One step at a time } Aedan

[Elizabeth Arya Saffy]

The fact that Elizabeth was now working for the King of Sangalat was a fact known to none: her cousin insisted that it'd be an advantage to remain as a spy for him, by continuing her life in Samarid as their princess until the King saw fit to attack the Kingdom of Samarid, and challenge the elves to scurry out of hiding. However, Elizabeth was visiting Sangalat for a short period of time: she had matters to discuss with her cousin, the King, and a certain amount of training to receive from him and his men.

Her face was expressionless as she wandered through the dark, dense and mighty forest of Riverwood. She'd heard a lot about this forest and the powerful alongside dangerous creatures that dwelled within it. The mighty power they held and how they obeyd no one. Of course, once the King took over the elves... they'd have to bend to her cousin's will. It was inadvisable to wander through these forests, especially when it was so close to dusk, however Elizabeth was frankly tired of being tied to the Castle and she needed to stretch her legs for a while. Every inch of skin on her body was covered by a dark traveling cloak and her face kept in the shadows by the use of a hood. No one would recognize her to be the Princess of Samarid... not whilst she dressed like a Rogue Traveler. Also, not many knew what the Princess looked like either. It was the Queen who the people was more concerned with.

Her precious, golden sister. Huh, if only. Everyone looked up to Silisa Anja Saffy as the golden Queen, a strong ruler. If only they'd seen the side of her which Elizabeth had been exposed to. Liz sighed softly, a fairly audible sound as she continued to move deeper into the forest. She'd never in fact been in here before, and it didn't strike her that she had no way of finding her way out of this wilderness. She was far too enchanted by the eerie calm that radiated from these woods, it didn't occur to her that this wasn't Samarid... she didn't know these lands at all.

She cast her eye around the forest, curiosity beginning to brew within her. She enjoyed a bit of adventure; an unsuited quality for women, as many often commented, however she wasn't one to give in to the stereotypes. She'd taken training in fencing and also using other bladed weapons, despite the disapproval of her adopted family at this decision. She mastered in the art of any blade-related weapon and had off late also begun to be trained, both physically and mentally by her Cousin's men, to constantly be on her guard and be alert and aware of her surroundings. Men had to make use of what they had, to the best of their ability, if they were to even think about taking over the notorious and minx-like magical folk.

As she wandered further in, and the sun began to fall further low, the peaceful aura surrounding her ceased to exist due to a strange creaking noise. It sounded like something... someone was moving. She immediately came to a halt and looked around herself to look for anyone else who may be out here. "Show yourself!" she demanded, in a soft voice, not wanting to let her guard down so easily. She knew creatures, harmless and harmful alike both lurked these woods: she was hoping that it was merely a harmless creature scurrying to it's home before it got dark, however she needed to remain alert. She couldn't fall victim to anyone or anything that may wish to do her harm. She took in slow, deep breaths, gripping her sword which lay in it's case at her hip, prepared to strike at a second's notice.

[Aedan Filmore]

The Sanglant soldiers had been following him for a while. A trio of men in chainmail, with black tabards over their armour detailed with silver snakes. They were obviously skilled trackers, Aedan had to work to keep ahead of them, if they hadn’t been he’d have crossed back over the border by now and let them either run into some Samaridian soldiers or let them give up and go home. Or waited for one of the creatures that used the forest as a den have their way with them. People didn’t go into this forest for a reason, and that reason was that if they came in here to catch some dinner, they would rather inevitably end up on the menu. Still, he was ready for them.

The first man never knew what hit him. A needlehead arrow at that range pierced his helmet, went through his brain and skull and even managed to prod its head out the other side of the helmet before stopping. He crumpled to the ground. While in life the man had been as quiet as a mouse, in death he crashed to the ground with a cacophony of branches breaking, leavings rustling and rings of mail making metallic tinkling noises as they brushed off of one another. His companions naturally came running to see what had befallen their companion. That was when Aedan struck. While they went to his body Aedan moved through the trees quickly and quietly. One of the men was just turning around when Aedan drew his blade and slashed it through the air in and arc, parting the man’s head from his neck and leaving his to crumple to the ground limply.

The third man was more of a challenge. As Aedan brought his sword back to deal with him the man’s own blade left its sheath and intercepted his own, before the two weapons parted with a clatter. From there they proceeded, steel meeting steel in a flurry of blows. Occasionally their guards weren’t quite strong enough. The Sanglant soldier received a gash across the arm, Aedan narrowly avoided having his chin cleaved in two, escaping with just a graze. They kept trading blows, one after another, in a seemingly endless display. However, the other man hadn’t Aedan’s stamina. Eventually he began to tire, he slashed back with less strength, he was slower in deflecting Aedan’s strikes. Sensing his opportunity Aedan pressed him. He battered down his opponent’s guard then went in for the kill. His blade glided past his opponent’s, in a slash meant to cut his legs out from under him. It didn’t quite do that, but he did manage to cut through mail and slash his knees, sending him falling back. One swift movement and Aedan’s blade was in his chest. The soldier shuddered momentarily, then fell still.

After a few moments, just to ensure he was dead, Aedan pulled his blade free and wiped off the man’s blood on his tabard. He then set about searching the men for any effects that might be of use. A map perhaps, or a letter or something. But there was nothing. Some coins, a couple of keys. The last one he’d killed had had a little locket with a lock of black hair and the name “Anna” carved on it in his pocket. His girlfriend perhaps? Wife? Daughter? Aedan tried not to think of that. If they were just Sanglant men, enemies, faceless opponents, then he could kill them without regrets. When he began to think of the widows and the orphans he left in his wake...he tried not to think about such things. Still, he tied the locket around the man’s neck before leaving. He deserved that much at least.

The sun was beginning to set in the distance when he set off. Despite the plate armour he moved quietly, that had been one of his master’s most important lesson. As a young recruit he had been put in a room filled with bells, glass vases and the like, anything that made noise. He had been given a set of equally noisy plate armour and told to run through the room. Without making a sound. For every noise he made he received a lash with a birch switch. He received many a lash before master Brotch was happy with his performance. Still, tired as he was and trying to deal with the blood dripping from the slash on his chin he would have been deserving of one of his masters lashings just about now. Someone had noticed him. A woman from the voice. But he couldn’t quite see her- no wait there she was. Hand on her blade’s hilt, but her back was to him. Moving stealthily as he could he approached her, hand on his own blade’s hilt. "Well since you asked so nicely..."

[Elizabeth Arya Saffy]

Elizabeth turned with stealth and grace within a blink of an eye, her sword whipping out of it's sheath and slashing through the air as she stood facing her opponent, her hood still shadowing her face. Her grip on her sword tightned further more as she took in the appearance of her opponent. So, perhaps it was foolish of her to hope it was simply a harmless animal who was lurking around: she didn't have luck like that. A male stood, wearing armour that didn't look like it was in it's happiest stage, and neither did his face, for that matter. His blonde hair was unkept and messy, his face looking like it'd been put through hell. Something about his appearance gave Elizabeth the impression that he didn't mean harm for some reason; but she couldn't be sure. A sarcastic smirk had made it's way on it's own accord on Elizabeth's face. She stared at her opponent for a moment, scrutinizing him.

He looked like he hadn't washed for a good while, and even in the dark she could see a slight wearing look dwelling somewhere in his expression. "Did the rusty sense of humour come alongside the rusty armour?" she asked, raising a single eyebrow, however that would probably have been a waste of an expression, considering she doubted her opponent could see her eyes nor anything above it. She took a small step forward, the tip of her sword lingering in line to the man's throat. She tilted her head a little, her sarcastic smile lingering on her face as she continued to study the man. He looked like he wasn't one to mess with: and he certainly looked like he had a certain amount of training, considering the fact that Elizabeth hadn't realized he was approaching her until he spoke. He was stealthy, that was a given. However, something else told her he wasn't all that... dangerous. If he was aiming for the kill, he could've done that without speaking a single word.

But perhaps he enjoyed playing with his prey before he killed them? Much like Elizabeth herself: although, she enjoyed simply torturing the folks who bothered her. She didn't kill, if she could avoid it. Unable to make her mind up herself for whether or not this man was truly a threat or simply someone just bidding time, she thought it made sense to speak once more. She wiped her smirk off her face, tilting her head to the other side, a few locks of her hair falling before her eyes. "Who are you?" she asked, her voice holding the Royal authority to it that it always did: not that she really intended it to. The command had almost become a natural part of her voice. "And avoid using that rusty sense of humour while replying." she added, anticipating a bit of a supposedly-witty comment which wouldn't really answer her question.

[Aedan Filmore]

The girl was fast. In one swift movement she’d gone from still as a tree to pulling her blade from its sheath and slashing it through the air dangerously close to his face. The hood over her face stopped him from being able to tell much about her, although he at least knew from the voice that it was a girl, or a man who’d had a very regrettable accident. A dark cloak stopped him from being able to identify any armour or weapons she wore, although the sword at least let him know that she was armed, and from the speed of her draw that she knew how to use her weapon. She stared at him for a moment or two, the cloak’s rim and her height just stopping him from seeing most of her face, although he was able to see a rather unpleasant looking smirk on her face. He didn’t want to spill any more blood today, nit unless he had to, but his hand remained on his blade. He wasn’t letting his blood be spilled either.

She seemed in rather a good state for someone out in the woods this late. He knew for a fact he hardly looked like a soldier on parade. His armour was in a bad state, it had been far too long since he’d washed and the gash on his chin was the closest he’d gotten to a shave for some time. Still, a sense of humour was not something he’d expected. Well it was only courteous to respond in kind. “Oh yes, got them both in Rivadon. A special offer: buy this rusty old set of plate and mail armour and we’ll throw in a matching sense of humour, a one time offer. Of course they didn’t tell me quite how rusty they were at the time....”. He noticed the girl’s sword nearing his throat and his own blade shot up, out of its sheath and batting her sword away from his neck like a fly. “Didn’t your mother ever tell you it’s not polite to point weapons at people?” He wasn’t quite sure what to make of the girl yet....she definitely wasn’t a refugee. Most of them were filthy and unarmed, she was at least reasonably clean and seemed to know her way around a blade. She might have been a Sanglant soldier...but her accent had sounded Samarid, although he could have been mistaken. So what was left? Mercenary? Thieve’s Guild? Assassin? Tribal wanderer? Any one sounded ridiculous...but any one could be true.

Her voice, now it was a little less panicky, was more authoritative than he might have expected. Whoever she was she had rank, maybe noble parents? But why would a noblewoman be out and about in a forest full of strange and rather hungry beasts on the border between two warring nations? Then again nobody ever pretended nobility were intelligent. It probably had something to do with all the inbreeding: seventeen generations of marrying your cousins tended to make the gene pool a little murky. He noticed a couple of locks of brown hair just spilling out from under the hood as she tilted her head, but no further clues as to her appearance. When she ordered him to answer, and without any of his humour, he straightened in mock solemnity and gave a sarcastic salute, with a tone to match: “Of course, absolutely no humour whatsoever. I’m Sir Aedan Filmore, at your service”.

[Elizabeth Arya Saffy]

Liz's eyebrow quirked up as Aiden battled her sword away from his throat, however, she wasn't going to go down that easily. With a swift motion, her sword was back up, lingering in a similar position however a little further away from this throat this time 'round. Rivadon, did he say? His tone, now that Elizabeth had heard more of it, did infact suggest that he was probably from her Kingd... no. Not her Kingdom. Probably from her adoptive sister's Kingdom. She had to admit, she was inrigued; what was a possible ex-soldier of Samarid doing lurking within dangerous wilderness so near the enemy's kingdom? Didn't her precious sister have greater need of him? Or oh, had she disinherited him too, much as she'd done to Liz. It wouldn't be a surprise. Had he been exiled? Or perhaps... her sister needed a spy around here? But my, a Spy from Samarid would sure have a lot more tact than this male standing before her with rusty armour. He wouldn't in the slightest have even mentioned that he may have any links to Samarid. So perhaps not a Spy.

Then what? Her eyes narrowed at the male as she moved a little to her right, her eyes stuck to the tip of the blade. "No, she didn't." she replied curtly with a bitter smile. Elizabeth never had known her real mother, so there wasn't much she could've learnt from a woman who wasn't in her life. However, for arguments sake, if Liz took her adoptive mother, to replace her mother in this sceanario, she'd still have the upper hand over the male, for her adoptive mother never had adviced her on any form of weaponary... probably because she never intended Elizabeth to use any in the first place. The man, seemed like he was doing a bit of thinking himself, for he hadn't tried to attack her again after pushing her blade down. Perhaps this didn't have to end in blood... but my, one could never tell. Finally when he spoke, Elizabeth confirmed the Samarid accent in her head, although, that wasn't what caught her attention the most this time. He called himself Sir Aedan Filmore. Aedan Filmore.

The name was remotely familiar to Elizabeth. It carried a very known ring to it, and now that she thought of it... so did something in his face. Perhaps this slight familiarity was why Elizabeth had paused to give this man a chance... yet, who was he? Elizabeth hardly ever spent time with the people of Samarid- that was Silisia's job. The only people she knew, would be a few who visisted the Castle from time to time and the only possible way she could've known this male was if he'd been introduced to her in the Castle. Elizabeth frowned, frustrated considering she was unable to put two and two together in her head. "Aedan Filmore." she repeated out loud, in hope that something in her mind may click at hearing the name once more, however, nothing did infact happen. Not to worry, she reassured herself. It would soon come to her: it always did in the end.

"What is your business here, Sir Filmore?" she demanded, without realizing that her sword had automatically edged closer to his torso this time. "What may, a Samaridian - I assume? - be doing so close to Enemy Lands at this hour?" she had no trouble in asking for information in a fairly straightforward manner. When she wanted something: she got it. Right now, what she wanted were answers. He was rugged and shabby, yet he had tact and decent amount of intelligence. He wasn't a mere refugee or a naive wanderer. He wasn't precisely dangerous, but yet, with his ability, he did pose a certain amount of threat to Elizabeth if she wasn't careful; but then again, when wasn't she? The main thing her teacher had taught her, was stealth and caution... at all times. Despite being Royalty, he'd release hell on her if she didn't comply to his rules and learn by his methods. This man, no matter how able, wouldn't be able to out do her, she reassured herself, for she'd been trained to fight with her eyes closed.