Pen, 18, freelance illustrator and craftswoman. This is a dedicated art blog for myself. Main blog is @lukasbestgirl, I'm on Twitter @PenRosa03 and DeviantArt as PenRosa. Link to commission prices and info is pinned on Twitter, but my asks are open if you have questions
Recently had the Fates brainworms reawakened, so begins my redesigning of the royals and their retinue. I don't knoww if I'll get the the Hoshidans, but I have my eyes set on finishing the Nohrian sibs. Camilla and co are up next !
Selena's impressions of Nohr and its cavalry under the cut ~
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Arriving in a new country is always weird. You'd think with years across worlds and realms I'd stop being surprised, but there's always something new that gets me.
Getting here was shitty, that's for sure. Our hands and legs were bloody from the climb out of the canyon, though Owa-hm. Odin. Had somehow kept Mikoto spotless carried on his back, didn't have time to see if she was any damn grateful for it though. About a days trek northward, and the lack of settlements was strange. This war we were told about was recent, recent enough there should at least be remnants of fighting along the border if there'd been people, but there was nothing. Just craggy land, some sparse trees and dry vegetation.
The town we did reach answered little, some wooly pigs but no signs of larger livestock, not like there'd be much viable land to raise them on. There were a few jacks, with one's meat being smoked in the center, broken leg they'd said. Az managed to grab us some local clothing and a large cloak for us to share.
Going westward as we were told only made Nohr seem more bleak. There was little farmable land, Nagas tits it was cold, and the woods, full of smaller game and wild boar, were vast and easy to get lost in (His Most Darkest Majesty or whatever rambled something about dark spirits, who knows). With the weather unpredictable as it was we managed to get a mule, in case we wouldn't be able to hunt during a storm. Bred from city stock, the seller'd said, which was surprising. So far we'd heard it only gets harsher towards the capital, no space for horses.
Passed by manors and minor lord's retinues, the people seem well trained, it's becoming clear what Mikoto meant when she spoke about Nohrians being a fearsome people. Living in these conditions makes them hardy, and the commons seem like one of those uncaring for social niceties.
There's a tournement being held in the capital, a merc on the road told us. I didn't get his name. Heading the same way he is; held by the royal family and a way to win a hiring near the castle. Lent us a spot in his wagon for the rest of the way, which is nice I suppose. Even got us a portion of smoked boar.
Az-Laslow, kept the conversation up for the ride. The mercs horse is Hlenni, got the right to keep her after he earned his parents land back in the south. Wealthy family from the sound of it. Been training her for battle, wants to serve the crown on the frontlines, take hoshidan land for his servants.
Cavalry's a lords 'right', apparently. Stories of fearless charges, many a tale of man and horse being as one like brothers. Odins giving him advice now, as if he's going to last 15 minutes in a real fight, but it's not my job to stop him.
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I'm not sure what I was expecting once the treeline broke after another few days, but it certaintly wasn't this. The forest just ended, made more obvious with a line of burnt trees and ash and grey ground. For a minute I thought we'd been tricked and he'd taken us to some sort of prison, though Lazlow held me back before I could react. Standing on the side of the cart all we could see for leagues was dead ground, ash filled the air and in the distance dragonets circled an armored fortress, giant iron spikes protruding from what looked like a fucking cratered volcano. Odin was stunned for words for a moment, I think he felt out darkness-ed, the idiot.
My hand was on my hilt the entire way across the expanse, paths we could see leading to the 'city'. Other wagons pulled by horses meandering their way in and out which, seriously, where are they keeping these things?
I muttered as much to Laslow, and the bastard just winked at me, like he'd heard something he hadn't told us from our last stop. The security at the gate was impressive, the guards and city clearly expected attacks. Took about an hour to get through, winding in a tunnel built into the wall, a slow slope felt, definitively downwards but gentle enough for the animals comfort.
After the third inner gate, I was stuck in awe, as I always seem to be, at this new city. Laz ended up pulling on my arm to get moving. Laughing at me, probably. Asshole.
Didn't hear him though. Standing in front of us, nestled in this fucking volcano, was Krakenburg. An obsidian palace loomed in the center, held by pillars and connected to the upper layers with massive bridges. Below it we could see what seemed a district of rich and intricately designed mansions, connected to barracks and fortifications, and then...
Ah. There. A carved layer of miles of fertile land filled with grazing cattle and horses. I couldn't make out far enough, but it seemed expanded on the natural tiered interior structure of the volcano. I could also make out what appeared to be the bulk of the city stepped underneath, presumabely hiding the slums and and prisons even lower. Didn't have time to look further, we'd arrived where we'd be staying. The others laughter filled the background, and kept me warm against the harsh chill of the capitol.
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Princess Camilla. Eldest daughter, Wyvern Sister, Scourge of the Western Plains, and fucking 8 foot tall smokestack. That's who I landed in service to. Not sure if I should be jealous of the others royals, Lord Xander seems like a stubborn pain to deal with, and Lord Leo distrusts any air breathed near him. But we're here now, one step closer to finding Corrin. Camilla at least is quick to gush about her family, so we know she's being held in a fortress to the north.
I've been sent to have Beruka, my new coworker, show me the ins and outs of the barracks and stables. I'm honestly having trouble figuring out how they created this place. Especially how they keep these animals healthy. Even with the pastures they must've adapted to live well without sunlight.
Most of the horses seem to be small, fleet footed things. Heavier than I thought they'd be, hurt like a bitch if they charged you. Most, I say, because I'm introduced to the Lady's riding horse, Ótr, who, matching the towering royals, must be 20 hands at the whithers. Ótr's breath felt like a stove in front of my face, and a brush was placed in my hand. I remember briefly hearing the crown prince was a renowned cavalier.
titsay