Mage Knight

"Oh, I suppose I can," Olwen decided to indulge her. "No harm in chatting a bit, right?"

She politely seated herself beside Deirdre, carefully measuring the other woman. For just a moment, her elbows rested atop the table, though Olwen quickly pulled them away. Once she remembered proper knightly etiquette, she instead folded her hands gingerly on her lap, sitting as tall and as straight as she could manage.

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[ DANCE ] It's time to get groovin'! How about you invite a lovely stranger to hit the floor with you? 

[ ROMANTIC STROLL ] Get ‘em, tiger!  Use this opportunity to walk around these beautifully-decorated grounds with the person who’s captured your heart. 

[ CHOCOLATE ] A delicious luxury and a classic gift. Choose from white, milk, or dark, all heart-shaped and ready for your enjoyment.

[ FLIRT ] There’s an art to it! Whether you prefer to be bold or coy, our hosts will remind you that confidence is key. Give it a go?

[ FLOWERS ] It isn’t easy to find roses during times of strife—which makes the bouquets on the table all the more special to give!

[ EMBRACE ] A hug? A kiss? A super-secret handshake? Show someone how happy you are to see them and make their heart soar!

[ TEDDY BEAR ] Forge-A-Bear was kind enough to donate a platoon of button-eyed teddies to adopt and love. Are you and your partner ready for that kind of commitment?

[ TRUST FALL ] They say a relationship is built on trust. What better way to test that than with a fall in front of your classmates and coworkers? They're totally not judging.

[ POETRY ] Think you have the chops to woo someone with a lyrical tug at the heartstrings?

[ COMPLIMENT ] Tell someone they look beautiful, or that you've always admired their strength! Whatever it is you say, make sure it comes from the heart (or at the very least, sounds sincere).

[ 21 QUESTIONS ] The effort to learn about others goes a long way! Just don’t overdo it.  

[ DRINKS ] Beverages both alcoholic and non-alcoholic are offered in assorted glassware. Have a sip!

[ TOUCH UP ] Why not help another with last-minute makeup or outfit touches? Who knows? You just might be able to spark something! 

[ HEARTFELT CARD ] A small table hosts a myriad of card supplies, including paper, markers, and glue. Put your crafting skills to the test and make something truly one-of-a-kind.

[ TASTE TEST ] From chocolate-dipped fruit skewers to little squares of cheese, there are plenty of finger foods to titillate the taste buds. Grab something for yourself… or use one of the handy toothpicks to feed your partner.

[ FORTUNE COOKIE ] Heart-shaped cookies sit on a neat little tray. Inside lies paper fortunes ranging from beautiful skies ahead to… er, well, at least the cookies taste good!

[ CARRIAGE RIDE ] A horse pulls a small carriage that fits two. The entire ensemble is decked out in pink-and-red hearts. Do YOU want to hitch a ride in the Love Cart?

[ KARAOKE ]  Nothing makes people feel as good as when they belt out the lyrics to their favorite tunes! A small band has been hired to perform all of Fodlan’s latest hits—will you cheer on your friends, or will you be the star of the show?

[ PORTRAIT ] Perhaps you'd like to invite someone over to have your portraits painted together? It could make for a stunning keepsake! Or maybe you'd like to try your hand at it yourself?

[ GOSSIP ] With all these people milling around, there’s plenty of room for discussion… like who would make the most adorable couple? Or, even juicier, who has invisible strings tying them together? Do tell!

[ HEART-SHAPED BALLOONS ] Gift one to the apple of your eye, or pop a balloon to reveal the mysterious note hidden inside. Use it to your advantage to spark a conversation!

“Than- ugh,” Alm reaches for her hand and helps himself up, but gets cut off by some further things. “Just a sec-ond,” he holds a finger from his right hand out as he brings his left hand back and softly punches his waist back into place. A rather loud grunt aside, the man is back in top form.

“Phew. As I was saying, thanks. For the help and the knowledge check. I’m more used to working along with horse-riders, not being the horse-rider itself,” he sounds low in tone, but is genuinely taking in her feedback.

Alm turns to the horse that remains in a deadlock stare at their duo. It isn’t really that far, but if he didn’t know any better from the past few minutes, he’d say the horse looks kinda calm. In a tense sense.

And he really gets that riding every horse back is nothing more than a pipe dream. But the imagery of a whole small army of cavaliers…and removing their riders… Okay, the vision has to be a little funny, right?

She sighed, crossing her arms over her chest as she looked at the horse in question. It certainly seemed an ornery thing, she could say that much. The look in its eyes-- that wasn't the look of an animal ready to trust her. They'd need something to sweeten the deal for it, some reason for it to want to trust them. She'd come prepared for this exact circumstance, thankfully. A quick rummage through one of the saddlebags on her own steed preceded her producing a small berry that she tossed in the horse's direction before she turned her gaze back to Alm.

"Don't stare at it," Olwen advised, "that'll only make it more nervous. I wouldn't normally feed my own horse a bunch of sweet fruits on a regular basis, but one or two as a treat won't hurt. More importantly, it's a tasty little treat for a horse. Showing them that we've got a supply of these on hand should hopefully make them eager to follow us in order to get more."

Not that she could say anything with absolute certainty. She didn't know this horse's personality, after all. From what she'd seen, the beast didn't seem particularly bold. It wouldn't trust too easily. She wouldn't be all too surprised if it turned its nose up at anything she had to offer. Still, Olwen figured that it would be better to try and use this as a teachable moment. She pulled a few more berries from the saddlebag, placing them into the boy's hand.

A whinny releases from his temporary mount, and it certainly doesn’t sound like a content one.

“Ohh, cr-”

Thankfully before his crass mouth could elaborate further, Alm makes clean contact with the ground below, his, as it turned out, very temporary mount making its way to the sunset. Well, that’s another failed taming. Good thing the man is getting used to landing on his backside, or it’d be broken and sore by now. Okay, it is still a bit of the latter.

Was attempting a rounding of horses by a guy who doesn’t even mount on one often a terrible idea? It…was, yeah. But Alm at least expected some past experience alongside cavalry, or at least other animals, would prove enough to assist one or two loose steeds. At this rate, the only thing he would be helping is the local healing clergy bill.

Alm tries to spring back onto his legs, yet it appears that several flingings off horseback are finally having an effect on his endurance. He lays there on the dirt and grass (Honestly? Not the worst feeling.) for a fair while, not expecting any real company.

So when company does arrive within his daze, he doesn’t have exactly the best introduction for them.

“...Horses. You’re here…for horses?” Alm effectively mutters, at a barely audible volume.

"Yes, I am," Olwen stated simply, eyes darting between the horse and the boy on the ground before her. Should she offer him a hand to help him up, or try to calm the horse first? Olwen only debated it a moment before stepping towards the animal, reaching a hand out towards the panicked creature. The boy wasn't going anywhere, but she couldn't say the same of the horse. Deal with it first, make sure it was calm and unlikely to try and bolt, then help her compatriot. The first step was always to make sure the animal didn't perceive her as a threat, so she needed to present herself for it to investigate before trying to get closer.

...Well, apparently that first step was one she shouldn't have taken, because the horse didn't seem to care for her attempt to calm it. After a snort and a whinny, it turned around and trotted a few paces away. With some distance in between them, the horse turned and stared them down, awaiting their next move. A small sigh left the knight as she let her hand drop to her side before extending it towards the boy on the ground.

"You know, trying to ride the horses back into camp is only going to make things take longer," Olwen informed him, not considering for a moment that she ought not to add literal insult to injury here. "Unless, of course, you intend to ride every horse at the same time. It would be much faster to lead them back in a group. Besides, they'll be more comfortable in a group. The presence of other calm animals will help keep them from panicking."

The numbers dwindle, already starting small when he had fought alongside them. Parting is necessary and a normal part of life, so Leif tells himself in some pursuit of maturity too, but dulling himself to such acts does not prepare him for the surprise that comes when a person returns.

(How ironic to think so when so many in his army had left and returned due to circumstances too, but yet still he reacts like it's the first time despite knowing— almost as if forgetting.)

He keeps a straight face throughout Olwen's lecture, just as much as she herself had decided to recover her grace and decorum too upon recognizing him in return, taking her reaction as proof that he ought to keep such thoughts to himself.

So consider him surprised when her arm keeps him locked in the classroom.

“ Raise your head, Olwen, ”  Leif invites her to do so, falling back into role of previous commander upon seeing her lower herself so.  “ I'm just as surprised to see you! It's been some time... ”

Questions of what the state of House Friege must be like float around in his mind, alongside feeling as if he ought to let her know of one other thing in relation to that house and its territories... But before that, he should address the current perceived issue on her end.

"Be that as it may," Olwen answered, eyes raising to meet Leif's even as she remained kneeling before him, "had you not known Lady Selfina far longer than you knew me? I can only assume that to be a relationship beyond comparison to ours."

Not that she really knew the details beyond the fact that Selfina and Leif had known each other prior. How long it had been since their previous meetings, Olwen couldn't say. She hadn't exactly bothered to ask, especially given that Selfina had joined Leif's army before Olwen had encountered it to begin with.

Though Olwen knew that some of her peers and allies from Leif's army had made their way to Fódlan, each one she encountered still managed to be a surprise. They were the reason she had come-- word of the land likely would not have reached Olwen at all if others had not arrived before her. Even still, the land was vast, and its troubles spread across its entirety. She had assumed the chances of encountering people she knew was slim.

Olwen had, of course, been wrong. It seemed everyone who had made their way to Fódlan had all gravitated towards Garreg Mach monastery for one reason or another. To be fair, this seemed to be a trend among Fódlan's populace as well, not just the foreigners who came to visit. These meetings were far less likely than Olwen had anticipated.

The fact that some of them were now serving as coworkers still came as a surprise, but it was certainly a pleasant one. Finn, certainly, was a person Olwen was more than happy to see. He had been such a loyal knight to Lord Leif, serving his family tirelessly with every ounce of his strength. She'd heard the tale of how he had fled the castle with Leif in his arms, raising the boy much as a father would. Where Reinhardt had failed in his knightly virtue, Finn succeeded in every way. Perhaps it was he Olwen ought to look up to.

While she knew that taking on teaching atop knightly duties would leave her with less time to herself, Olwen hadn't quite anticipated just how much it would wear her down. Training, serving, and then molding young minds each took so much effort individually. Doing all three was a nightmarish routine.

Olwen had been through war, she was used to the exhaustion of campaigning, but at the very least, that had enemies to blame it on. There were plenty of nights where they'd had enough time to themselves for proper sleep during the liberation war, just as there were extended stretches without. This was less extreme by comparison, but if left unchecked, it would burn her out unavoidably.

Perhaps it was her fault for the amount of effort she was putting in. If she merely skated by in each field, it would be far less taxing. No, she couldn't do that. Anything less than her best was an insult to the people around her, the people who relied on her. She had to keep going, she had to give it her all. If that deprived her a bit of sleep, then so be it. She would just keep going until she dropped.

The costume he's been shoved into is ridiculous and uncomfortable. The helmet is made of some material that flops if soren so much as walks too quickly, and he feels as though it'll rip wide open if he had to run for any reason.

soren could go on with his complaints, but the major one comes up the moment his costar finishes her lines.

She has lines. soren has suggestions.

The management of this production consists of nothing but egoistic philistines, forcing unsuspecting innocents into a whirlwind of a performance schedule with the shoddiest costumes and the bare minimum of what can pass for a 'script'. It's so abysmal that soren is actually offended - so used to being in control of situations and orchestrations that such a poorly managed product is an affront to his very nature, even if he hasn't actually flexed his tactical acumen in decades.

Still. They promised him a paycheck. It's a strong enough motivator, for now. Or it was before his costar stumbles over her words, flinching as though implying the sexual nature of a water nymph she's meant to be portraying has any reflection on her actual being.

Amateur. No, amateur implies a level of passion she utterly lacks.

Fortunately for the imbeciles putting on this farcical production, soren suits the role of a sneering, irreverent deuteragonist just fine. All the insults he's been requested to ad lib come easily to his lips.

"Had I the taste for oblivion, I'm sure a construct as vapid and empty as yourself would be an auspicious source," he begins, taking a step forward, as was instructed. "Though sooner would I drown myself than spend more time in your unsatisfying presence."

His devotion to gold would almost be admirable if it weren't so pitiable. He didn't quite seem greedy per se-- not that Olwen had been granted particular insight into the man's mind. It didn't seem like he was pursuing gold for the power it represented or simply a desire for wealth like the character he had been cast as. Perhaps it was some kind of morality that bound him, that work was deserving of compensation. If that were the case, then there was no doubt he was looking down on her for doing all of this for free.

That thought was a dangerous one. With the concept of condescension in Olwen's mind, it was a little too easy to read into Soren's acting. His sneering demeanor, while accurate enough to the way the script seemed to want Alberich to behave, was quite effective at being irksome. Standing across from him and hearing him speak to her made her skin crawl in a way only one other person had managed. Maybe they ought to have put Kempf in this role instead. He wouldn't even have to act, after all. Soren, though, was just playing a part. There was no actual malice behind it, even if Olwen had to actively remind herself of that.

The lights dimmed, allowing Olwen to scuttle across the stage and take up residence atop another piece of scenery. For as garish as their costumes were, the set designers had done an excellent job. Beautifully painted plywood created excellent illusions of depth... even if Olwen's presence atop it skewed that illusion by virtue of the fact that she was, in fact, the size of a normal person, destroying the forced perspective the artists had worked so hard to achieve. A second outfit was hidden behind the plywood prop, one Olwen could quickly slip on over her existing outfit, though the rhinestones covering her costume made the second look strangely lumpy in places.

As the lights returned, Olwen was... most of the way into pulling her costume on. It had gotten stuck on her other outfit, unfortunately. No time to fix it. Just keep going, pretend it was intentional. She couldn't hide the grimace it brought to her face, but the only one who would have an unobstructed view of that would be Soren, especially with the way the light reflecting off of her overly-ornamental attire would dazzle any observers.

Olwen had been following in Leif's footsteps when she initially came to Fódlan. It wasn't coincidental; the fact that Leif had already gone before her was a significant part of why she found herself there. It was through comrades like Leif visiting the land that she heard tell of the plight of the people who lived there, of the Church of Seiros, and of Garreg Mach monastery. If nobody she knew had gone to Fódlan ahead of her, it was unlikely that Olwen ever would have traveled there herself.

That being said, she had not anticipated circumstances winding up quite the way they did. She had naturally assumed Leif would take up a similar leadership position to the one he had back in Thracia. The fact that he was just a boy had often slipped her mind; even with all of the younger members of the Thracian Liberation Army, Leif rarely struck Olwen as similar to them. From the moment she had met him (well, okay, maybe not the exact moment, he had said some rather immature things following their first meeting), he had seemed head and shoulders above the others of his age in terms of maturity. Such was unfortunately part of the tragedy of war. It forced people to grow up far faster than they should ever have to, robbing children of their childhoods with the same ease it robbed them of family and homeland.

It was, in part, Olwen's own fault for not reading the student register a bit more closely. Even a cursory glance would have revealed to her exactly what Leif was doing at Garreg Mach academy and saved her a bit of surprise and embarrassment. Unfortunately, she had not paid particularly close attention to it, too busy formulating a plan for what she ought to teach and how best to teach it to actually pay close attention to the students she was going to be teaching. Certainly a misstep on her part; catering instruction to her students would be more effective than any general lesson.

While seeing Leif attend the class she was teaching had briefly left Olwen slack-jawed in surprise, she had recovered with as much grace as she could manage. She had done her best to simply not look at him until the lesson was over simply so that she would not be distracted wondering what he was doing there. Certainly Olwen couldn't have anything of value to teach the person whose lead she had been following, right?

Regardless, they had catching up to do. As class was dismissed, Olwen made her way to the opposite side of the room to open the doors for the students herself. She offered a courteous half-smile to each one, wishing them well on their way out, at least until Leif reached her. He, unlike the others, was held back, an outstretched arm barring his progress until the rest of the students had made their way out the door. Once the two were alone, Olwen shut the doors once again, finally turning her attention to the Leonster Prince.

"Forgive me not saying anything sooner," Olwen began, taking a step back from Leif before genuflecting before him. "I had not expected to see you here-- nor for you to be among my students. Forgive me. It is not the place of a knight to give instruction to a lord as I did today."

Whoever that shady figure in the alley that approached her might have been, he clearly wasn't very smart. If he had somehow mistaken a professor for a student, then he was a fool; if he had realized Olwen clearly was not a student and had approached her anyway on the matter, then he was truly beyond help. Regardless, that was a matter Olwen would see the resolution to later. He was already being questioned by one of her coworkers. She, on the other hand, had a lead to follow up on.

Ephraim.

It was not a name that Olwen had any familiarity with, but it was the one that the cheater had given them. Either he had willingly provided his answers to this little cheating ring, or his test had been stolen and used for ill. Olwen intended to get to the bottom of the matter as quickly as possible. At least she didn't need to track him down. She could simply have the message delivered to the boy that they needed to speak. So she sat in an empty classroom, watching the door intently as she awaited Ephraim's arrival. When he did arrive, it would be to a withering glare.

This was humiliating. Having to participate in an opera was already far, far beyond anything Olwen had any remote desire to do. She was no actress, nor had she any desire to be. This was a waste of time. She should be out helping people, not stuck inside a stuffy old theater performing for people. The notion that nobles shelled out such massive sums of money to attend days-long proceedings of these silly little stories was already absurd on its face. The fact that she had been assigned by the Church of Seiros to assist the opera was an additional level of absurdity, but one that she could somewhat understand.

Fine, they needed the support of the wealthy to keep the Knights well-equipped. She would assume an opera company that was allegedly quite renowned would be able to drum up support without begging for the church's help, but apparently she was wrong. For them to be so woefully devoid of actors that they would force her into a role, though? She was not ready to accept that, not even remotely. Unfortunately for her, though, the fact that she had been cast against her will was not the worst part of the ordeal.

No, the worst part was that she had been cast in nearly every single female role.

She hated this silly little outfit with its countless rhinestones. Even she was being nearly blinded by the way the stage lights reflected off of the damned thing. She could only imagine how Soren, her poor costar, was managing to even look in her direction. Maybe it was the stupid puppets she had to carry with her that made him unable to look away. After all, Olwen was currently playing three separate characters at once.

For a moment, silence fell as she glared down at her costar. A king of dwarves he certainly was. Had they only cast him in the role because of his stature? It would have been a laughable notion if Olwen wasn't unable to dismiss the possibility entirely. At least he seemed equally unhappy about being forced to partake in the silly little play. They would both be delivering their lines through gritted teeth today.

"Come, my sisters," Olwen muttered, unwilling to project her voice the way the director had constantly urged her to, "let us sing an ode to the Rhine, and an ode to our father, Wotan, for having entrusted us with such a delightful mission! To be able to frolic in the waters all day while we guard his sacred treasure is true bliss! It is joy far exceeding anything his brilliant, spectacular gold, that which could be forged into a ring with the power to rule the world, could ever grant to someone!"

This dialogue was so lamentably terrible as well. It lacked all subtlety and nuance. How could any noble pay to see something as droll as this? Her eyes silently pled with Soren to stop this charade, to just throw off his costume and be done with it so she would have an excuse to leave. She could not bring herself to quit on her own, no matter how badly she wanted to. Dereliction of duty was unforgivable of a knight.