She was tired, hungry, sweaty and tense...
Who: Az, her guards, Cain, Morgan...(open once they arrive at her room)
Where: To Az's room
When: February 1st, 11:30 am
What: Az's return to the Palace/Morgan plays a dirty trick
It had been quite a long and arduous journey from the tribe in Ix's camp to the Palace entranceway, or at least to a less obvious side entrance. It was not necessary to draw more attention to the fact that she had been gone for a full week, more than was necessary. Every member in the swiftly moving party was running low energy wise, having pushed a bit more than was strictly wise, in order to get her back into relative safety as soon as possible. All had been relieved to not only make it to the O.Z. with little problem, as tensions in Ix were rising due to a growing conflict with Ev, but to make it through the O.Z. without anything more troubling than a single guard's horse throwing a shoe.
The Princess herself had been at complete unease the entire trip, eyes never stopping to focus on a single thing for longer than a minute, restlessly scanning the horizon at all times. Fear ate away at her, even as her favored guards, her friends really, were close at her side. Always around her, within arms reach, weapons at the ready. She had not known that either Johnson or Sergei would be appearing to escort her back, and had been greatly relieved when they had been among the number she, Ava and Marion had met with. Quick to embrace each man, she had felt a measure safer with two more she knew without a doubt she could trust to be with her.
The gunmetal black lines of the compound bow slung at her hip certainly made her a minute bit more secure as well. Although, she still worried about freezing up when faced with actual danger, the fact that she had felt almost instantly comfortable with the unusual (by Ozian standard) weapon had helped a good deal.
Still in the gear and wear of an Ix woman, she did not feel quite as useless as she had expected to. Johnson had raised an eyebrow over how little the traditional outfit covered, and Sergei had grinned at her when she rolled her eyes in response. Despite the near constant sun exposure over the last week, inexplicably she had not gained a bit of color, and the built for freedom of movement wear exposed a good deal of pale skin. An extreme contrast to the gleaming ink tone of Noctis's coat.
Rather than take her own horse to the Stables when she, the entourage of guards and muscle bound war horses arrived, she and her personal guards swung down and waited. Someone was supposed to meet them, apparently, she was told.
Pulling at her braid to loosen her long hair from its binding, she finger combed it into loose waves, waiting as patiently as she could manage. The men and women around her stayed relatively quiet, and while they had moved into the entranceway of the Palace on this side, she did not like standing around. Even if they had arrived a full hour ahead of schedule, none had expected to be able to cover the distance as quickly as they had, without endangering their horses or security. All she really cared about was the fact that she wanted a full meal, a soft bed, a hot shower and Jeb. Not necessarily in that order.
With her hair a dark fall down her back, deep brown tightly wrapped bodice and short skirt, leather boots, wrist bracers and bow and arrows still carried with her, she looked in that moment far more like a primal warrior than a pampered princess. In reality she was both, and neither.
Where: To Az's room
When: February 1st, 11:30 am
What: Az's return to the Palace/Morgan plays a dirty trick
It had been quite a long and arduous journey from the tribe in Ix's camp to the Palace entranceway, or at least to a less obvious side entrance. It was not necessary to draw more attention to the fact that she had been gone for a full week, more than was necessary. Every member in the swiftly moving party was running low energy wise, having pushed a bit more than was strictly wise, in order to get her back into relative safety as soon as possible. All had been relieved to not only make it to the O.Z. with little problem, as tensions in Ix were rising due to a growing conflict with Ev, but to make it through the O.Z. without anything more troubling than a single guard's horse throwing a shoe.
The Princess herself had been at complete unease the entire trip, eyes never stopping to focus on a single thing for longer than a minute, restlessly scanning the horizon at all times. Fear ate away at her, even as her favored guards, her friends really, were close at her side. Always around her, within arms reach, weapons at the ready. She had not known that either Johnson or Sergei would be appearing to escort her back, and had been greatly relieved when they had been among the number she, Ava and Marion had met with. Quick to embrace each man, she had felt a measure safer with two more she knew without a doubt she could trust to be with her.
The gunmetal black lines of the compound bow slung at her hip certainly made her a minute bit more secure as well. Although, she still worried about freezing up when faced with actual danger, the fact that she had felt almost instantly comfortable with the unusual (by Ozian standard) weapon had helped a good deal.
Still in the gear and wear of an Ix woman, she did not feel quite as useless as she had expected to. Johnson had raised an eyebrow over how little the traditional outfit covered, and Sergei had grinned at her when she rolled her eyes in response. Despite the near constant sun exposure over the last week, inexplicably she had not gained a bit of color, and the built for freedom of movement wear exposed a good deal of pale skin. An extreme contrast to the gleaming ink tone of Noctis's coat.
Rather than take her own horse to the Stables when she, the entourage of guards and muscle bound war horses arrived, she and her personal guards swung down and waited. Someone was supposed to meet them, apparently, she was told.
Pulling at her braid to loosen her long hair from its binding, she finger combed it into loose waves, waiting as patiently as she could manage. The men and women around her stayed relatively quiet, and while they had moved into the entranceway of the Palace on this side, she did not like standing around. Even if they had arrived a full hour ahead of schedule, none had expected to be able to cover the distance as quickly as they had, without endangering their horses or security. All she really cared about was the fact that she wanted a full meal, a soft bed, a hot shower and Jeb. Not necessarily in that order.
With her hair a dark fall down her back, deep brown tightly wrapped bodice and short skirt, leather boots, wrist bracers and bow and arrows still carried with her, she looked in that moment far more like a primal warrior than a pampered princess. In reality she was both, and neither.