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[AbstractTraitorHero]

Geliebte immediately drops what she's doing and does as told standing straight and orderly.

[Shadestyle]

Browfen, having had enough, takes a seat at the base of the wagon, and pretends to read his book of chemicals.

He is far too old and wise to take orders from some metal diapered brat, and it shows on his face.

[Projeck37]

"I don't believe a royal executioner has the right to order a lady of House Frostwind, only second to the royal family in power, around to do their bidding like a hound."
Freyja rubs her boot through the line, then leans against a wagon.

[AbstractTraitorHero]

"Just do it things get done a lot faster when you actually listen."

[Akroma]

Ludmilla breathes in deep. She was ordered to lead this hunt, and by god the first step of every leadership is to establish it. She slowly rode her way through the snow, Mikhails step carrying weight with every move. In front of Freyja she dismounds, and suprises with her imposing height, usualy hidden by her posture while riding. She stands up so close to Freyja, that every bit of spit from her shouts went directly into her face, as she pulled on Freyjas armor

"WHAT IS THAT?!"

((not just executioner, but retainer. While not a noble herself, she answers to the king directly))

[Projeck37]

((I'm well aware.))
"Unhand me, before I make you. Do you even KNOW who you're grappling?"
Freyja stares intensely.

[SOLDIER First]

Elidyr nods, but then Freyja's innocence is threatened, and he approaches with his own armor in tow.

"It is milady's armor. Finely made, I may add."

[Chevaleresse]

Caderyn ignores the shouting and begins setting up his own tent at his own pace.

[Akroma]

Ludmilla lets her hand off the armor, making a point of flipping the oh so very short metal skirt to give everyone a show.

"WELL CERTAINLY NOT SOMEONE WHO KNOWS JACKSHIT ABOUT ARMOR! THIS IS NOT A CASTLE. THIS IS NOT A BALLROOM. YOU ARE NOT HERE TO SEDUCE FUTURE GROOMS BY SHOWING OFF YOUR GOODS LIKE A WHORE. AND THIS..."

Ludmilla slaps Freyja right across the exposed thigh, an audible echo carrying through the valley and leaving a bright red, hand-shaped mark.

"IS NOT ARMOR. THIS IS A DRESS WORN BY THE WHORES OF SAILORS! TOMORROW YOU WILL REPORT TO DUTY DRESSED - OR NOT AT ALL!"

Ludmilla remounts Mikhail, and patrols through the ranks, adressing all of them.

"I AM CAVALRY SEARGANT LUDMILLA YENINGOROTH, YOUR OFFICER IN COMMAND BY THE ORDERS OF KING JOHANNES FALKETH, 23RD RULER OF VALKEIN, RULER OF EDO, RULER OF HAEARN, CONQUERER OF THE NORTH, DESCENDANT OF ELSBETH. IT IS MY ORDER TO TAKE COMMAND OF THE VANGUARD OF THE CONQUERING OF ESBELLERN, AS THE LEADER IN CHARGE OF ONE OF THE 20 GREAT-HUNTS TO PACIFY THE LAND FROM THE CLUTCH OF NATIVES, PAVING THE PATH FOR MANKIND. FROM NOW ON YOU WILL ONLY SPEAK WHEN SPOKEN TO AND THE FIRST AND LAST WORDS FROM YOUR FILTHY SEWERS WILL BE MA'AM! DO YOU MAGGOTS UNDERSTAND THAT?! WHEN YOU LADIES LEAVE MY TRAINING, IF YOU SURVIVE LONG ENOUGH YOU WILL BE WEAPONS. YOU WILL BE MINISTERS OF DEATH, PRAYING FOR WAR. BUT UNTIL THEN YOU ARE PUKES! YOU ARE THE LOWEST FORM OF LIFE ON EARTH. YOU ARE NOT EVEN HUMAN FUCKING BEINGS. YOU ARE NOTHING BUT  UNORGANISED GRABASTIC PIECES OF AMPHIBIAN SHIT! BECAUSE I AM HARD YOU WILL NOT LIKE ME! BUT THE MORE YOU HATE ME THE MORE YOU WILL LEARN. I AM HARD BUT I AM FAIR. THERE IS NO BIGOTRY HERE. I DO NOT MAKE A DIFFERENCE BETWEEN WOMEN, FREE MEN, SLAVES, SUB-HUMANS OR NOBLEMEN. HERE IN THE FROZEN DIRT YOU ARE ALL EQUALY WORTHLESS. AND MY ORDERS ARE TO WEED OUT ALL THE NON-HACKERS WHO DO NOT HAVE THE GEAR TO SERVE IN MY BELOVED HUNT! DO YOU MAGGOTS UNDERSTAND THAT?!"

[Chevaleresse]

Caderyn continues pointedly ignoring the shouting, save for a very deep breath.

[AbstractTraitorHero]

Geliebte bursts out laughing at the very end before trying to regain their composure.

[Akroma]

Ludmilla steps up in front of Geliebte

"WHAT IS YOUR NAME WORTHLESS MAGGOT?!"

[My Name is Immaterial]

The Naga passes it back, expecting it to be filled. "I have partaken in much sssstronger beveragessss. We Naga are inheritly ressssisssstant to drunkennesssssss."

"Give it time... I've never brew'd anyth'n that won't knock anyone on their ass." Brother Robert fills the Naga's mug as quickly as they can drink from it. Interally, he gives the Naga five drinks before they start feeling it.

Tiel watches the drunk match bemusedly.
He too, sits down at the table, and takes a cautious sip of the beverage.
"People...enjoy this?"

Brother Robert makes a rude gesture in the direction of Tiel.

Niamh, having been worried about having to clonk someone upside the head with her staff should things get to that sort of point, stops shaking and sits down on a crate with a thump.

"Come, lass, a bit of beer'll calm those n'rves."

Niamh refuses the alcohol, should she be offered any.

"Nah? Eh, yer missing out."

[Various flirty stuff]

Brother Robert is cracking up, almost rolling on the floor in spasms of laughter.

A powerful voice bellows from the front of the convoy, carrying far through the valley.
"ATTTEEEEEENTION! HALT!"

"SUNSET IS APPROACHING IN AN HOUR! I WANT THE CAMP SET UP COMPLETELY IN 30. 2 PEOPLE PER TENT, EVERY THIRD GATHERS FIREWOOD. I KNOW YOU MAGGOTS DON'T KNOW HOW TO HANDLE MORE THAN 3 INCHES, BUT THE WEATHER IN THE VALLEY IS ROUGHER THAN YOUR FATHER WHEN HE WENT IN DRY ON YOU, SO YOU DON'T SINK THE SPIKES INTO THE GROUND JUST 3 INCHES, YOU WILL DO 6 INCHES. AND PROTECT YOU GOD IF ANY TENTS ARE LOST TO A STORM!"

Ludmilla stops at Syrgan for a moment, her eyes torn white open. She then returns to her patrole through the ranks, drawing a line through the snow with her lance.
"EVERY MAN STEP TO THE LINE! DROP WHAT YOU ARE DOING AND STEP TO ATTENTION!"
She was even louder than before...how is that even possible...was she not already shouting?

Brother Robert ignores the woman, and relaxes in the wagon, finishing off another mug.

Ludmilla lets her hand off the armor, making a point of flipping the oh so very short metal skirt to give everyone a show.
"WELL CERTAINLY NOT SOMEONE WHO KNOWS JACKSHIT ABOUT ARMOR! THIS IS NOT A CASTLE. THIS IS NOT A BALLROOM. YOU ARE NOT HERE TO SEDUCE FUTURE GROOMS BY SHOWING OFF YOUR GOODS LIKE A WHORE. AND THIS..."
Ludmilla slaps Freyja right across the exposed thigh, an audible echo carrying through the valley and leaving a bright red, hand-shaped mark.
"IS NOT ARMOR. THIS IS A DRESS WORN BY THE WHORES OF SAILORS! TOMORROW YOU WILL REPORT TO DUTY DRESSED - OR NOT AT ALL!"
Ludmilla remounts Mikhail, and patrols through the ranks, adressing all of them.
"I AM CAVALRY SEARGANT LUDMILLA YENINGOROTH, YOUR OFFICER IN COMMAND BY THE ORDERS OF KING JOHANNES FALKETH, 23RD RULER OF VALKEIN, RULER OF EDO, RULER OF HAEARN, CONQUERER OF THE NORTH, DESCENDANT OF ELSBETH. IT IS MY ORDER TO TAKE COMMAND OF THE VANGUARD OF THE CONQUERING OF ESBELLERN, AS THE LEADER IN CHARGE OF ONE OF THE 20 GREAT-HUNTS TO PACIFY THE LAND FROM THE CLUTCH OF NATIVES, PAVING THE PATH FOR MANKIND. FROM NOW ON YOU WILL ONLY SPEAK WHEN SPOKEN TO AND THE FIRST AND LAST WORDS FROM YOUR FILTHY SEWERS WILL BE MA'AM! DO YOU MAGGOTS UNDERSTAND THAT?! WHEN YOU LADIES LEAVE MY TRAINING, IF YOU SURVIVE LONG ENOUGH YOU WILL BE WEAPONS. YOU WILL BE MINISTERS OF DEATH, PRAYING FOR WAR. BUT UNTIL THEN YOU ARE PUKES! YOU ARE THE LOWEST FORM OF LIFE ON EARTH. YOU ARE NOT EVEN HUMAN FUCKING BEINGS. YOU ARE NOTHING BUT  UNORGANISED GRABASTIC PIECES OF AMPHIBIAN SHIT! BECAUSE I AM HARD YOU WILL NOT LIKE ME! BUT THE MORE YOU HATE ME THE MORE YOU WILL LEARN. I AM HARD BUT I AM FAIR. THERE IS NO BIGOTRY HERE. I DO NOT MAKE A DIFFERENCE BETWEEN WOMEN, FREE MEN, SLAVES, SUB-HUMANS OR NOBLEMEN. HERE IN THE FROZEN DIRT YOU ARE ALL EQUALY WORTHLESS. AND MY ORDERS ARE TO WEED OUT ALL THE NON-HACKERS WHO DO NOT HAVE THE GEAR TO SERVE IN MY BELOVED HUNT! DO YOU MAGGOTS UNDERSTAND THAT?!"

In lieu of a verbal response, Brother Robert relaxes just the right muscles, and let's a massive one rip.
FFFFFFFFFFRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT
The fart is loud enough to be uncomfortably loud even for anyone standing at the edges of the camp.

[AbstractTraitorHero]

Finally regaining composure and trying to wipe a stupid smile off her face.
"Geliebte meaning beloved one if I'm correct I'm a holy Knight. "

[Sanure]

Syrgan, for his worth, continues rubbing the bridge of his nose while looking disappointed.