double dungeons & dragon's curse.
The colorful posters plastered across the grounds had all read the same thing: READY FOR AN EXCITING AFTERNOON OF ACTION AND ADVENTURE? DRESS ON UP AND COME TO THE TRAINING GROUNDS FOR A FANTASTICAL EXPERIENCE! BRING YOUR OWN SWORD(S).
There were dozens of them, stuck to every bare wall and column, the bright colors popping against the plain limestone, meant to draw the eyes of passerby. No signature could be found on the flyers, just a time and date. Caeda assumed it to be an advertisement for an afternoon of training, but could not imagine what ‘ action and adventure ’ would entail, nor what would make the training session a ‘ fantastical experience. ’ Perhaps they’d be meeting at the training hall before leaving to spar with a change of scenery? Or maybe it would be a lesson in foreign sword techniques? Whatever the case may be, Caeda donned her usual training gear, dulled iron sword hanging at her waist, and headed off in the direction of the training grounds. It certainly sounded like an invigorating experience — something fun and lively to break up the monotony of the usual training.
On a typical day, Garreg Mach’s training grounds are loud, cacophony of shouts, grunts, and the sharp clanging of metal ringing out and echoing upon the walls. But all is still and silent as Caeda steps into the dusty arena, the only noise being the creaking of the great dark oak doors and scattered chatter throughout the space. A young lady leaning against a nearby column stirs as Caeda enters, dull eyes quickly brightening with excitement. She is dressed in something Caeda can only describe as a costume: sheer silks and jangling jewelry, smooth golden coins dangling from her hair and waist. Caeda is reminded of the dancers of home; they, too, wielded swords — both decoratively and for combat. Caeda wonders if this is what the posters had meant by fantastical, and whether if it is too late to pivot ‘round and leave … not that she would not want to learn! But the skill would be wasted on her, she feels, with her battles usually fought atop pegasus’s wings.
“Oh, hello!” the student in dancer’s attire calls, golden ornaments tinkling like a windchime as she hurries up to Caeda. “The training hall’s closed for the afternoon, ‘less you’re here for the event.”
“The event?” Caeda parrots, confusion evident in her furrowed brows. “Please, excuse my lack of knowledge on the matter, but what sort of event is taking place here today?”
The student’s eyebrows shoot into her bangs. “You don’t know? Double Dungeons and Dragon’s Curse, of course! Oh, I should probably introduce myself first.” she sticks out her hand. “I’m Gisela — but during the campaign, you’ll call me Alfyn, alrighty? Speaking of which, you’re waaay underdressed for today’s campaign.” Gisela — no, Alfyn — well, perhaps still Gisela? — jabs a thumb over her shoulder at a trunk sitting by a weapons’ rack. “You can find a change of clothes in there. Hmm, you’ve got a slight build … I see a sword at your hip … oh! I know what you’ll be. What’s your name? I don’t think I ever caught it.”
Caeda had barely opened her mouth to answer when Gisela cuts across her. “You can be Karasi! The dark and mysterious swordswoman.”
It looks as though Caeda does not have much of a choice in the matter as Gisela seizes her by the shoulders and steers the Talysian over to the costumes. Caeda feels as though she should be a mite offended, perhaps even a bit angry, but all she merely flabbergasted at how forward and enthusiastic the student is. It seems as though this is some sort of preparation for a production, something to be performed on stage. It is not exactly what Caeda had in mind but, well … it will not hurt to try something new. And it doesn’t seem as though she could leave even if she wanted to.
The doors creak open as Gisela rummages through the costume trunk, and the two of them turn towards the newcomer. The rushing excitement returns to Gisela’s eyes as she cranes her neck to see who has entered to be a player in this ‘ Double Dungeons & Dragon’s Curse. ’ Caeda spies a head of vermillion and an elegant gait, gleaming blade sheathed at her hip. Caeda knew of the woman — how could she not? — and offers Valentia’s queen, Celica, a smile. An unfamiliar face, but a friendly one nonetheless — Caeda cannot express how glad she is to have Celica here. At the very least, they would endure this strange predicament together.
@seraphiia