RP:Seeking Out the Dragon Knight

The Northern Outpost

Josiah staggers up the pathway, gripping his ragged and apparently homemade fur coat tightly to him in his talons, hood up and head down. The cold was becoming slightly more bearable, or he was losing feeling altogether. He spots Hildegarde and makes his way toward her, trudging slowly through the snow. It was clear he was a newcomer to these lands. He looked like he had been through hell getting here.

Hildegarde, as a trusted wing-leader of the Eyrie, was gently conversing with the elven scout and his beast of choice. She passes a bundle of scrolls to him, clearly waiting for them to be delivered by this elven chap, “Thank you kindly,” she said gently, “there’s no particular rush upon it, but I understand you will be as hasty as ever,” her words were gentle, contrasting her otherwise brutish appearance and disfigured face. As Josiah trudged in her direction, the Silver turned to look upon him: sole eye peering at him in an assessing manner. Clearly, he was new to the lands and perhaps not entirely prepared for the sheer cold. Though, he was somewhat better prepared than most who ventured this far north. “Greetings, sir,” she hailed, with a gentle lift of her halberd, “what can I do for you?”

Josiah squints through the snow flying by his face at the warrior ahead of him. "Greetings," he replied, slightly out of breath. "Are you the one they call Hildegarde?" He was smiling despite his discomfort, and his eyes gleamed with ambition.

Hildegarde gestured ahead, as if inviting the stranger into the Northern Outpost; into the great icy behemoth so that he might at least see better and perhaps feel only a touch warmer. “I am, indeed,” she replied with a friendly smile, “but I do not know who you are. What is your name, stranger? Step inside, you might find some relief from the snow.”

Josiah advanced quickly, pleased to get out of the wind for a moment. He dropped his hood, revealing white warrior braids and bright blue eyes. He extended a taloned hand to her, and smiled warmly. "I am called Josiah," He said. Hildegarde extended her own hand in return, clasping Josiah’s for a firm shake of the hand. “An honour to meet you, I’m sure,” she said gently, eventually releasing his hand so she might wave off the Elvish scout. The elf offered a curt nod and immediately mounted his flying companion, speeding out of the Northern Outpost with minimal effort. “So, what brings you here? Why seek me out?”

Josiah looks Hildegarde in her eye. "I hope I haven't come at a bad time," he began. "I was told I may be able to receive training here...from the best. Satoshi sent me." He looks exhausted but exhilarated. He had finally made it all the way here.

Hildegarde can only assume that Josiah means training in combat, for Frostmaw is the City of War: this is the City built on combat and fighting, where champions were born and made. “Well, Frostmaw is certainly host to many great fighters and warriors alike,” she remarked gently, never saying she was the best for that was not something she truly believed in. “You wish to learn to fight, then? Or is there more to it?” He smelled bird-like. Perhaps he was a winged man, come to join the Eyrie. He would not be the first.

Josiah nods quickly. "I'd like to train in anything you can help me improve," he said. "I am indeed Avian, but...never learned to fly." He looked ashamed. "But I'd also like to learn how you fight in Frostmaw...I was told you were the one to find.

Hildegarde shrugged her shoulder, “There is no shame in not learning how to fly,” she reassured him, offering a gentle smile to go with her words. “We can remedy this, considering that flight can be an advantage in battle, particularly using your wings to disable opponents by kicking up dust and dirt. Usual tactics,” she explained with a dismissive wave of her hand; other hand briefly flexing around the shaft of her halberd. “Fighting in Frostmaw, though…” she shrugged again, the motion fluid and quickly becoming something else as the Steward of Frosmaw leaned forward and forced her body in a forward roll, Stormbringer swinging in a wide arc towards Josiah’s legs to sweep him off of his feet; but the weapon continues the motion, sweeping in that arc and now swinging down with the axe-blade ready to split his skull open like a ripe watermelon.

Josiah looks up at Hildegarde with a big grin on his face. "I would love to learn how to do that," he said, unthreatened and almost childlike with wonder. "Will you take me on for the time being? I have little to offer...but I may consider joining your clan once all is said and done."

Hildegarde’s weapon is only a mere breath away from his face, it is through her will and mastery of her skills that she has not sliced his head in twain. “Doing that might be a little more complex with your wings, but we’ll strengthen you,” she offered, pulling the halberd back and standing upright, only to lean down and offer him a hand to help him up. “It all depends on what weapon you might prefer, too.” The Silver paused, “My training is not all about combat. I would wish to know you first, to understand who you are before I try to show you how to kill a person,” she explained. “You are agreeable to this?”

Josiah nods seriously, still smiling. "Whatever it takes," he said.

Hildegarde said to Josiah, "Very well. Go to the tavern, get a good warm meal in you. Then you can find me when you're ready."

Josiah grins and nods, then pulls his hood back up and heads for the tavern.