#hatariqueen

Hic Sunt Dracones - or, in layman’s terms: Here Be Dragons. But where the warning inscribed on the monument at the center of town typically indicates dangerous or unexplored territories, it would appear in this case to prove literal. The creature swoops into town, spewing foul breath and roaring defiance. The Knight steps forth ere weapons can be brought to bear, pleading for the townspeople not to hurt it. But will you listen, or stand your ground? Either way, whether you defeat it, drive it out, or something else entirely, you find yourself at the beginning of the story all over again… [Grants Any Weapon +1]

starter for @hatariqueen

Kurth’s breath caught in his throat as the dragon swept down into the town, his heart pounding in his chest. He couldn’t fight a dragon, he just couldn’t. He was a dragon, there was no way that he would ever be able to. He nearly felt his knees give out under him before the town’s knight stepped forward and begged for the dragon to be sparred. He wondered why the knight would defend this dragon, but he was somewhat relieved that this knight was on his side. It would be more useful to agree with the knight that to put up his own protests without any proof or support. Of course, the townspeople didn’t seem to like this approach. He just... he couldn’t fight, let alone fight a dragon. His head hurt, he didn’t know what he was supposed to. He glanced at Nailah beside him, as she had also gotten trapped in this storybook around the same time as him.

You watch as the storybook characters play out their scripted lives, day in and day out.  As though fettered, they stick to their routines; they fulfill their roles - or lack thereof. They do what must be done to keep the main beats of their storybook life going. But what happens if something new and different were to be introduced by an outside force? Will they continue on as if nothing happened? Or will they instead break? Perhaps you might be inclined to find out. [Grants Reason +1]

starter for @hatariqueen

There was nothing in this world that interested them. Not the three-legged reptiles hanging from wires in the market, nor the glittering gemstones in glass cases that were every color and none at the same time, nor whiskered face or hoofed hand of a villager that, otherwise, looked human. Not the meandering streets, nor the top of the highest spire, nor the flat roofs that had been placed like stepping stools from one side of the city to the other, from which Limstella now observed the husk people below as if surveying the vast emptiness of an endless desert. They did not trouble themselves with the how or why they had arrived here either. If this was the afterlife granted to the dolls that had been sustained by their master’s hand, then the time from their death and to their arrival at Garreg Mach monastery was but a fleeting dream - one far more mundane than even Limstella had imagined their end to be.

A shame. That was the only word that came to mind, but it came as if from the outside - a detached narrator for their existence. A shame indeed.

The wind changed directions and tugged strands of ebony across their face. They turned toward it by instinct more than it was to tame their hair, and scanned the distance for the source of the static that had reached them on the breeze. If the lifeforce was not weak, then it was far, so they pursued it along the rooftops, away from the crowded market street.

It grew stronger with each step, electrifying but dry and airy like desert sand, radiating heat all on its own. Limstella could feel it with their skin, as if drawn close to a fire on a winter’s night, and it was just as alluring. They dropped down onto a wrought-iron balcony to search the alleyway between the buildings and spied a figure retreating toward the other end. She looked so much like the animal-humans that roamed the rest of the streets, with tufted ears and a tail of thick fur, that Limstella hesitated. They glanced back out at the main street, but there was no one else it could be. The heat abated with each passing moment, so, decisively, Limstella descended with the help of staggered balconies and awnings along the building’s side.

@hatariqueen

Living in Daein all her life Micaiah had become quite adept at anticipating cold fronts, but her first snowfall at Garreg Mach took her by surprise.

(She had spent two springs there – two of the same springs – after all).

It was a lovely surprise made only better by the fact her dear friend Nailah of Hatari had recently joined the Academy. Micaiah owed the Wolf Queen much for as ardently as she believed in her Brigade she knew their struggle against Begnion would have dragged on further were it not for Nailah and her people’s support; Micaiah admired her greatly and she and her husband Rafiel were some of the first laguz friends Micaiah had made and surely played a great role in accepting that part of herself.

She was the type of queen Micaiah aspired to be, but for now they were both merely visitors to Fodlan and so she saw no reason why they might not enjoy themselves without responsibility for once.

“Milday! Nailah!” Micaiah called, gloved hands cupping her mouth so the other would hear her across the court yard. “It’s over here! The sled I mentioned.”

She gestured to it proudly once Nailah had made her way over. Micaiah had asked for it to be crafted in town and though it had been a rush job she was quite pleased with it. She cannot help but remember being so terribly jealous of the children in Nevassa who played with them during the harsh winters she spent foraging and of all things the nostalgia now brings a smile to her face.

Nailah would know the presence she sensed before her eye alighted on him anywhere. Her ears perked up and she turned, tail swishing under her dress.

"Volug? What a pleasant surprise." She hadn't expected him to come all the way to Fodlan, and it was even more of a surprise to see him at the ball. Still, her people had the right to experience everything outside of their little world as possible. His presence was a reassurance she hadn't even known she'd missed. Someone reliable at her side, a member of her nation, her pack. "I hope all is well back home."

She held out her hand to him and with the other waved to the orchestra to play something more upbeat. "Here, let's show everyone how we dance." Hatari festival outfits usually flowed with bright color, and their dances involved spinning and showing off of prowess and flair.

Volug bows his head deferentially to his queen, but his emotions are betrayed by the wagging of his tail. Quiet though he is, he is a pack animal at heart. The sight of another wolf is enough to relax the tension he hadn't realized he had been holding in his shoulders.

He slips into the more familiar Ancient Tongue, "Yes, Your Highness. Hatari thrives even in your absence. Enough that even I can temporarily leave to improve my speaking." ...Not that he's demonstrating that very well right now, but there are precious few opportunities here to express himself fully.

"Hmmm, do beorc find these fashionable?" Nailah looked at a pair and put them on her head, her own ears sticking up behind them. "I do believe mine are better, but if we are to match..." She held out a white pair to Julia.

"I'm sorry, my lady, but I don't know what a beorc is?" Julia's nose scrunches slightly in confusion as she holds the headband near her head. She seems friendly and warm however, and the way she says the word beorc sounds not like an insult but more matter of fact. Julia only hopes her ignorance can be excused and bows her head. “I’m sorry, there are many things about the world I am still learning. Wait... your ears a real?”

She had assumed they were fake as the ones held in her hands. Perhaps custom made and especially detailed but never in her admittedly short life in Jugdral had she met woman or man with ears atop their heard.

“Pardon my surprise. Such a thing is uncommon to unknown where I hail from however.... yours are very beautiful, milday.” Julia beams up at the older woman. At least she assumes the woman is older, she looks to be around thirty? Older, wiser and with a poise, grace and beauty she would have elsewise deemed supernatural. Julia drinks in the woman with awe and glee, heart pounding in anticipation. Someone so grand and strong had chosen her out of everyone here. “I hope this isn’t insulting but your beauty is striking. I’m a little lost for words, if I’m honest...”