Indignation is a Fire Emblem Roleplay. It takes place within the Outrealms as worlds collide and kingdoms wage an endless war. However, amongst the quarrels of men do the horrors of the Outrealm reach in to kill and destroy. Fight alone or join forces with other warriors as we create dramatic tales or wage war!
We are open to roleplayers of all skill levels. If you are interested in joining, check out the discord chat and meet some of our members. Or if you're ready to jump right in, go ahead and join the site!
While it may be that Hoshido is quite the lovely environment, Nohr had beauty in its own way as well. The eerie nights, the foreboding fog, and most certainly the thick darkness... oh.
Weren't all those aforementioned unpleasant things to normal people? Even the simple-minded Nohrian natives felt unprecedented danger of staying out after dark, even in the cities.
Not so with creatures born to live in the night.
A single carriage sat in the midst of the woods with a single lantern hung upon the roof, illuminating a door and the area around it. The carriage was a unique one, as it appeared to be a single small building on four wheels. Not so far from the vehicle, a huge silver steed grazed upon a large patch of grass, burdened only by its saddle and a single cord tying it to a tree.
There was a dumb-looking mercenary that sat on his haunches on the footsteps of the carriage, armed on his hip with a single sword. His head was rested against his hand, his throat generated loud snores that broke the peacefulness of the environment every few seconds.
His very first night in the wild- not quite as horrible as he had expected. On the one hand, he had not been mauled by any of the local fauna nor was he grievously wounded due to any mishaps. On the other hand, sleep was a resource he yearned for. Out of his own concern for their safety, he decided to keep watch while his guide slept. Paranoia was a sufficient replacement for caffeine even if he did not know what exactly to look out for.
Creaking. Turning. Rolling to a pause. Perhaps it was merely his imagination acting up, or so he thought until he saw a light flicker in and out from between the trees.
The first thing he wanted to do was wake his acquaintance up before heading towards the source. However, his objective changed as the glimmering disappeared. He decided to let her rest while he investigated.
Step by silent step he departed with his equipment. A short trek brought him deeper into the forest though not too far from where he was camping. As the trees parted from sight, they revealed a peculiar sight.
A carriage out and about in the middle of a forest during the night? Too odd.
Indeed, even if that half-wit, dullard, pea-brained simpleton of a guard couldn't manage to keep his peepers open for even three minutes while his gullet produced the most horrendous of gurgles...
An elf's eyes shot open in irritation as he stared at the door from within his coach. His whole body began to quiver with vexation. A long, black streak ran across a piece of parchment upon a crate before him. Another ruined letter.
"Gyaaaah!" the elf cried shrilly as he leapt over the box and kicked the door open, effectively knocking the mercenary to the ground. With every fiber of his being, the elf began to wave his arms over his head, "That is enough napping! Get up, GET UP you loathsome chowderhead!"
The large man sat up with drool falling from his mouth and thick brow twisted in confusion.
"Duhuh? Wud?" he mumbled as he scratched the top of his head.
"You!" the elf's arms swung forward, "If you're going to sleep, sleep at least three meters from the carriage! I've had it up to HERE with your gurgling!" His arm emphatically shot high over his head as he began to kick the mercenary's heels, "Go on! Get!"
"Wawawawa!" Soon after, the mercenary scrambled to his feet and made a mad dash into the woods.
With a deep sigh, the elf leaned his head in the direction of the visitor and stuck his hands in his pockets.
"Not the most professional display, wasn't it?" he said with a deep-set frown, he hopped off of the small staircase and slowly walked with the light on his back, "But! Sometimes a hard-working fellow has to release the pressure from numbskull subordinates, right?" A sheepish grin stretched across his face as his hands came up in a shrug.
Unmoving was Grant’s state. Watching the odd events unfold right in front of him would do just about that to most normal people. Neither such an expressive elf or a dim person had he met in the past- not even children he had seen acted in their manners. Conflicting as their actions may have been, they did share one common trait- reactiveness.
The guard set the scene into play with his near limitless snoring, perhaps such a loud volume could be weaponised into irritating one’s enemies to no end- it proved to be effective when used against the elf. Even more piercing in the exchange were words directed towards said guard by the elf himself.
The young man felt ashamed that he found a slight sense of comedy in this situation.
Not a smile formed from his lips- he remained as stoic as ever. A familiar coldness stabbed past Grant’s skin. Too quick change in mood for him to follow. The elf gave him a clear indication that he enjoyed, to some extent, scolding those lower than him. Despite the butler’s own take in them, he chose to play along for the time being.
A single rising hand came at shoulder height to pause as if the owner weight his options. “Quite,” He agreed upon the first question. “What you might sate may be true from your perspective, though it might seem you have lost yourself a companion.” The hand shifted to the bottom of his chin.
“Then again, the appellation ‘companion’ seems to be a stretch unless you count the literal meaning belonging to it.” He pointed towards the man with the tips of his fingers. His palm flipped to face skyward sluggishly as he asked in an almost mimicking tone, “right?”
Uncertainty of what the elf had in mind stirred uneasiness for Grant. The sentiment of familiarity only pegged away at it’s barely tolerable state.
"Haha... companion..." the elf pushed his glasses up his nose bridge with a snide look on his face, "Indeed... if you would permit, I would even refer to him as a nuisance. Any guard who sleeps on the job is no guard at all. But, I digress!" He seemed to shift to a more sinister mood.
"Now... you. Grant... yes? I've heard about you quite a bit." The fellow brushed his fingers against his chin, "... another wanderer. Man without mark. Meticulous and noble... but oh, what a track record." His shoulders seem to move with his deep laugh, "Hmmhmhm... are you in this place to seek out a fight? Some excitement to liven this dull life of yours?" His hands rose once more in front of him, "Oh, but I'm just guessing there, it's not like me to assume too much!"
Regardless of his words, an impish simper crossed his sharp face.
There it was- the social exchange of blows. A one way exchange that is. Only this round, his came to a much stronger hit than Grant had expected. Knowledge on his being was rare due to him being a foreigner. He had not even spoken to the locals frequently enough outside of basic trading and those he helped. His hand shifted towards the hilt of a hidden dagger before he hesitated.
Annoyance was hidden behind a calm demeanour.
“Flattering,” the butler announced as he lifted his palms fully into view. “How inadequate for a compliment to precede a marginally passive insult.” Fingers clenched and unclenched to stretch. “Rather backhanded if I may say so myself. Nevertheless, I shall not lie.” An unsettlingly cold gaze met the elf’s delighted own.
“I am who you speak of.”
Words spoken with neither aggression, nor fear.
Arms fell back at the pace of a crawl to his sides. “Though, if you have come here exchange pleasantries- I am afraid I have no mood for it.”
"Oh, no!" the elf waved his hands in the air, "No, no, no, no! I do believe we've already gone through pleasantries. We're already down to the nitty-gritty! You see, as a representative of a company who caters to the needs of its clients, we simply must know everything there is to know! Rest assured, I am an ally of yours."
He tapped the side of his oval glasses, "... And, I do know that you are a butler. Yes! A butler, just like me. We're two sides of the same coin here. Equals! Well... not equals in perhaps the same way." His hands clasped together, "After all, I am simply an itinerant merchant."
Upon hearing the elf refer to himself as an ally, eyes narrowed and brows knit. No single person truly considered him as their ally- not even the person he had been following. Yet him, a person he had no knowledge of or any connection to, proclaimed himself as one. Furthermore, he knew of his past as a butler. The turn he had for questioning was due.
“Right again you are, though if I may be so insolent as to add-“ Rubbing the back of his right wrist, he spoke. “I have absolutely no reason to do business with you.” He wriggled a few fingers in West’s direction. “Greetings followed by sharing an extensive research account on that which you wish to sell to does not fit with me as a marketing strategy I must confess.”
One of his two index fingers raised to the bottom of his chin. “Duly, I should ask you.” A brief silence filled the air between the two prior to him speaking once more.
Ho... the eloquence Grant manifests is awfully refreshing, albeit the topic may not be so. This fellow might be uncomfortable sharing his own self, yet that makes him all the more intriguing.
"Marketing strategy or not, it stands that you are one of the most fascinating visitors to have graced this land," the elf answered, "As to what I want, that really is in the air! Eyes are turning, and clients are interested. With new people come new opportunities, as a wise man once said." He linked his fingers together gently, "Your companion... I trust she has already unveiled herself for you. A mark of trust I would say. My appearance easily rattles her to do so. An expected reaction given past discrimination of her race..."
His eyebrows raised and gave him a toothy smile, "Ah, we're getting into the more sensitive things. We shan't talk in the open. Shall I invite you into my carriage so we may talk over tea and biscuits? I'm sure it would be welcome considering that you have had the taste of the wild."
“My acquaintance,” he corrected with a harsh gaze. “Is off the table for discussion.”
How ironic that not long before he was the one speaking of companionship. In truth, he had no real connection to her. Respect was of plentiful possession from him. However, he could not help but wonder if it was mutual or if he merely perceived it to be. Indifferent responses met any sort of discussion he brought about. Even on a rare occasion where he jested, a stoic gaze remained unbroken. Perhaps she viewed him equally as the elf saw the mercenary.
His gaze shifted to the ground for a brief moment before turning back to the elf.
Even he had to admit that a new presence would make for an interesting change of pace from constant insouciance. “My appetite is akin to a great number trees in this forest at the moment.” He lifted his palm to inspect it’s gloved surface. “Dead.” One step forward was taken.
“However, I accept your invitation for now- though I will not stay for long.” In accordance with his word, he went onward to follow the merchant. Still, he would keep his guard up. There was no telling what he could have in store, quite literally, for him.
Acquaintance! Ooh, what a severe change of significance! Ah, but it really only was day one on their journey, wasn't it?
West clasped his hands together, "Wonderful, let us head on inside then." Thus, he guided the butler along and took him into the carriage. At once, one may notice the warmth of the cabin, and given that the carriage was in camp mode, the interior was quite roomy, enough to stand if one were 5'9. There were various compartments on the walls containing a menagerie of knickknacks and baubles, as well as a single lantern hanging from the ceiling. The smell of the cabin was very homely, with a touch of lavender fragrance wafting about.
"Make yourself at home!" said the elf as he moved to make a pot of tea, "I'll have some tea made to refresh yourself." There was a wood stove in the corner that inhabited a smokeless fire, where West placed a small metal pot inside, no doubt full of water. The merchant gestured toward a cushion nearer to the entrance of the carriage, "I recommend the cushion, Grant. It's exquisitely plush."
Odd, he found it. What only one true day in the wilderness could do to a man’s appreciation and perspective of even a small abode astonished him. He had no idea that the place would look so bright from the inside after only having been disconnected from civilisation for a single day.
Ornaments which lined the walls caught his attention, thought he did have to take care as to not be too intrigued lest he hit his head on the ceiling or any sort of structural support. The elf had good tastes in decor, that much he had to admit. Yet, his judgement of character would be reserved until whatever real conversation they proceeded with came surface. He nodded once at the man’s advice.
Cushions were not exclusive from the general theme he had noticed about their place. No wonder the worker was sleeping outside while he resided in here. Such a large man would tear the place completely asunder simply by moving about. Still, he held pity for the brute- it was not his fault he was a sizeable man, nor was it his fault for the lack of sense he possessed.
There he sat and there he waited. His palms laid still on his lap and at the ready.
The tea kettle came to a boil, and thus the elf removed it and poured the hot water into an embellished tea pot that already had a film sack of ground tea leaves inside of it. A few minutes of steeping past, and the sack was removed via a string attached to it.
"One of my newer inventions," said the elf with a proud smile, "I call them... 'tea purses.' The purse is made of an fine, fibrous material that keeps the tea leaves from spreading through the entire cup. As a result, the tea is cleaner, and it is possible to drink the whole cup without eating the bitter leaves!" He cleared his throat as he poured the tea into similarly fancy tea cups, "It's supposed to be a thoughtful product. By tradition of Nohrian custom, tea leaves or coffee grounds are used to tell fortunes. I myself am a practiced teller, you see. My old master thought it would be a worthwhile skill if I were to serve a noble..."
A light laugh escaped him as he pushed the filled teacup toward Grant , "Oh, look at me... diving into my personal history over tea. This is an exotic blend from the hot spring city of Izumo. Please, enjoy!"
“Tea purses.” Grant echoed after him. A finger slipped into the handle of the cup to lift. He peered into it’s contents as he swirled it. “Clever.” The butler nodded his head, lowering his cup back down to the table. “You might be able to turn quite a profit by selling these to those you had previously served.” As was the case of people in power residing in Ylisse, it was all the same. Drinking the mixture was not one of his most practiced activities. Brewing it however, was.
Letting the tea cool for a few moments, his suspicion of the elf’s motives only intensified twice fold. An ever growing paranoia he possessed urged him to think that their meeting was not of coincidence. Assumptions were kept null for him- it was all worthless conjecture without any solid proof.
More importantly and obviously, he had been invited in on the notion proclaiming the elf’s interest of him. Interest in what aspect, he did not know. Sitting around certainly was not about to let him on to what the curiosity was. Therefore he began to speak.
“My sincere thanks for your hospitality.” A hand gestured towards the teacup. “I hope you are willing to accept it.” Irises flickered from the drink to the elf before them. “Now then, what is it that you wish to discuss?”
West merely nodded at the man's comment on the product and picked up his teacup to sip from, verifying the safety of the beverage. After placing it back down, the elf's air changed into that of a businessman. Indeed, discussion was better off done while the dragon still slumbered.
"Your thanks is greatly appreciated, Sir Grant ," he said with a nod of his head, "Of course, the reason for this discourse is simple--a trifle of a burden, really. " The light above them flickered, causing a faint shimmer to pass his spectacles. "I would like to extend the hand of my organization to you. Ah, but not just as some lowly grunt, but as a fully-backed member of the organization." His hand reached up as his middle finger pushed his glasses up his nose bridge. "... Ah, yes, how rude of me, I haven't even introduced myself to you. I am Weston Aldanier, owner of West's Curiosities. I prefer West, of course."
INDIGNATION is the work of MEG and NVMORE. Any and all content is copyrighted to INDIGNATION.
Copying, altering, or stealing any of the site's content is prohibited.
All of INDIGNATIONS'S characters are the original work of their owners may not be replicated or stolen.
All images and graphics belong to their rightful owners and INDIGNATION does not claim to own any of them.
The skin was created by TIMELAPSE OF WICKED WONDERLAND.