Post by The Iron Ambassador on Dec 1, 2013 14:05:55 GMT -5
Poppy looks around the site where they had camped. It was still dark, it was barely midnight. Moving through the night would be rather unwise. She personally had no rush, and she was somewhat growing to dislike these Freljordians. No patience, brutal and seemingly lacking in the common sense that camping for the night was.
If you wish to foolishly drudge through the night, be my guest. I for one, am staying here for the night. I am not expected in Bandle City anyway yet, so there is no rush for me. I would suggest you wait as well... not because of bandits or such danger... but merely because of what awaits us past the Great Barrier.
She walks over to a nearby tree, bashing off a couple of it's branches and breaking them down to size before throwing them on the fire to keep it running through the night. They would have to go through the Shurima desert, and the treacherous Voodoo Lands to reach the Sablestone Mountains that guarded the Yordle Lands.
After the Mogron Pass, you will have to make your way through the Shurima Desert... a rather dangerous place. The sun scorches you all day, there is no water or prey to be found anywhere, and the sand the desert is made of shifts with the winds, making navigation nearly impossible. You may know how to survive in the tough climate of Freljord... but there are very few creatures that can survive the desert... and without a guide, you will not even reach the Voodoo Lands that stand between the Desert and the Yordle Lands.
And... the Desert is also next to the area known only as Icathia... an area of the world closely attuned to the Void. There are more dangers between the Great Barrier and the Sablestone Mountains which guard my homeland than you know...
"It would be suicide to stay here. They might've had friends, maybe someone heard the clamor. No, we have to camp somewhere else. You said you wanted us to avoid killing, we can't very well do that if people are after our heads."
Making no indication that she intends to stay, Fraya stands rigidly on the path onward.
"Sleep can wait. I have no intention of dying here."
Post by The Iron Ambassador on Dec 6, 2013 14:15:32 GMT -5
You are free to do as you wish... but you are more likely to die wondering around in the darkness without knowledge of your surroundings than here. If the bandits had friends, they would've most likely known about us already, and stuck back due to feeling differently about attacking us, and seeing how none of them survived and all of us did, it is very unlikely they would try and fight when that becomes clear to them. Bandits may be bold, but they are not as foolish as that.
Poppy takes a pot from her pack, filling it with water from a medium-sized container also within the pack and placing it on a hook, dangling above the fire. She then pulls out a small box from a satchel on her waist, opening it and looking at it's contents in the light of the fire. She usually did not drink tea, but on these long journeys across the land, it helped her rest easier.
Whether you move forward through the darkness of night or not, I am staying here. There is no reason for me to rush... and there is nothing you can say that will change my mind.
She then chooses a specific bag of tea from the box, a special blend she rarely could get... but Ionian blends were often the most relaxing, the most effective, and had a rather special taste. So, merely holds the box in her lap, the chosen bag of tea sitting on top of the lid while she waits for the water to heat to a boil, not even looking at the direction of the Freljordians. They probably were unaware of how hard it would be to change Poppy's mind when she makes a decision... if it was even possible these days.
Post by The Iron Ambassador on Dec 11, 2013 14:09:20 GMT -5
Hah, trust me, I am more than capable of protecting myself. I wouldn't travel alone ever if I wasn't. If you plan to stay just for that, you might as well keep moving.
Poppy pulls the bandit blade she had bent earlier from the ground, holding it to the flame in order to heat it up. She would be able to visit her father's forge again when she got back to Bandle City, but there was no rush... there would be more than enough time to relax at the forge... hopefully that pestersome fool of a Captain wouldn't bother her this time... it was enough when last time he tried to coddle her like a child in order to take over something that was related to her past... and not to anything he needed to know.
You are quite unlucky that my father isn't alive anymore... he was the finest smith Bandle City had ever seen... and what he could create from metal was amazing. Yet, his skill was what brought him into the notice of Noxus... and the assassins they employ...
Sighing, Poppy looks at Whomper, standing up once more and walking over to a nearby stone. Suddenly her eyes flash with fury that most would've never seen from the steeled Ambassador, and Whomper begins to glow with similar strength. She swings down furiously with Whomper, the hammer crushing through stone and into the dirt below.
But what pain they've caused me... I will make sure the assassin who is still alive will know what they caused... and no one will stand in my way...
She then turns with a slight chuckle, looking over to the Freljordians with her usual expression.
And that is why you should not worry about my safety...
She sits back down next to the fire, placing the heavy hammer next to her and picking up the bandit blade from the flames, it's edge starting to lightly glow from the heat.
Fraya squints her eyes studiously at the bandit sword, looking as though she believes its existence cannot mean anything good.
"That sword...I didn't grow up a blacksmith's daughter, but I know good steel from bad. That's a finer piece of work than any lowlife down here ought to have, no? Whaddya think? Stolen? Bought? Given?"
Post by The Iron Ambassador on Dec 12, 2013 14:05:31 GMT -5
Most likely stolen. Bandits cannot usually afford a blade of this quality, and most smiths wouldn't make them one either. Especially around Demacia...
Poppy holds the blade against her left gauntlet, looking at the edges. As good as the steel was, the lack of proper care and knowledge had taken it's toll, and the blade was starting to rust. For the bandit's need however, it probably wouldn't matter. Jagged, crippling wounds that a rusted blade would cause would just help them get the gold from their foes... they wouldn't care whether the victims would survive... they were reckless and foolish enough to attack a group of fully armed troops after all.
I might just take this back home... see if I could reforge the blade, as it is beginning to rust and because I bent it. Perhaps give it to the military when it's good enough... perhaps keep it myself as a spare weapon... though I always have Whomper with me.
She places the blade back into the edges of the campfire, heating it up further to see if there was something she could do with it even out on the field.
Unless you are still in Bandle and need a blade to bring home. Unless the quality and what there might be added into the blade would make it too obvious as to where it came from.
"Most folks don't ask too many questions when they've got a blade in their gut. We always need good steel, it'll do regardless of what it looks like. We have our own smiths who can engrave it to make it look more to our style if that's what needs to happen. Maybe my little brother'd like it. He finds you southerners interesting."
Fraya seems to remember why she originally brought the sword up.
"There hasn't been any talk of outlaws having a benefactor, is there? Any reports of increased attacks?"
Post by The Iron Ambassador on Dec 13, 2013 18:44:09 GMT -5
Not to my knowledge. I do not know all that happens in Demacia and it's outskirts... I am a representative of Bandle City after all, not part of Demacia. I only know, what Bandle City needs to know...
Poppy shrugs and looks at the blade. It's glow and the rumble of the flames reminded her of her only true friend within the Golden City. Galio... the Sentinel's Sorrow as some called him... perhaps what she had just said was not completely true, Galio trusted her with basically everything he knew after all, and she did the same to him. Kindred spirits keep no secrets... that's how Poppy saw it at least.
I wouldn't be surprised however if more people tried to become bandits... Freljord was not the only area under assault... Demacia was attacked by the dead themeslves, risen by some unholy force... many good men were lost... but they were repelled.
She continues looking at the edges of the blade as she pulls it from the flames for one last time. She swings it around a couple of times. Balanced well, even after the edges had somewhat deteriorated. This was undoubtedly a stolen blade... even nobles, outside Fiora Laurent, would've been happy with a blade like this... but then again, Miss Laurent didn't exactly use regular swords... but those ridiculously shaped dueling blades.
I'm quite certain that this blade was stolen. This is the quality of smithing that few smiths around here are able to keep up... and those smiths are working with the Demacian military for that reason. This has either been looted from a killed soldier, or stolen from a careless one.
"And if it was looted, do you not think that they'd have to be in a large band? I don't know that much about how Demacian soldiers fight, but if they can equal Noxus, they must be at least competent. If untrained bandits were able to overwhelm Demacian troops, they probably have a strong leader, one who can rally enough forces behind him or herself to be a serious threat."
Fraya takes her whetstone back out, and returns to sharpening her axe.
"Sadly, as thrilling as it would be to fight someone like that, we can't afford to waste time on it. The longer we're down south, the greater the risk we're taking."
Post by The Iron Ambassador on Dec 14, 2013 19:08:38 GMT -5
Perhaps... or they caught a lonely soldier who wondered away from his patrol. To my knowledge, there's been no indication of any sort of sudden organization amongst the bandit, or any sort of sudden change in their tactics or style.
Poppy shrugs and places the blade on the ground. It shouldn't take too long for it to cool so she can place it in some sort of makeshift sheath or scabbard. She looks at Whomper, the hammer giving a slight, constant glow as it leans against her. It often reminded her of her father... as if the hammer was a person, not an object. But... she knew better than to think that.
This blade could also be due to the bandit who had it being a deserter... Someone who felt like Demacia wasn't good enough... and that he'd do better on his own rules. Wouldn't be the first one...
She lifts Whomper into her lap, placing the hammer's handle against her stomach. The weight of the hammer was only really noticeable to her at night when she was tired. It never really occurred to her since she was used to carrying and using it every day for over a decade, but the hammer was quite heavy... probably even on human standards. Where had her father gotten it from... that was something she should try and figure out one day.
Yet, in reality, it usually just means either death in battle against loyal soldiers, or capture and a public execution back within the Golden City.
"We got those back home, too. Good show for the village. My mother usually swings the blade, but once, I was given the honour of executioner."
Fraya looks nostalgic for a moment, but it passes quickly.
"I'll be taking up her mantle someday, but enough about that..."
Digging into one of the thinner bags, Fraya removes what would appear to be a crude-looking map drawn on vellum. As she speaks, she would point to locations on it.
"So, our route will be taking us through...Mogron Pass. Once we've passed the Great Barrier, we should keep as close to its foothills as we can while we travel through Shurima. Few Freljordians have ever gone that far south, and we know very little of things to the south. From what I know, it would be best to pass directly through the Voodoo Lands until we hit the Sablestones. Any part of that need changing?"
Post by The Iron Ambassador on Dec 20, 2013 18:40:29 GMT -5
The Voodoo Lands are perhaps the most treacherous part of the trek... I hear one of the League's champions... Annie, also known as the Dark Child... is from the area. Which means there is a possibility of a child with enough magical power to level a city and the tendency to utilize fire. I suggest everyone is at their sharpest during the trek through there... Annie is usually friendly... but I'm not sure if her people are...
Poppy slowly stands up, picking Whomper up casually and going over to her tent. She sits down in front of it again, looking at the Freljordians.
I think it is time at least some of us take rest... choose who takes the first shift. Wake me up when it is my shift.
She then makes her way into the tent, closing the front of it and starting to prepare for sleep, her keen yordle hearing making sure that she hears anything above a whisper coming from the camp area.
None of the Freljordians move. Instead, all of them sit around the fire, looking at each other. Voll speaks, his gruff voice low, almost a whisper.
"The Yordle seems to think our chances are bad. We should think of a plan for if the Yordle leader refuses us. "
Fraya scolds him with her eyes for his volume. Her words come out quieter.
"Keep it down. You're right, though. We need their equipment."
Fraya looks towards Poppy's tent, as if to check if what she is saying would be in earshot.
"We could take her hostage. We'd have to get her unarmed, perhaps if she were sleeping. But remember, we don't make a move one second before I signal to. We don't want to get on the Yordles' bad side if we don't have to, got it?"
""Understood, m'lady.""
"I'll take first watch, you two get some rest. Jek, you're up soon."
The two Freljordian males walk off to their tent silently.
Post by The Iron Ambassador on Dec 22, 2013 18:14:39 GMT -5
Luckily for Poppy, yordles had a much keener hearing than humans, and despite what the trio outside would think, she was able to hear their discussion. So it would seem they would steep into such desperate actions... perhaps she should mention this to them in the morning... or perhaps not. Let them try, and feel what happens when they try and fight against what the summoners had taken to calling "Diplomatic Immunity".
However, for now, it would be wiser to rest, they weren't most likely going to attempt anything this night, at least from what she gathered from their talk. Yet, it was always better to be prepared... and that she had been. Her tent always had small bells on the side that could be tied to the entrance, clanging loudly and clearly if the entrance was opened while they were there. So, Poppy as silently and carefully possible makes it so that they couldn't get to Whomper without alerting her, which would mean she would most likely have time to protect herself and the hammer from their attempts.
She then lies down and closes her eyes, her mind going through events of both past, and present for a while before she falls asleep...
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