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 Posted: Mon Aug 04, 2014 5:37 pm
After his encounter with the blind man it had been an unsettling account. It made him question things, and he shouldn't be doing that. Not when it came down to his people and their ethics. Luckily he would be able to reconfirm their superiority with the other races by being with others from Oba.
Though he knew that their forces were situated in various parts of Jahaur he hadn't known just where they were. Stumbling across one made him feel, once more at home. And home...meant he had to put on the facade. The dagger and sheath at his belt was enough to announce his importance though not enough to give away who exactly he was. He was son of the Kings General and thus his father was the reason why they had succeeded in the war.
For the most part however, those who had been in the front lines and had seen the horrors of war paid him no mind..or cast looks at him that were snide. But putting on his air of elitism he ignored those looks and was just taking a look around the camp to see if he could find anyone of importance.
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Posted: Mon Aug 04, 2014 10:57 pm
Being a noble in a military camp normally ended in two different scenarios (three, really, but the third was violence and Shal didn't like to think of that scenario, at all.) One, nobles balk and gasp, affronted, over the abhorable conditions, frolicking about on the battlefront as much as they can stomach, blessedly ignorant or determinedly blind to the affronted and contemptuous sneers of the lower-born soldiers around them until they grew bored and returned home. Or two, they lived among the soldiers, suffering their prickly gazes long enough to either be ignored in favor of something more interesting of abhorrent, or accepted into the masses as a useful asset. Of the latter, Shal sometimes found herself wondering what it would be like, to somehow earn the respect of the soldiers- or befriend enough to know she was safe among their ranks, sitting around fires, confident in her abilities and chatting amicably with the fierce-bodied soldiers there.
Instead she was of the other variety - a noblewoman who had stuck through long enough, but still used her rank enough that she was most decidedly NOT of the military variety and was, as such, an other. Excluded from the group, and yet no longer a novelty, Shalvesta was able to exist on the fringes of the camp, in her own rather fancy tent with its bath and relative privacy, left to herself - but no longer earning the stares of those she walked past daily on her way to and from training with her swordsmanship teacher.
If anything, learning how to wield a sword, even if it was slow going and her teacher often complained and barked to anyone who would listen about how dull a student she was, had if anything earned her a bit of a sympathetic nod, at least from the fellow green soldiers who had come to train at this camp. She had her own lessons, by herself, but she still limped back to her tent, covered in sweat and grass, hair mussed and covered in bruises. Wincing at the thought, Shalvesta gripped her hand infront of her, rubbing her wrist and yearning for the solution back in her tent, a numbing salve she'd gotten from the medical tent, which she often rubbed over her blistered fingers and wrist, which was swollen and bruised from her 'avoiding being disarmed' lesson of this morning. A lesson during which her teacher repeatedly hit at her with his wooden sword, only to whack her inner elbow or wrist, inevitably causing her to yelp and drop the sword to the jungle floor.
But it was worth it, if only because this afternoon, as her lips grew dry from lack of water, and her body shook from exhaustion, the hit to her arm, which made her fingers numb and tremble, did NOT result in dropping her blade. Only then had her teacher nodded, complained loudly about how daft she was to have taken so many hours and hits to learn such a simple lesson, then sent her on her way.
Shalvesta had only made it far enough to the mess tent, where she'd filled her waterskin (guzzling enough water that it fell down her front, to the laughs of the large woman who filled it for her), and a wooden plate with military standard foods - high calorie, protein filled, and absolutely disgusting. "Delicious." She sighed, poking at it with a utensil, then sighing as she ate the meaty gruel with a wrinkled nose. Food was food, after all.
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Posted: Tue Aug 05, 2014 10:17 am
Nkole was finding that he was receiving a similar treatment from the various veteran soldiers who would snicker at his passing Nkole ignored them. Though he normally contained a short temper when he was putting on his facade of the 'good son' he seemed able to put his temper aside. Though on the inside he was seething, he was trying to find someone who was in charge to inquire about the troops as well glean any information he felt could be valuable. After all if he returned home without his sister at least with this sort of information at his disposal then his father should at least be sated. Nkole was quick to observe the troops around him. Those who had been seen the front lines were grim and quiet, those who belonged to nobility kept in their own little clicks and looked nervous and twitchy. Though a couple of the noble sons and daughters recognized the family crest on the sheath of his dagger at his hip none approached him, which was fine by him. Nkole didn't want to associate with anyone. It was just easier that way if he needed to twist his story a bit. The smell of food however drew his attention, though he knew they wouldn't just give free hand outs to someone who came waltzing into their camp he would need to actually be apart of the army here to indulge in what food they had. Still his eyes caught sight of a loner, a woman who looked quite disgusted at what was piled onto her plate. Squinting at her he thought she looked familiar but couldn't quite place where. It was perhaps because she looks miserable he choose her as his target to get information out of. Walking up Nkole put on a charming smile, after all he was a good looking young man and he could normally get any information he needed by using his manners and physical attributes. Guessing by the way she was staring at the...gruel she wasn't use to this sort of fan fare and though he was hungry himself it turned his stomach to see the greying mush. "Quite a bit different from what we are use to back home," He started the conversation pleasantly enough, emphasizing the fact that he too was included in that observation. Looking about he then returned his gaze to the young woman. "May I join you?"
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Posted: Fri Aug 08, 2014 10:56 pm
Of course, sweat covered, with water dripping down your front, poking listlessly at a glob of meat was exactly the way any person in high society wanted to make acquaintances with someone else of respectable birth. One moment Shalvesta was glad to throw caution to the wind, knowing in the back of her mind that any soldier who saw her, a noble, here among them, living similarly to how they did, would - if anything - be more likely to sympathize and find favor with her in the future. But a noble? Or, if not a noble, then someone respectable who was a step beyond a normal soldier? It was somewhat mortifying!
Shalvesta had continued her halfhearted meal, sighing as she ate, both pleased for sustenance (because she was so achingly hungry that the taste almost didn't matter), and half aghast at being so used to this plate of strange food. But soon enough it was impossible to ignore the attention of another person, especially when he was smiling at her in a strange way. 'This is the way my father smiles.' She thought - not out of fondness, but out of recognition - because having a father who was a merchant meant that she was accustomed to the smile of someone who was being overly friendly in hopes of striking up a deal, or finding favor with someone. It wasn't a false sort of smile, though, so rather than be put off Shalvesta offered a small smile of her own as well as a bow of her head in greeting.
Her eyes stayed on the young man's face, before she finally dropped them and looked away, used to not being allowed to meet the gaze of a man steadily. His use of 'we' was definitely something she caught - but it didn't volunteer much information. She very much doubted that any Oban, at home and comfortable, ate like THIS - unless they were poor and lived in the slums or on the streets, she imagined - and in that case at least this food was on offer!!
She almost didn't notice the knife - she definitely wouldn't have, if she hadn't averted her eyes, taking in his clothing in order to try and ascertain his status as subtly as possible. His clothing was of a normal style for young men of the Oban nation, but the material was durable while also rich. A noble could be caught among the soldiers due to their impractical and expensively crafted clothing or armor. "Mm... yes - yes it's taken some..." She grimaced, " A lot... of getting used to." Hesitating, she shifted over slightly on the bench she'd made herself at home at, gesturing to the empty space.
Did she want company? Not really - men easily put her on edge and made her feel defensive and nervous, but at the same time he seemed friendly - if she was lucky she might get some information from him, or at least could find another ally here in this camp. "I haven't seen you at training - are you a new soldier?" She asked, softly. This would give the impression that SHE was a soldier and being trained, alongside other new recruits into the army - and Shalvesta was happy to let him believe it. After all, with how often she watched the recruits training, she wasn't LYING exactly- she hadn't seen him among those being trained in the past few weeks.
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Posted: Fri Aug 22, 2014 10:04 am
The young man watched the woman as she went about poking at her meal, it really did look repulsive. But the grumbling in his stomach said otherwise. Food was food, and he hadn't quite mustered up the courage to each the local foliage. He had no idea if it would kill him or not, so he felt it was best to leave fruits and berries he had found where they were. Moving to sit down beside the woman, he made sure to look over at her on occasion before leaning his arms on the table. Being able to sit seemed like a luxury after wandering around half the forest trying to locate his sister and only managing to find a blind blue skinned man instead. "New? You could say that. I wasn't drafted into the military, unlike many others I knew of. I guess my father wanted me at his side to make sure I learned the family trade." Nkole managed to drop a little bit of information to perhaps get the woman curious. "Actually I have been traveling to locate my sister, her name is Yejide, don't suppose you have seen her?" He inquired for any information was useful. IF she hadn't been seen here...then it meant she wasn't in Jahaur. Though now in the camp he was sure to be drafted, and no matter what family crest he bore he would be expected to fight.
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Posted: Thu Sep 25, 2014 4:03 am
Ah. His father - that certainly made him important. It matched along with the insignia on his dagger, at his belt. Sure enough, it made her curious, but also wary - because someone of import might also know her family, and might want to speak with her at length. Suggest she should return home, perhaps, and inquire back to her family to such lengths. As he continued to speak though, the wary look dropped and instead Shalvesta looked mournful, shaking her head.
"No one by that name, I'm afraid, ser." She responded, swirling her utensil in the gruel she was eating. Then she took another bite, ducking her eyes to her plate for a few moments before sparing a glance, out of the corner of her eyes, at the boy. Yejide, a sister - and someone important. It was possible she'd been bumping elbows with someone at the party weeks before - but unlikely, if he had been looking for her any length of time.
And honestly, an Oban of any stature out here wasn't likely to be outside of the noble tents, or the tents for those planning - and certainly not out in the forest, unless she had defected. The thought caught Shalvesta's attention. "Is... is your sister in some sort of trouble?" She found herself asking, setting her plate down against the table and giving Nkole her undivided attention.
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