World-Monquista

[Ulysses Septimus]

Home of the Monquistadors.

[Ulysses Septimus]

He was quite proud when Lord Kane chose him to be the ambassador to Monquista--it meant the Supreme Commander trusted him like he trusted his uncle Ulysses--though, Octavian could not help but still be disappointed when he heard he was not to announce his presence to anyone, nor would he be allowed to take his mighty ship the Avenger.

That, according to the Supreme Commander, was for his good, as Resistance activity had been heard to be very active in that world.

Marching off the inconspicuous Valencian skiff, Octavian walked into Monquista city as casually as he could manage...

[Kestrel Orne]

“Sorry… sorry…”

It was a constant murmur when he came to Monquista City. After all, he was a great deal taller than the majority of the inhabitants. And then there was his species to consider. So it was very rare that Tomas was asked by those at the Abbey to travel outside of the island, but in this case… well, his size and strength were required. He could transport larger crates much easier than the frail old Monquistans back at St Bonobo’s. It just meant a few days of travelling in silence before being glared at until he was certain his head would explode.

“Sorry…”

Finally reaching the dock, Tomas grunted a bit as he adjusted his grip on the crate before finally shifting it onto the deck of the ship that would be taking him back to the Abbey.

“Is that it, [i]human[i]?”

He looked up as the irritated captain scowled down at him, instantly cowed. “Y-yes. That is, I think so…”

A faint grumbling of annoyance from above. Tomas stood upright, frowning as he mentally recounted the day’s supplies, now doubting that he’d truly gotten it right.

[Ulysses Septimus]

Adjusting his black hood and cloak so they covered his capello, the captain of the Royal Guards glanced around, not bothering to hide the emotionless mask that was his face.

It had been much faster than he expected (of course, he had to use his Dragoon autocannon as a threat, but he chose to ignore it), and that made him happy.

Though it was slowly beginning to evaporate as he made his way back to his ship, as he had noted the figure of a human not far away from the skiff he was commanding, a figure looking suspiciously like a pirate...

[Kestrel Orne]

"Just... just hold on a second, please." The diminutive captain didn’t seem like he was going to listen, but Tomas figured he may as well try. There was one more thing, he’d realized. Just a small errand that was more of a personal favour. He needed to retrieve a letter for librarian Cuvello. One that supposedly had come from a place far from Monquista, beyond the stormgates. He’d like to see such places, one day, but for the time being Tomas was somewhat content to stay home. Though these trips to the capital were beginning to wear on him.

At the final, reluctant nod from the captain of the ship, the young man nodded frantically in return, adjusting the Monquistan mail he wasn’t quite used to yet, but was the only thing at the Abbey to fit him, a relic from time gone by.

“A sólo cinco minutos, por favor!”

“Cinco minutos, humana. No más.”

And at that warning, Tomas took a deep breath, trying to make his way through the crowd of Monquistans without stepping on anyone.

[Ulysses Septimus]

Octavian was ready to board his ship, though he stopped dead in his tracks for a single second: he was fairly certain that the human he had spotted earlier had seen his face under his black hood...

As if he wasn't already conspicuous enough with his 7' stature.

[Kestrel Orne]

Something was wrong.

At least, that was the feeling that came over him. Tomas paused in mid journey for a moment, still uttering vague apologies as smaller inhabitants raised their voices in complaint against his apparent blockade in their path. He was too concerned about his time limit and his errand to truly process whatever he’d seen, only left with a faint glimpse of dark, empty eyes in his mind. It sent a shiver down his spine.

“…stay focused, human.” He mumbled to himself, trying to shake off the strange sensation and push his way forward. The one he’d receive the letter from had a shop on the far end of the district, so there was no time to spare. Not unless he wished to secure an alternate way back to the Abbey. Of course, old Hooktail could always be persuaded with a few bottles of Yum.

[Ulysses Septimus]

Pulling his black hood down a little more, the captain of the Royal Guards wrapped his sleeveless cloak a little tighter around his frame, the gears in his mechanical body clinking slightly as he turned, walking back inside the city with his head bowed slightly.

He had to investigate: if it was how he had thought, then it would be more than useful to see just who he'd be dealing with later.

Octavian didn't pause to consider maybe he was acting a little too paranoid... That word was not in his programming... No... One could never be too prepared.

"Always stay one step ahead."He muttered, pushing through the crowds with care, "well, I'm doing what you taught me, uncle... Father can't blame me this time for sure..."

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