RP:Red and Silver

Part of the The Dawn of a New Era Arc

Location: Frostmaw Fort Main Room

Synopsis: Brynhild finally makes the journey into frostmaw fort to have a few words with their Queen Hildegarde. The two have a discussion over the state of affairs which plague the world. Despite their differing views on how this should be handled, they part ways without solidifying any allegiance or alliance. Though some views are clarified, while others not so. Hildegarde learns that Dyraxdiin has joined with Brynhild in her cause to bring about a new era.

Red and Silver

Brynhild is not accustomed to dredging herself through the fields of snow. Even if she has done this several times over the last few weeks and discovered other fellow dragons. Two whites to be exact. Regardless, she finds herself tying off her ‘gallant’ steed to a post outside which seems to shrug off the cold better than she. True to her nature as a red, she’s already quelling minor irritation which burns like a fire in her veins. However, she clenches her jaw and stares up at the fort sprawled out before her and takes a deep breath. She wondered what this Hildegarde might be like. Is she closer to the silvers she remembers from the old days? Regardless, Brynhild is pressing through the building in search of the Queen of frostmaw. She takes note of any guards located nearby - casting her cerulean gaze back and forth. Finally what enters the main room doesn’t seem like a dragon at all. For instead, the metal thrum of her armored feet announce a very human countenance, however false this sight is. Drawn up to her impressive height, she draped in mithril half-plate and red tapestries which hang from her form, nearly touching the ground. Heavily gauntleted hands reach up to remove her helm where blonde and braided tresses fall into place. Make no mistake, despite her well crafted guise, she is saurian.

Hildegarde ’s fort is quietly abuzz with activity, as giants, elves, humans and other beings move all around in preparation for Yule. The guards stand at their posts like frozen sentinels: unmoving but forever wary of what may come visit the fort and their Queen. The main hall is the intersection of activity, with great doors to the north that have a sense of purpose and doors to both the east and west. The western door hides the scent of warm food and mead, the eastern door hides the scent of steel and sweat. As Brynhild is given the opportunity to take in the main hall of the fort with its grand tapestries and ancient trophies of Queens and Jarls before Hildegarde, the relative quiet of the fort is interrupted by the riotous laughter of its most unladylike Queen as she barrels through the northern doors – giving Brynhild a peek into the circular, icy throne room – with a rather burly man in her arms. The Queen of Frostmaw is covered in scars; she’s missing an eye and it looks as though a portion of her face had been nearly melted off! The burly man throws a punch towards her gut, but she parries by stepping into it and slipping her arm around his neck to lock him in place. “Yield!” she laughs breathlessly, whilst the man continues to punch at her gut. “Yield, man, you shan’t win!” she tells him. It’s clear the fight is all for fun, as the burly man is also smiling and laughing despite his face losing a little colour at this point. This doesn’t seem to be unusual behaviour for the fort. Nobody is alarmed, everyone seems to be carrying on with their business. It’s clear that Hildegarde is yet to notice Brynhild, given her play-fight.

Brynhild tucks her previously removed helm beneath the pit of her left arm and continues to gaze on over her current surroundings. Ever watchful and calculating; trying to spy anything which might reach out and capture the red. She wondered if all of these trophies belonged to Hildegarde’s own deeds? Out of the entire batch of Dragons she has met thus far, Hildegarde is the only one she had heard rumors of. The Silver, not only is she a Queen, but according to gossip, she was also a knight here. Perhaps there is truth to these things? Either way, Brynhild was growing anxious to meet her and habitually taps the digits of her left fingers against the base of the helm it carries. Though such idle quiet time ends abruptly when those doors swing open and she catches the sight of this poor fool being manhandled. Such thoughts draw a smirk that tugs at the corner of Brynhilds lips momentarily. So, she does fight. Interesting. Without any word to announce her presence, Brynhild turns on heel, heading towards the ruckus. Her impetuous nature and horrid manners wouldn’t have it any other way. The warrioress comes to a stop on the outskirts of said fight waiting for the outcome of this fracas. She might surprise those gathered for she’s suddenly hollering her own verbal jeers and joining the commotion of the room. Seems at times like this she could blend in rather well. It’s only when such frivolities die down that she coughs once, “Queen HIldegarde?” Her tone is riddled with a pride that only a red dragon can spill forth without title or claim.

Hildegarde is at her happiest when she’s in a tussle; when there’s no politics and it’s just pure mettle. The Silver’s arm is tight around her opponent’s neck and he can only wheeze a laugh at this point as she chortles uproariously at the entire situation. Brynhild’s jeering goes unnoticed, but it does spark the jeering of others: a few guards, a few visitors and smallfolk who are taking a moment out of their busy day to enjoy the essence of Frostmaw. Hildegarde’s opponent finally taps at her arm for her to relinquish him, just in time for Brynhild to cough and ask for the queen by name. The Silver releases the man and looks up at Brynhild, a smile on her face but clear unfamiliarity. She doesn’t know her, but she’s friendly; warmer than outside this fort. Hildegarde’s arm reaches out to embrace her former opponent and support him upright, “Rest, friend, I’ll come see you out west soon. Get some food,” she tells him with a pat on the back and a little nudge in the direction of the western doors. The burly man rubs his throat but offers Hildegarde’s shoulder a squeeze before walking towards the western doors. As they open, the scent of fresh bread and roasting meat wafts through the main hall. With her scuffle over, the knight can finally offer Brynhild her full attention. “Greetings, m’lady. I am Hildegarde the Silver,” she offers a polite dip of her head. “Can I help you?”

Brynhild watches the interaction of both victor and loser of this bout. It was a rather rare treat for her which warmed the fire within her, after such a journey into this frozen land, it was a welcome sight. When Hildegarde responds Brynhild takes only a moment. “Perhaps,” her voice is still laced with that same pride. The same arrogance though it is not being used to belittle or berate. It just seems to be a bit of a flaw. “Rather good show you put on there.” She points to the man who rubbed his throat and meandered off. “My names Brynhild.” She finally gets to the point and goes straight into her reasonings for being here, in Hildegardes domain. “In other words, a red Dragon who’s just awakened from a very long slumber.” The word long doesn’t quite fit the bill here, as most see the term as in a few years. It’s been thousands for her. Though Brynhild is a newcomer to these times, it seems that her ways are still ingrained into the very fiber of her being. Whether Hildegarde has heard of Brynhild yet or not, makes little difference to her. The red has heard of Hilde. “I came here to ask you about your opinion on things. And to perhaps have an intelligent discussion with you, if you’d grace me with such. As for the topic of discussion, I’ve been rallying Dragons behind a certain cause.” She seeks to make direct eye contact with Hildegarde, unafraid of her scars and trophies of war etched into her skin. “What do you make of the current state of the world?” It’s an interesting question posed, but valid still.

Hildegarde has no love for arrogance but it is a tone she is accustomed to in this City of War. Many opponents spoke with arrogance in their voices before falling before her, but these thoughts are not quite necessary. Yet. “I am glad you enjoyed it,” she politely replies, offering a friendly smile. As her name is offered, the knight bobs her head in acknowledgement and rapidly begins trying to recall the name and understand how familiar it might be. As Brynhild identifies herself as a red dragon, Hildegarde’s mouth forms a little ‘o’ of understanding. She knew she could smell and sense something, but this completes her understanding now. “I always enjoy an intelligent discussion,” she said with a smile, her interest piqued. Silver dragons were curious, curious as cats. When Brynhild mentions rallying dragons behind a ‘certain cause’, the Silver’s fiery brow twitches upwards for only a moment before resuming a face of polite warm and friendly interest. When asked about the current state of the world, the Silver offers a gentle shrug of her muscular shoulder. “The world is… dark. These are troubling times. The realm has known little peace in these recent years. Darkness seems to be reaching out from every crook and cranny,” it is clear that the Silver is preparing for the worst. “Stability is in short supply.” But it seemed that Frostmaw had stability.

Brynhild doesn’t intentionally mean to come off as rude while speaking with Hildegarde. Nor does she intend to waste her time by beating the devil around a bush. She finds the silvers straight forward demeanor rather refreshing, which helps to quell her own inner turmoil. As for the affairs of the world, they at least agree. “I’ve not been, well, awake for long.” She glances to some of the nearby guards and then back. Taking note of any races which might linger on in her fort. “But have already heard rumor of Larket.” Though she doesn’t know all of the details or if Hildegarde has been personally involved in such affairs. “It would seem that this world no longer seems to seek out balance.” She’s finally getting to the meat of this conversation. “Why do people cling to tyranny when there are better ways?” Her question is further laced towards a specific agenda - which of course is her own. She views most of mortal kind as unable to fend for themselves. No longer possessing the tenacity to stand up and govern themselves like the races of old had tried. “And why is it our kind is so ruthlessly sought out for scales, bones or whatever magical uses people claim these days.” This last comment of hers might not fit in with the current times, as she remembers things differently. She waves a hand as if irritated at the thought. “It seems that you have been accepted here.” Brynhild is referring to how she just had a friendly spar. “Is it because you rule them?”

Hildegarde nods when Brynhild mentions she hasn’t been awake for very long. The dragonsleep was something she had only experienced once before and it was so difficult to wake up from, so she could understand how easy it was to spend centuries in blissful hibernation. At the mention of Larket, however, Hildegarde offers a grunt and shifts her weight slightly from foot to foot before resuming an upright and balanced posture. It was clear that something about Larket had bothered her deeply. As Brynhild continues on with her conversation and posing of what she really wants, the knight’s head tilts as she listens carefully. Tyranny. That was an interesting one. “What is tyranny to some is freedom to others,” she counters politely, “some would accept a tyrant they know rather than a freedom they don’t. Likewise, some might view their ruler as benevolent and all they could ask for… when others view them for a tyrant.” When Brynhild mentions that their kind is sought out for their scales, bones, teeth and all sorts, Hildegarde can only nod solemnly. She knows it all too well. But here they stand with the head of a great grey dragon on the wall. Is it hypocrisy or is there more to it? “No. I have fought by the people. I have fought for the people. That is why I have been accepted here; I have earned my place.”

Brynhild finds that Hildegardes responses are actually to her liking. They both continue to agree on this topic of discussion. However, she zeros in like any predator would on a specific point. “Your words ring true Hildegarde and I couldn’t agree more with your reasonings. You are indeed a good conversationalist and of sound mind, but I would like to ask you one more thing, before I further dive into my reasons for seeking you out.” She lets her words sink in for a moment, this topic can certainly bring about heated discussions. “As a learned person, such as yourself, it’s easy to realize why one of those groups do nothing to stop tyranny. Because we are educated and understand that there are more peaceful ways to exist, is it not our duty to educate them otherwise and stand in for them when they cannot even if it means war?”

Hildegarde can feel Brynhild get to the meat of the matter, as if she’s finally found the thing she came for. “I do not think education merits war,” she replies. “You and I will live a long time, won’t we? Assuming nobody cuts us down in our prime,” she offers a little smile, “we have time to educate others through patience.” The Silver may be the Queen of the City of War; she may be known as Aramoth’s Daughter and the Lady of War, but she didn’t have much love for war itself. She could win a war, she could win a fight: but she didn’t seek out war unnecessarily. “It should be the duty of all to protect those who cannot protect themselves. But that is not always achieved through war.” The Silver looks at Brynhild directly and takes a step towards her, “You have asked many questions. Tell me, Lady Brynhild, what do you want? Do you mean to bring war?”

Brynhild nods to Hildegarde. She has brought many questions, this much she knows. “Patience is something a red lacks. Especially when I know that others suffer without knowing different. That they cannot help themselves. I apologize for hitting you with so many questions, but in a way, yes. I do mean to bring war. Only in so much as if it cannot be helped in any other way.” While the world waits on patience and turning a blind eye to the deeds of those purposefully bringing harm to others, Brynhild mobilizes. “I’ve come to see if there can be any aid found here.” She knows that Hildegarde’s well of patience is probably running dry right about now. “I seek to bring back an Empire long forgotten. With new laws, and a system that actually works for all, not just our kind. I’ve gathered Dragons who agree with creating something new in this world, to bring about a new era. People willing to back a way that rarely exists. Four other dragons in total, beyond just myself. Whether you join or not, is entirely up to you. But I can see that you rule well here, despite a our differing views on one point.” She leaves the other dragons unnamed and for good reason. “So rather than bring war to you, which isn’t my point, I’m seeking your aid.”

Hildegarde looks very briefly exasperated when Brynhild makes it clear she is here to seek aid. The exasperation is gone as quickly as it arrived; Frostmaw and Hildegarde have a history of being asked to deliver aid to those who need it or want the might of Frostmaw behind them. But rather than immediately say no and pass the buck, the knight continues to show patience and listen to what the Red has to say. “Empire,” she murmured in response, “an empire always has someone at its head. An Empress, an Emperor… sometimes both. Who would rule your empire? Would that be you?” Her question posed, the knight follows up with more, “You seek out my aid, why? To have another dragon and another voice behind you? Or to have a kingdom fall in behind you and become part of your empire? The City of War does not bend the knee.” Hildegarde would not see the City burn. But… she has not turned Brynhild away. She’s asking more of her. Surely Hildegarde should have turned her away by now?

Brynhild finds that it is now she that must answer questions, and there will be plenty to come. Of that she’s certain. “Another dragon and their aid wouldn’t hurt. But it isn’t to rule over all of it myself no. Dyraxdiin and I both agree that things should be done differently. As he is my Arbiter, recently joining the cause, and he is another voice among the many. This Empire, for lack of better words, wouldn’t be ruled by me. Instead, by a council. No Empress or Emperor to be found anywhere. Its ruling body made up of those individual races, including dragons, who have flocked to this cause. None holds sway over the other. Truly it is only being called an Empire, because it is I who have started it and four other Dragons who have joined. Many will think its just the old Saurian empire coming back into the world. But indeed, I wish to bring something new even if its brought into existence by Dragons who lead the way. As for Frostmaw bending the knee, I seek no such thing. I do not wish to bring fire and war to a city which is already trying to lead the world as an example. It’s my only hope that I can find allies within it, and to perhaps show another way, by example.”

Hildegarde has managed to get a name out of Brynhild, intentionally or not. “Dyraxdiin,” she repeats, she knows the name and she knows the dragon, “he has wisdom.” At least it wasn’t Gheneroc. Hildegarde truly is at a bit of a loss when it comes to this, however. She can see how useful it might be to have one, uniformed group that presents its idea to the world… but she also sees the danger in that. Didn’t she treat Lionel’s group with scepticism when all it wanted to do was bring peace and light to the world? It seemed more like a global police force that acted as a judge, jury and executioner when required. “I do not know what you will find here, Lady Brynhild, and that is the truth,” she tells the Red with honesty. “You already have dragons behind you. I mean no offense, but I suspect those dragons do not share the responsibilities that I do,” there is humility to her words. Hildegarde does not like to think of herself as better than others, but she understands her responsibilities and knows all too well that few find themselves in a similar position. “I trust you will appreciate if I take time to decide on this. Perhaps further meetings with you or your proposed council of dragons?”

Brynhild proffers a genuine smile to Hildegardes words revealing ivory teeth. “Dyraxdiin is indeed very wise, and has done a very good job with quelling a reds rage.” She’s referring to all of the angst and feistiness that seems born into the very depths of her soul. “You are correct in assuming they do not have your responsibilities. Nor do I.” All of these things are true in Brynhilds mind, even if Hildegardes views end up completely at odds with her own - this discussion needed to happen. “Take as much time as you need.” Her smile drops finally, returning her to the ever stoic visage she always wears. “I do have a few dragons behind these ideas, you’re also right. And if your interested, I will be calling our first summit meeting soon. You are welcome to join and observe further if you wish without having to confirm or deny your aid. But I won’t disturb your day any further,” She offers another smile before donning her helm once more. “Thank you for your time, Hildegarde.” She gives a curt nod of her head out of respect for the person she had just met, and without further words excuses herself from the Queens presence.