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 The Things We Cherish, Conan
 Posted: May 12 2018, 05:00 PM

Lightning & Fire
Age: 21
Group Icon

Posts: 14
OOC: Ayami

 Only ignorance excuses stupidity.

The tall, dirty-blonde man laid low on the ridge. Never in a million years would he have ever said that he would be doing a reconnaissance mission, and yet, here he was, scouting out what he hoped would soon be their camp, village, whatever one wished to call it, especially with his best friend and son of one of the most powerful women he had come to know by his side

"So, you wanna explain to me exactly what we're doing again?" Neil's voice was barely a whisper, as he figured that he was supposed to keep quiet and not be found out. They had crept up to this ridge for a reason, and to be honest, the young blonde felt like he was a spy, and he loved it, even though his profession was as a fighter. Maybe, if he ever retired from his life with a sword, he could get into the spy business, but of course that wasn't going to happen anytime soon.

He wasn't as skilled as his best friend, Conan, when it came to this spy stuff, so he looked to his comrade for further instructions. Why he had been brought on this mission he would never know, but the fact that his friend had asked him in the first place showed that it was important. Neil was the type of man whom if his best friend asked him to jump off a cliff into a pit of feral wolves and snakes, he would do it without question or hesitation. But of course, only for those closest to him, and right now that consisted of two people: one who was right beside him and said person's mother.

Conan Alinari
 Posted: May 14 2018, 04:23 PM

Fire & Lightning
Age: 21
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Rage Projection

Posts: 150
OOC: Olly

• they don’t know where we’ve been ; we got that concrete street skin •

While Dragonden was not hostile territory, per say, Conan had decided that their first official scouting of the area ought to be done quietly. The once bustling trade town was now only a scattering of ramshackle temporary houses and a single tavern that had managed to survive during the war, and the residents that lived here were largely rogues and defectors now. When Conan strolled into the town more casually, he was immediately recognized by all with either suspicion or uncertainty, so by remaining hidden Neil and he could calculate the best maneuvers for taking back Dragonden under its rightful flag.

He was crouched low next to his comrade, peering from behind a thicket of bushes at the haphazard smatter of buildings just below. Neil whispered his way, and without breaking his crimson gaze from the town, he answered. “Dragonden was once Caldo’s. We are going to make it Caldo’s once again.” A handful of people were traipsing around through the linen tents that made up a tiny marketplace, but beyond that there was little activity. “There’s not much here in terms of resistance, but for once I would like to cause as little uproar as possible.”

Even at the mention of that, Conan’s mouth twisted somewhere halfway between a grimace and a smirk, both recognizing his growth as a warrior and leader and wholly unenthused by the prospect of a political overtaking, rather than one by the blade. They would need to be ready for a fight, however. Rogues were unpredictable, and the Caldonian defectors may expect persecution or exile if they got caught. “So… what do you think? The area around is pretty open, so not a great town for an ambush…”

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