Raider Assault - Air Division

[get_off_my_lawn]

Who: Taryn, Arturia, Nero, Lleld, Katina, Kusuha, Temeraire, bird beastmen npcs, British npc riders and a possible appearance from Viridi
What: Pre-battle and during battle fights against firedrakes, their mounts, and their camp. The plan is here.
When: June 15th our time - early morning (pre-battle) and actual battle
Where: Raider Camp in the West
Warnings: All the things that come with action movies; blood, violence, cursing, etc



[The battle itself will be run in two parts after the initial assault, when the two groups separate. The raiders will use hit and run skirmish tactics once they can properly react, moving in wings of three. We'll successfully capture 25 drakes, and the combined air/ground forces take out approximately 100 men and 100 drakes. Remember there's a nasty shrapnel ceiling launched from the ground forces to keep the drakes from flying too high.]

Comments

[ex_cashcow493]

Instinctively Arturia's body would freeze in place at such a question. The relationship she held with Irisviel would remain a secret for many more months in her eyes, yet this woman already wagered a guess judging by how she held herself? A stoic gaze could only go so far.

Lying had always been beneath her and unlike the woman, so there would be no other option but to confess should it come to that. There remained hope that maybe, just maybe, she misunderstood her.

"I apologize, but it seems I misheard you."

[get_off_my_lawn]

A wolf's nose can tell a lot, such as the scent of nervousness, but it was body posture that spoke even more to the Garou. Taryn met Arturia's eyes evenly, one alpha to another alpha, and repeated her question.

"I asked, when did you take a mate? The wind has not brought me news from Britain of you being mated." And neither had Arthur told her anything...

[ex_cashcow493]

"For news of this nature must be handled delicately." A simple reason, but more or less the truth. Arturia feared for what would be said not about her, but about any potential queen she took on. "Besides, I have a brother and cousin to consider. Their lives have been void of kindness for the most part, so it would be improper for me to boast of my own happiness when they suffer so."

Someday she hoped Irisviel would forgive her for her hesitance.

"How did you hear of it?" Yet, she couldn't stop herself from asking. "It is a well known secret that not even the keenest of observers can catch."

[get_off_my_lawn]

"I didn't hear of it," Taryn replied. "You wear your hair as a mated woman. Nero does as well and doesn't hide that she has a mate."

The werewolf did keep her voice down so this topic would be between the two of them. And to emphasize what she meant, she ran the back of a claw along the braid holding Arturia's hair up. "Until today, I've never seen you bearing a braid."

[ex_cashcow493]

Now she felt the fool truly. To give up her greatest secret through a misunderstanding of this nature wouldn't bode well for her, but perhaps deep down, Arturia wanted to tell someone. The tension in her shoulders dissipated at her touch, showing not an ounce of hostility in the woman's actions.

"I wear my hair in this manner not as the King of Britain, but as a knight. Should I allow it free, surely I would be a distraction on the field of battle with my looks. My knights, as strong willed as they are, will always seek to protect a maiden. I wish to fight with them as their equal, not as someone who needs to be guarded."

With half a laugh coming forth from her throat, she shook her head.

"When we return home from our glorious battle, I shall make the announcement for all to hear. My lady has been waiting patiently for such news, so it would be improper to have her remain in the shadows of our victory."

[get_off_my_lawn]

"You are mated, Arturia. You are no maiden," Taryn replied with a chuckle. She turned and tilted her head up, letting her silvery-grey mane in it's unfettered, unbraided state be seen clearly to the woman two feet shorter than her.

"In Garou culture, the braid symbolizes the bond between mates. Only those who have taken a mate wear a braid in their hair."

It only occurred to her then that she actually used the true name of her people, not that of the beastmen that she pretends to be of. Either Arturia would catch it or not. She should probably tell Arturia about what she really is considering Arthur...

"Forgive me, for inadvertently forcing the matter of you and your mate."

[ex_cashcow493]

Garou? While Arturia couldn't be considered cultured, the term may have been heard in passing. A king hears so much that it would be difficult for her to catch onto every little thing.

"No, I understand why you made the assumption." Without a hint of anger in her tone, it could be seen that she was alright with this. "It felt good to tell someone of my secret. Perhaps I will continue to wear my hair in this manner after I am married. Only if it would not offend, that is."

[get_off_my_lawn]

"It won't offend, though it will end up making you and Nero look even more alike than before," Taryn pointed out. "She may feel the need to accent your physical differences more."

This was Nero they were talking about.

[ex_cashcow493]

"Then I will continue to fit her in uniforms that are appropriate for her physical differences."

Even if the comment was laced with an attempt to troll, Arturia's stoic manner didn't give it away in the slightest.

[get_off_my_lawn]

"Hahaha!" Taryn gave Arturia a hearty slap on the back. "You'll infuriate her."

The wolf waved Arturia over to where the shaman were and picked up one of the bowls. She offered it to the short woman. "Take and drink. Connect with the land under your feet, the air your breathe, the fire in your blood."

She then took her own bowl and drank the small amount of liquid in one gulp. Once that was done, an eye always watching Arturia, the wolf held her arm out for one of the shamans. The beastman took a knife and cut Taryn's forearm, spilling a little blood onto the bowl the werewolf had just drank from.

Before Arturia's eyes, the knife wound healed itself, leaving just a lighter line of fur in its wake to speak of it having even been there.

[ex_cashcow493]

"It is about time someone stood up to her." Jokingly said, it would be easy to tell that the girl made light of the matter of upsetting her cousin. "Perhaps then she would not tease me for what I lack."

All of that would be an spoken as though it were an after thought, the girl choosing instead to heed Taryn's lead as she followed along. With a bowl in hand, she regarded it almost cautiously at first. After the witnessed act, she held no hesitation in drinking from the bowl offered to her.

Tell me if you want me to edit this.

[get_off_my_lawn]

The liquid was a bit acrid, almost reminiscent of alcohol, though there was none in it. Despite some of the beastmen tribes having a tradition of some alcohol before battle, the werewolf didn't agree with it and so she never partook. Eventually, the shamans learned to brew the concoction other ways without it losing its bite. Really, all it did was calm the stomach as many young warriors were prone to prebattle jitters.

Dipping one claw into her bowl (now held by one of the shaman), coating it with her own blood, Taryn reached out to the British ruler and went to move her bangs out of the way with her other hand. She then drew with the bright red blood a symbol on the woman's forehead. It felt very much like an upward arrow.

"Arturia Pendragon, as we face this battle, you are of my blood. I take you into my pack until our enemy is defeated," Taryn said, her voice resonating with that special Ahroun ability to inspire other to follow her into battle. It was never a conscious decision of hers to use, even in cases like this where it really wasn't necessary.

The wolf-woman then dipped her claw back into the bowl and painted a line of crimson on each of Arturia's cheekbones. Taryn then nodded and took her hand back, pleased with how the blood, glistening bright red in the morning light dripping just a tiny bit from the lines, gave Arturia a savage fierceness that the stoic woman didn't normally exude. Perfect for running in a temporary pack with a werewolf.

"Or we fall to an honorable and glorious death"