Jump to content

Wayfarer

Members
  • Content count

    130
  • Joined

  • Last visited

3 Followers

About Wayfarer

  • Rank
    Citizen
  • Birthday 02/08/1997

Profile Information

  • Location
    England
  • Interests
    Welcome! uh...not really much to say here. I'm a uni student that enjoys writing. So...hit me with PMs if you're interested! I love all genres but have a soft spot for fantasy and sci-fi.
  • Occupation
    This is a thing?

Recent Profile Visitors

3,756 profile views
  1. Wayfarer

    Hello again!

    So...I joined Valucre back in the very beginning of 2015. I was quite active and had many wonderful rps, as well as met some lovely people. I sadly had to quit for a small time when I started university as I simply couldn't promise frequent updates to storylines. However, university is coming to a finish and I'm looking to get back into the habit of posting here. I read through a few of the older roleplays I have done with some amazing writers here and I find myself really missing it. So feel free to say hi!
  2. So...it's been a couple of years since I was last really active here. I've started university, and now coming to the end of it. I've also been going through some difficulties, but now that life is calming down again, I've decided i want to come back to the site. Please drop me any messages if you are interested, either to RP, reconnect, or just to say hi :]

    1. Show previous comments  1 more
    2. Wayfarer

      Wayfarer

      Thank you ^^

    3. supernal

      supernal

      Let me know if you find yourself with any questions :smile:

    4. Wayfarer

      Wayfarer

      I will do. The site is looking good! 

  3. O.o

    Been a while.

  4. Wayfarer

    Of a Remedial Nature

    Being preoccupied with the study of the ominous grotto before them, Denariel is oblivious to the preparation Catalina performs in order to provide light. He flails his hands in an almost idiotic manner in order to take firm hold of torch; flustered at the suddenness of being announced torch-bearer. Grunting with displeasure at the muddiness of the branch in his hand, he rearranges the satchel across his chest. His brow; furrowed into a blonde collection of slowly-simmering annoyance. ‘Of course, ma’am.’ His voice lingers on that last syllable in hopes of conveying his irritation at the situation. A sigh however escapes his lips as the elven man inclines his head, as if to chastise himself for his rude behaviour. His lips part again as a small ramble of the elvish language makes itself known, barely audible even above the near-silence of the forest. After this moment of self-awareness, Denariel darts his eyes around at the realization that the Huntress has gone on ahead without him. As he catches up to her, his breath escapes rugged – a clear sign of a lack of athleticism. The warm glow of the torch ricochets off the walls of the cave, revealing nothing spectacular, to the average eye at least. Denariel had spent his life around plants, and his eyes couldn’t seem to help but linger on the various mosses that clung desperately to the stone walls, to the array of colourful mushrooms that had formed groups at the bases of these rocky supports, and to the various patches of grass that had managed to successfully sprout, despite the lack of sunlight. ‘These shouldn’t be here.” His brow furrows once again at the various plant life as they delve further into the ever-darkening cave. However, a sudden perking of the brow and curl of the lip corners would indicate that he was having a realization. ‘They’re growing in darkness…just as the Aquilegia does. If that’s indeed the case, then my prediction couldn’t be far off. Keep an eye out.’ The enthusiastic bounce in his voice making it evident that the torch was now the least of his concerns. A misty blue hue was gradually breaking its way into the darkened pathway. Barely noticeable at first, it became overpoweringly evident when Denariel no longer required the torch to provide himself or the Huntress with guidance. ’I’m sure thi-‘ The elf is cut off as something flies past their heads; leaving a small graze on Denariel’s right cheek. Bringing his hand up to the wound in shock, he swiftly turns to find a creature now blocking the path from which they came. The face and upper body of this being could be interpreted as a human female, however with the occasional feather as these eventually thickened out to form two large, white-feathered wings. Its beak opens and a deafening shriek erupts from its core. Denariel’s eyes go wide as he wastes no time in dropping the torch and bringing his palms up to shield his ears, his own voice breaking in sheer volume as he barks a clear warning of the creature’s nature to Catalina. ‘Harpy!’
  5. Coursework will be taking priority over the next few days so I will be inactive. I will reply to any threads and PMs possibly after the 14th, failing that then the 19th.

  6. Wayfarer

    Of a Remedial Nature

    The woods were nothing spectacular: Tall, green trees; muddy paths; grass littered with the occasional weed or flower; rustlings of the local wildlife resonated from all corners and an array of bird cheeps sounded from above and within the treeline. Denariel trudged along the dirt path. It had not rained for the past few days and the sun hung high in the spring-time sky, coating the kingdom of Lanaria in it's soft and iridescent hue. This meant that the path was not of a damp texture but rather of a dry and powdery one that kicked up dust-clouds with each traveler's step. 'This is the correct woods. However, the text didn't specify where exactly it could be found...' The elf's voice reared off as he began to mumble in his native tongue, accompanied with a slight hint of frustration. He reached into his satchel once again and hastily produced the folded map. The crisp parchment crackled as it was unfolded whilst Denariel continued to glance around. There were no remarkable landmarks, nothing that appeared unique in structure to relieve them of the same monotonous setting. It was as if the travelers had been plunged into an infinite loop of dirt, stones and greenery that remained frozen in time and never-changing. 'I do believe that we might be lost...' Denariel sighed after a good hour of aimlessly wandering the unchanging woods in search of the Aquilegia flower. 'Remember the picture, Miss Huntress...short, small diameter, bright blue petals.' His voice trailed, as if the reminder to Catalina of the flower was also a reminder to himself. However, there was a hint of something to his voice. Something that seemed more distracted rather than focused on the job at hand. As if his thoughts were elsewhere but were at the same time fighting against the psychological distraction to concentrate on the concept and finding of the plant. Much to the relief of the elf, a crack in the monotonal path slowly came into view in the form of a cave. The entrance was tall: higher than that of an average human being. All matter of plant-life grew up the exterior of the cave walls, embedding their venomous vines into the towering rock and diminishing it's integrity further each passing season as the fauna continued to grow and grow. With a small smirk of curiosity, Denariel slowly approached the cave entrance; offering a courtesy glance at his companion to measure her opinion of whether to enter or not. 'The book stated that he flower often blooms in the shadows. I assumed that might have meant the shade of a tree. However...' His glance switched from the short female to the eerie darkness of the cavern, '...I failed to take into account the possibility that a bed of darkness, such as this, might come across our path.' Slowly, he began to fold the map up again and spoke in a precise manner as he replaced it into his bag. 'It's up to you, Miss Huntress. You're the one that is charged with protecting me from whatever might lie in wait. The cave is a good possibility, but I understand if you'd prefer to continue checking the treeline instead.' His arms were folded and his head moved in a small circle as it examined the circumference of the cave entrance, awaiting Catalina's response.
  7. I really like Gideon because I remember him now. He was gonna help us on that airship heist that never happened. I may require his services in the future.

  8. Wayfarer

    Of a Remedial Nature

    Denariel looked back at Catalina, adjusting to her pace as she caught up to him. He wasn't used to traveling with a companion and so would have to modify accordingly at which he released a faint grunt of annoyance. He rubbed at his neck, seemingly strained before he replied. 'There might be a slight issue there. I...took an oath to the King that I would not return to the city until I have fulfilled what I had promised to do. By extension...that means that you cannot either. I apologize for the inconvenience, but Valmont likes to have security of success when sending someone away on a mission.' Without even offering a courtesy look to her as he spoke, he continued to trudge along the path. It was the main road that led to another city and so it would continue to be paved for the entire duration of that journey. 'This road, after a few days' walk, leads to the town of Osserlan. It would prove useful to us to stop there and resupply when the time comes. At her question, he halted in his tracks. 'How much exactly did the King tell you of this job?' As he awaited her response, he leaned against one of the waist-height walls that framed the road. The stone it consisted off was cracked and the bonding agent was crumbling, but it would hold his weight still with no problems. After rummaging through his satchel, he produced a hefty tome. There were pieces of parchment sticking out of it from all angles; notes and page-markers he had placed on pages of importance. Each was marker with a different word in ink and flicked through them until he made a small noise of satisfaction at finding the correct one. He then found the corresponding page and flipped the tome open. 'Here.' On the page was a small flower with many pointed, cerulean-blue petals. 'This is the Aquilegia flower. It appears fairly unremarkable but remains just as important to obtain as the other fauna examples.' He traced his long, slender finger along a couple of lines of writing that lay next to the image, then read out the text in a summarized manner. 'The Aquilegia flower has a number of healing properties, but I will be using it in order to slow a raging a blood pressure. It will not be easy to find as it grows out fo sight, but I have a means to overcome that.' He then closed the tome after allowed Catalina a look at the page. 'We are required to collect eight different flowers, herbs and fauna before we can return to the king.' Denariel faltered for a moment and sighed before carefully replacing the book into his satchel and clasping his hands together as he began to speak. 'I know that the King implied that we have all of the time in the world, but I assure you that this is not the case. We do not have to rush, but neither can we be leisurely. We must find each plant and return to the King in haste.' There was an apparent deflation in his voice as he pushed from the wall to stand straight once again. They continued walking a fair while and the sun was beginning to set along the horizon, casting streaks of orange and pink along the dawn sky. Denariel paused as they came to the top of a hill and nodded to the cluster of trees that lay below them. 'And there we have Gaiara Woods. From what I've heard, it isn't the most dangerous of hunting spots; hence why our hunters venture here regularly. I'm still not willing to risk it however.' He stated as he clambered through a gap in the stonewall that led onto a dirt path and made his way to the treeline.
  9. Wayfarer

    Of a Remedial Nature

    Denariel had his elbow placed firmly on the frame of the carriage window with his chin resting on the back of his hand. This jittered slightly as the carriage rumbled over the cobblestone of the roads. His eyes studied the passing scenery: The market district with it's colourful stalls and clocktower; The Garden district which was used primarily for leisurely activities, as demonstrated by the artist painting away at his easel by the pond; The Lower Residential district, where the houses were attached in long lines on either sides of the cobblestone streets; The Higher Residential district, where instead of attached houses, the streets consisted of unattached and semi-attached cottages of gray stone and green-slate roofs with gardens in impeccable condition. He couldn't help but sigh a watching the citizens go about their daily lives. Eventually, the buildings became fewer and further between as they reached the city walls. The large metal gate was raised as it was only ever lowered in the case of an attack or to prevent someone in particular from leaving. The coach driver handed a sheet of parchment over to one of the armoured guards as they arrived at the barren arch. Upon inspection of it, the guard nodded and allowed them to exit the city. They continued a little ways down the road until the hill finished and they were on flat ground. Upon seeing the woman hastily exit the carriage, the elf sighed, picked up his own satchel and begrudgingly followed her out. He slung this over his shoulder again and he kept his gaze on her as she spoke. 'It would appear a bit of both.' He closed the carriage door at which the driver took the signal and rapped on the reigns of the horses; drawing a nay of displeasure from each as they began their gallop again. Denariel unlatched the small satchel attached to his belt and produced a folded piece of parchment. He unfolded it to reveal a map of the kingdom with multiple ink dots littered across various areas. It looked as if someone had simply splattered an inked-quill against the paper, uncaring of where the ink should land. 'Each of these dots are the supposed locations of where I will find what I need.' He lowered his arms slightly so that Catalina might get a better look at the map. 'And it is your job, Miss Huntress, that I get to them alive.' He studied the map for another few seconds before folding it back up neatly and replacing it into his belt's satchel. 'If this is correct, the first, and easiest to find, should be in a wood about an hour's walk from here.' He merely stated this in a matter-of-fact manner before beginning to walk down the cobblestone path in an Eastward direction.
  10. Wayfarer

    Of a Remedial Nature

    Denariel sighed as turned on his heel and made his way over to the chair in which he had been sitting. He plucked a satchel, that appeared relatively full, off the ground and slung it over his shoulder. 'Well this is going to be pleasant.' He announced under his breath with obvious sarcasm as he forced the book into the bag next to the rest of his necessities. 'You were expected to arrive at this time. It would be poor character of me to not prepare accordingly.' His voice held a clear aversion to her comment. 'You'll also find that these are my work clothes and more practical that what others in the palace would consider donning.' He looked obviously annoyed, but also that he was attempting to cover this with a nonchalance in his voice providing the air that he did not care for the comments. King Valmont sighed and motioned for the pair to follow him back up the stairwell. 'If you two would please follow me, we have a carriage awaiting outside to take you to the city border. From there the job is all yours, Miss Loree.' There was an obvious tiredness in his voice but he did not betray anything as his posture remained as majestic as it had done when they'd left the throne room. The carriage was a pure white with painted, green vines snaking their way up and across the roof. The horses that waited patiently were of mismatched colours: one a dirty white with a long blonde mane; the other a soft chocolate brown with a white diamond on it's forehead with black locks. Christopher was stationed at the door to the carriage. 'Lady Catalina, Master Denariel.' He offered a short bow to them. 'We are prepared to make haste. Are you sure you have gathered everything you require? It will be a long time before you return to the city and it is unknown if you will come across any other settlements in your journey. Denariel turned his head and gazed up at the towering spires, squinting to protect his eyes from a reflected line of sunlight. He then turned back to the boy. 'I should think so, Christoph. I have everything I need right here.' He gently patted his shoulder bag. Looking to his female companion, he voiced his concern as to whether she also was prepared. 'Do you have everything you require, Miss Catalina?' There was a certain nonchalance in his voice that made the question appear nothing more than a passing comment with little feeling or concern to it. Christoph nodded to Denariel then looked to Catalina. 'If you indeed do have everything you require, then please embark as there is quite the journey to exit the city.' The boy took a step to the side, allowing entrance into the carriage. He offered Catalina a knowing expression, as if conveying a silent message before looking to Denariel as the elf placed a hand on his shoulder. He leaned down and whispered something into the boy's ear. As he pulled away, the boy looked down, as if suddenly saddened. Denariel sighed and patted Christoph on the head before climbing up into the carriage and dropping his satchel on the floor between his feet. 'We don't have all day, Miss Huntress. Well...we do, but I'd rather not waste it.'
  11. Wayfarer

    Of a Remedial Nature

    'How lovely that you would pay me a visit, Sire.' A deep, velvety voice emitted from the figure as he slowly rose from his seat and turned to address the newcomers. His light blonde hair was tied into a loose ponytail that sat comfortably on his right shoulder and his left eye was partially obscured by rogue strands that had broken loose from the confines. The points of ears could be seen poking up and through his hair, making it apparent that he was an elf, or at least of elven origin. His attire was that of layered robes, a choice that resulted in him looking both relaxed and of royal connections through the bagginess of expensive-looking materials. 'Of course, my dear friend. How do you fare, this afternoon?' King Valmont continued to enquirer as they reached the bottom of the stairwell. 'None too wicked, my King.' He tilted his head to glance past Valmont and at the short female. 'Who might you have brought with you?' He squinted, either to get a more precise look or through some form of displeasure at the woman: it was unclear. The King took a step to the left so that the hunter was now in full view. 'This is the woman that Argis recommended to us. She assures me that she is more than capable of escorting you on your mission.' The Elven male frowned a the King as he announced this. 'Is that so?' He replied in a deeper and almost more menacing tone as he clasped the book shut that was sitting open in his left palm. He stepped forward a few strides so that he was now directly in front of the huntress. He looked over her equipment and physique, obviously measuring up her capability to carry out this task. 'I see..' He stated, his voice hinting that he might be lost in thought. The elf was much taller than the woman which was made apparent in him having to lean over to reach her right hand. He then gently raised it, as if he would kiss it, but instead bowed his head. 'My name is Denariel Ray'thanar, and I am who you will be escorting over the coming days.' He then released her hand and straightened his posture, turning slightly to the side as to allow her a clearer view of he indoor garden. 'This here is the palace's alchemical gardens. It allows me to care for plants that require specific times of day to grow.' He then nodded towards the ceiling. 'Take note that the sky in here is of sunset, whereas outside the palace it is barely afternoon. The ceiling is in fact stone, but our head mage constructed this pseudo-sky so that I might control the conditions under which the pants grow.' 'I should clarify, Miss Loree.' The king interjected, 'Denariel here is my personal alchemist. You will be protecting him as he searches the kingdom for specific plants that are required for a concoction. This might seem almost menial, but I assure you it is of the utmost importance.' He rubbed at the bridge of his nose with his forefinger and thumb as if he felt strained.
  12. Wayfarer

    Of a Remedial Nature

    Christoph had arranged a carriage to take himself and the young lady to the market district. There, he had guided her along the cobblestone streets and offered anecdotes of the various stalls, shops, and workshops that littered the circumference of the district's square. The butcher's had provided most of her rations as well as a few of the smaller food stalls. They were simple wooden boxes, protected by the sun from canopies that were striped in various colours that varied for each salesman. The Blacksmith's hut was partially outdoors and he was working away at a sword on an anvil when they had arrived. The furnace raged and was plentifully fed its coals so that it might continue to meld various metals to it's master's whim. It was good that Catalina was there at the King's request; the Blacksmith's workload was so large that she wouldn't have been seen to for another week or so without Christoph producing a warrant of demand. A quick visit to the city's chemist ensured she had the medical equipment and bottles that she required. The fourth chime of the large clocktower in the center of the district announced to Christoph that it was time to make their way back to the palace, and so he ushered himself and Catalina back into the carriage. Christoph started no small talk on the journey. He merely kept his gaze out of the carriage window as if lost in thought. When the carriage came to a stop outside the palace, he finally spoke. 'Miss, I understand the King and Argis have placed a lot of faith in you. This means that I have reason to also.' His gaze turns to her, 'They might be more collected about this matter, however, I am not. I beg of you: Please succeed in this job.' Before Catalina would have had a chance to reply, he was out of the carriage and waiting for her at the bottom of the palace steps. ---------------------------------------- Christoph followed behind Catalina, finally overtaking her once they approached the throne and took his place at the King's right-hand side. King Valmont looked temporarily at the boy before shifting his gaze over to the now-equipped hunter. 'Miss catalina has now fetched what means she requires for this journey, Your Majesty.' He then produced a small, folded sheet of paper from his pocket. 'Here is a list I took of the items and their expenses, as you ordered.' The boy showed the list momentarily to the King before the King nodded and gestured to his Adviser. 'Argis shall take care of this.' Christoph nodded at this and handed the list over to the tall and lanky gentleman who accepted it with a small nod of his head. He looked at the piece of paper over his spectacles before neatly folding it up again and placing it in the top torso pocket of his robe. 'It shall be done, Sire.' He confirmed with a delicate folding of his arms. 'Good.' King Valmont offered a single nod to Argis before turning back to Catalina. A small smile curled up his lips as she spoke, 'Ah, an eagerness I can work with!' He spoke, seemingly joyed that the mission might soon begin. He slowly rose from his throne. The small armoured areas of his Kingly robes rattled as he adjusted the sword at his belt before opening his palm whilst pointing towards the staircase behind him with it. 'If you would kindly follow me, Miss Loree. I shall introduce you to your charge.' He led them up the large stairs case; the lush, purple carpet cushioning their feet as they ascended. Argis was followed close behind but Christoph was nowhere to be seen. The King guided them through a long corridor and through a few more doors and archways before a soft breeze could be felt from the direction in which they were headed. They eventually found themselves on the upper balcony of a square-shaped garden. From the architecture and amount they had walked, it would be easy to tell that this sat in the precise middle of the palace structure. King Valmont looked up at the ceiling where an artificial sunset-sky could be seen. It's falseness was apparent in how the orange faded at the rims into the grey stone that made the ceiling. He sighed and looked down on to the garden below them. A blonde figure could be seen sitting on an ornately-carved wooden chair and appeared to be reading a book. 'There's who you will be escorting, Miss Loree.' He stated as he made his way down a set of stairs that led from the balcony onto the indoor garden. He motioned with a flick of his hand for Catalina and Argis to follow him.
  13. Wayfarer

    Of a Remedial Nature

    King Valmont leaned forward in his chair, his gaze seeming to burrow deep into the woman as he lost himself in thought. He eyed her equipment carefully, or as carefully as he could from the distance between them. Finally, he let his brow relax. Obviously her words had soothed his worries of the arrangement a little. 'Of course. Take all the time you need to prepare. Pray, I ask that you be ready to leave this day due to the urgent nature of this mission.' He clicked his fingers and a boy came running down the long, stairwell of the throne room. He settled next to the King on one knee with his head bowed. 'What would you require, your majesty?' His hair was a sandy blonde and his voice prepubescent; possibly in his early teens. 'Ms Loree here requires equipment. I ask that you take her into the city and provide her with prioritizes visitations to our best weapon smiths and armorers, as well as anything else she might require.' The king smiled as the boy nodded and stood. 'As you wish, Sire.' He turned forward to address Catalina. She would now be able to see that his eyes were a light blue and a light layer of freckles littered his cheeks and the bridge of his nose. He was attired in brown knee-length trousers, which were kept pulled up with braces, and a matching brown jacket. His shirt was a pristine white and matched his tall socks. His shoes were worn and scuffed, but in a used manner rather than that of a pauper. Casually, he approached her and offered a small bow. 'My name is Christoph, my Lady. I shall be your guide.' He rose from his arched over position. 'If it isn't too much trouble, could you please notify me of what equipment you wish to supply yourself with so hat I might organize transport and a quicker route to gather these with you? The King is urgent that you be ready in the quickest of manners.'
  14. Wayfarer

    Of a Remedial Nature

    The king gazed up at the colourful stained-glass roof of the the throne room. The sun was now directly overhead, casting a plethora of colours onto the carpet before him in a dappled pattern. He slowly looked down, settling his piercing eyes on the large, arched doorway of the palace throne room as it creaked open. The multiple guards lining each side of the carpeted walkway stood to attention; their steel armour clanking at the sudden movement. They remained silent and with a hand resting lazily, yet ready, on their sword hilts as was the mandatory when a guest entered the presence of the king. He studied the small form that approached him, a clear furrow in his brow as she drew nearer. He leaned back in his throne with his arms folded as he marginally angled his head towards his adviser; he spoke in a hushed tone. 'This is the one you heard of, Argis?' In response, the adviser tilted towards his lord, keeping his gaze on the approaching woman. 'I-I believe it is, sire.' He also analyzed her movements as he spoke again, 'I had heard from some trusted and loyal sources that she is good a what she does and that she should be able to handle our little task with little to no problems.' He straightened his posture as the woman finally arrived before the throne. Keeping a steady gaze on her, the king sat up straight with both arms flat on their respective armrests. As she bowed and announced her identity, he looked her from head to two, making assumptions as anyone would at a first glance. He thought of her as small. Perhaps a little too small as her height implied fragility to him. 'I see. Ms Loree, I am King Valmont of the kingdom of Lanaria.' He spoke in a loud and precise voice as he nonchalantly turned a hand to gesture to the companion on his left, 'This is my adviser, Argis. It is he who has heard of your deeds and sent the letter appointing you here. However, I must say...you aren't exactly what I had expected. I require an escort. Someone who can guide one of my people throughout the lands whilst ensuring no harm comes to them. It is of the highest priority that they succeed in their mission...and therefore, that you succeed in yours. Are you confident that you can take on such a task? I am unsure of how long the job would last for or of how dangerous it might be, but rest assured that should you prove successful...I would be willing to pay more than I have ever offered for any work the palace has offered.' He leaned back in his throne again, joining his his hands together whilst keeping his elbows on the armrests, eagerly awaiting her response.
  15. Wayfarer

    Of a Remedial Nature

    The palace of Lanaria was truly something to behold. Tall, pearl spires reached towards the sky and reflected it's illuminating rays down onto the city below. Banners hung dotted from various windows, giving the towers a colourful uniformity - dark purple with golden renditions of the kingdom's crest. Almost Elven in ornateness, but belonging to a human house-name. These also fluttered from flag poles at the peak of each spire, rippling in a rhythmic motion with the breeze. The courtyard stretched forward. An array of flowers in all colours and shades rested serenely in curved beds of soil, so that if seen from an aerial point of view, the flowerbeds would appear in the same design as what decorated the banners. A path of polished stone bricks pathed the way to the palace gate, cutting a clear division down the middle of the floral design. The castle entrance: an imposingly large door composed of dark oak and pushed open to reveal the throne room. This was the indication that the king was ready to receive the people, to hear their worries, their petitions, their praise; he sat atop his ornate golden throne in preparation, awaiting eagerly. It might be hard to believe that a man in the same position as the king would appear enthusiastic to sit and listen for five hours of each day to the people's complaints, however today was a separate occasion. 'Where is she? Did you not inform her to arrive the hour of the high sun?' The bearded man turned impatiently to his adviser, a middle-aged man dressed in lavish robes with a pair of spectacles sitting almost snobbishly on the bridge of his nose. There was a small, but well-hidden hint of annoyance in his rough voice as he replies, 'Indeed I did, sire, but as you can see...' he made a lucid gesture with his wrist, directing his palm and finger to point at the stain-glass tower-roof, '...it is not yet of that hour. I beg your patience, your majesty, as I am confident our guest will be arriving promptly.' He continued before mumbling under his breath, 'At least I'm confident the letter stated that...or on my head be it!' The adviser placed the back of his palm to his forehead in an almost melodramatic fashion. The king huffed and pushed back into his thrown, folding his arms and beginning to tap his foot in an impatient manner. 'They had better be here soon...' His voice took on a softer tone. He spoke again, not looking at his adviser but directing the message to him through his almost imploring manner, '...there's too much at risk.' The Adviser gazed down at the king, his brow furrowed into a sympathetic expression, 'Yes...I am aware of that, Sire...'
×