• Closed • At Your Service

[Rafael Warrick]

28th Ymiden 716

The steady clopping of hooves echoed across the landscape just outside Andaris. It was early in the morning. Dew still clung to the grass and the smell of moist, overturned ground impregnated the air. A low mist snaked from the sea across the countryside, trapping the first morning rays of the blazing sun. On the road, a lone rider mounted on a fresh horse trotted across the road leading into the capital city. But the capital was not his destination.

Rafael wrapped his cloak tighter around himself. His breath trailed after him in small puffs of smoke. It couldn’t be much further. This was the road near the Royal Glen where the Knight Malcolm lived on a track of land. So far, Rafael had only spotted a mill and a granary, neither of which matched the description of his destination. So when a small cottage appeared on a hilltop at the side of the road, Rafael was quite certain he’d found his future mentor.

He dismounted his horse and took it by the reigns to lead it up the incline. While his bones were stiff from the long journey, he hardly minded his aching body. His thoughts were with his father who’d sent him off to this Malcolm. While he was glad to receive formal training from a Knight, he sensed his father had sent him away for other reasons. He’d never really fitted in. Too quiet yet too present. A living embarrassment to his father’s honor. A bastard on a borrowed old horse and last in the line of succession. A Warrick in name, but not much else.

He gritted his teeth. Thoughts like these were among the few that got under his skin, and they were irritatingly hard to get rid of.
About halfway up the hill, Rafael tied the loyal old horse to a tree and fed it a carrot from his rations before heading further up the incline. He left his belongings with the horse, save for his longsword which he slung over one shoulder.

For a moment he hesitated. His balled fist hovered above the door. It was early and he might very well wake the Knight. Perhaps more concerning was that he didn’t know what kind of Knight this Malcolm was. For all he knew he’d been sent to an old cripple who needed a squire to prepare his meals and listen to rotten old tales of heroism. Or perhaps he’d been sent away to a cruel master to subdue him. Or perhaps, there wasn’t a knight asleep within the house at all. Perhaps it was all just a ruse to be rid of him.

Sucking in a deep breath, he knocked. Softly first. Then louder.

[Malcolm]

The first fingers of light shone across the horizon, filtered light touching every corner of the bedroom though the old curtains. The window was misted with condensation, and tucked away under the covers on the bed, Malcolm slept peacefully, dreaming maybe, though he seldom recalled the things he dreamt about. It wasn't the warmth of the rising sun but the gentle caress of his partner's loving hand which roused him from sleep.
"I know," he murmured, having expected the young noble to knock on their door sooner or later, in fact he was sure the boy was a few days late.
Malcolm got to his feet and left Elyna to the warmth of the covers, dressing slowly, if only to linger a while longer with eyes fixed on the woman who he would be able to call his wife in two days. He had opted for a pair of dark trousers, a black, long-sleeved shirt, and his leather tabard.
Malcolm answered the door then, an imposing figure, tall and dark of features with a knotted brow and narrowed gaze, his eyes, a deep green, were more often than not mistaken for the colour brown, especially when gazed upon in the shade. He looked over the lad, not knowing what he had expected, someone taller maybe and fair of hair like most of the Warricks he knew. Rafael had grey eyes and jet-black hair, short and tidy, one less thing the knight, who stood sporting a mop of black curls, would have to be on his case about. He took note of the long sword, this having been his weapon of choice for many years along with his throwing knives, a fine sword indeed.
"Warrick?" He assumed, "come in, let's get some food in you."
The house was small but modest, a one bedroom cottage with a bathroom set at the back, and an open plan kitchen and living space. The door to the bedroom had been left closed, but it wasn't difficult to imagine how snug that was if the living room was anything to go by. Malcolm prodded the fire and saw suffocated flames stir to life from beneath the ashes, quickly bending down to pile some kindling on them in order to get it roaring again, that way he would be able to cook some eggs.
"We've got grapes, bread, left over beef stew, or just tea if you would prefer?" Malcolm was good at making himself busy and stalked about the kitchen pulling pots and pans out until he found the perfect pot for boiling eggs. He filled the pot with water about half way and put two chicken eggs inside before setting it down on the hot plate above the fire. "How was your journey from Warrick? It's a long ride, seven trials alone, did you travel with anyone?" The knight glanced over his shoulder to look at Rafael and couldn't help but notice how serious the boy seemed.

[Rafael Warrick]

28th Ymiden 716

He was just about to knock again when the door creaked open. Filling the doorframe stood a man almost two heads taller than himself. A few more hairs and the knight wouldn’t be able to pass through his front door without ducking. The man’s voice was still rough from sleep yet carried tenacity best left unchallenged. At the question, Rafael nodded and casted a glance over his shoulder at his borrowed horse before following Malcolm inside.

The insides of the cottage were humble. More like a hermit’s hut or and old farmer’s homestead than a Knightly household. No greatswords on the wall. No sets of armor in the corners. Just simple home for a person of modest means.

Shifting his weight from one leg to the other, in an attempt to cure the stiffness that had settled into his legs, Rafael stood closer to the resurging fire to warm himself. While the Knight rummaged around in the kitchen, Rafael seized his chance to take a closer look at him. If first impressions were anything to go by, he wagered they would get along. Malcolm was kind so far and didn’t speak more than necessary. A rare quality. His eyes fell on the door leading into, what he presumed to be, the bedroom from which he thought he heard a shuffling sound emerge.

“Beef stew please,” he answered stiffly, not wanting to sound demanding. The mere thought of warm, juicy stew made his mouth water. He’d been stuck with tack, bread, and carrots for the majority of his journey to Malcolm’s home.

“I came alone,” he confirmed as he edged towards a seat, unsure if he was permitted to sit down or supposed to remain standing. He knew how to behave himself amid nobles but dealing with care-free Knights had never been part of his upbringing. “It was cold in the mornings, hot during the rest of the day, and cold in the night again,” he stated rather matter-of-factly. “May I sit?”

If permitted to sit down Malcolm would be able to see a certain tension lift from Rafael’s narrow shoulders. “So how does it work exactly, Sir Malcolm? When do we train and what do we train in? I know how to wield a blade. A bit.” His eyes flicked to his sword in the corner before narrowing. “Not enough to win Tourney’s though,” he added bitterly.

[Malcolm]

"Beef stew it is," Malcolm offered a half-smile, more a brief twist of the left side of his mouth than anything else, and moved over to the fireplace to heat up some stew, boil two eggs, and enough water to make tea for three. He sliced some ginger thinly and set it aside until the tea was ready while he listened to young lord Warrick retell the tale of his journey to the capital.
"Of course, take a seat," he waved before excusing himself to carry a mug of tea into the bedroom along with a bowl full of grapes for Elyna.
After reemerging from the bedroom, he stirred the stew and spoke with his back to Rafael, keeping an eye on the cooking. "Well in my day," he began, "the job of a squire was to fetch a knight's shield, clean his boots or armour if it were asked of him, tend to the horses, and maybe pick up a skill or two along the way, but things have changed since then. Think of yourself as a knight's apprentice," he glanced over his shoulder again at the boy. "Tricky for a young noble, I'm sure, but we all started somewhere."
Malcolm rummaged around in the kitchen for a bowl and spooned some of the beef stew into it for Rafael, sure that it was heated through after testing it with his little finger, which he swiftly blew on before cleaning it off in his mouth, and gave his hand a shake as if the action diminished the burning sensation somehow. He took the food off the heat and sat down with the boiled eggs in front of him. Rafael had mentioned that he was handy with a sword and Malcolm was inclined to believe him, if he had been raised the same way Malcolm had brought up his sons, who were now the heirs to House Krome.
"No good me training you in something I don't know and you don't need," he said before cracking the shell on one of the eggs to start peeling it. "So we will keep up your long sword training, which we can start today, until I set sail for Ne'haer. The timing is a little unfortunate I agree, but as you won't be joining me, I can either introduce you to some other Knights I know, or," he paused, "you could squire for my soon to be wife until I return, she is a Skyrider, and a bloody good one at that."

[Elyna]

A late night had left them both with heavy limbs and deep in sleep. However, the knocking at the door to their home had Elyna sat up in the covers and blinking into the morning. She rubbed sleep from her face before turning and kissing Malcolms back, trying to wake him. It was sometimes, she felt, like trying to wake the dead. He had mentioned the arrival of a potential Squire, and while she’d thought the arrangement was odd, hadn’t said much more about it.

Instead she sank back down, with the covers pulled over her face as he dressed and left. The murmur of voices from the other room stopped dreams from claiming her. Malcolm returned with fruit and tea which she accepted, grateful.
Dressed in breaches and shirt, the grapes devoured and the mug of ginger tea cupped carefully between both hands, Elyna emerged. Hair loose around her shoulders as she studied the two men. Well, Malcolm and the youth. A Warrick? She tilted her head to the side, all the Warricks’ she’d been introduced to were fair. He looked keen though; and rightly wary of the Captain as he sat. Sensible boy. She heard Malcolms praise and felt heat rising along the back of her neck. It had been a concern, that given her propensity for trouble, he thought that she was hopeless as a Skyrider. After all, their last mission had resulted in her hospitalization.

“Good morning,” Elyna approached barefoot across the wooden boards and smiled at the young man. Her voice still husky from sleep. She slid gentle fingers along the back of Malcolm’s shirt, pressing her thumb against his shoulder blades, as though she could ease any tension. She wondered if he would recognize her from her name and studied his expression with care and decided against introducing herself as a Burhan. It was only a matter of time before the name was stripped from her anyway, “I'm Elyna.”

She spied the strange horse, tied to the post through the window before leaning forward to look at the growing collection in the small paddock. Well, they said the more the merrier.

[Rafael Warrick]

28th Ymiden 716

Rafael sat down on the edge of the seat and gratefully cupped his hands around the bowl allotted to him. His eyes followed Malcolm into the bedroom, but he couldn’t see who or what was hiding there. By the time the Knight returned, he’d cast his gaze downward and was idly stirring his spoon in his stew. He sensed the occasional glance being sent at him, but didn’t mind it much. The stew tasted good. Just the sort of meal he’d been hungering for. Thick and hearty.

“Maybe,” he shrugged. If Malcolm meant to say that he’d never had to follow someone else’s orders before, then he was only half-right. In the strictest sense, his noble birth had so far prevented him from being under anyone’s command, with the exception of his father. What Malcolm didn’t know, of course, was that he was seated opposite a half Warrick. And by virtue of being only half a Warrick, he had occasionally been subject to the whims of his siblings. Rafael was more used to serving then Malcolm might expect.

Some day he would have to explain the situation to Malcolm. He could feel it in his gut. But not now. Not today. “I don’t expect to have much trouble with it, unless you tell me to jump off a cliff.” He sent a rare smile at the Knight.

It soon faded at the mention of Malcolm’s travel to Ne’haer. By all means, Malcolm was right to leave him behind. Why would he take an untrained squire, and a stranger at that, with him? Yet Rafael couldn’t help but feel a sting in his chest. He’d always trained hard in the hopes of reaching Knighthood as soon as possible. Knighthood, after all, was only the first step to becoming King’s guard.

“Your wife?” he started. But anything else he might’ve said remained unspoken as the bloody good skyrider in question emerged from the bedroom, more or less awake.

If Malcolm hadn’t told him his wife was a skyrider, Rafael would never have guessed her to be one. She appeared too gentle. Dreamy eyes and soft, warm skin. Not rugged, scarred type he would’ve thought her to be. There were only two options then. Either Elyna had never been close to combat, or she was so good that she never got hit. The latter thought shot a little bolt of excitement through his chest. If she was that skilled, he might very well end up the youngest Knight in the history of Rynmere.

Rafael rose from his seat and gave a curt nod. “Rafael. Rafael Warrick.” He followed her gaze outside. “Ranger is my one my father’s horses. I borrowed him. He used to be fast.”

With all introductions out of the way, Rafael sat down again and devoured his stew at the highest, but still respectable pace.

“Whatever you deem wisest, Sir Malcolm.” A faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “I would be honored to serve a bloody good skyrider, as I am honored to serve you. I can’t say I have much experience flying, or cleaning boots, but if that’s what needs to be done, it will be done.” Pushing the finished bowl away from him, he looked at future soon-to-be man and wife. “I am at your service.”

[Malcolm]

Malcolm looked up at Elyna and smiled before finishing his breakfast, not the stew he had envisioned himself eating that morning but two hard boiled eggs covered in the leftover gravy went down just as nicely. Again he studied the boy and considered his words. It had been a long time since Malcolm had taken on a squire, ranked far above the task he had agreed to accept only out of respect for his friend Ned, a man he had known for a very long time.
"I think it would be best for you to see a bit of the world, I also think it's good for a lad to crawl out from under his family's long-reaching shadow once in a while, but travel can be expensive and if you don't have the coin for your own horse, I find it unlikely that you'll have the thirty and change gold is would take to buy you passage west with me." Sixty-three days on a boat might also drive the boy insane, he thought, especially if he weren't accustomed to such travel.
"So you have two options," Malcolm told him, his voice stern, but it was often difficult to tell whether he was speaking from experience or desire, only wanting what was best. "You sell the horse, Ranger," he grinned, not fond of naming his horses, though it seemed the gelding in the paddock had all but named himself, "and come to Ne'haer with me to get a little experience under your belt, or you can stay here doing what you know, doing what you've always done, and wait for the real training to begin when I get back."
He watched Rafael then, moments ago he had caught a glimpse of a rare smile, and wondered what his words would invoke this time. "Either way, you're getting rid of that horse," the captain smirked, "or you won't be able to keep up with Elyna here," he pointed out some bread he had sliced and asked wordlessly if the woman would like him to toast some for her.

[Rafael Warrick]

28th Ymiden 716

OOC Note

Not sure if you wanted to post first Elyna. But I felt that my reply would be short enough to answer Malcolm and also give you a little more material to work with. Hope it's alright. If not, let me know and I'll happily make any and all required changes!

Obviously the man didn’t like horse. Perhaps he’d been thrown off one too many times? Rafael was a poor rider himself, but the slow ones (like Ranger), he could handle. Though it was tempting to ask why Malcolm wanted him to get rid of the horse, he swallowed the question down and simply nodded. It would not do to antagonize his tutor, or tutors this early on by protesting.

When Malcolm had finished explaining both options to him, Rafael pondered for a good long while.

“I would like to see more of the world,” he started tentatively. “And I might be able to afford a horse…” Malcolm was right about experience too. He’d be right there in the field with a great Knight, able to soak up all kinds of skills. Even if Malcolm would make him clean his boots all the time, it would still be a worthwhile experience.

“But…” he added, “I am unsure of how much help I would be in Ne’haer. I don’t know you, and with all due respect, you don’t know me. I fear I might be more of a burden to you if we have not trained together before we set sail.”

And that was another reason to stay home. Rafael didn’t outright hate sailing, but he’d heard some frightful tales about the sea and the monsters that lurked there. For now, he preferred to keep his boots on good, Rynmere soil.

“In any case, I’ll make sure that Ranger is returned to my father.” His eyes settled on Elyna now. “If I can hone my current skills under your guidance while awaiting your husband’s return, I would be most grateful.”

He wasn’t sure how much his gratefulness was worth, but it was the polite thing to say.

[Elyna]

Elyna smiled in response to Rafaels introduction and nodded back. He seemed fond of the horse, though perhaps the animal had seen past its best days. Her cheeks stained pink at the repetition of her status as a bloody good skyrider and she resisted the urge to shuffle her feet. Instead she planted them, mind drifting as it often did when she was required to stand at attention, thought it had been a few seasons since she’d been required to join the marching drills. Though, if she continued to annoy the major, maybe it wasn’t too long before she was demoted, or sent back to learn her place. Without the protection of her Father’s name, who knew? Maybe they would decide she was poorly qualified to even be an airman.

She pressed her fingers gently against Malcolms shoulder in a squeeze as the exchange passed between the two males. It was hard not to smile when Malcolm turned stern, he was after all a Captain. Every so often she forgot his authority and it sent a shiver down her spine to be reminded. There were so many different sides to him, duty and responsibility he could pull on like a coat; but she was grateful that mostly they were cast aside and she was left with the man beneath. Still, it was fascinating to see the different cloaks pulled on. Elyna shook her head to the offer of toast. The fragrant scent of re-heated stew threatened to undo her breakfast.

“I’d be happy to take you on,” Elyna agreed, she hid the slight irk of annoyance at Malcolms’ promise of the real training beginning when he returned. He was right, rapidly she’d be able to do less, but she could at least keep a Squire out of trouble for a couple of seasons. Whatever thoughts the woman held about Rafaels decision, she kept to herself.

“I’d say the main difference between an airman and a squire, is that we spent more time cleaning stables than riding the horses,” Elyna explained, “whatever your decision, I’d suggest that sleeping at the barracks is a wise choice and you can either journey here, or be joined in the city for specific training. You’ll be closer to the training grounds as well,” she missed the training grounds and she was acutely aware that she would be missing fighting in the grounds for the majority of the arc.

Unwittingly the bowl was pushed in their direction and the scent of beef was pungent, “if you’ll excuse me, I’ll leave to discuss your agreements,” Elyna bent to press a kiss to Malcolm’s cheek, before making an expedient bare footed exit out of the cottage.

[Malcolm]

Malcolm's eyes followed Elyna as she made her swift retreat before they were fixed on Rafael once more. The boy had contradicted himself and Malcolm wondered if it was fear of the unknown, or just fear in general that helped sway the young noble's decision. Either way, he was probably better off with Elyna, a fellow noble and a woman who had not long since shed the title of airman and would remember best what it was like to train a squire.
After finishing his tea, Malcolm got up and took the dishes to rinse them before setting them aside on the countertop to dry and reached for his belt, decorated with a number of throwing blades.
"You know the basics with a sword, that will help earn you a knighthood," the man admitted, "and Elyna is very good with a bow, you'll need a good ranged weapon if you want to meet the right requirements for becoming a member of The Iron Hand so that you can train up your own squires one day. I suggest you invest sooner rather than later and work on that for the next few seasons, I plan to be home before Cylus but the journey is unpredictable, anything can happen when you spend one hundred and twenty-six trials at sea."
Rafael was right though, he didn't know the boy, nor did the young noble know what to expect from him. "Why don't you join me outside and put that sword to good use?" He would go easy on the lad, he had to, after all he was still recovering from his last fight and the ugly scar the length of his forearm, still healing across his left side and belly. "You can show me what Ned taught you," Malcolm smiled and stepped outside with sword in hand.
On the way out the door, the knight picked up his shield and tightened the straps over his left arm, testing the weight of the shield as he moved towards a flat piece of ground, clear of trees or anything else that might get in their way. Of course the odds wouldn't always be so favourable, nor the terrain this kind, but Malcolm was keen to see what the boy was capable of without any distractions.