[X] A Mission (Miraz, Thal, Drinian, Gavin, any others) [Finished]

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[Character of the Month]

Character of the Month
Prince Caspian

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Played by Cara

"Cara has managed to...create a character that is both mythical and life-like. Impulsive, moody, and yet kind and good-hearted, Caspian is just beginning to show the makings of a true leader."
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[King Miraz]

Miraz sat in the oversized wooden chair in his tent, scowling at the man before him.

"As I said, my sovereign lord, we have had no intelligence since the storm--" the scout was saying. Miraz considered: had he been a dog--and he was not so very far from it--this man would have had his tail between his legs.

The king's lips grew into a thin-lipped sneer. "You *have* no intelligence, then, lieutenant?" he asked. The man opened his mouth, trying to consider how to answer the two very different questions implied in those words. "Well?" the King pressed.

"Yes, of course! I  mean . . .well . . . no. We do not know--"

"--Enough," Miraz cut in. "If you do not have what it requires, I will find someone who does. You are stripped of your rank, lieutenant. Send in Deverell to me," he said, referring to the scout who had just returned from the far woods.

The man, dumbstruck, blinked, then swallowed miserably.

"I trust," Miraz said, his voice deathly quiet, "you do not need advanced intelligence to find him?"

"N-no, sir. He is just in the regiment yon--"

"Then go now!" he barked, sinking back into his chair when the man had left, understanding now why he and not some other man, some insipid fool, was king of Telmar.

[Adelliana Tisroc]

Hands dipping into a basin of water, Adelliana Tisroc's hands quickly trailed upward, splashing her very dirty face with the crystal clear liquid. She had to do something to rid her face of all the impurities, for even though they were in a camp, cleanliness was still valued by all. It was another misconception the young Tarkheena had about the opposite gender. They did not, in fact, appreciate the particular odor of manhood. Well, that was an absolute relief for the young woman, who had rather loathed the idea of walking around in the stink of men, as she was pretending to be one of them. Tash be praised!

Satisfied that her visage was no longer muddied up, Adelliana returned to her own tent to prep for the day. Sure, she had already taken the necessary precautions to ensure that her womanhood was concealed, but there were other things left. Trimming her usually long hair, dusting a light layer of powder over the areas where men were prone to grow facial hair, and suiting up into the day's apparel were all that was left. Adelliana, known in masculine form as Dharr, put the finishing touches on her appearance before observing the final result. She had to admit, she looked an awful lot like her brother. A flood of homesickness washed over her, though her resolve was firm. Adelliana...no. Dharr, was steeled for her new life. A new name, a new persona. She would never return to her homeland of Calormen unless forced to by some unfortunate circumstances.

Dharr's thoughts were interrupted when a man came yelling into the camp, dragging volunteers left and right for Miraz's next mission. Miraz. The very name wrought a sort of inexplicable change over Dharr's countenance. She was once in the belief that The King of Telmarines had a legitimate reason for his war, and yet after the words of one Lord Drinian and being stuck in the camp but for a few days, she had come to loathe the idea of working for him. She could not run away and defect to either Narnian or Archenlander forces, due to the guards posted around the camp. And the Tarkheena could not reveal herself, for fear of being misused by the men in camp. She heard their words... they were not comforting to say the least.

 It was by sheer misfortune that she happened to be on the man's path, for he gave her the "up-down" look, sneered, and dragged Dharr right along with him. She was shocked to say the least, but retalliated by pulling her arm from the man's grip and walking beside him in sullen silence. People were not meant to be pulled around after all... but this was a war. And not the court back home. Common courtesy was not to be expected.

Finally, the small group of people reached the exterior of Miraz's tent. Dharr recognized some of the group, though only because they were at the forefront of the Telmar forces. Hmm... it made her wonder what "volunteers" were needed for. She could only stand around and wait however. Placing a hand on one hip and leaning to the side, Dharr quickly adjusted her position to match those of the men around her- feet astride and arms crossed.

There now. Much more masculine. And war-like. Yet Addy was still out of place, for a Calormene woman's place was not on the warfront.

[Thal Deverell]

Thal was getting antsy.

His last scouting mission was completed, and that left him with nothing to do. If there was anything worse in the world, Thal had yet to encounter it. Sitting around a camp full of bored soldiers doing nothing was enough to drive anyone -- especially this odd half-Calormene -- insane. Should he have had to endure this without any others around him, he would have fared much, much better. Then again, should he have been left to himself, he would have gone somewhere. Alone, yes, but he would have found somewhere to go, to see, to explore.

But not this endless sitting, completely surrounded by pathetic, loud men. Thal detested it.

He had escaped, as well as he could, to the end of the camp, near the woods. At least here one could breath with a little more peace. But his chance at solace was quickly broken as Thal heard a messenger running towards him, calling out his name. Thal turned, wishing to sigh in disgust. This was all too likely going to be some petty matter of no importance, which he would not even need to attend to. Yet he was slightly relived by the possibility of something more to do than this dreaded nothing.

The messenger wasted no time in spilling out his message; Go to King Miraz. Now. The tone of his voice, let Thal know it wasn't silly childishness after all. What a joy! Something of significance to keep him occupied was hopefully about to open itself wide to Thal, and, though he rarely smiled, that was almost enough to make him wish he would smile just a bit more... Or maybe just this once. He did not, of course. It was simply a call of duty, and he, as a soldier, would obey that call.

He walked calmly, though his strides were long, to the tent of King Miraz, not a flicker of expression changing his solemn features. A servant saw him coming and whisked back the tent flap. Thal ducked, and entered.

"My lord," Deverell bowed enough to be respectable. This self-proclaimed king was no one to command respect in Thal's mind, but laws and demands were heeded to, for the sake of one's head.

[King Miraz]

Miraz's eyes raked into Thal's own. He would have had the man bow a little lower, but there was a sternness, a perceptiveness in the man's face that he both liked and suspected. This Deverell could either be a man like him--resourceful, cunning, stern, and determined-- or he could be insolent, conniving, and petty. Still, there was something in the man's gaze--the way it held--that made him wonder if such traits could be to his advantage or detriment. That Deverell was a strong man, there was no doubt. But was he under his control?

Well, now it was time to find out.

"Do you know," Miraz said as he looked absently over the maps on his table, "Why I've sent for you, Deverell?" He paused a moment to survey his response. The man didn't seem to flinch. None of this cowing to authority. Well, there was a time and place for that.

[Thal Deverell]

Thal stared back into Miraz's scornful eyes. The man thought he was better and smarter than he really was. Thal detested that. No doubt he had a weakness that could bring him to his knees in a moment. Pride, most likely. Thal had seen that weakness displayed in 'great' men of power too many times throughout his life. It left him feeling little respect towards them.

His own eyes probed into Miraz's, almost daring him to test Thal, see if he was worth anything. Thal knew he was, and was begging to do something of more excitement. Miraz would never own him, but he would listen for now. He would show respect, he would carry out his duties, he would prove useful. Miraz would be an idiot to pass him up -- he had experience and depth. He could survive on near nothing. He was a warrior.

Thal spoke little, but he expected much. He did much, and he would prove much.

The piercing gaze was held until Miraz turned to his maps. Thal remained in the same position, watching his every move. It was a bit of a habit with the man. When Miraz spoke, it was only to find Thal's eyes still sharp and seeking out his next move.

"No," Thal responded, still meeting Miraz's eyes unwaveringly. If this 'king' thought Deverell would fall to his feet before him, he was more than wrong. Sensing that a simply "no" would not be appreciated greatly, Thal finished with a, "I do not, my lord."

[King Miraz]

The man was being impertinent. However capable the man might be--especially if he proved very capable-Miraz would not allow this soldier to trade upon him and the respect owed to him as sovereign as the soldier acted under a veneer of ignorance. Miraz looked at him disapprovingly, levelly looking at him beneath lowered brows. "I have not received report of your mission to the Lantern Wastelands. I have need of that information."

He laid down his compass and added, "I also wonder, Deverell, how keen you are--whether you have kept an eye and ear open, here. What you know of this land and its people and leaders."

[Abenzio Tuathal Deverell]

OOC: I'm going to fast forward this, summarising what took place here, since it's between two of my characters, which is a little less fun to RP.

IC:

Thal walked out of the tent, back rigid, mind like steel trap. Unable to let go, unyeilding, unrelenting.

He was not appreciative, to say the least, of being placed in the command of a mere boy by the command of a weak and sniveling king. Nevertheless, it was his duty and he'd carry it out as far as he saw fit.

That he was commanded to keep an open eye out was only to be assumed. Thal was accustomed to gathering intelligence, and what was more, he was good at it. Able to listen without speaking, able to gather without giving. He was the perfect soldier, though Miraz had had the nerve to question him.

It was the second part of the command--that he should keep an eye on Gavin and Lord Drinian--that was most disturbing. The man couldn't trust his own subjects. With good reason, Thal told himself. Still, it didn't speak well of his abilities as a ruler if he had to resort to subversive tactics such as spying upon men in his own army.

Thal had given his concise report of the Lantern Wastelands, where there had been little to report, accepted his mission, and departed the tent, moving towards the small group. His eyes narrowed as he approached. Great. Infant-diplomats.

OOC: Continued here: http://intonarnia.com/index.php?topic=651.0