mooglenet_backup | action - Troia. [open to those in Troia.]

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action - Troia. [open to those in Troia.]

[Excenmille has realized something very, very important during the journey to Troia alongside Lilisette, and that something will probably remain with him for the rest of his days. What is it? It's the fact that airships are not. good. ideas. The young Count is feeling remarkably under the weather as a result of his journey-- too proud to show any fear when he boarded the strange mechanical thing; and now too stubborn, far too stubborn to admit that the whole experience has made him feel remarkably sick. So he merely treads alongside the dancer, an arm twisted up to rest a hand on the sheathe of his greatsword.

Yes, they've had to deal with a few monsters on the way. Nothing of worth though; one or two charges has generally either had them bolt or die. He knows that Lilisette is more than capable of fighting; but something ingrained into him won't allow her to- not while he's here. Maybe it's the root of chivalry -- the same kind his father displayed. He has little idea, and he doesn't really think on it all that much. Instead, he's merely trying his hardest to not vomit; the nausea from the airship ride not going away all that quickly.

Finally, the pair arrive in the city, and Excenmille merely gives it a tired glance -- staring back at the soldiers which of course stare at the dark-skinned child with pointy ears in full body armor.]

...This must be it. I suggest that you rest yourself at the inn...
I will look for Rahal. The area seems guarded enough. Perhaps they may know something.

[Needless to say, he has little idea of Lilisette's relationship with the royal family. Or any of the meetings she's arranged.]

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Nonsense, I brought you here for a reason, and if anyone is going to know about a child showing up in this city it's His Majesty, King Cecil. I consider the royal family to be as dear as my own here, and I've already told him I would bring you by. This way we can wander less, and learn more.

If you're su--
--hey!

[No, Lilisette. He does not like being pushed. At all. He turns and he swats at her hand, eyes narrowing slightly.]

I am not three years of age. I can walk unassisted.

[He just hopes these royals she speaks of have heard something...]

Are you certain? It wasn't too long ago that you were falling over yourself from exhaustion.

You haven't looked well since the airship ride, in any case.

[His voice is sullen.]

I am fine. Honestly, you are getting far worse than Squire Altennia for worrying needlessly.

[He removes his hand from the hilt of his greatsword finally, and instead chooses to cross his arms about his torso as he views the town. It seems idyllic and blissful enough, but the stares are really, really starting to get to him. He's about to retort something to a certain gawper before he views the castle, head actually tilting at the sight of it. It's nothing like Château d'Origulle. It's bigger, for one. Brighter, for another.]

All right, all right.

It's pretty nice, isn't it? No matter how many times I enter I never quite get used to the sight.

Try not to fall behind or you'll get lost.

[Soon after they arrive at the castle, one of the many female guards relays the message to the king that two pointy-eared children had appeared. Realising one of them could only be a certain dancer, Cecil disregards formalities and greets them in the entrance hall.]

Lilisette! I'm glad to see you well. [Then he regards Excenmille.] Ah, and you would be the friend she spoke of...?

[Unfortunately, Excenmille is not used to any type of formality being discarded. The guards outside the castle seem to stare at him a little more fixedly than the townspeople, and it's all he can do to bite his tongue. And by bite his tongue, it's more accurate to say he's chewing the thing off. He merely narrows his eyes at the ladies that don't really seem to be wearing all that much and continues into the hall, wondering where their cathedral is.

Then he sees the king. Only! Because of not being used to lack of formality, he assumes it's yet another female guard. That appears to be wearing more than the others. Maybe a captain? But then the "guard" speaks, and he blinks a few times, glancing immediately to Lilisette but of course, not saying anything. When he'd addressed though, he does speak.

...In that lovely honest way only children can.]

Yes. My name is Excenmille M Aurchiat. I hail from the same lands as Lilisette.
...
[Beat. ...Why isn't the guard ushering them into a throneroom?]

...If possible, I would like to see your king posthaste. There is a matter of the utmost importance I would bring to his attentions.

Excenmille.

This is King Cecil Harvey. He rules over Troia in this world.

I'm very sorry, King Cecil. Excenmille is still out of sorts.

[Cecil just laughs, not offended in the slightest.] It's an easy enough mistake to make.

[Troia has no throne room, after all, since they had no single ruler in the past, and the Epopt chamber is a holy place reserved solely for the Epopts. Besides, he doesn't see formal audiences as an absolute necessity amongst friends.]

It's a pleasure, Excenmille. What matter did you wish to discuss with me?

I am not out of sorts. Do not make excuses for me, as if I am some sort of child!

[...Only he is. He scratches his head, looking to the floor at Lilisette's scolding. It's obvious he's experienced it before and likely will experience it again. But it's funny. The more she goes off on him, the more resistant he becomes to it. He has a few questions. Namely: If you're a king where is your beard and your crown?, If you're a king, where is your throne?, If you're a king, where are your attendants? But! Even if he wasn't immediately scolded -- he does have more manners than to show a lady up in front of her associates. He is a noble after all. And Alphonimille's son.

...Some part of him can't resist raising his eyes to Cecil and cracking the most wry of smiles, however. Something about this man reminds him of Philleulais... and that is a very rare thing. Butyes. The matter. He turns serious almost immediately. Rahal and Lilisette's thoughts of him being here of course is the reason he agreed to come to Troia.]

We believe a friend of mine may have been transported to this world as well. He is a little shorter than I, bears the same uniform, and has a sword and a shield as arms. Have you heard anything of him?

His name is Rahal.

Did you wish to tell of Zogbog as well?

[Cecil shakes his head. He'd know soon enough if another child with pointed ears arrived here, considering all the fuss being made over this one.]

I'm afraid not. But new arrivals are appearing all the time -- your friend may appear yet. I will inform you immediately if he does arrive here. [And Lilisette's question earns a curious look.] Zogbog?

[Damn it.

He's unable to hide a look of the most bitter disappointment. Hey. He's ten years old. He shouldn't have let himself actually think Rahal would be here, but he has. No matter how grown up he thinks he is, there's still slight relapses. And by the goddess, they're bitter when burst. He merely nods, unable to hide the disappointment from his tone.]

...You have my thanks.

[Yes, Zogbog.]

It is a warning to you and your kingdom I bring in regard to him.

Another may have-- nay... most likely has been taken. He has little talent in all respects of the arts of war, save for one. Great capacity to avoid death thanks to his innate cowardice... and he faced it at the hands of mine and my erstwhile teacher's blades. For that reason, it is likely he has used the incantation that brought me here for his own ends and plots, wherever he landed, Probably on his face.. even now to bring chaos to this world for his own ends. Or attempt to.

He is what we call an orc. About the height of you-- though probably twice as wide. Green skin, pig-like eyes, facial features and mannerism. Zogbog in particular knows the common tongue. He is also devious enough to twist these learned words to serve his bidding and deceive those who would extend an arm to him. ...I wish not for more to lose their lives to his plots.

The orcs have plagued our home for many, many years. In the war, and even after, they constantly assaulted San d'Oria. Should they come to Gaia it would be prudent to look out for them, and eliminate them at the source. This world has enough to worry about without adding Vana'diel's beastmen into the mix.

King Cecil is a paladin like many who looked after San d'Oria. There is likely much you could learn from him.

[Cecil can't help but feel a twinge of sympathy for the poor boy at the sight of such disappointment. He silently vows to do all he can to help him find his lost friend; it's obvious he means much to him.

At the description of the orc, Cecil nods.]

Thank you for the warning. There has been no reports of such a creature as him, but Troia will remain vigilant, both for any sign of your friend and for any orcs.

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action - Troia. [open to those in Troia.]

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