1645/Knights and Dragons

Knights and Dragons
Date of Scene:	23 February 2015
Location:	Dun Realtai
Synopsis:	Sir Bedivere meets with Yari Takane, a draconic, Confederate-allied guest of Dun Realtai.
Cast of Characters:	482, 691

---

Yari Takane (691) has posed:
With her Trooper recovered, Centurion Yari Takane has spent her time in Dun Realtai being a good samaritan. The one-armed Au Ra has offered her considerable skill in both the keep's kitchen, and that of the local Inn. Her pair of Medicae have swiftly been offering their services to the sick when not tending to their own injured man. Life, as it is, has been somewhat grand for the foursome of Garleans here on equal amounts injury-leave and active assignment.

Nevermind that the place has roman-style baths very nearly the equal of her home Empire's. The pair of Centurion Yari Takane and the wounded trooper Julus have hogged the baths for an excessive amount of time. Julus' amiable nature seems to finally have broken the ice of the ninja-woman, as voices pour out from the bathing hall.

"Got yer tail, Centurion!" Calls a sing-song voice. There's a hiss, a huff, and a splash as Yari shoves her subordinate back into the waters. It's followed by a feminine 'eep'. Cue another splash, and eventually, girlish giggles and masculine ones mixing. They end, and with some time, the dark-skinned elezan male and the Au Ra ninja come walking out of the steamy area clad in black-and-red uniforms more fit for parade grounds than the battle field. Towels are liberally applied to hair. The pair pause, and exchange salutes.

"Centurion!"

"Trooper!"

"Glory and Honor!" Ends the duo in tandem. Julus walks off towards the greater village, intent on fixing a few damaged roofs as his hair dries. Yari seeks the grand hall, having filched a broom from a closet. Even if she's an officer, she's not afraid of manual laber.

Thus it is that, dressed in a formal uniform, Yari Takane can be found awkwardly sweeping the floor of the Keep with one arm and a tail clutching a pan. Her face is squelched in concentration as she works, taking the task as seriously as any assault upon an enemy.

Sir Bedivere (482) has posed:
In spite of the open hospitality opened to Dun Realtai's latest guests, there have been no qualms about the fact that they're being watched. Villagers have surreptitiously watched the quartet, and there's no doubt that those villagers have been reporting to someone.

That someone is Sir Bedivere, former Knight of the Round Table, and current Lord of Dun Realtai.

One thing perhaps to know about Bedivere is that of all of King Arthur's servants, his were the keenest of perceptions. Little passed by his eyes unnoticed. He saw details that others often missed, both naturally, and also a skill he enhanced through his own rigourous training. It's a skill that he's carried with him into the multiverse.

So it is that when the scratch of a broom tickles at the floor of the great hall, there is a voice that addresses Yari from the shadows.

"Put up your tools." It's soft, gentle in tone; almost feminine in its softness. Has Saber come back? "Such work is hardly befitting a guest."

A figure comes stalks from the shadows, then. No, it's not Saber. This person is far too tall, a few inches over six feet, but just as composed as the King of Knights. Something is different about the aura of this one; less... regal, but no less proud. Rather than the kingly cloak with its ermine trim, though, this one is clad in chain mail and leather-plate, blue steel and dark brown leather, along with a heavy white, blue-grey mantled cloak of service, much-mended and trimmed with fur as well.

So. Perhaps this is not Saber, but it is obviously someone attached to her, somehow; a knight of some manner, though he – she? – wears no sword. A gloved hand settles over the broom; faded blue-grey, almost violet eyes stare pointedly at Yari. "Put that up. Servants," he adds softly, over his shoulder, never needing to raise his voice. "Tea and something to eat for our guest, please."

They move at once to obey. So, then. Whoever this is, he obviously has some sway in the castle. A visiting dignitary, perhaps?

"Please. Do not trouble yourself with such menial tasks. They are hardly fit for a guest of this place; that is work for servants, and work they pride themselves in."

Yari Takane (691) has posed:
If anything, the fact they're being watched has spurned the Garleans to further good works. Yari intends to see a good impression left at Dun Realtai's doorstep, and has quietly made that quite sharp to her subordinates. Not that it was strictly necessary: Julus was an amiable soul above all else, and the two Medicae possess that healer's care.

Yari might be the one lacking in compassion compared to her three subordinates, if only by a matter of degrees.

Wary eyes draw to the shadows as a voice is heard, imploring her to put away her broom. With a hand upon her implement, the ninja finds herself well and truly cornered. Persist stubbornly, and risk rankling this woman? Man's? feelings or bend to inevitability? With a hiss-filled sigh and a flick of her tail, she relaxes her hand upon the broom.

A long pause, lips briefly tugged downwards before Yari controls herself.

"I am not so high of rank to be beyond these tasks. Still, I won't insult hard working servants." Says Yari quietly as she lets Bedivere pluck the broom. She takes a step back, taking in the person fully. Tall, of a perhaps knightly aura, and full of dignity.

Head tilting and tail curling in curiousity, she offers a sharp salute.

"Centurion Yari Takane of the Fourteenth Legion of the Garlean Empire." Introduces the woman.

A jaw sets. "Then I must insist on helping with the keep's dinner in return. This place has offered hospitality, and frankly saved my subordinate's life. We will repay this act." Comes the woman, quiet but forceful in her words.

She softens marginally.

"What is your name?" She's too uncertain to risk a gender title, here. The young Centurion seems slightly lost on that point of etiquette.

Sir Bedivere (482) has posed:
The broom is taken by a gauntleted hand, leather and articulated blue steel plates. Every piece of armour is in good repair, well-oiled and polished, with little in the way of damage. It only seems to add to that formidable aura, and the knight's clipped, precise language also adds to it. There is an almost musical lilt to it, though it is subtle – Yari wouldn't know it, but it's the same Welsh spoken by the court of King Arthur.

The knight shifts their weight with a rattle of chain mail and a rustle of that heavy cloak, and seems to regard Yari thoughtfully at that protest, as though mulling over the truth of her humility.

"The Garlean Empire. A vast political entity, and a known ally of the Confederacy," the knight murmurs, thoughtfully, moving a little further into the light. More details. Broad shoulders, even without the added breadth of armour. Hair so pale it seems almost white. But no, the lines of the knight's throat are wrong for a woman's; those shoulders are just a hair too broad. Maybe. There's no telling for certain.

The knight tilts his head, frowning slightly. By giving her name, she has bound him to give his own, although he had not intended to be secretive. Perhaps just enough to take her measure.

Quite suddenly, the knight folds an arm to his stomach and sweeps low in a formal bow, chain mail rattling, cloak rustling as it ghosts his movement.

"I am Sir Bedivere, formerly of the Round Table, and current Lord of Dun Realtai. While I admire your dedication, and while I will honour Brehon Law to its letter, I will not endanger my people needlessly. You may clean, you may perform maintenance, and you may do as you see fit within these walls, for such tasks are appreciated. But you will not be permitted near the kitchens or the food stores."

Those violet eyes soften, if only slightly. "I appreciate what you have done, but I must ask that you limit your involvement for tactical reasons. I do not order, yet," he murmurs, "but I will if I must. You understand, I hope."

Yari Takane (691) has posed:
Armor, soft spoken, and after some observation, the lines of a man. Yari is silent, taking in Bedivere studiously. A licks of the lips, another tilt of the head, and she regards the man and his words.

"Correct." She affirms openly. So often as she's subtle, so too can truth be a weapon. It's one she holds close as the man proves himself most wary indeed.

It's enough to tug the Centurion's lips up, tail flicking energetically. An easily lost gesture, but no doubt easily spotted by such keen eyes as Sir Bedivere.

Yari manages to stand just slightly taller in the presence of the land's Lord. Conquerors they may be, but Yari knows when to restrain herself.

"You seek to keep an agent of the Empire from your kitchens?" A guarded look, and another near-smile. She can appreciate the man's wariness. Her skills with poison are great. Luckily, her intentions are pure here.

"Understood. I will not waste your time with words of assurance."

A bite of her lip, and there's a slight look of longing.

"...But I would ask any local recipies of particular style be offered in turn. Mmm." Huff.

"I enjoy cooking."

Then, the woman sits down as she awaits tea and food. In many ways, the subtle dance of diplomacy has been lost in this round. Best to bask in good tea and food here.

"All that besides, I am due a meal. I have met the Lady of this place. I am interested in you, as well. Are you willing to exchange words, Sir?"

Sir Bedivere (482) has posed:
Those violet eyes flick to various points as Yari moves; whether the almost anxious darting of her tongue to wet dry lips, or the flick of that tail. The multiverse has broken him of some discomfort in seeing those inhuman, but he still takes note of those inhuman features.

"I will forbid you from it if I must." Bedivere crosses his arms, regarding the draconic creature warily. "If you are found within them, it would be an unfortunate breach of hospitality, and I would regrettably be forced to eject you and yours from Dun Realtai; your injured man is reasonably healed, I am to understand, and would not be in any immediate danger."

In other words, he could do it in good conscience if he felt threatened. If it were only himself he feared for it would be no breach of Brehon Law, but when it threatens the lives of not just the host but all the host's people...

Well, sometimes he's been forced to behave coldly. If this has to become one of those times, he's not afraid to for the good of Dun Realtai.

"They will be provided to you. You may cook for your men, elsewhere, outside of Dun Realtai. But I will not be changing my mind on this. You will not be permitted in the kitchens," he states crisply, with enough steel in his voice to suggest he isn't going to change his mind. At all.

A gesture summons a servant, and a quiet order sends the woman scuttling into the kitchens for something suitable to eat.

Setting aside the broom, he gestures again as he strides forward, a quick, curt gesture meant to beckon Yari forward into the hall proper. He takes a seat in front of the fire, indicating for her to do the same, a chair across from his own. "I cannot spare much time, but there is some that I may offer you."

Yari Takane (691) has posed:
Yari's head shakes, and tail flicks at once. Despite herself, some amusement comes to her features.

"With due respect, Sir Bedivere, your Lady is a better host." A flick of her mouth.

"But I understand fully. Mmm. Then I will need to offer my own recipies to..."

A small sigh, and her hand runs through her hair.

"But that isn't likely a detail you care for, Sir Bedivere. Well, for the honor of the Legion, I will say this much: I have no intention of violating the hospitality given to myself and my men. Your caution is merited, and understood. Please advise me to anything else required for the safety of your people. Frankly put, I consider this place an opportunity." A bit of bait dangled, even if she's being honest. But to what opportunity?

"Then I will ask a simple, but important question. You look like a warrior. Why do you fight? For what purpose would you draw blood, Sir Bedivere?"

Sir Bedivere (482) has posed:
Slowly, the knight's head tilts to regard Yari Takane. He doesn't seem particularly amused by the observation, frowning slightly from beneath locks of silver-blonde hair. "Of course she is. She is the king; it is expected that her hospitality is above reproach. It is my duty to protect the king."

Wait, what?

...Just which one of these two is the lord, and which is the lady?

"I will see that they are provided to the castle's cooks, and ingredients will be prepared in proper measure. I will not have you or your men in or near the kitchens. I will not bend on this, so I recommend you save the breath you might otherwise use to try. My king can attest that I am an incredibly stubborn man," he states, voice so neutral it's difficult to say whether he intends it as a straightforward statement or as a joke.

Apparently it's serious. His eyes never change. "I can also attest that I am among the most dutiful of the Round Table, and if I feel that you or your men are a threat, you will be dismissed from this place. While it is heartening to see your desire for reciprocity, the aid of the Garlean Empire is neither needed nor wanted here." He folds his arms. "I must still consider that you are Confederate soldiers, and that it is known that this is a Union holding."

"It is one thing for me to offer you my hospitality, which I am to understand would be more than many would offer in such a position. It is another for me to take foolish risks. They are very pretty words you speak, about honour and reciprocity, but words are wind. I have heard such words before. Not always are they truth."

He doesn't say or do anything more, but somehow one might get the sense that the subject is closed, as surely as an iron portcullis slamming shut.

"As a knight, it is my sacred duty to fight in defense of my king. And I have sworn an oath of protection to these people. Too, then, it is my sacred duty to fight in their defense." Slowly, one silvery-pale brow arches. "Of what import is it to you?"

Yari Takane (691) has posed:
Teeth clench, Yari's jaw sets, and then she relaxes. A warrior protecting his superior...

That's something she can understand.

"Mmm. I will not argue further, or insult your integrity. I do not know this 'Round Table', however, I will insist upon every culinary standard." It's her turn to turn a serious gaze to Bedivere.

"Understood. I've no intention of dishonoring my Emperor or Legatus by being a threat here. To put it bluntly, you are a wary, paranoid man, Sir Bedivere. That is likely to this village's benefit. I will not complain. But let us not play foolish. I am aware that several Confederates play home to this place. 'Unofficial Neutral Ground'. I won't try to change your mind about the Empire with words, but..."

A long, deep sigh. Yari's features slacken a moment.

"Defend all you wish, then. I simply want to know who has saved the life of my subordinate, and how I can repay that debt for the glory and honor of Emperor and Legion. You, I think, are not a man to be convinced by words. I will instead offer action. Is that sufficient currency to you, Sir?"

Sir Bedivere (482) has posed:
Bedivere tilts his head almost curiously. In spite of this, he doesn't seem to take offense at anything the draconic woman says. Some might find his neutrality unnerving; certainly many of Camelot's nobility had been enraged by his stoicism in the face of challenge or insult.

That had been a special hallmark of his. If the insult were to his own person, never once had he risen to the bait. Even insults of Camelot itself had received no more than a bland stare.

Still, something in his bland regard seems distasteful over Yari's near fawning over the Garlean Empire. Although he had not done any especial research into them, they are still a known Confederate ally, and he is not inclined to give members of the Confederacy a warm welcome.

"Yari Takane." Mild as the statement of her name is, it's meant to stop her short from continuing on. "I am not interested in your dishonour, your honour, your Empire's gain, or its glory. Spare me this prattle." Bedivere pushes himself upright, looking down at her in neutral regard. "You are correct. Your actions will prove to me whatever impression it is you wish to make, and ultimately, they will either prove to me that you are not lying, or they will prove to me that you were perhaps never interested in anything that would defy your Empire."

He turns on his heel, heavy cloak fluttering behind him. "Stay if you will. Speak with my king, if you will; I do not care if you consider her the better host. It makes no difference to me, for it will not change my mind. Simply do what you came to do, and do not be in my way. And if we should cross paths, for the love of the Lord, stop speaking to me of honour and glory. I have no hunger for either. Sweep the floors, if that is your care, but that will not earn my trust. You are a guest here."

He simply turns on his heel, taking his leave and ascending the stairs. He pauses partway up, while still visible in the stairwell, head turning to address her over his shoulder. "Do not seek to overstep that boundary. You and your men are being watched."

With that, he'll ascend the rest of the steps, without another word.

Yari Takane (691) has posed:
For as much as Yari Takane tries to remain stoic, Bedivere's words strike something in her. Features fall downwards, toes clench, and a small hint of anger flares in her features.

It's been years since she has felt such fury. Slowly, it fades, but the ninja looks upon Bedivere with something approaching disgust.

"Then you do not care for the honor of your enemies?" Teeth clench once more, then relax.

"Your 'care' is irrelevant. I have lived my life for the honor and glory both of the Empire, bled, and near died for it. Suspect me. Insult me all you want. I am a weak, flawed woman. But do not insult my rank or Empire to my face if you have any notion of manners at all." She offers harshly.

Then, the woman's tail swishes, and she offers a bitter smile.

"Watch. Please. I'll show you the honor and strength of our Emperor drilled into our bones."

It's only then, her features hard, that she salutes the retreating knight.

"Good day. I will show you what we are made of, Sir Bedivere."