Allegiance to Prejudice

[Naadia Demici]

The rustling of the multicolored leaves covering the forest floor announced yet another change of season in the northern lands where winter started early and finished late. The amber hued eyes had witnessed this natural modus operandi for the twenty fifth time this year, the dislike of the metamorphosis the environment underwent only growing with time. Nature readied itself for hibernation and even despite the perennial revival the spring brought, Naadia always saddened to see flowers slowly wither after the harvest was done.

Thus she could not also understand the individuals who could inhabit such a frosty climate, let alone build a city in such a place. The mountains provided the much desired highground for Carrania, its tactical position being an object of pride for the House of Nalju. However, the temperatures and precipitation were not favorable for anything else but mining and manifacture, with little resource and time left for anything else. In Naadia’s eyes, Carrania was nothing else but a lair of ignorance, reigned by Lord Nalju via an iron fist, a place where only the law of the sword would be enforced. Despite all these rebukes she had about their constitution and way of life, she again found herself dwelling their lands in search of understanding. Yes, both Demici and Nalju houses inhabited the same planet, but they were as adverse as two societies get. The House of Demici, on the other hand, prided themselves in the arts and sciences, philosophy and mathematics, light agriculture and fine crafts. Indeed, in the southern regions, life was on the streets, in theaters and concerts, on exhibitions and public lectures. Saffia was a city of patrons and the place Nadia called home.

So why did the bronze skinned woman leave the shores of Allafa Ocean and her books, to roam the wilderness of the Jotun forest, the vast expanse of woodland reigned by the House of Nalju? Perchance to observe them and thus get to know them, to comprehend them and maybe begin to tolerate them? Or was it sheer curiosity fueled by her restless spirit? The truth was – it was little of both.

All of the moral perplexities aside, all mortal beings needed to eat, the rumble of the empty stomach making it impossible to even hear one’s own thoughts. Thus Naadia reached for her bow that hung from her back, next to the leather quiver bearing a handful of arrows and searched the fern covered perimeter looking of prey. The sudden whir in the shrubbery suggested that a rabbit could be near; a roast even Naadia could not complain about. Carefully pulling the string of the bow, she inserted an arrow and aimed where she supposed the rodent would be. The mere whoosh of arrow scared the rabbit away, as it raced out of the bushes and deeper into the forest, quickly meandering through the maze of treetrunks to rid itself of its predator. Naadia cursed inside herself in all eleven languages she was fluent in and having no other option but to follow it if she wanted lunch, the young woman sprinted, the brown cape with the emblem of the House of Demici flagging behind her. Her efforts would have been futile if the rabbit had not slipped and rolled on the floor, with Naadia using it to arch her bow once again and hit this time. For a scholar, she was indeed quite dexterous with the bow, much to the surprise of anybody who knew her; but she was all alone here, with nobody to judge her, thus she could indulge in the savagery she thought was reserved only for the House of Nalju. Pacing over to collect her kill, she smiled widely, bending to grab the rabbit by its hinder legs. Lifting it up in the air and inspecting it, she nodded to herself and strapped her prey to her belt.

‘’It is too bad I did not take a pot to turn you into stew. But you shall make fine lunch nevertheless.’’ the brunette said and then looked ahead, noticing a clearing, the sound of flowing water reaching her ears. The inquiring mind was set loose once again; feeling drawn by the sound of aquatic tumult and the underlying sound of splashing, Naadia headed forward in the softest of steps not to attract attention – after all, she was on enemy ground.

[Einar Gudleifer]

“We have something on our scanners.”
“Uh, roger, we have it too. It’s to small to be a vehicle.”
“Maybe Demici recon?”
“Possible, uh, we’ll send a few men to check it out. It’s too close to our communications array.”
“I’ve got it.”
“Alright, I’ll tell the rest of your unit.”
“I said I’ve got it.” The door to the Nalju battle room hissed shut with angry finality.

The cold months were setting in and everything, but the men of Nalju, was starting to make the seasonal preparations. Soon the snow would come and blow so hard it broke windows at times, but the soldiers of House Nalju were tough, mountain men; They could stand the cold that turned their beards to ice and split the skin. But for now the season threw damp, chilling, mist laden air at Carrania and her Count. It was the damp that Einar didn’t like. It chilled him for days at a time and no matter what he tried it clung to his bones with intent to harm. The armor helped a little at first but he knew by the time he got up to the mountain side communications array it would only serve as a portable sauna.

Serve, a bitter word in his mouth. The word set him in a foul humor which only worsened as the ride through the mountains on horseback allowed time to brood. What was the point of his armor if it didn’t do anything but make him sweat? The count had money, that’s what it all boiled down to. He was a good man, a strong leader, but he replaced his “soldiers” as they fell and spent even more money on making them look good. Einar was a soldier, one of the fighting men of House Nalju. He should have had his own house since he was, by blood, a- his thoughts shifted suddenly – And the Count’s son! He was a well tempered man. Funny, at times, and with a battling intellect but it was that feature that set him apart. He should have been a Demici the way he carried on about art.

After arriving at the array Einar spent the next few minutes eyeing the ground around the array for recent activity, there was none. The men on duty saluted him, their Master at Arms, but were otherwise cranky. Back onto his horse and back across the mountains to Carrania, though he allowed himself a detour. A small creek that spilled over from a hot spring a few hundred yards up the mountain side tumbled over a miniature slate cliff, creating a waterfall just over seven feet high, and into a warm wading pool. The armor was shed in favor of a dip into the pool. His hair, long and gold in color, he tried not to get wet and it fell forwards over his face as he stood under the waterfall. The hot water was a luxury as it slipped over his shoulders, down his smooth chest and back, crashing into the water below. That smooth skin was a side effect of why he was in House Nalju. A loud ironic laugh echoed in the forest around him as he tossed back his head in mirth; Two long white teeth flashing in the dappled sunlight. He would probably spend the rest of his life in the House. His original cause a lost one, and slim chance of ever continuing to peruse it like he had been instructed. As his eyes dragged downward from the sky he noticed a discoloration in the forest nearby, a third membrane flicked over his eyes and he took a step forward to try and get a better view of what was there. It was probably nothing, but then again…nothing didn’t move.

[Naadia Demici]

Slightly leaning behind a treetrunk, with neck extending to take a better look, the young woman accidentally tripped over and stumbled forwards, her boot landing on a pile of twigs that cracked instantly. The sound that was made could have easily been mistaken for a forest animal, but judging by the familiarity of the sight that had met her eyes, the person she was spying on was trained to know when they were being watched. The great distance between them ensured that little of his bare skin was to be seen, except for his golden hair that glimmered under the shower of sun rays pervading though the thick evergreen canopy that towered around the small clearing that hosted the waterfall and the wellspring. But one was evident - this man was obviously a member of the House of Nalju, if one would judge by the armor he had left on the shore and the tenacious steed that was left to pasture while waiting for it's master to take a bath.

Already short of breath, Naadia stepped back, adrenaline rushing through her body, but she failed to command her legs to run at first.
''By the gods... Run! If he catches you, he will deal with you in a way only a Nalju does!'' she muttered under her breath, pressing her lips together. If he was indeed a Nalju, she would stand no chance of escape, the speediness of her feet being no match to a versatile warrior on a horse. Nevertheless, the brunette grabbed her cloak and lifted it slightly upwards, only to allow herself to progress forward, darting though the bushes of fern that covered the damp forest floor. Naadia was far too stubborn to toss away the dead rabbit that flapped against her thigh as she ran, even if getting rid of it would give her considerate advantage. Thus she dashed through the maze of treetrunks that became more sparse with every further step she took, not even sparing a moment to see if she was followed.

[Einar Gudleifer]

Maybe it was a large forest animal. They came far up the mountains sometimes to escape from predators, or look for a suitable burrow for the winter. It was hard to tell from where he was as the mist from the falling water was throwing the colors in his vision off. Einar couldn't tell what it was that was watching him but he did know it was watching. Regardless he thought his dip in the small pool had been long enough and he needed to get back to the city so he started taking long slow steps that hardly rippled the water around him. However when the telltale sound of snapping twigs reached his ears the easy gate turned into mad, driving, footfalls turning the water around him into a violent turmoil and froth. Something was running, and Einar instinctively wanted to run it down.

A flutter of fabric under the scattered beams of light raining down from the forest treetops lit on the unmistakable seal of Demici. The urge to chase switched to a more duty driven motive. As balanced, and even graceful, as the soldier was he stumbled while trying to hop into his pants; Knees crashing down onto the rocks in the soft sand below. A stifled grunt slipped through clenched teeth more over the fact he'd lost too much time to chase the enemy down of foot. A shrill whistle ripped through the air followed by "Halfrid!" The draft horse cantered over to it's rider and stopped only long enough for him to grab a handful of main in one fist and some straps of the saddle in the other. With two skips beside the accelerating horse Einar had picked up enough momentum to swing himself up into the saddle, then hunker down in his stirrups to gain the advantage of speed.

The flight of the enemy through the forest wasn't hard to follow since they had broken what appeared to be every twig and branch in their path trying to get away. This wasn't like the soldiers he had fought before. They were weak men, and soft wristed warriors but he had never known one to run so hard....they usually opted for an attempt at bravery and turned to fight. What ever the case was he could see the flapping cape with the rival House's crest bouncing along between a sprinkling of trees. He lifted in the saddle slightly as the horse continued to gain ground between them. Finally when he was only a few feet behind the trespasser the north man leaped out of his saddle, grinning inwardly as he watched his arms constrict, around the waist of his target.

[Naadia Demici]

Any sprinting that was to be done was futile when facing one from the House of Nalju, especially when mounted on the resistant equine specially bred for optimal speed and endurance on the demanding terrain of the North. Deep down Naadia was glad that she substituted her more formal court attire consisting of solemn dresses with simple blouse and loose pants that allowed for a more speedy getaway than the one if she chose to stick to her common everyday garments. Even with these mitigating circumstances taken into account, the brunette was no match to a skilled ranger who raced after her, closing distance between them in a dampened gallop that echoed though the evergreen woods.

As she heard the rattle of the riding equipage draw near, her heart started pounding wildly within her chest, depriving her even more of oxygen. A flux of thoughts scurried through her head, as she wondered of what will become of her if she was caught. And knowing the house of Nalju and their ways, nothing civilized was to be expected. Thus the young woman forced all the reserves of strenght into the muscles of her legs to gain velocity, but before she even got to compose herself, Naadia was knocked down, loosing ground under her feet. Falling forwards, she slumped onto the moss-covered forest floor, a loud grunt leaving her lips. In situations like these, more so when the foregoing tensions between the two Houses were taken into account, instinct and acting upon it was the best response. Naadia was no solider, but she was not going down without a fight.

Hence the future Countess let her hand slip to the dagger at her waist, drawing the short curved blade out and using the commotion of the situation to turn her body in her waist and face her attacker, the point of the dagger pressing against his neck. At that very moment, her own breathing stopped, the courage of acting upon her threats leaving her. Brown eyes glared with defiance, but the hand equipped with the dagger refused to leave its menacing position.

''Step back, Nalju. I am not afraid to use this.'' the woman uttered in the most determined voice she managed to produce at the moment. Only then did she notice the familiarity of the face of her assaulter; the long golden hair and the melancholic, yet rugged face was to be seen on a number of recent occasions which involved peace negotiations. The negotiations failed because of men like him, who failed to understand the voice of reason and Naadia assumed this man to be no different than the well established stereotype Saffian mothers used to scare their children when they misbehaved.

[Einar Gudleifer]

The soft forest floor absorbed most of the initial shock from the tackle. But there were some shocks the forest floor could not absorb, especially the recognition of the woman's face. Einar had known something was different from the second he'd pulled her down. She had been to light to even be on average with the youngest of soldiers. And then she twisted around in his grasp, lithe, and spry. He blinked initially confused at how the person he'd been chasing down turned into a woman.

Some dignified part of him felt bad for being so rough but that quickly withered as a knife was pricking the skin on his neck. Only then, as a single droplet of blood formed around the point of the dagger, did he really connect her face with her name. She was the daughter of Demici, and not just figuratively, she was actually the daughter of the rival count. Suddenly Einar's eyes grew slightly. If she didn't do anything stupid then when she was brought back to Carrania, she could potentially get him in a lot of trouble.

But she hadn't seemed like some pompous intellectual at the recent meetings. True he himself hadn't ever spoken to her, hardly even allowed himself to gaze out of the corner of one eye, but.....she just hadn't seemed like a high and mighty Demici. All names, politics, and house assumptions aside she still had a knife to his neck. Normally Einar would have done something seemingly stupid and extinguished the life beneath him for such a trick but if she hadn't split his skin in earnest then she was probably willing to talk, at least. His right hand slowly reached to very gently push the knife away. "And you are not hunting on your own lands. I won't assume your lost, so if you want things to get better...I'll need your name...and that toothpick back in it's place." Of course he knew her name, everyone did. She was an object of curiosity to most of the northern people since it was rare they set eyes on skin that wasn't bleached white with snow and cold. But he had to be sure it was her after all he couldn't believe the Count would let his precious daughter out of their realms for a frolic in the woods.

[Naadia Demici]

Brown eyes dilated upon seeing that the tip of her ornamented dagger had pricked through his skin, a small droplet of blood forming on his neck and trickling down the curved blade towards the brunette. Despite the fact that this man was obviously a Nalju, the centuries long rivalry between two houses representing an obstacle not easily transcended, she somehow felt sorry for hurting him. It was not in her nature to act in this way, but she had no other option then to draw her weapon upon him tackling her to the ground. There was a general lack of aggression that was to be commonly associated with the Nalju, a subtle acknowledgement of her innate, gender-induced weakness lingering within this man. This was as unforeseen as the mildness of his gesture that pushed the blade away from his neck, her hand exerting no resistance and simply following the knife itself to the point where it posed no further threat.

And only then did Naadia manage to attribute this face with a name, remembering the last negotiations that failed like any other before them. It was hard not to notice a man who’s posture and fair, long hair made him stand out in the dark-haired crowd of the Nalju warriors, especially as he was always quiet when his warmonger comrades boasted and discussed theatrically. This particular person had sparked interest within Naadia to the extent that she bothered enough to find out his name and his position, his calm, bemused look hiding something that could possibly shake her firm belief that Nalju were nothing more than a step further up the evolutionary ladder, just above savage beasts.

‘’Naadia Demici, the Royal House of Demici.’’ she spat out boldly, locking her eyes with his, trying to hide any residual fear she had. Her chest bloated as she struggled for air under his burly figure that had her pressed against the ground, wiggling somewhat under him to gain more space.
‘’And I did not know you are so fond of hunting, Einar Gudleifer. You did not seem like the type of man who needs to chase around.’’ Naadia commented and produced a sour smile, brushing the imaginary dust off her shoulder, a gesture pretty much directed at hiding her consternation with his rather civilized approach.

[Einar Gudleifer]

The gaze that had seemed as if it wanted to soften lost all pretenses as his full name was uttered not four inches from his face; Turning bitter and cold for half a minute. The Count would have told everyone his real name, just to prove how much control he had over Einar. So far his heritage was turning out to be more of a curse than anything else. After the moment of stone cold hatred passed, however, the man sighed a little and nodded to confirm her accusations of who he was, expression turning to a humor tinged acceptance as he did so.

"Hunting," He pulled his hand away from the dagger and placed a fist on the ground, next to Naadia's head while the other hand raked the hair back from it's cascade. "Is not something I do at all, since I have no real need to kill..." A glance at the dead rabbit, "Helpless forest animals. That is something better left to the mindless, and morally destitute." Einar's brown eyes left her's for a moment while he looked at the sky. Time was so short this part of the year. Even the naturally long Northern evenings were surprisingly short, he didn't like it. Carrania would be shutting her gates soon as well, their conversation was drawing to a close faster than he, secretly, wanted it to.

"I need to know why you were up this far. It's not like a doting father to let his little girl stray from his sight." The long haired man sat back on his haunches, giving the woman space enough to breathe comfortably, but still keep her grounded. "Or you could not tell me the truth, and we'll stay right here, you on the ground, and freeze when the cold starts to set in the next hour or so. I'd appreciate the former, it's drafty without the other half." A gesture at the missing upper body armor.

[Naadia Demici]

The subtlety of his humor made Naadia produce a kind-hearted chuckle and after finally being left with some personal space, she erected her upper body, supporting herself with her arms set back, her fingers shoveling through a pile of dried leaves. A glance towards the dead rodent that still lay strapped to her belt only widened her smile further, showing her appreciation of his conduct that was stunningly lenient for a ranger.

‘’But, my lord, all of us must eat. I am sure the Count would forgive one dead rabbit…’’ she voiced, diverting her look to gaze at the darkening sky. A chilly breeze brushed against her bronze cheeks that were unaccustomed to the harsh climate of the north, sending waves of icy displeasure down her spine. Somehow, she was ready to trade this damp forest for a few hours next to a warm hearth, even if it was back in Carrania. Thus she decided to speak truthfully, taking a giant leap in her own faith and actually trusting this man’s honorable intentions.
‘’I am a free woman, my lord. Hence I dwell any lands my heart desires, even if it is the forest of the Count of Nalju himself.’’ she stated boldly, a light smile curving her lips as her face grew more serious.

‘’I guess it is safe to assume that I am here to observe and thus learn, perchance this cognition obtained would further my understanding of your ways. So, I will not run. Like my…father does.’’ Naadia voiced, her sentence finishing off in a stutter that disclosed her own disagreement with the unified opinion the Demici had of Nalju.

[Einar Gudleifer]

"Oh you don't know the Count. He's very protective of his rabbits." He doubted this kind of situation would classify as a prisoner of war scenario which meant that he didn't have to treat her with care. Nalju usually took care of their prisoners well enough that they could be returned secretly, usually, sometimes they could find one wounded enough that no one cared what happened in the end. But Einar couldn't bring himself to be his usual, heavy handed self. He felt that not being cordial and respectful here was like stepping on a baby chick.

All that aside she had earned enough of his admiration through truth that he had no right to act otherwise. "Running from a fight has it's place," The man rocked back on his heels and stood up, taking a second to peer down at the woman below him. "But not from us. We chase down what runs." He extended his hand to help her up, a faint nod accompanying it if she was hesitant. "Tell him as much if you see him again. Admitting defeat would result in more lives saved."

He snapped his fingers twice with his free hand the horse cantering over in turn. "It is too long of a ride to take you directly to your home. We will have to make Carrania before night fall. I just hope your free will hasn't cost your people more than they can afford."

[Naadia Demici]

''If I see my father again?'' the bronze skinned woman mused briefly upon accepting his hand and standing up, brushing bits of dirt and leaves from the rich fabric of the brown cloak that encompassed her, making herself look presentable in accordance with her noble heritage. Naadia knew not what possible fate the Nalju would install for her - would they simply decapitate her on account of killing one rabbit or perchance make her a slave to humiliate her father? The use of one simple word like if had shaken Naadia's faith in standing a fair trial or at least making it out of Carrania alive. Instead of trying to run now, despite the fact that she had a fair chance of making it at least to the edge of the forrest, Naadia decided to tag along and try to talk herself out of the mess she has gotten herself in the first place, the Count permitting.

''Then I suggest you hope your master achieves a fine price, for I am sure he will send a lofty prize your way for finding such a valuable piece of the Demici flock astray.'' she replied in a reciprocal manner, before hopping onto the horse first, leaning forwards to allow him to take his usual position in the saddle. It was much safer to sit in front of the rider than at the back, given the harsh terrain of the North and the steep path to Carrania paved with sharp stones, but Naadia was not too thrilled about the physical contact that will inevitably commence as a result of her current positioning on the horse. Usually, she would have voiced her disapproval, but for the time being, she just decided to keep her mouth shut for her own sake.

[Einar Gudleifer]

He was surprised that she didn't start blathering on about how she couldn't be the subject to whims, or that she couldn't be held responsible. It wasn't much of anything really, but given that she was of the opposing House, doing anything out of what was expected improved her standing with Einar. "We don't have the space for the amenities you're used to." Began the half naked man, skin turning red with cold, as he remained on the ground long enough to guide the horse back to his clothing and gear. "Cities grow vertically, and narrow at the peaks, no room for land speeders...separate housing, even lifts are scarce.

'The terrain is too changing for any kind of land craft besides the horse your sitting on." Now he swung himself up easily into the saddle, bending around the woman as much as he could without actually coming into contact with her while he reached for the reigns. "And our...lord..." He chewed and gnashed on the word before uttering it with barely restraint cynicism, "Doesn't see the point in providing armor if it's not going to stop blaster fire, so he provides half leather and half regular armor to better stop blades. They may look primitive, act...heavy handed, and spew vulgarities at peace meetings but it's rare that you'll encounter a savage you seem to humor them as."

He took the shortest trail back to the city at a steady canter, silently musing over what he'd just said. True he'd spent nearly all of his waking life with House Nalju, and was even thought of as one among most circles, he didn't feel like one. He felt like he was on the outside looking in at a shadow of himself. Somewhere deep down Einar knew he was not where he was supposed to be, that he still had more important things to do. Presently they slowed down as they passed a large jutting rock and he guided the horse onto an unbelievably narrow pass, several hundred feet above nothing. Einar had remained stiff in his saddle so he bumped into his charge as little as possible but when they started across the pass he slipped an arm high around her waist, loose and almost cradling. "It's not as bad as it seems, but two riders unbalance the horse on these kinds of roads."

Slowly three dark hills grew out of the dusk lit mountains, small flickering lights dotting them randomly, making the sight look like there had been a forest fire that was just now burning out. The hills the city was built on were large but the city it's self was mostly superficial. The only things built inside the mountains were shallow cellars, and the few emergency passages for evacuations. He grinned to himself as he wondered if Naadia knew about the cities layout or if it was her first time seeing it. "Still a few miles to cover, but they will have seen us by now and allow us time to get in the city before it's locked down."

[Naadia Demici]

The icy breeze that blew from the frozen mountaintops began to work its way through her flesh, permeating every layer of cloth that encompassed her body and reaching all the way to the bone, shaking the very foundations of her being. This must have been the famed frosty sensation of the North Naadia knew from epic poems and sonnets, that glorified the weathering climate which forged the Nalju into a crude, austere breed. Only barely listening to what Einar had to say, faintly nodding and allowing him to administer a preventive gesture that maximized her own security upon the steed they both rode, the bronze skinned woman absorbed every single segment of the majestic scenery around them.

The jagged peaks reflected the last of radiance, as the glimmering orb of the sun plummeted behind the horizon, leaving the crystal clear sky sprinkled with stars. Naadia let her eyes settle on the multitude of towers and turrets that grew out of the slopes of the mountain range, the base of each building carved into solid rock. The architecture of Carrania was indeed much different than that of Saffia; the lack of space resulted in vertical protrusion and a maze of bridges and paved pathways that connected different sections of the city, the sheer narrowness allowing progression on horseback solely. It was only now that Naadia understood why the Nalju resorted to horses for transport, rather than other less archaic forms of conveyance.

Finally, after emerging behind yet another meander on the scant path that lead to the heart of the city, Naadia's jaw dropped as she leaned back in awe, firmly pressing her back against Einar's chest. Dark brown eyes pasted to the castle of the Nalju, an edifice she only saw on pictures or read about in books. The Citadel itself was to be found at the edge of the glacier, the walls acting as a dam that melted the ice that trickled down the fortification and into the abyss of the chasm underneath.
Slightly cocking her head to the side, then looking up at her escort, Naadia managed to smile faintly, still impressed by the grandeur of the home of the Nalju lords.

''The sanctuary of the wild fiend.'' she whispered, shifting her eyes back to the stone monument and propping even more backwards, finding such position much more convenient. After all, a thick layer of cloth from her cloak, coupled with leather lamina of his armor ensured that the underlying body contact was far from inappropriate. The steed started to advance faster, as if knowing that the gates of Carrania will close soon after sundown, bringing the two closer to the castle with every clump that echoed against the granite pathway.

[Einar Gudleifer]

A low chuckle rumbled in his upper chest, she was her own person as well. What he had been trying to say had floated through her head without so much as stopping to be noticed. Or maybe it had been snagged for her to use in any future decisions about her perceptions of his respective House. The more that she spoke and gave clues as to who she was, the more Einar wondered over her. His puzzlement wasn't anything physical, though the armor hadn't been enough to stop his notice of her proximity, but more about her....as a person. This time he wondered if she was anyone's fool or did she just attract them like moths to moonlight?

He tried to settle a begrudging frown back over his lips but her silly remark only minutes earlier still held it's sway over his smirk. As they passed the first sentry Einar called out to several men gawking at them from inside their guard house. "Get the Count on comms. Tell him I've found someone he'd like to talk with." He continued to let the horse ferry them along, unguided, through the city. The stables weren't right next to the Count's audience room, so it allowed him time to be selfish and remain alone with Naadia just that much longer. "Because of who you are I have to walk you to meet with the Count. He'll want to hold you here and force a treaty on your father. Just...be honest, tell him you are going home, and don't mention the rabbits." If he was joking it would have been hard to tell unless she was looking directly at him. The horse stopped, making it clear it was going to go no farther, eliciting a grunt from Einar. He leaned forward slightly, keeping his eyes straight ahead, and swung his right leg down off of the saddle; Reaching out to help his charge down after he had both feet removed from the stirrups. "Don't forget. If you back down Nalju will only follow you down, don't let them do that."

[Naadia Demici]

Accepting his help, Naadia dismounted the horse, somehow glad that her feet were back on solid ground once again. Readjusting her cloak to hide any underlying garments, she simply nodded to his notion, looking around for a moment. The scenery was exactly like she remembered it from when she was a child; the stone paved narrow streets, buildings towering over them and the magnificent castle that hosted the head of the Nalju. The establishment seemed much smaller now, as the brunette attributed this to the changed perspective; after all she was half a meter shorter when she last dwelt these lands, accompanying her mother on her visit to the late Countess of Nalju. Her memories of this place were dim, but she recollected the frosty scent of air, its dry texture that poked ones lungs and the large metallic doors that separated the House of Nalju from the commoners they reigned over.

''Quite the councilor you are, Einar Gudleifer. Unfortunately, I am blessed with common sense, unlike many here, thus your word, no matter how appreciated, is quite redundant.'' she said confidently, her reply sprayed with mischievous wit. Many eyes settled on Naadia's exotic appearance as they progressed towards the ornamented portal, her dark complexion attracting much attention, despite the concealing attire she wore.

''I see the stone hearts resist weathering. Not much has changed in the past twenty years; everything is how I remember it. Every rock in place, the same battle-scarred faces... Like time has indeed stopped in the domain of the Nalju.'' Naadia commented, stepping up a flight of wide stairs that lead to the entrance to the stone edifice that was also Einar's home. Turning her head towards the blond man, she staged a mild smile, folding her hands in front of herself.

''Despair not, warrior. Your prize draws near, the rattle of gold coins cures any damage that my tongue could possibly inflict to your ego. And buys you enough wine and women to forget you ever met me by the morning.'' she finished off, proudly standing as the large door slowly opened, revealing a long hallway with domed ceiling, supported by an array of stone columns, decorated heavily by draconic monsters stemming from folktales and myths, the Nalju superstition being one of the prime reasons Demici thought of them as savages.

[Einar Gudleifer]

"My services are not rewarded in coin, or pleasure." Despite his best efforts the biting tone could not be kept back as he spoke. Part of him was insulted that she would lump him in with the Nalju but his better half knew that only a few were aware of his status. Einar had tried everything he knew in an effort to have himself recognized by his rightful heritage and when that had not worked he tried to become one of the people around him. That, too, failed as the Count could not bring himself to treat Einar as one of his beloved citizens. He had no other way to live than to be angry at fate, and the Count, and the Count's son, and his own duty in life.

Irritations were another thing that plagued him relentlessly. The people that lived in the north were hardy, but nothing else. Their faces were too bland, humor far too brutish, and the only notable past time anyone knew of was drinking. A stiff drink didn't go amiss even with Einar, but he didn't understand the need to put one's self in a drunken stupor every night. Nobody talked about anything other than house pride and sex. Talking about marksmanship, or swordsmanship, was something he liked to do but with the Nalju it was tedious because of their closed minds. Intelligent conversation was hard to find, though he didn't see any reason to elevate himself above crudeness and vulgarities while he was at it. He felt like he was constantly talking to children and it was irritating in the worst way. The only two people he could rely on to exercise his mind were the Count's son and daughter.....but even they didn't release part of his frustration. He knew he could do so much more, than any person around him, but it was an energy that always slipped away from his grasp.

The two of them had almost made i to the opposite end of the hall when a man, childish in the face but none the less as aged as Einar, strutted out of a side hallway. Einar let out an involuntary moan of dismay. It was the Count's son. He had a place in Einar's daily routine, reporting from one important person to the next, but little else. He was one of the few who knew what the master at arms was and used it as leverage, so he could get away with treating him like a second rate servant. Einar wasn't in the mood to deal with him, or share Naadia's company as the sniveling son of Nalju would want it. "What is this?" "Business...not yours, Balder." The other man was trying to act disgusted at Einar's role of escort, for some stupid reason. Einar didn't like the boy much. "Lord Balder, man." "And yet I've heard no one else call you such, not even the servant droids." "You are my father's man and you will do as I say as I am his son." "Your father owns my contract and my name, not you." Balder started to protest but a quick smile exposed the abnormally long canine teeth Einar possessed cut him short allowing time enough for a quick jibe. "Aren't you late for one of your mother's lessons? Dancing, today...isn't it? Don't enjoy your partner too much." Einar laughed softly as he pushed open the door to the Count's audience chambers for Naadia, and caught a glimpse of Balder turning red and then hurrying off.

[Naadia Demici]

The bronze skinned woman kept to herself as Einar exchanged words with the Count's son, allowing herself to recollect of her last time here, so many years ago. She did remember Balder as being a nuisance and a prick even then, when they were still children, throwing stones at both Astrid and her when they played in the courtyard. It was quite reasonable to assume that this particular pattern of behavior was to be retained in adulthood. Somehow, Naadia was relieved that the pompous dawdle had not recognized her, as this would have surely prolonged their encounter. To see the slimeball go about his business enticed a sigh of genuine remedy when Einar finally pushed the large wooden door open.

Not showing any visible reluctance, she stepped in, waiting for blond man to follow so that he can lead the way. Brown eyes looked straight ahead, noticing a massive wooden table at the end of an oblong chamber and a gray-haired man sitting in an armchair behind it. He was surrounded by other men as they apparently busily discussed something, a map spread out before them. It was no surprise to see the greedy Nalju drool over territory that was not rightfully theirs; the innate desire to conquest, a primal constituent of their warmonger nature could not perish easily. Peace - simply - was never an option.

The two paced along the woven rug that extended itself towards where the Count sat, the last rays of the sun illuminating the room through a tall, but narrow window. The brunette allowed herself to casually glance from side to side, her eyes instantly pasting to the walls where stuffed deer and bear heads were hung, together with horns of all sizes. To emphasize the warrior heritage the Nalju were so proud of, the collection of dead fauna was complemented with ancient weapons that were hung between the hunt mementos.

''By the gods... In Saffia, we hang art on walls.'' Naadia cerebrated to herself just before Einar stopped before the table, causing her to consequently stop just a step behind him. The Count looked up from the map and ahead, narrowing his eyes to inspect who had come to seek his audience. Apparently, being unable to tell people from afar, he lifted his monocle and pressed it to his good eye. As soon as he acquired cognition of whom exactly had Einar brought, he waved his hand and coughed, trying to clear his throat.

''Leave us...'' he uttered, his words leaving them three alone in a matter of moments. Grabbing his ornamented walking stick, the Count got up from his place and made his way around the table and towards Naadia to inspect her from close, his monocle still on his good eye. Evidently limping, he somehow managed to drag himself close enough to lean in and look directly into Naadia's face, his own facial expression being of both genuine surprise and perplexity.

''The crown of Demici has lost its finest jewel...'' he started off lowly ''and yet my finest warrior finds it and brings it intact. Not very Nalju-like, hm?''

The Count shifted his only healthy eye to Einar, raising both gray eyebrows, demanding an explanation.

[Einar Gudleifer]

"The Count knows I am not of the Nalju, I thought it would be better to return the Lady Naadia to her father unharmed and avoid loosing all hope of peace talks. My instincts took over for a time, it won't happen again." He'd forced himself to sound self punishing, trying to sound disgusted with his own actions. It was required of him all the time but Einar knew that it would be expected of him more now, in Naadia's presence, than ever before. If it worked or not he wouldn't know becuase he hadn't looked away while speaking, a rule he didn't know he was supposed to follow, though the look the Count gave him might have well sliced off his head.

Einar dipped his own head low, golden hair falling before his face and allowing him to snarl behind the curtain of blond silk. "Where did you find her?" Though Einar was a little taller than the Count he did not straighten up to his full height, and still kept his eyes averted from both the Count and Naadia. "She was north, several miles up the western mountain wall, by our communications post. She told me she was on her way to deliver a message to you, undisclosed to her, when she got separated from her guard detail." There was a pause while the Count waited for something expectantly. "I...I thought of tracking and killing the guard detail but we still would have been in the mountains if I had. Coming back and avoiding the possibility of total war seemed the right thing to do."

Heavy breathing made the cape laden shoulders of Count Nalju rise and fall in sharp shaking motions. Einar always seemed to overlook the Count's age but at that moment he wondered why he was so subordinate to a man that old. "I don't keep you to do what's right, Einar Gudleifer. You are here to do what I say as you are mine." And then he was reminded of why he was subordinate, in that infuriating cordial tone of voice. He was a slave, owned through skin and name....the Count knew his real name so he had to obey. There was a faint emphasis on the last word but it would have been overlooked if someone didn't have an idea the Nalju practiced slavery. A flick of a finger in the direction of the map left behind by the advisers. "Go. Study the map, memorize your task, and make any changes that would benefit me." Einar nodded, started to turn towards Naadia to say something but was cut off with a sharp "Now." Obedience had to be shown.

[Naadia Demici]

Naadia's lips parted with intention to utter some parting words; perhaps express her gratitude that she was delivered to Carannia safe and sound, a stark contrast to the Nalju way of dealing with enemy women. But before a single sound could be produced, Einar was sent away, her brown eyes following his every step that put space between them, the bronze skinned woman remaining to stand in front of the Count, shifting her gaze to the aged man. The Count noticed her attention somewhat occupied by Einar's sudden departure, consequently enticing an amiable cackle out of him, his gray-haired head shaking in discredit.

''I had no idea Demici had taste for the wildest of beasts. Although this one is quite tamed.'' the Count said in reference to his finest warrior and made his way to stand by the window, limping across the floor and supporting himself by his walking staff.

''He is different - this is clear as day. Sometimes... I wish Balder was more like him. Righteous, yet stiff. Forged for battle. Not dancing and the arts, like a girl. I thank the gods for blessing me with Astrid. If she was not here, there would be nobody to run the mines.'' he reflected on both of his children, talking to Naadia like an equal - her own father was the Count of Serenno, as was he.

''Einar and Astrid seem to get along nicely.'' he added, a smirk appearing on his weathered visage, his bleak eyes settled on the darkening sky.
That particular notion made Naadia quirk a dark brow due to the suggestive undertone of his statement, as it was unseen to have royalty meddle with commoners, let alone a subordinate who's sole purpose was to serve. This only made Naadia even more convinced in the lecherous nature of the Nalju.

''Return me to Saffia unharmed, my Lord, as a token of trust and genuine intent of peace.'' she spat out diplomatically, holding back not to comment any of his previous statements. The Count turned around and eyed her, his facial expression disclosing extensive cerebration that was taking place inside his skull.
''Hah! And let the Demici think I am weak and soft! Never!'' he almost shouted, swaying his hand sideways in ultimate dismissal of her idea. In his own mind, this would be a sign of lenience, one he could not allow, at least not with the current tension between the Houses.

''You must be worth something to your father...'' he started off, pressing a finger against his dry lips, his gaze falling to the table where the holoprojector was to be found ''Let's see how much.''
With that being said, the old man pressed a button which initiated a direct holovid link with the palace of Demici, in the heart of Saffia, some few thousand miles southwards. This particular connection was a private one, usually in use when two Counts wanted to discuss something important, without any disturbance, with not even Naadia having access to it. Soon enough, Naadia's father hailed from the other side -
''Greetings, Count of Nalju. What mischief have you installed upon us now?''
The old man chuckled, leaning in and smiling, crooked teeth showing.
''Naadia, the most worthy gem in your crown has found her way to our lair. And apparently, she wants back.''
''What? How? Do not harm her or I swear I will...'' Naadia's father replied, evidently excited over the fact that his only daughter wandered off into enemy territory.
''Relax, Alberto... No harm will come to her. But everything has its price.''
''Name it.'' Alberto stated determinedly, stern look on his face.
''The Book of Mythos. You know it belongs here.''

Naadia's eyes widened at the mention of The Book of Mythos, the largest collection of the most ancient of chants, stemming from the very foundations of Nalju, thousands of years ago. As well as having enormous historical worth, the book itself was of sentimental value to the Nalju, due to folklore contained inside. It had been taken to Saffia some three hundred years ago, when a thief sold the
compendium to the Demici. Instead of wealth and spice, the Count of Nalju had requested a book - highly unusual and alarming. As this was one of the most beloved tomes in the Saffia library, Alberto took a few moments to muse, unwilling to part with that particular piece of literature.

''Fine. You will have it after my daughter is back safely.''
''I will send her with an escort, who will make sure the deal is honored. First thing in the morning.'' the old man concluded, a self-satisfied grin on his face, his eyes flipping to Naadia when the hologram disappeared.
''Einar will accompany you and bring the book. You leave in the morning. Until then, you are my guest.'' he said, starting to make his way to the door, his breath intermittent.
''Dinner is in half an hour. I'm sure Balder and Astrid will be glad to see you again.'' the Count added, disappearing behind a drapery that secluded a hidden passage probably leading to one of his private quarters. When the Count left, Naadia looked around the audience room, once again noting the dead fauna on the walls.
''This place is not so bad afterall.'' she stated to herself, out loud, still perplexed with the Count demanding a book. If they were only savages who cared for the material, why would he trade her for a lexicon? Indeed, the brunette had much to learn of the Nalju and their ways.

[Astrid Nalju]

Days spent in the mines seemed endless, the dirt permeating through ones pores, encrusting on the skin, the dust from drilling rock weathering the complexion. The mines of Carannia were no place for a woman, but Astrid had no choice. With her brother being an egocentric, careless twit who cared about nothing but his own leisure plans, the daughter of Nalju, doting and responsible, had to attend to any matters her old, sick father could not do himself. All of the virtues that made a good statesman - the patience, the prudence, along with a sense of order and law were embodied in Astrid, instead of her brother, all of Nalju knowing that she had the substance to take command when her father would wither away finally.

This scenario, no matter how optimal, was not feasible due to the patriarchal tradition the Nalju cherished. It was customary for the son to take the throne, even if he was both such a prick and bon vivant as Balder and there was nothing Astrid could say or do to change the course of succession. Nevertheless, her spirit did not blight, as she assumed de facto command of the house of Nalju and everybody knew this.

Thus it was not a great strain to spend the entire day monitoring gem excavations, despite the exhaustion that overwhelmed her body when the working day was over. And as the sun was setting, Astrid Nalju returned to the castle for the night, to dine with her kindred and replenish her strenght in sleep. The usual salutation commenced as the woman strolled though the maze of corridors that lead to her quarters, her hand lifted in the air to shut the guards up before they even spoke.

''Save the formalities for somebody who cares.'' she spat out and smiled, pulling off the gloves that protected her hands from the frosty climate ''At ease, men. Better hurry to the kitchen, I can smell dinner even here.''
Her encouraging words were welcomed with many thanks, the rumble in the guard's stomachs propelling them in the general direction from which the scent of baked meat and potatoes was coming. Astrid knew that soldiers needed to be fed, as they would thus keep their alertness at night, during their watch. Her mild, but authoritative approach was something even her father envied her, as she always managed to get things done without commanding or even raising her tone of voice.

Upon being left alone, Astrid brushed her heavy dark cloak backwards to reveal simple workman's clothes underneath, an attire quite appropriate for the environment she spent most of her time as of late. For a brief moment, she glanced out of the window and down at the atrium, noticing a cloaked figure walk through the garden. Quirking a brow as a sign of genuine interest, the daughter of Nalju shifted her eyes to gaze down the corridor and noticed a familiar figure striding down the hall.

''Einar!'' she called out, a faint smile curving her lips.