#int. w/aytac

[witchertorsten]

The gravity of the man's crimes could not be mitigated, but if the mountains yielded better ground for hunting and gathering, then there were odds the troupe could be sustained - but he had put them all in peril with their actions. The severity yielded a harsh reaction and Iskarans were not known for their softness. Stubborn mountain-dwellers who settled their disputes with violence, this was the way. A thief without his hands could not steal much, but a warrior who still held one would continue to pose a threat. Torsten gave the Princess a reverent nod, tipping his head in a short bow as he accepted the shieldmaiden's command. "It will be done."

The kingdom had fallen, its people sent into hiding, and with it, the laws that had once held its foundation. They could no longer rely upon the trials and punishments that had been born long before her, not when time and energy were not upon their sides. A witcher may have found amusement in a battle, to keep their wits about them; but Aytaç did not wish to exhaust such avenues. Not when they did not have to, and not when she was uncertain it would have the desired outcome. The trials had already been in place for many years, and yet, thievery had found its way into the keep. If those guilty of the crime had wished to test themselves, then something more needed to be done.

"If this thief knows how to wield a sword, I want his non favored hand to be cut from him. We will still need all the defense we can muster, even if he chooses to hate us," surely he already did, given how easily he had chosen to steal from his countrymen. "If he does not know how to fight, take his favored hand. Let all know that they will be spared for such a crime, but it will cost them dearly." If death were not already a great deterrent for such crimes, perhaps the loss of limb and a hobbled life would be. If not, then she would gladly give them back their choice of trial.

[alucardrakul]

@princessxaytac location: Nornwatch Keep notes: prior to the Last Night, sometime during the second week when people were getting real sick and shit.

Red eyes peered down the scope at the small science of the tissue he'd collected from the recently slain ghoul. Dead cells holding the blight were still alive in their own way; this wasn't new information, not for the legionnaire. Iskrates was grotesque in his way but the product of his research couldn't be denied; that was the purpose of this order, unbeholden to the laws of a nation, the legion would do that which was necessary to combat the true enemy. The dark did not care for morality.

"This wing is off limits." Alucard remarked as he heard the door creak open, his gaze shifted from the scope to the intruder as he took in the princess that stood in the doorway. He'd been raised under a Queen of night and terror, beauty was always deceiving. "Even to royalty." He added, that though he made no motion to bid her to leave, the dhampir could indulge some curiosity as long as it didn't dampen what they were working towards. "Fortunately the old man isn't here to complain your ear off." Loose skin that hung to the floor with a look of death about him, Iskrates's face alone was enough to make people avoid this place.

[alucardrakul]

"The Legion does whatever is necessary to win the fight against the true evil, long ago the Kings and Queens of the nations we know today all agreed on that." Legionnaires had immunity to do and act as they wished, invoke conscription in times of crisis against the darkspawn... "Old laws now," Alucard admitted the world didn't care about a fight that had been over for thousands of years. Darkspawn were a problem of the distant past, occasionally they cropped up in minuscule numbers, crawling from mountain holes, but beyond the disease, they could spread, darkspawn weren't considered particularly fearsome. "Distasteful as magic might seem to an Iskaran, I can assure you there is only one enemy worth fighting." The Dark One only wanted one thing for this world, and that was for the light to be extinguished from it forever. "Iskrates was exiled from Avalon for experimenting on his fellow elvhen, Unsightly as his work might be to some, here it's necessary to help us understand the blight - maybe even cure it."

Aytaç had learned long ago to be patient, in a sense. To hold herself within check, to listen to what was offered to her. Instead of demanding, instead of pressing the conversation towards what she wanted to hear. In that moment, she waited, she listened. She allowed this other to provide her with what he wanted to, as her mind took note of the words. As she prepared herself with the questions that would no doubt come.

The Legion of the Dead, the Dark One; this would not be the first time that she had heard these names. Often they had been spoken upon her father's tongue, from the other Jarls that had attended his council meetings. "Admittedly, very little," she confessed, as she watched him more closely. Pieces had begun to fit into the missing slots, information filled in the longer she stood within that room. "I know of its foundations, the birth of Iskaldrik," she noted, as her gaze shifted about the room, only to quickly return to him. "Not many speak favorably upon the Legion, of the magic at its center," though, she supposed not much in the way of magic was spoken favorably throughout her kingdom.

[witchertorsten]

Their lives had been placed in jeopardy because of the actions of one and his associates. The man's family would be the easiest to suspect as co-conspirators, his friends, but attacking or imprisoning indiscriminately would not bode well with the populace. An example would send a strong message, they had trials for a reason, that perhaps the Gods might choose to favor someone by seeing them safely through the combat, the ordeal, or the rite of purification. These were not the only examples that could be made, particularly because Aytaç did not want them killed and death was often the outcome from any of the three. "What does the princess suggest?"

A month and a half. It was a daunting number, for they could not even hope to make it to Lysara in such a timeframe. Not with the terrain they had to traverse. And certainly not with the sick, injured and old that they had within their company. It left them, or rather her, with a rather difficult decision to make. It was not that Aytaç did not like this responsibility; for she would have upheld the very same laws that her father had. Every bit him, and yet... "If there are others, then he needs to be made an example of. Killing him would be too kind, and would settle a sour taste upon the tongues of the other refugees. A punishment needs to be inflicted, one that will make sure no others see it fit to steal from their fellow man."

A punishment that remind and ensure those that traveled within their company that the law and order of High King Orhan still lived on. That if they wished for the protection of the king and his soldiers, then order would need to remain within the refugees. Allowing a singular man, or two, to steal from the minimal amount of food that they did have would surely only open them up to more theft. To the possibility of having nothing more for those that still believed in the royal family. "If such a punishment does not strike fear into his companions, then we will root them out. And if they test my patience for too long, let theirs be more severe."

[alucardrakul]

So collected. The candor was familiar to him and idly he wondered if her people appreciated having someone like this to look up to. Alucard was no leader, he didn't have the social graces for it and at all times was composed with certainty that nobody particularly liked him. Not like Riandur. Alucard tried to think what his fellow legionnaire might say in this moment to come across as warm and appealing, but instead the dhampir's face remained placid with a pair of red eyes looking out, unblinking.

"The Legion of the Dead has been fighting the Dark One for thousands of years, we don't waste a chance to understand our enemies' plans." In his dreams, Alucard glimpsed the weight of the horde, and felt the breath of the Dark One hot upon his face. Both a warning and a threat, but through this pattern he caught glimpses of other machinations. The Iskaran royal family was in greater danger than they realized, hunted by Aetherians and the dark itself. "How much do you know about the Legion?" Admittedly Alucard didn't know what the Iskarans were told about their order, if anything at all.

Each new word spoken from the other sliced like a knife through the remaining hope that still lingered within her. That bit of hope that her people would be seen safely through the keep, into new land and finally to a semblance of safety. She, nor they, could afford any more obstacles placed within their paths. Food had already become scarce, refugees on edge with the gnawing hunger that settled into their bellies; and it seemed the witchers were not keen to see their home as the shelter it had become any longer. She needed answers, she needed guidance, but furthermore, she wanted to understand.

"An opportunity?" She questioned with a mild tone, to neither give too much or too little away. Ever the diplomat, the daughter that her father had clearly raised. Which was precisely why she had stepped further into the room, further into the arms of uncertainty and knowledge that awaited her. Though her mind traced the words back, to the mention of the darkspawn and the mines that they dug through. The statement would be tucked away, held tightly for when she had a better moment to ponder on such things further. Or with Ormir. Perhaps her brother.

[witchertorsten]

Torsten could understand the princess's reservation, witchers were historically the law and order but it was possible the heavy hand of the Iskaran law would not work here. He'd made an example of conspirators who'd attempted to send details of their location to Aetheron, but that was different. Ormir had expressed his own ambitions over methods of punishment, he preferred discretion, but Torsten would not be a blade in the dark. Afshin was Afshin, but Torsten had always respected Orhan - almost as much as the First. Aytaç was most similar to him in methodology and candor.

"It's difficult to discern what might be spoiled from exposure to the blight, but preserves aside at least four bags of grain are spoiled, we salvaged at least six, enough for a month and a half." If they left tomorrow, they still had almost twice that until Lysara, navigating Hrimthur's Wastelands would take a considerable amount of time. "When questioned, he would not talk, but he stole far more than a single person could carry or need." Torsten could speculate on the man's motives - monopoly or asylum, if he did not work alone then the witcher would safely assume that they were attempting to stockpile some resources in order to flee Nornwatch and abandon the nation.

A break-in. The simple words brought a small ounce of shock to the princess, namely because she was surprised any would have the gall for such a feat. Nornwatch Tower held many witchers, along with several of the kingsguard. Either the thief, or thieves, were very daring. Or extremely foolish to attempt such a feat. Though, as the words continued to spill from Torsten's tongue, Aytaç found herself uncertain of which one. Wanted to know how you would have us proceed. Another moment of mild shock, for surely they would have gone to Ormir. Perhaps even her brother for such a crime.

Her lips rolled together as her father's voice ricocheted against the corners of her mind, stating precisely what he had done to thieves in the past. And a part of her would have agreed with her father, would have sentenced the individual, or individuals, to the witchers' punishment. To allow them to choose what suited them best. But these were no longer the same times, no longer did the rule of High King Orhan rest so heavily upon the people of Iskaldrik. "What were you able to salvage from the thief? How long will it last among the refugees?"

[alucardrakul]

The Iskarans had their reputation, the princess and her people weren't well-liked, nor were they respected beyond the necessity of the wealth that their mines produced. Alucard knew what it meant to emulate a man who didn't deserve the reverence that was laid at his feet, almost a century later the dhampir still was not sure where the deadland practices ended and he began. A part of him would always be damned and for the dark, the Iskarans had lost their home - lords and ladies of nothing but their own ego. Maybe it was too late for them, but they could still be in service to the only war that mattered.

"Too many see the Blight as a problem to be neglected." Alucard removed the slide and replaced it with another sample taken from one of the rodents found infected and scurrying about. "But it's alive and well." He thought about the Ankhurian he'd found poking at it, "Men and women across Taravell test their mettle against it and still come up wanting; darkspawn crawl out from hills and drill through abandoned mines." As if the princess didn't have enough problems already, "As unfortunate as your people's status is, it also presents an opportunity that Nornwatch hasn't had in centuries."

Off limits. Adorable words that would not pertain to Aytaç, no matter how the other made note to include royalty within his statement. Perhaps the words held some semblance of truth. Perhaps they did not. Either way, she had always been as stubborn as her father. As stubborn as stone. One could have dared to forbid her from an area, and she would challenged them to see her out of it. As it were, this stranger made further note to express that Iskrates, the apparent one that barred her entrance, was not currently within the room. How fortunate for her.

Unlike most, Aytaç had been privy to the stories and rumors that circulated the creature that seemingly cheated death. Her father had spoken of the elvhen in many different fashions, but each story and rumor had always boiled down to the science that settled within his mind. At the ends of his fingertips. And as disturbing as some of the stories had been, the princess knew that her choices had dwindled just as the food had. And just as hopes of ever leaving the keep had.

"Is it the Blight that you are studying?" More stories and rumors of the sickness, of the illness that would infect all who came near. And near it had come, as it crept from the shadows upon her people. Upon those that she had sworn to protect. But she could not fight that which she did not fully know, nor understand.