Stahl

Grumbling, Oscar stitched a patch onto a pair of pants; probably Gatrie’s, guessing by the size. The action was routine and required little thought to it; in and out, in and out. A hiss scraped past his sore throat as he poked himself with the needle again, and he took a second to nurse the sting, sucking on the finger briefly. As he went back to work on the pair of trousers, the knight desperately wished he could be sleeping, or at least cooking; he genuinely enjoyed cooking, and didn’t see it as a chore so much as a different kind of art. Unfortunately for him, there was far too much to do for him to nap, and he wasn’t allowed to come anywhere near the food when sick. Setting the mended garment aside, he picked up a pair of slacks he recognized to be Boyd’s, and let out a raspy laugh when he saw the huge rip straight down the rear. Wiping off snot on the back of his hand, he set on sewing his brother’s pants back together.

Stahl was hungry. He always was, but more often than not, he found himself craving something foreign, something more exotic. When it comes to cuisine, Stahl’s a very simple guy. He’ll take just about anything you have to offer and shovel it down in a matter of seconds, but even that can get tiring. A man can only eat the same foods for so long before he demands something more, something different. It’s for that reason that he’s turned to the Outrealms to satisfy his desire.

Somewhere along his travels with the Shepherds, the team came along this mystical portal called the Outrealm Gate. Hidden in the midst of a dense forest, this gate allows one to travel to alternate times and universes in the blink of an eye. No one can really explain how it works, but ever since the Shepherds first came upon it, Stahl’s been using it to visit foreign lands and try their foods.

He was a simple guy, and with only his stomach to lead the way, Stahl was bound to meet some interesting people. It was under these weird circumstances that Stahl found himself in Crimea - more specifically, outside of Oscar’s door.

Knock knock knock. 

The poor guy didn’t know where he was but it couldn’t hurt to ask anyone, right? "Hi there,” he said, a shyness to him as he slowly walked into the room. He didn’t have the slightest idea what to expect, but he tried to approach the situation with some kind of confidence. 

Miriel met the knight with an icy cold glare and gritted teeth. Still, formalities were formalities. “Hello, Stahl. Thank you for helping me, though it was not with the haste that I desired.”

She began to fix her hat, its shape bent by the crate. “Stahl, if you don’t mind me asking, why exactly were you going to the Outrealms? I trust you, of course, but… something about your sudden departure I find rather… notable.”

“Oh, I was just hungry,” he said, nonchalantly. 

With the soggy crate still at his fingertips, Stahl scurried over to one of the nearby bushes and dumped the cardboard box in there. “Gods, that reeks. You know, Miriel, if you wanted to have lunch with me, all you had to do was ask.”

Making his way back over, he lightly patted Butters on the back and began rubbing at his mane. Softly, the horse began to neigh - Butters always loved people playing with his hair. 

Ponderously, he brought his hand up to his chin and began to think. Truth be told, however, Stahl didn’t have any clue as to where to travel to. His stomach, although hungry, was completely unbiased right now and would settle for anything. It was times like these that he decided to simply put himself in fate’s hands.

Stahl was certain that Miriel wasn’t going to condone his idea. After all, that’s definitely what was being implied, but it brought him an unbelievable amount of excitement to know that she was onboard with this crazy idea of his. Yes, perhaps they could get into some serious danger from this and, of course, they could be risking the possibility of ever coming back, but it was all in good fun!

“Alrighty then, let’s get going! I’m starving!” And without wasting a second, the green knight raced over the Outrealm Gate. It was a giant, stone archway, withered and worn-out through time. Foliage and moss grew all around it’s columns, the greenery nearly masking the ancient markings etched onto the stone. There was definitely a distinct energy to this monument that gave it an air of mystery.

Like a little school boy, Stahl raced over to one of the columns and casually brushed his hand over one of the markings. Slowly, the palm of his hand would hover over a variety of specific symbols and one by one, each of them would begin to glow. The procedure was so normal to Stahl, he honestly didn’t need to think twice about what he was doing. In fact, in less than a minute, a faint blue light began to emanate from the center of the portal, it’s shine growing brighter with each passing second.

Miriel met the knight with an icy cold glare and gritted teeth. Still, formalities were formalities. “Hello, Stahl. Thank you for helping me, though it was not with the haste that I desired.”

She began to fix her hat, its shape bent by the crate. “Stahl, if you don’t mind me asking, why exactly were you going to the Outrealms? I trust you, of course, but… something about your sudden departure I find rather… notable.”

“Oh, I was just hungry,” he said, nonchalantly. 

With the soggy crate still at his fingertips, Stahl scurried over to one of the nearby bushes and dumped the cardboard box in there. “Gods, that reeks. You know, Miriel, if you wanted to have lunch with me, all you had to do was ask.”

Making his way back over, he lightly patted Butters on the back and began rubbing at his mane. Softly, the horse began to neigh - Butters always loved people playing with his hair. 

Ponderously, he brought his hand up to his chin and began to think. Truth be told, however, Stahl didn’t have any clue as to where to travel to. His stomach, although hungry, was completely unbiased right now and would settle for anything. It was times like these that he decided to simply put himself in fate’s hands.

Miriel met the knight with an icy cold glare and gritted teeth. Still, formalities were formalities. “Hello, Stahl. Thank you for helping me, though it was not with the haste that I desired.”

She began to fix her hat, its shape bent by the crate. “Stahl, if you don’t mind me asking, why exactly were you going to the Outrealms? I trust you, of course, but… something about your sudden departure I find rather… notable.”

“Oh, I was just hungry,” he said, nonchalantly. 

With the soggy crate still at his fingertips, Stahl scurried over to one of the nearby bushes and dumped the cardboard box in there. “Gods, that reeks. You know, Miriel, if you wanted to have lunch with me, all you had to do was ask.”

Making his way back over, he lightly patted Butters on the back and began rubbing at his mane. Softly, the horse began to neigh - Butters always loved people playing with his hair. 

“Mind you, that’s not to say that hostility doesn’t exist today. Crimea and Gallia are mostly pretty good about it, if only because we’re the ones spearheading the effort. Though in places like Daein, especially given the values that founded her…“ Titania took a moment to wave down a passing server who promptly refilled her drink. Talking is thirsty work.

“I digress. I guess the short version is that ever since we diverged from that common ancestor we’ve always been in conflict, much to the ruin of Tellius in some way, shape or form. The world was flooded, realms torn apart, slavery, massacres and the burning of nations, continental warfare, world-wide petrification…” Realising she’d been counting these on her fingers and they didn’t sound all that attractive she stopped and chuckled nervously.

Stahl was a pretty simple guy. He didn’t have very many ambitious dreams for himself, and so it was always times like these when he was swapping stories with someone else that he suddenly felt so small in the world... or perhaps, it was times like these where he realized just how much larger the world was around him. It kind of spooked him.

With that realization having been made, Stahl grabbed hold of Butters’ reigns and gave the gentle guy a tug - but nothing happened. Nothing save for the neverending flow of pee that continued to pitter onto Miriel’s crate.

“Butters!” Said the knight, tugging at his horse’s reigns yet again. “Stop peeing on Miriel! Show some common courtesy!”

And after what felt like another good minute of tugging and scolding, Butters finally let out a long sigh of relief; thus concluded the urination session. 

“There! You had a good whiz. Now move out of the way,” he said, somewhat embarrassed by his steed. Gingerly, he inched closer to the box, grabbed it by one of it’s [dry] corners, and lifted it.

Oops.

“Now, now, Miriel. Don’t be hasty. Don’t kill the horse. Stahl likes his horse. And foodie he may be, I don’t think he’d like the taste of fried Butters.”

The mage grasped the fire tome hidden in her robes, sliding her fingers over its leather cover. Just one little spell…

No. That would be wrong. There was only one civilized way to get out of this mess.

No… it couldn’t be… could it?

Wide-eyed, Stahl dropped his lance and ran over to the orange crate. “Miriel?” He exclaimed, unable to process what was happening. 

How is she here? Did she know about the Outre- oh wait, she's a Shepherd, too. Duh. But what was she doing way out here? Wait - was she spying on us?

A thousand questions zoomed through his sub-conscious as he vacantly watched Butters urinate all over her disguise. And yet, despite all the other important things to ask, only one question came out:

Slowly, he drew out his lance. He was about to tread closer to the crate when Butters got excited and beat him to it. Jolly as can be, the horse strode over to the crate and sniffed it.

Sniff sniff sniff.

“What is it, Butters?” The mount continued to sniff at the crate for a few minutes until, after giving it a satisfied huff, decided to pee on the box.

“Of course,” replied Stahl, a determined look in his eyes. “You have my word.”

It was easy to say that Stahl and Sully had been long-time sparring partners. The feisty red knight was one of the first members of the Shepherds that Stahl had genuinely befriended and it was through the hardships of war and their frequently friendly skirmishes that the two of them had grown so close. Nowadays, most of their daily conversation revolved around their day-to-day tasks, training sessions, weaponry - anything of that sort, and so it was quite a shock for Sully to ask him to go shopping with her.

There had been a time, back when she was still a kid and lived at home, when she’d worn many of the types of clothes that were on display. Her wardrobe had contained its fair share of hoop skirts, puffed sleeves, bows, and ruffles, and lace. In truth, she had no real problem with any of it – to each their own, and all – but it was just completely impractical for the life of a soldier. It had been years since she’d last worn a single piece of ruffle or lace, and she honestly hadn’t missed it at all. She never got a chance to wear that sort of thing anymore, so it wouldn’t make sense to spend money on it.

“Heyyy, check this out!” Stahl was walking around the back side of the tent when he spotted a mannequin in the corner modeling some very combat-oriented attire. In fact, he was already inching closer to it when Anna crept up behind him with a curious glance on her face.

“Looks like you’ve found our new Athenian line of clothes!” She said, her saleswoman instincts kicking in. “This year, we’re trying to broaden our sales demographic and reach out to women of all career paths and so we’re experimenting with a new soldier-based fashion line! Inspired by the royal house of Renais, this is the first ensemble from our new season.”

“Nope,” he said, completely nonchalantly. “But my mother would always tell me of it’s power to treat the ailments of mythical creatures, so it’s bound to work on her, right?”

Treating a cold, as unpleasant as it may be, was a simple process: eat, sleep, and recover. A good dose of Vitamin C and some good ol’ soup could go a long way towards restoring a sick patient to good health, but what do you do when that patient happens to be a giant wyvern?

“I mean, Minerva’s pretty mythical… right?” Blissfully optimistic, Stahl was using a big ladle to stir an even bigger cauldron of what appeared to be some magical soup. The pot was so large, it took his entire body to stir the soup inside, it’s contents bubbling like witchcraft.

Attentively, Stahl kept his eyes glued on Minerva, helplessly watching as the giant wyvern practically dragged herself to the cauldron. It hurt him to see such a powerful beast in such a weak state, but here’s hoping that their efforts towards this stew wouldn’t go to waste. 

And so, with bated breath, Stahl watched as Minerva craned down and began to slurp the goopy goodness from the giant pot. He couldn’t exactly tell what she thought of the taste, assuming her sinuses even allowed her to pick up the smell, but he hoped that it worked.