[An interaction between Lyrena Auberan, Tyrasius, Styrren and Hove]
Hove sat quietly on the wall opposite the city gate watching the people moving past with a calm and apparently disinterested expression. In truth she was studying them carefully, looking for any indication that someone who appeared to just 'be there' might have more of a purpose. So far, no one had caught her eye, though the beggar that the guards had chased off an hour ago was now back telling his tale of woe to anyone who would listen. The thoroughfare from the gate to the High Walk was pretty busy, though most people were heading down the steps to the Mystic Market, rather than heading into the grassy paths of the residences. The boulevard in the direction of the Guardian hall was much less busy, which she reflected was probably a good thing.
As the sun passed behind the cliffs, heading into the night, it cast a luminous gold light that twinkled of the edges of the crystal set at the city's entrance and caused shadows to dance and lengthen with greater and greater speed. The sound of a dog barking just once returned her focus to the gateway itself. This was the call of the AmranKai she had posted to watch the coast road leading up to the city. She hopped down off the wall and made her way to stand near the Guardian posted at the entrance this afternoon. He nodded to her in recognition and they both turned keen eyes onto the dusty track that connected the city to that great thoroughfare. Visible in the distance now was a small-ish cart, pulled by a single horse.
Flanking it were two others horses, one of which looked like a shire even at this distance and was unmistakably carrying the gigantic form of Tyrasius. The other, she assumed for now, was ridden by Lyrena, whose armour glinted with dim flashes of gold from the setting sun. The party was making even time and Hove estimated they would be at the gates of Ansa`fel within the next three or four minutes. She raised her hand to the back of her head, apparently scratching her skull, and flashed three quick finger signs. In response, a few of the millers-about and street traders stopped what they had been doing and moved over to the border of the thoroughfare and the small stream that ran through the High Walk. They took instruments out of various bags and sacks and struck up an impromptu performance. It drew a reasonably-sized crowd and attracted the attention of many of the city's denizens and visitors. This had the effect of mostly clearing the area immediately inside the main gate, leaving the cart, Lyrena and Tyrasius a clear path to Hove and on to the barracks. Hove smiled. So far, so good.
Their moderate from Cawdor closing to an end, the Dame Commander and her two Guardians were finally nearing the city gates. Corporal Styrren, a normally cleanly shaven man of middle age, sported a sizable stubble as his lean, chainmailed arms occasionally cracked the reins of the tired horse leading the wagon containing the late King's remains, while Lyrena and Tyrasius flanked the carriage and kept up with its trotting pace. A few small barrels and crates were scattered in the wagon, to distract from the royal payload - a solid, mostly rectangular block of black ice that looked like it hadn't even begun to show signs of melting. The three white capes mostly concealing the icy sarcophagus were as dry as bone - and clean, aside from one riddled with speckles of dirt and grime.
The road ahead looked agreeable enough. The trio weren't being followed, by the looks of it - perhaps they had been discreet enough back in Cawdor. Styrren, who boasted having the eyes of a hawk, had warned his companions that it seemed like they had been watched - and spotted - from the city walls , and the convoy slowed, to watch out for anyone trying to greet them on their way in. Perhaps the Dame Commander's letter to Iskrin had arrived in time after all.
They slowed some more as they noticed sudden commotion growing on the other side of the walls, cautious whether their arrival was what stirred the crowds. Thankfully, it seemed to be something else. Musicians, performers, rowdy drunks - all at once. Perhaps they would not attract unneeded attention after all. Neither of the three Guardians particularly looked like they had seen battle in the past few days - though Lyrena by far looked the worst. Her unwiped and unpolished armor had only a faint glimmer - and her muddy sabatons had none at all. Her normally well-maintained hair looked sticky from dried sweat, a few strands glued to the side of her face - while her heavy, apathetic eyes scanned the surrounding area with an indifference. The Blood elf looked finally upon the palace, which was far, and only partially visible from where they stood. With a hand gestured, she silently beckoned their companions to proceed. That is, until they reached the Guardian outpost now beside them at the city's entrance - out of which someone not of the Guardians' ilk stepped out. A woman of the elven variety, it looked like. Lyrena paused her companions with another - different - gesture, and the party waited, some more patiently than others.
Hove watched the party come to a halt and nodded to Lyrena. Up close, the blood elf looked decidedly disheveled and extremely worn out. "I am Hove," the AmranKai said in a friendly tone. "Iskrin has sent me to meet you. I am to accompany the package wherever it goes." She looked at the wagon, eyeing the white cloaks laying over an oblong shape. "In return, and if you wish, he is willing to allow the package to rest at the Guardian hall under your watch." She looked back up to the blood elf. "What are you plans? We have arranged a distraction to make moving this into the city a little easier."
Styrren and Tyrasius dipped their heads in acknowledgment at Hove as she approached them, but Lyrena did not. Her face barely moved from its stoic and tiredly neutral expression. Only her eyeballs shifted as she trailed Hove as the elven woman walked up - and squinted, for a moment, as if the Dame Commander had seen this representative before. In the palace? A delay came after Hove explained her presence and made her offers. Though, not for the Blood elf being deep in thought - even though her eyes did now piercely directly into Hove's own. "What do you want me to do with it?", her somber voice finally spat out in reply, in regards to the offer - the honor - of having the King's body remain in the barracks, a place Malekith himself had once served and called home.
After that, Lyrena slid off her horse and handed the reins to Styrren, who still drove the wagon in center. "The palace,", she carelessly added, like an indifferent foreman reiterating the thing to do before the end of a long workday. It seemed as if she was addressing her two Guardian allies, rather than Hove - even though she didn't particularly grace them with her jaded gaze. Without even looking at Hove again, Lyrena took off her diadem-like helmet, and shook her head from side to side - the non-sticky parts of her blonde mane spreading out. She dropped the helm like a tool no longer needed or wanted, its metals ringing as it bounced a couple of times on the pavement before swaying a bit in place. By the time it stopped, Lyrena had already started to walk away from the group, and into the city. Neither the palace nor the barracks did the Blood elf destine to. She was going home, by the looks of it.
Neither Styrren nor Tyrasius looked surprised as they peered back to Hove. Perhaps this had been the Dame Commander's mood the whole way back - not that either of the two remaining men themselves looked particularly cheerful or prideful of this only partial accomplishment. Styrren climbed off the wagon with a soft grunt, and squatted down to pick up his commander's discarded helm. The two Guardians then looked ready to resume the remainder of their mission - and bring the deceased ruler back to his former home.
Hove watched the Dame Commander walk off towards her home and smiled. She had feared Lyrena might be possessive of her beloved king's corpse, but the opposite seemed currently to be true. All to the better. "Styrren, was it?" she asked, turning to the man on the cart. "To the palace, as your Commander orders. I will ride along."