, the knight paused for a moment and looking Dominic over with a rather critical eye. Who was he? “Well, I always welcome those who wish to lend their strength to my cause, but I’m not one to accept those who do not fully understand what is happening or what they’re getting themselves into. War is what you seek?”

Dominic regarded Hildegarde’s comment about nervousness with a weak smile. He exhaled slowly at her question, his green eyes darting off of her face and landing somewhere on the well. He had been bracing himself for this part ever since he’d made the initial decision to try to join up, but that hadn’t made it any easier. Honesty, Dominic. Honesty and vulnerability. The former, he generally didn’t have a problem with -- it was the latter that was difficult, especially right off the bat with a new person. “Sort of,” he admitted. “A purpose, really. I can fight, and… honestly, that’s about all I know how to do.” Or all Brand knew how to do, anyway. He’d been working on that himself, but otherwise, Dominic didn’t feel like he had any special skills at all. He wasn’t looking forward to having to eventually explain the nuances of his... predicament. “Generic manual labor too, I guess. And I know my way around a ship, not that that’s relevant.” He felt like he had to -drag- his eyes back to meet Hildegarde’s one, but he managed it. He shoved his hands into his pockets and rocked on his feet a bit. “I may not understand the finer details, but I’ve heard enough to believe you’re doing a good thing. There’s a shortage of that in the world.”

Hildegarde smiled sympathetically at his words. Too many people in this world felt that their only skill was to fight and that was a sad thing. Too many people did not believe in themselves or their ability to do more in this world and that was truly saddening. “I fight to take Frostmaw back from a tyrant and to protect my people, as well as the realm, to the best of my ability,” she explained, “and I feel it’s important that you hear that from me, rather than from the words of those who think well of me. It is never easy going to war. It is a horrid thing. I hope to spill as little blood as I can, but war is war. Blood will be spilled and the world poorer for it,” she murmured thoughtfully. “But I shall gladly accept your aid, Dominic! Tell me, do you have much experience in battle? How is it you fight? Any special skills?”

Dominic nodded, picking up on her passion. It hadn’t -really- been necessary, but... it was good to hear in her voice that she truly believed what she was saying. “That’s a good philosophy,” he agreed. To her questions, he dropped his gaze again, squinting at her feet. “I-it’s... a bit complicated. And easier if I show you.” One hand pulled out of a pocket, bringing with it a small, ornate rune stone. Hues of blues and greens swirled on its many faces. He squeezed it into a fist and brought that fist close to his chest while closing his eyes. “You might want to finish drawing your water up. I’m going to need you to to strike at me.” A beat, in which he opened one eye again and peered at her. “I’m still -- still working on the whole ‘using this offensively instead of defensively’ bit.”

Hildegarde began to wheel up the water as per Dominic’s suggestion, but she had frowned nonetheless at his comment of striking him. “Why would I want to strike you?” she asked him, “What will happen if I do?” Obviously, she wanted to know if she would come to any harm or if this were perhaps some sort of trick or if she’d be left with something strange to deal with. “Magic, eh?”

Dominic || “Yeah...” Dominic replied, sheepishly. “It’s... shadows? Illusions? Shadowy illusions?” He shook his head; he wasn’t quite sure, only that the stone he held seemed to help. “So far I only make them pop up if… if I’m in danger if I don’t. They’ll deflect things or look real enough to be a distraction so I can get away. Defensive, like I said. They wouldn’t hurt you.” He paused, kicking some errant rock away from him; it ricocheted off of the well and rolled into the grass somewhere. His last words came out in almost a whisper. “Well, one time it killed someone. But I was dead if it didn’t so I -- I don’t think that counts.”

Hildegarde listened to his explanation and considered setting her hand upon his shoulder for comfort, but elected not to in the end. After all, she was but a stranger to him. A stranger who made him nervous all the same. “Very well,” she said softly. “I shan’t fear for my life,” she smiled, “and I look forward to understanding this all the more,” she said, grasping the bucket of cool water and untying the length of rope from its handle before setting it gently on the earth. Some of the cool water cascaded over the rim, but it didn’t catch Hilde’s notice. With the bucket on the earth, she sighed softly and rolled her shoulder a little bit before suddenly dropping low into what would have been a crouch, if it were not for the spin she threw into it: a leg outstretched in an attempt to sweep Dominic off of his feet, before stepping in with a stomp to the belly to wind him.

Dominic || Since this was between friendly combatants, Dominic had been anticipating more of a warning -- a warning he didn’t get. He flew backwards, hitting the ground hard. The whole thing alarmed him enough to do what was needed, though. A translucent shadow appeared and, in an instant, developed into the form of a fit human male, scarred skin and rusted blonde hair, ghostly eyes glinting emerald. As Dominic rolled to the side, the thing intercepted her incoming stomp, grabbing at her leg with the intent of throwing her off her balance. Not enough to seriously injure her, just enough to perhaps throw her on her back, as well. If shadows could do anything to her at all, that is.

Hildegarde was used to the Frostmawian way of throw the punch, don’t talk about the punch! So when Dominic had asked her to hit him, she assumed he would be ready and waiting for a hit at some point rather than waiting for some kind of notice. Such was the Frostmawian way. Savages, surely. Yet as the sudden translucent figure grasps at her leg, she surely gasps but does not allow herself to be thrown off guard. She is heavy, heavier than the average woman. She is brawny and bulky, sheer muscle and plate armour, she is near impossible to throw backwards without significant effort. That being said, however, she peels her leg back and takes an awkward hop back; fists raised up and at the ready in case the translucent being doesn’t cease his advance.

Dominic || The shadow did not, in fact, pursue her, instead content to smirk at her backwards jump. It winked and then dissolved into a fog that wafted away in the breeze. By now, Dominic had pulled himself off the ground and was straightening his clothes, plain garb that looked just slightly too big for his frame. He cleared his throat and then shuffled back towards Hildegarde. “...So yeah, there’s that.” Still no direct mention of Brand. He wasn’t sure how to explain it, and he was even less sure that Brand wouldn’t just be a total jerk to her if they switched. He’d conjured up a scenario in his head where Brand was his usual snarky self, and she told him he was too much of an asshole to be a part of her war band. Go home, wherever passed as ‘home,’ and find some other purpose for life, she’d say. It was a ridiculous scenario, but anxiety wasn’t going to let a pesky thing like rationality stop him from worrying about it.

Hildegarde watched as the thing dissipated away and left her with Dominic. It took her a few moments before she fell back into a relaxed state, obviously she was too experienced in war and battle to just simply shake out of a fight immediately. One had to be prepared for anything, after all. “So, that protects you?” she finally asked once she had relaxed a little more.

Dominic’s eyes flitted away from Hildegarde again, searching for the right phrasing somewhere eastward. “Yeah, he does. More or less. There’s a bit more to it than that but… well, I wouldn’t be standing here otherwise. So yeah, you’ve got the gist of it.” He dropped the rune stone back into his trouser pocket. Did she really, though? The lie by omission was causing him a hard pang of guilt, constricting his airways. He needed to end this soon, or else he was going to burst at the seams from trying to hold back the other details.

Hildegarde offered Dominic a little smile. Perhaps she had detected the uncomfortable nature of the subject or perhaps she thought it merely a useful tool. It was impossible to tell either way. “Well, it is helpful, I’m sure. My camp is situated at the Rolling Hills,” she said gently, “and it’s hard to miss. But, er, you don’t look ready for a war,” she told him but not unkindly. “Here,” she said, taking a pouch of coins and passing it off to him, “don’t argue with me. I want you to buy some supplies for yourself. The right kind of clothing, armour, weapon and rations for a march.”

Dominic stammered at the unexpected gift. “I-- but-- what--” But ‘don’t argue’, she’d said, and obedience was something he was good at. He swallowed back whatever it was he’d been trying to say and instead swung his pack far enough off his shoulder to deposit the pouch into it. “T-thanks,” he murmured, starting to step away. “I’ll make sure it goes to good use. And uh, nice meeting you, again.” Polite, but still awkward.