Empires of Ashes Reboot

Mordred strides into the dracian camp, studying the dracian’s and their fortifications as he makes his way to Trajan’s tent

"You have scholars and tradespeople."

Akari: true. Unfortunately they are not exactly my...forte.

mord gets a few looks but that's about it, until the guards of the tent bar his entry
"Halt. State your business."

"Then surely you can put me in contact with someone who could arrange such."

"I could indeed, I suppose."

"Its not urgent of course. The war must be won before such concerns."

"Of course." *she chuckles* "tis something more my forte"

"The very same. However i thought that looking to the future would be advantageous."

she sees her stifle a laugh at that

"Something funny?"

"I've not thought about the future like you say in a long while. I doubt I'll be around to see it."

"I intend to win this war swiftly. What happens after that... Whether Trajan will honour our deal, well... We shall see."

"The question is, if he doesnt what exactly can you do about it?

"Have him killed? The idea has crossed my mind."

"Doubtful. Doing it in the first place with that ogre watching him would require an army. And dealing with the fallout would need a lot more than that."

"I wasn't thinking of storming his tent." The young prince grips the stone of the parapet, looking out over the desert.

"I never said you were."

"But... Lets not be plotters in the night. Shall we? This is what i want to do away with."

"I'm not *chuckles* Just pointing out your...predicament."

"I see it... All too clearly. Trajan is a necessary liability."

"Liability?" *laughs* "He has outplayed you."

His eyes are fixed on the horizon. "Not... Yet."

she pauses
"How old are you, prince?"

"Twenty six summers."

"You *are* young" *chuckles. It becomes clear to ket its kinda impossible to tell the voldamian's age*

"Indeed I am." he looks over his shoulder at her, and affects a courtly smile. "It would be rude of me to ask."

*she rolls her one eye and chuckles*
"Sixty eight"

"Younger than i had been told." He turns his eyes back to the desert.

"is that so?"

"I have people in places."

she snorts a little at that

"Something you find funny in that?"

Mord: “I wish to speak with my uncle”

"I'm curious what places you'd have people in, to incorrectly guess my age"

He shifts his hand from its place in his lap, and rests it upon his helmet, running the thumb through the horsehair plume atop, taken from a desert breed, one of the fine thoroughbreds prized throughout the continent, as their manes, when well groomed shine like liquid bronze.

"If i gave silver to a man to pass me messages from a foreign court, and he should expect payment for the age of a woman i had not met, a noble woman of fine skill or no, i imagine i should take his hand."

"that is a...strangely poetic way of putting it"

"I would not call myself a poet, i doubt i have the education for any real prose." He states rather matter of factly, the subtle meanings of the voldomanians words likely lost in their triple translation.

"you should try it some time. Poetry can be...relaxing"

"Once the task at present is settled, and i find myself at liberty, i shall make a point of it."

she smiles a little
"plus, Armature poetry never fails to make me laugh"

"Amateur." He corrects her politely "This tongue is truly a chore, is it not?"

"A little"

He shrugs "There is nothing to be done for it, i suppose."

"Unless you particularly enjoy the prospect of becoming fluent in voldamian."

"It is enough to speak three languages, i think, i would struggle to find space in my head."

she smiles a little at that

"In any case, i should make moves back to the city centre. I do not take Trajan for a suspicious creature, but it will do not good to have people talk."

"I did not take you for a man to be easily swayed by gossip"

"I am not, but the balance between Trajan and myself is tenuous. And he may be."

"Balance you say?"

"Yes, our alliance is not firm, far from it."