RP:The Phantom Archer
Part of the Thy Kingdom Come Arc
Summary: Hildegarde is enjoying the shade of the Gualon Gardens, taking a little break from her plotting and scheming to regain Frostmaw in order to enjoy the shade and escape the oppressive heat of the swamp. Here she encounters Alex and a face she never expected to see again: Orikahn. In blind fury, the knight tackles Orikahn to the ground and challenges him to a contest of archery in order to prove that she is not a phantom as he seems to think she is. Succeeding in convincing him of her regained mortality, the dragon and cat agree to talk in the grogshop.
Gualon Gardens
Hildegarde was finding it difficult to acclimatise to the heat of Gualon. The swap had an oppressive temperature, making her sorely miss the sweet chill of Frostmaw and the more temperate shade of Xalious. But Gualon was where she needed to be, Gualon was the safest place possible for her right now and for the people of Xalious; the further away Hilde was from the town, the better for the people. She could not risk Balgruuf attempting to strike at her through them. Yet here she was, enjoying the shade of the Gualon gardens with Rohk accompanying her. The orc was strange company, but she certainly found it to be enjoyable. He had a gruff exterior but when alone he proved to be quite the capable conversationalist. “I do not mean to drag you into a war,” she told him apologetically as they found a spot to sit, “but Tristram is my only ally with a real army.”
Orikahn is doing his best to travel incognito. Though the sabercat is a fellow of many distinct features (not least among which, his recent occular addition) he's managed to conceal most of them under his armor. Behind his visor, beneath the plates and greaves and gauntlets, he could almost be mistaken for one of Gualon's many battle-savvy orcs. His hide cloak is far too obvious a giveaway, so he's opted for a cape instead, just something to at least partially conceal his bushy tail. With tomahawk, bow, quiver, pack and purse, he strolls through the town, an armored behemoth passing through the city on his long march southward, southward, southward. The north is not yet far enough behind him.
Alex is located a few benches down from Hildegarde and Rohk, conversing with a scruffy, dirty and weathered old orc about something irrelevant and occasionally checking over his shoulder before handing a small brown pouch filled with various coins to the elder in exchange for a small supply of narcotic powder. A slight nod is given to the orc before the bard slaps his shoulder twice in a mock of good friends saying their goodbyes before turning on his heel to make his escape when his soft blue eyes catch sight of Hildegarde and stare from behind heavy black bags outlining them, he wasn't expecting to see the recently undeceased knight again so soon. An idle hand moves to press down tangled greasy hair into a semi-orderly fashion awaiting acknowledgement to join or make his retreat, not wanting to interrupt them without permission granting he didn't know her companion.
Hildegarde listens to Rohk’s quiet and expected reply; his people yearn to fight and they enjoy the bloodletting so they’re quite happy to help! “Remind me to write again to Josleen,” she asked of her companion with a tiny nod of her head, as if it were somehow an important factor to this impending war. As Rohk nods in compliance, his eyes cast around the garden and spy the staring Alex. His green fingers reach for the hatchet he keeps at his belt, “Friend or foe?” he asks of Hildegarde in a gruff but quiet voice. Her fingers touch his forearm to still him, “A good friend,” she assured him as she rose to her feet and offered him a smile. “Alex,” she greeted, waving him over to join her. Of course, it once she has waved Alex over to join her that the mostly disguised Orikahn comes trudging past. Would he even recognise Hildegarde out of her armour? Her cotton tunic and trousers certainly made her look a little less bulkier than before, but would the missing armour make her unrecognisable? It doesn’t matter. Hildegarde recognises that traitorous tail and she knows who exactly it is attached to, the fiendish feline! Maybe Hildegarde tried to go with words, but nothing came forth apart from a hideous shrieking growl of fury as the knight physically launched herself at the passing feline in an effort to tackle him to the ground. He wouldn’t get away this time!
Orikahn takes notice neither of Hildegarde nor of Alex. Frankly, he didn't expect to run into anyone that would recognize him here. Eyes ahead, he trudgea onward until that shriek of fury strikes his ears. His first reaction is simple; he turns and braces himself, ready to play the weight game and match his mass for the mass of whatever oncoming assailant might come. Dropping his stance and resting his weight on his back leg, he turns his visited face to spot... Hildegarde. His blood runs cold. Is this some sort of trick? An accursed vision come to torment him? No matter. She tackles him full on. Kahn yowl. Rolling with the blow, he lands on his back and rocks his weight onto the square of his shoulders and folds his legs double. If he can get his soles against her body, he'll kick a mighty shove, hoping to propel his assailant away before she can realize a good grip. Otherwise, should this tactic fail, Hildegarde will still have to deal with thrashing, scratching, and pounding. "Away," he cries, "away!"
Alex feels a wave of relief wash over him as Hildegarde beckons him over, the racing of his heart stalling only to pick right back up after he takes three steps forward when the knight launches herself onto Orikahn. A raised brow provided to Rohk as he moves into a sprint towards the physically quarreling couple sliding onto his rump with both legs stretching out to slam the soles of his boots into Orikahn's shoulders and reaching out with his hands to grab the feline's wrists and pull them towards himself to disarm two limbs from assaulting the aggressive knight.
Hildegarde, fortunately, has friends on her side. The kick to the gut sends her sprawling, but it leaves room for Rohk to intervene and grasp at the wriggling and resisting feline. The knight wheezes as she gets back up to her feet, “I’m not here to kill you, though I’m well within my right to!” she hissed. “It was your treachery that endangered my people, your treachery that had me killed!” she reminded the cat. “You’re going to sit still and you’re going to listen to what I have to say, do you understand?”
Orikahn puts up a pretty frenzied fight, but numbers count for a lot, and soon the sabertooth discovers himself outmatched. Feeling the many hands upon him, his thrashing gradually ceases. Through the narrow slots of his visor, it's difficult to see any of the cat's expressions or tell what he might be thinking; only the faint glow of three green eyes can be distinguished. Hildegarde can feel them pointing at her. Even as she speaks, Orikahn will continue to periodically test Alex and Rohk's hold, giving them the ol' rope-a-dope as he tries to catch their grip at a weak moment and pull an arm free. Being here, like this, is not at all what the hunter had expected, nor is it what he wishes. How very satisfying it would be right now to lay one good punch across Alex's jaw and make a clean getaway. "I saw you die," the cat rebuts, "malign vision. Cruel phantom!"
Alex is absolutely the weakest link out of the four present individuals involved in the scuffle though thanks to his recent stress and substance abuse he's exhibiting a great buff in physical strength and somehow manages to keep a tight hold on the frightened (or angry) feline. This feat within itself seems to be impressing the human as his eyes are widened to an unnatural point and he rapidly adjusts his vision from Rohk to Orikahn to Hildegarde and then back again, with each jerk from his captured victim the human stretches himself further and further until he's at his maximum hold ready to pop Ori's shoulders out of their sockets his muscles flexing like mad as his grip on the sabertooth's wrists tightens until his knuckles become white from the pressure. He opts to remain silent and let those who know what the hell is going on do the talking, after all, the bard seems to be the only citizen of Frostmaw who's never met Orikhan or hold knowledge of his betrayal.
Hildegarde shook her head, “Yet you felt me tackle you, I am no phantom,” she explained. The knight waited a moment before looking to Alex, “Let him go and take a step back,” she instructed the bard, bidding Rohk to do the same. “You fled Frostmaw. How? Wouldn’t you have been held prisoner what with your hand in my death?” the knight asked of the feline, seemingly quite happy to risk him fleeing off into the sunset. “If you need proof that I am no phantom nor illusion, then you can have it. What about a contest of archery?”
Orikahn can't really deny Hildegarde's point. She tackled him, she's speaking to him, and there are others here who are listening to her. Kahn's "phantom" conjecture is seeming increasingly baseless. Much to his surprise, the hunter then finds himself released, and he's perhaps a little too quick to stand, jerking away the moment the opportunity affords itself and leaping to his feet. He rolls his shoulder and tries to rub at it through the plates of his pauldrons. "A contest?" The moment was surreal enough already, but now Kahn's definitely going to see how deep this rabbit hole goes. Hildegarde, upon first reunion, suddenly alive and leagues from Frostmaw, has challenged him to a show of marksmanship. "Who's testing who, now?" Orikahn growls back, rolling his shoulder once more. With an unfamiliar bow and a bad shoulder (exacerbated by Alex's forceful restraint), the hunter can hardly promise his best performance, but he still looks willing to try. The tiger draws and strings his bow, eyes never leaving the steward.
Alex is quick to release Orikahn when told and picks himself up a tad bit slower than the feline and the pain in his own shoulders and hands becomes very apparent as he rubs his palms together while looking at Hildegarde with a look of confusion. Why the hell had she tackled someone just to challenge them to a archery competition? Was he still under the influence or something? This entire scene made no sense to him but he still opted to keep his lips tight while looking to Rohk for some kind of reassurance that all of this was making sense to someone.
Hildegarde had clocked the look of confusion from Alex, but she had no time to explain to him her reasoning. Besides, best to pin the cat so he can’t sprint off and hide from her. Plus he was partially responsible for her death… surely she could feel some anger towards him? “A contest to prove to you that I am not a phantom, that I am real and true,” she said as Rohk passed her a bow. It wasn’t a brilliant bow but a functional one. The Silver accepted an arrow from Rohk and knocked it to her bow, drawing it back in preparation. “Those hanging fruits,” she nodded at a distant tree, “knock one down, as close to the centre as you can,” she instructed.
Orikahn reaches up into his hood to unfasten the buckles of his visor, hurriedly unclipping them one by one until the metal mask falls to the ground, revealing his face. The three-eyed sabercat wears a look of stony concentration; he's been challenged, and it's plain that he's rising to it. Now that he can see clearly, he adjusts his stance, settling into a comfortable shooting position as he knocks an arrow. His long pink tongue licks over his nose and the slick sides of his saber fangs, and he swallows audibly, flexing his jaw as he slowly, fluidly raises his bow. All eyes open, he picks his fruit, and with a clean "tng!" the bowstring snaps, and an arrow sings, piercing a pear through and carrying it a few feet to pin the unlucky fruit to the tree's trunk. Kahn lowers his bow and cranes his neck curiously, eyeing his hit and making no comment.
Alex stares at Orikahn in a mix of admiration, wonder and absolute disgust. This is the first feline the human has seen during his time in Hollow and something is knocking against his brain proclaiming that this probably isn't what they all look like, what with three eyes and absolutely massive fangs, he was -just- holding that thing. Thoughts of Orikahn chewing a hole through his torso lay claim to the bard's mind as he grows paranoid that the sabertooth might turn that bow on Hildegarde, Rohk or himself at any moment and an audible sigh of relief is given when he actually takes aim for the fruit and successfully knocks it against the tree. His attention turns to Hildegarde now, those blues eyes of his flashing to a certain area of the tree twice in a rapid twitch like motion directing her to take a look where she would find two of the fruits lined up for a collateral shot if she were well enough to make it.
Hildegarde glanced at that third eye but didn’t allow her gaze to linger. Staring was rude, after all, and she had more important things to focus upon. Her arm had relaxed as Orikhan stepped up to the challenge and fired his arrow with expert skill. She wonders if his feline eyes – and supernatural eye – can determine how close to the centre his arrow has struck. The knight waits a moment before stepping up to the plate: now it was her turn to fire. Inhaling deeply, the woman draws the bowstring back and takes aim. It’s not as if she needs to close an eye in order to better her focus or her aim, she only has the one eye. The knight waits. She waits and waits as the breeze gently winds through the garden before finally firing the arrow when all is still. A ‘thump’ and ‘twang’ can be heard as the arrow makes contact with the fruit and then wiggles from its position against the tree. “Shall we go investigate and discern the winner?” she asked Kahn, not daring to look at Alex. It was almost as if he and Rohk weren’t even there, she played it cool.
Orikahn throws the bystanders a moody glance, uncertain as to what role they might play as the scenario continues unfolding. He certainly can't trust either of them. Stooping down, he cautiously snatches his visor back up off the ground and tucks it into his pack. "Yes," the cat answers in a low growl, quickly straightening to begin walking downrange and toward their target. Once they're several paces along, he'll mutter over to the dragon. "You never named your stakes."
Alex has a crooked uncomfortable smile pulling at the edges of his lips as Orikahn looks at him, his eyes immediately diverting to the ground to acknowledge that the sabertooth is the superior of the two. After the two of them begin their descent down the path to their marks, the human takes a stand by the orc that had accompanied Hildegarde here, "So, uh, come here often? Alex. Bard of Fr... Well, bard." a hand extending to offer a formal shake to Rohk, "Mind telling me what the hell's going on right now?"
Hildegarde walks alongside Orikahn, her body language expressing that she didn’t feel threatened at that precise moment. “I never said there were any stakes. I believe I said I’d prove to you I was not a phantom,” she said with a little smile, “and have I not done that by wielding a bow and arrow?” As they pass by the flower and fauna and approach the tree, the knight gestures to the perfectly pierced pear. “Expert marksmanship,” she commended the feline. “That extra eye must be a boon,” whether that was an insult or not was unclear, but Hildegarde’s tone of voice had remained friendly. “And as you can see, not so expert marksmanship. I am no expert with a bow and if I was here to haunt you, I would be an expert so as to further antagonise you, wouldn’t I?” she asked, gesturing to her two pears pinned against the tree; the arrow not near the centre at all.
Orikahn arrives with Hildegarde at the tree and folds his arms over his chest, letting the unstrung bow rest in the crook of his elbow. "Hmm." He studies the two arrows lodged in the tree. "Two to my one." Reaching up, the cat plucks his own arrow out of the bark with a grunt of exertion, eyeballing the pear before making a sort of disgusted face and pulling the arrow free with a juicy 'schlick'. He discards the fruit, unwanted. "I can't argue," the cat concedes. "You're here, though I don't know how." Eyes slide over to the steward, roving over her as if for further confirmation. "I expected to meet you, but not like this." He wipes the arrow clean on the hem of his cape. "More like when my head had rolled off the chopping block." The cat's teeth grit as he requivers the arrow, and he throws another look back at Alex and the orc. "What happens now?"
Hildegarde’s companion finally relaxes. He was tense during the stroll, to the point that he had ignored Alex, but now that he can see Orikahn is not going to launch at Hildegarde just yet he feels as though he can now reply and does so by leaning over to whisper in Alex’s ear. The Silver, however, only smiled at Orikahn. “Leone resurrected me. Divine magic brought me back,” and some technical knowhow that she doesn’t quite fully understand nor wish to truly understand. “But I have no desire to kill you,” she said. “I… As much as I am angry and hurt by your deeds, I recognise your skill and talent and know that I am in need of it. Your Savage Queen is done, my friend. I would welcome your service and true aid to Frostmaw, if you would give it. I will not make you.”
Orikahn mulls over Hildegarde's explanation and its many implications. She goes on, and Kahn is silent for some time. Looking up, he seems to consider the rustling leaves above them, down, to consider the circle of shade the fruit tree casts around them. "We have a lot to discuss," he simply concludes. His gauntlets flex, and the hunter takes a deep, cleansing breath, gaze lifting to sweep around the garden, avoiding the steward. "A lot to discuss." Well, he made it as far south as Gualon. That's not too bad, being as wanted as he is. Looking southward, he wonders what new life it might have been out there; no matter, for it's just one more discarded possibility, and he'd gotten pretty good at letting go of lost chances by now. "The grogshop here in town caught my eye. I didn't stop in."
Hildegarde nodded in agreement at Orikahn’s comment. She believed that they did have much to discuss. “Then let’s do that over some grog, eh?” she asked with a little smile, clasping her hand upon his shoulder in what could be interpreted as a sign of forgiveness.
Orikahn doesn't really know how to handle the clasping hand, but he doesn't jerk away, so that's good enough, right? "Mmm. Yes," he manages something of a reply, voicing his concurrence. Stashing his bow away, he begins walking to return to the path. Well, with Hildegarde escorting him, there isn't much need to put that visor back on, is there? He pulls his hood down, too. It was getting quite warm under all that cover, and a drink will do him very well.