I'm on the wrong side of heaven; eight and straia

[Warship]

i'm on the wrong side of heaven, and the righteous side of hell

He had known this day would come. He had known that Eight would come calling, ready to use Warship for the debt he undoubtedly owed him. Magicians didn’t grant immortality without something in it for them. Eventually, they would cash in their favor, for there was always a favor needing done. The black warrior had been dozing beneath the rock facings when the voice filled his ears his mind. No doubt Erebor and Straia were also asleep somewhere as well. Children could be exhausting, even ones like Erebor who needed nothing but the most basic care. Warship snarled, pinning his ears. Of all the times to come cashing in a favor, the damned magician came at night. Despite his snarling face and over all pissed off demeanor, he went towards the voice. Or where he supposed the voice was coming for. Damn magicians and their party tricks. He heads towards the Valley, wondering briefly if he should have waited for Straia, though he was certain she wasn’t far behind him. And if he knew her at all, her mood was probably similar to his. So he kept going, his ears flicking atop his head as the nighttime animals of the forest protested his late night travel. Finally, he crosses the border, shuddering as he passes through the magic, taking note at how is brand glowed much brighter here in the Valley, for it was closer to its creator. He didn’t head into the heart of the kingdom, at least not yet. He knew Eight would know he had arrived. “You called?” he said into the air.

warship

[Straia]

It’s a good thing she’s not overly fond of sleeping. Clearly magicians didn’t need sleep, unlike their normal horse counterparts. Straia needed it, though she only needed so much. So she’s not exhausted when he summons them in the middle of the damn night. She’s still annoyed though. He got to do that to Warship, but Straia didn’t sell her soul. Her father, yes, and one favor. But favors don’t need to happen in the middle of the night either.

This better be his favor. Or else is better be good.

She trudges her way to the Valley. The path is familiar to the mare – she makes it often, after all. Trips to the Valley were at least often productive. If history was any indicator, this trip would probably be interesting as well. Still, she can’t let Eight think she’s pleased by the interruption. Think they rule the fucking world. She’s going to keep pretending they don’t, lest their egos get too big.

She finds the Valley quickly and easily enough. And Warships as well. She slides up next to him with a slight nod and an audible sigh, though she doesn’t bother to say anything. She’ll wait for Eight. Seriously, it better be good.

straia

queen of the chamber

[Eight]

no matter what they say, I am still the king

Magicians never do anything for free, do they? It’s always a constant tally – pink slips in the glove box, spare change in the cup. It’s a shame, really, that you couldn’t find a more selfless one. A magician who would look at your stilled heart and think, why yes, Warship is a good man, he deserves this. Instead you got the one who gave to you without you asking, and who you are now indebted to. A mercenary of a magician – you’d think you might be proud of that, even.
Sleep is fitful for Eight – unnecessary, even. A commodity, a treat, something to pass the time when boredom strikes. Of course, he doesn’t think about this when he comes a’callin. He’s never really that respectful, anyway. His life is just a never ending constant – there are no breaks, no passing of time, it simply is. So when the thought strikes, and he calls, he pays little mind to the fact that it is the depth of night, and that others (such as you two) may be sleeping.
However, even still – you come. You, Warship, out of duty and debt. And you, Straia, well maybe just out of duty as well.
When you enter the Valley, the image of you two side by side floats into his mind, and he quickly finds you. “ I did. My apologies for the late night calls.” Again, he makes sure that his magic has shielded the trio. Even the paths that your feet have made from the Chamber to the Valley were wiped away. There was no proof that you two had ever even been here.
“Warship, I called you here because you owe me a debt, as you know. Straia, I called you simply out of respect.” Which it was, really. He wasn’t ready to cash in that chip just yet, but as alliances, he was willing to include her in on his plans. “I plan to attack the Amazons. They have stolen my son from his home, and quite frankly Scorch is playing with fire amongst all of her alliance plans.” The Jungle queen had been so leery to answer Eight’s questions of an alliance, and had so quickly broken the truce with the Tundra (whether it had been by her biding or Lagertha’s mutiny). She was growing too big for her britches, biting off more than she could chew, and burning bridges in her midst.
He turns to his mercenary, “Warship, I will be sending you in first, disguised as a female.” He shrugged a bit, as an apology. Unfortunately, the only way to infiltrate would be as a female, the Amazons weren’t keen on trusting strange men. “You will speak to the sisters, gain trust, scout for their battle tactics, and keep an eye on the going ons of Scorch.”
He then turns to Straia. “I’ve called you here simply to keep you informed. You are more than welcome to join me. I just didn’t want you caught unaware if the Jungle decided to retaliate by attacking you. But, if you have any suggestions, I’m all ears.”


(SO. If you aren’t okay with Warship infiltrating first and playing a lady, then that’s okay too (: We can just skip that part!)

∞

and now the storm is coming, the storm is coming in

[Eight]

Bumpin' up to continue 'dis (:

[Straia]

Perhaps she comes somewhat out of duty, though she could have come in the morning out of duty as well. Always slightly late to the party – after all, she is the party. The best guests show up last. No, she comes mostly out of curiosity, because the promises that a late night call hold are far more entertaining the idea of sleep. Unlike Eight, Straia needs sleep. Her days are fractured by nights and bodily necessities. She cannot subsist off the magic in her veins, because there is none. She survives by nothing but her own determination and will. And a hair of luck.

She listens to Eight with interest, tossing Warship a small smirk at the idea of him as a lady. “You can send him back as a lady, right? Just for a bit?” She is possibly the least Queenly Queen, sometimes. She pokes fun, glares and makes her disdain well known. She doesn’t play with pretty words typically, doesn’t pretend to be anything she is not. Well, not when it doesn’t suit her purposes. In front of the other members of the Chambers, she sees no need to be anything other than herself.

Somehow, they still seem to respect her. But then again, she works her ass off. That’s about all it takes, right?

“Tell me, what of the other sisters? Will we be fighting them all?” She imagines that Eight already knows the answer to this. He is capable of knowing everything, so she doesn’t think she needs to go farther than the magician here. Though if he truly doesn’t know the answer, she may be able to find out. She isn’t saying no. In truth, it’s time for something to happen in Beqanna. The evil kingdoms have been quiet far too long.

But she’s practical still. She’d like to know what they are facing. The Valley is strong, certainly, but so are the sisters. Her cousin alone in formidable, and the Amazonians may or may not have a magicians of their own. Depends on if the chick shows up. “The Chamber may be interested. Though I have few to offer you, and I suspect a lot of protests from Kavi.” She shrugs a shoulder. He’d have to get over it. Scorch wasn’t his family, after all.

straia

queen of the chamber

ha, i was supposed to respond to this....