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----Harashi Empire-----------------------------------------------------------
Ryouku stood watching the red sunrise from the watchtower where he was stationed just outside the palace, and again felt the surge of pride from seeing his country's namesake. Though it disgusted him to see such a great nation in the hands of such a weak man as the Emperor, he knew he had no choice but to guard him. Mistress Kanna had refused to leave her husband's side after the recent attempted assassination, and she and his elder sister Yin were the only ties that Ryouku felt to staying here protecting that old loon.

It was true: Ryouku disliked his father. He felt like he lacked potential, that he was content to sit the years away and dwindle down to nothing while other kingdoms fought them and each other for power, wealth and honor.

Casting these thoughts aside for the moment, me looked down into the central arena area in the courtyard of the palace as the first spectators and combatants started to show, warming up for the tournament.

----Kingdom of Argona---------------------------------------------------------
Nathaniel Rothschild strode listlessly about the balcony overlooking the castle gardens, his mind awash in thought. He had not been able to catch the fleeting glimpses of sleep, and had long since resigned himself to another sleepless night. His father, King Perillus, seemed to be on the brink of war with the Noldia empire to the north. While he had no doubt that they had an advantage in Mounted and Melee combat, he was worried about the magical capabilities of the empire they opposed.

Pondering thoughts of imminent war for land, Nathaniel paced his way about the balcony. It would be a few hours before sunrise.

----Republic of Reashadam----------------------------------------------------
Dorguk Drained another pitcher and grumbled to the tavernkeeper about another, knowing his limit, and wisely the subject of his attention did as well. Dwarves were, after all, sturdy customers, able to hold their own in both combat and drinking contests, and this not only meant that he would have been an effective bouncer, it also meant that the tavern would profit more from him than anyone else, as he had to drink more before calling it quits. He fixed his eyes on the Tavern Keeper as he spoke.

"Gimmie some o'tha finest Cadenese wine, m'boy." he stated, proving that, even after five pitchers, he was still quite sober. Hastily the keeper obeyed, working hard for his gold as he did.

The lone hum of a young lad and the sharp banging of a metal filled the early morning air. The color of the world seeming to erupt in color as the day began, but for Kanturu the only colors he saw was that of the fire and the sparks that erupted from his toiled labor, the smell of smoke and a metallic taste which tingled in the ones mouth was all he knew outside of the tavern. He grew to love it. Beating the sun to rise he would work, sometimes for no reason at all. For fun or purpose one could never tell though he heated and cooled, bended and worked until the job was perfectly done, at times rubbing the sweat from his face as he smiled at his developing product.

Pushing the goggles up on his head a fine area stood lighter and more distinct than the rest of his soot covered face. It would seem as if he never tired, never slept, never did anything than work, and most times this could be the case. His devotion to his purpose his buisness, and his duty were one with him. He couldn't help it, and it was a rare quailty to find most times.

Setting his tools aside he ran his finger under his jaw and down his neck, losing himself in thought as looked out of the shop and into his surroundings. "Such Beauty."

With such words he wiped himself down as best he could manage and walked back to the tavern, leaving a Notice sign on the shop's front.

[OOC:Is this alright?]

((Other than the fact that, Like Argona, the republic would still be in nighttime, you're good. Sunrise is just beginning in the Harashi empire, everywhere else it would still be dark.))

Receiving his wine, the dwarf acknowledged the new arrival, determined him to be of the Republic as well, and dismissed him from further thought all as he lifted the pitcher to his face to take the first sip. He had, in fact, frequented the tavern often and as such the neighborhood children would often beg him to share some tales and Dwarven lore, which he entertainingly did. He had often seen the new arrival working hard in the smithy, and thought that the lad's future was bright indeed. But he had never spoke to him, and did not intend to now, as surely the children would be waking up a few hours from now and no doubt would want to hear some stories.

Balthasar:
The loud dwarf awakens me. I look drowsily around. One of my friends is speaking quietly with some girl, they're sharing his cloak as a blanket. The rest are passed out, part of the table is sticky with beer where some sleeper knocked over a mug.

Judging from the state of the party, it must be quite late... or early. I look out a window and see that the sun isn't yet peeking. We have at least another hour before the barkeep evicts us. My brain continues to slowly awaken and I finally process what the dwarf said.

I stand, greeted by the familiar ache sleeping in a wooden chair will give. Careful not to wake my compatriots, I zig zag thru the maze of chairs assembled around our tables, and approach the bar.

"Good day, sir dwarf." I go to lean against the bar, extending my had toward it, and miss. I fall until my arm hits the bar. Now I'm at a little more of an angle than I intended, but continue leaning with my arm instead of my hand. I look at the bar suspiciously, wondering how much of the night's revelries I've slept off.

I turn back to the dwarf. "While visiting our fine city, why not enjoy a local wine? Let me buy us a bottle." I half turn to the barkeep, realize I've forgotten something important, and turn back to the dwarf. "What sort of wine do you like? I'm partial to blackberry or a tawny port, but will share your preference tonite. Variety, spice of life, all that rot."

I'm not slurring much. It must be close to morning... I wonder if I can make it home before the sun comes to attack my hangover.

edit: typo

"Sounds like you've had a bit too much, lad. Ah was orderin' Caden brand wine, 'Tis the finest local Vinery, Ah even hear tell it supplies some O'th nobles in th' other kingdoms." The dwarf commented, noting the lack of proper posture, the slight slurr and the obvious judgement error.

----Brysallian kingdom----------------------------------------------------------

High Chancellor Acrillius frowned, having all his knowledge at his disposal but unable to think of the next move. Playing chess against oneself was indeed daunting, he thought as he twiddled with one of his long ears. He got up in the sole light in his study and rustled amongst the papers and books of ages long past, seeking a means to quiet his thinking mind with some reading until he thought of what to do. The kingdom was so far at peace, though his Ally, Argona, looked like it was about to go to war. He had a personal friendship with he king of that nation, but he had long since decided to stay out of the wars of humans, Keidran, Bastian and dwarves. He hoped that he would not be called upon to enter the war, though the king of Argona knew of his disposition to war. His legions of archers would respond, begrudgingly, should the card of friendship be played. Fortunately he knew that King Perillus had changed since his battle days, and wouldn't stoop to such things. He sighed heavily and looked out the window to the waterfalls, with the aid of the lanterns, that surrounded the valley, kept from engulfing the land by magics he himself had helped weave, unskilled though he was.

----Noldia------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ama Darbilla stretched, yawning, and wondered simultaneously about battle strategies with Argona's mounted forces as well as grooming her tail and what to have for breakfast. Many people had made the mistake of underestimating the 15 Standard year ruler, and all of them now lay frozen in the depths of hell for their incompetence by the magics of herself and her army. She crossed the cold marble Ballroom-sized chamber that had been devoid of decorations, such was her way. The crystal glass windows refracted the light from the lanterns outside, making for the only color in the room. She would catch the sunrise as she always did -- this she found to bring her magical energies to a peak for the day -- and set about the many busy activities of keeping the city, and the council under her, in check.

Kanturu tugged his goggles down around his neck and threw his face cloth aside, moving through the tavern as he weeved around his usual turned over stools and chairs, placing them back were they belonged as he did so.

Seeing the calm,tired faces of forgotten customers made him chuckle, nudging them to life as he went about straightning the place. This place had been in the family since he was small kit, watching his father from the stairs from which he could see everyone's laughter and histerical conversations.

Kanturu washed out the mugs and cups left around as he sat looking over this old establishment. He missed those happier times, those times of laughter and comradery(sp?) It was now as if his customers only came to drink their sorrow, thier pain, their guilt and their sin away. It was sad but not too unfamiliar.

Upon his fathers deathbed he could feel the burden of this job, Kanturu remembered many a night his father's calm voice speaking with his mother about how things were these days. The burden of keeping this place running, the struggle to maintain goods and tranquility, he also remembered those many nights his father retreated to the shop, his tears still able to be found on the shop floor.

Kanturu finished his work and strolled outside for a smoke. He still remembers when his fathers sickly voice, that voice of reassurance that Kanturu could manage things by himself.

For once in his life doubt ran throught his head upon his fathers words.

Balthasar:
At the comment about having too much to drink, I sigh and stand straighter - now leaning more like a sober person. Rather than argue the finer points of "too much", I drop the subject.

By the end of your speech I'm grinning, and boisterously proclaim, "Caden? Well then, you're damn right it's the best!"

I offer you my hand to shake. "Balthasar Caden, my father owns the Caden winery. What brings you to our humble town at this hour?"

((OOC: wait a few seconds for him to accept the handshake, if he doesn't, withdraw it))



My purse makes a conspicuously light clink as I take it out and open it. After a moment of contemplation spent staring into it, I put it away. "Barkeep, a glass of water and the time please."

The dwarf, smiling, extends his own hand and shakes that of Balthasar's.

"Ah'm actually here almost ev'ry night, Ah come here ta releive some stress from work an ta let th'children know some O me people's legends when they ask." He informed him, offering to share the pitcher that chances are Balthasar made himself.

Balthasar:
I step back to the table and take an empty glass from a sleeping friend's hand, and accept your offered wine as I sit next to you at the bar. Swirl, sniff, sip, smile, "Last year's pino?" It's only half a question. I'm fairly confident I've gotten it, but sometimes I get the years confused when we had similar weather.

"My friends and I", motioning back at the passed out crowd, "don't usually visit bars. But Michael hurt his leg riding, so we weren't up for our usual roving carousal."

"But dwarf legends? I'm afraid I'm unfamiliar with those," I take another sip of my wine, wondering if I've invited you to regale me 'till sunrise. I silently hope not.

Leaning against the wall, the early morning was the most calming to him, a time that most others rarely saw due to sleep or lack there of. The smoke escaped his nose as he closed his eyes, his foot resting also on the wall behind him. Such doubt, such uncertainty it all ate at him horribly at times, how could such a man hold it all together?

Feeling the warming wind in is fur, and the colors starting to erupt in the sky over head, he turned his mind to the Royal family, the one his family had honored and served since the very beginning. "Hmm..."

There was no regret in living here, none that he could remember, and the honor he felt by expressing his gratitude for living in such a kingdom. But all these feelings were fading. Why is it these troubled times instilled so much doubt and distaste for the situations he was in, this world he once loved.

Pushing himself off the wall he shoved his hands in his pocket and tilted his head back. "In the end, what's done is just that, and life does go on nevertheless." He muttured, a smile forming to replace his troubled attitude. He turned, throwing the cigarette on the ground and went back inside to grab a drink.

"Aye, mos'ly it's fer th' little kids, an' Ah don't beleive half of it meself, but they seem ta enjoy it." The dwarf commented, taking another sip.

Balthasar:
"I remember when dad used to tell me those stories: Loki, the progenitor cat-god who played tricks on all the other progenitor-gods. I think he was down to four lives by the time we grew out of bed-time stories."

I gaze into my wine. "I guess I'll tell the same stories to my kits, whenever I get around to having them. Those stories will go on forever."

I pause for a moment, seemingly transfixed by the redish-black of my drink, and lost in thought. "You have kids?"

The Dwarf nodded.

"Ah had, true, but... they all died in tha ol' Rivalry between Th' Harashi Empire An Noldia fifteen years ago. Ah haven't had th' heart ta fin' another woman." the dwarf said, looking into his drink.

Balthasar:
I cough awkwardly. I have only vague memories of the war from when I was a kitten.

Desperately seeking a different subject, my sleepy brain realizes the time. "Wait, kids? In a bar? At this hour?"

"They'll be in durin' th' early mornin' hours, they've a while yet to appear." The dwarf said, taking a gulp and finishing his wine.