RP:Stay Frosty

Summary: Accordingly to Hildegarde's kind invitation, Thamalys climbs his way up to frosty Frostmaw, anxious and lost in equal measure because of the recent battle he took part into and the scarce directions he possesses - respectively. While trying to catch his breath in the courtyard, the Avian is approached by Raphaline, with whom he exchange some quick - if rather awkward - words leading the Blue to appreciate the inner gardens of the fort.

Frostmaw: Walled Courtyard

Thamalys laid on one of those long -if definitely frosty - benches decorating the impossibly odd-looking green yard. Seated, sprawled in fact against the icy stone, the Blue was definitely not at his best, panting heavily while trying to catch his breath, his left hand rubbing what clearly was a rather battered rib on his right side. Black leather wrapping his long legs, the rest of him was clad in mithril and steel, barely disguised below the loose, once probably white shirt covering much still of his tattooed skin, the dark-blue ivy shaped ink running in knotty patterns all across his body. The solid blue gaze of the Avian was presently nailed on the bulky shape of an halberd resting on the very ground, still as his face, the latter partially covered by a heap of ivory braids falling untidily from his head. Clearly enough, Avians were not meant to be excellent climbers after all - and yet, he only had a tiny piece of parchment with him to guide through forest and mountain up to this city, so alien to him - not much of a choice in the end, even for a winged being as such. Huffing and puffing, Thamalys eventually produced said piece of paper, studying its details as if trying to locate some specific spot before staring for a brief moment to his own feet, comically lacking any sort of footwear. So focused he was in contemplating his own battered features, so bewildered by the mere fact of standing within the walls of Frostmaw, the Avian would have not notice a Giant tumbling right in front of him.

Raphaline spends many of her days here in Frostmaw and most importantly the fort. Even with peace treaties signed, she has been well aware of the consensus and feelings of the Frostmawian folks in regards to Larket and their obvious military presence. Today though, she is trying to find quiet moments to herself while she debates over a few but very huge choices for her future. Garbed in fur-lined cloak, green tunic and brown leathers, she looks more so a traveler rather than the beguiling bard she is infamous for being. As she rounds her way out of the interior region of the fort and into the outward courtyard region, her emerald eyes fall upon an unusual sight. Her brows furrow as she notices the figure (unfamiliar and yet not) and tenses up just a bit. Who has chosen to wander into the fortress? Quietly, she makes her way down the path, gaze never flickering from the figure until she is standing before him, both hands on her hips. She notes the white hair, the weapon and then the lack of awareness for his surroundings. Perturbed, she allows her voice to carry across the courtyard. “Why are you out here with no shoes? You will lose your feet to frostbite if you are not care,” she says, her dulcet tones reflecting her confusion grandly.

Thamalys sharply rose his head, so swiftly in fact that for a moment he threatened to lose his balance - a rather common occurrence in his clumsy case. Quite taken aback from the abrupt question, he spent a solid moment to try and label the features of the Bard. Did that figure ring some bell at all? Possibly, but he did not have time enough to consider that further, so off he went, dipping his head to the right just a tiny bit, a gesture halfway between surprise and courtesy. "Oh. Greetings, ma'am. Why am I... oh, I see..." he stuttered, not too soon realising that trudging barefooted into the snow was more than enough to raise an eyebrow. Cracking something not too dissimilar from a timid smile, the Blue continued "No need to worry about my feet, m'lady. As you can see, they look perfectly fine still, even though I've been ruining myself by climbing up this icy mountains all day. It's a neat preparation, you see, just a tiny bit of mint, then a few drops of.. oh, but I am forgetting manners, here. Apologies". He would have stopped the long speech already, subsequently leaping to his feet and hinting a proper bow, so utterly graceless as per the presence of those massive wings of his, unfurled, sure, and yet so out of measure compared to the skinny rest of him. "I go by the name of Thamalys, ma'am. May I be so bold to ask for yours?" Thus he would have questions, his eyes darting quickly back and forth, though, from the stunning presence in front of him to the much more bare appearance of his halberd at his feet. Not exactly proper, he started to realise...

Raphaline eyes the odd avian as he speaks rather quickly. Either very friendly, or otherwise nervous, she decides in regards to his mannerisms. Once he makes his greeting and then asks for hers, it is only then that the bard speaks up once more. She offers a gloved hand to the avian with a Cheshire grin, “Raphaline.” While he was speaking she started combing through her memories for why this fellow looked so familiar when she was able to get a good look at him; he was at the battle of the bridge. Rather than say she knows him, she chooses to offer her real name rather than one of her many nicknames, in hope to garner whether or not he knew who she was. For now, she leaves any mention of the fight out of their conversation. “It is quite difficult to reach this place, so, I am curious as to what brings you into these frosty lands, we don’t get many tourists.”

Thamalys accepted that hand and shook it maybe a tiny bit too strongly, only to let it go definitely a bit too briskly once he heard that name. Oh, he knew that name quite well, as many a Larketian wished all manners of slow and painful death - or worse - to the Bard that day on the Bridge. Nonetheless, he had no reason to distrust her, as in fact he had no reason to take Larket's side at all, but for an oath swore to a dear friend. His heart racing fast, thudding wildly into his tattooed chest, the Blue would have gladly jumped on Raphaline's train of thoughts. As such, taking a couple of long steps toward the left, as if casually measuring the distance, he tried to put together some sort of answer. "It is - very - difficult indeed to reach this place, ma'am. I would have flown, obviously, but I did not really know where to go. You see, a tourist definitely I am not. The Queen herself, who I had the mighty pleasure to meet very recently, in fact, invited me in here so that I could take a look to the many tomes - about herbs and herb lore, to be precise - lying somewhere in the City..." he went on, gesturing with both arms as if trying to embrace the extent of the yard itself, clearly not really knowing where to look. "Would you know where exactly I should look? Not many people around, if I may daresay... I saw a couple only along my way, and they scampered away too quickly for me to even try and ask. Well, that did not really help, I guess..." he concluded while pointing a bony finger to the pointy mass of wood and steel only a meter away or so. In truth, he was utterly scared by the possibility of being recognised as somebody who had recently contributed to slaughter quite a number of the inhabitants of that very cold place.

Raphaline recognizes, but does not speech as much. The corner of her lips curls up as she notices the slight differences to his mannerisms when she mentioned her name. Rather than show her own hand, she nods back towards the western entrance of the fort. “Down that hall, make a left and then a right and you will reach the fort library.” She allows her eyes to focus on the door for a moment more before turning to him, her brows knit as she wonders what he might want to know about the few herbs here. “There are a few gardens here too. Strange flowers in two different places. Have you gone to take a look at them yet?”

Thamalys digested the information, his wings twitching already as if eager for him to move on and fulfil the errand. "Thank you, Raphaline the Helpful, albeit trivial to you, these are much coveted directions for a stranger such as myself". However, the notion of more floweret to look upon, to analyse, to possibly take a sample from... too much a temptation for him to resist. "No, not really, not yet, ma'am..." he began, shaking his head ever so slightly, those knotty braids of him oscillating accordingly, his solid blue gaze already trying to look beyond her shoulders. Not that he knew where to go - once more. "In fairness, I would have never imagined to find something blooming in this place. Surely some magic is at work in here?" Hinting, poking, trying to probe the sangfroid of the Bard, before curiosity took his toll again. "Anyhow, maybe you would be so kind to chaperone this rather lost Avian along those gardens you were mentioning? If other matters do not require your presence as well, that is."

Raphaline quirks a brow, rather surprised he wants her to escort him to the library. Not one to be rude, she is quick to settle up to his right side, slip a hand into the crook of his arm and then give him a small tug. “Well then, come along then. I can show you where all the books on herbs can be found.” The bard turns towards the western door, and with an air and pull of confidence, she moves towards the door and then once more in the hallway. The guards in the halls tip their head in recognition. She makes one turn and then the next before reaching a rather ornate door. With a click of the handle, the bard reveals a small, but resolute library. “Over there, close to the window on the left.” She releases him and head in the other direction, eyeing a few of the books tucked into the shelves on armor.

Thamalys had very little choice in the matter of following or not the rather resolved Bard, and truth be told, he could have imagined much worse companies. Very little time to comment about anything at all, he opened his mouth as to utter something, only to shut those grey, thin lips and proceed to keep the pace. He would have found the time to mutter some sort of salutation toward the guards, though, last thing he wanted to do was to manage to upset them by any means. "Ah, so this is it, then..." he eventually voiced when the queer pair arrived in sight of the stacks of paper and leather - not many, but wisdom is all about quality as opposite to quantity after all - towering near by. He certainly intended to get back to those, once he finished with the inner gardens. Who could have imagined anything on the sort by looking at the frightening exterior of the Frostmawian fort? But for now, it is time for the feathery Blue to leave the company of the Bard, a small gesture offering to her while directing his massive shapes toward the corridor, trying not to knock over anything - it would have not been the first time. "Your kindness I will surely remember, o Raphaline. Much indeed I have heard about you, and yet I shall tell you that I do feel safe enough to leave my halberd in the snow, o Bard, even in your company." Such he would have spoken, already halfway to the corridor, only to cover what does remain of the distance in few, long, graceless strides, a silly tune caressing the silence. "The Queen has sent her singer // To wreck a wooden bridge // Achoo! Achoo! We all fall down! // The Avian upon the steeple // Flies high above the people // Achoo! Achoo! We all fall down..." He already cared so little about everything else, his gaze and thoughts already classifying the knowledge ahead.

This RP is linked to: RP:The Silver and The Blue - A tale of Foxglove and Wisdom and RP:Battle for the Bridge