[i]Freya had begun to notice it, as well. The higher ranking members of both sides took to forming with each other, while their recruits took to understanding one another. She couldn't disagree with it, it wasn't as if she and Alric speaking exclusively was any better.[/i] "You mentioned that they should learn to "live together". Perhaps it is too early, but are they succeeding? I see no drawn swords, yet."

"They're forming ranks. Understanding each other, what they're capable of. Swords will be drawn by the morning, but none will die." Alric took a more philosophical approach to his explanation, as if trying to determine what exactly they were doing. "The stronger will name themselves the Frontlines. They seek glory, and to defend the weak. The weak are men and women who's sword play isn't as strong. Then come the archers, who are better with bows and arrows. This is war. You're killed, or you kill. The in-between is waiting for slaughter or saving."

"I understand the concept of war. I've stood on those front line with the vanguard - the spear's point, we call it. I've driven swords, spears, tridents, and more into plenty of good men and women, and my brother and sister have killed just as many as I. War is what forged House Trayven."

"War is what made me." Alric stated, a hint of sadness being heard in his otherwise smooth and calm voice. "War against the unknown." He laughed, almost sarcastically before he sniffled once. It was clear this was bringing up something.

"...That's the most noble cause that I know." [i]Oddly enough, it was as if Freya had discovered a newfound respect for Alric, to some capacity, as she looked up at him. There was an understanding in her motionless eyes, as a silence took over her being, purely out of respect for him.[/i]

"Heh." He cheekily grinned to himself, taking a sip from the wine bottle before lowering his hand. "If you're gonna live, might as fight your way through. A good lesson." Alric suddenly said, most likely referencing the Trayvern's history.

"That's all that I know. Peace is.. a lie, to some extent." [i]Freya would drink from her glass again, as she would allow for Alric to lead the conversation. She seemed more shy than he was, to say the least. Not as outgoing, nor comedic.[/i]

"Then what do you call this, my lady?" He asked, looking over to her. The moonlight shone in his eyes, and his grin fell away into a more concerned smile. This was... who he was. The comedy was a facade to forget about his past. He tried to be charming, covering his Witcher looks. He led the conversation to make himself seem... More human in a sense. Was that what he wanted? To be normal?

"A ceasefire between two armies that have only begun to understand one and another, I suppose." [i]Freya said in response, as the two ideologies would clash together once more: alliances, or conquests. She closed her eyes then, recognizing that sad, concerning smile of Alric's.[/i] "Yet even then, we share too many terrible similarities."

"Terrible similarities seems to be the dojo's speciality. We're not heroes, but we're not villains. That Grey area is where the dojo falls." "Once you fall into the Grey area, you can relate to even the worst that there are. The morally Grey heroes, or villains, or lovers, or... Well I suppose you understand the point." Alric chuckled dryly, take a long sip of wine from the bottle. "Nothing To be done about it."

"Mm. True enough. We fall into the same issue. I don't want to label myself.. Isabella, my sister, would descend down into the darker zones. Arthur.. he's beyond that scale." [i]At the mention of Arthur, Freya would smile a little.[/i] "Where would I be, then?"

"You caused this Alliance between us. If anything, I'd say you're a Lawful Neutral. I do believe that is the term people use." [i]Alric would shrug his shoulders, as if not putting thought into what he was saying.[/i] [spoiler]And yes, I know I reply quickly. It's a problem. [/spoiler]

[spoiler]You're fine.[/spoiler] "A lawful neutralist.." [i]Freya would have to study the select words that had been given to her, by Alric. She would nod after a few seconds, drinking from the glass of dark wine once more, as she offered for him to fill it up for once last drink.[/i] "Hmm. You seem to be more of a neutralist, too. You took action and took the role of leadership, when no other would."

"We do what we must for our people." [i]Alric gave her a cheeky grin, filling the glass halfway full.[/i] "I'm a monster that fights other monsters. The warriors only truly listened to me because I know what the fock I'm talking about." [i]He shrugged. Strange, that he wasn't taking any sort of pride in his actions. He wasn't getting paid, he wasn't getting any weapons.[/i] [i]What could he be gaining from this? From his leadership and his strides to bringing the people together? Perhaps he was just trying to redeem a past life, or perhaps it was something else.[/i]

[i]Freya would begin to slowly question that, in her time of silence as she listened to Alric. The most likely reason was simply morality: that he wished to do good, hoping to redeem his past actions in the face of some higher being, or whatever friends that he may have had over the years that still knew him. She drunk a little again, still far from tipping over.[/i] "And I only lead, because that's been scrеwed into my mind from.. the start, if anything. My "father".. Armillion. Perhaps he sounds horrible to you, perhaps he sounds like a bloodthirsty conqueror to you as well. But he taught me to solve crisis for family, and for morality. To choose between being the dying hero, a fool in a puddle of their own blood, or a triumphant villain, standing overhead in victory. I'd take being the hero any day, because I don't tear apart another's life in my death."

"I respect what I have [i]heard[/i] of your father, that much is certain. He does what he mus to ensure your, and his house's, survival." [i]Alric, had put it into more simple terms than Freya had.[/i] "As for what I'd do in that situation. I couldn't tell you what side I'd be on, but I sure as fock won't be on the bleeding ground."

"...Armillion always loved his children. Always." [i]Freya said, with a slight sigh, before she would continue.[/i] "He could never keep a wife. The first time, he was seventeen, and had bedded a goddess whom assisted House Trayven. The goddess known to us as Thetis, the mother of war. Thetis blessed him with the birth of great Achilles.. whom has fallen, it seems. Before, Achilles rebelled against Armillion, when Thetis demanded his unwavering loyalty, even his soul. But Armillion.. he had other ideas. The second child is his only trueborn. Arthur Trayven, first of his name, heir to the Sunlit Throne. Arthur, while he is a knight, is also a scholar to some degree. When he isn't training, he seeks out knowledge. When he isn't enhancing his skills, he is discovering the wisdoms of kings before Trayve in the libraries. And he has always been good to me. The rest of us.. we are either children of other nations, of which the Old Lion took to caring for after our fathers and forefathers committed such unforgivable, terrible crimes against humanity. Isabella was the third child - a child of Khaom. A champion of the arena. A walking, living war machine. She would nearly kill Arthur in the Battle of Blacklake. Afterwards, the Emperor's Challenge would come, Khaom's championship for whomever would take it's jagged throne.. and Isabella twisted the Emperor's head off, ended the war on her own as an act of surrender, and resigned immediately. To protect her, Armillion conquered the city as the Khaomite forces stood down, and would take her in. Keep in mind, she was.. sixteen. Still a child, in our terms. As a final "fuсk you" to her homeland, Isabella stole the infant dragon of the previous Emperor, of which she named Ragnarok. Now, well.. Ragnarok is no infant. Afterwards, the conquering of Rivelria came, of which I would be taken into his guidance. Nothing much there. But Armillion would slip, eventually.. the Old Lion found himself with another woman, an unnamed one, and would birth two children. Twins. In Trayve, children born out of wеdlock, or bаstards, have the surname of Gold.. these two were Oliver and Niki Gold. Next came the King's final adoption, Julian, and the war that would render him sickly and weak - the War of the Two Lions. Even with all that Trayve had, with our strategy, with our hordes of gold, even with Ragnarok.. it was hell on earth. We would only win as Arthur drove a blade through the terrible Wraithking's neck. Julien, the corrupted king's only son, was a weak and shriveled boy when we found him. And now.. a fantastic mage. ...if anything at all, House Trayven loves it's family."

[spoiler]Did you come up with this? Or did you get it from somewhere?[/spoiler] "Quite the tale." [i]Alric would say, simply as he took a long drink from the bottle of wine in his hand. [/i] "I wish I could tell you of myself, truly. But I do not know of my family. I am led to believe that my father was of noble blood, and my mother.... Was my mother." [i]Alric sighed, shaking his head slightly.[/i] "From the story my mentor, Nautilus told me. I was a weak and frail child in my young years, destined to die. When Nautilus, Witcher of the Cat offered up his services. He stole me from my parents, turned me into one of.... One of the Witchers." [i]Alric placed a hand on the cat medallion around his neck, smiling a somber smile.[/i] "I lived. I survived. When I should have died, I lived. Only, my mind was lost. I was lost. My body has survived, but I became a monster. Then, the Battle of Wolveshire Keep came." [i]Alric released the necklace, taking another long sip of wine.[/i] "That focking battle....."

[spoiler]Came up with it all, other than the bаstard surnames. In A Song Of Ice And Fire/Game of Thrones, the different kingdoms of Westeros have their bаstards take different surnames - for example, in the North, bаstards take the name Snow.[/spoiler] "You don't have to talk about it if you wish not to." [i]Freya would look over at Alric, smiling in her own saddened manner, her light orange eyes meeting his for a moment.[/i] "...you can speak, if you wish to still. My apologies if I sounded rude.. I've met many men and women that can't exactly recall fine memories of the hеll that is war."

[spoiler]And in Dorne, they're called Sands. On the Iron Islands it's Pyke. I watch the show, I know how it works. I think this backstory is awesome. [/spoiler] "That is not the problem, my lady. The problem is that I recall it all too well..." [i]Alric laughed sadly, rubbing his free hand over his face.[/i] "Redanian forces overtook a large area in the north from Nilfgaard. Specifically, a home to Witcher kind. A castle, by the name of Wolveshire Keep." [i]Alric state, taking yet another swig of wine from the bottle.[/i] "There were... 5 or 6 elder Witchers, from the houses. Three dozen anointed Witchers and about 470 potential recruits at the castle. I was one of the anointed Witchers. 513 of us, facing off against an army of 10,000." [i]Alric sighed, leaning against... Something.[/i] "We fought and fought and fought, made every Witcher there feel like ten men. The recruits dropped, 300. 200. 100.... And then a message came. To those who murdered their fellow Witchers and took to the Redanian flag. They would be granted amnesty." "So I did.... Killed the elders in their sleep. Then opened the gates to Redanian forces, helped them kill half of what remained. The others surrendered. It's why they Call me the Bloody Witcher, my lady."

[spoiler]Oh, okay. And thanks, lol.[/spoiler] [i]Freya didn't respond to Alric for a bit. She didn't respond at all, in all honesty. She just stood there, looking at him, those light orange eyes looking for salvation in that odd silence. And of course, it would come.[/i] "...it isn't as if I'm any better. I'm sorry, for.. the silence." [i]Perhaps there was more of a reasoning behind the woman's silence. Perhaps not.[/i]

"It's an expected response from news such as that, my lady." [i]Alric's cat eyes looked towards her, the yellow of them glowing in the moonlight.[/i] "I did what I had to.... To survive. To see tomorrow. Becoming an assassin of my brothers, of people in order to save my brothers...." [i]He took another long sip of wine, throwing the now empty bottle away. [/i] "At what point does what you pay for what you do yield Any result? I did this to save them, now the Witcher order may no longer stand. Yet, here I am. The Bloody Witcher, the only Cat on this forsaken land, and potentially the last Witcher to have walked this earth."

"So how long will it take for you to switch sides? How long will it take for the Dojo to go against us?" [i]Freya's grasp around the glass in her hand would tighten, before her arm would shoot out. It would not deliver a sudden punch towards Alric's throat, though her hand would suddenly grab onto the Witcher's left shoulder, as she met his gaze silently.[/i] "I need you to stay on my side. I need you to stay on [i]our[/i] side. I don't need you to think about what happens if you decide otherwise."

"My lady, I am simply telling you of what I was. Not what I am." [i]Alric stated, being oddly calm in the situation.[/i] "I was a monster, I may still be a monster. But I am an honorable one. I tell you this so that you know... I do not tell you as a threat. I do not tell you to scare you. I tell you say that you know what I am. If you are to fight by my side, if we are to fight together. You must know that I am a monster, but you must also know what I do to survive. I will fight to my last breath, for you. For the dojo, for the people." "I have seen what has come of my actions when I made the wrong decisions, the price that was paid. My brothers dead, and me alone. I pray I don not make the same mistake twice, and I pray you are the right choice." "If you wish me to swear it, I will. I swear I will give you my blade, my life, my troops. I swear it to your gods, and my gods. Which I do not have faith in."[quote][/quote]

"I won't make your swear, to my cause. Not your life, nor your men's lives. Not to me. All that I ask of you is that you continue to give this cause a chance, and that you continue to give your people a chance. Win or lose.. we go with a fight." [i]Freya sighed, placing the empty glass upon the wooden railing, as her gaze would then return to the center of the encampment, lights and pieces of shining glass gleaming off of her orange eyes. She lightly drummed the wooden surface, sighing once more to herself as she looked over at Alric once more.[/i] "I did mention that I preferred honest allies, after all." [i]She smiled a little, her gaze turning away, back to the encampment.[/i]