A buzz of excitement fills the evening air in the normally sober town of Trunau, for tonight there will be a Hopeknife Ceremony. The citizens relish the rare opportunity to come together at the Commons and celebrate. There is only a skeleton crew of Patrolmen manning the gates and the watchtowers, and even those will be relieved partway through the evening so they get a chance to enjoy the festival. More, for lifelong residents of Trunau, each ceremony renews their hope, as a member of a new generation takes the Standing Vow to defend the community against any and all who threaten it. It's an evening to renew the commitments of the past and to look to the future of Trunau ... and for those who don't have any particular interest in either, it's at least an excuse to enjoy food and ale and an evening of leisure.
That was a different schoolmaster, of course; Mr. Phillips had retired two years ago, and Brinya Kelver, who had been one of the older girls when you were at school, has taken over. Brinya always seemed to be a decent sort, from what you saw of her; no doubt, she's a better teacher than Mr. Phillips was. Ruby hasn't aired any complaints about her.
Tonight is Ruby's Hopeknife Ceremony. While in ordinary circumstances, you might take the opportunity to ditch the earnest festival and go exploring while everyone else is at the party, you felt the need to attend tonight for her sake. She is taking the ritual more seriously than you did and was pale and clammy a few hours ago, while combing her hair and putting on her best clothes, worried that she'd lose the tug of war in front of everyone. Despite your assuring her that no one ever loses the tug of war, that it's all an act, that she has nothing to worry about, she persisted in her misgivings. "What if I'm the first one ever to fail the Hopeknife Ceremony? Would I have to leave? Where would they send me? To Lastwall?"
You can see her now, standing nervously between Tyari Varvatos and Brantos Calderon, at the edge of the stage at the southwest end of the Commons, where the ceremony will soon take place. The Iomedaeans look placid and self-assured, not bothered at all by the extra space the Trunau natives habitually give them. You've overheard enough private conversations in Sanctuary to know that's not entirely true, that they are, in fact, slightly hurt by the cautious suspicion they engender, but their faith in the righteousness of their cause is greater than any social awkwardness they may suffer. The pair flank Ruby, standing in the position usually occupied by a Hopeknife recipient's parents, just as they did for you three years ago.
Tonight Kurst and Rodrik are doing the honors on the far end of the rope; you can see them standing near the far end of the stage waiting for the ceremony to begin. At the opposite end of the stage, the twelve-year-old girl whose birthday it is looks pale and nervous. The Iomedaean priestess, Tyari Varvatos, and her colleague Brantos Calderon are standing with her; you remember her vaguely from your time at the temple: an orphan of some kind. You put your hand to your Hopeknife, easily the most valuable item you own. Tonight, the orphan will be welcomed into the community; tonight she'll find a family.
Even you don't know why Tyari was chosen to lead this mission: the younger sister of the Second Sword Knight of the Sancta Iomedae in Vigil in such a dangerous, out-of-the-way place. If there's any truth to the rumors that her tenure is meant to pave the way for Lastwall to attempt to reassert control over Trunau, it's above your pay grade to know about it. Personally, you think she's merely trying to find a good work to do in her own name rather than ride her sister's coattails as she would back home in Lastwall. Why Brantos is here is another story.... Look at them up there with Ruby, standing in the place of her dead parents, Tyari on one side of the girl and Brantos on the other, as if they were a married couple!
Rodrik and his brother will actually be participating in the ceremony tonight, forming a team in a game of tug of war. Apparently, the tradition is for the Hopeknife participants friends to join her on the stage to pull against the two grown men, demonstrating the strength of the community working together. Rodrik confided that the Patrolmen always lose the contest on purpose, drawing it out long enough to make it look like a real struggle before giving in. "The lesson's what's important, and it gives the kids a thrill to think they can beat a couple of grown soldiers," he told you. You maneuver your way through the crowd to a place near enough the raised stage that you can see Rodrik and Kurst waiting to one side, the coil of thick rope in their hands.
"Right... twelve years in and mature enough for suicide... right?
Why is it a hope knife if you use it like that? Isn't hope looking forward to brighter times... not... you know... offing yourself before you get tortured and eaten?
Ahh... so just for the jugular... have you ever sat down to dinner without a knife and thought just this once you'd" miming chopping up a steak "save yourself the trouble of getting up?"
the likely exasperated responses or frowned face forestalling further inquiry and exposition.
An odd figure he struck, the gnome of short stature with a cat clinging to his neck for dear life as the crowd ebbed and flowed around him. Carb's claws were sunk deep and forcefully into the rough cloth that made up his overshirt as if his grip were to fail it would only be even money that the cat would make it out from under the booted feet and mud without injury. The white cat hissed and waves of anxiety flowed out and into Vhailor's brain.
All the attention paid by the gnome was a remonstrative "Ow! Don't be a drama-cat Carb." and a shuffling of his shoulders to shift the errant claw to another position. Ephvhailordren Falkonvilland... Vhailor to those without elaborate claims to grand eloquence... was focused eyes forward and towards the stage area, where his eyes picked out Rodrik. A hand shot forward and upwards, clutched into a fist around what looked to be a garishly coloured maquette of a humanoid-ish figure and waved with vim and vigor towards the half-orc "Roddy! Hey Roddy!" came the cry, a thin and reedy voice.
Anyone who turned to see who was calling would likely have stifled a chuckle... or perhaps rolled their eyes depending upon their predelictions to decency. Nothing about the gnome was quite 'right'. Clothes were equally too big and too small in parts, colours darkened brown and blue with flashes of violet or bright gray. A wispy beard about his face and a pair of glasses upon his nose that didn't seem to hold any glass within the frames. Combined with that a walking staff that seemed grafted together from six or seven timbers - from green to purple to streaked black and white... and topped off by a somewhat terrified looking white cat claws out coiled across a shoulder and clinging to the fabric of his jacket.
Banny has helped herself to a tankard of the ale that Rabus has donated to the ceremonies, and is, accordingly, in a good mood, perhaps bordering on 'a bit maudlin'. Damned if it don't bring back memories of herself a year ago, how she'd been planning to pull alone, and then the surprise of other hands lending themselves to hers-- that sense of... of.... belonging, somewhere.... belonging here.
She tries to catch the eye of the nervous-looking girl-child who's getting ready, to give her an encouraging wink, but it's possible Ruby Wilder doesn't even see her. Instead, she looks around for Kurst, but doesn't catch a glimpse of him at first either-- where-- oh, there he is, on the other end of the rope this time. She chuckles, and lifts her tankard in a silent toast to the girl who's about to become one of them. Well, good enough.
A bobbing ... puppet? catches her eye, and Banny glances down to see the person it's attached to. She tilts her head in bemusement, then shakes her head with a wry snort. Gnomes. The gods must love 'em, she reckons, cuz nobody else does.
"That cat of yours looksh in need of a tree to climb," she says helpfully, to the top of the gnome's head.
For her part, Banny is a typical solidly-built dwarf, though as a rule, even poor dwarves take meticulous pride in their appearance (hair and beards neatly braided or otherwise styled; clean when they can be; and if their clothes are old then they're painstakingly patched), and Banny is, by any real reckoning, a somewhat slovenly dwarf. Her black hair hangs ragged and unbraided, free save for a loose strip of cloth to keep it back from her eyes; her rough breeches and plain tunic might have started life as sack-cloth, and there's many a frayed thread to be found. A broad scar twists visibly across the length of her face, lending a sinister cast to the crooked grin she's shooting at the gnome.
As Banny speaks the cat turns it's head to regard him with tilted head curiosity... but it's features do not weaken from terror or show any hint of recognition of the words. Disconcertingly the moggie's eyes differ in colour, one a bright blue and the other a muddled green.
The gnome turns and shakes his head "Oh no, he's not a tree cat. Not that he doesn't mind heights... more of a bookcase cat..." seemingly now only remembering his manners and half-extending his right hand to proffer a handshake... before remembering it has the puppet in it... then propping his staff precariously against his shoulder to allow the extension of his left hand.
Whether shaken or left unshook his words spill "Grethvhailor Rellkallenfalk... though most don't bother with much beyond Vhailor. Are you here for the celebration of impending o'z joniga qasd." pausing gamely a moment to push his empty glasses frames back up the bridge of his nose with the puppetted hand.
A beat or two passes before he realises that perhaps the dwarf isn't knowledgeable in the Giant tongue before he expounds "The hope-thingy... where she gets the knife." at last letting the dwarf get a word in as he offhandedly mutters "Or a dresser... Carb is fond of dressers."
Perpetually sullen-looking, Alicia's youthful face nonetheless cracks a smile as she attempts to reassure Ruby with a thumbs-up gesture. Arms folded, the girl--she was barely more than a child herself--stands off to the side, a short distance between herself and the crowd mirroring the distance between the Iomedaeans flanking Ruby and the crowd at the edge of the stage. About average height and a bit on the thin side, Alicia wears her hair at shoulder-length, a solid, wheat-blond mass presently bound into a ponytail. Her own hopeknife prominently displayed at her hip, Alicia wears a plain, not-quite-threadbare blouse and trousers bound at the waist by a sturdy leather belt, both of which are an indistinct color of grey. Equally sturdy leather boots adorn her feet.
The girl's eyes wander the crowd, settling on the loud gnome nearby. She narrows her eyes, casing him. Probably as poor as I am, given those clothes of his, she decides with a shrug. Her eyes flit to the dwarf then, still half-lidded. That one too. Still....
Finally tiring of the distance the crowd is keeping from her, Alicia uncrosses her arms and slips into the crowd, heading for the short-folk nearby. "Hopeknife ceremony," she interjects. "Are you two new here?"
Marikel Selentin stands straight and unmoving before the raised platform, a solid rock in a sea of chaos. With his sandy hair and the faintest tan to his otherwise pale skin he could easily blend in with the crowd if it weren't for his rigid stance and his neatly cropped hair. And his full battle dress as a cleric of Iomedae.
He forces a smile for Ruby Wilder at the end of the platform and nods ever so slightly towards her, hoping to lend his strength and discipline to hers. It's not easy being different, alone, and having no one close to...
Marikel's eyes flit briefly to Tyari Varvatos at Ruby's side. He takes a deep breath and focuses.
Despite his demeanour, Marikel is happy for Ruby. This is her chance to become part of the village, to have a home. The other children and the villagers of Trunau will accept her, eventually, though each year is a lifetime to a child her age.
Marikel, however, is sworn to the church of Iomedae. For all the good he may do here, the village knows full well he is an outsider and will never be one of them. Marikel doesn't offend them by trying.
And he doesn't look to the man who stands at Ruby's other side, in the place of her father.
Banny takes the hand the gnome offers with a crooked smirk; her own hand is callused as bad as any sailors, the knuckles rough and horny with a layer of scar tissue, and she grips hard.
"Vhailor, eh," she says. "Folks call me Banny. The Ozee jungle what now? 'm here to shee that girl get her knife, thass right. And," she lifts her free hand, which is filled with a tankard probably about the size of Vhailor's head, "to drink."
At the sound of another voice, Banny turns around, her black brows climbing up near to her unkempt hairline and her face splitting in a broad, crooked grin up at the human girl.
"Nosuch, youngun," she says amiably. "Sported my bit of steel last shummer. Summer." The words are half-muffled into the tankard as she takes a long long drag.
"Him, though," a jerk of her thumb gnome-ward, "I reckon he'sh new."
The tankard lowers, and Banny peers into its depths thinking that the contents are disappearing at an awfully fast pace, before she dutifully looks up to the ceremony again.
Slightly missing the point Vhailor thinks Poor dwarf was either born slow or has a speech impediment... would've been terrible growing up with it, what with the cruelty of children. Mother always said, offer kindness to the least of those around you.
Proffering the same smile and extended hand to the newly arrived young lady Vhailor confirms "I suppose I'm newish to here... but I'd also suppose that here isn't really somewhere that you could get too used to so much that it becomes mundane and passe.. Maybe that's why Master Tobermory came here." pursing his lips and creasing his brow in thought before realising again he'd left a thread half woven.
Sweeping a puppeted arm towards the gates and the wastes beyond "The orcs, the knives, the threat, unus step a malo... wouldn't every moment be fresh and new?"
"Roddy! Hey Roddy!" came the cry, a thin and reedy voice.
Kurst Grath's face twists into an amused smirk as he spies the approaching gnome; he elbows his brother and nods in Vhailor's direction.
Rodrik grimaces, then quickly rearranges his expression into a forced smile, nodding toward the gnome. He seems relieved when Vhailor's progress is interrupted by Banny Kneebreaker.
Alicia's youthful face nonetheless cracks a smile as she attempts to reassure Ruby with a thumbs-up gesture.
Ruby catches the gesture and unfolds her arms just long enough to flutter her fingers in a surreptitious wave before hugging herself tightly once again, looking as if she wishes she could just disappear.
He forces a smile for Ruby Wilder at the end of the platform and nods ever so slightly towards her, hoping to lend his strength and discipline to hers.
Ruby manages a half-hearted smile back before her expression falls back into miserable anxiety. Tyari touches her comfortingly on the shoulder, and the girl sidles closer to her, putting a bit of space between herself and Brantos.
She just waved to someone else in the crowd; glancing in that direction, Marikel sees a couple of familiar faces: Alicia Dawnblade, another young ward of Sanctuary, and the dwarf woman who spent some time recovering at the temple after her rescue from orcs a year ago. Neither of them turned out entirely satisfactorily: Alicia possessing a rebellious spirit, and Banny developing an unfortunate predilection for the local bar. (Tyari has higher hopes for Ruby, who fell into the temple's care at a younger and more tractable age.) The two are conversing with an eccentric-looking gnome wearing a white cat as a stole.
Deciding for a greater show of support, Marikel makes his way across to the small group that Ruby waved towards. His initial intention is to lend his support to theirs, but as he sees Banny and Alicia he decides it may help to lend some respectability to their small group as well.
Still, Marikel's smile is genuine as he approaches the ragtag group.
"Miss Alicia." Despite Alicia's rebellious spirit and somewhat threadbare appearance, Ruby likes the girl and while Marikel wishes Ruby may have chosen a more respectable role model, he instinctively trusts the child's judgement. And Marikel is aware of Alicia's difficult past.
"Banny." Marikel gives another nod. Charity has long been part of Iomedae's work, so Marikel is not unused to working with various unfortunates. While Banny is by no means a respectable citizen, she has Marikel's respect. Marikel has watched the dwarf come so far since her rescue when she was little but a hollow wreck. Marikel likes to think he could face the horrors Banny has faced and come through unscathed. Seeing Banny's strength return he is not so sure.
"Sir." Marikel offers a hand to the gnome that the others are addressing.
"My name is Marikel Selentis, cleric of Iomedae (may her blessings be upon you) and I am pleased to make your acquaintance." While the voice is soft and amiable, pleasure does not appear to be reflected in its tone.
"Marikel," Alicia responds as the cleric inserts himself into the conversation. She turns her gaze back on Vhailor. "I don't know. It seems pretty mundane to me. At least, until you get beyond the walls. And even then it's only a different sort of barren."
You climbed over the burned remains of the front porch and through the first set of doors you found inside. The room looks to have been some sort of infirmary, scorched, wrought-iron bedframes lining the walls. You were walking down the aisle between the beds, heading for another set of doors at the far end of the room, when all at once the beds were suddenly filled with the ghostly images of burned corpses, sitting up and screaming, their mouths ablaze with fire and dripping cinders. Filled with a sudden irresistible fear, you ran back out the front doors and didn't stop until the ruined church was far behind you.
Tracking Marikel's eyeline to the white cat coiled around his shoulder Vhailor shakes his head "No, no... he's not a sir... just a cat really. Can cat's be knighted and what not... I suppose the fae would have the whimsy for it at least.... Chevalier de Chats..." pausing and pushing his lens free glasses frames back up his nose.
Pausing a beat he continues after a limp fingered handshake "Vhailoratrench Geltenfalk... though I have no blessings to offer myself. I suppose I could say Sasa wewe kujisikia hakuna mvua, kwa kila mmoja wenu atakuwa kimbilio kwa wengine.... but you're not even getting married... doesn't seem appropriate now does it?" eyes more admonishing of Marikel for offering a blessing that seemingly couldn't be returned than for any other reason.
Alicia's response draws Vhailor's easily distracted opinion back her direction and he shrugs "In the eye of the beholder or beholding I suppose... or more pertinently depending on how many sharp pointy things are at play in your immediate surroundings." the white cat on his shoulder able to scratch and wrestle itself to a slightly more respectful position now and finds itself seated upon a shoulder rather than clinging to a neck. It sniffs in the disdainful manner of most felines and busies itself with licking a paw.
Alicia's word "barren" is indeed a good description of the view from atop Bloodmarch Hill. The harsh, dry land spreads out to the horizon, unsoftened even by the greenery of the thorny scrubs at this time of year; only barren rock and more bare hills like the one Trunau is built on dot the badlands for miles around. Apart from the town itself, the only unnatural features anywhere near are the burned remains of the old Iomedaean church at the base of the hill and the many abandoned and disused mineshafts which pockmark the cliff itself. There have never been any strikes of significant value in Bloodmarch Hill, the rock inevitably yielding less than the cost of boring into it, both in supplies and in men's lives, but hope (or perhaps greed) springs eternal.
"Indeed," Marikel responds to the gnome, his smile remaining fixed in place.
Marikel turns back to Alicia.
"I was hoping this ceremony might bring some peace and confidence to Ruby. I know that she's been having trouble. There's few here that haven't. Of one kind or another, " Marikel reflects.
"So, Miss Alicia. How did things improve for you after your ceremony?"
Marikel makes a clumsy gesture towards Alicia's hopeknife.
Alicia stares at Marikel for a moment. "Well, people don't think twice about me being armed, now," she says, the statement somehow more menacing than it should seem. "I guess that's something."
Piqued interest in some of Marikel's words lead to a direction of inquiry "Troubles you say? - from what to what and of what? Related to the receipt of the gift? or what the gift implies might needfully be done?... or issues of a different varietal?"
Banny gives Marikel a lazy grin at his approach and formal words. " 'Lo to you too, Brother Marikel. Can I get you somethin' to drink?" she asks, though it's clear she doesn't actually expect an affirmative answer.
The gnome's babble, about half of it in tongues Banny doesn't speak, washes over her like surf on sand. Surf. Sand. For a long moment Banny stares into her mug, something tickling her brain about that. A great glittering sea... hot sun, salty water...
But there's no sea near Trunau, nor anywhere nearby. Lake Encarthan, mayhap, but even that's miles and miles and miles... miles and more miles away. Has she ever even been there...? Is it even salty?
Banny shakes off the mental wandering in time to hear Alicia's matter-of-fact response to Marikel's question. It earns a sharp laugh from her, like a crow's caw. Well, there's honest for you, Mr. Priest! Banny thinks to herself.
She listens with half an ear to the gnome's questioning of Marikel, but Banny is content to listen, content to let the words of others roll past her as she settles into the cradling warmth of minor intoxication.
Marikel's brow furrows at Alicia's response but he turns sharply at Vhailor's question.
"Trunau is not a holiday destination, sir. These people live in enemy lands and face the contant threat of being attacked and wiped out. Most people here have lost family and friends in one or more attacks. Ruby is but one of many of those unfortunates and neither of those people standing beside her share her blood." He glances briefly at both Alicia and Banny before his voice softens a little.
"While the Hopeknife Ceremony is a celebration that this one small village still holds out against the roaming invaders, it also recognises that those granted this honour are expected to lay down their lives to protect Trunau and its inhabitants."
"She's an orphan too? Awesome!" quips Vhailor with a degree of unexpected excitement "Me too, I mean kind of sort of... both my parents I suppose are still alive and all... just Dad and his wood and Mum and her books. You know the deal right? And with Master Tobermory having come to a nefarious end of some kind." at this comment the white cat upon the gnome's shoulder turns almost with some kind of recognition of words, but doesn't stop self-grooming.
"But now it's just me and Carb here... maybe she just needs a kitty of her own? Carb always... well mostly... well sometimes cheers me up." a beat passes "Or a dog... dogs are reliable." addressing Marikel directly with hopeful eyes "Can I go and say hi? - is that allowed? - or do we need to wait until afterwards?"
Before the priest can reply, the clamor of the crowd dies down to a anticipatory hum. A glance up reveals that the Chief Defender has taken the stage. A native daughter of Trunau, Halgra of the Blackened Blades relies on nothing more than her indomitable presence to quiet the crowd. Now silver of hair but her face little lined and her eye and wits as sharp as ever, the woman waits calmly for the stragglers at the back of the amphitheater to file in before she speaks.
"Well," she drawls pleasantly as her eyes roam over the crowd, "what a pleasure to have such a fine turn-out. Of all the duties that come with the title of Chief Defender, the Hopeknife Ceremony is my favorite. I think there's few of us here that don't remember our own ceremony ... at the same time that we hope no one else remembers exactly how long ago it was." She winks at another older woman in the third row as a chuckle rolls through the amphitheater.
"Tonight, we are welcoming into citizenship Ruby Wilder," Halgra goes on. "Ruby may not have been born on Bloodmarch Hill, but neither were any of the merchants and farmers who chose to stand and defend it against the advancing horde two centuries ago, and I trust no one wants to accuse any of them of being less than loyal." Hear, hear a voice in the crowd calls out; no, no another voice sounds, and there is a moment of confusion before it is realized that both are agreeing with each other.
"Some of our finest folk and bravest heroes are those who found their way here from somewhere else and made our Vow their own." Halgra glances down at Ruby at the foot of the stage and gestures to her to climb up. With an anxious glance up at Tyari, she obeys, the Iomedaeans following. "I have no doubt but that Ruby Wilder will make us all proud. Isn't that right, young lady?" Halgra's face and voice are kind, but Ruby's knees are clearly trembling as she nods in response.
Oppressed into shared silence by the gravitas of the speaker, Vhailor looks down and realises he still has a puppet in one hand. Realising his chances of furnishing Rodrick with the gift had cooled he tucked it into an overpocket and gave Carb a pat. Waves of contentedness sallied forth from the cat as Vhailor set himself to listen.
Banny's drawn out of her own musings by the deep, steady voice of ol' Blackblade. She listens, unconsciously standing a little straighter, lowering the mug to her side rather than hovering in front of her mouth.
'Leastwise the gnome's hushed up too, she thinks. She might have felt the need to cuff him a wee bit if he'd talked through this bit. 's important, this bit.
Alicia notes Halgra's presence quietly. Only when Halgra is done speaking and attention turns to Ruby does Alicia call out. "" she cheers, ignoring the looks her outburst engenders.
A chuckle rolls through the crowd at Alicia's enthusiasm; Ruby turns beet-red; and Halgra smiles, amused. The laughter seems slowest to die down in the group of schoolchildren standing near the stage, and the schoolmarm, Brinya Kelver, hustles over to dampen the levity at such a solemn occasion.
Marikel's brow furrows even further at Vhailor's response but his attention is drawn by Halgra Blackblade.
He stands still and attentive and focuses on Halgra as the crowd stills.
Marikel listens attentively and claps occasionally where appropriate. He rolls his eyes at Alicia's outburst but tries to will Ruby with strength and confidence. He discovers it is difficult to both catch Ruby's attention and lead by example.
Alicia stares daggers at the back of one dark-haired girl in the front row.
"Indeed, Ruby," Halgra goes on, still smiling, "we do believe in you, and that is why we are bestowing you with the most sacred possession you may ever own: your hopeknife." She motions to the back of the stage, and Jagrin Grath, the patrol captain, steps up, carrying a small chest reverently in both his hands. "I still have mine, as you see, after all these years." She draws her own dagger, its blade not gleaming steel but blackened by fire, and the children crane their heads eagerly, trying to get a closer look at the warrior's weapon.
Jagrin takes up a position at Halgra's elbow, and she puts away her hopeknife and turns to open the lid of the casket he's carrying. She lifts out a new sheathed dagger on a silver chain, and Ruby looks up, wide-eyed in spite of her timidity.
"Ruby Wilder, this is your hopeknife. By the traditions of Trunau, you have come of age. The hopeknife represents your responsibilities as an adult and defender of Trunau. If the orcs come, do you swear to resist them with all your strength, neither running nor hiding, but standing firm next to your neighbors?"
Ruby nods and manages to stammer out, "I ... I do."
"Do you promise," Halgra goes on, "under no circumstances to surrender neither to allow any of your neighbors to be taken prisoner if you are in any position to intervene?"
"I do," she says a bit more firmly this time.
"And do you swear," Halgra goes on, her voice rising, "if all hope of victory or escape is gone, to use your hopeknife to provide a quick and merciful death, first to your neighbors and finally to yourself?" Using the tip of the sheathed blade, she demonstrates the locations of the major arteries in either wrist and at the throat.
"I do!" Ruby concludes firmly.
"Then welcome to the community!" Halgra concludes, pressing the new dagger into her hands. "Tonight we celebrate Ruby Wilder's passage into adulthood. Trunau forever! Live free or die!"
"Live free or die!" the crowd echoes enthusiastically, adding a few whoops and cheers as they briefly burst into applause. Ruby is beaming, her earlier fears forgotten as she clutches her hopeknife.
Vhailor gets swept up in the enthusiasm shown by the crowd, offering his own "Yeah! Live free" and hopefully not need to kill your neighbours... keeping the last of the words to himself, as was prudent. Once the tumult dies down at least a little he turns to the younger lass beside him and asks "So that was nice... what now?"
As if in response to the gnome's question, the Chief Defender raises her voice once again. "Now," she announces, "our newest citizen will try her mettle against two of our strongest soldiers. Boys?" She grins at Rodrik and Kurst Grath as she and their father escort Tyari and Brantos off of the stage, leaving Ruby standing alone and looking nervous once more.
Rodrik and Kurst leap up onto the raised platform to cheers and applause. Rodrik acknowledges the crowd with a wave and a toothy grin, while Kurst remains in the background, offering Ruby a reassuring smile. Placing one end of the thick rope in the girl's small hands, the brothers take up their positions on the opposite side of the stage. It seems clear that the two strong, young half-orcs could yank Ruby off of her feet without even expending any effort. They stand poised and expectant, waiting for their father to give the signal to pull.
Alicia and Banny know that this is the point at which Ruby's peers are supposed to swarm onto the stage and join her; it's why they all were gathered up front rather than being scattered throughout the crowd with their families. But for some reason, except for some nervous fidgeting, the children don't move. The moment drags out awkwardly. From the floor, Halgra frowns; Brinya Kelver, looking embarrassed and bewildered, is pushing her way back through the crowd toward the children.
Banny is lifting her mug for another sip when she blinks at the realization the children aren't moving. She squints, bemused; damn, but the poor girl looks ready to about keel over.
Even before Kurst's eyes are meeting hers, Banny's feet are actually starting to move: she knows, too well, what it's like to be surrounded by people and to yet feel alone. The primary reason that Banny hasn't left Trunau in this last year-- when there are certainly many other cities she could go to, where the living is easier, where orcs don't pose a constant threat, where she might not have so many reminders of the past... is that at one time, she stood on that stage, alone, and had those who've come to accept her rush to join her. Because there's those here who'll fight for her, fight with her, and Banny doesn't place long odds on that being true anywhere else in the world.
So no, Kurst's gaze isn't needed to set her feet moving. But it speeds her a bit. Banny sets down her tankard firmly on the table nearest, and comes up behind Ruby, clapping the slight girl on the shoulder with a callused hand.
"You don't stand alone, girl," she mumbles in Ruby's ear, and her words are genuine even if they're alcohol scented. Banny grabs the rope in her strong hands.
Marikel is off moving almost immediately. His desire to help Ruby is no longer stymied by formality and he strides onto the platform with a few quick steps. He takes up the rope behind Banny and glares towards the school children.
"Ruby Wilder, defender of Trunau! Trunau forever! Live free or die!" Marikel cheers, hoping to shame some of the children into coming forward.
Alicia snarls and pushes her way through the crowd. She roughly shoves a dark-haired girl forward toward the stage, fixing her and the other children with a withering glare daring them to challenge her.
Brow furrowing for a few moments, Vhailor eventually gets the hint and starts to move forward with the other people that had accumulated around him. Smiling a wide and beaming smile he picks at the rope gingerly... Not really sure what I'm meant to do with this... turning to Marikel and shrugging so as to imply his lack of familiarity.
"Wait for the signal, then pull," Marikel whispers through gritted teeth, his eyes still searching the crowd.
Frowning for just a moment, Vhailor suffers a eureka moment and falls in line. Carb jumps off his shoulder to watch from the side.
Alicia barrels into the crowd of schoolchildren, heading for Zola Sawyer. Zola squeaks as she is shoved from behind and falls onto the ground, catching herself with her hands.
Brinya arrives at close to the same moment. "What in Erastil's name is going on here?" she demands of the children in a harsh whisper, not wanting to distract any further from the ceremony on the stage. "What the--?" She is taken by surprise by Zola going sprawling at her feet.
Up on stage, Ruby lets out a sigh of relief as Banny takes up the rope behind her; when Marikel also joins her, she manages a small smile of gratitude. From the opposite end, Rodrick gives Vhailor a nod of encouragement and surreptitiously holds up his hand with the rope clutched in them, as an exemplar; Kerst chuckles at the sight of the flimsy gnome grabbing a rope he can barely get his small hands around, and Rodrik shrugs.
Among the schoolchildren, some sort of scuffle is breaking out, and the schoolmarm is hurrying over to try to get things in hand. Halgra looks mystified by the way things are unfolding but quickly motions to Jagrin Grath to get the tug of war underway before the ceremony is derailed entirely.
"Right," the Patrol Leader snaps immediately. "Ready, all? One, two, three, pull."
The Grath brothers are surprised by the combined strength of Banny and Marikel, and Ruby's side takes the first steps backward. Having gauged the opposition, however, they continue pulling steadily and reverse the momentum, pulling Ruby's team back to their starting position and then closer to the center line painted on the stage.
With the beginning of the tug of war, cheers and shouts of encouragement arise from the audience which cover the sounds of the disorder in the first rows. Indeed, most of the crowd is likely entirely ignorant of the scuffle among the school children. Once the competition is underway, Brantos quickly excuses himself from Halgra and Tyari and makes his way over to the schoolmarm to offer assistance.
"Here now," he says kindly, bending down to help Zola up, "what's the matter over here, eh?" He shoots Alicia an admonitory glance.