"In an alliance, everyone pursues their own goals before they would see to another's. In conquest, they do the same, only that they serve instead. Or they are crushed. ...a quote, from Armillion. Gods, he scares me at times." [i]Freya would sigh at that, drinking.[/i] "I've tried to learn people outside of titles. Perhaps it's stratagem, but.. I don't necessarily develop friendships."

"Friendship is overrated." Alric sighed as well, shaking his head slightly. "I prefer simple Alliances. Much easier to handle, both more [i]and[/i] less is expected. It's overall better if I may speak so boldly."

"Continue to speak so boldly, if I will be honest. I would prefer that, over a friend who doesn't express themselves." [i]Freya filled up her glass with more wine, before offering the bottle of the drink to Alric.[/i] "Take it, if you'd like. Too much, and I'll probably fall off the battlements - I'm far from a heavy drinker, I suppose."

Alric nodded in simple thanks, taking the bottle from her hands. He examined its writing, looking it over before looking back up at her. "I do not enjoy the after effects very much, but the drink itself can be quite pleasing." He stated, holding the bottle at his side. "Thank you, Lady Freya."

"You use the term "Lady" quite a lot." [i]Freya would calmly jest, nodding towards the Witcher. Upon the bottle was "The Dragon's Delight" from a place called "Khaom". The liquid was a darker color than most wines, surprisingly strong in it's taste, as Freya would be the example as she closed her eyes and swallowed.[/i] "You think that they'll like each other?" [i]Freya would murmur, studying the conversing Dojo warriors and the Trayvens. It was a new sight, clearly.[/i]

"We can hope they will. But the most likely case is that there will be tension." Alric sighed, looking over the Warriors. Already, it was clear that there were cliques being formed. Warriors joining together based on armour or weaponry. "Just as there is tension between other Alliances."

[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."