BattleMaster Community
BattleMaster => Roleplaying => Topic started by: Renodin on September 30, 2013, 11:05:24 AM
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Hey there,
In this thread I will try to post the Roleplays I've written with Aldrakar Renodin. For some I've been rewarded with RP medals, other Trust but that aside (and I am proud to have received them). I think it would be fun to share what this game has brought me and those I've been able to share with.
The RP's I've written were inspired by the people my character has interacted with and I view them in part a testimony and thanks to their contributions to this great game we all play.
I can't post all of the RP's as some are already lost due to the 30 day expiration date but I'll try to post the Fun one's here. Educational, inspirational, historic value and just for fun.
Feel free to comment on them, add your own RP's that regard Aldrakar Renodin or discuss various writing styles.
Thanks for the fun game everyone.
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A battle with several nobles against a horde of monsters. The RP was written and shared after the battle, I've asked the people've included if it was alright what I had their characters do and invited them to alter what they disliked. So far people have always been happy and agreed.
Iron Rain
The lines shuffled and the officers of each contingent of soldiers barked orders as they dressed the lines. Pushing men bodily into their positions. Swordsmen stood next to javelineers and next to them stood again more swordsmen. The right flank was made up of warriors dressed in steel mesh armours covering their bodies like skin topped with slender but immaculately constructed helms. Strong recurve bows in hand with hip-quivers opened. Small round shields of fine steel quality on their back and sabers still sheathed.
Lord Amyclas made up the left flank with his Argonauts, strong men ready to hold the line. Next to them stood Aldrakar with his shieldguard. Again shoulder to shoulder with Lord Ezra's javelineers like they had in battles before. The right flank was dominated by the elite soldiers of Lord Saul.
Behind this wall of makeshift infantry stood Marshal Sholan with his Nigh Arrows brigade. He commanded the second line. Next to his men stood Lady Lucini's marksmen with splendid light wood longbows. A curious and small mob of peasants with pitchforks and sickles huddled near the archers, they were spend but still fueled with anger.
From the broken plain before the Lurian warhost a large herd of monsters had gathered and with gurgling sounds and screeches they tried to instill fear in the Lurian warriors. Their scissored claws hefted into the air and their canines a bright, ivory white in the morning light.
The metallic links churned together as Aldrakar looked back at Marshal Sholan. Their eyes met and that single look confirmed the battle-plan they had devised the evening before. Aldrakar turned his attention back to his men and the oncoming enemy. The beasts had started to move. They came on slowly but every step of theirs was 5 of any normal man or woman. Thick and heavy hides of smudged browns, dark, near black eyes and curved upward turned horns protruding from their skulls.
Aldrakar unsheathed his broadsword and let the flames that leapt from the blade be a beacon for his men. ''Lets bring fire and steel to their hearts!'' He tried to make it sound confident and somewhat cocky and didn't do all that bad if you could believe the few chuckles and grins from his men.
Marshal Sholan had different idea's though and his voice rang clear as he issued the order to open fire. Air dragged away and tugged at hairs and shreds of fabric as the missiles flew over the heads of the infantry. Cloud after cloud of arrows and javelins sailed through the air and arched down onto the lumbering monsters. Sequels, shrieks and guttural roars exploded from their ranks as the missiles found their marks.
An arrow dove into bestial flesh, puncturing the skin, ripping through the muscle and severing sinew until it ultimately shattered the bone it found deep inside the meat. Pieces of said bone expunged from the monster's flesh. A javelin was seen caving a skull in, the sound both wet and crunchy. The spectacle was bloody and almost pitiful. The monsters had no chance at all. They never even managed to travel half the distance to the infantry line before they were decimated. Only a handful of stragglers managed to break away and run for cover.
After the aerial slaughter the infantry wall eased up a bit. Tension released through outlets of breath, sighs and some laughter. Aldrakar put his sword back into its sheath and turned about to face the archery line. His eyes once more locked with Marshal Sholan's and they exchanged nods. At times gestures speak volumes and this was one of those gestures, their plan had worked.
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This following RP was written with some back story to it. Aldrakar had gathered several Unique items and one of them, an Accesory knows as Dazzling Oil was the most prestigious one he had. Lady Lucini Talratheon had been quite kind to Aldrakar before and helped him out several times. This sparked him to offer her a gift.
Lady Lucini and the Dazzling gift
After the battle of the morning against the herd of monsters the Lurian warhost resumed its other duties. Some officers took men to work on repairing roads. Others set to improving wooden bridges over streams and rock-faces. More than a few groups set out to patrol the main-roads for bandits or malpractices. Whatever they were going to do, it had something to do with restoring Girich to working order. The D'harans had destroyed much.
Having refreshed himself in his tent Aldrakar had gone over several ways of how he could best present his gift to Lady Lucini. He had even forces a body servant to pretend to be Lady Lucini and together they had played out several mock encounters. The servant was extremely hesitant and awkward at first but soon grew comfortable and demanding or even mean! He started to like it even and got more and more into his role until Aldrakar growled at him and dispelled the illusion.
The field tend that served as his dwelling was ill suited to regal preparations and at some point, about an hour later give or take, Aldrakar gave in to this fact. He was now dressed in his practical splint-mail armour and his rich brown cape that he had acquired when he was made lord of Aveston. It was embroidered with dark yellow thread of which an intricate border was made. He wore no jewelry other than the seal ring that marked him as an Earl. His blond half-long hair tied back with a black piece of leather in a liberal ponytail, hairs falling left and right of his face.
''Right best just get it over with.'' Aldrakar muttered to himself as he took the gift in hand. It was an exquisite vial which contained one of the most dazzling oils he had ever encountered. Not that he had encountered that many at all to be honest so that made it at least thrice as special, at least in his eyes.
Lady Lucini had participated in the battle this morning, snow hadn't started to fall yet then. It did now though, a gentle covering of the white temporal stuff now lay on the earth. It still quickly melted though as the ground was not frozen yet and the warmth of late summer banished the flakes rapidly, a battle it would ultimately loose though.
Stepping out of his tend Aldrakar made for the current residence of Lady Lucini. His gift was wrapped in the fur of a red lynx, the 2 remaining claws so arranged as to hold the gift wrapped like a simple seal.
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Part 2 of the RP continued by Aldrakar. Sadly I am missing one of Lucini's RP's its gone already I think. In it she described her tent, the inside, outside and preparing for Aldrakar's arrival.
Lady Lucini and the Dazzling gift prt 2.
Crunching the light sprinkling of snow under foot Aldrakar walked up to Lady Lucini's grand tent, a pavilion really. It easy dominated the entire encampment in its splendor. Feeling the early winter chill nibble on his skin Aldrakar rubbed his left cheek as he neared the tent, balancing the red lynx fur wrapped gift in the other hand.
Before him he saw 2 guards in gilded golden armor draped with very fine capes. Both of them were broad of build and exuded confidence. A huff of snow twirled past the three of them as Aldrakar joined them at the tent's entrance. ''Greetings Marshal.'' One of the guards said in a heavy timbre that bespoke of years of service in the army. Both guards sharp as eagles in their observance but hid it well with their casual stance. ''Just a moment my Lord, Lady Lucini will see you soon.'' Aldrakar was informed by one of the guards.
Accepting the fact he took a few steps away from the tent and stared around him at the camp. His radiant blue eyes taking in the little details of the military camp. He made a mental note of the few things that didn't please him. Like the lazy gate guard on the east gate, the lingering main lane patrol and a handful of tents not erected in neatly enough lines. Little things perhaps but every little bit mattered in battle and thus in the military protocol.
Aldrakar was reminded of the weather as his body gave an involuntary shiver. It caused some of the snow that had collected on his shoulders to fall down in a miniature waterfall of snow. One of the two guards at the Grand tent chuckled. ''It's only going to get worse M'lord.'' He spoke the words with a smile and Aldrakar accepted them with a smile in turn. A man dressed in the same kind of Gold Gilded armor emerged from the tent but his armor was more adorned than that of the 2 guards. They in turn straighten up and stood in rapt attention. The aged soldier spoke briefly before he continued on his way. ''Lady Lucini will receive you now Marshal Aldrakar.''
The imposing man had even caused Aldrakar to stand a little bit taller, his face had taken on a serious note and his prior thoughts entirely banished. The wind wasn't impressed at all though and still insidiously tugged with her cold hands at Aldrakar's unbridled blond hairs, the majority still trapped in the pony-tail.
The two guards opened the tent flap to Aldrakar and he with a confident stride moved through it, entering Lady Lucini's tent. The semi gloom of the outside a stark contrast to the interior he suddenly found himself in. The warm embrace of mild air enveloped him instantly and the light of the numerous torches cast their playful light over him, making his splint-mail armor a reflection of flames and grey.
His gaze not wandering long as Aldrakar saw Lady Lucini in her Jet black robes standing before a finely carved desk of dark wood, mahogany perhaps, the thought skirted through his mind for a moment. It took a short while before Aldrakar had taken in the entirety of the person that was Lady Lucini. The dominating color being black in her attire as well as her hair had played a small optical trick on his eyes in the confines of the grand tent but he saw her clearly now. Her stature was fairly small but then again it didn't cross Aldrakar's mind that she was petite. Women were supposed to be physically smaller than men he believed. This woman before him stood a fair bit shorter than him but he hardly noticed for her emerald eyes defied any belittlement and drew away all attention from her height.
Aldrakar gave a small inclination with his head towards Lucini as he knocked some of the fresh snow of his boots before entering the tent any further, all the while balancing the red lynx fur wrapped gift. Feeling satisfied that he won't stain the nice rugs inside the tent too much with his boots Aldrakar took a moment to look around the tent before returning his gaze to Lucini. ''Lady Lucini, even far away from the city you manage to bring excellence of both taste and comfort wherever you go.'' Taking 2 steps towards her he used the brief time it afforded to look her in the eye and try to read what kind of person he was dealing with. Unable to learn much he continued when he was closer to her. ''My name is Aldrakar Renodin, your Marshal and grateful fellow noble of the realm. We have sadly never extensively met in person but our letters are many.''
Taking a moment to allow a smile to curve his lips Aldrakar's blue eyes looked at the tapestries and without his desire perhaps some amazement crossed his features. ''I have only seen their equal in the ducal palace in Askileon, when the Grand Duke of Fissoa visited us last spring.. was it?'' A brief quizzical look he gave Lucini. ''Today I hope to give you a small token of appreciation that will have a hard time to rival the quality of your tapestries. It is neither as large and neither does it catch such visual attention but perhaps a lady as yourself may find it a pleasing gift still.''
As he said the words Aldrakar took a few more steps towards Lady Lucini, not quickly and neither in a straight line entirely. At one turn he even had to brush aside a recalcitrant strand of blond hair that conspired to obscure his vision but was swept aside by a gloved hand. Standing about a meager arm's length away Aldrakar gave a small smile as he offer Lucini the red lynx fur wrapped gift with both hands. Inside the animal hide wrapping a relatively small vial rested. It was quite exquisite in design and made of a rare crystal substance. Inside it was the true gift however, an oil of Dazzling quality and effect.
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An RP written by Lucini Talratheon.
Meeting the Marshal
Lucini wrung her hands nervously though she'd hoped that people would never know the truth of her nervousness, it wasn't exactly a secret but still it felt like an embarrassing factoid. When Aldrakar finally entered she stopped wringing her hands and smoothed out her dress and robes he seemed to look the very part of soldier, warrior and noble. Rugged, he looked tough his eyes told several stories and she smiled softly and looked down to the floor a moment before looking back up to him. She waited for him to approach further and smiled when he mentioned her living conditions, "Thank you Marshal Aldrakar, I find it's easier to work when I feel I'm at home. so I bring everything from home I value." She admitted, she stepped forward as he did to close in the distance between them.
A short giggle, escaped her before she cleared her throat in the realization before trying to regain her composure. "I mean I.. don't be Marshal sad that is, not grateful. What I mean to say is.. I don't actually meet many other noblemen or women. I'm more of the ... voice behind the quill of sorts." It might have actually shown now in person, the timid and nervous Lady who was Lucini. Of course she hated it, she sometimes wished she had the social and verbal constitution to be like Priestess Himoura or the Late Empress Arundel at least in front of other noblemen. To commoners it was easy, child's play, they were beneath her and not noble peers. "Yes I've enjoyed our correspondences Marshal Aldrakar, you are quite the commander from what I read and hear."
Her eyes followed his when he looked to the various tapestries and still she continued to smile seemingly to have a perpetual joke in her own mind that somehow kept her happy. He nodded slowly, "Yes I believe you are correct, I was in Vaal at the time attempting to quell the civilian uprisings there, it was rather fortunate in a jesting way because there was a situation where the taxation accounts of the land had been overly miscounted by nearly forty... never mind. But please I do not mind, I rarely get gifts." she said the last with a slight amount of excitement and exclamation, those who spoke to her in person would easily not the different when speaking to her in person. Though such was likely the same with many people, at least in her own understanding.
Her face lit up slightly and her smiled changed from being slightly to brightly and she reached out with both hands to gently collect it from him, in her hands she turned and moved towards her desk placing it down as his dainty and ink stained fingers slowly began to unwrap the red lynx fur revealing the vial inside. She still held that smile as he turned and looked to him and bowing her head, "Thank you very much Al.... Marshal Aldrakar it is a very generous and kind gift you've imparted upon me." She sighed and slowly shook her head, "Apologies I didn't mean to offend you, I should have known better." She quickly wanted to correct her self and her words lest he got offended.
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The continuation from Aldrakar's perspective.
Lady Lucini and the Dazzling gift prt 3
Hearing the soft voice coming from Lucini that occasionally pitched and seemed dotted with short giggles and intermingled with quickly stolen glances caused Aldrakar to make a somewhat dumb face. He was more than a little dumbstruck would be the proper term. ''Ermm, not at all.'' He quickly offered her as she started to apologize for her slight misstep in protocol. In all truth it lifted the burden of formality even further off his shoulders.
Taking in the expression of Lucini as she unwrapped the gift had made him feel rather happy and glad the he finally found a good use for the dazzling oil. ''I'm told it was found among some ancient treasure, I don't know if that's really true but even if it isn't its a treasure in itself.'' Dimples created small dents in his cheeks as he smiled at her. "I had imagined a very different person standing before me, Lady, Lucini.'' Aldrakar obviously separated the title and the name with a pause, trying to gauge if she wanted to discard one and keep the other.
Giving Lucini a moment to ponder her response Aldrakar turned about halfway and admired the tapestry once again but this time only in mock exercise though. Using the time himself to remove his dark brown leather gloves, the warmth of the torches and the well insulated tent urging him to seek relieve from the intruding heat that his well padded armor all retained. He tucked and hung them from his belt.
Noticing Lucini may become a bit nervous again Aldrakar couldn't suppress a chuckle and he let it out uninhibited. ''Apologies.'' Quickly followed his chuckle as he gestured towards her with his hand as if offering the word as a token. ''Fear not my presence Lucini. If anything I should be the one afraid! I came with a gift without knowing if it would be appreciated or a type of gift appreciated by you.'' His radiant blue eyes now blatantly staring at her for a while. Making an elaborate shrug with his shoulders and arms he continued. ''I am glad you seem to like the gift though, perhaps I should've added something gold colored though. You seem to like that color.'' He motioned towards the armor stand that held Lady Lucini's battle gear.
''I am a far more simple man.'' Aldrakar said as his thoughts turned to self-reflection and his tone lost some of its merit. His eyes returning in an attempt to meet hers. ''Both for lack of riches and desire to spend the wealth I do possess on lavishness.'' He tapped the practical splint-mail cuirass. It was a linked and riveted chest armor of carefully arranged metal plates and strips joined with chain-mail and heavy padded and boiled leather. ''Perhaps I could learn a lot from you in in terms of finer living.'' A smile curled his lips into a half moon once more as he turn around and looked around the tent once more. ''Finer than most manors I've visited.''
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The continuation from Lucini Talratheon's perspective.
She smiled slightly and nodded to him, "I understand the notion, I don't get visits from my peers often. Most of my communications are done through letters or messengers, the last time I actually seen one of my peers was when Luria was ruled under the reign of King Fulco D'Este and it was himself whom I saw. What I mean is people have seen me but never actually spoken to me or visited me personally. I suppose Marshal Aldrakar, I'm not actually all that interesting ... just the seemingly elusive Imperial Conciliator. though in part I actually envy you, you get to see battle and combat and have traveled the seas." She smiled again slightly as she slowly turned to the side and wrapped the vial back up to keep it from accidentally falling out with a single hand.
She reached to her face and moved a few strands of the silky black hair from her visage, before turning to him, "Please Marshal Aldrakar we are alone, please call me Lucini. Unlike my more posh styled brothers I've never well been terribly good at their definition of being a noble I never sought the glory of combat, nor the intrigue of politics I found my joy in procedure and .. num..sorry, I can be a bit talkative at times." Had she the complexion to bluff she might have easily done so in the moment, but instead her paled yet youth features only remarked upon the slight smile she embraced.
She smiled and relaxed a bit as he chuckled and offered apologies, it made her feel a lot more at ease, it was always unnerving trying to walk on egg shells around nobles who felt to get offended at the simplest of mistakes of terminology or title. She laughed now as he expressed a degree of fear from her, he looked into his eyes with her own and slowly shook her head. "Marshal Aldrakar I assure you, I'm hardly worthy of being feared... despite what D'Harans and that assassin from Morek says of me." She looked about at the comment of gold and scoffed very softly. "No Marshal Aldrakar your gift is very appreciated and more importantly an extension of your gratitude the gold is .. it's mostly gifts from the Imperial Palace and various merchant clans seeking favor into Giask. The tent, the armor I simply use what I am given. It is rather nice in fact to be given a gift that is more meaningful than material."
She looked to him now and listened, smiling and remain quiet following his hands as it tapped the front of his armor her eyes having looked into his the entire moment. Until of course he looked about the tent and she her self looked around, it might have been hard to believe she never actually paid much attention to her own lifestyle had anyone asked her she would say it was humble but of course to others it was opulent. She was occasionally reminded of her own degree of wealth in moments such as these. She bit a small portion of her bottom lip in thought before looking back to her guest. "Simplicity is often underestimated, it is in the simple one can find truth easier than the complex or intricate. And if the war goes as planned all Lurians will prosper enough to see the rewards we've so labored for, reaped. Especially her Marshals and her warriors. Admittedly I feel guilty at times, as my peers sail off for battle and I'm travelling region to region handling the business of courts, trials, administrating the optimal efficiency for regional production."
She raised a hand to her forehead a moment in almost embarrassment, "Oh my I must apologize sincerely, I've been a terrible host would you desire ale, wine... tea? or spirits I hear it's a bit stronger than most drinks. I also have bread, pastries and several lambs upon spits being prepared to boost the morale of the men. The Winter can nag at them at times such as these I find a warm and meaty meal is often the ticket required to keep them in high spirits. That was enough for her to do in terms of hospitality and distract her from the fact that she was rambling on.
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The continuation from Aldrakar's perspective again.
Lady Lucini and the Dazzling gift prt 4
Standing about, listening to Lucini speak of herself, the perceptions that other have of her and see her grow in confidence did Aldrakar good. He couldn't help looking down at his boots as a small trail of muddy boot-prints lay behind him. He arched his eyebrows as he turned his gaze back to Lucini in apology. ''Sorry about that.'' The weather outside made its presence be known once again as the cloth and leather walls of the tent deigned to the suggestion of the wind outside.
A spark appeared to his eyes as his lips formed into half grin half smirk. ''I guess the tent agreed to your suggestion! I would welcome some warm wine and no soldier would say no to fresh roasted lamb.'' Feeling quite reassured that formality was out of the window his fingers started to unlace some of the cords holding his neck-guard in place. The rugged and metal scaled leather releasing his neck from its stubborn embrace.
The cuirass didn't leave for much -breathing- room though, no matter how much you loosened the straps or cords or ties. It would suffice though Aldrakar thought. ''Your are quite dedicated to your profession I must admit. Wish I could say the same but I take no joy in taking life. That doesn't mean I take my duties as Marshal serious though.''Aldrakar tried to make light of the mention of death by raising his voice a bit and offering a large and white toothed smile. Why did I have to mention death! he thought to himself. A hand rose towards his head and his fingers vanished under his topaz colored hair as he scratched his head.
Only just realizing Lucini had held his gaze for an extend period of time he straightened up and tried to move away from the current subject and breach into a new one. He brought his hand up a bit and pretended to point something out in the distance as he mock squinted his eyes at Lucini. ''Are those a gift from your mother's side or your father? I cannot say I've ever seen anyone with green eyes like that before.''
Abusing the opportunity perhaps but Aldrakar used it to frame those eyes and her face with the black long hair and took a moment to appreciate what he was seeing. He broke away as another thought bore down on his mind. What was her age anyway? her small frame and petite features made her look younger but he had no idea honesty. Not to add that her presumed nervousness and shyness only augmented that concept.
Aldrakar's face turned more neutral as he recalled the food that was offered and looked about for a place to sit down or something. The opulent room did not disappoint naturally and he followed his hostesses guidance in the matter.
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The continuation from Lucini Talratheon's perspective once more.
Lucini noted the muddy boot prints and with a slight wave of her hand quickly dismissed it, it was after all only mud. "Worry not Marshal Aldrakar, it'll wash out I'm sure.." Seeing the expression change she nodded and looked to the entry way, "Emily." she called out softly as a young maiden looking to be just slightly old enough to be married off entered and bowed her head before curtsying to them both, before looking to Lucini. "Yes, MiLady Lucini?" Lucini didn't mince words with the young girl and simply gave concise command. "Fetch a few wine glasses and a keg of warm wine, and check on the lamb." The young girl stood only a few seconds longer to be sure her Lady was finished before turning and leaving the tent quickly.
Lucini chuckled at Aldrakar and nodded slightly, "Yes I agree, the most difficult part of it was finding lambs that hadn't been stolen or butchered by the D'Harans. But I was able to procure them at a cost, about two dozen heads of lambs, it should be more than enough to fill the men's bellies." She gestured to the side where there sat several chairs and and a small table for entertaining guests. She paused a moment turning to him slightly at the mention of taking life her smile fading slightly as she seemed to think for a moment.
"I agree, taking a life never feels good but it is also a necessary component." She left out the mention of her executing several men earlier that week but of course those were criminal who were in chains when they were beheaded, not men on the field of battle who could fight back. When he squinted and pointed naturally she turned around looking back at the small cases of books and scrolls and the tapestries. "Those my mother and fath..oh" She felt the immediate and quite comical sting of embarrassment as she realize he was talking about her eyes rather than some object behind her, she chuckled and collected her self.
"These are a gift of my father, my mother may her soul rest was blue eyed. Many of my features I can give thanks to my father." She sighed near the end still wishing she had been some pretty, buxom, blonde maiden rather then the pale, petite and black haired scroll worm. The few redeeming qualities of her features was the fact she was often mistaken for being in her early twenties, based on her behavior and temperament more youthful than most assumed. She moved almost as if she were gliding to the chairs and couch choosing to sit in the chair as the maiden soon entered carrying a large silver tray.
Upon the tray was a large matching silver pitcher and silver and glass goblets, Lucini sat and smiled to Aldrakar as the wine was poured into the goblets and set out from them. And upon a separate plated was bread and steaming lamb chops seemingly fresh from the fire, the wine it self would taste spiced with honey and cinnamon and warmed enough to drink comfortably without worry of burning your tongue. Lucini reached forward and lifting her goblet as she swirled the wine abit almost as if she were inspecting it before looking to Aldrakar. "To the Empire, Marshal Aldrakar."
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The dinner continues!
Lady Lucini and the Dazzling gift prt 5
Seeing Emily the maid-servant bring in the tray of steaming lamb roast and accompanying that the the spiced wine he needed no more prompting to conquer a seat at the table. A small groan further fueled his resolved as he sat down with a little bit too much speed. The metal of his armor making a nice crunching sound as the links of metal met and churned against one another. With unintended flourish, a practiced move from horseback-riding Aldrakar drapped the rich brown cape over the back of the chair making it nearly vanish under it.
Finally sitting at the table Aldrakar took a deep breath of the fumes that came from the tentalizing dish before them. To the Empire, Marshal Aldrakar. He suddenly heard Lucini say and he grinned back at Lucini as he took the other of the two glass goblets in hand and raised it in toast. ''To you and the delicious food! The Empire will still be here when we are done eating.'' The words came easily to him and his attention nearly equally divided between the food and Lucini, slightly more to Lucini though.
The goblet soon found its way towards Aldrakar's lips and hearty ''mhmmm.'' the noise following his first sip. ''This is excellent wine.. actually this must've been one of the best wine's I've tasted.'' He inclined his head slightly as he had to admit surprise to himself. He really liked this wine, the cinnamon spicing was superb.
The maid-servant, Emily had quietly moved up to the table to distribute food to their plates, her hands reached for the utensils when Aldrakar spoke up. His own hand touching Emily's briefly as he stopped her from taking the utensils. ''Allow me.'' Emily glanced at Lucini for a brief moment but didn't press the matter as Aldrakar took the utensils and took one of the tastier looking, if that was even applicable, lamb pieces. ''Your plate please, Lucini.'' After which he placed the food on her dish and then proceeded to fill his own. He might have overindulged as his plate looked kinda full.
Before taking a bite he looked up at Lucini. ''Enjoy your meal.'' Again the words came as if spoken to an old friend, perhaps because he was distracted by the food or he was getting more comfortable in Lucini's presence. After having consumed several pieces of delicious meat he put down his knife and took up the goblet once more. Sipping from it slowly he got a questioning look on his face ''Why am I dining with the realm's Imperial Conciliator in near full battle gear?'' He chuckled and observed the crimson wine in the goblet for a moment. ''Not that I am being ungrateful Lucini, I really like your company and the its beautiful here. And not just because there is a gold gilded armour over there.'' With the goblet he motioned in the direction of the armour stand making the liquid slosh a bit.
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The Dinner, gift giving RP kinda stranded there. Both participants kinda agreed OOC that the meeting was at an end with a positive conclusion. Friendly terms. At the time other things were happening ingame and also OOC that demanded time away from the RP and we solved it this way. A clasic maneuver I imagine hehe.
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The Inn at the Crossroad Guild. This is one of the RP's I've written when Aldrakar was still recovering from a battle wound.
Winters pull and cold Wine
Stepping through the double door of one of the -Crossroad- establishments Aldrakar moved with a slight limp or was he just a bit slow on his feet perhaps. Having just entered the building he looked about himself a moment trying to assess the crowd inside and finding a place to sit. As is usually the case with people that stand about in a crowded place his presence became a bit awkward and some people looked up at him from their drinks and conversations.
Becoming self aware of this fact Aldrakar gave a curt nod as he began to lowly make his way to an empty table ringed with several large and comfy chairs. Coincidentally this table was arranged near a fireplace that at this time sported a gently crackling fire, embers dancing from one side to the other as they competed for firewood.
Gently depositing himself in one of the chairs that flanked the fireplace a small frown on his forehead belied of the pain he felt as his right leg bumped just a little bit too hard on the ground. ''Damn monsters and their claws!'' Aldrakar cursed through his teeth. Before he could ever entirely seat himself comfortably in the chair one of the inn's servants had reached him already. ''What may I do ye for?'' She said with a large smile. ''That must hurt!'' She blurted out as he perceived Aldrakar's discomfort.
Rolling his eyes and still in a slightly awkward sitting position Aldrakar replied. ''Yes, it does..'' Looking up at the girl he continued. ''Some Dwevian wine from Mattan Dews please, and a stool. I need it for my leg.'' He pointed at his right leg. The serving girl nodded exaggeratedly. ''Coming right up, wine and a stool!'' She quickly turned about and sped away towards the bar.
Rearranging himself a bit Aldrakar found a position amenable enough and wondered why a small cut could hurt so bloody much. -Infection!- an impish little voice whispered to him from inside his head. Aldrakar dismissed it quickly thought, he had it washed and stitched right after the battle. It wasn't infected, Pha! or was it?.. He wasn't sure anymore and the doubt must've shown on his face as the serving girl returned. ''One local Lurian Wine and a stool!'' She placed the goblet of wine on the table and helped Aldrakar with the stool. Carefully placing his right booted foot on the stool and distracting him from the pain with another of her bright smiles. ''All fine!''
With the early winter chills borne on the wind outside it was going to be a cold night, Aldrakar had no intention of leaving the Inn early and already looked forward to his second cup of wine as he tasted from the first. It was cold, damn he should've asked for a warm and spiced cup of wine.
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One of the other members of the Guild took on the role of NPC! Very refreshing and was new to me. Astridicus was the Player character that wrote it, an advy.
The inn had its normal assortment of patrons; merchants, noblemen, commoners, and even a sage. When Aldrakar requested his second glass it came quick enough for him to realize that the bar maid had been watching him, her eyes dreaming wishfully.
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Inn at the Crossroad Continued.
The Cold together with the Warm
Once Aldrakar had settled into the large and comfortable chair with his right leg supported on a stool it became clear that the inn was more crowded than he initially had thought. A cheerful murmur droned through the establishment, a chuckle here and the occasional laugh there. Some men off in a corner were rolling bone dice and each pretended they were not nervous as silver coins changed hands as often as the cat under their table swiped at the tatters of their trousers.
A welcoming warmth emanated from the fireplace close to Aldrakar, just to the left of him. It was a large stone and mortar construction that sported enough space to spit-roast a small pig, not that it was used for that purpose currently though. No, its flames were unbridled and engulfed the entirety of the hearth. Sipping the cool wine Aldrakar enjoy the radiance of the flames on his face. ''Here you go..'' A soft voice spoke to him.
Aldrakar looked up from his seat and saw that same serving maid. His recognition must've shown as the girl's face shifted from slight unease to offering an awkward smile as she handed Aldrakar a new goblet of wine. This one felt warm to his touch and the aroma promised it to be rich in spices, proper mulled wine. ''On the house!'' The serving maid said cheerfully.
Both eyebrows raised Aldrakar nodded at her a couple of time. ''Thanks.'' The serving maid beamed shortly before she noticed the bartender motioning for her and darted off again. Aldrakar let out a small sigh as he now held a goblet of wine in either hand, both resting on the armrests of the large pinewood chair. ''I suppose I better get to it.'' Aldrakar said to himself with a hint of humor, he shook his head.
Preferring the mulled and warm wine he placed the other, cold goblet on the table in front of him. The feat was simple enough but he couldn't manage to keep a small line from creasing his forehead as the small-ish but inflamed cut on his leg protested to the movement. Enjoying the wine Aldrakar let his eyes roam the room trying to spy out interesting figures or make eye contact with anyone that looked like a good conversational partner.
The weather outside demanded a moment of everyone's time as the wind howled outside. The night was starting to truly set in and drove off the natural light of day. The shutters were being closed by the Inn personnel and the entrances were swept clean from most of the muck and melting snow that had been brought in by newcomers. It was a well oiled machine this inn but Aldrakar hardly noticed it, he was looking for people to have a chat with.
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Another member of the Inn at the Crossroad took this opportunity to add some background music'' in a sense. Adding colour to the picture. I much liked it. Written by Justus Jaron
"Monty!" Justus commanded his head servant, "put up notices in the local inns that Exarch Justus of Corsanctum is looking for someone to fix his unique items, also put in that there will be another job if the first one goes well and tell them to meet me in Mimer" Monty hurried off quickly preparing the notice for his liege.
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An RP where you should keep in mind that the realm Aldrakar is part of is at war. He is in a border region and has been stationairy there for a while now. Food supplies are running low, morale of the men isn't the best. Ohh and the name is special as well to a certain someone in the game hehe.
Dent Hill in Girich
Sitting on a simple stool placed on a lazy rise that bore the name of Dent Hill. Aldrakar had a nice view of the surrounding of the military camp he had been in for some time now. For as long as he'd been in Girich actually. Since it was retaken from the invading D'haran forces a while back.
The morning air was chilled, it promised rain possibly. Rain could also mean snow or hail or anything in between really. Winter was a strange thing this far south of the world. The camp looked much better though. As with everything, if you keep at it, it becomes better. Staying in a military encampment for a while makes that camp more organized, the rows of tents more straight, the pathways hardened and the earthwork defenses more elaborate.
A patrol of men trampled through the half frozen sludge outside the pallisade as they made their daily rounds. Their gear was visibly worn. Scratched, dented but still polished as best they could. Their armor was still functional but it just needed repairs. Aldrakar let out a small sigh. His eyes picked up another tell tale sign of disrepair, well not so much repair but replenishment maybe.
The cook's tent, one of the favorite spots in the camp according to many of the soldiers, saw long lines of men waiting for their rations. Wooden cups in hand, shuffling feet and looking over the shoulder of the man in front of them to gauge the time it would take before the heavy laddle would fill their cup.
Rations was the correct term, food was running out. The men didn't much know of the situation in the realm but they damn well knew the situation of their bellies. Rations were being cut in size on a daily basis. They hadn't complained yet but that wouldn't be far off now though.
A servant brought a bowl of stew, rabbit stew and handed it to Aldrakar who took it with a thankful expression that he shared with the servant. Looking down at the bowl of stew Aldrakar halted the servant with his voice. ''Wait a moment. Whatever remained of the stew, give it to the men. If there are any more rabbits that were caught, do the same.'' Aldrakar motioned towards the men waiting in line with a spoonful of rabbit stew before putting it into his mouth.
There was no sign of the enemy in Girich, word reached them the other day that the surrounding regions were being abandoned by their respective realms. Both the Desert and the Axewilds were wastelands now, more than they were before at least. Aldrakar pondered his position as Imperial Marshal. The letters were send, the reports received and the strategies in place. He still hated waiting though. A fluttering butterfly of a memory passed his thoughts though as a recollection of Lucini came and went but left a smile on his face.
So the days crawled by for the men and nobles in Girich, counting days, food and damages.
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A standalone RP where I tried to make Adrakar face and become more aware of the Food problems that seem to be everywhere across the continent.
Traps along the Road
Feeling the equine surge under him brought a fierce grin to his face. The beast emanated power, desire for speed and its hooves eagerly dug into the soil for traction. Clumps of dirt took flight behind them as beast and man powered over the chilled plains. A pair of pristine white rabbits looked on as Aldrakar rode his chestnut brown horse, they disliked the rumbling earth but were powerless to stop it.
Reins in hand and with the cold, almost biting winter winds on his face Aldrakar spied out a small brook that defied winter's grasp with its fast flowing rapids. It didn't look that wide, a few boulders lay on it's bed like they were tossed about by a careless giant. Aldrakar felt confident. Putting on a stern face he began the mental calculations and moreso preparation as he steered his mount towards the brook.
Steam was discarded in their wake as the both rider and beast were warm from exertion. Hooves braced themselves and momentum propelled them into the air. With outstretched legs the horse reached for the other side of the brook and Aldrakar knew a moment of awe, of dread, and they were over.
Standing on the far side of the brook Aldrakar halted his mount and made it turn about. He took in the sight of the brook once more, this time with more respect but also a suppressed feeling of conquest. His eye fell on something strange though and long before he discerned what it was he was looking at he knew its purpose.
A fishtrap. Turning his face to look up and down the brook he noticed several of them. Poaching.. this area is off limits for hunters. Aldrakar frowned and knew a moment of uncertainty as his thoughts warred with one another inside his head.
''They need the food, its only a few traps.. its winter time..'' Aldrakar quietly surmised for himself. As he nodded his ascent to himself, or the horse, who knows. Aldrakar brought the horse back into motion but this time for the way back. A long, meandering journey that saw little excitement but granted time for further contemplation.
Back at his roadside camp the soldiers were warmed up again, had eaten their fill of lunch and were getting a little bit too cheerful. Time to resume the march. Glancing back in the general direction of the brook with the fishtraps Aldrakar took the lead position in the column. They continued their travel to Garuck Udor and ultimately Girich, to deal with the monsters.
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Here I tried a different style of writing. It is about an Adventurer selling an unique item to Aldrakar. I try to make each such a meeting memorable with an RP. It deserves a bigger reward than just some gold in my opinion.
A fleeting moment
A brief exchange was had in the fields of Garuck Udor. Like the seeds of grass that defy the cold of ending winter and try to burst through the hard soil to reach for the sun. Like those seeds, so did a woman clad in a cloak of the Royal Rangers to a blond haired man on a chestnut brown horse.
The woman was petite in build and skittish like a doe, a fox would be a better description for she wove her way through the lines of men armed with swords. With the pre-dawn mists yet to be burned away by a rising sun in the east the woman almost like a ghost, made her way towards the mounted man.
He saw her coming towards him but only because of the surprised words of ''Hey!'' and ''Who goes there!'' from his soldiers. A beautiful young face stared up at the noble on horseback, his posture clearly indicating that he was surprised. Was it because of her beauty or because of why she came to him?
Their hands met as she reached up and he reached down. Gloved hands exchanging something other than a simple greeting. The cold wind made its presence know and with it its displeasure. Commoner and noble shouldn't linger in one another's presence and with that, their meeting was at an end.
As if instructed by the mighty wind herself, the soldiers separated the young Royal Ranger from their Liege and saw her on her way. The Liege however looked down at what he held in his hand, the gift that he was brought by the cloaked lady of the Rangers. A feather unlike any other, one that would astound even the most traveled of people. For in his hand, he now held, the Astonishing Feather.
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Below you will find one of my attempts to make something fun out of a chance meeting. Two nobles find themselves traveling through the same region and instead of maybe sending a letter I tried something else.
A messenger!
A rider approached the column of soldiers carrying the banner of the Lady of Girich. The man himself wore the Livery of the Lord of Aveston.
In neat order he rode up towards a respectable distance from the Lady of Girich, Sybilla Kildare. Once he arrived there he dismounted and proffered a proper bow in her general direction. Not taking too long to begin his address he spoke his words clearly and with an air of confidence.
''His Lordship the Imperial Marshal Aldrakar Renodin of Aveston offers you his kind regards in greeting and wishes you safe passage through Garuck Udor.'' The rider paused a moment as he tried to gauge the reaction of Lady Sybilla. ''May I take a message back to his Lordship, My Lady?''
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A battle between D'hara and Luria Nova in Moonbay, the D'harans landed with a force and were defeated by a small margin. I wrote this as both a means of a message and for fun.
At the end of battle
Recovering from the battle and with blood matting his hair thighly to his scalt Aldrakar leaned against one of the small grass covered mounts that shielded him from sight. The scene he hid from was the field of the death. Many corpses lay intermingled as they belonged to both D'hara and Luria alike. The plain upon which they lay now sported currents of blood, jagged ridges of kicked up earth and shallow graves of the fallen.
Catching his breath Aldrakar looked about him and found the survivors of his company. It truely were survivors for they had to retreat from the seeking arrows of the enemy. Some of the soldiers looked more like images from nightmares. Drenched in blood, covered in gore and riddled in cuts and scraps. Not to mention the lingering arrows that had bit deeply into shields or armor.
Aldrakar pushed away the curtain of blood soaked hair from his eyes with a mailed hand and begun to crawl to the top of the mount. His blond hair now more coppery or even brown but that only lended him more camouflage if anything. He gulped in a large chunk of air before he called out across the battlefield. ''D'harans!...'' His voice was loud and he was used to commanding men in battle but still it shook.
Swallowing hard Aldrakar continued. ''Many men died today. You fought well.'' He looked back at his men who in turn stared up at their commander. He moist his lips. ''You action was valiant, you tried to take the fight to your enemy. You do honor to yourselves.'' He clutched his heater shield and brought it close to his face as he still lay against the dirt. Crawling to the top of the hill he used the shield to protect his body and heaved himself up to a semi upright position.
The wind had not changed it demeanour and remained vengeful as it now started tugging at Aldrakar's hair and dark brown cloak. ''I am Aldrakar Renodin and offer you the curtesy of valor. Leave now and we shall not push you into the sea come dawn. Stay.. and join the fallen and know we will remember your shades as warriors.'' With these last words Aldrakar remained upright for a few heartbeats before he slumped back down the mount and behind the safety of cover.
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Here is the reply to that last RP about after battle exchanges.
Roleplay from Ismail Tandaros
Ismail sat silently by the water as his captain went through a roll call. The losses were heavy, but Ismail indicated no sense of loss. The sacrifice was just, and indeed it was long overdue to issue D'Haran warships to the lands of his foes.
Up on the bluff overlooking Moon Bay, Ismail heard Aldrakar roar out his salutation. He looked around to his men, thinking deeply, when a courier brought orders stamped by the Island Guard. He stood up and walked past a stand of trees, and barked back over no mans land,
"Well fought, Lord Aldrakar. Let us honor this, the Battle of Moon Bay, as hallowed grounds of glory for both sides. We shall sail home forthwith, and ask for the honors of battle - we will need the night to gather our dead for burial in D'Hara."
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Following the Battle in Moon Bay I decided to write a bit about the potential aftermath of the battle. It could be true for any battle though and I think it brings the other side of war into perspective. Enjoy!
The Hard Road
A small train of men and simple carts slowly made their way through the wasteland of Moon Bay. The days were growing warmer and the landscape ever more lush as rain-clouds changed their shift with the bright sun turn and turn again.
The fields were full of dandelions, fresh herbs and the scurrying of small animals. The roads as they were in Moon Bay were little more than dirt paths or flat, submerged in mud, stones. Moss and plants ever trying to reclaim the feeble trails. Aldrakar had since washed himself of the blood that had drenched him in the battle the other day. The cuts delivered to his livery and cloak couldn't be washed out though, their memory remained.
Butterflies landed on the multitude of bright flowers strange and mostly unique to the badlands, even in this wasteland flowers and life endured. Sadly the same couldn't be said for wheat, grain or rye. Rye was one of the hardiest of crops but even that couldn't flourish here. A muffled scream startled the butterflies and with their richly decorated wings they quickly fled the train of wounded soldiers that passed by.
''How bad is it?'' Aldrakar asked the thin man caring for one of the soldiers who lay on a cart. The answer was already known to him for the bandages were already and again drenched in blood. It was the 4th time this morning Aldrakar visited this particular soldier and healer. ''The bleeding won't stop sire.'' The small man replied as he offered an apologetic look to Aldrakar. ''The sword must've hit something inside his body that I cannot reach or mend with my simple tools.'' He lifted the soaked bandage to reveal a crimson line that separated as pressure was relieved from it. A gush of blood escaped the wound that wholly didn't seem to come from the surface of the cut.
The soldier cried out again, his muscles taut and the veins on his neck bulbous as they rested on his skin. His body was covered in sweat and color had long forsaken him. He was a pale grey man with blue lips and red eyes, probably from crying. ''Sire.'' the voice of Aldrakar's aged sergeant greeted him. It was both formal and yet demanding attention.
The sergeant had been a longtime companion of Aldrakar and his heavily lined face with its assembly of little scars showed signs of compassion as he and Aldrakar locked eyes. ''He won't make it Aldrakar, he is going through hell right now.'' the Sergeant paused a moment to let his words sink in. ''Better to grant him mercy and be done with it.''
The thin healer made to protest but Aldrakar raised a hand to silence him and it worked. ''I'll do it.'' Nodding to the Sergeant he instructed the men pulling the cart to slow down and park it at the side of the road. A few ravens crowed curiously as they spied out the change in the train of soldiers. They quickly gathered nearby the now stationary cart and turned their eyes greedily towards the struggling patient. Some still in the air but most had already landed.
Aldrakar motioned for the Sergeant to help him and together they lifted the mortally wounded soldier from the cart and carried him to a small outcrop of young grass where they gently put him down. ''Hmmmwwff!!... Wmhmmm!'' The soldier whined and groaned. His head lolling to the left and to the right, occasionally his eyes flashing open but always quickly shut again. ''Hold him upright please.'' Aldrakar asked the Sergeant who silently complied and ensured the wounded soldier sat on the ground but with a straight back. Dark blood amply escaping the poorly bandaged wound and glistering in the spring sun.
Unsheathing his sword Aldrakar whispered a few reverent words as he positioned himself behind the delirious soldier and raised his sword with both hands, the point aimed at the soft spot of flesh between neck and shoulder. ''You lived bravely, continue your legacy in the afterlife!'' A wet and smooth sound accompanied the descending steel of the sword as it plunged into the soldier's flesh. It punctured skin, sliced through muscle and pierced vital organs until the soldier released his tenuous grip on life and with his last breath escaped his mortal coils.
As the train of soldiers slowly moved onward several of the soldiers along with Aldrakar and the sergeant dug a shallow grave for the now dead brother in arms and said their goodbye's. War had claimed another life and tore apart another family.
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I found an RP that I had saved on my PC before I ever send it out to people. It is about a battle between nobles and monsters in a rural province. We were stationed there and suddenly with the change of the turn monsters walked into our region hehe.
The Horde
Morning mist blanketed the gentle grasslands of the Dews, the locals referred to the land with that name. It was officially know as Mattan Dews but that name was hardly ever used by its inhabitants. The fog carried with it the moist of the previous evening and deposited it on every blade of grass it passed. With the first rays of sun illuminating the world the fields and flowing hills glistered like a thousand-thousand little pearls.
A weary guard stretched his arms as he yawned, the motion returning some feeling to his arms. He had been holding his shield on his arm for the better part of an hour now. The sun's slow rise on the horizon playing tricks on the guard's eyes. Something was moving over there. He squinted his eyes and peered out over into the distance. His breathing stopped for a moment, his eyes widened ''F...'' The single word softly uttered. ''Alarm! Monsters Incoming!'' He bellowed.
From the fresh dawn a small legion of monsters charged the campsite. Hulking forms of thick furred and sharp clawed abominations. They stood over one and a half man tall and the only thing more terrible then their appearance were the long shadows they cast. The shades mingled and blanketed everything in the early rays of dawn like vengeful sprites. The forward few of the monsters bearing horrific and gleeful expression upon their features, warm flesh lay ahead and their howls spread that news to their comrades.
The alarm call from the guard rippled through the camp of Aldrakar and men burst out of their tents ready to stand toe to toe with any foe. More than a few ''D'harans?!'' could be heard. Men wearing parts of their armor, carrying shields, swords and short fighting spears. Some just stood there in their linen shirts and breeches brandishing knifes. True soldiers each still though and even in partial gear they responded to the call to arms. A grizzled sergeant was one of the most decked out people around and he was rallying the troops into formation. As much formation as could be had though, this was soon becoming chaos.
Several of Lord Rafaello's riders mounted up and prepared a flanking charge and rode off with their long cavalry swords raised above their heads. Aldrakar was stopped at his tent's entrance by his faithful body servant who quite insistently and efficiently dressed him in leather armor which was usually used as padding for the heavier splint-mail he usually wore. Aldrakar's battle lust sank a bit as he realized the wisdom of his servant. Life before glory, the men are trained for this, let them do their job. He should reward the servant after the battle he decided.
Lord Ezra could be heard issuing orders to his own men. They were perhaps the first to respond to the danger in any meaningful way. Before ever Aldrakars men clashed with the hulking monsters did his men rain death upon the beasts of the dark. Javelins arched up into the sky and flew over the camp's defenses before they shredded the charging beasts. Howls of pain, rage and anger cut the morning quiet and threw the world into a plane of war and bloodshed. With the terrible dawn as witness the Monsters crashed through the defenses, skewering several of their number but more than not it did nothing. They smashed through and ripped the stakes out of the ground with ease.
Aldrakar felt his pulse quicken at the sight of the strength of the beasts and felt the icy hand of fear grab hold of his spine. Soft whispers from the shadows told him that death would be waiting for him on the other side. He shook his head and pulled himself free of his body servant. A glance sealed his intend and the servant let go of his lord. Striding towards the sergeant who was already directing a group to fend off the beasts the fingers of his right hand gripped the handle of his broadsword. The gift of Ranger Azerax. In a smooth and fluid motion Aldrakar unsheathed the blade. Small and bright flames erupted from the blade as the sword exposed it to the outside world.
Taking up position with his men Aldrakar stood in the front ranks with his men and glanced left and right exchanging nods and looks with his men. Lord Ezra's voice could be heard booming over the screams of the wounded, the roar of the monsters and the tearing of tents. ''Loose!'' A moment became a minute and then anguish, a wave of monsters recoiled from the sharp javelins that rooted them in place or grazed their flesh. ''Lord Aldrakar go now!'' Ezra shouted. Almost involuntarily his men and himself started to move. Slowly at first but as soon as they realized their feet were moving they let out a roar of defiance and charged like madmen.
Some short way away the riders of Lord Rafaello broke through a second wave of oncoming monsters. They smashed through and cleanly beheaded 2 of them before they rode on to reform themselves.
The swordsmen of Aldrakar crunched together with the lumbering monsters in among the ravaged tents and dancing shadows. Javelins flew left and right and that was not the only things that flew about. Hands, arms, legs, heads and even entire men were tossed into the air. Their limbs torn from their bodies, cries of despair filled the air as courage was exchanged for anger and discipline for rage.
The flames licked away from Aldrakar's broadsword and hacked into the beasts flesh with a sizzling sound. The arch of yellow flame clearly marking his presence on the battlefield. That made it twice as strange when suddenly the flaming sword vanished in the middle of 3 monsters who had charged him. A collective rush of men, steel and vigor rallied on Aldrakar's location. Grunting and with a frenzy his men slashed and chopped their way to their lord. Lord Ezra moved his men closer in turn and continued the barrage. He himself seen launching a javelin into the tick of the fighting and taking a monster square in the left eye.
2 men drenched in blood and with wild looks burst out from the fighting dragging the kicking form of Aldrakar. His hair and face red as if dipped in liquid strawberry marmalade. His hand still gripping his broadsword. ''I'm fine! Let me go!'' the young Marshal kept repeating over and over. His men too loyal, too concerned and too absorbed in the battle-frenzy to pay him enough heed.
Depositing Aldrakar near Lord Ezra's line they charged back into the fight, howling for blood. Aldrakar got himself up after 2 attempts and discovered he had a nasty gash on his right thigh. He tried his weight on his right leg and it held but it hurt like fire. Snarling he made his way back to the fight but halfway he realized the fight was over. The monsters where retreating.
Blood and grime dripping off his armor Aldrakar looked about and saw the ruin that was the camp, the tired and ragged lines of Lord Ezra's men and his own men, over one third slain, another third wounded and the remaining exhausted.
With his radiant blue eyes he spied out Lord Ezra and held up his hand in gratitude and nodded into his direction. The remaining day was spend tending to the wounded. Cleaning the bodies out of the camp and restoring the camp to functionality. The monsters would be back, they all knew it and it drove them to work harder. Aldrakar's eye caught the form of his faithful body servant and made a mental note to gift the man a gold coin at supper as he noticed the tattered state of his leather armor.
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Another old RP dug up from a long'' lost word file! After being camped in one region for quite some time I reckoned it'd be good to write an RP about how a temporary camp grows and grows until its starting to become a more permanent settlement.
''Fort'' Gorthauth
It's been some time now since Aldrakar had set up camp in Thar Gortauth. The flimsy entrenchment and palisade had eventually been deepened out, grew in number and the palisade now enclosed the entire tent encampment more than twice. Several earth work defences had been erected with wooden stakes pointing outwards and the watchtowers had been properly fortified. The place started to look like a real fortified position. The dunes it was placed in made it look even more rugged and it definitely looked daunting to storm, uphill and through the trenches and spikes.
The camp not only grew more robust it also grew in size. Local people had of course made use of the opportunity to sell goods to the soldiers and frequently travelled from their farms, hamlets or villages to the camp with small carts of goods, heavy backpacks or basic sledges drawn by themselves or large dogs. Some soldiers had taken to providing for some camp followers but Aldrakar had been reluctant to allow it and as a result the camp followers were few in number.
Two areas just beyond the defences were arranged as training fields. One smaller where men could train with weights, logs really. Hold small practise duels and other things like it. The other was larger and was used for formation drills and mock battles. There was another training field but it wasn't much of a field. It was the beach itself. Perfect for long marches, rushing into the surf and practising repelling small craft borrowed from local fishermen and getting the men used to having salt slapped into their eyes by vicious ocean winds.
A proper wooden structure had risen in the center of the camp. It was made of rough logs but was a real building at least and no longer a tent dwelling. There was little space in it but it still held decent furniture, the same that would otherwise have graced his field tend. Aldrakar had been a prisoner for the last day or so in the small wooden building as he was writing letters like a true monastic priest. Stretching his arms and chest Aldrakar leaned back on his chair ''Ggrrrhmmmm.. was that the last of them?'' Aldrakar asked an 18 year old squire with confident dark brown eyes. ''There is just the one left from the mayor or Sulorta habor. He is worried at the low food stores of the village he says.'' The Squire reached the parchment containing the letter to Aldrakar who in turn took it and pretty much let it drop down onto the desk where it would.
He puffed out some air as he glanced over the letter from the Mayor and shook his head. ''You write the letter.'' Aldrakar looked at the squire. ''Make it sound like we are handling the situation and that he has little to worry about. Mind your wording and don't waste precious parchment.'' The last Aldrkar said while pointing a letter opener at the Squire pretending it was a sword. ''I'll be outside if you need me.'' With that Aldrakar rose from his seat and walked out of the stuffy room and into the spring winds that brought him much relief.
As he looked around himself he saw some soldiers bartering with a red faced merchant over some wineskins to his left. The soldiers obviously trying to haggle down the price but the merchant would have none of it. On the other side he saw several men digging new latrines, one of them he recognized as a frequent trouble maker. A good fighter but stubborn as a mule. Dumb as well probably, he'll learn eventually Aldrakar though.
He walked over to the training field just outside the camp and was greeted by the men he passed. The gate guards saluted properly and he smiled at them. ''As you were.'' Arriving at the training field he was greeted by the booming voice of his sergeant ''You are all worthless !@#$s! Each and every one of you! If I had the prime choice of squid, jellyfish and shrimps instead of you boneless turds I would feel more confident about repelling the invaders than with any of you! At least they would disgust them too much to get near them!'' It was well known by now that the sergeant disliked sea foods almost as much as he disliked half hearted soldiers at training. Some of the men couldn't help grinning as they heard the sergeant shout his lungs out at them for they knew they did well and in crisp manner.
But as is the folly of any man or woman with a coach or trainer, as soon as they notice you showing contempt or that you could do more but don't they ruthlessly punish you. It was no different for Aldrakar's men, they were brutally punished for their cockiness and toiled under the direction of an unforgiving training all day. Their only shred of pride was that their Liege, Aldrakar, joined them in the training. The young man himself too proud to not participate. He was in fit condition and as many young men couldn't pass up the opportunity to show that he too could do what others could do. It was a long day with little mercy, respite or kindness but the bonds of men and brothers grew if not at the cost of some bruises and litres of sweat.
The little people of Thar Gortauth cheered them on whenever they saw them for every day that Aldrakar and his men were around, more money they would earn.
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Hey hey! that Word File I mentioned before? It held more old RP's hehe. This one is about Aldrakar still being in Thar Gortauth. In this RP you may read about how Aldrakar progresses in being a warrior. In some even older RP's he often got beat in fights.
A day in Fort Thar Gortauth
Scanning the pages of parchment for any new information Aldrakar rubbed his forehead with his hand, his fingers following the frown lines that had taken up residence there. Eyes roaming from left to right some air escaped his mouth as he let out a small sight. A sound drew his eyes away from the scroll and towards the door of the small wooden structure. It had been constructed some time ago at the center of his fortified camp that now slowly started to resemble a small hamlet or village perhaps even. The walls of the timber building still looked crude but the floor was made of straight wooden planks now instead of dirt and it looked more decent by the day.
The sergeant passed through the doorway. He was dressed in a leather jerkin and sturdy leather trousers and wore heavy boots rimmed with black weasel fur. The man looked wizened, heavy lines all across his face both from years of worry and of merit. His hair was recently trimmed and quite short but that fact couldn't hide the grey in it. Despite older age the sergeant's body was powerful and taut with years of hard toil and training. Aldrakar tried to imagine himself at the age of the sergeant and saw a skeletal figure of himself that he desperately tried to alter into a Zeus like image but the blend failed horribly. Suddenly his respect for the sergeant rose considerably and he let his hand fall away from his forehead and let it rest on the desk he sat at as he awaited the sergeant's words.
A few deft strides and the sergeant stood in front of the desk and without much ceremony deposited 2 training swords made of good wood but nicked in many place nonetheless. ''It's time'' He said with far too much foreboding than Aldrakar cared to detect. Completely in character the sergeant turned around briskly and departed the wooden house. Pushing himself away from the desk Aldrakar got up and checked the straps of his leather amour. He'd worn it for the last few days and hadn't bothered to wear full armour as there had been no sign of enemy activity at all. His hand grasping the two wooden swords he also made his way outside. His fingers familiar around the hilts of both the practice weapons, they had been daily companions, much to the delight of his men who liked to watch their commander fight.
Walking into the light of mid morning Aldrakar had to squint his eyes as they adjusted to the rays of bright sunlight. In his moment of near blindness he was greeted with several ''Morning Lord. Commander. I'll be rooting for you Lord. He's out boys get the others!'' and more such words. As his eyes got used to the light Aldrakar was faced with a new problem. His dark blond hair had grown since he had stationed his men in Thar Gortauth and now it conspired to beleaguer him and fall into his eyes. He jerked his head to the side a few times in an attempt to shake the hair out of his face and was moderately successful at it. Several men chuckled softly as they saw the young Marshal walk towards the practice fields.
Along the way there Aldrakar loosened up his muscles by swinging both swords around in a series of practiced swings, trusts and chops. He earned a small train of little children who mimicked him as with wooden sticks and branches. Where did they come from again? The thought struck Aldrakar as he realized over 5 boys were following him. He heard a woman shout out to one of the boys to come back and gather firewood, apparently his name was Billy. Damn the camp really had grown. A large collection of tents and mud huts had sprung up around the fringes of the military camp and many people were fishing, hunting and brokering deals with merchandise they had brought with them. He would have to inform the Lord of Thar Gortauth when he left to keep a garrison here when he left.
Striding down to the beach where the soldiers preferred to do their morning training Aldrakar was first met with the fresh and slightly chilled ocean breeze, he welcomed it with a broad smile. Next he heard the clunk and thonk of wood on wood, there were soldiers already training with wooden weapons. As usual there were onlookers in the form of camp followers, women that the soldiers had taken as temporary wives. Peddlers of foodstuffs, maybe just a handful but still they were there to make a quick sale to a thirsty soldier.
His boots sinking in the soft sand Aldrakar walked up to the sergeant who stood waiting on his Liege. Next to him were 2 men quite familiar to Aldrakar by now. A tall, bald and grinning soldier stripped down in just leather under-armour much like Aldrakar himself. The other was a powerfully build but stocky man with a thick mat of dark brown hair and a well trimmed beard. They greeted their Liege quite informally and the sergeant just looked impatient. Aldrakar stuck the two swords in the sand and prepared himself for a sparring bout with the two men. He rolled his growing muscles and stretching his limbs. When he felt content with the warmth that was coursing through his body he picked up one of the wooden shields shaped as a heater shield that was laying nearby. All practice weapons were quite worn but serviceable, these shields were no different.
''Are you ready my Liege?'' The words holding little courtesy, the sergeant was a professional. Once he got into the mindset of a trainer he discarded all titles and etiquette. Aldrakar had accepted it in favor of learning from a man like the sergeant. ''Yes trainer.'' The words well measured and hinted at danger as Aldrakar moved into the outlined area of the practice arena. Just a ribbon strung along several poles stuck in the sand. His hands holding the longer of the two practice swords he had brought and the heater shaped shield he had picked up. He didn't squeeze them but gripped them firmly.
The two other combatants paired up opposite of Aldrakar and glanced at one another. The Shortbeard as Aldrakar called the shorter man in his mind was the initiative taker of the two. The Tallbald, the tall and obviously bald soldier often looked for direction in his companion. They both had similar gear as Aldrakar, sword shield. They readied themselves to face Aldrakar once again. The last memorable time was back in Alskileon Purlieus, they had won back then. Many days stationed in a war camp had offered much time to train and practice though. Their conscious demeanor was not lost on Aldrakr and he opened with a lunge that he powered with a small leap towards the two opponents. He was surprised with a small roar of approval from the gathered crowd of soldiers and camp followers. He landed in the soft sand and as it sloshed over his boots he felt his sword connect with something hard and immediately folded his sword arm so that he could slam his shoulder into it as he realized it was a shield. While he made the gesture he flailed his shield towards the other opponent, it was Shortbeard.
Aldrakar barreled into TallBald and he had to give ground. A heavy grunt told Aldrakar he had hurt the other man but not enough for him to cede more ground.
ShortBread only needed a moment to recover and dashed in to aid his companion. They were slightly too late though in their counter as Aldrakar had already positioned his wooden sword pointed downwards towards the ankle of TallBald and had it slightly behind it. With a mighty heave Aldrakar forced the sword from left to the right and up in a backhanded motion and roared with all he was worth. Sand sprayed up and in an arch away from Aldrakar, over TallBald and the bystanders. TallBald's feet rose up in the air and he fell backwards onto the sand. The crowd was silent as they watched intently. Aldrakar felt pain shoot trough his left arm as his ears were greeted with Thump and Thonk after Thonk. He smelled sawdust. A wild Shortbeard was hacking at his shield and managed to land 2 fouled blows onto his shoulder.
Fending off Shortbeard Aldrakar crouched slightly as he drew Shortbeard closer to himself and had a hard time deflecting all the incoming attacks and nearly lost his footing as Shortbeard thrust his shield out to Aldrakar. When he thought Shortbeard was close enough Aldrakar shot up and to full high, as erect as he could. The move surprised Shortbeard and made him realize he was way too close and was now forced into a struggle of strength and less so of skill. Aldrkar descended upon the shorter man like a wave from the ocean and used both shield and sword to return the barrage of blows. He couldn't help the fierce grin that appeared onto his face as he drank in the troubled expressed of Shortbeard. The pain in his shoulder already forgotten until the next morning would come knocking on his door.
The crowd gave a hushed ''Ohh!'' which made Aldrakar dance aside and narrowly dodged the sword of Tallbald that now cut the air. He licked his sword at full length swinging over the chop of TallBald and felt it connect with something. He hadn't had time to see what it was as Shortbeard had rushed into the space TallBald had created for him. Sweat ran down the sides of his face as Aldrakar grumbled inside, he didn't want to give them the initiative but he had too. Doing his best to fend of the jabs of Shortbeard and aimed swings of TallBald. Pain bloomed on his shin where Shortbeard bashed him with the butt of his shield and he narrowly moved his face out of the way of the tip of Tallbald's sword.
Tallbald made another well aimed and timed swipe with his sword and Aldrakar just barely caught it with his own sword. It was then that Shortbeard made a reckless half leap, half chop at Aldrakar. A vision of defeat rushed through Aldrakar's mind and he saw their faces grinning and himself sitting on the sand in defeat. The word No rang in his ears and soon he Roared it at them ''NOOOOO!'' bending a knee to the sand he scooped Shortbeard up in midair with his shield. He face pelted by several splinters shorn off the surface of the shield. In a fluid motion and with the momentum of Shortbeard Aldrakar tossed him over his shoulder. As if Shortbeard surfed on the shield and the ocean suddenly decided that the wave no longer existed.
TallBald stood with a fouled swing of his sword that he was trying to recover from. The word No greeting him as he saw his companion take the air, vanishing out of sight. In his place the vision of Aldrakar filled his world. He tried to move out of the way and create some distance to use his superior reach. Aldrakar seemed to have expected it as he thrust forwards with his sword and caught Tallbald on his chest, knocking air out of his lungs and rooting the man in place. Aldrakar swung his right leg into the air and tried to deliver a sideway kick to TallBald. He in turn tried to gulp down a mouthful of air and attempted to raise his shield in response. Speed was not his strong part today. Aldrakar's boot hit in squarely in the side and made him buckle over and anguish was painted all over his face. Having his shield in position again Aldrakar left no time unspent and slammed it into Tallbald's neatly presented face with all of his might and the ensuing sound was akin to a ripe melon being smashed against the rocks, a wet splash. Blood fountained behind the shield and droplets shot up and to the sides of the shields that sprayed onto Aldrakar.
Not yet satisfied Aldrakar brought his sword to bear and with an overhead chop he smashed the wooden blade of the sword onto Tallbald crumbling form. He struck him on his back and knocked the man flat. Registering the effect Aldrakar jump around to face Shortbeard but saw that the man was cradling his arm as he was still lying in the sand.
The rest of the world returned to his senses as he heard the cheers of the crowd. Soldiers and camp followers akin shouted his name, cheered the victory and were well entertained. Aldrakar felt a surge of victory that made him stand more erect and an unbidden glance at the sergeant revealed a small smile of approval. He quickly tore his attention away from the sergeant and went to Shortbeard and Tallbald ''Are you ok?'' He asked the ancient and retarded question, of course their weren’t! They just took a beating. Aldrakar tried his best to help them on their feet though and many men joined in. The healers would have a busy day today again.
Practice makes perfect but never forget luck and morale.
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I wasn't done yet dumping Old RP's onto this thread. With this RP you will read about a new hobby Aldrakar developed. It was inspired by fellow players and one I never had imagined for my character hehe.
Gardens
Since he returned from Shinnen several letters had reached him, some pertaining duty, some were from friends and a handful on a more personal note. As Aldrakar sat at a desk placed outside in the manorial gardens overlooking the town of Aveston his mind wandered back to the letters of Lady Sibylla. Casting a glance to the left of the desk to where the chests with plant seeds stood an idea started to form.
''Scribe, bring large sheets of parchment and charcoal pens, feather quils, ink and measuring sticks. Be quick about it man!'' His tone more cheerful than the words would suggest. The scribe hurried off towards the Manor to fetch the items requested by his lord.
Pushing aside several large stands of dark blond hair from his face in an attempt to thwart the wind's endless game of obscuring his vision he looked out over the town trying to picture where he would place it. He loved the seaside wind on his face and preferred his hair loose at times like this but it wasn't always practical. Can't be practical all the time Aldrakar supposed.
Aveston town was rebuilding at rapid speed, after the foundation works done by the former Duke, Malus Solari the region was really shaping up. It would take a long time still before it was fully restored but all signs were green and good to go. Shipyard, harbour, market it was going to be a busy town that’s for sure. Aldrakar wondered as he looked at the slums, shacks and open spaces in and around the growing town.
He had considered creating a park with the gift from Lady Sibylla but that was too public. Fineries can't really be appreciated by commoners. A garden then, small, secluded and easily maintained. The thought didn't sit well with him. It wasn't ambitious enough. It wouldn't do for an Earl and Marshal of the realm. Thick frown-lines formed onto his face that made him look older, perhaps wiser and slightly constipated.
A shuffle of feet and utensils being placed or dropped onto the desk tore him away from his thinking. ''As you requested M'lord.'' The scribe said in a properly formal tone and Aldrakar dismissed him with a mildly appreciative smile and nod of his head. Quick to gather up the items he would use first he set charcoal pen to parchment and started to draw out crude lines that were to represent Aveston town. His eyes darting up towards the town itself to ensure he was at least somewhat accurate in his drawings.
While creating this his eye fell onto a space near the noble quarters of the town. Nearly bordering his own manor and if that space would be enlarged with one of the plots currently designated for the manor of a minor noble it would be just about large enough. He pushed aside the charcoal drawing and quickly penned down the reclaiming order on a different piece of parchment to be handed to his secretary to work out.
Finishing the order for his secretary the thought popped into his mind. Botanical garden. That’s what it would become, a large and exotic garden full of fragrant flowers beds, unique trees in splendid formations and rare bushes sculpted into living statues. A wolfish grin conquered his lips and with a fury he set to drawing, sketching and planning the Botanical garden that he would create in the noble district of Aveston Town. The gift of plant seeds from Lady Sibylla would be put to good use indeed.
And as if by chance or fate, Aldrakar fell into the pit of a new hobby it seems, gardening. Who would've thought..
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The old Word file keeps giving. The following RP I wrote in the aftermath of a battle. A border skirmish is perhaps a better way of putting it though. There were about 9 or so nobles involved, both sides counted.
Arrows and Stitches
The flame licked and leaped over the long and curved metal needle. A hue of red appeared and faded away again as the needle was taken out of the flame by the bald and wrinkled man. He deposited the flaming branch he had used back into the fire again and walked over to where Aldrakar sat on a stool. Producing a piece of wood from his apron the old healer proffered it to Aldrakar. It once served as a piece of a sword handle but it more than sufficed in it's new capacity. ''Put this in your mouth and bite on it.'' The old healer instructed Aldrakar.
Looking from the piece of wood to the healer's hand with the needle Aldrakar gulped and did as he was told. Before putting it in his mouth he noticed several bite marks on the wood probably from previous patients. A fleeting thought skirted the edges of his mind as he questioned the proficiency of the healer. The sharp pain in his upper leg dislodged any musings from his mind as his jaw clenched firmly onto the wood.
The old healer's tongue was slightly protruding from his mouth as he tugged on the string to pull the two pieces of flesh of Aldrakar's leg together, absorbed in his craft. The wound wasn't as grievous as that of some of the other men but it needed stitching for a sword had found him and slashed this flesh. A D'haran blade wielded by a bow-legged bastard who struck him from the side. He hardly saw the D'haran coming and if it wasn't for the man standing next to him that pushed him out of the way the D'haran's blade would've found his gut. Sadly Aldrakar couldn't reward the soldier because in the action he was stabbed in the neck himself. Aldrakar unconsciously gripped the edges of the stool with his hands and willed his fingers to burry into the wood, the sharp pain returned at the hand of the healer.
The assault on the D'harans in Girich seemed to go well at first. They deployed in good order and with both Lord Xerias and Lord Ezra in position. They unleashed their missiles on the D'haran infantry and Aldrakar moved with the peasant militia in tow. There were arrows everywhere. There was a small rise where the D'harans had set up their own archers, so many archers. Aldrakar reflected on the melee, it was short, nasty and bloody. The peasants were shredded but not in vain. The D'haran infantry was pinned by the militia and Aldrakar's men flanked them, charged and slammed into them. Missiles from Lord Ezra caused mayhem and soon the D'haran infantry broke. Not before one of the bastards left a little gift with Aldrakar though. ''Gnnnnngghh!'' Aldrakar half grunted, half groaned. The healers needle efficient and remorseless.
With the D'haran infantry routed the hard part had come, the march up the low rise where their archers were stationed. They crowed the small hilltop with their numbers and from their ranks a never ending barrage of arrows descended upon us. First they decimated Lord Ezra's men. Screams could be heard from behind his lines Aldrakar recalls. Ezra's men were dying, he recalls calling out to his own men. ''Make them pay those filthy cowards!'' something along those lines. Grunts and soft murmurs greeted him.
Lord Xerias shined at this time as they returned fire on the D'harans on the hill and they did brilliantly. It was less glorious for Aldrakar though. The bitter memory still very fresh from just one day ago. First from a short distance they fired into our lines. Their bows were not particularly strong but there were so many arrows. Shields simple didn't catch them all. The last bit was the worse, we could practically *see* them smiling at us. They jeered us and taunted as they unleashed their final volleys. Nearly point blank, they shot straight into our lines. Many shields held but several were already damaged or broken. Arrows punched through shields, skewered arms and pierced lungs. The men ground to a halt as they tried to hide behind their shields. Shields started to be dropped as men died and all sense of formation evaporated.
They ran, it wasn't ordered it just happened. We were too slow to advance, we were sitting ducks.
''Aaaaiiigh! Careful!'' Aldrakar snapped at the old healer. He only got a weary look from the old man that all but pacified Aldrakar with its weight in experience. The old man tugged a bit harder on the string than actually needed for the final bit and tied it off neatly. ''That should do it. Now don't run around and give it lots of rest. If it doesn't inflect and ooze puss in 2 days you are fine, if it does. It's up to the Stars if you life or not.'' Wiping his hands on a dirty rag the healer continued. ''If it gets red around the edges take some Distlefoil tea.'' The last bit the healer said with an arched eyebrow and in a half-hearted tone as if it didn't really matter what Aldrakar did if it the flesh turned red around the wound. Red meant inflamed which was a prelude to the yellow puss.
So Aldrakar sat on the simple stool, camped in the mud of an hastily constructed camp in Mattan Dews. The battle of yesterday in Girich lost and with many wounded, dead left behind and vengeance of his mind.
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A naval-esque RP I wrote of Aldrakar being on a ship that arrives at a port. Its always nice to write a description for people of the image you visualize in your mind when you imagine what is happening. I much enjoyed typing this RP and hope it does justice to the ambiance that I tried to portray. Have fun!
Port Nebel and the Tomb Islands
The wind was strong again today. It filled the stark white sails of the ship and pushed the vessel ever forwards. Onwards to the Tomb Islands. Where soon more graves would be added to the already fabled name. Standing on the forecastle with a single hand grasping one of the heavy rope lines Aldrakar accepted the salty spray of the ocean on his face as Port Nebel grew and grew before his eyes.
They had been at sea for days and provisions had been running low. A storm had trapped them and had used all its might to rob their ship of rigging. The ship had endured but looked a bit worse for wear, some ropes had snapped, there had been damage when beams were torn from the masts and more such incidents. The sun shone brightly today though and under its auspicious brilliance Aldrakar's ship entered the harbor of Port Nebel.
A great host of dock workers scurried along the impressive stone works of which the docks were comprised. Huge cranes picked up loads from round bellied merchant ships and deposited it again with keen precision. Carts rattled back and fro from the warehouses and many boys were running after officials recording cargoes and delivering errands. In the backdrop rising like a godfather watching over his crowd rose the Ducal Palace. It sat majestically atop a mountain that both provided security to the city and from its heart offered up minerals to the hard working miners that vanished from sight ever so often to descend into its darkness.
Port Nebel revealed itself to be a hub of business, of life and of war. Banners where fluttering in the wind, they littered the skyline and armed men and women cluttered the streets. Aldrakar listened to the sea gulls as they cried to one another. Some of them fought over fish remains, some for hot thermals to soar upon and yet some just to be bullies. He took in the vista of the city and tried to reconcile the ideas that for the coming weeks this foreign land would become the land where he would see many lives go to waste. Warring with this concept was the urging sense of duty he felt in his heart that steadily had to make room for a growing love he felt for a woman.
The sailors on the ship started to move about even more frantically as the captain began bellowing orders. Feet skittered over the freshly scrubbed deck. Ropes sang their croaking songs as they rebelled against iron rings and mallets drummed a beat as they fastened knots and wind directed the orchestra of music. All the while Aldrakar gazed out towards the city and tried to look beyond it. Somewhere beyond the strong stone walls of the city was the enemy. The thousands of enemies that wore the crest of D'hara. He clenched the rope with his hand as the ship slowly moored.
Gangplanks were thrown into place, heavy ropes cast to the shore and a troupe of officials gathered on the dock, ready to welcome the Imperial Marshal with letters. Always more letters and reports. ''Sire, we're ready.'' The familiar voice of his trusted sergeant found its way to his ears. The man had been with him for as long as he could remember. He felt a small tug on his collar and saw the sergeant's hand as he looked down. ''Crisp and clean sir. Looking good!'' The old sergeant said with a forest of crowfeet at the corners of his eyes as he smiled at Aldrakar. ''Thanks.'' Aldrakar replied earnestly but softly. ''Lets get off this ship and get us some proper food!'' He said as he turned towards a group of his men readying to disembark.
He was met with cheers naturally, ship rations were awful at best usually. Walking up towards the gangplank the noise of the harbor assaulted him but it worked soothingly. It told him that the twilight world of the ocean was behind him and that he would step into the real world once again. Whistles, roll calls, crates breaking, donkeys balking and men shouting. Aldrakar couldn't hear his boots stepping on the gangplank as he descended it. ''Morning M'Lordship!'' An eager man wearing the garb of a scribe greeted him. ''Lord Imperial Marshal! Reports from the captains!'' A second, stern looking man clad in battle harness hailed him. ''Lord Renodin! Lord Xerias sends his regards!'' A broad shouldered warrior called out to him. A dozen more like these blurred together as Aldrakar made landfall.
Straightening his back and calmly surveying the crowd of people calling for his attention Aldrakar waited for his aides to gather around him. With a motion of his hand he indicated them ''Address them and see your words received! Sergeant! On me!'' The wind assisted him as Aldrakar pushed through the crowd that started to part as soon as he had finished his sentence. Flanked by proud and eager soldiers and with the Sergeant just behind him on his right side Aldrakar made for the war camp. The place where all the nobles had stationed their soldiers.
The trip through the city was messy. It was a harbor city, they were always crowded. Filled with goods brought in from the sea and crammed with goods from the land to be shipped out. Several times his swordsmen had to clear the way ahead. Some of the roads were simply blocked. Too many carts had tried to get through and ultimately they had crashed together, spilling their content out onto the street and creating chaos.
People looked up and stared as Aldrakar's banner was carried through the city. Not only held it the crest of Aveston but also that of the Imperial Marshal. Word of his arrival would surely spread quickly both to friend and to foe. He himself had little mind of that though. He was dealing with people. Ordering commoners out of the way, trying to get to the mustering fields and having a quite hands on approach as to how to get things done.
His rich brown cloak hugged his shoulders snugly as the city released him from its clutches and he emerged at the mustering fields. A city of tents next to a city of stone, separated by a city wall. A large tent signified his destination. Not because he needed so much space but because it was Lurian Tradition to show grandeur. His sergeant deployed his own guard around the tent and intimidate area. Aldrakar began his first watch so to speak as he settled down inside the tent at a desk and began riffling through the heap of reports that awaited him there.
Warrior of the realm but only armed with a pen it seemed.
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Hey again, an RP I wrote with a specific goal in mind. I tried to write it as a staging area for other players to hook into in a sense. I might've worded that badly but basically I wanted to try to entice them to interact. Let me know what you think.
On the frontlines
The encampments in place, the tents raised and with no signs of aggression from D'hara Aldrakar made a round of the various commanders in Qubel. In full battle gear that was still quite starved from ornaments or finery he strode past with long strides.
He inspected the troops, greeted them with nods, smiles, waves and occationally had a short chat here and there. Along the way he made a point of visiting the various nobles as he could find them and made it plain to see that he praised them and had confidence in their ability in full view of their troops.
For Xerias that would be an embrace and a chuckle, Amyclass a grin and a rough story perhaps. Whereas Sholan he would address with more formality and a bow where he could perhaps sneak in a smirk or a handshake. For Lady Sibylla he would attempt a short discussion about local fauna and a clap on the shoulder, Jorus he didn't know well so he would try to be more formal but assure him that he did well. Ormans he did much the same but he would present him as a staunch warrior to his toops and Emil..? With Emil he tried to be a bit more informal, asking him about his sea voyage and reassuring the man he would do well at the siege of the Lighthouse.
Aldrakar hoped and believed this personal attention would do morale well and might also be good for the common soldiers. Knowing that the Imperial Marshal had faith in their commanders.
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Hey again. It seems I've collected a fair few RP's for you guys. I'll post a continuation of the Roleplay between Aldrakar and Lucini. With permission of the Player of Lucini of course. Its rather lenghty and parts may not make entirely too much sense. This is because there have been quite a few letters exchanged aswell that frame some of the RP's. I hope you can still appreciate the RPs and with that in mind I'll post them here. (Don't worry I'll try to add substance by this writing!)
After a long time writing letters back and forth Lucini and Aldrakar finally professed their love for one another. The following RP is by Lucini and is in response to the letter in which Aldrakar wrote that he loved Lucini.
Written by the player of Lucini, Talratheon family.
Lucini slowly opened Aldrakar's letter with a feeling of apprehension, she read it and sighed a breath of relief and pride in her heart as she held it close and even smelled it slightly and kissed it, leaving a maroon kiss imprint of her lips before folding it neatly and scraping away his Imperial Seal and placing her own before softly blowing on it and spraying her perfume on it. She would hope the kiss, and the her scent would speak more than words she could write at the moment.
Looking to her scribe she closed the letting within a leather bound satchel and handed it off, "Be sure Imperial Marshal Renodin receives that personally.. not his scribe, not his squire but in his own hands." The scribe nodded and quickly left to give the messenger the instructions.
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The response Aldrakar gave is detailed in the following RP. It was send just after the Assault on Qubel Lighthouse If I recall correctly. Wounded and messed up Aldrakar had to get a scribe to write for him. Enjoy!
Wounded in Port Nebel
Some days ago, nearing a week actually, a messenger had arrived to Aldrakar's tent. He was quite tenacious and even cunning as he used all sorts of legal threats and general niftiness as he managed his way to privately see the Imperial Marshal, Aldrakar.
At one point the messenger even blantently threatened several attendants with a letter opener and a solemn promise that auburn and candle crimson red were made with human blood. When Lady Lucini's insignia was visible to Aldrakar however he had waves his attendants away and even the guards. He had received her letter.. his letter? his letter she had returned to him with the maroon imprint of his kiss on the parchment and the scented seal of her dynasty.
He had kept it, the letter and seal, in a scroll case which he kept in a small lock box. He loathed to have the scent escape or the existence of the letter known to others. It was his secret, their secret in a way. Either way he treasured it and often held the thick paper absentmindedly in his hands as he stared at the night sky when he was alone.
Tonight was such a night.
Earlier that evening Aldrakar had send a small army of scrolls, letters and reports to the mainland. Dictated them as he was still recovering from wounds. He had sustained arrow wounds that not quite punctured his armor but did punch into his flesh as they were stuck in his armor. His hands were grizzled now, raw and a jungle of nicks and small cuts. His face was marred with bruising and his left eyebrow was swollen and sported half a dozen stitches.
He was currently seated on a truly Lurian couch, the kind that allowed one to lay down but still have some back support. Excelent for being fed grapes or lounge as one conversed with friends over a slow meal. Aldrakar hadn't done that much though. He recognized its comfort as it supported his left leg and at the same time allowed him to sit / lay comfortably.
An arrow had likewise found the flesh of his left leg and grazed it. The wound was larger than it should've been. A puncture wound would've been smaller, this was a nasty tear in his flesh. It throbbed but hadn't wept puss fortunately. As Aldrakar brought the scented seal to close to his face he inhaled deeply. Remembering their meeting when he had given her the Oil. Did she smell that now? He wasn't sure but it definitely smelled a million times better than anything else outside of his tent.
Reaching over to grab a small scribe board and parchment he started to write a short message to Lucini.
-I miss you Lucini, war is terrible and I fear I may have become a little bit more ugly. Not that you fell in love just for my good looks though. Right?-
Suppressing a small chuckle Aldrakar's smile quickly warped into a wince as his wounds and bruises protested.
-Soon I'll be in Port Nebel and from there will go to Askileon. I hope that when I arrive some of my wounds will have healed enough to hold a certain someone in my arms. That is if she would be there when I arrive. I don't want to tell you about my time here on Nebel Island. All I'll say is that your seal and love kept me alive.-
Feeling his resolve crumble and his mind grow dark Aldrakar resolved to end the already short letter.
-I'll be at your side soon Love.-
He folded the parchment twice and then handed it to a soldier. One of the few that was still relatively healthy. ''Take some of the gold on that table and make sure this letter finds its way to Lady Lucini of Giask.'' He held the trusted soldier's eye for a moment before returning to his star gazing.
''Yes m'lord, from your hand to Lady Lucini of Giask. It shall be done.'' The soldier intoned dutifully before turning smartly and departing.
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Some few more letter were exchanged between Lucini and Aldrakar but the day was drawing closer that the two would finally meet again. Forces from Luria had to refit and that meant Aldrakar would be in Askileon soon. Lucini wasted no time.
Written by the player of Lucini, Talratheon Family
Lucini's Personal ferry docked to at the royal pier of Askileon, that banner of the Imperial Conciliator it was a unique ship, unlike the ship of merchants or soldiers. A few guardsmen and sailor stood at the top keeping watching guard as the gang way opened and the signature black and gilded gold carriage within slowly exited led by white mares of Outer Giask, their hooves clomping against the wooden deck then short against the hard cobblestone pier. Inside the carriage Lady Lucini, peered out towards the sea from the window almost in hopes of seeing the ship of the Imperial Marshal.
But alas there was nothing, she had arrived early and before him and was almost grateful since it would give her time to situate her living situation. Flanking the four corners of her carriage were her Justicars on horseback, two more riding on the back of the carriage and two on the front leading the horses to their destination. Askileon being a slightly smaller city than Giask it didn't take long to arrive to the Royal Palace, pulling to a stop Lucini waited for the carriage door to opened before taking the hand of her guardsman.
He helped her out of the carriage as he soon released her hand once her balance was attained. She looked about, squinting her eyes to the bearing of the bright yellow sun of the coast and looking at the palace. Escorted by her guardsmen she entered the palace and towards the royal apartments particularly her own as she turned to one of her guards. "Await by the pier at my ferry, when the Imperial Marshal arrives let him know I'm within Askileon and then quickly make haste to me to inform me of his arrival."
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And of course the response RP. To horse! Distance is Noooo.. Problem!
Ride
It was late in the evening that the hunger stricken crew made port in Askileon. The night held that familiar chill that hinted at winter but it was quickly forgotten as the men worked hard to bring the ship in. All they really wanted was to get off the damned ship and to get food.
The skyline of the city was a mirage of shadows and lights. Laughter on the wind and graceful silhouettes in the dark, Askileon never really slept. The harbor bell rang as Aldrakar's ship, the Imperial Marshals vessel was safely secure. A whistle joined it and soon followed by the clatter of hooves as message of his arrival was reported.
Lucini's servant was keen to notice this as well. He hurried along to the ship and as soon as he spotted Aldrakar himself he left a written note. A note that detailed the location of Lucini and her request to see him. Perhaps not written down but he definitely voiced it. A weary smile appeared on Aldrakar's face as he absorbed the news. ''Lucini'' the word softly whispered as it escaped his lips.
His short lived moment of happiness disturbed by the handful of soldiers emerging from the ship after him. Some still in bandages and many of them famished. Wasting no time Aldrakar gave his sergeant 2 solid coins of gold and told him to look after the men. Himself he commandeered a horse, a brown one that looked jet black during the night.
The streets were filled with noises but added to them was the clattering of hooves from a battle torn warrior urging his horse on faster and faster. His destination clear for he took the most direct route to the palace, the palace and the woman he loved.
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This led to Lucini being rushed which is all good fun in my opinion hehe.
Hurry
Lucini was very happy, though not for Aldrakar since that news hadn't reached her ears yet but rather for a different man. One who sat in the dungeons that she had waited for, the man who had slandered her former liege lord. One who once served the interests of the empire but now fought against it first with the Vesperians and now with the D'Harans. He was a consistent thorn in the side of Lucini and the Empire and she was eager to get to him. She smiled with a pleased expression when she read the letter and only looked to the door as it burst open.
Standing there was her guardsman she sent to the pier to look out for the Imperial Marshal, he was out of breathing attempting to both speak and gesture his pardon. "Well.. you have something to report?" she asked curiously as it took him a few more seconds to suck in enough air to speak coherently. He quickly made it known the Imperial Marshal's ship arrived and he was last seen on horseback riding towards the palace, Lucini stood quickly looking at her self and shooing away the guardsman and rushing from the office to her bedroom and summoning her lady in wait to attend to her.
"Quick.. set out refreshments..hell, I need a better dress.." Being caught in a nightgown wasn't the most pleasing thing in her opinion though she did consider Aldrakar to care, but it wouldn't stop her from changing anyway...
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As their meeting drew closer the RP's became more detailed and I suppose both writers tried to offer one another time to sculpt the setting etc. Really courteous and excellent form form.
The door
The night stretched on as it revealed its most bright stars in the sky above as Aldrakar rode on towards the palace. In the streets of the never truly sleeping city of Askileon several obscure shapes of men and women scurried away from the menace that was the rider in worn noble clothing. The hooves of his steed ringing of the cobble of the street and bouncing of the walls of the dwellings he passed.
A spooked troupe of the night's watch shouted him to halt, to stop but he heeded them not and in the dead of night they had no means to pursue or to trap him. Aldrakar paid them no attention, the palace was in sight. The braziers like beacons and the opulent spires like fingers of a hand reaching for the dreams that hung high in the sky. A fierce smile took hold of his face and he urged his mount on, faster!
Danger was as always ever present and especially so during nighttime. Like a cloaked man it stalked Aldrakar. Riding hard through narrow streets was like inviting danger. Tonight though, the cloaked man waved him on, seemingly wishing him well.
Arriving at the palace Aldrakar dismounted with a jump, his knees bending as they absorbed the impact of landing. Palace guards emerged from the gates and with them 2 servants. One to inquire who he was and the second to take his horse. Aldrakar Flashed his imperial ring, the one of his office and in a soft and soothing voice told them his name. The palace guards stood to attention but eyed one another questioningly. Where was Aldrakar's personal guard? the question hung palpable in the air around them. Aldrakar chuckled and told them the truth. They were in the taverns, in the inns and in warm beds not quite alone he guessed.
With that he pushed past them and left his horse to the servants. His feet eagerly taking him up the steps of the palace towards the great gate and through it. He hurried through the dimly lit corridors and like a young man did so with a cats grace a less dignity than he should've. The smile never from his face and even as he burst through sleepy groups of overworked servants he never lost much speed.
Quick approaching the chambers of the Imperial Conciliator Aldrakar slowed his step. Sudden apprehension blooming from his head throughout his body. He halted, his hands reaching and combing through his blond hair that he smoothed back. Would Lucini be inside? Did she have separate chambers than these official ones? Should he ask a servant?
A grin conquered his face as he realized his silliness and strode boldly towards the door. His chest heaving as it tried to content his body with enough air, his cheeks flushed with exertion and his white teeth shining a pearly shade in the glow of candles. He knocked on the door and waited for what seemed like an eternity.
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Now I have to admit, I am not good at this kind of thing. The romantic writing. The lavish amount of detail and all that. To my surprise I discovered the other writer was quite skilled at this, details.
The greeting
With the rush of haste her lady in wait and her servants worked ferociously to strip away the night gown, leaving her nude as they quickly dressed her in a brassiere, under dress and finally the kirtle and noble dress in her usual colors of black and gold fabrics, a mixture of velvet and wool to provide warmth during the cool airs of the fall. Within the parlor the servants set down on the table the empty silver goblets and pitcher of wine and cold water along with a table set up to the side with a basin atop of it filled with rose water and clan rags off to the side should her guest wish to clean themselves to make themselves more presentable.
Dishes of quick made cheese cubes, crackers, pastries, and sliced smoked ham and sliced roast beef was set out for them. Many of the servants looking puffy faced having been woken up for the occasion. Yet none of them would dare protest her ladyship when she made such a request as this so abruptly. With the quick knock at the door one of her guardsmen who flanked the inside of the door would move to open it looking over Aldrakar and recognize him, making way for the Imperial Marshal, both of them giving him a respectful bow of their heads as a servant soon approached Aldrakar.
"Welcome Imperial Marshal, Lady Talratheon is merely freshening up please feel free to make use of the basin and a helping of refreshments in the parlor. She shouldn't be long." He said timidly before bowing his head as well while retreating respectfully. There would be a few minutes before Lucini emerged but soon the doors from her personal quarters she was dressed a comfortable yet elegant evening gown, the neck flanked with black fox fur stole. She looked to Aldrakar with a half smile, her green eyes looking him up and down before looking over to her guardsmen and servants giving them a nod of dismissal.
They soon left the parlor, leaving the two alone with the only sound being that of the crackling flames in the braziers of the room and the scent the cheese, meats and wine. Lucini giggled a noticeable tear leaving her eye as she looked to the side to be sure of their isolation. "My love.. you look a mess." She approached him quite unfearful of the dirty armor or the scent he brought from a long voyage on the sea and looked up to the more taller male. Reaching up she placed a hand to his face and smiled a bit longer. "But a handsome mess."
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Continued! I have to admit though that this was probably me chickening out a bit. However! in my defense we did have a war to fight. You know, refit, return, battle! A warriors life is so simple compared to a romantic love life.
The Call
Feeling the touch of Lucini's hand on his face took the last of the trepidation out of his body as his breathing settled. Aldrakar ignored the passing of the servants as they left the parlor as he only had eyes for Lucini.
The armor he wore was a leather cuirrass and legguards made of hard leather. It wasn't fancy in any regard other than that it was of good quality. Under the layers of leather armor he wore a loose blouse of cream white linnen that was visible on his arms as it sprouted from the cuirrass. His shoulders were drapped in a dark brown, heavy cotton cloak that was neatly tailored to his frame.
As silence descended on the couple Aldrakar lifted his hand and placed it over hers. Moving it to his lips and kissed it. ''No tears my love. I'm alive and not a shade yet.'' The scent of rose water reached his nostrils and with it the contrast that was his own odor. He gave Lucini an apologetic look as he released her hand and looked to the baisin of water.
Remaining in place for a short moment as if in indecision Aldrakar's face enriched with a smile as he spread his arms and took Lucini into his embrace. Holding her close he said through the locks of her raven hair ''A few steps is too far away to be from you now. The water can wait.''
A stern set of knocks on the parlor door interupted their embrace though. ''Imperial Marshal Aldrakar? M'Lord?!'' A gruff and penetrating voice invaded their space. ''What?..'' Aldrakar said in an annoyed and somehwat dangerous voice. ''M'lord, just received report that there is a huge warhost of D'haran's Fissoans and Barcans outside of Port Nebel. The Marshals have called a general assembly. We must leave for Port Nebel Sir!''
Sighing and visibly flexing the muscle cords in his neck and jaw Aldrakar looked defiantly at the door, as if a sworn enemy. ''I'll be at the ship in the morning.'' A short silence stretched as there was no reply. ''...Understood Sir!'' A quick succession of footfalls could be heard trailing away from the parlor door and Aldrakar and Lucini were alone again.
Aldrakar felt the first tentative tendrils of anger stretch out through his body but tried to calm his mind and succeeded when he looked into Lucini's eyes. ''I'm sorry my love.''
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Continued once more! I have to say though, this RP quite blew me away. The sheer volume of emotions poured into the words. It moved me. I couldn't just let this be the end.
Her face
Lucini felt at ease with Aldrakar finally before her, too long if questions and fear of his death flowing through her mind to sit at ease. Feeling his hand upon hers, then his lips pressed to it in a kiss, she smiled a bit brighter now as her other hand pressed to his chest feeling the leather armor. Her fingers faintly running over the rough exterior and finally to his linen covered arm. Her eyes simply looked over his features with adoration while he deliberated the use of the basin. She chuckled at his final reasoning as she added, "You smell of a man my love, a soldier, a warrior.. I wouldn't seek for you to wash that away on my account."
Her voice spoke with a soft tone of submissiveness to him, a strange tone from the Imperial Conciliator though right now she wasn't that feared judge, she was a Lady, his Lady. Her eyes shot to the door with an equal amount of annoyance and frustration when the knocks came about and she heard the news and was quiet, her hands still upon Aldraker as he informed the messenger of his commands. Lucini felt the sting of disappointment as the news came and it showed heavily on her expression.
When he looked back to her and apologized, she smiled a forced one albeit and returned her hand to the side of his face, running her fingers through his hair. "We serve the great Empire my love, it is our burden... sometimes I talk too much.." She said growing quiet and looking over his features with her green gaze before suddenly leaning up on the tips of her toes, while pulling his head down and kissing him firm;y on the lips. She held the kiss for about three seconds before pulling away and smiling. "D'Harans will pay for this disturbance."
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!Warning! I feel I should, I'm obliged. Corny-ness ahead. I discussed prior to any continuation of the RP with the player of Lucini about what was acceptable and what wasn't. I'm not familiar with any form of explicit RP and well to be fair I don't want to find what happens when someone presses that VULGAR button at the bottom of posts. So I explained how I rather not go into too much detail and rather just let it blur into emotions. Agreement was reached and I'll post the results here. Enjoy.
The Kiss
Lucini's words fell away, tumbling like water from a waterfall. yet there was no thunder, the waterfall was entirely forgotten when Aldrakar felt Lucini's lips pressed against his. His heart surged and his limbs filled with warmth as he felt lust bloom through his body. When she stepped back he looked down on her but saw no small woman. He looked deep into her eyes as he stepped close to her again like with their kiss.
Gazing down into her eyes his head made small adjustments as he looked over her face, admiring it for what it was. Not just the person but the body. His eyes left the soft features of her face and slid down to her neck and beheld her shoulders. A soft noise of approval escaped his throat.
Leaning his head down to her neck and moving his hands so that one was held on her lower back and the other cradled her face as he brushed his lips along her neck. Kissing it softly and smelling the perfect scents of her body. His one hand wandering the space of her lower back and slightly beyond.
The wandering hand guided her as much as the rest of his body as he spied out the direction for the bed that surely must exist in the parlor. Lifting his head a moment only to whisper into her ear with a low and heavy voice ''Morning is far away love and I've had a rich imagination.''
Joy mixed with love but in turn was overruled by lust and a rooted desire to need, to have, to take. Many noises of greedy pleasure and anticipation escaped Aldrakar's lips.
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Continued !Warning! Nothing more to it really. Read on if you like.
The Chamber
( I entirely forgot to credit the Player of Lucini the last 3 posts but I'm kinda certain you've figured it out by now. This one is by Lucini)
It was a bold move she made and she wasn't sure how it would go with the man, and while she felt prepared for any reaction her heart leapt in anticipation of what this could lead to. Her lips pressed together and formed a small and innocent smile, she looked up to into his eyes with a gaze of transparency. When he stepped close and soon felt his hand reach to her lower back and the other cradling her face, she leaned her face into his hand lightly.
She took in the smell of the sea and his sweat with an almost admiration for it, as his lips pressed to her neck kissing it she let out a soft and shuddered breath. Her hand moved to the neck line of his leather armor, the other cupping around the back of his head, her fingers digging into his hair and pulled him closer to her. Her body became warm and flush with excitement when his hand explored slightly beyond she gave no indication of rebellion or disapproval.
She could see his wandering eyes when he finally pulled back and she smiled seductively, softly biting her lower lip as she turned her head ever so slightly to the door behind her where her chambers laid. Then turned in time to hear those words whispered in her ear, and she smiled whispering into his ear as well but first biting his ear lobe playfully. "Then I say we put our imaginations to work my love.. and collaborate until morning."
She too had been desiring this for a long time, since they'd processed their love to one another and she began to see him as more than a friend, more than a marshal. She leaned back a bit to catch his lips with hers again with a soft kiss then moving her hand from his hair and grasping the one upon her face and pulled away entirely pulling him along by hand towards her bedroom. The door wasn't far and when she reached it she grabbed the handle and opened it pulling him inside with her before closing it and locking the latch.
She turned to him smiling her hands reaching to the bodice of her dress as her hands began undoing the side laces, carefully and yet rushed.
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Continued !Warnings! All around! This part is Aldrakar's perception and coincidentally also my conclusion of the event. I don't think there is anything Vulgar in it but you know, It has a certain level of Corny-ness to it. Bewarned and thread lightly.
The act of Love
Sensations rushed through Aldrakar as he tasted, felt, smelled and foremost saw Lucini. The short journey to her chambers was like a wonderful mirage that made his senses keen like when in battle. He wanted it all now,. Feeling his groin harden as Lucini pulled him into her room and disentangled herself from him.
He licked his lips as he watched her for a short moment as she started to undo the lace of the bodice, his eyes sharp and he greedily took spied out the contours of her body. His hands moved swiftly to unbelt the straps that held his leather cuirass in place. A firm tug saw the leather release its grip on his torso and with a heave he pulled it over his head before he carelessly discarded it to the right. Unable to resist himself he looked at Lucini as her attire was shed like petals of a flower, each item of clothing allowing more of her figure to be seen. A rush of blood made his face redder and his throat dry so that he swallowed.
A trail, a short trail of armor saw Aldrakar in a loose linnen blouse that could almost be seen as a tunic in lenth. It outlined his muscular frame, that of a man still young. Even in the gloom of the bedchamber the linnen held its mild transparent quality. The neck a V cut and from it bulding shoulder muscles were exposed that entirely conspired with the cords of muscle in his neck to undo the blouse every time he turned his head.
Standing with only the cream white blouse revealed several short scars on his legs. one more pinkish than the rest. His arms were free from such markings save for a long white line that could hint at an old laceration on his left arm. With a simple gesture Aldrakar undid himself of the bothersome blouse and as it was pulled over his head and thrown away into a random corner his grinning or rather smiling face showed itself again among a shower of golden hairs as they found their rightfull place hanging down to his shoulders.
That night Aldrakar forgot the world. He was lost in his lover and the love he felt for her. The bed was soft and its pillows were supreme but they were rubbish compared to the softness of Lucini's body, her hips, her breasts and her hands. In the gloom he beheld her body as she arched, as she moved and as she clutched him. Often times he cradled her or supported her with his arms that bore a sunskissed color from campaigning on the Tomb Islands but hardly ever noticed the stark difference of their skin colors. Her's being pale and his being tan, like marble and bronze.
For all his warrior attire and propagated fighter and leadership ability Aldrakar was a gentle lover, he tried to be at least at first but rather was taken to become passionate often times. His young body chiseled by training and war, his chest sporting little hair as it would chaffe against the pressing armor and in their coils of lovemaking an onlooker could perhaps wonder at their age but such never once entered Aldrkar's mind. He submerged entirely into the act of love that he and Lucini were engaged in.
Come morning, warm and welcome rays of sunlight gently touched Aldrakar's cheeks. He groaned softly as his eyelids were teased by the sun. He lifted his hand to pull the blanket over his face. As he did so he awoke with a slight start. His fingers lifted from a most pristine and warm surface, a soft and yet hard nub rubbed against his fingers and then he realised his face was halfly burried in black hair, it smelled wonderful. Opening his eyes he beheld Lucini's smaller body nestled against him. He had his arm around her back with his hand resting on her chest. He couldn't help but grin at the thought and realisation. A content feeling washed over him and he sank back into his pillow and hid his face in the tangle that was her hair.
-Knock, knock knock!- ''Mistress? I have prepared your morning meal for you.. and a bit extra.'' Came a formal female voice that held a hint of glee at the end of the sentence. ''The door was locked so I resolved to leave it out here. Its warm food Mistress and I'll prepare your clothing now. I'll leave them in the Antechamber.'' The voice died away but in its place soft foodsteps could be heard, a closet door opening and the rustle of fabric.
With one eye open Aldrakar couldn't help but share the glee he had percieved and let out a soft chuckle.
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Continued Warning! Lucini's perction incoming. Most revealing but not in graphical way mind you. It actually had me silenced for a while, like ''Really?!'' Naturally Aldrakar had to be played the dumb guy. Guys are always dumb. Ask any woman.
Lucini - Writen by the player of Lucini of course, Talratheon Family.
Her bodice and dress was fairly difficult to take off as quickly as armor but her hands moved with experience as he stripped away the bodice and let the dress fall to her feet as she stood there in nothing more than a long flowing white chemise. Her eyes never left the sight of her lover before her, even as he pulled away the armor and set it aside, she raised her left foot back first unlacing the boot and pulling it off before doing the same with the other.
Her bare feet touching the cold floor that sent a slight shiver through her body, and yet she looked him over and took vision of his muscled body, the youthful figure and she smiled at his blush and approached him being forced to look up slightly given her much shorter stature. She bit her lower lip and pulled the chemise over her head and let it fall to the floor standing there, quite petite and her complexion a pale alabaster. The only marks upon her flesh being that of a light pink slash over her fore arm and in her shoulder, long healed.
Lucini smiled looking at his naked frame now and let his hands run up the muscles of her chest, before leaning close and whispering softly. "I am a bit frightened... but I want you more than my fear will disallow." She confessed before moving past him and sitting on the bed, slowly scooting back bit by bit before laying back and smiling to him, "Come my love.. take claim of what is yours." She taunted and flirted to him.
Lucini didn't much care about anything other than her lover that night, not Justice, not the war nor the consistent tow of prisoners under her purview. It was both a pleasurable and painful night as she became the submissive force under his might, she took him in and nearly all aspect during the night, his smell, his body, among others. With her own inexperience in this field of love, she did her best to be an accommodating lover to him.
She wasn't sure how long they had made love nor how late it was before she fell asleep but despite the pain of lost virginity, she slept quite peacefully only for it to be disturbed by knocking on her chamber door. Her eyelids slowly parted giving way to the green eyes that groggily began to look about and gain her bearings. She moved to sit up but was stopped when she felt Aldrakar's hand on her chest then listened to her lady in wait. She groaned softly feeling the after pain last night, she reached down taking his hand and kissed it softly. "If she knocks again.. please kill her... I jest, I wish you didn't have to leave this morning."
Lucini stated softly moving her own hair from her face as she scooted back against him, despite the soreness.
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Continued. But here there is no need really for warning of any kind. Just some silly Aldrakaring. It is kinda the conclusion of the string of RPs. Aldrakar has to return to the war-front and Lucini has to tend to the Justice department. Kinda curious combination. Judge and General in love.
To kill or not to kill.
Feeling Lucini stir and move closer to him prompted Aldrakar to hold her closer with the one arm he had free to hold her with. His eyes peering at the door for a moment until the obvious sounds of activity started to vanish from behind it. ''Kill her?'' A short pauze ensued. ''She'll die at once!'' He proclaimed as he lifted his torso into an upright sitting position. Snatching up one of the pillow he accurately threw it at the door in a fluent motion. The pillow arched lazily through the air before crashing against the door. Aldrakar looked down at the beautiful huddle that was Lucini under the blankets. ''Death by pillow.. first attempt seems to be a failure.''
Leaning down towards her face Aldrakar wanted to plant a kiss on her cheek but found his path blocked by jet black hair. Brushing them aside with his hand it felt natural to him to simply guide her face to turn to his before kissing her tenderly on the lips. His blue eyes only showing themselves after the kiss was completed. Ignoring the second part of her inquery ''Attempt two shall be succesful, I swear it.'' Aldrakar withdrew entirely and pushed himself off from the bed and stood up.
In the sneaking rays of sunlight that had penetrated the curtains Aldrakar strode naked towards the door. ''I'm certain this pillow will be a lethal murder weapon. Look at the cutting edge on it!'' He proffesed in mock amazement as he snatched the pillow up again with a simple display of agility as he bend down to grab it with one extended arm while keeping his legs straight.
Unlocking and then opening the door of the bedchamber Aldrakar held the pillow up menacingly as he strode boldly out of the room. A sound of something soft landing some distance away could be heard and soon was followed by Aldrakar entering the room again. This time however he carried a tray of morning foods. A steaming teapot and several fried pieces of meat and egg. Warm, aromatic bread and several other items not quite visible at first glance. He set the tray down at the end of the bed where he had taken seat.
''You'll have to come and get it if you want any of this.'' He said in a teasing manner but also with an undertone of truth. His hands ripped apart a piece of bread in twine and saw both of them decorated with some of the red fried meat. Bringing the first part to his mouth and eating it he set the second aside in lucini's general direction. Munching on the food Aldrakar looked at the origin of the sunlight and quietly contemplated for a short time. His eyes looked over to Lucini while turning his head to her with a small smile. His mouth was too full to actually properly speak and the thought almost made him laugh out loud.
An annoying fact wormed its way into his mind and with it his demeanor turned more business-like. He got up from the bed and started to collect his clothes. Arranging them in a sloppy manner he started to dress. After getting into his trousers and fastening his belt he looked up at Lucini. ''The ship will set sail soon. I'll have to hurry.''
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Hey again. Yes this time I got something entirely different for you. No more smooching or anything like that. Raw battle this time! As I wrote this RP about the battle at Nebel I got entirely carried away. It became way too long but I just rolled with it. Let it be long if my inspiration to write continues. Here is the result of that inspiration. I try to do the other players justice in my RP's in accordance to what the battle reports details and asked for their opinions at the end of the RP via an OOC message attached.
First days of Winter
It was days since anyone enjoyed a hearty meal. Now with the cold of winter in the air the men and woman of Port Nebel longed even more for a full, steaming plate of food. Dogs were but a memory already, cats long gone and the only game left in the streets were the rodents. Their tricky ways had saved them so far but many a desperate soul had taken to rat hunting. The streets looked empty now, people couldn't leave the city and neither could anyone really reach it. D'haran soldiers with the occasional Fissoan company had formed a warhost that camped outside the city walls.
The previous morning the Lurian Soldiers had emptied the city. They had marched through the western gate under the curious gaze of the common born people of the port. Were they deserting them to starve? Did they leave a dying city? Questions they dared not ask anymore. Riots had been ruthlessly put down. By the sword and by the spear were the people of Port Nebel brought to heel.
At the front of the Lurian warhost rode the Emperor of Luria himself, his Imperial Majesty Seoras Madigan Nifelleisca. A short distance behind the man rode Aldrakar. He quietly reflected on the hardships of hunger and the siege they had endured so far in Port Nebel. Atop a brown horse he rode next to Lord Marshal Amyclas who was to lead the coming battle. The man was impressive of build and had a widely known taste for blood, for battle.
Even though the three of them had regularly spoken and at length there was little indication of friendliness and much of formality and proper conduct. The Lurian soldiers that marched with them were hungry, not for vengeance but mainly just hungry for food. From that anger often sprouted which in turn was directed at the D'harans. It was a nasty situation that didn't sit well with Aldrakar and he guessed neither with the other nobles, be they Lurian or otherwise.
The future battlefield upon which they would fight lay before them as they trudged down the muddy road. Snow didn't really form this far to the south of Dwilight but still the clouds overhead conspired to inundate the land in cold rain. The day was grey, the sun far removed from thought and the fields of Nebel long bereft of tranquility.
The D'haran camp was ahead, they had naturally known the Lurians would sally forth at some point. Expected it perhaps, planned? The natives of Nebel stayed indoors and waited till the violence of nobles past them by. That was really all they could hope for. The D'harans brought many infantry with them. Line upon line of shield and sword or spear awaited the Lurians. The faces of D'haran shields linked with the occasional Fissoan shield as they moved to present a shieldwall to the approaching Lurian attackers.
His Imperial Majesty rode off to the side to look out over at the forces arrayed against his warriors. The Marshals followed him. Amyclas who would lead the fight for the Lurians, Idesbald, the previous Imperial Marshal of Luria and Aldrakar the current. A few quiet words were spoken and the Emperor assented with his Marshals. The forces were drawn up in battle formation. Aldrakar knew a moment of surprise as the Emperor took up position with his loyal spearmen. Not only because Seoras would participate but also because the Emperor choose to fight in a forward position within the army.
Aldrakar himself left his horse with the servants and stood with his shieldguard. Men he had been with for years by now. Swordsmen each and all. It wasn't Aldrakar alone that stood bravely with the Emperor that day. Great warriors of Luria where among the army. Some of the names that stood out were Kamron Lorganson, Robert De la Gardie and Eddard Huntington.
The rain had stopped since an hour past. The grey of clouds had never left the skies and the two hosts faced one another on the muddy plains of Nebel. Boots covered with dirt already, greaves stained with mud and faces red from the biting wind. Lord Marshal Amyclas rode ahead of the Army as he delivered a short speech. Colorful in his descriptions and full of rough humor. The soldiers of Luria grinned and gave a cheer for their Marshal. A keen observer might've discerned a private look the Marshals and Emperor exchanged.
Bodies transformed into units of moving steel, leather and fabric as the armies began to move towards one another. The D'harans and their Fissoan comrades kept their ground. They stayed in close formation and kept their shields close to their bodies. Ready to take the impact of Lurian aggression. The sound of crunching wed soil underneath the soles of his boots rose up to Aldrakar's ears and he tried to focus on that sound. He tried to ward his mind against fear, against love, Lucini's face skirted past his mind's eye but was quickly locked away in the depths of his mind.
As visors were lowered and banners held more erectly faceless men let out roaring battle cries as they started to charge. The D'haran formation resolved its unity and held firm. They were wise to do so for a hail, not from the clouds or heavens, descended upon them. Hundreds of arrows shot from Lurian Bows pounded onto the D'haran formation. Many shields held but the lesser of their kind gave way and got punctured. The first screams of pain, anger and shock were torn from the D'harans as the Lurian arrows ripped into them. Not once, not twice but many more waves washed over them. They never gave an inch.
The Imperial Banner was among the first to crash into the Shieldwall. A raging beast of spears and armor battered at the shields and defenders of D'hara. Quick to join them was Amyclas who with his superb warriors, handpicked for their loyalty, gave a deadly display of swordsmanship as they hacked at their enemies.
As the initial crash of steel and blood passed did Aldrakar perceive an opening, a waning moment he seized. Together with Idesbald and Kamron they rushed the weak point in the D'haran formation and like a hammer smashed through the shieldwall. Wildly screaming Kamron dismembered a Fissoan man at arms and kicked the stunned man to the ground. With deadly accuracy Idesbald leapt to Kamrons aid as he drove his sword deep into the guts of a D'haran spearman. Parrying the spear before he did so. With their valiant action Aldrakar was able to move on ahead and press the advantage.
Only half a dozen steps past his noble allies was Aldrakar faced with a colorful and masterfully armored foe. His own face in wonder at the craftsmanship but one he couldn't maintain for long as the D'haran swung his weapon at Aldrakar. One sweep, aimed high at his head. Another at his thigh and them the mightly warrior rushed forwards to drive the point of his weapon through Aldrakar's chest. panic rushing through him for a heartbeat Aldrakar jerked his body to the right and angled his own sword to meet his attacker.
The Margrave of Chesland, Gaidin Sorandil gave an unnatural sound as he sped past Aldrakar. The flaming broadsword Aldrakar employed nearly ripped from his grasp with the force of Gaidin stumbling to the ground, splashing mud over his wondrous armor. There was no time to check who it was or even to deliver a finishing blow. Gaidin’s weapon failed to touch Aldrakar and was hurt in turn. A man down was a man out of the fight and the fight was still very much going on.
The Lurians were overrunning the D'haran shieldwall. It was clear to all in hindsight perhaps. Too many Lurians and too few Fissoan's to assist the D'harans. Arrows had found the new Prime Minister of D'hara. A shot fired from Tanin Levine, a young Lurian Knight with a promising future surely.
As the battle raged on Kamron was seen in all his battle furry as he took on way too many enemies at once then any sane man would and managed to kill or drive them off with furious blows! Weapons rained down on him but harmlessly bounced off his armor or were expertly dodged or parried. Idesbald continued his killer discipline and held the center of the Lurian infantry together. Lord Marshal Amyclas wasn't seen much but from all the unseen places screams rose intermingled with maniacal laughter.
While fighting Aldrakar couldn't help but feel dread at the thought of finding Soren Argent. The Price-at-Arms of Fissoa. He had grown to like the man and both had come to noble understanding on how to conduct warfare. If only they never had to fight one another. This day was kind enough to never reveal either of them to the other. The same couldn't be said for Rynn JeVondair.
Still punching through D'haran lines like the trust of a masterwork spearhead through a feeble shield Aldrakar's Shieldguard came upon one of the Royals of D'hara. Momentum drove the two bodies of men together and neither backed down. Stubborn pride drove both sides to viscous fighting and the flaming sword of Aldrakar found its mark again. Rynn managed to parry a string of precision strokes aimed at his armpits and lower leg. The two were a ray of sunshine in a downpour of brawling as the two fought man to man for two dozen heartbeats.
Their fight was interrupted as so much fighting is in mass melee. They were crushed together by the sheer weight of other combatants around them. When they untangled Rynn let out a yelp of pain or was it a cry? There was too much noise to tell but it was clear he had no heart to continue their fight. Rynn limped away as he cradled one of his limbs, blood pouring from a wound.
After that the battle became a slaughter. The D'harans and few Fissoans were overrun, butchered as they refused to surrender and the day had true reason to be grim again, save for the season of winter.
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Right after that last RP I decided it would be good to write another one! I know addict. When inspiration holds just let it flow I suppose. Aldrakar is follower of the Bloodstars, the main religion on Dwilight. Here you can see him praying after the battle against the D'harans in Nebel.
After battle
With another battle on Nebel island concluded and more faithful departed from this world Aldrakar moved away from the carnage. The battlefield was littered with D'haran dead. They had fought bravely but ultimately their shieldwall was shattered and with nearly only infantry it quickly turned to slaughter.
Blood had cooled quickly in the season of winter even without the promise of snow as was the climate in the south. His armor stained from shin to chest in the crimson sticky stuff and his hair glued to his scalp with sweat Aldrakar tried to find a quiet spot. A solemn tree would do he reckoned.
Getting down on one knee with some difficulty Aldrakar raised his sword in front of him and planted its tip into the soil. His armor sporting quite a few dents and deformities he was lucky to be spared serious injury. In this state he murmured a prayer to the bloodstars that cast their gazes out over the landscape as they rose in the night-sky.
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Back again! After a long time dealing with war, feeling like a diplomat and getting onwards with cunning plans Aldrakar got stuck on a ferry..
Damn I won't set food on ferries for a long long time now. Anyways, a little return to Civilization RP along with some personal touches. Enjoy.
The Ferry Man
Weeks spend on the mirror surface of the ocean. Waves ever away from vision and mind even prayers did not persuade the water to motion as sailors tried everything in desperation. The journey from Port Nebel to Giask took many more days.. weeks than it should've. Aldrakar stood on deck looking out towards the land that was Luria. Finally! He thought to himself. What gods above or below conspired to keep this ship from moving for so long! Deckmen scurried about as they fixed sail-ines, ropes and in general did the bidding of the first mate.
The massive sprawl of civilization that was Giask dominated the landscape before them. Spires of brown clay, some of white and countless houses arrayed in neat lines in the center and enormous chaotic hives on the outer parts of the city. City walls that dated back to the ancient days, weary with the passage of time but kept in good shape by the stone masons guild and the ever flowing stream of coin from the mistress of the city. Aldrakar felt elated that he would soon be on solid ground again even if he had grown quite the set of sea legs already by now.
''Mornin'! Imp'rial 'Arshal!'' slurred the captain of the ferry. The thickset and balding man slowly approached Aldrakar. ''Damn fine sight if I say so Me'self!'' the aging mans hands resting on the rail of the ship as he leaned out a bit.''Quite so Captain.'' Aldrakar said in less than friendly manner. ''Docking will be complete before noon I assume?'' His tone anything but a question. ''Noon, Night.. Who can tell?'' The near chubby man purred as he shrugged. Aldrakar felt a surge of anger pass through his body but waited it out as he clutched the heavy beams that made up the ship's rail. The Ferry man, percieving potential danger lumbered away again to pick on an unexpecting deckhand that did entirely nothing wrong to begin with.
The day stretched out before all aboard but the ship never touched the docks. As with everything in the big cities, there were ques. Ships lined up to moore, cranes had a schedual and workmen had to be allocated before anything really got done. Late that evening Aldrakar was finally able to disembark from the cursed ferry and wasted no time in setting off towards the Royal Rangers Guildhouse. It was no secret that his prized weapon, a flaming Broadsword was heavily damaged. The battles on Nebel island taking their toll as Luria did on D'haran lives so did D'haran armour exact a toll on Lurian Steel.
Before he left however he dispatched a messenger to inform Lady Lucini of his arrival in Giask with promise to visit her. A small guard of perhaps 6 men accompanied Aldrakar as he mounted up on a linnen coloured steed of mixed breeding. He couldn't care less at this time and put the beast to a canter and away they were.
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A quick second RP. This one elaborating on the ending of the previous. Aldrakar arriving at Talratheon Estate in Giask. Enjoy!
A quick visit
The ship that had carried Aldrakar over the mirror sea between D'hara and Luria was still in port. Its crew enjoying the taverns and various drinking holes that the docklands were rich in. Rumor spread about a ted haired woman that was supposed to have tamed a lion but then again don't give much credence to rumors. They're usually wrong.
With a small company of mounted men, their number just over the 5 fingers of a man's hand did Aldrakar arrive at the old Ducal Palace of Giask. The structure was as lavish as it was large. Gardens the size of city blocks, fountains spacious enough to hold bath parties in and stables with enough cot's to house a full company of horsemen twice over! The outer walls of the complex looked damaged, vandalized even. Foul incribings upon the rock, dirt staining the pristine white and even dried blood if you really paid attention.
Riding up to the arched gatehouse saw the group of 7 horsemen easily allowed in. There was some benefit to bearing the Imperial Banner after all. Maybe it was the close relation House Renodin had with House Talratheon. The horses were left in the care of the stable master and several servants tried their best to keep a pack of hunting dogs at bay as they barked loudly at the arrival of the newcomers. Aldrakar smiled freely as he took in the amazing sights. Wide avenues leading away from the Gatehouse towards the various main buildings of which the Talratheon estate was comprised of. Lush with vegetation and dotted with impressive statues. A streak of uncertainty skirted across his face and it must've shown. At least it did to an aged and whitehaired butler, servant or whatever his title was. He enjoyed some respect from the lesser servants and apparently he felt it his place to address Aldrakar. ''This way your Lordship.'' The man bowed down and made a grand gesture which indicated one of the main buildings.
Walking with the aged servant Aldrakar dismissed his men to rest in the common barracks on the estate and they in turn saluted and were bad enough not to hide their gleaful grins at the prospect of Exploring this place for themselves. The old servant led Aldrakar to a large and tall if not decorated door upon which he knocked. A looking slit opened and youthful eyes peered out. A hushed intake of breath preceded the large door from opening as the looking slit closed and allowing both Aldrakar and the old servant inside.
They made their way to a reception room, a waiting room really. It was majestic and opulent as only the Masters of Giask could afford. Carefully taking a seat on one of the neatly arranged cushioned benches Aldrakar took off his dark brown leather gloves and ran a hand through his mane of sun blond hair. Waiting patiently on word if the Mistress of the Estate was present and had some time for him.
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This time I was convinced by someone to also archive the small RP's I sometimes write and send out. Usually to only a handful of people and really don't take much time to type up. This one describes (briefly) how Aldrakar arives to the city of Shinnen and sends out messengers to give his regards to other nobles present.
Regards to the other nobles
Riding with the small group of soldiers Aldrakar sat atop a beige colored steed. His dark brown cloak covering half of the creature and resisting the tug of the early morning wind. Noticing the banners of Sir Terentius and Sir Ormans a mailed hand points at two of his men at arms. ''Deliver my regard to the respective nobles of the realm.'' Aldrakar said with a calm but authoritative voice.
The clatter of hooves echoed through the winding streets as they continued on their way towards the local market.
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Hey everyone! This is a proper, decent lenght battle RP. Its against monsters but thats to be expected with this new Wave of critters besieging many realms. They kinda cought Aldrakar off guard as you may read. Enjoy!
Through skeletal hands
It was a baleful day this autumn day which Aldrakar found himself traveling through. Trees were harassed by strong winds and and many a peasant was seen busy tending to their vulnerable roofs. Thatch mended, tiles replaced or unfortunate enough to have parts of the roof entirely ripped off their homes.
With the rich browns, yellows and reds surrounding the small company of men that were the last remaining Shieldguards did Aldrakar set out from Aveston to Askileon. The first region to cross was Thar Gortuath. The land stretched out before them as it was dotted with gently sloped hills, sparse woodlands and numerous villages. The roads had endured the same treatment as the dwellings of the poor and its state was much to be desired of.
That being as it was, the small group of armed men had chosen to avoid a particular bad section of the road network.
A traveling bard had informed them that not a day travel away the road had been washed away by a storm, littered with debris and had told that traveling through the country side would prove quicker. After taking short council with his sergeant Aldrakar had opted to do exactly this. The land was not unfamiliar as he had traveled through the domains of Sun Hall many times. That didn't mean that surprises could still be thrown at him though, as fate seemed to have in store.
Somewhere just after mid morning when the 6 soldiers and Aldrakar were keeping an eye out for a place to stop and enjoy their lunch time meal did fate reveal her surprise to the unsuspecting group. That morning had been plagued by light mists and occational drizzle that had made the landscape slick and slippery. Perhaps the road would've been a better choice but that was hindsight. Row with the oars you got, as the saying went.
Walking on foot and at the head of the small group was the youngest member of the shieldguard. A handsome and strapping youth of just 19 summers old, Jalen was his name. Proven skill and in possesion of an easy charm that had endeared him to the group. It had been his turn to take point and he had done so without complaint and whistled as he took in the vista that was Luria at autumn.
Life was snatched from him before he ever could prevent it. From a nearby and ancient oak lept a corpse with unnatural agility. Bleak and color stolen blond hair hung wildly down its shoulders and revealed patches of rotten skin on its skull where hair no longer inhabited its head. Jalen's body crunched and collapsed under the impact as the undead monstrosity landed feet first on his shoulders. Ribs breaking and bursting outwards as they failed to absorb the force. Blood bursting from under the armor where it could and making of his upper torse a deformed mess.
''To Arms!'' The scar riddled sergeant's voice boomed through the thinning mist. ''On me! Shieldguard!'' Aldrakar's voice joined his. The sound of Lurian steel being drawn from sheathes and mailed boots crunching dead leafs underfoot. As the men formed on their commander did their enemy reveal themselves. Not a singular unnatural foe had ambushed them but with him where others. From the foilage, brown and nebulous appeared over 2 dozen skeletal warriors.
With flesh long gone from their bones the rattle of their age worn and battered armor filled the air as they rushed the huddled group of men. Supernatural shrieks were born from tongueless mouths as the undead charged. The few moments before impact saw Aldrakar's men exchange worried glances and tiny beads of cold sweat form on their faces. Would they soon join the ranks of the unliving was their unspoken question.
In a clash of bone and steel and flesh did the two unbalanced forced crash together. The 6 men a rock engulved by a wave of chipped swords, decayed axes and grabbing skeletal hands. Worn symbols and icons displayed that were hardly recognizable and lost to time. With an upward swipe of his sword wielded in a two handed grip did Aldrakar smash off the head of an udead warrior. The man next to him covered his side with his shield and caught two undead of his own. One he grazed with a stab and the other clung onto his shield. To the living it was clear, they would loose and die. Too many, to few of them.
Voices carried through the mist and shouts of alarm could be heard. Aldrakar could spare them no attention as he fought for his life. The blade in his hand a poor mimicry of his trusted flaming broadsword. Cold and bony hands sought him out and grapped at him from all angles. He shouted his defiance and pushed his body to its limits. Every ounce of strength used to wrest free and fight!
Skeletal hands receded for a moment. Lifeless heads turned away from the small clump of dying men. A new threat was posed to the Bone Walkers. From a short distance away, if you were stood on a higher vantage point that is, there were the Madigan Guard. Militia men counting roughly the same number as the Undead. Equally split between ranks of archers and swordsmen.
Valiantly did they enter the fray. Their blades held high as they stormed to aid the embattled noble.
Hessir, a man Aldrakar had known for 2 years. A veteran of the sieges and battles of Nebel Island, Jumped in front of a spearhead poised to rob Aldrakar of life. Giving his own in his stead. ''Hessir! No!'' Tears welled in Aldrakar's eyes as he chopped at the spear and saw the flimsy wood shatter under the assault. Hessir groaned with pain as the spearhead was no longer wielded by an undead but instead was driven deeper by the force of Aldrakar's blow. The price of impulse.
The undead turned nearly entirely towards the militia as their assumed leader, the Leaper, shrieked unnatural tones that caused grown men to wet themselves and wish for the mothers. This respite allowed Aldrakar to back out, to run. Finding himself and 1 other man still able to fight they saw at their feet all their brothers in arms. Fallen, dead or close to it. ''Help me!'' Aldrakar snapped with vehemence to the sole remaining soldier as he put his sword away and heaved one of the wounded to his feet. Together they managed to extract 3 of the wounded and themselves. The militia was to be their salvation, brave common guards. The day was won but victory is a sweet word only when free of loss.
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Hey everyone! After the battle in Thar Gortauth Aldrakar was invited to meet the Emperor of Luria Nova in Shinnen Purlieus. A townslands just outside the city of Shinnen. It was the personal Lordship of the Emperor and naturally Aldrakar obeyed the summons of his Sovereign Ruler.
Arrival in Shinnen Purlieus
The last 6 hours were better. They had found the road again and with it safety. The hours before the last 6 were dark. Hessir had been left behind. The man had jumped in front of a spear that would've delivered a mortal wound to Aldrakar. A wound he had taken instead and not recovered from. Forced by circumstance had his body been left in the wake of the retreat. There were just too many undead and too little time or strength to carry him.
Of the 7 soldiers that were alive yesterday, Aldrakar including, only 4 remained today. Jalen the youth, Hessir and Gorrick dead. The price of security, war or whatever you wanted to call it, their shades were in a better place now one could only hope.
The day was beginning to warm again as the sun bathed the autumn landscape around Shinnen Purlieus in its light. A short and restless night was spend on the road and Aldrakar looked worse for wear. Mild pockets under his eyes and his hair unruly. He licked his dry lips as his hand went to a small waterskin suspended from his belt. Taking a swig from the watered down ale that it contained did he take in the sight of the town-land before him.
Thin trails of woodsmoke rose from many of the chimneys and the orange glow of the rising sun made it all look so peaceful. Finishing the swig with a rub of his sleeve across his mouth Aldrakar belted the waterskin again. ''Only a small hour now until we can get a decent meal.'' He attempted to make it sound encouraging but probably failed judging by the looks of the 3 other soldiers.
That small hour felt like an age as tired legs laboured to bring the battle weary men to the settlement. Some particularly early waking peasants nodded to the small group of armed men but made sure to stay well away, you never know. A lone verminator dog prowled the streets and fiercely barked at spotted prey as he gave chase. Aldrakar led his group towards the local residence of the Emperor, Shinnen Purlieus was after all the private lordship of the Emperor.
With crumpled parchment in hand did they arrived somewhere late morning. The note had summoned him to this place and by invitation of the Emperor. Aldrakar had no idea what the meeting was to be about though. As much as he was curious he still felt sharp loss at the deaths of Hessir and Jalen. He would mourn them when duty permitted, if fate allowed him to be that strong.
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Hey again! The Rp created with the Player of Lucini Talratheon of Giask continued. There were a few more private Rp's send. Mostly character to character but this one I shared with the entire realm. Basically Lucini got pregnant, went into labor and her secretary send a short letter informing Aldrakar of this. He at the time was to meet the Emperor and did. Followed by him taking a ship from Shinnen Purlieus to travel to Askileon to refit, or is he?
Gentle waves
The ship had set sail from Shinnen Purlieus harbor. It was a small cargo ship, it was the only one available at short notice. Aldrakar had decided not to disrupt civilian life by commandeering a different ship and instead paid for passage. Fortunately the captain of the ''Coin Casket'' was quite happy with such esteemed a passanger as the Imperial Marshal. The stocky man had harried Aldrakar with praise and questions unstoppable.
Until a certain war ravaged sergeant told the man to back off in a tone that left absolutely nothing to question what would happen if he didn't. Being a weak spined merchant the man naturally made up a feeble excuse to move off, the result was the same though, peace and quiet.
The Euschean Sea was blessedly calm today. Its the body of water that lies at the center of Luria Nova. It connects the cities of Shinnen, Giask and Askileon and opens up to the ocean that holds the D'haran Isles. Seated on a stool and with a breakfast tray on his lap Aldrakar did his best to pen letters that he could send ahead as soon as the ship moored again. The rays of sunlight only negated in their warmth by the cold autumn breeze.
To the Secretary of Lady Lucini,
Hours have passed and even a day but no further messages did reach me. What has happened?! Inform me of her status, the child and her health. Do this without reservation and hold back no content of news, no matter how shocking or absurd. I need to know she is alright.
Is it a boy? How does he look? What colour is his hair and does he have all his fingers and toes? Did he cry when he came into the world? You must record all this and more for me. You must.
Let her know that she is on my mind and that I personally attempt to blow additional air into the sails of this ship upon which I find myself pressently if only it would move a little faster.
Only the most skilled of medicae are to tend to her and the baby. Be it a girl let Lucini know that I am not disappointed or feel wronged. She may not carry my sons in the future but still she would be a star on my Heaven. Remember not to share the content of this letter with anyone but Lucini herself. I am not a violent man but ask you upon your honor to respect my wishes.
With respect,
Aldrakar regularly had to brush aside a strand of sun-kissed, blond hair from his face as the breeze conspired to obscure his vision as he wrote. The gentle sway of the ship as it traversed the waters of the inland sea captured in the flow of the letters as they were penned. Upon completion Aldrakar sanded the letter with a fine beige sediment he had acquired before departure. The beaches of Shinnen were pristine indeed. With practised hand he rolled the parchment up and sealed it away in a scroll-container.
Looking out over the innocent and small whitecaps that crested the waves for as far as the eye could see did Aldrakar imagine the face of his baby boy or girl, whatever fate had bestowed upon him.
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Back again! This time with a short RP about Aldrakar visiting Giask. He was support to stay and help and etc but Monsters rose and called him away! Duty and not Love or Life.
The Quick Stop
The ferry was crammed with soldiers. Men of predominantly dark, oaken brown or simply black hair. Sun kissed skin and fairly tall as befits Lurian stock. The inland sea was kind again today. Few waves and less disturbances but with enough wind to keep a steady pace. Naturally the captain was pleased to be done with this trip, having over one hundred, bored soldiers on your ship was never a good thing.
Giask's harbor waited patiently for them and looked inviting as the sea barriers stretched out into the dark waters like spreading arms, ready to embrace. Sea gulls flew overhead and heralded the entry of the ferry that flew the colors of the Imperial Marshal. This of course ensured preferential service and made things go that much more smoothly as the ship disgorged its cargo of warriors.
''Be back at nightfall, you lot will sleep on the boat!'' Came the stern voice of the aged sergeant that was ever in Aldrakar's employ. The men had been told before but it wouldn't hurt to tell them again. This was only a brief visit, their presence was requested by the Lord Vice-Marshal Zajar of Sun Hall. It was Aldrakar's intent to stay a few days but his visit would have to be cut short in favor of duty, always duty.
With the 4 men alloted to be his personal guard that day did he mount a simple hunter horse that was provided to him by the dockmaster and set out towards the Talratheon estate, palace really. The city was recovering well but he saw ample of occations where he couldn't put his men to good use, sadly that wasn't to be. Monsters needed culling and swords were needed in Sun Hall. Aldrakar closed his vision to the city and kept his gaze on the residence of his love, the gleaming palace of Giask.
Word has it that Aldrakar was admitted with little problem or delay. He acted rather familiar with the servants of theTalratheon estate and they in turn were rather tight lipped about what the Imperial Marshal was doing or where he went. Rumor had it that the Lady Lucini had given birth to sons. Not one but more! Some claim this is a load of horse !@#$, she is a stone statue that deals in death, not life. Persistant the rumors remain however and when the Imperial Marshal was spotted again at the docks of Giask he wore a broad smile and seemed in the very best of spirits. Makes one wonder nay..?
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Hey there! The previous RP was to the realm and for all to see. This is what I send to the Player of Lucini Talratheon. So I wrote 2 Rp's. One for the public eye and one for the private eye. Not sure if this will lead to anything but I felt it would be fun to create this little dynamic. Enjoy!
Servants and Heralds
In halls just outside her chamber voices could be heard. They mixed, one overpowered the other and then a chuckle followed by some other men. One in particular was passionate and full of fire, it sounded familiar in a way.
The door opened and closed, a servant hurried in his cheeks red with exertion or anger. Taking a meagre two gulps of air before he continued he spoke ''Mistress Lucini, I am terribly sorry to disturb you but the Imperial Marshal, his Lordship Renodin insisted on nearly breaking down the front door!'' The man's voice nearing a squeel at the end of his sentence. His little hands balled into fists he straightened his back as he continued. ''This is most unseemly behavior. I shall have him thrown out instantly! With your permission of course M'lady.'' At this the servant bowed deeply but didn't quite stop spewing words. Softly he mumbled on ''Damn that impertinent rascal. If only he hadn't brough along those other ruffians of his. Pushing around servants and barging through the hallways of Talratheon estate!''
Patiently the Servant waited for his Mistress to respond. The noise in the hallway ever growing louder as the group of men drew closer. A soft grating sound of metal ringmail mingled with heavy footfalls of undoubtedly armoured boots and the flutter of fabric, likely capes.
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Here is the RP written by the player of Lucini Talratheon. As always its quality stuff and rich in detail which always makes me wonder what I could've added in previous Rp's! Damn it hehe.
Lucini was laid in bed, wearing nothing more than a black chemise, the blanket risen high to her chest with her arms tucked over. the room had been sealed off for the exception of a single window that could allow. The rest of the room was lit with braziers and candlelight she was weakened from blood loss yet was unable to sleep and instead looking to the boys she birthed laying in their bassinets at the side of her grand bed. Beside the them in a chair sat the slumbering wet nurse. Lucini smiled sweetly when the door opened and closed and the servant approached, her half lidded green eyes looking to him in tired curiosity.
"What i.." She said out in a whispered voice, not that she was attempting to whisper but in fact she was unable to speak loudly as all having worn out her voice in the previous days. She finally raised a hand silencing the man and gesturing him closer, as she whispered to him "You bid him entrance.. or I will have your flesh flayed from your body, and hand your corpse from the city walls." She looked to the servant with a weak gaze, however those who knew of her knew she didn't joke when it came to her duties of 'death'. She was infamous for being quite ruthless when the time came.
She watched the servant bow and cower away leaving the room, as she tried to move to make her self look more presentable but failing after she attempted to sit up but fail and merely laid there. Her hair was sweat dampened, his skin pale (as usual), her body feverish and she looked weaker than the sons she bore. She snapped her fingers to the wet nurse who pretended to sleep through the servant's presence but opened her eyes and stood up. Lucini gesture to the door with her hand as the wet nurse got the messages and tucked the babes in a bit more and made sure they were breathing and alright before bowing slightly to her lady and leaving. Now just to wait for Aldrakar to come in she supposed..
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Naturally it was my turn again and I hope I did the occation justice. It was fun to write but hard to capture the words and emotions if not ambiance that formed in my mind. Aldrkar seeing his 2 sons for the first time. Neither which he named himself.
Long delayed reunion
As the servant shuffled out of the room, the threats of death and pain sprouting vivid images in his mind. The door quietly closed behind him as he exited. A roar of manly laughter came from the other side. Voices not familiar to the Talratheon estate. Some friendly jibes were made and then Aldrakar's voice, a bit more commanding than usual. Snickers died away and the door opened to admit a single person entry.
The swish of mail armour dampened only by a heavy fabric tabard. Polished gloves likewise of mail hung from a thick and plated belt. Close by was of course the sheath that held a quality sword and from the shoulder suspended was the rich brown cape that proudly sported the heraldry of Aveston. The single window of the room allowed for little breeze but it was sufficient for now to supply fresh air and doubled as an agent to carry the scent of a man of war deep into the chamber. Aldrakar had made effort to be more presentable however, the ship he had arrived in was extensively used for bathing, hair combing and all that stuff, even nail cleaning!
He scanned the room and found his legs carry him towards the grand bed that held Lucini. The floor resonating the foortsteps and the clang of metal covered boots announcing him like crass trumpeteers. ''Lucini..?'' The word inflated with wonder, some question and with an undertone of concern. She usually was quite regal and present. Making his way to the bedside he looked down upon her withered features. Worry marking his face heavily as he bend down over towards her and placed a kiss on her lips and a hand on her cheek. Both to reassure her of his authenticity and take a measure of her condition. His hand registering a small furnance ensnared in her cheeks. ''You look worse than me after fighting fangbeasts of Thar Gorthauth.'' He said with a smirk followed with a wink.
Looking over to the Bassinet Aldrakar rose again and walked gingerly towards it. His face as radiant as the sun in mid summer, eyes filled with marvel and his feet as rooted to the spot as an ancient oak. There lay both his son's, Aldrakar the 2nd and Asher. Little tufts of blond hair covering their heads and where Aldrakar the 2nd was sound asleep did Asher inquisitively look at Aldrakar the 1st with little emeralds for eyes. Aldrakar reached down to Asher's face and gently stroked his cheek with index and midle finger.
Returning to Lucini's side did he take a seat near her on the bed and let his hand wander to intertwine with her's. Damning the bedsheets and bringing ruin to fine cloth with his armor but it did little to stir guilt in him. He eased against the wall against which the bed stood and sat there with his woman. In the room that held his family.
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Anyone knows what happened to the Renodin family? I can't seem to find Aldrakar, or any trace of his family anywhere.
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He quit/stepped back from BM some weeks (over a month?) ago. :(
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That is a crying shame. :(
And here I was looking forward to RP with him when we finally meet on the battlefield. Anyone knows why he quit?
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Nothing contentious; just didn't have time to devote to it I think. His roleplays are missed by many across battlemaster.
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Ouch, long time no see. I've paused and decided life was kind enough to allow me to return. Here is the Rp I wrote to give some justification for Aldrakar's absence. Much has changed since and he will undoubtedly need to adjust a lot.
Failed Ransom
The day was warming up and the smears of blood across his tunic made it clear that he had been up to no good. A few travelers he had encountered all gave him wary looks and had evaded him. Aldrakar carefully fingered his ribs, one or two spots felt particular sore but he had to press on. -Have to get to Askileon. My men.. they were all slaughtered. I will avenge every single one of them!- The thought fueled him on as the forest still conspired to present him with yet more obstacles. Leaping over fallen and rotting trees, crossing roads of uneven cobble, evading ruffians that prowled the countryside just outside the Silver City and more.
His clothes were in tatters. Not only by natural wear and tear but also through more sinister machinations. Fresh scars had since formed on his body and they will always remind him of captivity. It was about a year ago now or was it more? Memory gets lost when nothing reminds of the passing of time. They had come in ambush, they had come with crossbows. The last of the Rendorian Shieldguard that had fought off monsters stood bravely but were mercilessly cut down by the paid professionals. That was after all what they proved to be. Paid with silver by a man that styled himself a Captain Gyves.
He was a cruel man with a taste for sadism and inflicting pain. His crew and a few local blades for hire had taken Aldrakar by surprise that one fateful, early evening. They killed off anyone and anything, simply to revel in the slaughter and did it with enviable ease. The mountains of the South Divide was where they stowed him in a dark cell of natural rock. Roughly cut and it stank of urine and other fluids of the body long before Aldrakar was ever held there.
They beat him for information, they played heart-wrenching mind-games with him and Gyves was a particular skilled knifes-man. Immense was the pleasure to see the shock in that man's eyes when his lungs failed to provide air for speech and his life was drawn from him as the dagger blade was pulled out from his chest.
Escape wasn't easy and there was quite some fighting. Cuts and bruises and perhaps a broken rib are the unspoken testimonies of those engagements but he lived, that was what mattered.
Looking at the huge and imposing gatehouse of the Silver City of Askileon Aldrakar knew a moment of hesitation. ''Lucini, it won't be long. I'll be there soon.'' The muttered words reinforced his conviction and on he pressed. His hair was dirty, unkempt and soiled. The same could be said for most of his body and even his fingertips were raw and bloody, if not broken. A piece of simple hemp rope kept rough woolen trousers up and a tattered and blood-smeared tunic clung to his sweat stained torso.
''Hold you beggar! No entry into the Silver City, Jewel of Luria for Vagrants like you!'' A guard in splint-mail imperiously yelled at him as he brandished his halberd. Several teenage boys lounging on a nearby wall were looking on in anticipation as they fully expected the beak-nosed gate-guard to give the shabby beggar a right beating. Pulling himself up to his full high Aldrakar made a visible effort to look anything like his former self. ''I am the Imperial Marshal of the Hegemony of Luria, Earl of Aveston, Trusted friend of the Former Emperor Seoras, Husband to the Imperial Conciliator Lucini Talratheon Renodin, Master of the Royal Rangers and you will not withhold me from entering the city of the Ice Queen.''
Vomit splashed freely onto the finely build stone road. The world swirled as view settled on the blue sky above and as his senses returned he felt the tang of Iron in his mouth and his ears registered a mean laughter. ''And I'm the Prophet Reborn! Bwahaha!'' The gate-guard paced around Aldrakar's prostate body and gave a vicious kick to his midriff. Aldrakar groaned, blood leaking from his nostrils and broken lower lip. ''I am he.'' Aldrakar all but wheezed. The guard called out to one of his buddies that was enjoying the show from a distance and then turned his attention back to the huddled form on the ground.
His eyes widened and his scrotum contracted as his eye fell on the ring Aldrakar held up at him. The guard swallowed hard, the insignia on the ring was unmistakable. The Office of the Imperial Marshal. ''Take me to the Palace, they will confirm my words and reward you for helping me.'' Darkness settled in as wakefulness submitted to oblivion. Aldrakar passed out and a drove of commoners passed him by and saw him as little more than scum and filth.
Later on that same day Aldrakar was being tended to by the court Physician. Mainly by administering a bath, healing salves and applying bandages. His body felt like ruin but there was hope as it also craved food like a mighty Lion! This is how Aldrakar Renodin returned to Luria Nova and the world.
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Hello again, hope you enjoyed your day so far. If you haven't and are in desperate need of a little distraction I may have got what you need.
A roleplay about Aldrakar becoming a Cavalier. Now now, don't shy. Go ahead and read, even if you had a smashing day!
Vows of Chivalry
The land was alive. Riding through the fields of the far flung lands of Santoo the thought of war could be forgotten if only for a brief moment. Nature did not bow under the heavy weight which man had put around its neck. The day was young but the sun was already determined to reach its zenith and secretly conspired to not leave it for a very long time indeed. With this promise of a light and warmth inundated day, Aldrakar had decided to try and arrive before the day became too hot yet again.
A family of ducklings was waddling through the towering blades of grass and reeds that cluttered the riverside. The life-giving waters enabling the land to blossom to its fullest. Flowers blanketed the land and every bush was fragrant. Aldrakar gently urged his horse on as he drank in the simple wonders around him and simply smiled. Today the dark thoughts would be anchored. He had not been able to locate Lucini, his wife. Not a man nor woman knew where she was it seemed.
The end of the road would be close to Falstor Manor. It was the ancient yet humble abode of his friend and also Grandmaster of the Order of the White Rose. It was situated near the very first Order Chapter house which was the finish of this particular journey. It lay not very far away now. The road led around the servant houses of the manor and then as it went uphill one could spot the chapter house when reaching its diminutive peak.
Placing a bare hand on the neck of the chestnut-brown, hunter horse Aldrakar brought it to a gradual stop. He swung a leg over the side and dropped down and instantly felt the effects of sitting too long in the saddle. ''Thanks friend'' He murmured to the horse as he scratched it behind its ear and continued with fastening its reins to a post that stood silent vigil outside the chapter house.
A young man with the countenance of a boy clad in simple grey, woolen clothes came out of the building to greet him. ''Lord Senechal Aldrakar! Its been an age M'lord!'' The youth said and finished it with a toothy smile. ''Just Aldrakar today Orbin. You know I've never stood on protocol like that.'' The gentle tone disrupted as Aldrakar jabbed playfully at Orbin's rips. He in turn blocked deftly and his martial training showed in that instance. ''Good.'' Aldrakar proffered as he looked the youth over.
Together they entered the Chapter house and their footfalls made them seem like giants as the cobble resonated and the silence amplified the sound. A small crowd was gathered in the main hall of the modest stone building. Aldrakar took his place in the center of the congregation and knelt down. Feeling a pang of loss for the absence of his Flaming Broadsword Aldrakar discovered inner resolve as he drew a steel, straight longsword instead. He held it up horizontally in front of him with both hands as if presented it to those around.
Forming the proper sentences with his mouth did he wait a moment until the last of his restlessness faded to nothing. ''Today, I, Aldrakar of the House Renodin ask you gathered here to witness my vows and acknowledge my sincerity in upholding them.'' A pleased murmur buzzed from the people gathered that were draped in cloth of various shades of grey. Orbin's face stood our from the crowd as he looked both solemn as he tried to look as dignified as some of the older men and fiercely proud as he looked at Aldrakar.
''I shall take up arms and will my body to the utmost of its limits to defend all that cannot do so themselves and to ever be a shield and guardian of the weak.
So do I vow.''
''In all my days I am still blessed to exist among the realm of the living shall I in all regards uphold justice and see it rendered on all those that shun it or use it for gain or benefit or detriment of others or those that commit crimes base and cruel.
So do I vow.''
''In my heart will I hold dear all that show kindness to me and will forever try to show that kindness to all that I may encounter. Never shall I leave a soul in the dark of night when I sit at a warm fire and neither will I stand aside as weather or man or beast would rob this virtue to be displayed from another.
So do I vow.''
''Regardless of religion, origin or situation upon which I find, all women shall I treat fairly, with honor and will defend them when any would deign to threaten them. I will hold sacred the matrimony of wedlock and observe the duty of husband should I so be entwined.
So do I vow.''
''My wrath, fury and fierce nature as a warrior I will temper and only unleash on those deserving of its devastation. The rage and the unbridled blood-lust will not consume me and I will bar my heart and mind from its temptations.
So do I vow.''
''When I utter forth into the world the words that I am able to speak they shall be laden with truth and always bereft of lies. When others do I find to spout lies it shall be my duty to correct their words and remove doubt from spoken word.
So do I vow.''
''Whenever a fellow Knight of Virtue or Cavalier or Man of Honor asks me for my assistance I shall not turn him away. Upon my honor, I shall do all that I can do to see his request fulfilled and see the greater good prevail.
So do I vow.''
Aldrakar paused a moment and locked eyes with the people that intently looked at him and listened to his words. He then carefully sheathed the blade he had held up for all this time and raised himself with dignity from the kneeling position he had been in. ''We have borne witness and accept your intent, Aldrakar, Man of Honor.'' The voices sounded like one but was in truth were that of many, all spoken almost in sync.
That marked the day that Aldrakar Renodin was accepted as a Cavalier and made his promises to the world and were now another compass by which he could judge his actions and that of others. In the recesses of his mind though, he hoped it would also be enough to soothe the pain that the loss of Lucini ushered evermore into his heart.
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Hello thar. This post will detail an RP not from me but directed at Aldrakar. I hope I have permission to post it here but I have a wee feeling I do hmm? Enjoy!
* Written by the Player of Ellyn Coquard
A chance encounter
"Miss you shouldn't be out here," the man said when Elly slammed into him. "My apologies m'lord," Elly said softly trying to put up her hood with one hand, her fiery curls tousled around her face. The solider looked her over as if he should know her, and Elly prayed that he would let her pass. Dismissing her with a wave, Elly hurried down the lane to the Inn. The man watched her leave, wondering why more woman didn't look like her, and wished he had the time to have asked her her name, but duty called. He finished his small patrol before mounting his horse and heading back the way he came.
~~~
Elly didn't breathe till she was back at the inn. The run in with the Ranger caused her heart to sit in her throat. Brushing her friend Mae aside she grabbed a piece of parchment and scribbled a note, painstaking and hopefully legibly with an almost useless hand. There was only one she could write, only one that may be able to help her. Rynn couldn't risk helping her, but she knew one that might be able to. Blurred by a few tears Elly slowly wrote the letter.
Aldrakar-
I have put myself in a bit of trouble and hope that you can help me. The silly schoolgirl in me used an opportunity to try to meet up with the Emperor, only to be tossed in a holding pen and kept captive for over a few days. I apologize now for the tears that stain this letter as they are from both a bit of heartbreak as well as pain. I fear now for my life, as Shinnen Purlieus is now back under the Lurian flag any time they could throw me in the dungeon and deport me back to the Lighthouse. I'm in no condidtion to fight anyone, and I had thought that Sholan would have been happy to see me, though perhaps he took one look at me while I was dozing, and thought I a waste of his time. Though injured, worn and beaten no one would look their best.
I don't know where else to turn at this hour, I cannot ask Rynn for help as the Lurians would slaughter him quickly. I will try to stay indoors and not make a spectacle of myself. I thought me a goner when I ran into a Ranger, but thankfully he thought me a peasant. If you can help me I would appreciate it, but I understand if you cannot. If you cannot please get word to Crown Prince Rynn, as he will need to know of my fate, whatever it might be. I have sent my bird Kleio with this letter, he will always know how to find me.
~Ellyn
Elly looked over the letter, the random droplets making the ink run in a few spots, but not important ones. Whistling for Kleio she sent off the letter, before collapsing in pain and exhaustion.
~~~
On of the Rangers made his way back to camp, telling a story about what happened in Shinnen Purlieus. He was telling how he was on patrol and a fiery red head about bowled him over. "She looked to be meek and mild," he said, thinking back to the encounter. "But she looked to be made of steelier stuff," he finished, taking a drink. "I should have asked her name but she seemed to be coming from the Emperor's camp, though she looked as if she had seen better days. Dirty and disheveled, definitely most likely not what the Emperor would go for," he all but chuckled. "She seemed to have an injured wing too, but she could still keep me company any day of the week with a bit of a bath and some finery," he said boasting to his friends.
Looking over his shoulder he wondered if Sir Aldrakar had heard anything he said. He wasn't sure about the man but was learning. A short time later a bird flew into camp, a missive around his leg. The solider chased the bird down, cursing him when the bugger nipped at his finger. "Bloody hell bird, give me the letter." Finally retrieving it he noticed it was for Aldrakar. Taking it over he cleared his throat. "Sir, a letter for you."
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Of course I had to write a reply. Its not a complete package as one would say but a Link in the chain. Perhaps I will post more in the same vein. But before I rhyme myself silly. Best get that posting part done. Have fun!
Message from a Birdie
With the struggling, little bird in one hand and offering the parchment with the other Aldrakar couldn't help but smirk. He was wearing a simple but well made suit of leather clothing. The word armor would have suited better but with the few adjustments to it resembled close enough. Traditional oaken brown mingled with blacks and cream white's made up the scheme of colors out of which it existed only to be topped with sun kissed hair that fell till his shoulders wherever it may. ''Thank you Ranger.'' Aldrakar said to the man as he accepted the parchment and unfurled it to read. Glancing back at the Ranger arguing with the bird ''set in the cage with the other messenger birds. Give it some fresh seed.'' Aldrakar motioned with a tanned hand and resumed reading.
His legs bore him away to the garden or rather practice yard of the Local Royal Rangers Guildhall. The news demanding seclusion so that he could think for a while. While his brow imitated two mountains tumbling towards one another his mind raced with the potential meanings of the small letter he held in his hands. A nearby peach tree offered shade from a warm and bright sun and at the same time settled its fragrant scent onto Aldrakar's person. ''Shinnen Purlieus..'' the word was formed and spoken without much intend and as soon as it was said Aldrakar's gaze left the parchment and stared towards a far away horizon. His thoughts forming and his resolve gaining purpose.
At a brisk pace he returned to the room where he first received Ellyn's letter and looked about for the Ranger in question. Locking eyes with the man Aldrakar spoke in a authoritative voice. ''Find a messenger to reach the Emperor this eve rather than tomorrow. Have the words spoken to his Imperial Highness that Ellyn Coquard is within our borders and that she needs our help. Upon my honor I will vouch for her if he requires it.'' The Ranger paid close attention and seemed actually happy to be given a task to preform for the man who helped build his guild. ''Furthermore'' Aldrakar looked at the man. ''Please get me a scribe and send him to the study here.'' A warm smile heralded the end of speech and the Ranger nodded emphatically. ''As you will it, Master Aldrakar.'' With that the Ranger departed with haste to undoubtedly do which he was tasked to do.
Aldrakar was seen making his way to the little study at this local Royal Rangers guild-house. A poor name for a simple room with a desk and a basic writing kit, it would do however. It would do to aid a friend.
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Mornin' its been a while again and I felt like writing a little something. This Rp will illustrate in a small way the scene in one of the border regions of Luria Nova where it borders that of her enemies. Aldrakar is meeting some friends and trying keep warm despite it being autumn! Enjoy.
The Banners of Shinnen Purlieus
The wind was picking up. Its arms ethereal but ever strong and always tugging on the world it swept through. The houses and establishments of Shinnen Purlieus were being boarded up. Many homes that stood on the outskirts of the towns were being converted into a defensible ring. Stakes driven into otherwise open roads, pointing their sharp ends outwards and promising impalement to rushing horses and men.
As soon as summer had given in to Autumn it was clear it would be a messy week. Yesterday had already brought a little amount of rain and surely tomorrow would inundate the land. The towns and roads were packed with soldiers. Greaves soiled with wet mud, armors dull of shine and oft mended a dozen times already. Tents could be found on every open space or hilltop. Banners and livery the only colorful things after the leafs that turned golden and brown.
The mood was good though, battles were getting won and it had just been payday. Every soldier liked being paid and liked it even more if he could spend that coin on beer and women. Unfortunately for them, that would have to wait. Most of the amenities that they were craving for were suspended or simply had departed long before. The lands of Sun Hall had, for some time now, been turned into a war-zone between the realms of Barca, D'hara, Luria Nova and Fissoa with the odd Asylonian mixed in.
Pacing through the thin sludge that floated over the dirt path that led to Knight Talt's encampment Aldrakar drank in the sight that was so very common nowadays. Aldrakar had donned his old armor, he had it returned to him by several loyal servants of Sun Hall. A suit of heavy leathers under a cover of splint-mail and ring-mail mesh. Bellowing behind him was his deep and rich, oaken brown cape. It was still lined with the furs of white minks and thick enough to be a shield against the mercurial weather.
Several of Sir Talt's men recognized him approach and waves merrily at him. Aldrakar had to smile, Talt was perhaps the most dutiful man he knew. Reaching the closest of the seasoned men-at-arms Aldrakar clapped his hand on the man's shoulder and exchanged a few lines that had both men grinning like teenage boys. His eyes scanned the small encampment but failed to spot Sir Talt. ''Give him my warmest of regards.'' He asked of the soldier who in turn nodded reassuringly.
With that Aldrakar walked away, the wind still attempting to chill him to the bone but thwarted by the heavy cape and heat produced by exertion. Even though the armor was build with practicality in mind it was still a bit of a chore to walk around in it. He visited the camps of several other people that day. Sir Cordun, a man ever steadfast. Sir Duer, a man one should always be happy to have on one's side in a fight. Sir Ronan, a man Aldrakar called Lord regardless of title, a fine man. Eddard, his old neighbor when he himself still ruled Sulorte and shortly stopped at the camp of Lady Sibylla. A woman more akin to combat than to any other venture.
As the day grew old and the sun already sinking away beyond the far off horizon Aldrakar felt his legs protest but he refused to remove his armor. The enemy was just beyond the boundaries of the townlands and he would be ready if it was needed. He ended his tour at Castle Madigan where he was admitted by the servants of his Grace, the Duke Hendrick.
A long day getting reacquainted with long lost friends and colleagues.
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Hey again, just a wee little Rp I wrote for a Guild Aldrkar is in. The Order of the White Rose, a place for true knights, chivalry and all that. Felt like writing something small, nice and sweet. Like a Belgian chocolate ( a Bon-Bon).
A Good Heart
Discussing training regimes with several of his new soldiers Aldrakar noticed a young man offer challenge to another. The other seemingly offended a girl. The offender had slapped her and yelled at her. The young man rushed to her aid. He helped her back on her feet and as she shuffled behind him he in turn faced the bully.
They ended up in a viscous fist fight that showed neither of them had any true skill. The bully was stronger and mashed the young man's face blue with crimson lines streaking down the corner of his mouth and from his nose. Laughing did the bully turn away and leave, the girl knelt and comforted her champion.
Aldrakar gave a look to the soldier that was talking to him and the man understood the need to stop talking. Walking over towards the couple Aldrakar pulled out his straight sword and allowed the wind to pull at his rich brown cape. ''Stand boy.'' The young man obliged naturally but winched as pain made itself known. Swirling the blade upwards with deft flair did Aldrakar place it on the young man's shoulder. ''You are now my shield bearer and I shall instruct you in the ways of war so that you may stand against all that would do harm to the innocent, do you accept?''
The young man's face lit up like the mid summer sun and the girl gasped. He agreed and that was that. A man with a good heart was rewarded and the future should prove to be a little bit more bright.
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Hey again, today I have a little more grim Rp for you to enjoy. Its a small bit of writing that was meant to set a tone. Its a warzone and been more of a wasteland for a good long while now. This Rp I wrote to accompany my character traveling from one region to the other.
Arrival in Thar Gortauth
With a northern wind guiding him from Garuck Udor Aldrakar rode at the head of a company of men. Not the Shieldguard of old but these were new men. They bore not only the sword and the shield but also the javelin and the sling. As the roads slowly turned from excellent to poor and all along its fading veins do now bodies lay in shallow graves or simply left in the ditches. The countless battles, the skirmishes between common born families. One believing in the old realm and the other in the new realm.
Rotten was the air they breathed. Popping sounds mixed with bubbling rhythm was the chorus of decomposing carcasses as they sang the song of the day, its name was death. With damp pieces of cloth the men shielded mouths and nostrils and in a solemn procession did the Rendorian Armored Skirmishers make their way to the front-lines of Thar Gortauth.
Passing a dilapidated hovel crowed with entirely too many people Aldrakar offered alms to the poor, the wretchedly poor.
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Hallo and stay a while. This here Rp I wrote in anticipation of a big battle between the realms of Fissoa and Luria Nova. Some 1255 men vs 955. Its a particular dilemma because Aldrakar has friends on both sides of the battle line. They are fighting directly for the honor of the Emperor as the Region they will be fighting in and over is the personal holding of the Emperor. Its being TO'ed by the Fissoans. Enjoy!
Before the eve of Battle
Long columns of men marched down the sloppy excuse of a road that existed between the lands called Grodno and the Imperial Holding of Outer Giask. It was the first day of winter but this far south, snow never touched the land. Birds that flew in the sky darted away as the reflected light of the hundreds of shining breastplates, helmets and unpainted shields blinded them. That very same armor would be saving lives in but a few hours from now.
Scouts darted in an out of the Luria warhost, some carrying letters but most had draw crude maps or offered guesstimates on the number of Fissoan's they were about to face. Last Aldrakar heard the Fissoan's outnumbered the Lurians 4 to 3, odds that gave him enough cause to worry. He tried not to show it to the men but they struggled with very similar problems. They laughed without merit at the jokes of their comrades and fussed over the smallest of things. These were not boys, these were grown men.
The recurring jolt of inspiration came in the form of army sergeants reminding the men that at least they had bellies full of food and never had to fight on an empty stomach! Something the enemies of Luria couldn't always claim! or so the sergeants insisted. Aldrakar studied the faces of his men and saw that it had little effect. He moved closer to their lines and marched with them. It was the least he could do and pretty soon he would be standing next to them when the storm of violence plucked them from life. One last honor to them when peace still reigned.
''Sir, do you think we can win the coming battle?'' Came that most dreaded of questions from an old veteran. His left eye milky and his face as crumpled as forgotten parchment. The man looked calm enough but nonetheless licked his lips in anticipation. Aldrakar looked him in the eye for a moment and gave a different answer than the one their eyes communicated to one another. ''We can. All we need to do is throw 3 javelins at the start of the battle, rush forwards when the arrow-clouds come our way and defend the streets the infantry take once we get into the town itself. Think you can manage that?'' Aldrakar's feeble attempt at levity. To his surprise was he greeted by chuckling and laughter from all the men that had overheard. A hard smile decorated his face for a while as he thought: that's the fear of battle laughing.
The rest of the morning was spend in much the same way. Hard marching and trying to comfort each other as they inched ever closer to the beast that was known as battle. Most of it Aldrakar spend being in a bad mood. There was no avoiding it. Soren and Evelyn would be there and possibly friends of theirs. Duty, friendship, killing , what was to take precedence, who could tell?
Aldrakar spend his time trying to figure out a way to fulfill both his duty and not kill any friends. Unfortunately for him, that was a paradox that would stay with him until the moment battle was joined.
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Hey again! double trouble it seem. I wrote a second but smaller Rp. This one is more on the religious side of things as Aldrakar attempts to garner some divine favor hehe.
Roadside Shrine
With the passing of morning and time every bringing fateful moment closer at hand did Aldrakar pause at a roadside shrine. It was an ancient looking thing. The stone eaten away by decades of rain and wind and moss. The small alcove was still functional though as a rain-shelter and it seemed as if at least someone still cared for it, albeit very infrequently.
Brushing aside some of the foliage he uncovered the worn symbols of the bloodstars. They looked out of place in way. This land is were this particular faith split in two and again it was a choice between friends. Why did the world always conspire to burden him with such choices. Kneeling down before the main altar Aldrakar said a few verses of the sacred texts. In the distance the trudging sound of a hundred hundred boots called to him. They would have to wait.
Rising to his feet he moved closer to the alter itself. Produced from his pocket, he placed 5 silver coins on the rough stone surface and smiled as he saw how an old root kept some of the masonry together. ''Watch over all of my friends that will attempt to do what is right and in the process take friends from friends.'' With that done he turned away from the near ruinous shrine and strode back to the marching army.
If the stars favored him he would not loose too many of them in the near future.
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Hey everyone! Wall of text awaits you! 4 consecutive Rp posts were needed Ingame to deliver this battle report RP. Luria Vs Fissoa. Enjoy!
The Battle for Outer Giask
Two large armies stood sentinel as they watched the sun depart the land and left the world in twilight before night could claim dominance. One war host was Fissoan, led by several marshals and of course their Prince at Arms and in among their ranks, a wounded King. It was they that were the defenders, dug in and flanked by numerous barricades. As light left the world so did color and all the bright banners turned to shades of grey and ash.
Opposing them and standing out in the field stood a war host of Lurian born. They too were led by marshals and they too had their Imperial Marshal with them. There were several Kings and even the Emperor himself, even though this came as no surprise. Any man would defend his own home and that was exactly what he was doing. Just another man ready to fight and not there to command.
After long marching and having to witness, first hand, the devastation visited upon the border lands it was with determination that the Lurians looked on to the invaders. There were some voices that called for blood but they were surprisingly few compared to the battles Aldrakar had experiences with D'hara and Barca. His own unit of men stood at the ready. They knew their place was with the archer lines and if Aldrakar was honest with himself, he didn't much like it. ''We'll stick it to 'em Sirrah!'' one of his more ugly soldiers proffered ''Stick it to 'em good!'' The man motioned menacingly with a javelin. Aldrakar managed a hard smile ''Yes.. we will.''
Crickets and night creatures made the tall grass rustle, hundreds of lanterns illuminated the encampments. Each with their own cluster of fireflies and moths assaulting it, much like men would be doing soon. Aldrakar slapped at a mosquito which had landed on his neck. Checking the palm of his hand to see if he had killed it. He found a dark crimson droplet that was all splattered, with tiny wings mixed in. Taking a deep breath he wiped his hand on his surcoat, a little extra gore wouldn't matter.
The Lurian forces started to come alive as the soldiers were arrayed in battle formations and lines were being formed. The Fissoan's must have noticed, it is a hard thing to hide even when its dark. A veritable exodus of warriors saw the encampment all but abandoned. Knights were flanked by shield bearers, Lord by cadre's of bodyguards and sergeants surrounded by fighting men. A sea of torches marked their passing and large braziers roared their flames up at the sky as they stood as markers on the field.
The foot soldiers, the infantry deployed not too far ahead of the archers and mixed infantry that stood together. The various types of special forces also had decided to stand with the archers and but a single unit of cavalrymen held position at the far flank of them again. Aldrakar was given overall command of the Lurian Home Guard. He may have only been a Vice-Marshal again, but in the absence of the Lord Marshal Saul the task fell onto him. Most of the older Lurians remembered his name and little was actually required of him at this advanced stage. A few runners were send to the Lords and Knights to assure them of a loose formation and to adhere to the overall strategy.
Strapping on his helmet and securing his mailed gloves did Aldrakar take up position in the center of the Archer lines. When it came to it, he would rush forwards and be among the last defenders of the men without armor. In his heart he yearned to stand in the front row and be with the first to exchange blows. His page blanched as the boy saw Aldrakar clench his first around the pommel of his sword. Glancing back at the boy he said ''Calm yourself, today you will no longer be a boy.'' He peered at the Fissoan position before continuing. ''You've done well at weapons training Marc. If you wish it, you may accompany me into battle. Remember however, that this decision can be fatal and thus your last.'' Turning slowly to the 10 odd year boy Aldrakar had obviously already made up his mind but it was good if the boy did as well. Marc tried to steel himself but dry lips and involuntary quivers betrayed him. Placing a noticably heavy mailed hand onto Marc's shoulder Aldrakar smiled to the boy as he looked down at him. ''Fear is never wrong Marc, it tells you that you still love life and will be a better warrior than the one who wishes death.'' Unable to help himself Aldrakar chuckled softly and threw a look back at the encampment. ''I need you to safeguard the donkey's Marc, they are vital to the army.'' Pauzing a moment he let the words sink in. ''Make sure none of them run away and that none are stolen. Understand?'' Marc nodded vigorously and bowed ''I won't let any filthy Fissoan get near them!'' He all but peeped. "There are no such Fissoans here tonight Marc. Only warriors and men doing their duty.'' He gave the boy a stern look that ended with a wink. ''Go now!'' He made a mock swipe with his arm that saw Marc dart off like an arrow.
With the final preparations over with and both forces ready to begin their clash it was time to close the gap. Ugly brass horns cut through the night to signal the beginning and were succeeded by elegant trumpets in honor of the Emperor and his most exalted vassals. Which in turn were followed by a steady beat of drums ready to make drones out of the soldiers as they dictated the pace. Lord Imperial Marshal Aylwin stood near the right flank of the Archer line. Aldrakar couldn't spot him from this distance and neither saw his banners but knew his friend was somewhere there, inspiring men to greater heights. He looked to the men around him and saw that they all looked at him, even those not of his own unit.
''What are you all looking at? You know what comes next and what is expected of you.'' He drew his sword and let its shimmer in the torchlight as he held it up. ''Make sure you don't need to use this! They have more swordsmen than us and as you can feel, there is a lot of wind.'' He stepped out of the line and faced them. ''I am Aldrakar Renodin, you know my name and I have stood in every position of the chain of command and hear me when I tell you. There is nothing but virtue when you face your opponent. No strategy, no tactic, no brotherhood. It is you and your quality against that of the man or woman you face. It is your virtue against theirs.'' He pointed the sword at the Lurian soldiers. ''If you use this to save a fellow soldier it is your virtue bestowed upon them and for all to witness. Let it shine like the moon that will look upon you when the evening grows old!''
Some men cheered, some were silent and some were starting up at the dark sky where the moon was making her entry. Giving Aldrakar's words something spiritual and made the men aware of not only their moral duties.
Shortly after the Lurian War host started to move in orderly fashion towards the Fissoan position. They in turn had prepared defenses more based on depth rather than spread. They had a clearly distinguished infantry line that had dug in and behind that stood their lines of archers and cavalry. As it was neither side had opted to use fortifications and the only defenses available to the Fissoans were trenches, palisades and barricades. Make no mistake however, these things are more precious than gems when faced with arrows.
As the nightingales sang in the trees and the frogs that croak after dark made their presence known so did the anger of man. Marching a short distance Aldrakar ordered a halt and to have hunting bows strung. His men went about it with practiced ease and with the comfort or friendly lines before them. The first tactical move was unveiled as the Lurian infantry, outnumbered that fateful eve, filled out from the vast line of Lurian combatants. In quick pace did they form a solid and rigid line of shields, spears and swords that took up the center of the field. The ground was hard enough and blessedly clear of holes and rocks.
''Notch Arrows! Take aim!... Loose!'' Called the various sergeants and lieutenants. Swarms upon swarms of both lit and unlit arrows sped through the dark sky and fell in among the Fissoan defenders who were wise to keep heads down and shields up. Unbeknownst to Aldrakar had he given order to target the Royal Battalion of King Waldor of Fissoa in the opening phases of the battle. It was after all the largest, cohesive unit of enemy infantrymen. The Lurian infantry made a slow advance and were content to let it rain death upon the Fissoans. They in turn hunkered down and possibly ground teeth as screams erupted from their ranks.
It did not remain one side for long and soon the arrows bumped against arrows as their sailed high through the air. Lurian soldiers were being struck but miraculously nowhere near as hard as the Fissoans. For some unknown reason 3 incredibly brave Fissoan Nobles had urged their men forwards and ahead of their main battle line. They stood shoulder to shoulder and died that way. Not having struck a single blow with a sword nor with the lance but those three Nobles were left with pincushions in but moments. As it proved to be later on, it were actually 2 Fissoans and 1 Asylonian.
With the Lurian Infantry edging closer and feeling emboldened with the apparent gift presented to them did the battle grow in intensity. Aldrakar's skirmishers unleashed a volley onto a target he would have rather skipped. The banner of the Silver Swords was not really visible but the order was to target the larger blobs of men. That is exactly what his Skirmishers did. Sleek arrows dove into Soren's ranks and Aldrakar wished he had the eyes of a young eagle but could do nothing.
The Infantry lines roared their defiance and fear at one another. Weapons banged on shields and a terrible noise that stays with a man for an age and then some if ever he is exposed to it. The thunder of hooves was masked by this noise. The Riders of Lady Marshal Evelyn, the Queen of Fissoa charged home and rode down in reckless abandon an entire line of Lurian infantry. Marking at least half a dozen Lurian units and bleeding a double number of their men. Her sword was seen as earth bound lightning, flashing across the front line.
Answering this call was Lord Ronan, his Divine Chargers smashed into Fissoan soldiers that had eagerly emerged from their defensive works to rush to the aid of their Queen. It seemed a contest who could deliver more shock and awe but to those who had to face them, they were like terrible gods reaping souls. Both nobles were pulled down from their horses and had to fight for dear life. Remarkably both battled their ways out of the clutches of their enemies with heads raised high and blood washing them in glory.
Aldrakar looked on with a stone in his stomach as he saw Evelyn go down but felt relieve as he saw her emerge but bloodied. ''More arrows men! There are still opponents running about!'' He quickly brought himself back to the reality of things. Not realizing that he never sheathed his sword and still carried it in his hand.
As the Melee became a place of murder and dark chaos nobles were felled in droves. His Majesty, King Idesbald of Moon Hall took several arrows before he was forcefully taken from the battle by his own men. Marshal Taran Dallben of the Edreun, Niselurian Lurians was literally showered in arrows. That the man survived was an outright miracle as over 80 arrows littered his person, still crying his defiance.
It would seem the Emperor Sholan had his eyes on the Admiral of the Southern League and it were his archers that found the Prince at Arms Soren. The man vanished from sight of Aldrakar as countless arrows rained down upon his location. Never to emerge again, at least to the vision of Aldrakar.
The Fissoan Sally, if you could call it that, was devastating. Their superior amount of infantry crushed the Lurian armsmen. Fortunately the Lurian ranged battle was proving to be the equalizer. Brutal fighting was visited upon all outside of Outher Giask that night. Limbs were cleft from torso and blood was thrown and descended from the heavens as hundreds of arms made chopping motions.
It was over relatively quickly, in the span of less than an hour was the Lurian infantry beaten. Not shattered perhaps as they retreated early but their fair share was annihilated. In turn the Fissoan line was bloodied and taking continuous hits from the Lurian archers. It was here that utter courage was shown or perhaps utter insanity. Lord Zajar of Luria rushed to the fore. Holding up his own banner did the man take the point and made his men, some 3 dozen, follow him. They unsheathed simple blades and carried small shields. Not truly infantry and neither archer.
''Men! hear me! Shoulder bows and ready for melee!'' Aldrakar screamed at the top of his lungs. He wanted to be there with him but knew already that he would be too late. Like a caged hound did he inch forwards and then again back. His eyes were wide and his sword powerless as he looked on and saw Lord Zajar take on the Prince at Arms himself! A massacre! Soren beats Zajar but both were forced to retreat. Arrows the cause of one, too many blades the other.
The King Waldor too was forced to leave the battle as his men were being picked off by seeking arrows and his own failing health. At least so it seemed to Aldrakar. Was this it? No more Infantry on either side and Archers exchanging long ranged death?
As the last remnants of swordsmen and axemen are mercilessly killed off do the arms of bowmen burn with effort but are urged on to settle this matter, once and for all. With great heaves and with screeching arrows falling onto lightly armored opponents do the Lurian forces steadily overwhelm the Fissoans. During this time is Lord Imperial Marshal Aylwin forced to exist the battle. His men exhausted and with numerous losses. Aldrakar saw the enemy was shaky and couldn't wait anymore. This was not true battle. He wouldn't let others keep on dying while he stood at a distance.
Marching together with another Lurian Noble did they make way for the center of the battlefield. They instantly became the focal point of the remaining Fissoan archers. This drew fire away from Lurian archers and cemented the victory perhaps, it diverted losses rather than anything else. Naturally did Aldrakar's small force not withstand the Fissoan barrage and had to retreat as well.
The evening grew silent somewhere halfway towards dawn and had seen the Fissoan combined army defeated by the Lurian War host. Massive amounts of casualties and the dead would rot where they lay for there were too few hands to carry or bury them all. Aldrakar looked down at his armor and saw only the blood of others upon it. Flashes of the battle shot through his mind and fueled by them did he rush towards the battlefield. Running like a madman did he try and check the bodies of the fallen. He tried to remember where he had seen Soren and Evelyn fall. Where he saw Idesbald sag to the ground and where so many others he knew.. or had known? got struck down.
The main Lurian host delivered pursuit as the Fissoan attempted an organized retreat. And thus was it that the Imperial Lurian Seat of the Emperor Sholan was defended from the Fissoan Combined Armies.
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Back again, it seems its Rp hotness all around. People writing a lot of good stuff and I am an entirely enjoying myself. Next up is an Rp about Aldrakar Interacting with the Fissoan Army.
A White Banner
Walking through the Lurian encampment Aldrakar saw the horrors that the dark of last night had obscured. With a cold touch to the wind and grey skies promising rain did he make his way past the rows of tents housing the wounded, the dying and some of the dead. Many grim faced healers or medicae wore dark rings under their eyes from exhaustion and stress.
Screams ripped through the tents and canvas yet again proved a poor insulator. The wet grinding noise that came from the secluded areas sent a shiver up his spine. Amputations. Rubbing his face with a dirty hand Aldrakar tried to dispel his queasiness. His eyes locked on his hand for a short moment, his mind thanking the gods he never lost a limb to the bone-saw. He had not slept much and had cleaned himself with watered down wine. The alcohol would clean some of the smaller cuts and while it also aided him in staying awake. It stung.
His armor was a filthy mess. More brown than any other color. Just as much the cause of mud as it was of caked blood and never drying sweat. He had removed his mailed gloves and his helm was bobbing from his belt. Striding past yet another tent filled with the wounded, his eyes did not detect any familiar faces. He raked his fingers through his coppery hair and fiddled with a dried clod of dirt and blood that had taken up residence there. He threw it to the ground when he managed to dislodge it.
The men in the camp had churned the land into a paste and little brooks had appeared where the bodily fluids couldn't be absorbed by the earth no more. It at least offered an easy trail to follow. The crimson, reeking water... water?
Spending an hour or so trying, checking the wounded both friend and foe Aldrakar felt sullen but somewhere also relieved. Though there were many wounded, he knew very few of them in person. Taking a moment to himself he produced a short missive from the Fissoan King and eyed its 2 frank lines. He nodded to himself and pushed the small parchment back under his armor. His feet brought him to a small enclosure of barrels where some of the healthy men had attempted to create an escape. Rough laughter and empty skins and kegs of ale were all about. Aldrakar let them be, his hands only reached for a banner that sported a length of white cloth. It was in essence an unused Banner ready to take the crest of a nobleman but it would do fine in its current state.
He marched in a brisk pace back to his own tent and was welcomed by his page, Marc. The boy had eyes too few as he tried to drink in all that happened around him. Aldrakar paid him no heed and went straight for his own banner. He drew a dagger from his belt and cut the heavy piece of cloth that marked his own crest free from its stand. With some skill he then tied it to the White banner. His crest just below that of the white crest, secured with hemp rope and a leather strap. ''Aldrakar..?'' Came the soft voice of Marc as he tried to comprehend what it was his master was doing. ''Fetch my horse Marc, do it now.'' Came the brisk reply. The boy of 10 summers rushed out of the tent at once and did as he was told.
Testing the makeshift banner for strength Aldrakar felt satisfied at this new contraption. His eyes wandered across the room that was his personal tent and fell upon his shield. He would be needing that he thought and so he moved to picked it up. A heavy thing. It was a heater-shield but iron always weighed much. Best used on horseback and as it happened to be. That was exactly his intended mode of transport.
Shield and double banner in hand did Aldrakar walk out of his tent and noticed the first droplets fall from the heavens. Perhaps the gods were now kind enough to wash away the muck and grime created last night. Perhaps even their eyes watered at the sight of it and wished it gone.
Marc brought up a fine looking, dark brown coated hunter horse. Not quite a heavy war horse but with plenty of speed in it should the situation require it. Aldrakar took the reigns after shouldering his heater-shield and mounted up. Some of his men had gathered and by instinct had prepared to move with their commander. ''At ease. You will not be joining me for this ride.'' Registering surprise on their faces Aldrakar continued. ''Something I have to do by myself, see to your friends. Sit at their sides and offer them comfort before they depart this world. I'm sure all of you will have comrades being visited by the healers as we speak. Go to them and I will go to mine.'' With that he urged the horse on with his heels.
The beast responded quickly and Aldrakar was glad for the beast's good training. His men looked after him but the sergeant soon reminded them of Aldrakar's suggestion. Bless that man Aldrakar thought.
Riding through the camp eyes fell upon him and men called out his name in questioning tones. Why was the Lord Vice-Marshal riding alone with the double banner? They were not told as Aldrakar only manouvered his mount through the maze of people until he exited out into the battle field. The place very much still looked like that. Corpses, looters, scribes taking tally of the dead and noting down crests on thick parchments. Aldrakar rode past them and felt joy at the feeling of freedom it gave him.
Soon he came close to his intended destination. The Fissoan encampment had seen much activity. They were beaten and it seemed their leaders had opted to leave rather than stay for another battle. A wise choice Aldrakar conceded. Moving closer he felt a familiar, inner voice whisper to him. It teased him with potential. It spoke of unseen arrows. It hinted at an early grave. He tried not to give in to that voice too much and simply lowered his shield so that he wore it on his arm.
This shieldarm also sported the hand that held his reins as the other held firmly the double banner. A white crest on top and the Rendorian crest just below. Beads of sweat formed upon his brow as his eyes informed him of dozens of Fissoan archers taking up position. Spearmen mixed in with swordsmen and others simply brandishing whatever weapon available to them formed a rough line. They didn't leave their camp defenses but clearly showed that they were ready to skewer him if he came any closer. Perhaps the archers had other plans entirely though. Aldrakar snorted and cleared his throat as he slowed his horse to a walk.
He pushed the double banner up into the air. Looking to see what kind of reaction it would get him. The inner voice explaining in a sugar sweet voice of how he would soon be on the ground, dead, riddled with arrows. Aldrakar had not drawn his sword and if he would then he would have to drop the banner and he did not want to do that.
Moving ever closer to the Fissoan camp Aldrakar tried to affect calm but felt his heart racing. Getting into shouting range he spoke up ''I am Aldrakar of House Renodin. Your enemy last night and still this morning.'' Gulping down air for another round. ''I salute you for valiant action in the dark of night and praise your bravery as you marched against a rain of flaming arrows.'' His eye found an archer notching an arrow to his bow and he knew a moment of dread. ''I have a letter from your King.'' Aldrakar stabbed the double banner down into the soil next to him. The motion exposing him to danger but he committed to the action and as he had hoped, the banner stood erect when he let go of it. Slowly he rose again, waiting for the pain of an arrow.
Settling back into the saddle he allowed the heater-shield to rest against his lower torso. Not raised but close at hand, just in case. ''I have looked at the wounded in our camp and I did not find the Lady Evelyn, Queen of Fissoa. I beg you to tell your King this as it was his request of me.'' he licked his lips and felt his racing heart calm down. If they hadn't shot by now, they surely wouldn't he hoped. ''Let the white of this banner mark peace and a clean slate. I hold no grudges against any of you and will forgive any action you made last night. I hope you will be able to offer me the same kindness.''
Sensing his time was over Aldrakar made the brown hunter horse turn slowly. He hoped it looked capable enough but really all he truly felt was trepidation. Turning his back on men who had fought to the death not hours ago. Riding back to the Lurian camp Aldrakar forced himself not to ride faster than a canter and waited nervously until he was knocked off his mount by a seeking arrow. That thickly sweet inner voice promising him that it would be very painful and agonizing indeed.
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You guys and gals are lucky this week. It seems there is plenty material to write Rp's about! This one is a more personal one for Aldrakar. It involves his late wife, Lucini. Her city and how he deals with his feelings in that regard.
A familiar setting
Moving with his men under and through the huge arching gates of Giask he felt a pang of loss. Memories now firmly locked away in the past never to repeat assailed him. He looked longingly towards the dominant ducal palace. Once the home of the Talratheon Dynasty and where he would go to meet his wife. The former Lady of Giask, Lucini.
The streets were less crowded now. Even the most populated city in the civilized world had its darker days and this was a page from that chapter. Gaunt faces belonging to paupers lined the boulevards. Where Lurian architecture was draped with Asylonian banners Aldrakar knew an ember of anger in the pit of his stomach. He never had disliked the Asylonians and he always respected the alliance the two realms once enjoyed but this was in his mind, a Lurian city still.
As he led his men through the familiar streets and past so many memorable sites that stirred vivid feelings in his breast were it the little people that spoke up. They recognized his family crest and called out to him and lauded him with simple flowers and attempted to touch him. Aldrakar felt strange and was at first unsure how to react but settled on affecting magnanimity. He smiled at them, spoke reassuring words and held hands for brief moments of time. A bond solidified in his heart and he would do what he could for these people of Giask.
Arriving at the huge docklands he had gathered quite a crowd even though he had urged them to continue their duties and jobs. ''I'll return soon again brothers and sisters. Better times are ahead, you all know it and we must all endure what it is we must endure.'' He looked out over them from the prow of the ferry that would take him to the Silver City of Askileon. ''Unity, through power.'' The words came from his mouth. They were the words of House Talratheon and the people knew them.
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Hey there! Welcome once again to the Renodin Story Emporium! Today we have on offer a very special story. Its second in what could be a very nice Rp between 2 people. Read quickly! before you find time lost on you!
A chance meeting en route to the Capital
Standing on the deck of the ferry from Giask to Askileon ,with the cold winter wind buffeting his face Aldrakar was disturbed in his quiet contemplation.
He stood at the railing that circumvated the entire deck. His hands resting on the thick beam that capped it and the gentle crashing noise of waves his only companion, until now.
Sarea edged forward as she approached Aldrakar. She hadn't met the man before and she didn't want to make any mistake or breach in etiquette. She cleared her throat in an attempt to catch his attention and it worked. Aldrakar looked to his side and found a small, dark haired woman standing there. She was dressed in well maintained but simple clothing, considering her mistress's standing. He took his time to consider this new person and let his deep blue eyes drink in her expression, 2 thirds uncomfortable and 1 third annoyed.
The winter wind liberated one of his long golden locks from his ears and blew right into his face, making Aldrakar blink involuntarily. He calmly brushed it aside and as he focused once more on the common born woman she was holding out a small letter. ''For you M'lord, from the Lady Ellyn Coquard.'' Aldrakar accepted the missive and knew confusion as he unfolded it. ''How did you..'' He stopped mid sentence. ''She is on-board M'lord.'' Sarea cut in. Arching his eyebrows in surprise Aldrakar glanced at the small parchment and smiled internally. A fearless servant, he liked that. "Lead the way, it seems this is an invitation.'' He gave Sarea a good natured smile that revealed many healthy and good, white teeth.
Ducking low to avoid bumping his head in the compact space that was the stairwell that led to the private chamber of Ellyn. He was assailed by the swaying of the ship as the waves played with the little vessel. Not once but twice did he have to brace himself or risk tumbling down the steps. Sarea seemed vastly more adept at this sort of thing and she looked right at home. Reaching the door of Ellyn's quarters did Sarae knock twice in quick succession and then called out to her mistress. ''Lord Aldrakar is here to see you Mistress Ellyn. I'll be coming in now.''
As Sarea opened the door she gave Aldrakar a look. ''Wait here please M'lord. I need to tend to the mistress. I'll fetch you when she is ready to receive you.'' Again Aldrakar was slightly amazed at this servant's brazen display of courage. It must have something to do with the way Ellyn handled them, he was sure of it.
Waiting patiently in the confined space outside of her door he remained until Sarea would -fetch- him. The thought alone made him smirk privately.
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Hey there, the following Rp was written by the Player of Ellyn Coquard. She deserves all the credit and I am including it here so you may enjoy a more complete retelling of the Rp Chain.
Ellyn - Aldrakar 2
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Kleio chirped at the porthole, and Elly whistled him over. He dropped a few letters in her lap then went off in search of lunch. Elly slid a finger under the wax seal so familiar to her, the mark of the Crown Prince Rynn. Reading the letter brought tears to her eyes. She had thought upon her move all but Rynn and Jocelin had forsaken her, cast her aside without another thought. Then to find out not only Sholan but Aldrakar sent a missive to Rynn... though Aldrakar told Rynn things Elly hadn't had a chance to tell him herself.
Wiping away the remnents of tears, Sarea entered the room again. "M'lady, the viscount is here to see you," she told Elly. Elly wiped her face once again, hoping that she looked presentable. Running a hand through her hair she nodded to Sarea. "You can let him in, I'm not going to look much better than I do now," she said, moving to sit up and wincing in pain.
A very unladylike expletive fell from her lips as Sarea rushed over to help her sit up, fluffing up the pillows. Elly started to blush slightly, hoping that he did not here the words that fell from her lips. "Viscount Aldrakar I presume?" Elly said cordially. Elly wasn't shy looking him up and down. She racked her brain trying to place him, calling upon memories of long ago.
The battle at the Lighthouse was what seemed forever ago, and the battle she was in was a myraid of bodies and arrows and blades. She lost a friend that day, and almost lost her own life. Elly chuckled softly, before opening her mouth to speak. "Well I have to say it is a pleasure to finally meet you and put a name to a face," she said brightly. "I apologize for my lack of curtsy, but as you can see I shouldn't be out of bed."
Elly guestured to the chair besides her bed and laughed as Sarea took a seat on the otherside of the bed, hovering like a protective guard dog. Elly sighed but knew it was pointless to argue. Sarea didn't want her to leave the estate, but Elly wanted to make the trip. It was obvious she was not safe on her own, so perhaps with Sholan and the rest she would be safer. Sarea also trusted no one other than the Emperor himself.
Picking up the letter from Rynn she waggled it at Aldrakar. "I see you have already started to inform the Crown Prince of things I haven't even shared with him? Or had time too? Though I must thank you as it helped him bring the family in line when they were speaking ill of me..."
Elly sipped her tea. "Would you care for a glass of tea? They say I cannot drink yet for a bit..."
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And here I'll post the reply to that Rp of the Player of Ellyn Coquard. This one's mine, all glory goes to mmeeeee!
Ellyn - Aldrakar 3
Tea on a Boat
Ducking his head low he stepped into the cabin of Lady Ellyn Coquard. It was a small space, sparingly furnished but it still enjoyed a hint of elegance or luxury here and there. Mostly brought on by Ellyn herself probably. Aldrakar took a brief moment to steady himself as a wave toyed with the ferry and caused an unlit lantern to creak as it swung from left to right. His hand firmly against the doorpost.
An incomprehensible but distinct female voice greeted him but he couldn't quite make out the words. As his eyes adjusted to the dimness of the cabin he moved closer to where he saw Ellyn lay in bed. A few steps was really all that was needed. His finely tooled leather boots making soft thumping sounds as he tried to be light-footed. ''Viscount Aldrakar I presume?'' Ellyn's voice welcomed him. Her tone made him smile calmly. ''Good Morning former Prime Minister. Did we not come to an accord in relation to our mutual social standing in light of one another?'' He said in a teasingly formal way. His blue eyes bright with laughter.
As he exchanged a glance with Sarae he held up a disarming hand before he went to accept the proffered seat next to the bed. The chair creaked as it accepted Aldrakar regained bulk. Months of training with his men, long marching days and eating plentifully had done much to restore his former physique. ''Pleasure is all mine Ellyn.'' Aldrakar said to her as he rested his arms on his lap and leaned towards her, causing blond hair to spill to the sides of his face. Dark like a setting sun when beheld in the shaded room that was Ellyn's cabin. ''You look terrible tough, an old woman more akin to a birch than a vibrant woman dashing through life.'' His tone disarming and the corners of his mouth arching upwards into a smirk.
Across the bed however 2 embers of eyes bore a hole in him. Looking up a bit and accepting the challenging look of Sarae Aldrakar winked. Which didn't quite settle the trusted handmaiden.
The exchange was interupted as Ellyn waves a piece of parchment at his face. "I see you have already started to inform the Crown Prince of things I haven't even shared with him? Or had time too? Though I must thank you as it helped him bring the family in line when they were speaking ill of me..." Directing his attention back to Ellyn he licked his lips before replying. ''It seemed only the right thing to do, you spoke highly of him and something of your protector. With news of your injury he should at the very least be informed I thought.'' Studying Ellyn's face for a moment he continued. ''Are you alright? should we open a window. You seem to be sweating.'' Aldrakar motioned towards her cheeks where some residual tears had found a haven from the drying handkerchief used before.
Not really waiting for a response he stood up and continued to open a small window that permitted a steady ocean breeze into the stuffy room. As he resumed to take his seat Ellyn offered him a cup of tea. Crafty woman, the thought that came to his mind. ''Why yes, I would like some.'' He accepted the bitter liquid but affected pleasure as he gave an appreciative grunt after the first sip. A keen observer might have detected his hand lowering the cup out of sight though.
Allowing time to create a small silence to stretch between them he used it to take a closer look at the woman he had been corresponding with for all these months. A former enemy and D'haran to boot. The first real D'haran that truly seemed to want peace. ''I believe you still have something of mine.. hmm?''
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Written by the Player of Ellyn Coquard. All credits naturally goes to her and also a fair bit of gratitude from my side.
Ellyn - Aldrakar 4
unnamed
"You look terrible tough, an old woman more akin to a birch than a vibrant woman dashing through life,'' she heard him say, and she suppressed a smile. "Well compared to you dear sir, I am an old woman, old enough to be your mother," she couldn't help but tease. Elly new she looked like something the barn cats had dragged in, but until she felt better she didn't right care. Elly frowned when it seemed he didn't care for the tea. Elly guestured to the cup. "Would you care for something else to drink? They will only let me have tea and I have nothing good hidden," she told him.
Elly guestured to Sarea. "Find him something good to drink, and myself as well. I am tired of boring tea...." Sarea frowned at her mistress, then looked at Aldrakar, then back to Elly. "I must stay and watch you," she said curtly. "No, you must go find drinks, I will be fine," she emphasized. Elly lowered her voice to a whisper to Sarea. "He's not going to harm me, he's not going to kill me. I'm sure he's also aware that the Emperor himself would come after him if anything untoward would happen." Elly dismissed Sarea and watched her leave.
"I am sorry for that," she apologized. Elly shifted to sit up better, brushing her errant hair out of her face. What she wouldn't give to sink into a hot bath, but until her side heals there would be none of that. ''I believe you still have something of mine.. hmm?'' Aldrakar asked.
Elly nodded and motioned to him. "If you will hand me that leather pouch on the table," she requested of him. She watched him rise and move to the table, returning with her pouch. Opening it she tilted it, dumping the signet ring on a silver chain into her lap. Putting aside the pouch she picked up the chain, unclasping it and sliding the ring down until it was by itself in her hand. Coiling the chain back in her lap she closed her hand around the ring. "I do have to thank you for the protection this could have given had it been needed," Elly stretched slight, tired of being forced to stay in bed. "Unfortunately nothing could have protected me in the Ember Estate from Blackmane, but I'm still alive and mostly well, so that is to be celebrated," she told him, holding out her hand.
She uncurled her fingers and the ring sat in her open palm for him to take. Elly looked at the door. "One would think drinks wouldn't take long to get..." Elly looked back at Aldrakar. "My hospitality is lacking it seems here on this ship, but hopefully the company is not."
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And of course my response. A bit of a puzzle perhaps but maybe it's fun if I don't reveal too much.
Ellyn - Aldrakar 5
The seal of protection
In the small cabin aboard a ferry from Giask to Askileon Aldrakar sat on a simple and creaking chair as he witnessed the powerstruggle between bedridden mistress and maid. "Find him something good to drink, and myself as well. I am tired of boring tea...." Ellyn Coquard said to Sarea, her handmaiden. The two argued quietly for a short while that saw mistress prevail, this time.
He tried to avert his eyes briefly and then simply accepted the situation for what it was. A friend visiting a sick friend. He leaned back into the chair and agreed with Ellyn. ''I don't much care for tea.'' he rubbed the bridge of his nose to rid himself of a passing itch. ''I'm fine though, I didn't come here for a drink and neither does your hospitality dwindle because of its lack.'' He looked ruefully at her for a moment but it soon took on a more bright quality as she asked him to retrieve a pouch that lay on a nearby table. It was a simple thing to do and he didn't mind.
Expertly handling the ring which he discovered hung from a necklaces of pure silver Ellyn soon offered it to him. "I do have to thank you for the protection this could have given had it been needed. Unfortunately nothing could have protected me in the Ember Estate from Blackmane, but I'm still alive and mostly well, so that is to be celebrated." she said as she rebelled in a minor way against the confines that was the bed.
He reached out to take the ring from her upturned palm. ''It never really was protection, only a ring.'' As he withdrew his hand he looked at Ellyn. ''I should have send a trusted man instead of it. So we always think in hindsight I guess.'' Feeling a tension creep into his shoulders he shrugged heavily. Memories of the Emperor's fondness of Ellyn surfaced. At the same time did a growing sense of Duty urge him to leave. "One would think drinks wouldn't take long to get..." Ellyn said to dispel the growing silence.
Joining her in looking at the door Aldrakar rose from his chair and turned back to face Ellyn. ''I should be going. Its unbecoming for us to be in the same room alone.'' His face hardened a bit as the words exited from his lips. ''Thank you for the drink but it will have to wait until a time where you are restored to health and the setting is more receptive towards the concept.'' Straightening his leather and heavy cotton garb, akin to military uniform, Aldrakar paced towards the door. Arriving there he turned and made a formal bow. ''It has been a privilege Ellyn, I shall leave to you now to rest.'' A stern nod followed. He turned to the door and soon exiting through it. Sarea almost bumped into him with a hemp bound bottle of a deep verdant green color and some glasses. Wherever she had retrieved actual glasses on a ferry like this mystified Aldrakar but he didn't comment as he passed her by.
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Mornin'. and if it ain't, just adjust it accordingly hehe. A short Rp I have for you today. An interaction quite unique and I hope that more people would use variations of it. Really shone a light on an area otherwise somewhat neglected I feel. The official bit I mean. Enjoy.
Details:
The quote-ed bits were actually quote-ed in the Rp format of message styles, as to represent an actual letter where the rest of the text is meant as actual RP.
Written by the Player of Sibylla Kildare:
Darius sat on his large throne, the portraits of his ancestors silently staring down at him. If they would be alive, the honorable path the Kildare family has taken would surely warm their spirits.
"Time is of the essence", he murmured as he shuffled through papers of potential spouses, his eyes jolting back and forth between the information each paper presented in his eyes. "There we go", Darius murmured as soon as he found Aldrakar Renodin. Darius stood up from his throne and walked towards Sibylla. She didn't pay much attention to him, obviously preoccupied with the urgent managing Orz required, until he stood over her shoulder and coughed, clearly a sign for a conversation start.
"Sibylla, I know that you are busy with the total war Luria has been engulfed into, but you have to start taking into consideration your age and more importantly, your family's legacy. This isn't a matter to be taken lightly and since you are my daughter, I would like to get your attention over that lad here", he said while waving Aldrakar's paper in front of her face.
"Fine", she said, "I'm pretty sure you could do much worse if given more laxity".
"Very well. I shall let the House's heralds submit a formal request of marriage to Viscount Renodin then", Darius said while walking towards the castle's main hall.
"Honorable Viscount Aldrakar Renodin,
I, Darius Kildare, of House Kildare, a Lurian noble house with ancestral ties to Shinnen, wish to formally offer my daughter's hand in marriage to you, Aldrakar Renodin, of noble House Renodin. For too long my daughter has went on without a spouse and it would be an honor for House Kildare to ally under strong and unbreakable ties with House Renodin."
May the Gods swiftly guide your hand,
Darius Kildare"
Written by me, in response:
The food was good here, as was the company. The house of mayor Gwindel wasn't big or grand but neither was his name. His family were governors of one of the settlements Sulorte was rich in and it was his family that remembered well the days when Aldrakar was the Lord of these lands. They had hosted him for a day now and with the evening meal come to and end Aldrakar had found himself on the balcony of the manor, overlooking a modest grove of olive trees.
In his hand was the letter written by Darius Kildare, Patriarch of the Kildare family. As the mild winter breeze toyed with the torchlight that illuminated the balcony Aldrakar sat down at a small table, just large enough for 2 people at best. He let his eyes wander over the parchment once more. ''Sibylla is a good woman..'' He rubbed his face with his hand and let it linger at his chin as he thought for a moment.
Putting the parchment down he took up quill and set to write a response.
Master Darius, Patriarch of the House Kildare,
Where a marital tie to the House Kildare, with ancestry linked to Shinnen would be a strong match for my person, must I inform you that there are already other marital negotiations ongoing. This fact prevents me from engaging in any other.
I am deeply honored you would consider my Dynasty a worthy party to the Lady Sibylla Kildare. It is unfortunate that no suitable males are present in the Empire of Luria Nova at this time.
With respect,
Aldrakar Renodin
Viscount of Garuck Udor
Aldrakar looked the letter over as the stars revealed themselves when the clouds drifted away from their obscuring duty. The next day that very letter was given to a messenger with clear instructions to deliver it in person and only to the Patriarch of the House of Kildare, come what may.
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Back again! This time with a little traveling Rp. Aldrakar visiting the lands of which he was first made a Lord way back, like.. way back. Enjoy!
Old memories
Riding past one of the more recent guard towers on the main road leading towards Sulorta Harbor Aldrakar found himself beset by an old emotion. He felt belonging tinged with a little bit of sadness. Savoring the feeling he motioned for his men to keep on marching. ''Sergeant, keep the men on the right path, I'll catch up in a while.'' Not waiting for an answer did he spur his horse on down a less trodden path.
Several soldiers looked up in mild amazement, one addressed the sergeant ''But sarge! What 'bout Bandits and their ilk? Sur'ley the Lord wan'sume protection nay?'' The man spoke crudely since birth and his bad teeth didn't aid him either. The sergeant however replied calmly, knowing Aldrakar could handle himself. ''Don't worry lad, he knows what he's doing. He used to Lord it over these lands. Know 'em like the back of 'is hand. Now get back in line!'' And so the soldiers found themselves harassed as usual, to make good time.
Down that lonesome path however, Aldrakar let his mount set the pace and allowed it the reins. He enjoyed the temporary freedom and the familiar sights of Sulorte but it wasn't long however before he came upon a guardhouse. A relic from another time really, a stone building expanded upon several times and dead smack at the edge of the road with a little tower sticking out over it. The guard on duty threw big eyes as he saw the fine horse and even finer dressed noble approach at speed. ''Oi! You thar! Stop! In name of the Lady Jocelin!'' The unnerved guard lowered his halberd but it didn't grand him any more courage.
Pulling hard on the reins Aldrakar brought the beast to a halt just out of reach of the pole-arm. Pebbles spraying the guard who looked more sour by the minute. A whack heralded the opening of the tough oaken door of the guardhouse and out spilled 2 more guards. Rushing and wearing their helms unstrapped. ''W'ho goes therre!?!'' The initial guard shouted.
Gently urging the horse at a walk to the ancient stone watering trough Aldrakar fixed his deep blue eyes on the guardsmen who shrank away from his piercing gaze. Silence stretched as Aldrakar dismounted and tied the reins to the accompanying post. The only real sound coming from the horse who contently drank.
''I am Aldrakar Renodin and it is your duty to arrest me.'' He turned to face them and his armor backed up his claim at being nobility at least if not his daring manner. The guardsmen exchanged looks but only managed mutual confusion. Calmly walking up to the guardsmen Aldrakar made no motion to unsheathe his sword but his presence was enough to elicit a response from the three. ''Thas' close 'nough sirrah.'' Tension rose as Aldrakar obliged but gave time for the guardsmen to continue talking. Something they clearly hand't planned to do.
''I am from Luria Nova but my men are not with me now. Your Liege Lady is a friend of mine and if you decide to fight know that at least one of you will not breathe to see another day.'' He eyed the three and they in turn looked nervous, a direct martial challenge. ''We could of course always elect a more diplomatic course of action.'' Aldrakar offered a genuine smile. ''Let me leave a letter with you for the Lady Jocelin and know that she will be quite pleased with your efforts.'' A short pause which saw Aldrakar shrug mildly. ''If you accept I'll get on my horse again and ride away, no one needs to get hurt and all the gods will be happy. Lady Jocelin may be generous towards you for the service you did her and you'll have a good story for when you next drink with your friends.''
Aldrakar left the guards to glance and mutter between themselves as he moved back to his horse and retrieved from the saddlebag a leather bound package. He held it firmly for a moment as he untied the reins and mounted the horse. It responded willingly and smoothly followed his guidance. The guardsmen now found themselves in a hushed but heated debate. The horse walked up to the guardsmen and as Aldrakar arrived in reaching distance he placed a hand on the shoulder of one of the guards. '''Bli! What th..!'' The guard uttered. ''Peace!'' Aldrakar called as he had to restrain himself from chuckling. The guardsman looked up in astonishment as Aldrakar offered him the leather bound package. ''Give this to Lady Jocelin, please.'' The last word more a command than a pleasantry.
The guards were mute for all intended purposes as they stared after Aldrakar rode away the way he came and vanished from sight at the very first bend in the road.
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Kinda felt I couldn't just leave it at that hehe. Had to write an Rp to kill the suspense and reveal what the content of the package was. Well.. now you can find out also!
The Leather Bound Package
The next morning saw the world doused in a thousand thousand droplets of rain and more. Ocean wind from the euschean brought mist and covered the coastal villages. Many people remained indoors but those that had to venture out did so under heavy cloaks of leather if they could afford them but most wore thick woolen ones. Their fabric absorbing most of the water but it meant an additional burden to carry around. It was better at least than getting soaked.
Standing before you in your reception were three guardsmen. Water pooling around their boots as it cascaded from them freely. They looked like wet dogs. Dross expressions forced upon their faces as they shivered and with one of them even with clattering teeth. Ushering them forwards was a tall and muscular man. Resplendent in your heraldic colors worn over a suit of chain-mail stood one of your personal guards. His lip was curled upwards in disdain. He clearly thought himself eminently placed above these lowly road guards.
''Kneel!'' He roared over their heads and was quick to force the nearest to do just that with a hard blow to the man's knee with the haft of his battleaxe. The other 2 needed no further prompting. Walking past the kneeling figures did the heraldic guard address you. ''My Queen, these three came to deliver you this.'' He bowed low with practiced ease and flaunted his chiseled body but properly averted his eyes. In his hand he held a soft leather bound package which he held for you to take possession of.
The content:
A small jeweled pin depicting the local heraldic symbol of Sulorte in fine gold and orange topas.
A short list written in good handwriting detailing favorable, local wine makers in the region of Sulorte.
A letter containing the following message:
Lady Jocelin, Queen of Barca,
May this letter find you in company of its original companions nestled in a leather bound container.
For your knowledge it are a jeweled pin of Sulorte, a wine list and this letter. Where I am unsure how this package will reach you I found myself writing this letter as I now know I will be traveling through Sulorte. I miss its lands, it is very tranquil and peaceful. Empress Alice bestowed its title upon me many years ago.
It never needed much attention, the land or the people for they managed themselves pretty sufficiently. This letter is merely a pleasantry and a notice that should this letter reach you, I am or have traveled through the lands of Sulorte. Worry not for looters or vile acts. None such will be visited upon this land.
I hope you are well and that health is ever yours.
Your friend,
Aldrakar Renodin
Viscount of Garuck Udor
The heraldic guard waited for a time and as you accept the package he seems fully intend on removing the ''scum'' from this exalted room. He clearly want to teach the 3 poor guards a lesson but there is still time to intervene, should you want to.
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Ziiiing! Back again, this time not with my own writing but with the copious amounts of sweet Rp written by the Player of Lady Jocelin Le Drake of Barca. To be honest I was quite surprised and happily so. Read and find out why, but I'm sure you can already guess.
Written by the Player of Jocelin Le Drake:
Jocelin rested her hands upon her head, holding her hair out of the way while her handmaid cinched her dress shut. It was taking longer than usual, and her thoughts had begun to wander when a hard jerk startled her from her reverie. She glared over her shoulder at her servant, more irritable than she had meant to be, "Be careful!"
"I'm sorry m'lady... it won't fit!"
"Won't--" She pulled away and turned in the mirror, looking at herself sideways. Normally flat in the front, the powder blue fabric lay tight over the gentle curve of her stomach. She stared for a long time, and then her eyes softened. "Fetch the green one." The blue gown was taken away, and while she waited for the other Jocelin examined herself in the mirror more closely. She lifted the front of her underdress, glancing surreptitiously to either side as if someone might see; there was no one in the room beside the maid at the wardrobe. I could be mistaken, Thinking back on her eating habits, the past few weeks had found the normally conservative Jocelin hoarding sweets to deal with the constant stress of a realm at war. But the thought of a La Pointe heir was much more appealing. Erasmus will be pleased. Did she tell him right away? It might be more prudent to wait until she'd gotten too large to doubt her condition. Besides, her husband was an observant man: he might have known before she did.
A hurried knock at the door made her turn, though there was a thick screen in place to keep intruders from laying eyes on their unprepared Queen. She was wary about letting anyone outside her closest staff see her in any sort of disarray: Erasmus had married her with that purpose in mind, though the original idea of a union between them had been hers. He was the strength of mind and will in their marriage: she was the face; the gentle influence; the one held beyond reproach. Each one worked to benefit the whole they had made to great effect.
Another knock. Her maid finished cinching her into a bottle-green gown that made the gold in her hair and eyes seem to shine. She replaced her irritated scowl at being disturbed so early in the morning with a courtier's smile and bid the source of the noise to enter. One of Erasmus' guardsmen entered, flanked on either side by the men her captain had posted outside her door. Together they bowed, and then the first spoke, "Three couriers arrived today bearing a package for Your Majesty. Shall I have them brought to the throne room?"
"No: bring them to the solar." The throne room was where Erasmus received his visitors and held court; Jocelin much preferred the high windows and glass ceiling of the solar. It was where their wedding had been held under a full moon, with Bloodmoon on their lips to make the colors shimmer. The room had since become her own, and she entertained there when she could find a reasonable excuse to. The low steps that encircled the room had made for an ideal dais, and a modest wooden throne had been crafted for the young Queen. At this time in the morning the solar was also a tactical choice: as the clouds cleared the sun would be at her back, forcing those she received to squint. Her hair would catch the light, and her eyes, and any who approached her would in later retellings refer to her as Barca's Golden Queen.
Her two armed escorts followed closely on the way to the solar, and her maid trailed behind them. Though she trusted in her good reputation and the spirit of friendship between her and Viscount Aldrakar to keep her safe from Infiltrators, that was never a guarantee, and so she remained under guard even in her own halls. They flanked the door on either side and posted; her handmaiden hustled to one side of the room, ready at a moment's notice to do her mistress' bidding. A long minute later and a trio of drenched guards came in, escorted by the most pompous of her personal guard. Jocelin suppressed a groan as he pressed them forward, and sat bolt upright when he struck one of the road-stained guards behind the knee. "Guardsman!" Everyone in the room looked up, but her steady glare was fixed on one man alone, "We have been aching for an excuse to dismiss you from our service. Do not tempt us so." She had a singer's talent for projection, having been taught from a young age how to make herself heard without shouting. As far as she could recall, the number of times in her life that she had had to shout could be tallied on one hand. Called to task, the pompous man apologized with a bow, and forged ahead as if she had not just reprimanded him.
However, there was now a subdued edge to his delivery. He presented the package that had been brought and waited for her to take it; she did not, not until she saw who it was addressed from. The Viscount?
"Show us." She was giving him permission to open it, for the package had been muddied on the way here. He opened it with so much care and delicacy that she had to suppress the urge to roll her eyes, impatient as she was. Mother would be pleased. Too bad her family had fled the continent, cursing Dwilight for the monsters that plagued it. She grew quiet as she saw the contents and read the letter Viscount Aldrakar had penned. She noted his diplomatic phrasing, but a greater part of her was touched by his seeming sincerity, and she was relieved that no looting would take place. Her good standing with the Lurians was doing more to protect Sulorte than her soldiers, held back in Aveston as she was. If we were reconciled, Sulorte would be yours again, She vowed in silence, her heart hurting yet again for the necessity that was holding Sulorte for her own. She hated the circumstances that had ignited war between them, a war that --at the time-- she'd been too young and compliant to prevent. Now that there were fewer Barcans she was a respected woman, but Jocelin often found herself wondering if that would be so if their numbers had been greater.
She bid her handmaid to fix the pin to her chest, the weight of it greater than its size suggested. While she was hidden from the rest of the room by the body in front of her she closed her eyes, working out what she was going to say before she said it. Words were not paint to her as they seemed to Sir Aldrakar, but responsibilities, weights placed on a scale opposite the gravity of what they spoke of. Too much praise and she was weak; too little, and she risked offending. Her fellow nobles rarely seem to notice (nor care) that their reputations were built on their words, even to the lower class. For someone like her her image was her greatest asset, and she cultivated it as a farmer did his crop.
"You men are from Sulorte?" She wondered if they were from the Barca-that-was or if they'd been born Lurian but suppressed the urge to ask. Such questions had become taboo among the commonfolk. Jocelin didn't wait for a response; she bid the embarrassed guard to step forward and whispered something into his ear, to which he snapped a sharp salute and left the room. Her smile brightened considerably after his departure, and she focused that golden gaze on the three knelt before her. "We would not send you back to your posts without rest nor a hot meal first. I will bid my staff to prepare hot baths in your quarters if you wish it." She looked at them all steadily, expressing her opinion that they needed them without saying as much. "We have bid our... enthusiastic... guardsman to bring us one of our clerks. We were a trader once, and still have some contacts along the coast." If these vintners are willing I would like to see their business expanded abroad. "This war may have made trade difficult with the neighboring regions, and we would like to preserve Sulorte's treasures as best we can."
"For your integrity and the obvious care you took in conveying Viscount Aldrakar's gift to us, it would please us if you would deliver a gift in return. Be here tomorrow at dawn, and you will be rewarded again for your service." She indicated that they were dismissed... and then paused. Her curiosity was burning her up inside. "We have never met Viscount Aldrakar... he seemed a goodly man?"
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Naturally I could not simply let that Rp go unanswered. So here you can read about the 3 Roadside Guards, Andas, Nils and Inoric. Enjoy!
3 Guards and a Queen
"For your integrity and the obvious care you took in conveying Viscount Aldrakar's gift to us, it would please us if you would deliver a gift in return. Be here tomorrow at dawn, and you will be rewarded again for your service." She indicated that they were dismissed... and then paused. Her curiosity was burning her up inside. "We have never met Viscount Aldrakar... he seemed a goodly man?" With that Queen Jocelin Le Drake settled her golden gaze on the trio of very misplaced guardsmen of some outer road somewhere in the hills of Sulorte.
All the way to the Solar of the Barcan Castle, previously a Lurian Castle.. did the three road-guardsmen exchange nervous glances. Andas was the eldest of the three, a thickset man with a patchy beard trying to hide his various chins, one flapping over the other. Nils was the shortest, though none knew his age. Not even himself, 'lost count' he would claim if ever anyone asked. He seemed younger than Andas though and a lot thinner. Inoric made up the third of the trio and he was a merry man, simple of wit but always ready with a cheesy story or two.
Their relief was plain to see when the pompous guard left the room but that only lasted a very short time as the Barcan Queen posed them a seemingly simple question. What did they remember of Aldrakar Renodin? The question was shared without words as their eyes met and ever so slowly edged back to meet those of the Queen Jocelin.
The Queen's maid gave a particularly loud Hmmppf! at the obvious breach in etiquette from the lowly guardsmen but their faces only displayed confusion at the maid. Andas clearly didn't to be the first to make an ass out of himself and firmly kept his lips sealed. Inoric was plainly intimidated and so it was Nils that spoke up.
''Err..'' The first sound escaped Nils's throat. ''We's never really met ' em either M'lady.'' His shifty eyes carefully scanned the room as he tried to gauge the reaction of the castle guards and looked quite like a frightened lizard both in frame and posture. Noting that none had intervened he took it as a sign to continue.
''He's a fanceh une tha'.'' Gaining some confidence he used a bit of flair in the sense that he used hand gestures. "He rode al'oone on this brown horse, nay 'an warhorse either.'' Nils thought for a moment and picked his words, however broken they were. ''Dark brown 'orse with one of them gut saddles. A fine beast if ever I saw one!''
A sharp nudge to the ribs shook Nils from his memories as he found that Inoric had jabbed him with his elbow. ''Tell ' er about the -Rider- not that Bloody 'Orse!'' Inoric suggested forcefully. Fear mixed with shock flashed over Nil's face and his voice quivered as he continued. ''Tha' rider, yesh! Euhmm.. He was a tall man, a giant! with Hair like yours!'' Nils was quick to point at Jocelin but recoiled as soon as the guards scowled at him. Andas, biggest of the three of them had had enough and shoved little Nils out of the way so he could face the Queen.
''He was a man with golden hair that cut till 'ere.'' Andas made a slashing motion with his flat hand that indicated shoulder length. ''Loose and carried by the wind. He rode alone and wore armor made of smaller plates and little rings of iron or steel.'' Andas glanced back at his two friends and gave them a reassuring look. ''From what I gathered he was nay afraid of us. He never drew 'is sword and got off 'is 'orse. Him told us to a'rrest 'im but that he would kill one 'o us if we tried.'' A deep frown appeared on Andas's face. ''Then he said he was a friend of yours and said many fancy words, me and my friends here..'' He indicated with his hand. ''Tried to decide what to do but then he got on 'is 'orse 'gain and handed us that package there.'' this time he indicated the now remains of the package with a very un-extended arm.. for fear of the castle guards.
''If you ask me yer Majasteh, he's either a fool or a brave man 'o war. I nay wanna fite 'im.'' Andas shook his head quickly and repeatedly, making his various fatty chins dangle like cherries from a tree. ''Handsome bloke with white teeth like the sands of the beach down at tha 'Arbor.'' Having spoken at length the trio fell silent and became ever more compact as they awaited whatever came next. Fortunately for them, the maid spoke up and broke the silence. She took them to their chambers and ensured with stern hand that they all took a bath and saw to it that they were fed good food and allowed to sit at the hearth in the commons room.
For Andas, Nils and Inoric it was a slice of heaven and their roaring laughter was heard throughout the cast and only cut when they realized someone was paying attention. Which was really hard not to do..
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Here I got something truly unique for you. It may seem simple and rather ordinary even but take moment and consider that the this Rp sprang from a tiny little detail I gave earlier to this player in a letter that contained lots of details hehe. I am humbled by the simple perfection it embodies and am grateful to have been the recipient. Enjoy!
Written by the player of Evelyn Challons:
A messenger would arrive at Lurian Lands, a few hours after the sun has risen. The young man, weary as he was from the long journey nonetheless kept his duty in mind, carrying a package and letter to hand over. The letter sealed with the insignia of House Challon, a seal no doubt familiar to Aldrakar at this point.
The package unlike the letter however is adressed to Aldrakar Renodin II, Aldrakar's son. Inside the package is a small note, along with a small toy horse. A well crafted toy horse, black in colour. The horse looks smoothened out here and there, no sharp edges seen to make it suitable for any child, with the horse's expression worked into a docile one. Definatly a toy that has earned a craftsman a good amount of silvers for.
The note is written in clear letters, with a bit of a flair to it. Clearly from a feminine hand.
Young Lord Aldrakar II,
This is Kato. She is still young and has no friends as of yet. Many are afraid of her because of her black fur, yet she is very friendly and kind.
She needs someone to take care of her. Will you be able to do this and be her friend?
~Lady Evelyn Challon-Graves of Fissoa
Followed by a letter addressed to the father:
Lord Aldrakar,
I recall how you mentioned your son feared thr larger, black horses. To hopefully aid in conquering those fears, I have dispatched one of my messengers with a gift for him. A black, toy horse.
Perhaps with the toy, he will be ale to overcome his fears in time. Regardless, I wish not overstep any bounds and hope I have not offended with this gift.
~In friendship,
Evelyn
Evelyn Challon
Margravine of Madina Gardens
Marshal of the Fissoa Privateers
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Naturally such a unique and insightful Rp deserves a reply. I chose to flesh out the actual gift giving and include Aldrakar's 2 sons. Hope you like it and if you don't you probably wouldn't have made it this far into my compendium of Rp's hehe.
The Son and the Black Horse
Encamped with one of the armies of Luria stood the sturdy and fairly large tent of Aldrakar. Winter may be mild in the south but it still had its tempers. It was a marching camp and as such it was all mobile and temporary. The servants had pitched the tents, horses were being tended and food boiled or if lucky cooked fresh, over a wood-fire set in a shallow pit.
There were hard and tough men all around and a fair amount of their female equivalent. The warriors of Luria were hardened through years of battle and campaigning. This also made the marching camp exceptionally efficient, everyone knew what to expect and what was expected of them in turn. Where the military side of things ended the family side of things made an entrance. Many soldiers brought their wives and even children. Campaigning in the homeland made that an easier endeavor than abroad fortunately and Aldrakar was no different.
The cheering and laughing greeted him as he walked back from the command tent and approached the location of his own. Asher, the youngest of his two sons was riding a black and white spotted pig. Much to the displeasure of his older brother, Aldrakar II. Older only by moments though but in an argument it mattered, especially to the two boys. Where they were only 3 or close to 4 summers they had the will and fire of their father, yet to be tempered with self imposed virtues and education. They ran to their father as soon as they spotted him. ''Daaaaaa!!'' being yelled at the top of their lungs and crash-huggled his boots and knees as they clung to him.
Aldrakar chuckled heartily and ruffled both their heads with his hands. ''Which one of you grew most today? Hmm?'' Both of the boys exclaimed it was them of course and Aldrakar lifted both of them on one arm each. Pushing them up higher and higher one after the other in a mock contest until he placed both of them on his shoulders. Draped like this with cheering little boys he greeted his usual staff that awaited his arrival back at his tent.
Putting the boys down and kissing both of them on the cheek Aldrakar was approached by a page, Marc was his name. ''My Lord, a messenger delivered this for you.'' Marc held out a letter tied to a package and gave it to his master. Sitting down at the fire on a stool Aldrakar set about to reading it while at the same time a bowl of stew was pushed into his other hand. Eating and reading he called over Aldrakar II. The boy ran to his father and all but crashed into him. ''Whoow boy, manners, stand up straight like you've been taught.'' Aldrakar arched an eyebrow. Aldrakar II smirked and straightened his posture with his arm neatly hanging to the side of his body. ''Good, here you got mail..'' Aldrakar pressed the package into his son's tiny hands and he in turn threw big eyes and set about in a frenzy to open it. Aldrakar could only chuckle softly as he resumed eating.
The little boy saw the toy, the fine black horse carved from wood by the hand of a master woodcarver. He loved it instantly and pressed it against his cheek until Aldrakar thought it would fuse. ''Do your letters son, read it.'' Aldrakar indicated the accompanying letter with the wooden spoon he had employed to eat the stew. His son stole a seat next to his father and put the black toy horse gingerly in between of them, like a revered guest.
''T..twiss ish Kao..'' Aldrakar II looked up at his father. He nodded ''This is Kato.'' The boy resumed reading and his father helped him and when the letter was finished it to became a treasured guest. Aldrakar produced a leather pouch from his belt and gave it to his son. ''Keep Kato in there when you don't play with her and also the letter, so you know who gave it to you.'' The boy nodded and beamed. ''Remember that giving is good and is a path walked by the good.'' The words were heard but perhaps not really understood. Aldrakar smiled warmly to his son and put his arm around him. The boy however noticed little of it as he let himself sink against his big father and played all the while with the little black toy horse, Kato.
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Hey there, a long Rp this time. With a bit of mixed feelings. Its grim, it a bit dark but very real. Its a night attack on the city of Giask. It holds special meaning to Aldrakar because that city used to belong to his wife, the mother of his two children, sons. I also want to dedicate it to the Realm of Asylon. If this is truly an end I hope it did them justice. Even though I think they will reemerge in the not so far away future. Enjoy.
A City of Shadows
Nights lasted an age and never yielded much to the sun. The land was blanketed once more in darkness as the last light of the world was beset upon once more by the minions of the moon. Her stars crept up to claim their places in the heavens high above and left only sparing rays to shine down onto the world of mortal men. Winter had ushered in the Sable Season.
The high walls of Giask stood lined with torches and black banners making striking sounds as the wind's gale tried to tear them from their posts. Indomitable and ancient they lay as mountains around one of the greatest cities in Dwilight. Inside were the men and women of Asylon, defending their last bastion. They knew what waited, what sprang on them like a panther with ivory white teeth.
On the other side of those massive walls in the fields surrounding the mighty city, waited a huge host of Lurian born, of Asylonian Born, of Niselurian born, the blood of many nations united under Lurian banners. Aldrakar marched with his men, his eyes always returning to the ever darkening silhouette of the City of his late wife, Lucini Talratheon Renodin. ''I'll.. I..'' He shook his head, no oath should be made he felt and his face hardened he set his mind to the task ahead.
A huge swarm, a legion, a fire touched snake of men and beasts and machines bore down on the City. Ladders, catapults, portable shields of heavy wicker and more. A town's worth of servants and a small realm's worth of combatants stood ready to fight. Atop the battlements stood the Asylonians, they looked back behind them at times. Down to the warriors waiting in the streets of Giask, ready to repel the attackers that might spill over or through the walls.
As the last of the sun's presence vanished from the world so the horns blasted. Boots stamped the soil into a paste. The light of stars glimmered off the naked weapons held in hands, a spectral legion of faceless murderers. The only white visible their teeth and the hot plumes of respiration that exited their helms.
Shouts rose from the walls and weapons were banged against shields, bells rang as the defenders roared their defiance! A rumbling reply roiled against the high walls like a crashing wave of rage. Compassion was shed and fear filled men's hearts and warred with anger, with love. The Angels of Death took flight upon the arrows of men and cut the air with their wails and soon they were followed with the agonizing screams of the dying.
Like the first droplets foreboding a storm did the first Asylonian soldiers tumble from the walls. Their armor shimmering in the torch- and moonlight as they smashed onto the ground far below. A fair number transforming into bloody abominations of flesh and metal like the stuff of nightmares. The bite of arrows found sir Velden Calanar whom was fortunate to have been pulled back by his most courageous captain. Sparing him from a moral wound that now only had found his shoulder. Not far from that position, more eager than most person was Sir Perotin Dmitros. His wild cries like a demon upon the battlements daring his foes to come close. The might of the wind carried his voice and made him seem superhuman.
His frightful image brought him arrows, arrows that marked him and caught him in the gut. Probably caught by his armor but his image was now removed from the walls. Sir Zaxer Melinco however was less brazen. His efforts at coordination garnered him the attention of Chosen men. Men who took their time and picked their targets. Zaxer was unlucky to come into their sights. In a daring display he leaned out for but a second to point out a strategic target but in that split moment was showered in arrows. If not for his armor he would've likely died but good armor saves life. Even his face was touched by an arrow, resulting in a gash.
The siege had entered its first phase and the sky was frightful and beautiful at the same time. Silver, glimmering rain fell horizontally before it descended onto the earth. Screaming and screeching instead of tapping gently, arrows. Aldrakar swallowed hard as he gave orders to his men. He would not be among those to storm the walls and he felt regret mounting, that was his calling, to stand face to face with sword in hand. The thick of it. With his sword he indicated sections of the wall to pepper in missile fire and his Armored Skirmishers did as he instructed them.
Siege ladders and even 2 towers made their way to the Walls of Giask but not without resistance. Not without a hundred hundred arrows pelting them and for those approaching the walls with their shields raised above their heads. Them awaited falling rocks and worse. Liquid fire.
Hooked spears, halberds and axes were ready as those above awaited those below. Huge ladders rose against the walls and men climbed them. In full armor and some even from the reverse side. Climbing the rungs hanging from them. While this provided some cover it was not enough for many. Before his eyes Aldrakar saw an entire siege ladder get engulfed in orange and red and bright yellow as a pot of boiling soon burning oil was poured over them. Flaming men danced their last steps before they fell to the ground in death.
The Asylonian defenders fought valiantly and managed to crush their foes with boulders, with axes and with fierce headbutts. Smashing noses, hacking at hands and crushing heads and helmets. It proved not enough. The Lurian men at arms were gaining a foothold on the walls and the Asylonians archers were loosing the ranged battle. Velden Calanar had returned to the fore and stood, shouted probably to encourage his men. He was battling for what he was worth like a true Knight. His already pieced body suffered another wound. A quarrel from a crossbow found him somewhere close to his spleen. This time he had to retire. His men pulled at him and he tried to stop them but his body was too weak.
Sir Min Garwyn was directing his veterans but caught the eye of Sir Jericho Barrons and it was his hand that pointed. Arrows followed the motions and struck down Sir Min. An arrow to the thigh and several men died to save him. Aldrakar saw it happen and tried to act in time but not in time to spare Sir Min the wounds. His Armored Skirmishers found their Mark however and Sir Jericho found himself under heavy fire. Trying to duck away he was just too slow and several small arrows found his person. Most logging in his armor but some did more than superficial damage.
The Lurian forces pressed the attack and the Walls were slowly taken. Kings of Luria had their banners fly high in the dark sky and were only lit by what torches and braziers could illuminate. In a storm of Iron and of Steel where voices drowned in the howling wind did men die with screams gone mute. Swords flashed like silvery shadows and the ring of armor only reached those directly around. The deadly play made even more difficult as the wind tried to nudge everyone off the wall. Cloaks and Capes came alive and a morbid theater was played out for all to see.
With the walls being taken by the Lurians did Sir Zaxer Melinco make another heroic appearance. His singular action took down 3 Lurian warriors but in his reckless abandon and with the swing of his weapon in mid air did more Rendorian missiles find him. It pushed him aside and his armored arm saved him as he shielded himself. Pulled away by his cape with hands belonging to most trusted companions. The fight now took to the streets.
A booming sound heralded the opening of the Gates. Lurian fighters surged forwards and a sea of steel forced itself through the otherwise immense gates of Giask. First among them were the chargers of Ronan Maelodor. His horsemen were the tip of the spear and spears they met. Brave Ronan was dehorsed by a militiaman. The spear wicked and well forged. It sought his heart but the man could not place it better than his gut. Ronan was seen shouting in pain or fury or both. Then his image vanished in the sea of steel.
Sir Jericho Barrons had clambered down the steps, fighting all the way. The Kings of Luria were monsters in battle and tore everything to shreds when unleashing their inner Deamons. Jericho saw the mass of warriors in the streets of Giask. The plaza before the Great Gate was a slaughterhouse. Desperate men and women fought desperate men and women, there was no getting out. He joined the fray and his sword sang a tune from death's lyrics. Shintuk II's men found him though. In a tight formation had they moved through the crammed battle and now fell upon Jericho with unbridled fury. Cuts and slashes forced Jericho back and perhaps even to the ground. Life giving blood spilling from his body.
The streets were being lost, the fight was taken to the inner city, to the docks..
The Kings of Luria led the charge and over their heads there was a never ending cloud of arrows raining down on the Asylonians. Windows had been boarded up, doors locked and it seemed a stampede. Spears and swords for Horns and scared men trying to run for their lives or making final stands. The beast gored them, but not without sustaining injury. 2 Kings of Luria, Kamron and Idesbald took wounds. Both in melee and both were outwitted for a moment. A brief pause where their guard was circumvented and where steel met flesh.
Near the end or perhaps just before the end, hooves found a Royal body. The Chargers of Ronan, perhaps with him among their number found King Willhelm Buffalkill. He fought but was overcome as the Horsemen crashed into his men. Forcing space to be gone and for the weaker of the two to go down. A man is never as strong as a horse and neither was Willhelm. With a great display of martial prowess that yet proves too little, his flesh was marked by the sword and by the hoof.
Those that could, hid in the dark alleys. Some slithered away, more hid in taverns or in inns. Several managed to reach boats but most died. The battle for Giask never seemed much of a battle on paper perhaps but it were death-throes for those that were there.
Aldrakar walked the streets of the city of his lost Beloved and cried. Weeping without shame and he led the images of Lucini flood his mind. All around him soldiers were running with weapons still in hand. Seeking fleeing Asylonians or other more sinister opportunities, not Aldrakar though. He cried for her, to let her go from his heart and allowed space in it, for another. So ended yet another dark night for Giask, the Sun would reveal the horrors of men come morning.
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Hey there, a little complementary Rp written by a close friend of Aldrakar IC, of course. It speaks of Aldrakar and I wanted to save it. Hope you don't mind. Enjoy though, its politically loaded.
Written by the Player of Hendrick Madigan, former King (duke) of Sun Hall
A message bearing the Madigan seal is sent to all nobles of Luria.
I, Hendrick of House Madigan, King of Sun Hall, Master of House Madigan, Regent to the Emperor, and Heir to the Imperial Throne do hereby abdicate all my titles and holdings.
I will it that all titles hereditary - including the ancestral claims to the Shinnen Domain (granted in perpetuity by the advent of the Third Empire) and my family home in Thar Gortauth - as well as the title of Master of House Madigan pass to my son Seoras, until such time as my true born heir Caedemon comes of age.
Of Caedemon, I wish that my dear friend and former Knight, the most noble Aldrakar Renodin be responsible for his care and upbringing. I also must note that Lord Aldrakar is to be forever considered a legend of Sun Hall and like a son to me.
I bid the Emperor make a selection of his new Heir and Regent at his earliest convenience.
My regards to all,
Hendrick of House Madigan
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Because 1 Rp per great battle is never enough.
The Imperial Banner
With men surging around him and blood running in between the cobble upon which he stood Aldrakar drank in the nighmarrish vista and it burned into his mind. Bodies lay everywhere, dark crimson sprayed onto homes and drenched the city walls. As he took a step and then another he nearly tripped over a severed arm sporting a mangled hand.
Dogs were howling, barking and a desperate few of them, with ribs showing, gnawing on corpses with mad eyes full of glee. A heavy frown making way for resolution as it conquered his face. Aldrakar climbed a pile of crates and leaned against an Asylonian banner that stood on top of it. He gripped it with both hands and gave a great heave under which he roared his lungs out. Casting the banner aside it soon vanished under the boots of many Lurian soldiers.
''You! hand me that banner!'' He shouted to one of the Emperor's standard carriers. The Aquila of Luria Golden upon a field of Azure and Cherry Red. It was shrouded with shadows but the large braziers at the Main Gate of Giask provided enough light to give it a nasty glow.
Seeing the Soldiers like a river all around him and the pile of crates like a rock he planted the Imperial Lurian Banner where before stood the Asylonian. Wood splintered and holding the shaft with one hand Aldrakar closed his eyes as the nighttime wind tugged at his dark golden hair.
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Hey there, glad you're back. Today I got a nice little bit of writing about family values I suppose. Aldrakar in Giask with his 2 boys and then a third of a sort. Enjoy!
A Third Son
The day was gaining. The sun provided warmth, dispelling the lingering cold of the night that came before. Color, by the spouting seeds that blanketed the earth. The day grew slowly as light outlasted darkness. Aldrakar looked out of a small, stained glass window set in the ancient cobble wall. He saw children playing.
Since the Take over of Giask he had made a small tax collectors station his base of operations. It had quick access to the craftsman district to the west of the city. He had been focusing on them for they were the beating heart of Giask or so he believed. All produce went to them and transformed into something else of even greater value.
The room was small but well designed, much like the entire building. Figures a tax collector to spend money wisely and frugally. Putting down the quill several black droplets splashed onto the desk. Once they dried none could discern these new ones from the old ones. The desk was akin to a leopard and so it didn't fuss Aldrakar. Leaning back on the protesting chair he extended his arm and pushed open the little window, it too protested a little bit.
''Asher! Bring Caedemon inside will you, I want to speak to him.'' Aldrakar called to his youngest son. Asher stopped dead in his tracks as he let a leather ball roll away from him. ''Yes Daa!'' His reply followed swiftly.
Aldrakar glanced around the small enclosure that existed as part of the tax collectors office. It was lined with low olive trees providing shade and entirely meant as decoration. The placed was tiled with soft limestone, broken white in hue and gave off or attracted, whatever it was, a lot of dust. Servants swept often but it could always do with some more.
Enjoying the quiet for a brief moment Aldrakar heard the impending sound of running children. Some irregular knocking on his door preceded 2 children entering the small office. Aldrakar's eyes met Asher's. ''Thanks son.'' The look was enough to inform the boy that he shouldn't stay and he left again, leaving Ceademon, the Son and Heir of Hendrick Madigan, former King of Sun Hall alone with a renowned warrior.
Ceademon was a quiet boy, 11 summers by now and should know all the proper skills. He was trained hard by his father and relentlessly pushed to be the very best. A prodigy for any other family but just a Madigan to me, Hendrick had intoned. Aldrakar studied the dark haired and slender boy for a moment. The boy grew nervous and made a bow ''Caedemon Madigan, I bid you a good morning my Lord.'' he peeped. Sun spilled into the small office and reflected off the swirling dust particles giving the room an ethereal sheen.
''At ease boy, we know one another.'' His lips spread in a warm and welcoming smile. ''How are your studies going?'' Rooted in place Ceademon needed little time to reply ''My Latin is superb, Etiquette likewise, with Stewardship I made an error with my last project and Lurian History I was given top marks by Master Gilver.'' The words gave Ceademon confidence and Aldarkar smirked as he perceived it.
''What about poetry? What do you know of tactics, how good is your technique with a Rondel dagger and which type of fabric is best for marching tents?'' Arching his eyebrows high Aldrakar stared at a startled Ceademon. The boy was trained rather classically and knew little of the outside world. The nasty, dark and cruel, real.. world. ''I know some of the Askileon wordmaster's words.'' The boy remarked in a soft and defensive voice. The impressive warrior made an exaggerated nod. ''What.. is a Rondel sir..?'' White flashed on Aldrakar's face. His teeth catching the light and soon he laughed. ''It is a fine dagger that you'll need when you fight armored foes boy. Don't worry, you'll get familiar with one soon enough. What about the tents?''
Ceademon put a hand to his chin as he took on a thinking posture, a stance taught by etiquette and Aldrakar allowed some time. ''Cotton?'' Ceademon said at last. ''No. Cotton isn't the best.'' Aldrakar leaned back in his chair. ''Your father has asked me to resume your education Ceademon. Your numbers and letters are fine, continue them you shall but.'' He rose from his chair and crossed the small room towards the door. ''You'll have to do some catching up if you are to be a knight as well.'' He opened the door and strode deftly through the hallway towards the exit. ''You can ride but not fight from horseback. You don't know weapons and are a middling fighter at best for your age. You need to learn morals and poetry so you can truly see the beauty of the world and know its darkness when you face it. Darkness is a master at deception Boy and you need eyes able to perceive it.''
Ceademon had to run to keep up with the tall Warrior that was Aldrakar and felt unease at the prospect of his future. Little did he know that he was provided a huge boon by his father. Pushing open the door Aldrakar allowed Ceademon to catch up with him and together they stood facing the enclosure. Asher and Aldrakar II stood there looked back at them. The first a tiny bit shorter than the latter and both perfect replica's of their father if only much younger. ''Sons, Ceademon is now one of us. See him like a brother and treat him like family.'' The two boys regarded the older boy for a moment and Ceademon looked uncomfortable. ''Yes Father!'' Both sons chirped almost simultaneously. Aldrakar knew joy as he saw the three of them, Ceademon, Asher and Aldrakar II play with the ball that afternoon. Children made friends easily just as they could be cruel easily. Aldrakar stared at Ceademon and thought back on Hendrick, it was hard to realize the man would not be returning. Then he turned back to the papers again. Work was never done.
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Another bit of reading for your singular enjoyment. Not entirely true though. I wrote this Rp in response to a request from a new player joining Luria Nova. He was a famous warrior and general of Asylon and in his Rp joining Luria the old char died and a new knight arise from said dynasty. It was unique and epic and amazing. Really much detail and of course superb quality. I marveled. Here my humble Rp to help his char along on the way to reclaim some heritage. The old char died giving up armor and sword to his family but it got lost kinda.. Enjoy!
Heirlooms of a distant Knight
-In response to Helicaon Dmitros-
The sun was out today. Its rays warmed the roofs and puddles of rainwater were quick to vanish before its gentle stream of light. Aldrakar walked the streets of Giask and often stopped to talk with influential merchants, guild-masters and lesser nobility. Most of the higher nobility had been driven out and so a new order was settling in. An awkward reshuffling where low nobles replaced middle tier ones or even climbing all the way to the higher echelons of Giaskian Nobility. A tricky situation that demanded lots of attention and delicate debates and negotiations.
All was for the betterment of Giask however and Aldrakar made time available, he made the rounds and he put in his time on social calls. This morning he went to visit a minor noble who claimed to have found a magnificent suit of armor and wished to negotiate a fair price for it. He needed the money to ''secure'' a trade license for his family. Apparently he was in the fish oil and clam trade. Aldrakar had a small entourage with him that included his young page Marc and Ceademon, son of Hendrick Madigan. The boy had to learn politics so he had to come along.
Arriving at the edge of Giask, the western most district they rode up to a small estate. It really was just a tiny manor positioned on a cliff rise and flanked by meager rows of peach trees. The land was ill kept and the enclosing wall was shabby at best. A gaunt faced gate guard pushed open the creaking Iron gate. It looked like it belonged to another age entirely.
Not wanting to invite Aldrakar indoors the noble had arranged a barbecue. Several cream white, linen covered tables stood around a red brick contraption which fumed smoke as a cook was trying his best to prepare a meal of roast clams and rabbit. It was clear there were issues and everyone was on edge.
Aldrakar and company dismounted, horses handed over to instantly overworked servants and crowded stables. The lesser noble, Patrius by name greeted Aldrakar and the two exchanged some pleasantries. The ensuing meal was strange. Aldrakar affected pleasure and the food was decent but there was so much unspoken stress in the air. The retinue was larger than all the servants combined which didn't help either.
After what seemed to last an eternity Patrius finally took Aldrakar aside and led him to the back garden. Displayed in an open armoire made of dark brown oak inlaid with ivory and silver stood arrayed a magnificent suit of splendid armor. Truly a masterpiece but after staring at it, admiring really, Aldrakar noticed signs of wear and use. His face took on a neutral expression and he looked back at Patrius.
''Looks exquisite no? Master Aldrakar?'' The man smiled just too broadly.
Patrius didn't seem to have noticed that Aldrakar also had seen the wicked steel saber that lay below the armor on a separate stand. Designed so that it would fit perfectly in the wielders hand and protect it in ever swing with its natural, almost organic curve. So great was the craftsmanship that Aldrakar instantly discarded the notion that his low Noble acquired it by honest means.
Putting his hands together to form a triangle with his finger Aldrakar looked down for a bit and then look up at Patrius. He pursed his lips. ''This armor was never yours to sell.'' Glacial eyes bored into the weak man and his spine turned to liquid. Beads of cold sweat formed as Aldrakar swelled with an intake of air. ''You will deliver these items to my domicile in Giask and see to it personally that they arrive before the sun sets and without damage.'' Aldrakar's voice was calm like a mirror lake. Patrius nodded frantically ''Yes.. yes... Of course how could I think to sell the spoils of a dead man.. how ignoble! hehehe...''
Aldrakar left shortly after, but not before he informed the servants of what was to happen to the masterfully forged armor and saber. A Gold Lurian to any servant informing him if anyone planned otherwise. This ensured that none would think of spiriting the equipment away.
That very evening Aldrakar had that very ivory and silver inlaid armoire in his office and every bit of its content was present. It didn't please him though, a great warrior had died in it and never really got to experience the pleasure of using it. The next of kind should be informed.
The following morning Aldrakar send heralds out around the city to inform the people of the Masterful armor and Saber, their features, distinguishing markings and overall what it looked it. He hoped that a rightful heir would claim it, otherwise he had no clue yet what to do with it.
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Good afternoon. I know that's a gamble on my side but if you never risk it, you never gain it. So risk it I say! Totally not related to the below Rp but still some solid life advice hmm? Enjoy the writing, its part of an ongoing introduction of the character Helicaon Dmitros. The most epic new character ever in my opinion.
A Long Sun
Morning had made room for noon and as the world turned so did the sun cast long shadows just before the night claimed all. At this time, when shadows and sun were warring came a heavy knock on the door of Aldrakar's office in Giask. A man at arms opened the door as the servants had been given leave for the day. A master should never push his people and allow pleasure to rekindle hearts in time entirely of their own.
A man introduced himself as Gustaf and did so with practiced etiquette even though his garb told a different story. The sway of his body as he walked belied skills not so courtly and his eyes possessed the sheen of understanding. The man at arms was wary and asked for weapons. Gustaf produced a small array and then a dagger more. The soldier and him exchanged long looks that spoke entire book chapters. They were both men that had seen war and they came to a silent accord. Death if you try anything.
Gustaf was led into the room where Aldrakar sat at his desk. A small room with humble furniture and decorations. A stray toy horse painted black lay on the ground. Aldrakar rose from his chair to greet the visitor but decided instead to collect the toy as he noted that Gustaf was a commoner, at least by appearance. Gustaf held some distance as Aldrakar moved through the room. The noble warrior picked up the toy and ran his hand along the neck of the tiny horse. ''And whom do I have the pleasure of receiving at dusk?'' Aldrakar didn't wait for a reply and instead leaned against the desk, half sitting on it as he faced Gustaf, in his hands sat the toy horse still.
''My name is Gustaf, Lord Aldrakar. I learned that you are in possession of a suit of armor and a saber that I seek.'' Gustaf said the words confidently and made several appropriate hand gestures as he spoke. Aldrakar studied the man and calmly continued to listen. ''Helicaon Dmitros is next in line for one of the items and another noble for the other object.'' Gustaf expected a reply by now but as none came he continued. ''I would make sure the items see their proper recipient if you would relinquish them into my custody, my Lord.'' The two men exchanged a look and neither wavered.
Aldrakar's placed the docile looking toy of a black horse on the desk and pushed himself away from it. ''How do I know you are not lying..'' He let several other sentences die as he fell silent. ''You don't.'' Gustaf offered. ''In a short while there will be a servant of the noble Patrius claiming a man assaulted one of his servant and threatened his person. This is true, it is how I learned you have the armor and saber. Report me to the guards or slay me where I stand but do so knowing that I did not try to break in.'' Gustaf looked dead serious. ''People say you are a man of Honor and so I came to you like this, asking. Give me the armor and sword and I will see them restored to proper owners.'' Heavy bonking could be heard on the door of the small building. ''Let me in! I must see Lord Aldrakar Immediately!'' It was the shrill voice of Patrius.
The grim faced man at arms peaked his head into the office and Aldrakar nodded. The scarred face showed the smallest of smiles and vanished. ''Gustaf..'' Aldrakar began. ''I will see you provided with a cart, 4 armed men and my page to see to the armor.'' In the background the protests of Patrius could be heard as he was declined entry. ''Make sure you bring the items along a safe route and see that they reach whomever it is, deserves them.'' Akdrakar took careful steps towards Gustaf, eyeing him cautiously but soon just warmly. ''You are a good man.'' He placed a hand on Gustaf's shoulder who was slightly taken aback, not used to the treatment.
Turning back to the desk Aldrakar called for Ulfkil, the grim man at arms and told him to gather 3 of his finest to escort Gustaf and he was to lead them himself. The mean looking warrior nodded his assent and left again. ''Don't worry, Ulfkil is a good one to have in a fight.'' Aldrakar said as he penned a quick note which he gave to Marc after calling the boy of 11 summers into the room. ''See to the arrangements Marc, don't disappoint me, make me proud.'' The boy saluted quite like a tiny soldier and set about achieving the given task.
So Gustaf was seen leaving the compound with a leather covered cart containing the armoire with splendid armor and the masterful saber. Drawn by an ox and flanked by 4 seasoned swordsmen that once belonged to the Rendorian Shieldguard. Not to forget Marc the page, he sat next to the nameless driver who seemed an honest sort.
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Hello there. This time a short Rp about Aldrakar arriving in Askileon, the capital and promptly leaving again. Just had to do some Banking stuff but I felt like writing something to illustrate. So a little gossip story seemed right. Just to give the other players in the City something nice to read. Send only to those in the city mind you, not realm wide.
No name given
The ferry flying the colors of House Renodin was sighted mooring a busting pier. Most curious amongst their number was a company of bankers. Bankers! of all the variety of people one might spot on a dock their ilk rarely left the comforts of their decadent dwellings. Spring however must've ushered them out but surely it wasn't just good weather than had drawn them.
A blond haired man of fairly impressive posture departed the ship, at least impressive from a distance I'm sure.. or so I'm told. Anyhow, as this man disembarked and was flanked by a quartet of swordsmen donned in the Livery of House Renodin did the small company of bankers rush him. A keen observer could spot a small litter behind them. A chest upon it and several mean looking guards around it, armed with short swords mind you.
The chest found its way up onto the deck of the ship where it soon vanished from sight, below decks. The blond man, one Aldrakar if I heard correct turned on his heels and went back up the gangplank! Several bankers waved documents in the brisk air but were met with glares from the Bondsmen. That's how I heard it at least. Aldrakar only saw the docks of Askileon before he went back to Giask again. Silly nobles, who can understand them anyway.
The soldier muttered the story to his friends as you per chance overheard. Supposedly he heard it again in a tavern, from a wine merchant who happened to have been on a ship next to the Renodin's. Commoners, who can trust them anyway.
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Bonesera, did I spell that right? Probably not. Anyhow. I have a nice, warm, little Rp for you. Its not about people for a change for about a city. Hope it catches the imagination as I envisioned but only you can tell me if I succeeded. Enjoy!
The new days of Giask
With the sun steady in the heavens and shining brightly over the massive city of old Luria did the sounds of laughter echoe once more through her streets. Children played and the sun kissed their skin and made their hair like straw. Thick and golden or reddish brown where it was once near black. Restorative works were well under way all across the city and many Lurian Nobles walked the streets.
Inns and taverns and squares alike were ablaze with renewed life and every bench and table was lined with revelers. Where war raged outside the epic city walls it was business as usual inside of them. More even, it was revival. Hope had once more been restored not in the past and neither focused on invader realms but on momentarily forgotten traditions. True Lurian traditions.
The walls were whitewashed again, giant frescoes restored and verdant boulevards restored with plume trees and rose bushes of every color imaginable. Cobblers were breaking their backs as they laid fresh stones in the unending roads and ensured that carts heavy with craft were once more able to pump life into the housing blocks. Trade was returning to the isolated city. Asylon had no trade, it had no true friends in the last moments of its existence and yet now. In her last days Lurian traders from Shinnen, Askileon and even far Poryatown, through road of Orz made it to Giask. Children ran and played, the skirts of girls almost translucent with the bight rays of the sun, not to mention what the maidens did in the fountains, and the tunics of boys nearly always torn for True Lurian stock played hard, worked hard and always kept their spirits high. At least that's what any mentor would tell you.
The smell of dung was also present and that of fresh earth. Pots were filled with good soil as vegetation was shown a new home and produced fresh air even in the inner quarters. The manure was from beasts of burden and the civic services of the city were still organizing to deal with this latest sign of prosperity. Life would return to the way it should be, True Lurian values and good but hard living.
Aldrakar walked the streets dressed in a heavy cotton tunic of rich brown stitched with gold tread and adorned with creme white borders of an intricate design. His belt was made of well tooled boar-hide and gloves of soft doeskin dyed a light grey like the moon on some rare occasions. His hair was oiled and looked more dark than bright but still had that golden shine. His fingers were home to several rings and one in particular was opulent, it was a ring from Lucini. A heavy golden one that shouted decadence but for once, Aldrakar did't mind. He wore it proudly and the people knew it for what it was. A sign of old days returning. The good old days.
He was seem making many stops and his retainers, a cadre of perhaps 10 men all wore fine armors and swords and short-bows but also good cloaks and fineries that made them look less like hard soldiers and more like a part of the picture of a reviving Lurian colossus. For that was what Giask truly was, a Colossus of Luria rising once more.
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Hey everyone! Wee little Rp just to illustrate Aldrakar taking up the Lordship of Giask. Little things help a great deal towards the bigger picture I feel.
With carts packed and servants milling about Aldrakar left the small tax collectors house he'd been occupying for these last weeks as the City was converted back to Lurian Rule. Now he and his family, the 3 boys trailing behind him, went up the main boulevard straight for the Ducal Palace that would be their new home. The Golden Roofed building with all its splendor still caught the imagination even though it sat in disrepair. Old glory fades slowly and a new Lord took residence.
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Hello and welcome. Back so soon? No matter I like your presence regardless. Stay a while and read what I have for you. Its a piece on what I hope will become a nice little RP. send to 3 different people at the same time. Figured it would be nicer and be more in line with Lore and flair than a simple letter invitation only. Enjoy!
A Graceful Invitation
A runner came to reach you. It wasn't just a simple runner though but an official Herald decked in the rich brown colors of House Renodin but accentuated with the Golden symbols of the City of Giask. He wore a quality sword decorated with topazes and carried on his person a heavily decorated scroll-containers to be handed over to your person. Your guards, after stopping the man, allowed him to deliver his message, that being the sealed container.
Should you open it inside the following content is stored:
A heavy ivory scroll container engraved with a city scape of Giask in full glory. The sun gilded in gold and the sea set with tiny turquoise gemstones.
Contains: A heavy scroll of exceptional quality linen mixed with parchment fibers, fit for a dozen reuses at least.
Esteemed visitor to Giask,
It has come to my attention that you are currently in my city and possibly work towards its restoration. Where I would loathe for you to seek accommodations elsewhere in the many fine Inn's or minor palaces or even from befriended local nobility I would offer you temporary residence in the Golden Palace. All your needs would be provided for and given as my pleasure.
The deliverer of this scroll should act as your guide should you desire it and he was explicit instruction to be your guide and personal herald for as long as you desire to stay in my City.
I look forwards to your presence at the Palace and shall strive to welcome you at my table come dusk. You will forgive me if I cannot greet you initially, in person. The city demands my attention and so does the realm.
With respect,
Aldrakar Renodin
Margrave of Giask
As your eyes rise from the expensive scroll written in a beautiful hand (those familiar with Aldrakar might realize its not his handwriting) the graceful herald meets your gaze for a brief moment and dips into an exquisite bow. ''Am I yours to serve, shall I provide guidance to the Golden Palace?''
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Hello again and welcome! Today I'll have an Rp in much the same vein as one of the earlier ones. (I guess the same is true for all the battle Rp's I've written hehe) Anyhow, a civil Rp for once. Noble conduct and all that. Enjoy!
An invitation to the Lord Ambassador of Morek
The bustling streets of Giask were lined with farmers once more happy to sell their goods gotten from the Lurian farmlands. Merchants reopened stalls laden with goods and the once empty fountains were jetting water high into the air again. Children were playing in the basins splashing one another while some were content to simply sit on its edge and gossip or tease. Several young mothers looked upon them with worry in their eyes or delight, the same was true for young women not quite yet a mother.
Flanked by 2 ornately garbed men at arms decked in partial plate and wearing surcoats of rich brown and decorated with the golden symbols of the City of Giask walked a Tall and handsome man. Short cropped, light brown hair and with warm, brown eyes set above a strong nose. He walks with purpose and people made way as he cut through the growing crowd.
His 2 companions looked fine but hardly as fine as he did. His mantle was akin to theirs and a rich brown indeed decorated with the symbols of Giask. he wore a splendid suit of clothing that seemed tailored fit to his frame and on his belt he wore a fancy sword studded with yellow topaz.
Upon arriving at the noble he was send to find did Juan made a measured but still elaborate bow. ''Greetings Light of the Auspicious Star, Elder of Sanguis Astroism Lyrus, Lord and Ambassador of the Morek Empire. My name is Juan of the House Aldamara and I present myself as Herald to the Esteemed house Renodin, under the instruction of the Lord of Giask, My master, Aldrakar.'' Rising from his bow he produced from his satchel a heavy ivory scroll container engraved with a city scape of Giask in full glory. The sun gilded in gold and the sea set with tiny turquoise gemstones.
He held it out to Lord Lyrus and waited politely for him or his servants to accept it. Juan smiled calmly and seem to hold the posture without any apparent effort.
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Afternoon! Here I'll have an Rp for you that has nothing to do with warfare, nothing to do with plotting and nothing to with farming either. If that has your interest piqued I suggest you read on. Enjoy.
Toddlers in the Palace
The sun rose early today and banished the dark of night as it ascended towards its zenith. Where it turned the ocean a mirror of gold and the hills surrounding Giask lush and green so did its rays glimmer of the domes of the Palace. Tiny black ships sailed through golden waters and moved like those of an ever changing painting so beautiful. Aldrakar gazed out over the Grand Harbor from his high perch standing on the balcony of hos bedroom. His eyes tracing the goods from ship to dock to carts and in a long stream towards the warehouses and from there again to the markets. Shadows were long in the morning.
He turned away from the vista and headed back into his room. It was amazing. Not a month before was he sleeping in field tents and trudging through the cold mud of winter and spring but now.. His bedroom was larger than most ale halls. He looks about for a moment and knew mirth and chuckled. ''What am I going to put in here?'' He shook his head and walked to one of wardrobes. His hands guided him towards a fine fabric, he wasn't sure what it was called but it was really soft and nice. He clad himself in the robe and went bare feet to the exit, his stomach demanded food. Somethings never change.
Walking on the polished marble floors of the hallway he rubbed at his eyes in an attempt to wake his half slumbering eyes and dragged some hair from his face. He snorted. The robe fit brilliantly but Aldrakar had been too lazy to tie it properly, some of his bare chest was displaying and added to the -fresh from bed- look. Lamps were being refueled by servants who were both utterly silent and immaculate in their behavior. Aldrakar eyed them awkwardly and though. If we had soldiers so well trained we'd have won the war by now!
Arriving at a large, domed hall Aldrakar heard a familiar sound. The hall was circular, impossibly high and decorated with columns of pristine marble, the finest drapings and so much finery it shone like a tiny sun. It was bright, fragrant and even contained a small garden worth of exotic plants. Discrete servants attended Aldrakar and offered him a basin to wash his hands. Another informed him of messages received. A third told him of domestic issues in a soft voice and a forth held a list of visitors already waiting on him. Aldrakar frowned deeply and pushed through them. ''Later.. give me some time, alright?'' The familiar sound was that of his son, Asher, playing with 2 of the hounds. They were well bred wardogs but not held in any warcamp. They were raised from pup by the Stable-master and he had selected them for their good nature. Aldrakar had chosen to gift them to his sons so they may know the joys of having pet companions. They were as large as small cows and incredibly muscular but also playful.
They had quickly taken to guarding little Asher and Aldrakar II. The two boys in return favored them with play and bits of food. Ohh how that infuriated the kitchen chef. Aldrakar grinned and called over his son. ''Asher! Come give your father a kiss!'' He sat down on a very comfortable chair that by itself cost a fortune. He didn't care for the wealth. Asher rushed up to Aldrakar and Grog charged with him. Grog being one of the two War-dog pets, the brown one.
Aldrakar lifted Asher up with both hands and played with him for a while before the two embraced and Asher planted a kiss on Aldrakar's cheek. ''Where's your brother hmm?'' Aldrakar asked. Asher pointed to the other end of the long table and revealed Aldrakar II studiously coloring in a drawing made previously, the outline that is, by one of the court Poets. The man was dismayed at the havoc being exacted on his work but feinted a smile. Aldrakar put Asher down on his feet and petted Grog on his bulky head, the two exchanged a brief look and like soldier and Commander Aldrakar gave a curt nod. The dog seemed to understand and it was eerie.
Walking over to the other side of the table Aldrakar placed a hand on his son's shoulder and admired his work. Giving several pointers and then ruffled the boy's hair. ''Keep at it son.'' He then turned his attention to the poet. A well build man of considerable beauty. Aldrakar squinted his eyes at the man from close up. ''Don't turn him into a soft bodied lout.'' Several muscles flexed in his arms and neck and the poet seemed to have received the intended message.
Cracking his neck Aldrakar moved off again, servants pouncing on the opportunity to dote on him and draw his attention to issues requiring his attention. ''Shoo!'' He waved at them dismissively. ''Let me dress first you damned vultures!'' He said the words with joy and smiled broadly at them. They relaxed visually and returned his smile. ''I'll be dressed soon enough and then we can begin this circus again, alright?'' He exchanged looks with several of them. ''Alright then, I'll be back soon. Don't you get in your thick heads that I need help getting dressed!'' He grinned as he left for his bedroom.
And so another busy day began for Aldrakar Renodin, administration was almost more arduous than warfare, almost.
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Good afternoon! It's been a while but then again I've been rather busy writing letters. That doesn't mean I haven't Rp-ed. I've just not posted them all here. Here I have a proper Rp again. One about shopping and money. Not exactly in the context you first might assume but read on and find out I'd say.
Swordshopping in Askileon
''What's that Sergeant?'' The words spoken with an undertone of sarcasm. The ocean in the back mirrored the blue of his eyes as Aldrakar turned his gaze to the leather skinned man dressed in linked mesh maille and a rich brown tabard depicting the Symbols of Giask and House Renodin. ''Sir, I just don't agree with giving away all that gold.'' The older man's face crumpled up with wrinkles as he frowned heavily. Wrinkles and scars, truth be told.
They were walking side by side through the streets of Askileon. The hustle and bustle of life streaming past them and the cries of gulls ever close by. Aldrakar paid a stallholder a few coppers for a wrap of warm bread stuffed with meat and vegetables which he readily took a bite from. The sergeant did much the same although he didn't have to pay. ''Does Giask need more coin? I don't think so, it's rebuilding well and even with the new projects there is just plenty of coin to go around.'' Licking some of the juice from his lips Aldrakar continued.
''It's not like the men need more pay, they are well provided for.'' His tone more imperious than he had intended and quickly realized his mistake in the expression of his companion. ''No sir, you are correct.'' The sergeant allowed some time to pass and occupied it with eating his own meal. The two of them passed by a smithy, a proper forge. The master Smith specialized in Swords that much was obvious from the fine array of blade on display.
''Master Aldrakar, Sir?'' Their eyes met. ''I understand the Realm needs coin but why try so hard to impoverish yourself at every turn?'' The question hang in the air between then as they entered the smithy's shop. They rummaged through the wares and felt several swords and tried their balance. ''The City was a Gift.'' Aldrakar said finally. ''It belonged to my Wife before me and now it belongs to me. I want the Realm to prosper and to do that I have to do as I do. Give gold to others.''
A smiling target dummy made of straw and leather straps and wood had little reason to smile as both Aldrakar and the Sergeant struck at it a couple of times, testing several more blades. ''Besides Sergeant, coin can only buy so much. Gratitude and Loyalty is rarely for sale.'' Aldrakar inspected a sword with an azure blue handle and a blade that showed the thousands of folds of steel that comprised its blade. Well polished and yet dark grey of sheen but with countless coiling veins of white.
''Smith, I'll take this one.'' Aldrakar called to the middle aged man with arms that could have belonged to an award winning wrestler. The Master Smith nodded curtly but his face lit up with a radiant smile. ''Aye, milord. A fine choice!'' Aldrakar glanced quickly at his Sergeant. ''I want it's sister blade also, for my man here.'' He indicated the sergeant with a simple hand gesture. The smith nodded again and set about collecting the two swords, scabbards and swordbelts. He also added 2 proper whetstones and 2 clay containers of oil and a good thick bit of cloth for cleaning.
Aldrakar paid the man in hard silver, probably more than he had to but he hadn't asked the price and didn't dicker either. Judging the Master smith's expression he had paid well enough. The man never ceased bowing and thanking him until he had exited the very street the Master Smith called home.
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Welcome back, or.. if you are new to this thread: Hello! Stay a while and enjoy yourself. Here I'll share with you a small Rp that I wrote as a little something something for the Nobles and Advies that happened to be in Askileon Purlieus. With it I wanted to create a bit of ambiance. I imagined people would see things as they traveled, what could they be seeing as My char traveled through the same region? That kind of thing. Hope it had the desired effect of adding to the atmosphere.
Headed for the Silver City
Riding towards the outskirts of Askileon Purlieus from the outstretching farmlands and wilderness that lay beyond was a man with dark golden hair. The wind whipped it up as no ribbons or human hands had restrained it in anyway. It sprawled around an angular face with a strong nose set below sockets that held glacial blue eyes.
Close behind were 3 more riders, all companion cavalry by the looks of it. Behind them came a line of some 80 men with short recursive bows and an assortment of close combat weaponry. All of them wore the rich brown tabard of House Renodin and all of those were decorated with the symbols of Giask. A single man stood out, a grizzled veteran who bore an impressive banner that reached for the sky.
As the troop marched did its leader ride on and raised his hand as he hailed the various Nobles whom he could identify in Askileon Purlieus. They seemed headed for Askileon, that much was clear as there was no other destination really except the Silver City beyond the Purlieus.
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Let's see if this fits. Haha! it does. I find that battle or combat orientated Rp's always take the most time. It just takes so much detail to properly describe a fight. So much to tell so much to keep track of. I hope you like this one. It's a bit of a read and it is a good fight, I hope you will agree at least at the latter. Enjoy!
A Silver Morning
Having arrived just this morning it the road still showed on him. Dirt clung to his cape, his hair sticky with dried sweat and his boots foul with the caked mud of last night's downpour. Strange, he thought to himself. He had been out traveling on the one night the heavens decided to open up and inundate the land with summer rains.
The clank and subsequent grunt that followed the impact brought him back to reality. ''Good!'' A gruff voice called ''Next time don't shift your weight so obviously.'' Aldrakar's eyes found his grizzled captain standing on the training court. The older man was educating one of the younger soldiers that made up Aldrakar's Guard. Askileon was a beautiful city. Where the summers were brutal had its inhabitants long mastered the use of waterways.
Crisscrossing the districts stood huge aqueducts decorated with art and some sported massive plaster-work cups, if you would. From them hung fragrantly blossoming vines and other such plants. On walking level there was an equal amount of visible amount of water coursing through the metropolis. Channels, fountains and regular cisterns exited in a neat but exceptionally intricate grid throughout the Silver City. It was because of this that the sight of children playing in the fountains was common and a favorite way to escape the heat of the mid summer sun. Girls encroaching on womanhood were warded off by their mothers but this wasn't always as easy to do with the lure of the fresh water beckoning everyone.
Arriving in the morning gave Aldrakar an easy enough reason to avoid matters of state for an hour or two. He had to recover from his journey. That was his official excuse anyway, in truth he enjoyed the time to himself. Time he could spend pursuing one of his favorite pastimes, swordplay. His eyes eagerly drank in the fluid motions displayed by the master swordsmen on the training squares at the Palace Baracks. His men were doing their best to measure up to the Royal Guard and perhaps a few of them did but a man not solely dedicated to the art will never truly surpass a master. These men were masters one and all. Having stood against invading armies, assassins and perhaps more challenging, each other.
Pushing himself off from the soft sandstone wall where the weapons were arrayed Aldrakar picked up two wooden training swords and slowly paced past the practicing men. The sun was already on the rise but it wasn't too hot yet, as any fighting knew this far south of the continent. Do the hard work early or rather late, else you toil in the sun. All around him he could hear grunting, whispered footwork skirting over the smooth stone surface of the square and the intermingled sounds of impact. Some soft and some hard as wood struck leather or against wood of another practice sword.
Aldrakar rested his preferred practice sword on his right shoulder, allowing his hand to cling onto its grip. The other he held in his other hand, allowing its tip to brush against the ground. With as much casual swagger as he could muster he continued on his way, spying out a potential parring partner. His eyes finally found a sun kissed man in his early thirties. Hair brown but light and skin that shone with sweat and health. He was handsome and had the quiet confidence of an excellent warrior. Their eyes met.
''Morning.'' Aldrakar offered. ''Morning Lord.'' The swordsman replied. His voice was soft yet rich. It vexed Aldrakar, a common born man yet so blessed by the gods with beauty and skill. ''You fight well, what is your name?'' The swordsman looked down as he smirked as Aldrakar addressed him again. ''My name is Astrada, Lord.'' He didn't elaborate and his eyes were bright as he looked Aldrakar over.
With deliberate and carefully measured motions did Aldrakar undo himself of his rich brown cape and took off his jacket. ''May I have the pleasure of testing myself against your skill Astrada?'' The items he handed to Marc, his teenage page, who in turn folded them and put them aside. Astrada bowed but never let his eyes leave Aldrakar. ''It would be my Honour, Lord. First to three?'' That meant, first man to score three hits on the other.
Aldrakar gave him a sidelong glance and nodded. ''Very well, first to three.'' He handed his sword-belt to Marc and then handed a practice sword to Astrada. No fancy motions, simply handing it to him, grip first. Astrada accepted but in the short moment that both men held the wooden sword an unspoken sense of seriousness descended upon them both. The spell broken as Aldrakar let go and both men eyeing one another.
The soft and gentle touch of the wind seemed like a lover's caress. The thin strand of hair that swung through his field of vision became transparent as his eyes focused on Astrada and the sound of his fingers gripping the handle of his wooden sword the only sound registered by his ears as all others were canceled out by deep concentration. One foot was placed in front of the other and then both men were joined in a graceful and expert dance of combat.
Astrada waited a long time and it made Aldrakar nervous. The man seemed to be a mountain of peace, he took time and it never made his resolve crumble. Feints were already registered by both sides as they faked steps and overcame these feints with fluid steps like a meticulously choreographed piece. He tried to bait Astrada to abandon his peace with several simple jabs and almost blatant offers to engage him but the man refused.
In an attempt to force a reaction Aldrakar took a direct step closer to Astrada. Dangerous as the closer you get the more difficult parrying becomes, especially with the long weapon that is the sword. It didn't seem to bother Astrada and he adjusted his guard but didn't do much else. A few blows were exchanged, low to the legs and working their way up to the waist but both men parried them with little effort.
Astrada exploded in a flurry of action as he seized up an opportunity when Aldrakar glanced at his feet. A powerful side-way cut to his shoulder threatened to breach his defence but Aldrakar got his parry in place in time. The cut transformed shape and became a chop, still to the shoulder. Aldrakar realized his error and struggled to lift his sword to correct his parry. His face became a snarling mass as he felt the muscles in his arm and shoulder protest as the endured the impact his parry earned him. Before he could recover for a counter had Astrada leaped back and had resumed his peaceful stance again. The only part of him ablaze where his eyes, like the cauldron of the vulcano.
The dance was on and the two were like two moths around an invisible fire they both coveted. Astrada tried again with a brilliant feint in the form of a true stepping in for a lunge but morphing his attack into a grapple. Aldrakar defended with a supposedly correct parry but soon found his sword arm gripped by a powerful hand. Astrada twisted up, his fingers burrowing into Aldrakar's flesh. A soft roar escaped Aldrakar's lips as pain mingled with frustration and he rolled with the motion so to speak. He allowed the twist but followed it with his free hand and deflected the guard of Astrada's sword that was meant to smash into his face. Astrada was now faced with the difficult choice of either letting go of Aldrakar's sword arm and disengaging or trying to press the attack.
In his moment of consideration did Aldrakar heave him from the ground as he wrapped him free arm around Astrada's midrif and bore him down to the ground. The went down hard and erupted into a struggle. ''Halt!'' A booming voice called. They both ceased and saw a near bald and ugly giant of man watching them. ''Get up and ready for round 2!'' It was a real order and even Aldrakar felt the urge to instantly obey. The big man was the court master, the trainer.
Astrada got to his feet easy enough ''That is one to you I believe, Lord'' Aldrakar nodded, he found himself breathing heavily. Some of the men in the practice court were now watching them. It wasn't everyday that a Lord of the Realm came and parred with one of their own. The men were talking among themselves, Aldrakar gathered as much but his ears refused to hear the words. Round two began.
This time Astrada didn't wait. He advanced cautiously but with displayed danger as he cut and slashed at Aldrakar. Deflecting blows was easy enough but not when they came on and on. Gut, chest, leg leg and shoulder. The combinations varied and sped up as Astrada sought the opening.
Several feints were barely so for they whizzed past Aldrakar's face. His golden locks ranging far in front of his eyes as they stuck together with sweat. Teeth were shown as mouths opened to gulp down air. Vision became narrow, Astrada, his sun kissed brown hair. The incoming wooden sword. A whaff of sweat, not his own. Aldrakar felt his arms tire, he wouldn't be able to keep this up. Astrada seemed unfussed with the constant motions. He flicked his wrist and gave some of the most sublime feints and transformations he'd seen in a long time.
It was more instinct than rational thought or planning. Astrada had ventured too close in an attempt to raise the swordplay till their shoulders and above. Aldrakar was forced to join the high play and felt confidence flood him as he saw what he had to do. Kicking out with his right boot he scraped the shin and knee of Astrada. The man had expected it. He turned with the kick, his sword cut the air and his other hand pushed Aldrakar's leg, unbalancing him. Pain blossomed from the side of his gut. Like a thunder bolt had Astrada's sword fallen onto his body and it hurt like a rabbit biting your finger off.
The two disengaged and Aldrakar unconsciously placed his hand over the impact site. It was sore, it throbbed and he knew it would weaken his swordplay. He nodded appreciatively at Astrada who didn't gloat but prepared himself for round 3. Aldrakar heard men cheering, he had a moment to wonder why but then the fighting continued.
He was given no quarter. Astrada fell upon him like a wave. Furious combinations executed with years worth of training. The two men danced for two dozen heartbeats and that was a long time in a fight, many mistakes could have been made but weren't. A devastating chop borne from a midrif swing promised to make mush of Aldrakar's gut, again. Astrada's blow had already passed Aldrakar's parry and in desperation did Aldrakar allowed himself to fall backwards and attempted to knee Astrada's grip or there about. He felt the impact of the ground and then of the sword. It didn't hurt that much, but it was a hit. Astrada lay beside him and looked surprised but composed himself quickly.
The blow would've been turned easily enough by armour if it was a real fight but the Big, bald man was relentless. ''That's a Hit! One for the Lord and Two for Astrada!'' Aldrakar pushed himself off from the ground and gave Astrada a nod that was returned. The fight was on again.
The two men joined in the middle of their space as they went at one another like death would be the price and life the reward. The hair on their heads danced like it had a life of its own. Drops of sweat leaped from their faces and stained the rock floor. Cut, cut, swipe. Followed by a test of wills as they exchanged lunges, one after the other and both tried to grapple like streetfighters. Both failed against the other.
Teeth flashed white and Astrada endured a savage blow he barely managed to parry and nearly broke through his parry. He had been forced in an awkward pose by Aldrakar but held. The fight continue as blows were traded but both men were getting tired.
The sun was starting to creep up on the training court. Slowly banishing the shade that remained. Astrada launched another of his dazzlingly quick attack combinations. Aldrakar had to simply back off at the end of the second combination arrayed against him. Astrada pushed on.
Both men had a good feeling for the other by now and getting the jump on your opponent was getting tougher. Astrada seemed to have a trick for this as he started to use his free hand to tempt Aldrakar. Threatening to push his blade, to force it away perhaps with his forearm when they got close or even to grapple.
Aldrakar didn't like the new stance of Astrada and answered with a series of heavy attacks. Swipes and chops, Astrada saw the attacks for what they were and dodged most of them, the rest he deflected expertly. More simpler blows were exchanged but they were started to become ragged. Meant higher or truer but becoming sloppy. Astrada managed a swordlock by mistake. The guards sang towards one another and then crashed together. Aldrakar was first to exploit the opportunity and levered his sword down at Astrada. The man was on his ass as if the ground had given away! The blade never touched him.
Astrada's fist shot out and struck Aldrakar on the side of his knee. A half scream sounded from his throat and he struck downward at the apparently, not downed opponent. Astrada succeeded in parrying the first blow, the second and the third he rolled away from. He got to his feet and caught Aldrakar's followup stab and then both their swords were linked together and to the side. They were abreast and Aldrakar utilized his speed to deliver a headbutt. Astrada evaded it, their heads scraped one another. He pushed Aldrakar off him and countered with his sword.
Attempting to regain his balance Aldrakar struggled to offer a proper defense. Astrada smirked. Left, left, top and swipe down. Aldrakar felt rather than sensed what was about to happen. In his mind's eye he could -see- the combination before it happened. His hands worked without thought. His parry was perfect, he carried Astrada's sword in a half circular motion from right to left, up and down and disposed of Astrada's blade there. In a mighty backhand he struck Astrada in the face with the guard of his sword.
Astrada recoiled from the blow and had one probing hand on his jaw, it would bruise later. ''That's two against two! Resume!'' The bald man called.
Aldrakar readied himself and felt sweat pour down his back and legs. His groin felt damp and uncomfortable. The wet fabric was making his skin raw. He tried to block out the discomforts. Astrada locked eyes with him and they exchanged a final nod.
They paced carefully towards one another. Started to circle and moved with tired limbs. Astrada made several obvious, bodily feints. Aldrakar responded with snap strokes of his sword. Pushed away easily enough but showed he still had bite in him rather than go defensive. Astrada went in low. He bend his knees and targeted Aldrakar's legs.
A desperate struggle ensued. Attacker and defender parried, struck and balanced. That last was perhaps the hardest of the three.
The years of perfection showed. Astrada was a beautiful swordsman and superb warrior. He measured his attacks and drew his lunges. He forced Aldrakar to jump. Something extremely taxing at this stage in the fight. Lifting a leg is much harder than lifting an arm. Just imagine the size difference.
Both men clawed for that small something that would deliver onto them victory. One last stroke of brilliance, some bit of luck. It came as Aldrakar trapped Astrada's blade under his boot. Fierce joy in his eyes as he brought his sword to bear against Astrada who was forced to abandon his sword to the ground. Jabbing and short cuts barraged Astrada. Energy surged through Aldrakar, the early elation of victory ever so close.
Astrada stumbled back and then he had him! It was a feint. Astrada faked stepping back and instead knelt down. Aldrakar had swung his blade in a right to left swipe at Astrada's shoulder. The man's arm shot out in a daring move and as he powered himself off his feet and towards Aldrakar. He the faster of the two. His arm managed to reach the guard of the sword and slightly beyond. Astrada first blocked the swipe and then pushed the sword away. Aldrakar saw the brilliance of the daring move but was powerless against it now. Both men went down, Astrada straddling Aldrakar. ''Yield, Lord?''
Aldrakar opened his eyes to find a sweating, panting Astrada sitting on top of him. The practice sword across his neck.
Joy flooded his body, it banished the pain and he laughed out loud into the silence that surrounded them. ''I yield! Amazing fight!'' Aldrakar called loudly. Astrada flashed him a roguish grin and stood up, offering Aldrakar a hand. ''It was a pretty good bout I'd say.'' He allowed himself. All around them men were laughing, clapping shoulders and cheering the two combatants.
Marc hurried up to them and offered both of them a drink of cold water. Naturally both Aldrakar and Astrada accepted eagerly, their eyes locked when they were both drinking deeply and both sparkled. Forcing himself to take a breath Aldrakar placed a hand on Astrada's Shoulder. ''Be my man, fight for me. I'll take care of you, your woman and your family.'' Astrada recoiled slightly and paused for a moment in thought. ''Whatever it is they pay you here, I will match it and double it. It is not the coin I care for but I would not be able to forgive myself if I didn't offer you service with me. You are an exceptional Swordsman and I would be honoured to have you by my side.''
Astrada looked around at the men cheering and laughing. A good many of them were nodding to him, encouraging him. He looked back at Aldrakar. ''Double pay and 20 pieces of gold up front, as a starting bonus.'' He offered his arm in a warrior's greeting. It was Aldrakar's turn to smirk. He clasped Astrada's proffered arm and nodded sagely.
And that is how Aldrakar employed one of the Swordmasters of Askileon.
-
Hey again! This time I've got something different. It's essentially a letter +
By that I mean I send a letter and wrote a little Rp or details around it to give that little bit extra flare or whatever you wanna call it. Enjoy!
The Scroll and the Case
One of your servants approaches you with a dark wood and long box or case. He places it near you and hands you a heavy and fibrous scroll, easily able to be used at least a dozen times more. Actually, it seems the scroll has never been reused before even.
Lord Marshal Charles,
May late summer still hold as much shine as it did at its height.
This letter is just a social call, no worries. How have you been and what have you been up to? Myself I've learned that there are still things I can do to improve my swordplay. The other day I came upon a remarkable swordsmith in the craftsman district in the Silver City. A noisy place to be sure but I feel its good to occasionally walk the streets and let people see you.
The proprietor was a man that surely must have mountains and menhir's for kin! In his shop I found two exquisite blades. Folded Steel like the old Pian en Luries used to do. The natives of Askileon before the Empire. The blade is dark grey as you may see for yourself soon and all along there is this web of white lines like metallic marble! Truly a fabulous piece. As Fissoa's borders are usually drawn in blue on the world map I've taken the liberty to assume you would like the blue leather grip.
As I was saying, I've been shown a few tricks on the practice court as I had the pleasure of sparring against of the Swordsmasters of the Silver City Barracks. I had no clue he enjoyed that rank but I surely will remember now! We had a good bout, first to three hits. I managed to tackle him which apparently counted as a hit and then I managed another hit on him but I feel it was more luck then anything else. He squarely beat me and even knocked me off my feet. It was a joy to fight that man.
I've since employed him and should we ever meet in the future I will ensure he is present so you may meet him, Astrada of Askileon.
Your friend,
Aldrakar Renodin
Imperial Magistrate of Luria Nova
Margrave of Giask
After reading the letter your eyes wander over to the slender and long, mahogany box inlaid with mother of pearl in the symbols of House Renodin mixed with House Reding. The fittings seamlessly worked into the contraption and no metal work or hinges are showing, even when you open the box.
Inside you discover its lined with blue velvet and contains 3 mahogany supports topped with deep shaded aquamarine as to prevent damage to the wood. Upon these supports rest a beautifully forged longsword. Its blade is double edged and straight like an arrow. The metal is a deep anthracite in hue and contains an impossibly intricate network of hair-thin, white veins throughout.
The handle is large enough to hold with two hands but should you try the balance its clearly intended to be wielded with the one hand. Soft and immaculately tooled Nubuck surrounds it and has soft nubs under it for ease of grip. The pommel is oval in shape and holds a singular marquise cut, splendid blue sapphire.
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Evening, as I find it outside that is at least. Early evening mind you. I gots a little sumethin' something to share with you. I never actually shared a letter with the person in question and I have never communicated in any other way, other than a previous small Rp like this one (which failed I'm assuming). This time I try again and open up with a simply Rp that leaves a lot of options open to the prospective and also invited 'other player'. Hope you like it, its a different way of saying ''hi'' than writing the bog standard letter.
They are waiting
A small detail of Swordsmen stood at the Gates of the Silver City. They wore partial plate armor that was polished to a sheen. The fine metal covered or intermixed with bits of neatly worked fabric of a deep oaken hue and embroidered with golden thread, the image that of the Lord of Giask. They looked like professionals finally afforded the finery their skill deserved.
Upon spotting the outlandish Noble from the northern realm of Swordfell did they flowed into action. Stepping forwards with confident strides intent on intercepting the Lady and her guard of cavalrymen. One of the swordsmen hailed her. ''Well met and bid you stop! The Lord of Giask wishes to speak with you!'' If they were in time to reach her or indeed she would evade them was very much still a guess.
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Hey there! Today a small-ish battle RP. There are two large armies arrayed against one another but only bits fight it seems. Enjoy!
Through Falling Snow
The wind blew strong and brought with it the white promise of the clouds. Like majestic dancers did the currents create dazzling shapes in the sky that ever transformed and made a guessing game of the task of sentries. The men on duty where wrapped in cloaks and wore scarfs and even gloves. Not because winter was so harsh but because they were not used to the cold. Grumble they did still though.
A staggered deployment saw the Lurian forces spread over several lines, one in front of the other. The rear most line on top the crest of a hill and the front most at its base. Archers and Cavalry waited with the best vision and the infantry, the sword and board at the bottom endured the not knowing. Shapes started to materialize from the west, north a little bit but definitively from the general area of Thar Gortauth. Black figures carrying banners of which none could read the heraldic yet. A light sprinkling of snow rested on the plain between the two forces.
Calls rose from the Lurian ranks and informed the infantry below. Spears were lowered, helmets fastened and more than a few took swigs from canteens not filled with water but rather stronger stuff. Marc handed Aldrakar a steaming skewer of roasted meat. He took it and began to eat it as he peered through the snow falling from the heavens. All around him stood his Armored Skirmishers. The greatest unit on the Lurian side and it bothered him that he was suggested to stand in the rear most rank. Marc was already busy preparing some heated wine as he addressed Aldrakar. ''M'Lord, don't worry so much. I've seen what it did to my Da' and he didn't live past 35 summers.'' The casual levity in the young page's voice made Aldrakar smile ruefully. ''If this war knows no end I'll be lucky to make it past 30 Marc. One of these days I'm wound to get an arrow to the throat.''
The men nearby shuffled uncomfortably as they exchanged glances. It was no secret they prided themselves on keeping their Lord safe. A solidly build sergeant with a deeply lined face guffawed. ''You won't die anytime soon Lord. Me and the boys have kept you alive this long and we don't intend to fail you now!'' The men grinned and Aldrakar nodded in appreciation. ''Thank you, but you won't fight all my battle for me. I'm not that old yet!'' He flashed one of his bright and full smiles and the men made approving sounds.
In as much time as it takes to retell that did the Combined Host of the League become visible. Fissoan Banners stood out the most. Their sapphire blues and sea foam white unmistakable. Intermingled with those were some D'haran banners. A frown creased Aldrakar's forehead. ''D'harans.. the League is committing to this battle?'' None felt like answering their Lord.
The Lurian Host stood their ground as was their intend and the League approached in one big line with a small reserve behind them. A single unit of black horsed cavalry behind them again. The majestic dancers that was the wind now suddenly turned into a vengeful hag as she tugged at every cloak and attempted to rip ever banner from hands or ground. Aldrakar's golden hair blew from his cape and whipped around freely, his oaken cape much the same. A statue on the hill that was very much alive.
War cries erupted from both lines as the last bit of land was crossed charging. Snowflakes and arrows. Both descended on the clashing hosts from both sides. Aldrakar found Prince of Arms Soren's Banner and absentmindedly pointed at it. Almost instantly did his men respond and a flight of arrows rained down on his friend's men. Anger spiked for a brief moment in Aldrakar as he glanced back at his men but he held his tongue. This was war.
The lines met and swords shattered on shields and spears plunged into bellies. Screams erupted and turned from brave and fierce to desperate and pleading. Men died and the snow turned crimson. very soon it became clear that the Lurian Rock would hold firm and the wave of the League broke upon it. Aldrakar knew a moment of confusion as he realized only about a third of the reported League forces were committed to the battle. It became a slaughter. Nearing the end did the Lurian cavalry storm downhill. Like an avalanche did they fall onto the soldiers of the League and trampled them into the ground.
It wasn't quite as one sided as this though as a deal of Lurian Nobles were wounded and more than a few believed in easy victory and acted rashly. Their recklessness earning them wounds and costing the lowborn lives. The battle was over quickly and only the First line of Lurians was engaged in true melee. More banners could be seen however. Just beyond the treeline as it were. Reinforces from the League were preparing to aid their more zealous compatriots. Another battle would come and this would could be more balanced but then again, war and battle are fickle masters of fate.
Aldrakar retired to his tent and began writing letters to his friends in the enemy camp.
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Hello! Welcome, pull up a chair and make yourself comfortable. Care for some tea? No? that's a shame, you gonna get some anyone. If only to warm you hands hmm? Here I've got an after battle Rp report thing. Not quite a battle Rp but it has bits of it. Much more of a, after the battle report. Aveston, Barcan Capital, first battle. D'harans, Astrumese and Barcan's of course, against Lurians. Luria won the battle. Here is Aldrakar as he wanders the streets of Aveston, his former Lordship in Sun Hall.
A Return to Aveston
A dog was barking. The pitiful creature's shrill sound incessant and it defied his last remaining bit of self control. His eye wandered over to where the mutt was tugging at a leather strap protruding from a ruined splint mail cuirass. It belonged to a dead Barcan warrior. His body broken and lodged in his chest were 2 heavy arrows probably fired from a war-bow. Aldrakar felt a tinge of regret bubble up from somewhere deep down inside him and only with a great effort of willpower managed to suppress it once more.
His steel sabbatons splashed down into the mud every step of the way. Grime reached all the way up to his armored thighs and memories of intense fighting flashed through his mind as he made his way through the gatehouse of Aveston.
A memory:
''Fire! Damn it! Shoot at anything that moves! Shoot!'' The captain of his soldiers was in a frenzy howling orders over the ranks of his men. Left and right of his of his formation there were other Lurian Nobles and their men. Archers and Elites, exchanging missile fire with the League's forces still in Aveston. It had been a very long time since dawn and the beginning of the battle. Whistling in the air and burying all around him were arrows and slingshot bullets. He heard a gurgling sound to his left and as he glanced he took in the scene of one of his soldiers grasping a fat arrow shaft that had lodged in his throat. He turned his gaze back to the town and loosed an arrow of his own.
''M'Lord? what are your orders?'' Aldrakar snapped back into the present. He recognized the voice of his captain but not the gore covered man in front of him. ''Lord Marshal Edwyle has initiated a Take Over of the Town, instruct the men to assist and spread the word to the other Nobles. These are our people, show sympathy.'' The words flowed from him without much thought and his eyes had already started to wander. ''Yes M'lord, as you say!'' The captain saluted but Aldrakar didn't pay attention anymore.
He looked at the remains of a smoldering building near the gatehouse, once a Stable he guessed. He put a hand to the blackened beams that outlined its main entrance.
A memory:
Thunder rose from the land as the hooves of the Lurian Cavalry charged over the field towards the town. What were they doing!? Aldrakar thought to himself. His hair was unmarked by grime although sweat had already claimed a place. It flicked through his field of vision like a bright golden curtain and as it lifted, one moment the Cavalry was full of pride and gusto and the next. Horses have a terrible scream. Leaning far out over the wooden battlements did the defenders shoot down into the exposed necks and rumps of the horses. Riders were thrown and their bodies broken as the massive bodies of the dying horses crashed into them. Even from this distance Aldrakar could hear the excited whoops mingle with the death-screams.
He lifted his hand from the scorched doorpost and time continued around him again. The street before him was riddled with arrows. It was a mud road but perhaps there were beams below the mud. He couldn't tell at the moment. The gatehouse he entered the town through was a scene from a horror story. Mangled bodies hung from all sides and blood had run freely from and over every part of it. Several mangy dogs were worrying on the fingers and faces of dead soldiers. Aldrakar tried to feel anger but was simply to tired.
A group of Lurian soldiers marched past him at that moment. In poor order and they were dirty but he didn't pay them much mind. He continued on his route. He wanted to see his old manor, if it still existed. He made his way through the outside ring of houses closest to the gatehouse and eventually entered the commons. Most of the houses were untouched by the battle save for the copious amounts of barricades. They had expected to fight for every street Aldrakar realized. Many of the inhabitants were cheering. Well, cheering is a big word. They did not mind the Lurians, they were Lurians after all. They also showed sadness however Aldrakar noted. They had come to grow fond of the Barcan Nobles. They offered refreshments, as they were available, to both Lurian and Barcan soldiers. The wounded of course.
Aldrakar thanked a comely woman of some 25 summers for a drink of water she offered from a wooden bucket. She looked at him with big, hazel brown eyes. Her hair kept down by a length of cloth that covered her head and was tied under her chin. Aldrakar drank deeply from the proffered, wooden spoon. His armor made sound. It had improved a great deal since his early days. Still practical but high quality steel where before it was bronze and it was engraved or adorned now. Not in the way where it was impractical for combat but still refined. Standing next to her at a well he took his time to carefully remove his dark steel gauntlets and hung them from his belt.
The woman looked afraid now and he made a few calming sounds like one would do to a skittish horse. He ran his hands through his filthy hair and pushed some of the muck and blood and whatever else was in there out. He motioned to the water and she poured it over his hands as he cleaned them. His ocean blue eyes caught hers and he nodded, she averted. Looking around at the town he produced a single gold piece from his belt and put it on the brick of the well and left her there.
He walked down towards the center of the Town and recognized the old buildings. Vesperi in style, the old Lurian style native to Sun Hall. He had to smirk at a Barcan statue placed at one of the administrative buildings. Perhaps a sign of their time in power. He resolved to have it brought to Giask and preserved. Wishful thinking probably, it might very well be smashed by drunk soldiers the coming eve.
Vertigo washed over him and he had to steady himself leaning against a stack of crates outside of a smithy. Inside there were pig-iron blades of horrible quality. They certainly tried to prepare themselves Aldrakar thought. He pushed himself away from the stack of crates and continued on his way. A duo of children rushed past him. One had something red in his hands. ''Stop! You bleeding mongrels!'' A voice called. In moments a burly man appeared. His face red, patchy beard and a bald forehead but still sporting a short pony tail.
The man came to a dead-halt upon seeing Aldrakar in full Battle Gear, including the gore. His mind worked and came to the conclusion the red could only have been an apple or tomato. ''Leave them be.'' He said to the red faced man. ''They've just lived through an assault and you can spare the food.'' The man blanched. ''Yes M'lord Aldrakar. Of course.'' He bowed deeply. Aldrakar frowned, do I know this man? ''For your trouble.'' He handed the man two pieces of silver and left him standing where he was.
The former Rendorian Estate lay before him. He was now in the Noble district of Aveston. A small community inside the town really, especially compared to the City of Giask he was now used to. He saw the area he had intended to become a botanical garden had been turned into a mustering field. Mud, stubborn grass and a collection of command tents. He smiled ruefully but that was all he could do before they attacked him.
From one of the nearby tents 3 men in studded leather armor burst through the flaps. 2 of them had swords and the third had a mace. ''There's a pretty Lordling we can sell!'' One of them called, he had an ugly nose and Aldrakar dubbed him Ugly. Ugly was the one with the Mace. The trio was upon him in moments.
By instinct entirely did his hand find its way to the handle of his sword and then it sang from its scabbard and gleamed in the mid day sun. A worked length of fine steel, silvered and engraved with beautiful craftsmanship. The first of the three assailants opened his attack with an overhead chop, a measured action really. Executed well enough but far from dangerous to Aldrakar. He moved with grace and without conscious thought. The armor allowing him much more freedom of movement that it would suggest at first glance. The chop missed and in the whirl of the dodge Aldrakar's blade severed the man's arm at the elbow in an upward motion. It cut cleanly through the join and a jet of crimson blood shot out.
The second attacker was more careful. He jabbed twice and made a feint through his footwork. Aldrakar was tired but battle is its own elixir. His mind told him that he was heavily armored and they were not. A man can take risks when he's wearing armor. He dashed forwards before Ugly could mingle into their fight. He slashed wide and returned the slash again, then stabbed and his opponent parried and gave ground. A skillful swordsman.
Aldrakar was sure to keep one hand ready to block blows to his head as if his vambrace was a makeshift mini buckler, which it could be. Ugly had caught up and was attempting to flank him. His foul breath a perfect match with his yellow teeth. A purebred trench soldier, Aldrakar thought. The other swordsman feinted twice more and tried to bait Aldrakar. He was dancing too much and Aldrakar decided to call him Dancer.
Judging Ugly to be a man that values his own life way too much Aldrakar continued to press Dancer. Stab, jab, high slash and return to guard. Dancer was well versed in the combo used against him and parried beautifully. As expected Ugly kept his distance but not so much that Aldrakar could dismiss him, forcing him to check on him and losing precious time and focus.
Dancer noticed as well and as Aldrakar checked on Ugly he made his move. He pressed into Aldrakar's reach and struck towards his elbow, a joint. The joints are where the armor overlaps and where blows are more keenly felt. Aldrakar growled in pain and felt his fingers grow numb for a heartbeat as pain lanced through him limb. Dancer grinned fiercely and readied his follow up attack, a stab. A double gripped stab, one of the few attacks able to penetrate armor.
Ugly had smelled his opportunity as well and had raised his mace to deliver an overhead blow. Aldrakar sensed Ugly being the more eager of the two and turned into the man's attack, using his free hand to grab Ugly's wrist and twisted it. Turning the man forward and between Aldrakar and Dancer. Ugly yelped and then Aldrakar rammed his sword horizontally somewhere at head-height, at Dancer and felt hard leather giving way under the force of his attack. Dancer sighed out air and Aldrakar felt a weight pull down his sword and aimed it downwards as Dancer slid to the ground. Leaving a gaping neck wound gushing blood.
Ugly went down too but he was whimpering now. His sausage like fingers clutching his buddy's sword that protruded from his belly. A red stain blossoming across it. Aldrakar stood over him and watched him. ''Please sirrah, I didn't mean to. They forced me, truly! Please! No!'' Ugly begged but Aldrakar raised his sword, point down and plunged it into his neck and body. Ending Ugly's life and misery. The usual end for men fighting born Knights. The same fate awaited the man with 1 arm.
He wiped the blade on Ugly's corpse and left the trio of fresh dead as they started to emanate the smells of death, particularly piss. He stood before the Rendorian estate and beheld it. It looked different with Barcan decorations but the same somehow. He wondered if Jocelin had lived here. Hoped she was still alive, he hadn't seen her banner.
Lurian Soldiers, his own actually, trickled into the Noble district and soon surrounded their Lord. He however preferred some distance and sat on the steps of his old estate and pondered life.
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Aaaand here is the Order to Assist the Sympathy Take Over as Aldrakar gave it. In Rp form to the Lurian Nobles in Aveston.
The Order for Take Over
Presiding over the devestation, the ruin of a battle that lasted hours, stood Aldrakar. Blood freely splattered all over his gear and himself a canvas of untold horror. His ear detected the crunching sound of gravel under boot. He willed his tired body to turn and face the approaching sound. It was his captain. Only recognizable because the man spoke. ''M'lord? what are your orders?'' Bits of coagulated blood flaked off him as he moved. Aldrakar released the grip on his sword and let its weight be borne once more by the scabbard that hung from his belt.
''Lord Marshal Edwyle's men have already started a Take Over of the town, support it. Captain!.. these are our people, show them some sympathy. Spread the word, make sure they understand this is an order, not a request.''
His hand reached up and pointed at the scattered Lurian banners and Noble standards. ''Yes M'lord, at once!'' The captain saluted and departed again. Aldrakar however cared little, he was bone tired and allowed himself to sink onto a crate that would serve as a makeshift chair for now. Marc, his teenage page brought him some water that he gratefully accepted.
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Hey there! I got a special treat today! It's not anything I wrote but something I feel must be shared. It was send to me privately but its far too good to be wasted on just me.
Written by the Player of Jocelin La Drake (Dwilight, Barca - D'hara, former Suffete of Barca and widow of the prior Suffete)
The shade of a Husband (Improvised name by me)
Jocelin stood at the window of her private chambers, looking out over the port city below. Despite the late hour she could still see people in the streets; her eyes followed these small specks in silence, wondering if they knew they were being observed. It was in that moment that she felt it herself, and she turned to the source.
A dark shadow stood beside the bed, blacker than the night surrounding it. At the sight of it Jocelin clamped her hands over her mouth, stifling a scream that had not escaped her since fleeing Barca. The rest of her was paralyzed, shaking so hard it was a miracle she didn't fall over. Her heart thudded like a panicked bird in her ribcage and drowned out all sound. She thought of the letters from Aldrakar and the Emperor that day, inquiring into the very thing that stood before her. For there was no mistaking it from Erasmus: even without features it was his sharp-eyed gaze she felt, piercing her to the core. The man known as the Black Judge had never made her feel as cold as she did now, but then, she had never been on the receiving end of his anger.
The shade didn't move. Jocelin didn't either, and the night dragged on by seconds as they stared at one another. Her panic faded in tiny increments, leaving her scared and angry. This was the first time it had remained for more than a glimpse, and she hated it more for that than for anything. She finally worked up the courage to speak. "What do you want?"
Silence. That otherworldly gaze continued to stare, accusing her of some crime. And like so many others who had fallen beneath it in life she began to ramble, defending herself for something that was not her fault. "I wasn't the one who dueled the hunchback! How could I have known he would kill you?" She had supported him, naïvely believing there was no way he could lose. But Lord Chuldah had been grief-stricken by the loss of his wife --of her half-sister, the red-headed temptress who had borne a horde of children for him-- and could not have been more dangerous. Or was Erasmus angry that she had not told him she was pregnant that day? She placed a protective hand over her stomach, shielding a child already born. "If I had told you... it would only have distracted you. It was a matter of honor: there's no way the Suffete could have bowed out of a duel."
The shade remained. Jocelin felt herself growing angrier at it. "You've got no right to be angry with me! You abandoned us when we needed you most!"
"Do you honestly think I was strong enough to carry on after you died?" Widowed, pregnant, depressed from the loss of so many friends and family... at a time when she was supposed to be setting the example it was all she could do to find the will to live. Instead, Lord Kori had become Suffete, and had threatened to tear her child from her body if she tried to leave. Erasmus had been trying to revive an Empire from the West, and Kori had become obsessed with ensuring his progeny succeeded him. Had he not eventually killed himself... but then Lady Jonsu had come to Barca, and before she could seek refuge in another realm Jocelin had risen to defend Barca from yet another monster. A poor choice, but the only choice: the only person who had stepped forward to challenge Jonsu.
"I could not have saved Barca." Surely he remembered the silence of the Senate, or how difficult it was to see referendums through when no one was voting? She had tried to keep the Republic alive and had failed, coming here to D'Hara instead. And could she really be blamed for abandoning Barca when she did, when the whole of her life had been stolen from her by inches?
The shade remained, accusing her of some crime of which she had no knowledge. What else was there, if not that she had failed? A creeping suspicion invaded her thoughts, dragging cold dread in its wake. Was he angry that she still lived? Her knees buckled; her vision dimmed, and as she sank to the floor she saw the shade move closer. A strangled cry rose from her, a low moan of terror that was all she could manage. The shadow loomed and reached for her...
She shrieked, a sound like someone being murdered. The door was flung open, and a pair of guards entered with their hands on their swords. They scanned the room, perhaps expecting to find an assassin or similar threat, but all they found was a panicked noblewoman huddled by the window in her nightgown. One of the guards looked annoyed and left to fetch a maid; the other looked uncomfortable, averting his eyes from her mad stare. The maid that came was the younger one from the nursery, the one that was often with Ljúfa. And all at once she wanted nothing to do with any of them: she wanted her girl, to see for herself that the child was safe from the haunt of her father.
The maid led her back to bed, clucking like an old hen over her. "Cold as ice! You mustn't sit at the window, M'lady, not at this hour. Into bed now: there's a girl... would m'lady like a candle by the bedside?" Jocelin was so drained that it didn't occur to her she was being spoken to like a child. She merely nodded, burying herself under the thick blankets to ward off her bone-deep chill. The maid lit a candle and threw another blanket on for good measure. And though the guards had left she remained, curling up at the foot of the bed should Jocelin need her. The maid fell back into the sleep from which she'd been awoken... but Jocelin remained awake, aching with loneliness and fear as she waited to fall back to sleep herself.
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I couldn't, not respond to that last Rp! If you skipped all the way to the bottom check out the previous post! Hurreh! Faster! Naow!
Anyways, if you were a proper reader of Rp's you didn't skip it and here is a little reward. I was inspired to write a bit of a mirror Image. Put the situations of the two people next to one another. Not a battle rp or anything like that. Just a day out of the Life of Aldrakar. Enjoy!
Summer's Glory
The day was warming already. Falling from the pristine sky overhead rays of gold shone down on a labyrinth of people and civilization. Chatter from the market stands competed with the hammer-falls from the foundries and yet again with the roaring laughter escaping the waterfront establishments, crude and resplendent.
In one of the dozens of City arming courts and fields a company of 50 head strong was being inaugurated into the Giaskian Garrison. Fine leather bands secured lamellar engraved with the creed of this particular company. Propositum est verum - Our Aim is true. A captain stood in front of the neat rows of bowmen. His chest out and his face radiant as he fired with pride. An aged man in ceremonial armor and a bellowing cape addressed them in an authoritative tone that struck home, word for word.
Wheeling away from that view and towards the colossal city walls, countless donkey and ox carts were making their rounds between the brick-maker encampments, kilns and the mason crews working on the walls. Sections were being being touched up on again, whitewashed in lime plaster and sun baked for good measure. Both the plaster and the workmen who could sleep on a bed of deep brown apricots and never be distinguished from them.
Life was going to be good this Summer. The restorative works of the past winter and spring were paying dividends. The streets of the Great City were clean, the boulevards in bloom and the fragrance of flowers, nectar, herbs and soaps spread itself freely throughout the maze of streets. Seems it paid off to fund the soap makers guild as one of his advisers had suggested. Shipowners need it, cities need it and it produces a nice smell as well! Aldrakar grinned to himself rather than anyone else but those around him didn't know that. They grinned back at him and Asher joined them.
Aldrakar rode a fine pearl coated gelding with Asher on a sable coated saddle-horse. Perhaps a modest creature by comparison but it sensed Asher's intention flawlessly. It's what made watching them ride such a pleasure. Surrounding them was Marc, the ever faithful page. He had grown into a strapping lad and had been awarded the title of Squire after the Sun Hall campaign had come to a close. Proudly did Marc ride on a mahogany courser wearing his new coat of plates styled in the new Giaskian fashion.
Watching Marc, Aldrakar admitted to himself that he had been a little too generous perhaps. Ahhh Damn it all, he served well and behaved like a Knight, let him have a taste while it lasts. A smile crept onto his face as the thought formed and his gaze moved to the next member of their little riding party. His eyes found Jorg, a wiry build man that never seemed to gain much weight. A hawk beaked nose and calm eyes that often smiled set in a face lined with years of combat. Around the four of them they only had half a dozen guards, really just handpicked militia men on horses.
The mounted militia men were fiercely proud to accompany their Lord and to Aldrakar it was a show that he Ruled fairly and trusted his people. Their little journey had taken them from the east Gate all the way down to the west Gate. Following the Sun and inspecting the City walls. Talking with foremen, overseers, master builders, patrol captains and the odd merchants here and there. Asher was more interesting in speeding on the open plains but wasn't so disinterested that he refused the wondrous trinkets offered by the merchants. It really changed, as it usually did, when Asher noticed his father being ''stolen'' away by the other people. ''All trying to talk to Da' and Da' not having time for me.'' as Asher liked to put it. He would often insert himself in private or semi private conversations people were having with his father and ask to be picked up which he often was. Being carried on his Da's strong right arm and able to see just as far as grown up people.
The day went as it came and the sun sank into the horizon. Aldrakar felt the muscles in his thighs protest after so much riding but it didn't dampen his spirits. The city was doing well, his son was doing well and the people were doing well. Yet, as his eye caught the first glimpses of the moon as it revealed itself from behind a pack of clouds he thought of Jocelin.
The thought couldn't have lasted long. ''Da?..'' a weary little voice interrupted him. ''Can I sit with you on your horse? I don't want to ride anymore and Nibbles is tired. He doesn't want to walk anymore.'' Aldrakar manouvered his horse along side Nibbles, the Sable Saddle Horse and in a fluid motion collected his son into his arms and placed Asher in front of him on the saddle. The little bundle of a boy nestled against his father's chest and he in turn cradled the boy in his arms as he held on to the reins and rode for home.
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Back again! I knows, It is such a very short time since! Isn't that great? I know its great. You know its Great. It means more Great Reading. For Great Glory! Reading Commence!
Roleplay from Jericho Barrons
In the great hall of Giask, Jericho waited as Margrave Aldrakar and his son rode home. He had his oath prepared and had reviewed the estate available in the metropolitan city. A shuffling and hushed voices brough his attention back, and he saw a councilor beckoning the Margrave towards him. Eager to have this done, Jericho quickly kneeled with his hands folded at his heart and waited for the formidable man to gesture to continue. Jericho could feel the man's intense gaze burning the top of his head, his brown wavy hair ruffled in waves in front of his face as he bowed.
Jericho began with a strong voice to project his oath of fealty in the great hall, his voice ringing melodically off statues and pillars as he aimed his words at the powerful Lord before him,
"I promise on my faith and honour to Luria Nova and my heart, to never forget the graciousness of my Lord Margrave Aldrakar Renodin for the wealth he provides, to wrest glory from any foe we may face, to never flee one step from battle and to avenge my Lord’s death or die trying. I shall also observe my homage to the people of Giask and Luria Nova respectively and promise my aim be true and fierce to all who threaten or decieve. I promise all of this on the honour of my family, the Barrons name and the Empire of Luria Nova."
At the end of his little speech, silence hung heavy and Jericho could feel his heart beating in his throat, as he waited to see how the man would react. Were his words strong enough to win this Lord's faith? He had been a loyal warrior to Asylon and had paid for it in homelessness, then he had found acceptance here and so desperately wanted to call it home. He felt as if his life hung on the dust glinting in the moonlight of this grande room and the Margrave had but to whisper a no and Jericho would be blown away in a million pieces to be scattered homeless once again over the countryside.
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And here for the official Rp response. Hope you liked it. I did while I wrote it and will for a while I reckon. Cheers!
Home, Hearth and Fealty
The sun had dipped into the far away horizon and only its last, most enduring rays still stretched out over the vast expanse that was the world. It was a world made up of the most mesmerizing shades of gold, amber, ocher and decorated with shadows applied with the long brushstrokes of a master painter. The City gates were permitting the last of the peoples into or out of the Great City of Giask. Aldrakar was not among them.
The Riding horses had been permitted their rest in the stables and man a hand was offering them leisure. Be it grain, brushing their coats or picking clean their hooves. They were tended to with love and Aldrakar was content to follow his son Asher up the steps into the Great Hall, his clothing stained with things one can expect after a day riding through the countryside. His boots were lightly caked with mud, his extremely fine cream blouse was untied at the neck and liberally smelled of sweat. The Lurian Sun had baked on his golden head for the entirety of the day and it smelled like it. Not only that of course, the smell of Horse and Leather were there as well, making their presence known. The rest of his garb was Leather and belts and very few jewels. Who needs jewels going out riding.
He made his way up the steps and in a near constant stream attendants offered him reports, reminders, a warm but wet cloth to watch dab his face with and a slew of other things. He dealt with them in turn and efficiently, waving some away to return later. One particular attendant arrested him. His Chamberlain, the man in charge of his Household had an urgent message for him. ''The unsworn Knight Jericho awaits your presence Master Aldrakar.'' A perfectly timed gesture towards the grand entry of the Great Hall compelled Aldrakar to follow the subtle instruction and left the other servants for what they were. Before passing through the arch that constituted the doorway he pushed his hands through his golden locks and smoothed them back but they only obeyed for a moment before falling wherever they damn well pleased.
The Great Hall was everything the word could ever cover. It was the most grand of all the Grand halls of the Golden Palace of Giask. The Seat of Former Kings, Dukes, many a Duchess and Emperors in name or title. Everything in this Hall was made of the most pristine of materials. Only the very best and not a single expense too much. It was already this way before Aldrakar took the seat of the Great City. His boots echoed like giant's steps towards the kneeling figure of a man. A man in armor and allowed to keep his arms it seemed. Aldrakar glanced to the row of guards that stood spaced along the walls. A crowd had gathered for the occasion. Many wealthy City Nobles were present, their scions, their daughters. Local, lesser Knights and a host of merchant house representatives or family heads. Even some of the ecclesiastical persuasion, but not too many of them. It was well known Aldrakar did not fancy dogma.
The Hall remained silent as Aldrakar approached the Kneeling Knight. The last of the Knights to Swear fealty onto him and fill the last of the Estates of Giask. A deliberately slow pace brought Aldrakar face to face with the brown haired man. Their were of an age, Aldrakar and Jericho. Both Handsome and Both men of War. It showed, their builds showed it. ''Da!'' Asher's voice rang clearly through the hall. Aldrakar's youngest son of some 4 summers dashed towards his father.
Aldrakar didn't turn his gaze away from Jericho but held up his hand to Asher who promptly stopped and curiously peered at the Kneeling Knight and his father.
Jericho began with a strong voice to project his oath of fealty in the great hall, his voice ringing melodically off statues and pillars as he aimed his words at the powerful Lord before him.
"I promise on my faith and honour to Luria Nova and my heart, to never forget the graciousness of my Lord Margrave Aldrakar Renodin for the wealth he provides, to wrest glory from any foe we may face, to never flee one step from battle and to avenge my Lord’s death or die trying. I shall also observe my homage to the people of Giask and Luria Nova respectively and promise my aim be true and fierce to all who threaten or decieve. I promise all of this on the honour of my family, the Barrons name and the Empire of Luria Nova."
As the words trailed away and their echo faded Aldrakar's face held a small smile. Like the twinkle of a bright star veiled poorly by the clouds. All eyes where on the two and the much anticipated response from the Lord of Giask and the Lord spoke.
''Sir Jericho, Knight of Giask.'' A measured pause followed. ''And to your Oath I shall hold you. Until such a time that I release you from it or death does claim you. In turn I will provide you with an upkeep suitable to your service rendered onto me. Providing enough so that you may command a company of good and loyal men in my name and do battle for the pleasure of the Realm and our Sovereign master, The Emperor.'' Aldrakar raised his chin and his face hardened with patriotic pride
''I swear to do right by you as long as your Oath is strong and shelter you in my homes, provide you cloth to garb your body in and see to the nourishment that grands you life. Justice shall be mine to give and my hand to shield you from the evil of others. This is my sacred vow onto you as Liege and I accept your Oath. The estate known as "The Noble district' is now yours by bond and oath, use it wisely.'' Aldrakar took his time to swallow and take in a lungful of air, mingled with incense.
''Sir Jericho, you do me proud and make swell my heart with hope as the future just turned to a stark Gold against the black night sky.''
Cheers filled the room as the voices of the local Nobility and all that could afford to be in their presence roared their approval like country simpletons. Sometimes, we're not all that different. We all know joy and it is always the same. Aldrakar laughed his rich and hearty laugh, placing a hand on Jericho's shoulder as he urged him to stand up. ''Don't make me kick that soft butt of yours now!'' The joke not as private as intended perhaps but those around only grinned and laughed.
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Hey there! Ending bit (I think) of the Oath Swearing Rp. Enjoy!
Roleplay from Jericho Barrons
Kneeling, head down and with drawn breath Jericho waited until he heard the Margrave speak and pledge his own oath. It was then Jericho let out his breath in a long quiet sigh, and his shoulders visibly relaxed. Knowing he had spoke a satisfying oath and was now a Knight once more. With Aldrakar's hand on his shoulder, he was about to rise when he heard him joke about his bottom again. He heard chuckles about and so with his best flourish he stood up gracefully and bit his tongue when he almost replied that the ladies like the bottom soft and the front hard. But, remembering his place in this Great Hall and the seriousness of the oath's just spoken, instead he smiled at his Lord and allowed his happiness to beam for all to see.
"I thank you my Lord Aldrakar. You have been most gracious to tend to me so quickly and with me interrupting a day with your son. Now, If I may, I would like to move into my district immediately as I have been on the road for too long. The Imperial Battlemasters are gathering once again and I need to catch up. Marshal Edwyle was very understanding and excited for my opportunity here, but I am anxious to have a quick respite and get back to duty. If there are any that would like to see me to my district, I will reward them heartily with wine and dance!"
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Hey there! A huge story coming, by Battlemaster standards as I've experienced it at least. HUuuuuuuuge amounts of thanks and credits go to the Player of Jocelin Le Drake! Enjoy!
Auspicious and Unexpected - Aldrakar
The sun was strong today, its rays baking the roof tiles and the air danced upward in spirals distorting the world beheld through it. One of the younger officials in Aldrakar's employ, a scribe originally but his exceptional wit saw him raised beyond his peers swiftly and early on. He now ventured into the space of the Lord of Giask.
His feet sheltered in fine, soft leather shoes as they moved with a dancer's grace through the richly decorated room. All still lingering effects of the former Lords of the Great City. Like a trained assassin did he arrived near silently at Aldrakar's perch overlooking the Palatial gardens. A lush jungle of exotic plants and animals, some parts wild and some very well organized. He made a very elaborate bow that none witnessed but the eternal spirits and the sun above. ''My Lord Aldrakar, I have important news for you.'' He proffered a parchment lettered with expensive ink.
Aldrakar stretched his arms and rolled the muscles in his neck and shoulders. The chair can nearly become a bed with the sun lulling him to sleep, but not just yet. He pushed himself up and out of its embrace and faced the young man and accepted the parchment. ''Thank you Jalen.'' His eyes lazily roamed the report until his mind formed the meaning in a coherent context. Jocelin was in the Giaskian Dungeon.
''Who else knows?'' His eyes burned into Jalen. ''None sire, except the dungeon master and his staff. They are sworn to secrecy though.'' Aldrakar noted how the young man didn't mention himself. A small smile crept over his face and it quickly grew as his thoughts turned back to Jocelin. ''Clear my schedule, I won't be available tomorrow the entire day. Make suitable excuses.'' Jalen simply bowed with confidence.
Holding the parchment firmly in hand Aldrakar fled from the warm rays bathing the balcony and went straight to the dungeons to meet finally, face to face, a very special woman. On his way there his mind worked a dozen and more issues and questions, what to ask first and of course to see her removed from the prison and into his home. House arrest, not dungeon's at the very, very least.
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-Jocelin
Far from growing more cautious as she grew older, the young noblewoman had become increasingly more reckless since the fall of Barca. Her journey had been no accident or political statement: it was arrogance that had seen her sailing into the heart of Luria Nova. Her goal had not been to invade or to spy, but to rise in the ranks of the Bloodmoon faith as a priestess of their Cult. Everyone knew that the Temple in Giask was chief among places of worship in their faith, and if she was to set aside years of dedicated study as a courtier for the cloth she than she wasn't going to settle for anything less than the heart of their faith. It wasn't her fault that it stood in Luria Nova: she'd never asked for this war, and had since washed her hands of it.
Unfortunate, then, that her citizenship had caused her to be arrested.
She stood in the center of her cell in complete silence, looking as composed as if she were waiting to present herself to the Emperor. A fresh bruise marred an otherwise unblemished cheek, courtesy of a soldier's helmet when one of the Lurian militia knocked him into her. Her golden stare was almost feline in the semi-dark as she watched the guardsmen pace outside her cell: the first few times they'd looked in on her, but her stare had unnerved them so much that they now kept their eyes down when they passed. It didn't help that Jocelin was about half a head taller than most every man she met, or that --slender as she was-- she seemed to fill the space, somehow commanding attention when all she really wanted was to be left alone.
Her stubborn refusal to move lasted only until something new happened. Far away the cell block door creaked open, and the sound of multiple footsteps approaching reached her. Jocelin straightened the net of pearls that held her wheaten hair back and squared her shoulders. Her chin lifted in an arrogant tilt, and she prepared herself for an argument... for if the man she thought would come was indeed approaching she expected nothing besides honeyed words and unfounded accusations.
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Down into the Dungeon - Aldrakar
Quickly Aldrakar made his way through the chambers and levels of the Golden Palace. Sometimes this place is just too damn large! A frown marked his face and made several servants caution their step and clear the path of their Lord. The warmth the summer day struggled to penetrate this deeply into the huge structure and the spacious corridors and chambers were cool or mild compared to the temperature outside.
Dressed in a cream white blouse of very fine linen that definitively didn't equate with the simplicity of the design. Along with breeches the color of dark sand and bound along the waist with an expertly tooled leather belt set with a buckle adorned with a singular white rose engravement of sorts. His hands were clean but rough in the way that swordsmen always endure, despite oils and other balms. The only real piece of jewelry worn was a single ring on his ring hand. It bore the seal of his House and was rather spartan save for the material used, Gold.
Cresting the last bend Aldrakar descended into the Palace Dungeons where all Noble prisoners were taken in Luria Nova. The compound of the Golden Palace vast in itself and nothing lacked in scale or facilities, so also the dungeons. Guards in fine partial plate mail and crossbowmen saluted as he passed them by and his golden hair waved at them where he missed to return their salutes with a nod.
Passing through massive gated corridors and down flights of stairs it felt, as it always did, that he was traveling into the belly of some stone monster. Arriving at a guardroom the Master of the Dungeon awaited him and offered a formal bow. ''Sire, here is the report detailing the capture of Lady Jocelin.'' His gruff voice heavy with seriousness. Aldrakar forcefully moved past him and had no issue to push past the big man who was rightly startled. ''Which cell have you put her Nerick?'' Aldrakar's voice trailed away as he left Nerick the Dungeon Master behind him.
''She's in the left wing Sire!'' Nerick called after his Lord and hurried in an effort to keep up with Aldrakar. ''Master Aldrakar, she hasn't uttered a word and doesn't eat. She doesn't even -Move-!'' Nerick spoke and at the same time organized a small detail of guardsmen to accompany them. ''Don't bother Nerick, I doubt she still has a weapon on her person even though I don't presume myself safe from her wrath in whichever other form though.'' Aldrakar looked back at the big man. ''I'm not that defenseless though am I?'' A smile already present at the corners of his eyes. Nerick stammered a response but ended up chuckling and uttering the word no.
The final section lay just ahead. A large iron door was pushed open by the two guards stationed there and it ground on the hinges and made a creaking sound. Light spilled in from beyond and divided Aldrakar's angular face in two. He strode through the opening and nodded kindly at the two guards he passed. His own entourage of guardsmen he halted with a gesture of his hand and slowly came to a halt as he caught sight of the cell that held Jocelin.
Rays of star and moonlight fell in from the windows placed high in the walls that supported the vaulted ceiling. They were narrow and unreachable without ladders and even then, too thin to allow any human through, even a child. Light however was permitted freely and during day would allow any prisoner to take notice of the rising of the sun and glimpses of the sky.
Aldrakar nodded to Nerick as he indicated the heavy iron door with his eyes. The big man understood and stationed his men around the exit after which he followed his master. Aldrakar's eyes drank in the image before him as he approached the cell which held Jocelin. An impressive woman with hair the color akin to his own but hers had taken on an ethereal quality. Facial features that exuded vitality and strength, eyes that pierced and blazed like the sun, backed with a frame that spelled defiance and a certain fearlessness. If ever she suffered from lack of sleep or ailment it was entirely hidden from his knowledge with help from the dark of night and the flickering of torches.
Without a word spoken he reached a hand and Nerick placed a key into it after which the man backed away. A warm evening breeze fell through the narrow windows and to Aldrakar, it felt pleasant. More so because he unlocked the door to Jocelin's cell. As his hands worked the key and lock, his eyes glanced at the woman before him. Was this Jocelin? He noted pearls mixed in with her hair, they glittered in the starlight.
He pushed the door open and stepped away from it, offering the space to Jocelin with a gesture of his hand. ''Jocelin?'' The word strange on his tongue yet so familiar to his writing hand. ''Come, let's get you out of this place.'' He smiled reassuringly. ''Would you grace me with your presence at dinner? I'm afraid they've made too much and they always expect me to at least taste every dish they make. A titanic task I always fail at. Can I count on your help?'' He gave a wink and awaited her response.
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-Jocelin
Even without a proper introduction, Jocelin knew him for Aldarakar the moment he said her name. She stiffened when he extended his hand, somehow growing more standoffish with hardly any effort. Her long frame swayed as she hesitated coming forward, wanting out of the cell but uncertain whether obedience would put her at an even greater disadvantage. She finally moved, stepping out of the cell with a casualness that continued to border on arrogance. In the torchlight her golden eyes studied him warily, as one who expects a blow to fall would. When she was free of the bars she curtsied, "Of course. Thank you for the invitation."
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From Dungeon to Dinner - Aldrakar
The Wheat haired woman curtsied and spoke her words as she had exited the cell. Turning slowly to face towards the exist Aldrakar walked with Jocelin out of the stone monster of a structure. Quite a walk still and he tried to steal a few glances of her countenance moreso because he wanted to avoid conversation for now and hoped the play would allow the woman opportunity to continue her ardent performance. =Suffete still I see. Wonder how long that will last, hopefully not too long... I'm sure she'll become more human sooner or later.=
The thoughts made him smirk to himself and he tried to hide it by looking at the ground for the moment of weakness. Not that he counted it as weakness, rather didn't want to make her feel any more awkward.
Reaching the exist of the Giaskian Dungeon after passing far too many guards and through dozens of doors and minor gatehouses they were welcomed by a fresh but mild evening breeze. That very same breeze that earlier tried to make its entrance but was hindered by narrow, stone windows. It carried the fragrance of exotic flowers and spices. Insects sang the songs of their peoples as they formed a beautiful, natural symphony together with the songbirds perched in their homes all around the lush palatial gardens. Torches lined the walkways and lanterns could be seen like little floating orbs of light all around.
A plaza stretched out before the dungeon and bordered the palatial garden. On its opposite border rose a wing of the Golden Palace of Giask. A structure immense. A complex even with all the surrounding facilities and exterior walls. A city within a city and all splendor. Servants passed by Jocelin and Aldrakar quietly and they offered smiles and formal greetings. They were carrying scrolls and writing implements. Aldrakar smiled back at them and called one by name, a middle aged man who's name apparently was Fenris.
The couple continued their way into the Palace but were stopped by a small man. Smaller than most women even and he looked feminine himself. ''My Lord.'' He said gravely with a far too high pitched voice, attempting gravity. ''I am very sorry to inform but your son had decreed Dinner to be served outside.'' The little man's eyebrows worked almost as much as his lips as he pronounced each word. ''Is that so Luc?'' Aldrakar replied in his warm timbre and played along. ''I guess we have no choice in that case. To the gardens we go.'' Luc obviously concurred as he led the way.
Aldrakar looked at Jocelin and offered her a small smile. ''So much for being the Lord.'' he shrugged and followed Little Luc.
A central plaza somewhere in the Palatial gardens set against an artificial lake populated with beautiful waterflowers and birds was the stage of the Dinner place. The small plaza, relatively, was filled with a U shape of tables arranged facing the lake. Off to the left there was a small stone structure partially hidden by large, draping cloves of flowers hanging over it. The inside of the building glowed orange and smelled of roast. It was indeed a large barbecue and kitchen area.
The place was well lit with candles, standing torches and lanterns if not oil lamps. The chairs lining the tables were comfortable and spacious and not too heavy looking. For company there were very few people actually. Several servants whom appeared professional and then the guards with crossbows who hid at the light's edge. No other Nobles and no waiting officials or anything, other than Little Luc of course. He at once dashed off to reprimand the servants for arranging the food in the wrong order. His words fast as lightning and he fussed a great deal.
As Luc rushed off, Aldrakar gestured to Jocelin to take a seat. Any seat it seems. Upon closer inspection one might discover the tussle of dark gold hair gently swaying as a small body was seated on a chair on the right side of the U shaped Table arrangement. A boy with his face resting on his crossed arms on the table. At the lake edge, bit to the left of center was another boy. Quite similar to the first albeit this one more energetic. Striking his own reflection with a wooden practice sword. Splashing droplets of water all over himself. A benign but worried attendant nearby, a hazel eyed woman, barely a woman? Perhaps she was Noble born.
Aldrakar remained at the entrance and waited on Jocelin to decide or indeed act. His smile remained and he took note of the Boys at the scene. Off from the garden edge serene music spilled out onto the plaza. Hidden musicians for sure.
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-Jocelin
Her gaze softened as she regarded him in the flickering gloom between the torches, thinking herself unobserved. Jocelin's eyes never left the back of his head, and when she did catch him looking at her she was unashamed to be caught staring. Because of this was unaware of the many doors and gatehouses and guards they passed along the way; such was her distraction as she tried to work out just exactly how she felt towards him. I'm justified in my anger. She insisted, thinking of his letters. Though he always opened with warm words, it was his accusations that remained with her. That --primarily-- was the reason for her hostility now. But to admit as much... she couldn't, not without sounding like a petulant child. Yet her heart still hurt, that the man she had regarded as a friend could think her false.
What a thing, to bear a woman's grudge.
As they drew nearer the exit her thoughts became less hostile. Handsome, She thought grudgingly, comparing the Aldrakar before her to the one she'd preconceived through his letters, And kind, kinder than I thought he'd be. His poetic style struck her as old-fashioned, but it wasn't just that which threw her off. As a beggar resents the richness of discarded scraps for being greater than anything tasted before, so too did she now resent him for his kindness. It was impossible for her to conceive what it must be like to (from her perspective) not go wanting for a gentle word, but to produce them as the sun produced heat and light. It occurred to her that there had to be something he wanted. Nothing was ever given freely.
The warm evening air and the sounds of night drew her attention away from the man in front of her. Flowers and spices reached her nose, carried on a gentle breeze from the sea. The palatial gardens stretched out away from them, and beyond them the Golden Palace towered. She'd only glimpsed it the last time she was in the city; it surprised her to find that it rivaled the palace in Port Raviel. A servant passed, and her demeanor changed so abruptly that the effect was startling; her icy glare melted into a sort of authoritative benevolence, commanding attention without speaking a word. The slight upward curl of her lips spoke volumes in the language of tolerance and patience, while her eyes --watchful of everything-- promised swift correction should anything be caught amiss. Every servant that met that look acknowledged it with respect and wondered only after who the golden stranger alongside their lord had been. It was a queenly countenance so quickly established and thoroughly assimilated that it would have left another's head spinning; for Jocelin the change happened on a subconscious level.
Her head was on a swivel until they were approached by an effeminate servant with a high-pitched voice. At the mention of his son having picked the place for dinner Jocelin smiled; she was thinking of her Ljúfa, and how she might experience something similar in a few years time. She still wore that smile when Aldrakar looked at her, and rather than disappear altogether it merely lessened, remaining like an afterimage of the sun on the back of one's eyelids.
Another abrupt change followed their arrival in the dining grotto, but only after she saw his children in attendance. Before she saw them she drank in their surroundings: the flowers drew her eyes first, for they were either more vibrant and fuller varieties of those that had grown in her garden in Aveston or completely new to her. Next came the servants; she and Erasmus had never required so many in attendance of them, and when he died she'd dismissed all but a few staff to attend her in her duties as Suffete. The servants in Port Raviel were probably as numerous as this, but still: only a few were with her at any given time, for there was still a great fear that she might lapse again into the madness that had driven her to abandon Aveston and flee to D'Hara in the first place.
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-Jocelin
As she searched for the musicians beyond the grotto her eyes kept drifting back to Aldrakar. Used to hosting and holding banal conversations with guest in her capacity as Suffete and wife, she found herself tongue-tied now that she was a... guest. Jocelin had no idea what to say to a man who was both her captor and an old friend who she was meeting for the first time.
The silent lady eventually drifted toward the easiest person in the room to speak to: his son. The tension in her shoulders visibly unknotted, and though Aldrakar was now behind her and couldn't see the genuine smile that replaced her mask her tone spoke volumes. "Would you mind if I sat here?" She played dumb, easing herself into a seat that a servant rushed to pull out for her. Jocelin smoothed her skirt and then sat with her hands in her lap, looking out toward the pond at his brother. Her confusion was almost comical, and she tapped her lips as she looked from one boy to another. "Let me guess... you must be the older brother, am I right?" She raised an eyebrow at him, waiting for the child to take the bait.
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Are you the Older Brother? - Aldrakar
The golden eyed lady with pearls in her sun-kissed hair moved gracefully towards Asher whom raised his head at her approach and smiled as she sat down speaking softly to him. He looked youthful like a toddler striving to be a proper boy. Which was exactly true actually. ''Mind if I sit down here?'' the golden eyed lady asked him. Asher emphatically bobbed his head so that his dark golden locks danced all around his face. ''You can sit.'' He said with a slightly too high pitched voice as he realized he should say something to the nice lady.
His big blue eyes looked at the golden eyed lady curiously. She is pretty he thought. "Let me guess... you must be the older brother, am I right?" Asher smiled a triumphantly big smile.''Nooo, Aldrakar is.'' He pointed at the wet swordsman boy at the lake. Asher blushed bright red in embarrassment. ''I'm the younger brother, my name is Asher.'' He all but whispered his own name.
As this was unfolding Aldrakar walked up to his other son, Aldrakar II and caught his son's practice sword as it was swung backwards. ''Peace son! I think you've beaten the lake by now don't you think?'' A bit of bravado in his tone. ''Da!'' the would be warrior boy exclaimed before whirling around and bear-hugging his father's leg. Aldrakar chuckled and reached down to pick him up and carried him to the dinner table. There it seemed that Jocelin and Asher were getting quickly acquainted with one another. Aldrakar planted his firstborn son opposite of Jocelin and ruffled his hair. ''Behave now, she's Da's friend hmm?'' He looked at Jocelin with a neutral expression, perhaps worried, perhaps cautious but didn't let it linger.
Little Luc was proficient at his craft and had anticipated his moment to serve. True to his gut feeling he was ready to present a fine course of cold and warm meats, soups in small bowls and various fruits and salads. They were shown and offered and then placed on the tables. Aldrakar meanwhile took a seat opposite of Asher and thus completed the eyes 4. Jocelin next to Asher and opposite of Aldrakar II and Aldrakar the father opposite Asher and next to his son Aldrakar II.
As food was arrayed and placed on their plates Aldrakar poured wine from a decanter. It was a red wine from Sulorte and it seemed both boys also got some, albeit very little and with ample of water. He couldn't help himself making a small display of pouring Jocelin's glass with practiced ease. ''I hope it will suit your tastes'' He said onto her.
Himself he began to calmly address the food in front of him. He wasn't worried and relaxed as he tasted the various foods. A perceptive observer might discern that Aldrakar favored fruits and cold meats and didn't like the various small soups.
While the starters were served it was obvious that roast of meat and fish was coming rather soonish or perhaps exactly when they were meant to, it was little Luc overseeing the dinner after all.
''Did you boys know that Lady Jocelin is a great friend of your father? She's always been nice to me and has cared for my friends even when I couldn't.'' Both boys threw big eyes first at their father and then at Jocelin. ''Be sure to always be nice to her and make sure she feels welcome in our home alright?'' Asher was first to respond. ''You want to see Nibbles? He's a Horse! The best Horse!'' His excitement at his favorite horse easily overcoming his sense of etiquette and he looked a fountain of energy. Completely forgetting his earlier embarrassment.
Aldrakar laughed. ''Hold your horses Asher, let her eat first! There will be plenty of time for that tomorrow. Why don't we let Lady Jocelin tell us how she came to be in our City? How are you Jocelin?'' The last bit of his words the true question. Spoken with sincerity and his eyes more sad than his smile would make believe. The boys were oblivious to the signs though.
-
-Jocelin
"But I could have sworn... no? Well, nevermind." She looked out toward the water, smirking as she glanced sideway at the younger boy. Jocelin leaned over the arm of her seat, whispering conspiratorily out of the corner of her mouth, "Just wait: you'll be taller, Asher. I've now half a head on my older brother."
Very faintly she could hear the Aldrakars' conversation, carried up the low slope by the breeze. There was a hint of wistfulness in her expression as she watched the exchange between father and son that was gone by the time they made it back to the grotto. A dark-eyed servant came forward to discreetly take the boy's toy sword away, melting back into the knot of bodies preparing their food. Her gaze lingered on the dark spots on Aldrakar II's clothes and drifted to the matching ones on the elder's leg. At the introduction she smiled back, placated by the presence of the boys. The anger was --for now-- set aside in favor of pleasant company and rich foods.
At this time the servants brought the food forth, presenting a motley of strange and familiar dishes. She accepted a little from everything set before her, gracious in her thanks until her plate was nearly as large as the hungry boys. Her last meal had been on the ship that had brought her into Giask, and even that had been light on account of some seasickness. Jocelin thought nothing of it until she met Aldrakar's eyes as he leaned over to fill the glass between them. Her face flushed hot with embarrassment, and she stuttered a thanks. To cover for her embarrassment she reached for the wine, lingering with it on her lips to hide the red of her cheeks. The scent of it was what made her think of Sulorte and her handsome home on the coast. That had been before her relationship with Aldrakar had soured...
She ate quickly, hiding her prodigious appetite amongst smaller, hastier bites. Between them she held conversations with both boys, juggling topics with the ease of a professional entertainer. Aldrakar was much more dignified with his dinner, and was quiet for a long time. When he did speak the boys looked at her curiously. Not fair! Asher cut off whatever response she would have made, and afterwards, a dilemma. Did she tell his sons she was a prisoner? No.
"I came because I was invited to join a Temple and become a priestess." I wanted my life to be different. "I was overeager and had some troubles on the dock, and your father invited me to stay for a while. As for how I am..." Her words trailed off. She looked from Asher to Aldrakar II and finally Aldrakar, steadily meeting his gaze. "I have my Ljúfa." The boys looked confused... but to a parent, she might as we'll have admitted things were not great. That she could admit as much after being so standoffish spoke volumes.
-
Gentle Night - Aldrakar
"I have my Ljúfa." The boys looked confused... but to a parent, she might as we'll have admitted things were not great. That she could admit as much after being so standoffish spoke volumes.
--
The dinner proceeded as one might've expected from a small and cozy get together albeit with a half dozen servants making everything just so much easier. Aldrakar sat back often and enjoyed the sight of Jocelin speaking with either of his sons. Where Asher was eager to show her Nibbles, his favorite horse and tell her about what kind of tricks he could do on horseback did Aldrakar II actually wait his turn more often than not. When he did speak or rather interacted with Jocelin he tried to act the host and offer her foods and advice her on what to pair with what to get the best tasting favors.
Every now and then Aldrakar would help either of his sons make a point or to rein them in. A bit of humor went a long way and where that didn't work some father worship did wonders as Aldrakar did a small trick with his hands or lifted his boys up and placed them on his knee as to keep them rooted for a while. Asher crawled under the table once to claim a spot on his father's knee which was one of the more intimate and spontaneous moments perhaps.
As the evening grew longer so did the stamina of the boys wane. Asher was barely keeping his eyes open and Aldrakar II was hugging his chair. Aldrakar swirled the last of his wine in its glass as he regarded them both and looked back at Jocelin. ''Madelin?'' Aldrakar asked into the evening and the hazel eyed, young woman appeared that previously had watched over Aldrakar II and his water fencing. ''Yes Master Aldrakar?'' She spoke with a gentle voice that hinted at a proper upbringing. Aldrakar motioned at his oldest son and handed her Asher whom she took by his tiny hand. She then collected the other son and took them both away from the grotto.
Glancing behind him Aldrakar motioned with his hand and Luc, along with 2 other servants appeared and started to clean the dishes away. Overhead the sky had cleared and a big, half moon shone brightly among a multitude of stars. ''Come, let me show you the root of those little flowers.'' Aldrakar stood up as he spoke to Jocelin and nodded at the lush coverings of flowers that hung from the little kitchen building.
He offered her his arm as he set out at a trudge and calmly made his way through the Palatial garden at night. It wasn't that dark though, every here and there stood lanterns or actual torches. Yet the overcasting branches of great trees and immense bushes and big leafed plants made it a most private walk. They passed a beautifully worked ivory Aviary that was nestled in white marble and overgrown with fragrant plants. Inside where treasures that slept quietly.
"It's good to see you are in good health, I feared I'd never actually get to see you, ever.'' His choice of words a bit awkward he realized himself and he couldn't do anything more than make an innocent smile and shrug. ''You know what I mean.'' Walking past a peach tree they glided through a veritable wall of sweet air, Aldrakar reached around Jocelin with am arm to ensure none of the vines would tangle him or her. Vines of Orchid and vines of other small flowering plants that nestled in the canopy of trees.
Their path took them past and over a small brook, it bubbled and gurgled quietly as water rushed over its shallows and tiny silver shimmering fish could be seen just under its surface. Its banks filled with bell shaped, white flowers and tropical ferns. Somewhere along their walk Aldrakar asked her. ''I'm sorry if I hurt you.'' A pause followed. ''You are not a prisoner Jocelin, you never will be to me or of me.'' He looked at her face and tried to figure out how she reacted. ''I miss the words we used to share. It feels like I know you and I only have to get used to the person I see before me but not the personality.'' He arched both eyebrows as he faced her. ''Not that -that- will be difficult.'' He smirked mischievously.
He walked for a bit wanting to savor his little tease. ''I've always said the past is the past and we should hold it dear but never let it hold us prisoner. Lets remember the past we have shared and continue in a better light, the best of lights?'' He pushed away one of the rare, huge leafs of an orchid that was just within arm's reach for him and plucked a pristine white flower from its nestled sprawl of roots and offered it to her.
-
The Lonely Girl - Jocelin
Jocelin responded eagerly to the boys' attention and gave it back pound for pound. They spoke of horses and playing in the garden: she confessed her love of fish and painting. The golden lady finished eating long before the dinner was actually done but continued to accept the eldest brother's offerings, and when he performed a trick with his hands she took a spoon and waggled it so that it seemed to bend. Immediately both of them wanted to learn and picked up their own. Aldrakar II's swordsmanship held him in good stead, but it was Asher who caught on fastest to how she did it. When they asked for more she shook her head, "My brother never taught me any of his tricks, and I only learned that from watching so often."
When their energy began flagging she lowered her voice, and finally fell silent. Beside her Asher fought to stay upright and failed, slumping against her side. He blinked owlishly at his father across the table, content. Jocelin finished the last of her wine with her free hand (for her other was trapped under the sleeping boy) and leaned back in her seat. She remained that way until Aldrakar summoned Madelin to take the boys away, and when they were gone she smiled at him. "I don't think I need to tell you you should be proud." It appeared as though something occurred to her then, and she looked thoughtfully at the direction the boys had gone. "Their nurse..?" She never finished the question.
While the staff cleared the dishes away she looked out into the gardens. The moon had risen higher and no longer framed the flowers hanging over the entrance; instead, it reflected in the rippling surface of Aldrakar II's watery nemesis, doubling its light and beauty. She heard Aldrakar inviting her to admire the flowers and rose, adjusting her skirts to follow. Her hands smoothed the red cotton self-consciously as she checked for stains or crumbs; finding none, Jocelin slipped her arm through his. Though at first she thought nothing of it, it was only when they were alone that she became acutely aware of the heat and weight of his arm against hers. Their proximity was no closer than what she would experience with her father (or in that same vein, Rynn), but the darkness made it seem more... intimate. The closest experience she'd had to the uncomfortable quickening of her pulse or the sudden awareness of his shape under his clothes had been with Erasmus, and even then... it was no secret that their marriage had been political, and himself twice her age.
She pushed the comparison away and let herself enjoy the walk. The aviary they passed veritably glowed in the moonlight, and the white flowers with their dark hearts seemed to watch their passing like eyes on their vines. Her gaze lingered on a pale blue gem with gold trim, and she reached out and touched the blossom in passing. The scent that followed from the stirred flower made her glance back... but of course, it had disappeared into the dark. She stored it away for later, fully intending to ask about it when Aldrakar spoke. "It's good to see you are in good health, I feared I'd never actually get to see you, ever." Her smile was shyer, especially when he lifted his arm over her. Jocelin's stammered reply was unintelligible, and she was grateful for the dark that hid her blush.
When they came to the brook she stopped. The tropical flowers were unfamiliar and out of place in her memories... but the closeness of the woods and the scent and sound of running water under the fragrance of flowers sent a wave of homesickness through her. Her heart ached for Thysan and her ancestral estate, and the nostalgia lingered until he spoke again. The peace that had filled her that evening was gone in an instant, replaced by resentment. She remained silent until he stopped to pluck a flower, and when he offered it to her she hesitated, not taking it. Her eyes were full of reproach when they met his. "You could have trusted me."
"You've always got so much to say... yet you gloss over an apology long overdue? I wasn't just hurt, Aldrakar: I was in the dark, and never have I needed more--" Kindness. The word went unsaid because he already knew; had already received her letters. She had called him cruel. Even meeting him and realizing it for a falsehood didn't mean she was ready to forgive him.
Jocelin shook her head. "You bring me here, and you show me such beautiful things, and all I can see is how untouched it is by the war. And it makes my heart glad to see you and your boys safe... but do you know how many years of my life are made worthless by that knowledge?" How many dead? I can't even remember all their names anymore, and I swore I'd never forget. Jocelin couldn't help it: her eyes shone wetly in the dark, and she wiped them away with the back of her hand. She tried to speak but couldn't, turning away instead. It was unfortunate she was so tall: the pearl net that held her hair snagged on a low-hanging branch, and her struggling only managed to tear it free. Most of it remained intact, but a few white pearls fell away and bounded into the darkness. Her hair --ethereal and wispy-- fell free, bound in a braid that looked to be unravelling. She held her hairnet and made an angry sound before throwing him a dirty look that was equal parts petulant and embarrassed.
-
Together - Aldrakar
Her eyes were full of reproach when they met his. "You could have trusted me."
--
The hum and song of the night and the gardens around them died away as her words pelted him like a sudden autumn storm. Full of hail come too early and with gusts of wind strong enough to rip away a scarf and leave the skin cold to the touch. When Jocelin turned, arrested by her emotions Aldrakar exhaled the breath he had been holding. His face no longer sported a smile and inside his chest he felt a tightness as images and memories passed his mind's eye. Battle, blood, death but also rebuilding and many, many letters of peace and war. The thoughts taking no longer than it took to release the air in his lungs slowly.
Looking at Jocelin struggle with the branches that had snared her hairnet he reached out to help as he moved in closer but he was too late to be of any use. the glow of the night danced upon her ethereal blond hair, the strands that made up the braid unraveling. He was captivated and then met her gaze. He read her pain and recognized it, his arms moving and his face a pained visage that said a slew of words without saying them. Aldrakar collected Jocelin in his arms not knowing or caring if she would struggle. His frame that of a warrior and swordsman but without many of the often associated scars by merit of luck mostly.
"I know. I cannot remember their names either. You went through a hell and you shouldered the heaviest burdens.'' a hand rising to cup the back of her head as he held her. "You are right, I wasn't there. There were other people, they are gone now and we cannot bring them back. I wanted to be there for you, I think you know that.'' He smelled her hair as they were locked together and stared up at the sky above. Swaying gently as he told her things would be alright now. Knowing that the war hadn't ended and the people were still dead. The white flower lay at their feet shrouded in their shadows.
Despite the horrors of the world and her warm tears. Aldrakar felt a spark of happiness, something he hadn't felt for a long time. During a pause in his soothing words to Jocelin he arched his eyebrows and smiled at the moon and then looked down at the top of Jocelin's head. This felt right even if it was borne from controversy.
-
-Jocelin
Her struggle was half-hearted, her desperation for comfort warring with the bitterness she felt for him and all his countrymen. When she finally stopped fighting she fell to shaking, fighting back the sobs that she feared would lower herself in his eyes. She never returned his embrace but stood with her arms at her sides, burying her face into the dip of his shoulder until he drew her closer. For a long time Jocelin was silent, acutely aware of their proximity on a level that she'd never reached before. The thunderous boom of his heart under her ear... the warmth of his skin against her forehead... Aldrakar was stroking her hair and whispering comforting nonsense, and all she could focus on was his breath across her temple. And she willed it to end, because there was no sense in getting lost in his embrace.
After a time she regained control of herself. Jocelin's shaking ceased, and she --reluctantly, it seemed-- drew away from him. She didn't get far before she had to sit, absolutely exhausted from the day's exertsions. A smooth stone on the brook's bank became her new seat, and she folded her legs under her and drew her skirts in close so they'd remain dry. The iciness remained at bay, replaced with noblewoman's composure, and her eyes seemed to see through the brush ahead of her to something miles beyond obtainable. At length she spoke, her voice halting and unsure. "I don't... know... that I belong here. And if I do; if this is somehow where I'm supposed to wind up... how do I justify betraying those who've fought as I have?" Living or dead? "And if I could..."
-
Words in the Dark - Aldrakar
At length she spoke, her voice halting and unsure. "I don't... know... that I belong here. And if I do; if this is somehow where I'm supposed to wind up... how do I justify betraying those who've fought as I have?" Living or dead? "And if I could..."
-Jocelin Le Drake
--
Aldrakar watched as Jocelin took the few steps gingerly to her new perch. She arranged herself neatly and took on a ponderous demeanor or so Aldrakar thought. Her words came out and lingered much like the water that flowed in the brook. It too altered course and was never sure where it would go next. Past this pebble or that one but always going forwards towards some unknown and unspoken goal.
He took in her words and made to sit on his hunches next to her. A small cramp in his left calf informed him that he wouldn't keep that up though. Acting before the little cramp could get worse he sat down properly at the edge of brook atop a bunch of little rocks that weren't to sharp and he endured the discomfort without much visible sign of it. The knee of his left leg up and it's foot down with the right leg through the arch it created and rested on the ground. Aldrakar leaned back on both hands as he spoke, leaving Jocelin undisturbed.
"How do you justify betraying those that have fought?'' the tone of his voice deep as he drew the words out. Some time passed by where they simply sat side by side. ''You don't. You cannot betray them for you have fought beside them. You have done more than most have and sacrificed greatly in the process. Not that sacrifice removes betrayal though.'' He drew in breath to continue but halted, holding the breath for a moment as he considered his next words. ''You belong where you want to. No one but you decide where that is. Not I, not the people you ruled, not a King and certainly not those stars.'' Aldrakar smiled at that last bit as he pushed himself up on one hand and used the other to point up at the sky above.
''Why must we honor the dead? Because they died for a cause. We should remember the cause and respect their diligence or misfortune to have died for it. I believe there are few men or women who choose death whom rather would have lived with their ideals. We fought for peace, we still do, you and I.'' He looked at her. ''I already told you that you were no prisoner of mine and you may go where you will. You must even. You betray nothing and no one when you live for your ideals. I live for Peace, my sons, for the prosperity and safety of the people, for you, for myself.'' He looked back at the sky. ''Those that fight for ruin will see ruin visited upon them, I am sure of this. You are not like that and with you a great many other people. You fought for peace, you had people that told you to fight Luria to create peace probably. To carve out a new Homeland. Ruin?''
''That is not accusing you or anyone else for that matter. We all wished peace but it was war and still is. You know my heart in this and know of my efforts for peace. Perhaps the beasts of the west came for a reason, perhaps they just happened. I don't know. The minds of men and Kings are so that they will not give when a hand is taking from them. I do not know why, I am not a sage and not a King. I do know however that I've struggled for peace, only due to my good name have some not called me coward or worse but I care not. I want better days without bloodshed and without hurt. It hurt me greatly when you were sad and I received colder letters from you Jocelin. Colder and they seemed written by the hand of another, I was shocked and I was confused. Those words were not from the person I thought you were. You are not that woman for I've beheld you now this evening and I accepted you into my home and trusted you with the blood of my blood and you were kind. I am sorry for the cold words I used in response, it was weak of me.'' Aldrakar's jaw stood taut as he chewed on an imaginary morsel of food but continued after a brief moment.
''They like you though, and with children's eyes looked up at you and saw you for what you are. A true person with a golden heart brighter still than your eyes.''
Aldrakar smiled at the sky after which he lowered himself onto the ground, shouldering away some of the bigger rocks and tried to be as comfortable as he could be, crossing a single arm behind his head for it to rest upon. ''Damn rocks.'' He muttered into the night. He wiggled a particular rocky agent of torment from under his hip and threw it into the brook. Water splashed up as it broke the surface of the fast flowing water.
''You are free Jocelin. Free to be who you want to be and with whomever you want, wherever you desire. You betray nothing with that and never will. Honor those that fell or still struggle with peace and happiness. Both of which you create yourself, on your own terms.'' Somewhere in the dark, among the ferns, a soft rustling sound emerged. A short while later a red bodied, palm crab came stumbling out and towards the edge of the brook where it sat and drank presumably. Only a cat would truly be able to see but they rarely care.
"You were great with the boys. They like you a great deal I think and thank you for telling me that I was lucky to have them, or proud.'' Aldrakar's eyes turned back to Jocelin. Wondering what her thoughts where but still being unable to read her mind or face in the dark that was the night.
-
-Jocelin
She remained silent until he had finished, listening attentively. Her expression was solemn but not mournful, and she seemed resigned to whatever path she saw for herself that he couldn't. "I'm noble-born and a woman. My life is less my own than you might think." Jocelin cracked a smile as she watched Aldrakar dig a rock out from under him, tossing it aside when it was free. She didn't speak of her vow to the nobility on this continent --to see the war ended in her lifetime, and all the realms brought to a compromise over land rights, and perhaps the establishment of a cease fire-- but there was no need: she lived and breathed it, and few had come to know her who did not know her desire for peace. That she thought she could achieve it was equal parts confidence and arrogance.
Her attention was caught by the crab that came to the edge of the water across from them. When it first appeared out of the underbrush her eyes --great and golden and (unfortunately, in this instance) keen even in the dark-- grew as large as saucers, and when it was only a few feet away she pulled her skirts tighter to her body and prepared to bolt. Her stillness in the meantime was not relaxation but the tension of an arrow ready to loose at a moment's notice. "Aldrakar..." What the hell is that? The thought went unspoken, but it showed in her face. Thankfully the palm crab scurried back into the brush when he began talking again. Jocelin's gaze remained intent on the brush that it had disappeared into, one half of her straining to hear its movement away from them while the other half absorbed what he said about her and the boys. It was the thought of Asher that brought her back down from her heightened state. "No need to thank me for the truth."
"Do you really think I was good with them?" Ljúfa was so young (and a girl) and as the youngest of her own siblings Jocelin hadn't much experience with young boys. She could hardly remember her own brother at that age, having been only three at the time.
-
Ferns and little Eyes - Aldrakar
"Do you really think I was good with them?" Ljúfa was so young (and a girl) and as the youngest of her own siblings Jocelin hadn't much experience with young boys. She could hardly remember her own brother at that age, having been only three at the time.
- Jocelin Le Drake
--
Growing content on the bed of rocks Aldrakar looked at at whatever it was that had Jocelin transfixed. ''Ohh don't worry. Probably a small bird or something. Never thought you were one to startle quickly.'' He smirked as his tone became that of a tease. ''You are in no danger, I'm sure I've told you that before already. You going to stay worried about what might lay in wait behind those ferns?'' He motions for her to come closer. ''I'll protect you.'' The words as much mockery as they might ring true.
"Do you really think I was good with them?" Jocelin asked him. ''Well.. I might not be around them as often as I'd like and I have received a lot of help raising them but yes. I do think you were good with them.'' Aldrakar made simple hand-gestures as he spoke that he wasn't conscientiously aware of. ''I mean, Asher clearly adores you. Sure, he wants to show Nibbles to everyone but I rarely see him so open and enthusiastic. Must be you.'' He glanced over at Jocelin and shrugged.
''Aldrakar II is a serious little thing really. I have to drag him by his pinky toe every time I want to pry him away from the sword masters and have him focus on something else. I fear he will become too austere and private.'' Thoughts and considerations passed over Aldrakar's face and he rummaged through them. ''With you he was, forthcoming?'' Aldrakar looked at Jocelin for confirmation and turn on his flank to face her as he continued. Using one hand and arm to support his head. ''He engaged you, wanted to help you, served you food even! He's usually more uncaring about people he doesn't know and always very proper, mimicing the stoic nature of the swordmasters. Right down to the way they bow! It's infuriating at times.'' A rueful smile spread across his face as his eyes perceived an image only he could see.
Slowly he returned to the present and caught her eye, surprising himself. ''You though. You think I'm very free? hmm?'' His eyes and brow tempting her to answer his question. ''I am the Lord of one of the Greatest Cities ever, the Realm depends on it to flourish. The entire Nobility demand justice of me and due to my good name expectations are ever increasing. Do I mind or even care? No. I do what I do because I believe in it. I've not asked for any title I have except that of Sulorte and Giask. I think you know those two stories. All the others were given unasked. We are as free as we allow ourselves to be I think. Look at Asher. He didn't want to have dinner inside so he had all the servants and Little Luc scramble to make arrangements outside! the little devil.'' Aldrakar chuckled softly.
''You are Noble Born Jocelin and definitively a woman.'' His smile turning to a grin he couldn't hold at bay. ''Don't let either be a burden you impose on yourself for I see only wonder and much to admire.'' His grin subsided and all that remained was a small smile.
''We should probably get inside, keep you safe from whatever it was that scurried through the ferns. Your little nemesis hmm?'' He couldn't help himself from laughing, displaying his white and good teeth. ''And to think my guardsmen were scared of you!'' his smirk returned.
-
-Jocelin
"I wouldn't have known... about the boys, I mean." She dipped her head modestly. Jocelin joined him on the ground, her knees tucked under her so as to remain out of the dirt. Various river-worn stones dug into her knees, but if she minded there was no indication of it. She regarded him with amusement equal to his own. "I'm sure Aldrakar will turn out alright... both of them." Mischief danced behind those golden eyes.
"...All the others were given unasked. We are as free as we allow ourselves to be I think. Look at Asher. He didn't want to have dinner inside so he had all the servants and Little Luc scramble to make arrangements outside! The little devil." She stared at him for a long minute when he'd finished, her expression inscrutable. By the time she was ready to respond it was too late: Aldrakar mentioned retiring for the evening. She nodded, only just then realizing how tired he was. The fair lady stifled a yawn behind a finely-boned hand; with her skirts gathered in one hand she tried to push herself off the ground with the other. "Your guards were afraid of--"
A smooth stone slipped out from under her palm. Jocelin followed, falling forward on the rocky bank. They hadn't been sitting far from the brook, and one arm splashed in the water while the other remained pinned under her body. For nearly a full minute Jocelin sputtered in the muddy silt, uttering obscenties completely unfit for a lady of court. Whatever small animal had been nearby crashed away from them in the brush, startled by her outburst. It wasn't until she was finished that she pushed herself up on her hands and knees, the ends of her fine hair muddy and dripping.
"..."
As if nothing had occurred at all Jocelin tried again, pushing herself to her feet. She walked several paces away and then slumped over against a tree, all the while leaving bits of debris and dead plant matter in her wake. Her shoulders shook as if she cried... but a laugh came instead. Jocelin hid her face on the tree's trunk to stifle the sound, laughing so hard that when she did finally look at him her face was red with mirth and embarrassment in the moonlight. A scrape on her chin bled, and the muddy smudges on her cheek only worsened when she tried to wipe them away with the back of her hand. She tried to say something but was tongue-tied and only ended up hiding her face once more.
-
A Moment's Recluse - Aldrakar
"Your guards were afraid of--" and then it happened. The golden eyed lady took a tumble towards to the brook. Aldrakar got up from his position but as he did his ears lied to him. Spluttered curses and profanities arose from the not so graceful water nymph. An instant grin appeared, out of sight, on his face. He approached to where she lay but Jocelin recovered in time.
Forcing his face into a neutral and even slightly worry expressing he watched as Jocelin made her second attempt and this time succeeded to get up. She passed him by without a look but after only a few steps sought support from one of the old trees. True worry now sang quietly in Aldrakar's mind and he moved rapidly towards her. His lips parting as he wanted to ask her if she was alright but then he heard her laugh. He slowed his pace and it felt like a little elephant decided to remove itself from his shoulders.
Her laugh was uncontrolled, loud and rich. She turned to him. Red faced and a complete mess. Her eyes shone with unbridled joy and her mind probably didn't approve as a red hue rushed up her cheeks. She hid her face again from him. Infected by her laugh Aldrakar joined her in laughing as he walked over with slow, deliberate steps. When she turned again the back of her hand worked to remove a smudge of mud from her cheek but the rubbing only smeared it all over.
He moved towards her until he could only see her face and feel the warmth radiate away from her. She tried to hide her face again, the tree a very willing accomplice where she found herself lost for words. ''Let me see that.'' Aldrakar said softly as he reached a hand to her chin as to turn it so that he could see the scrape. It wasn't anything dangerous at all it seemed but he took his good time inspecting it gravely. His eyes tracing the line of her jaw and neck, a small smile ever on his lips. ''It's fatal, you're going to die.'' He worked with his other hand to grab the sleeve of his white linen shirt of that same arm. Not too difficult as they were usually too long anyway, he balled the fabric into a knot. In a very casual way he started to carefully dab the blood on her chin. ''A mark for life, you'll never look the same. Good thing you'll die from it really.'' His eyes met hers and he smiled reassuringly before turning back to his work.
''There, that should do.'' Aldrakar released the knot of linen and leaned back a fraction to take in her entire face. A moment passed and he found his thoughts banished, he looked at her lips and leaned in again. He brushed his lips against hers waiting for her response and placed a hand on her jaw, his index finger trailing up to her hairline. The overcast rustling gently as the night's breeze toyed with it. A torch spluttered along the path they had departed earlier and the water of the brook still made its gurgling noise.
-
-Jocelin
She let him turn her face toward his, her chin stinging now that the initial shock of slipping had passed. Under her skirts she also felt sore in the knees, and a scrape on her palm that was the equal to the one on her face made itself known. The grave quality of his expression did nothing to dampen her sudden spirits, for the accident had reminded her of a similar event with her brother. They'd been playing on the bank of one of Thysan's many hidden streams when she'd slipped on a mossy stone and ended up in the freezing (yet thankfully shallow) water. Two days of the worst cold she'd ever experienced had put a healthy respect for her brother's uncanny balance in her.
"It's fatal, you're going to die." She deadpanned, playing along with his mock concern. "Will you at least write my eulogy? Say I was the greatest thing ever to fall into your pond." There was an odd stillness to her as he cleaned her chin with his sleeve, a sort of breathless anticipation that had nothing to do with her fall. The color remained in her cheeks, and her heart pounded frantically between her ribs. "I feel it," She murmured to no one in particular, unconcerned for the time being if there would be a scar. There might have been more forthcoming if his expression hadn't changed the way it did. Aldrakar studied her face, his eyes lingering so long on her lips they seemed to tingle under the power of his gaze. As when they were locked arm-in-arm she was acutely aware of the shape and heat of him.
"Aldra--..."
His hand cupped her jaw, his fingertips keenly-felt points of gentle pressure in her hair. Her entire body thrilled at the contact and sparked to life when his lips brushed hers. Jocelin's mouth opened against his with a sigh, inviting him to greater exploration. She swayed into the kiss, mere fractions of space between them as she managed to retain some self-control. An invading thought kept her from giving in completely to his charms.
I must ask Glaumring.
Her late husband's friend and spiritual guide, and through him, her own. She had come to Luria Nova for the purpose of joining the Cult more fully; as a widow with a young daughter, that seemed the best way to honor Erasmus' memory and find peace with herself. Another woman might have put aside the past in favor of the warmth in front of her... but others did not hold their duties in such high regard as she. And as tempting as pursuing the end of this single night with a man she'd come to know through a hundred letters was...
Jocelin's lips closed. With another sigh --this one subdued-- she parted from him. Her eyes shone in the darkness. "I have to ask... before I pursue whatever this is, I must go to the Temple. Lord Glaumring is expecting me."
-
An end to the Garden - Aldrakar
Aldrakar felt her lips part and her body relax as Jocelin sighed. Then there was hesitation, a stifling set of heartbeats later and her lips closed and she moved away from him, a second sigh sounded but this one downcast where the first was in stark contrast. "I have to ask... before I pursue whatever this is, I must go to the Temple. Lord Glaumring is expecting me."
Lord Glaumring? He is an agent of Chaos by his own word. Aldrakar watched Jocelin struggle with whatever thoughts she had and reached up to scratch the back of his head. He blew out some air as he felt the sensation of anticipation turn to sourness and tried to defy it. In an attempt to veil the disappointment he stretched his arms and look up at the overcast of stars high above them. She likes me, no two doubts about it. The thought made him smile and whatever tension was left in him ebbed away. Men are some of the vainest and simplest creatures at times.
He looked at Jocelin and walked up to her. ''Then you should ask. Ask Glaumring what you need and if you find he gives you positive answers, return.'' He brushed aside some of her mud stained locks and chuckled softly. ''You're a mess. A good mess though!'' He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and led her back to the Palace. They wound through the gardens again, passing the aviary and the same array of flowers and plants, still lingering in the glow of torch- and moonlight. His fingers gently squeezing her shoulder or arm whenever he wanted to share a sight with her and words were left unspoken for most of the walk back, at least, by him.
Arriving at the plaza outside of the Palatial Wing 2 servants moved up with haste as they spotted the disheveled Jocelin. Aldrakar warded them off with a stern look and they melted like snow before the sun. As they did Aldrakar made a flick of his head towards the entrance which followed by a sharp shake, a dismissive gesture. The brighter of the two servants grasped the intend and rushed to the hallways that lay beyond the entrance. By the time Aldrakar and Jocelin arrived it was empty of servants or guards, none to witness Jocelin's state of dress. The warmth of a dozen small braziers and fireplaces greeted them and Aldrakar slipped his arm off of her shoulders and ran a hand over her back, gently rubbing it in an attempt to bring some warmth back into her. The action both as simple as it was but also in consideration of her. She might not like other people thinking we are close.
The palace stretched before them and seemed without end. Curiously enough they encountered almost no servants and only a handful of guards who stood like statues. At last they arrived at the end of a corridor which they reached after a flight of orange marble stairs. The end was marked by a large marble arch shot through with orange and delicately sculpted and inlaid so that it held the landscape of a setting sun over an orange lake. ''You see those doors over there?'' Aldrakar pointed at a set of beautifully worked wooden doors. Inlaid with amber and gold to make the Seal of House Renodin. ''Beyond those doors you will find me and the boys. Everything up until this arch from those doors are my personal quarters. Not really personal, I could never sleep in all the beds at the same time. Its the family wing or at least, that's how I call it. Pick any room and use anything like it was your own home. If you are gone in the morning I will not wonder.'' He smiled at her and reached down to boldly plant a kiss on lips. ''Whatever this is, it is good. Good night Jocelin.'' With those words spoken Aldrakar moved on alone towards the amber inlaid door and pushed past them.
-
-Jocelin
Jocelin sensed his disappointment and tried to alleviate it with another quick kiss, this one shy and fleeting. She dropped her head and then peeked up at him with timid eyes, the effect somehow lost by her great height. At being called a mess she managed a lopsided grin, only just then realizing that she was shaking. The night was warm, but the mud and water of the creek hadn't been. She was glad for the arm Aldrakar put around her and huddled close, easily as silent as she'd been when they first met. Only this time the silence was more companionable, and a tiny smile nestled on her lips as they walked. At times when he pointed at something interesting or beautiful in the garden she only looked and nodded, unwilling to break the quiet between them.
She was clearly relieved when Aldrakar sent the servants away, and looked askew at him as she began to notice the lack of servants on errands that passed them. As a sign of her gratitude she laid her head on his shoulder for a moment, breaking the barrier of propriety that she'd brought down between them. Her spine arched under his unexpected touch, seeking more of it, and she swayed on her feet, unbalanced. Jocelin recovered mid-stride and carried on as if nothing had occurred.
When they came to the steps her attention was caught by the ornateness of the etchings. Both above and below, whoever had sculpted it had invoked the feeling of a day ending. But her expression was not one of idle curiosity: there was criticism in her eyes, not for the artist nor the artwork but for something more personal than that. It was the same look a knight would have as he surveyed the enemy lines, seeking a worthy challenge. She seemed to find it, and grunted with pleasure. It was at this time that Aldrakar kissed her, and she realized that she'd missed the first part of what he'd said. Internally Jocelin chided herself for such a misstep... but inwardly, she thrilled that he would kiss her again after her previous rejection. Jocelin met his boldness in equal measure, but again cut it off too abruptly. "I will be gone," She warned him, breathless, "But I'll be back. I came to this realm to become a priestess; tonight..." Jocelin trailed off. There were no words for how happy she was to spend an evening with him after so long, but she still felt reservations. Loyalty, to her dead husband and their marriage; guilt, that she had let Aldrakar kiss her; joy, that he had. She longed to discuss these things with someone, and who better than a man who was not only her former husband's friend and advisor, but who had become her own?
Aldrakar said his goodnight and left for his quarters. She lingered in the hall until he was gone, and then chose the closest door to her to spend the night. It was too dark to make out any details, but she got the impression of a high ceiling and an impressive array of furniture. Jocelin found her way to the bed in the dark and underdressed, letting her damp clothes fall in a heap on the floor. The cool night air struck her skin, and she crawled into the big empty bed and buried herself in it. Long used to wearing a nightgown, the silk sheets felt strange against her bare skin. It didn't help that she was cold. I know what'd help. She thought of Aldrakar and his warmth beside her and giggled, scandalized by her own thoughts. Jocelin hid her face in the foreign pillow.
Sleep didn't come for another hour.
----
In the morning Jocelin faced a dilemma. She found that the castle's servants had brought her luggage from the prison into her quarters. Far from being embarrassed about the intrusion on her sleeping (naked) self, she now had to choose what she would wear that day. Arranged on the bed were two gowns (her clothes from the night before had mysteriously vanished); one, the severe black ensemble that she'd worn after Erasmus' death, before she'd been far enough along in her pregnancy to outgrow it. The other was a bottle-green kirtle with as low a neck as she dare... still appropriate for a lady, in truth, but risqué for Jocelin. Her golden eyes flickered from one to another, debating which she would wear that morning. One she desired Aldrakar to see her in; the other seemed the most appropriate choice to meet Glaumring in. Common sense began to pull her toward the first... but a helpful voice from beside her chest saved the day.
"Apologies, m'lady... would you like this dress with the others?"
She turned to look... and grinned, finally decided. A few minutes later she slipped out to find Aldrakar, eager to bid his small family good morning.
-
Family Breakfast - Aldrakar
The Sun had risen first that day. With an Olympian effort it was raining warmth down onto the world below it. The city around the Golden Palace was acutely aware of this cycle and the streets and docks and even parks were already filling up with the bustle of human activity. The cool of night rapidly being banished for another day of mild warmth despite it being autumn, fortunate that is was only early autumn and the ocean wind had yet to make its presence known in force. A month or so later in the year and that very wind would likely be a gale and rip the sails of unskilled sailors and captains alike.
Jocelin discovered the attentiveness of the castle servants and their uncanny ability for stealth if not discretion. Like apparitions they made castle life work. With a little help she found herself dressed in exactly that which suited her tastes and started to wander the castle halls and rooms. Seeking that which she was parted from the night before, Aldrakar and his sons.
Moving through the ''Family Wing'' she could hear words floating away towards her. ''Will lady golden eye join us like yesterday Da?'' Asher's voice. It was uncertain, hopeful and tinged with sadness at perhaps the expression he read on his father's face. If she followed the sound she would learn it came from a room that existed in the northern reaches of the Family Wing. A room divided between being indoor and having a generous outside space in the form of a balcony. Very carefully designed as to give the appearance it was an actual extension of the same room, only without walls.
''Lady Jocelin is asleep still Asher, I believe she has urgent business to attend to. Like Da does often hmm?'' A short pause followed which may have found Jocelin within line of sight as to observe or otherwise. ''Ohhhww..'' Asher looked downcast and slumped for a moment. That moment only lasting until his father gave him a look that informed the boy to straighten his back which he did. ''She was nice, she liked Nibbles.'' Asher accepted a piece of freshly sliced bread from his father. Still warm and topped with what looked like some sort of cream or herbal butter?
The room was lavish but only in its design and creation. Furniture was ornate but the most extravagant pieces that were meant mostly or entirely to impress visitors were long removed. More functional pieces had replaced it, pieces that were made to be used and lived with or on.. in the case of Aldrakar II. The boy had crawled on top of the table and struggled with a side of cold ham. It lay perfectly atop of a silver platter and arrayed with cooked fruits, now cold, herbs for decoration and even a cluster of dark red grapes set beside it.
Aldrakar II wielded a large, iron pronged fork and stabbed at the meat without much effect other than to disrupt the carefully prepared dish, aesthetically speaking. Aldrakar noticed it and chuckled. ''So much for our Family Sword Master eh? Let me try.'' He reached over and took the pronged fork from his son and used it to bring two moderate slices to Aldrakar II's plate that he carved for him. ''Want more little warrior?'' the boy shook his head as he smiled his thanks.
There were no servants in the room and not a sign either of guards. The table they sat at stood half inside and half outside on the balcony. From the Grand Docks a seaside breeze made the cream white, long curtains sway and dance. The cries of gulls rare but present and the vista that of the Great City of Giask. From the Noble district at the center, onto the Inner City, the Grand harbor and finally, the azure waters of the Euschean Sea.
Aldrakar was dressed in more formal attire than the night before, while that was an easy feat it was not entirely overdone. Breeches of excellent quality cotton dyed a hazel hue. Around his waist an oaken leather belt finished with black bronze and covering his torso a rich brown velvet coat with horizontal lace of gold decorating the chest. His previously free, golden hair was tied back in a pony tail and his jawline smooth with a fresh shave. The single jewel rule still applied and that one piece was still his golden seal ring that sat snugly around his finger. Under the velvet coat there was a a fresh linen shirt much like the one Jocelin met him in.
-
-Jocelin
She watched from the doorway for a time, her expression inscrutable. Jocelin started to leave when Aldrakar II spotted her. He didn't say anything --his mouth was full of food-- but instead sat up straighter and beckoned her over; Asher twisted in his chair to see whatever it was that had his brother's attention. The younger boy's face broke into a wide grin, "Do you want to meet Nibbles today?"
The fair lady played along, knowing she was caught. She slipped into the room and curtsied, the motion fanning her layered skirts wide. Sapphire blue and steel gray panels made up the skirt, though the rest of the simple dress was the same gray. Ivory white peeked out by her feet, and the sleeves of the underdress continued where the sleeves of the gray didn't. Silver medallions set with sapphires encircled her waist, and her hair--usually worn in a net-- was instead twisted into an intricate bun. A gold band on her left hand glinted; she didn't know what Glaumring would make of the fact she'd stopped wearing it, so she wore it today, expecting him to be none the wiser. Her skirts rippled about her legs as she rose and joined them at the table.
Jocelin took the seat next to Asher and answered his question first, though her eyes remained fixed on Aldrakar. "I have duties, sweet boy. But--" She continued hastily, looking amused at the petulant frown that resulted from her answer. "There's nothing that says I can't meet him before I go. Perhaps your father will loan me a carriage from the stables..?" A slim hand reached out and broke off a small cluster of red grapes. Using only her fingertips she picked one of the small, sweet fruit and popped it into her mouth, covering it as she chewed. Her eating was as smooth and controlled as most of what she did: effortless, and of course, needlessly so. It was the practiced grace of a dancer... or a woman raised from girlhood to be presentable.
Between grapes she engaged with the boys, trading story for story. They spoke of their exploits in the gardens; she shared tales of Thysan, reminiscing about the deep woods with its giant trees. "You know the brook?" Her gaze flickered to Aldrakar for a moment, and her smile was shy and secretive, "In Thysan there were a hundred brooks, only you couldn't find them all: the trees were so thick, they cut deep into the ground so they could flow. One minute you're on the trail: the next, you've stepped off after a flower, and there's ten feet of empty space between you and the rocky riverbed beneath your foot. My brother and I once found a fairy ring, and he told me they lived in those riverbeds and in wolves' dens, ever watchful for the demons from across the Draco River."
There was never really a timeline to her stories, and all of them were either about her own exploits or those with her brother. She never once mentioned her mother or father, and any who remembered Lord Chuldah and his common wife would remember that Rue was her half-sister. No mention of her either.
-
And then there were but 2
Enjoying a fine breakfast and at the same time socializing with his sons Aldrakar saw Jocelin enter the room. Sunlight spilled in from the huge balcony and while he sat there the wind made the cream white curtains akin to pseudo capes as they waved behind his seated person. Jocelin once more elected to sit besides Asher and the boy was obviously overjoyed at her choice.
The little boy's questions fired like arrows from a bow and the answers he got made his face a mirage of deep disapproval, excitement and boredom. His face as often manipulated by the muscles in his face as his hands as he planted them on it and pushed and pulled. Jocelin's eyes remained fixed on Aldrakar. "I have duties, sweet boy. But--" She continued hastily, looking amused at the petulant frown that resulted from her answer. "There's nothing that says I can't meet him before I go. Perhaps your father will loan me a carriage from the stables..?"
Aldrakar's deep blue eyes met her golden ones as she spoke the words and a grin threatened to overtake his entire face. ''A carriage?'' He said as the request broke him free from some very personal revelry. A frown coasted his brow for a split second. ''Of course. Just take any you like Jocelin.'' His words so casual as if it was no more than offering a polite handshake. Time passed and conversation was rich and intimate, like a family or gathering of very close friends. Aldrakar and Jocelin shared a furtive look at the mention of a certain brook that needn't have been furtive but it was anyway. Around this time a servant ventured into the room. It was Jalen, a young but accomplished official in Aldrakar's employ. The man made the smallest of bows as he favored speed and whispered something into Aldrakar's ear when he had made his way to his master's side.
Dabbing his lips with a cloth napkin Aldrakar rose and immediately drew the attention of his boys. ''Sorry boys, there's work I have to attend to.'' His eyes went to Jocelin. ''You have her to play with though! I'm sure she wouldn't mind.'' He grinned and both Asher and Aldrakar II joined him. He walked around the table and Jalen was shrewd enough to make himself vanish from the room without having to be asked. Aldrakar stopped at Jocelin's side and put his hand on hers. ''Don't forget to ask the priest for his council.'' He smiled at her and was in time to prepare himself for the double pronged assault from both of his sons. Both hugged him and begged him to stay, to drink one more glass, to take them with him, to return early, to bring a gift and many more such requests. Aldrakar agreed to many of them, especially the more absurd ones and with a flourish.
After their father had left the room Asher took it upon himself to tug at one of the Sapphire medalions that hung around Jocelin's waist. ''Let's go to Nibbles! He is waiting for us! Nibbles!'' His brother however had very different ideas and looked up at Jocelin with his big blue eyes. ''Want to watch me fight with the sword? I have training soon.. Please!''
-
Hey there! A little ''in between'' Rp that I used to add a bit of flair to unfolding events. Sorry if it is a bit vague without context but you'll have to manage for now. I trust you can.
Difficult thoughts and troublesome letters
It was a colder day today. The wind had the first real signs of winter's breath upon it and its strength had increased. The trees were noticing this as well and turned their leafs a golden brown. The season was shifting almost like the mood of the man whom sat inside his office. Aldrakar leaned with both arms onto the desk, willing it to move but the heavy oak refused. It was massive, solid and could stop a bolt from a crossbow if need be. A waste truly of the fine craftsmanship but then again, its only a thing, not a life.
Before him a small collection of letters was arrayed. He had read them before and again and again. His face contorted as he recalled the words upon their parchment. Some where soothing, apologetic and a return to the way things should be. The other, much shorter letters held mystery and a dark possibility. His fingers slowly slipped from their grip and slid over the letters, fingers grasping the two that vexed him most. Pushing himself up from the desk he threw them through the room and stood there in silent anger. His reply had already been send but the feeling never left him.
Closing his eyes Aldrakar sought refuge in the memory of happiness, Jocelin appeared to his mind's eye, his boys but also some of his sworn Knights whom had recently departed him. Their memory clashed with the tranquility he sought but failed to attain. Letting out air in frustration Aldrakar peered out the window to gauge the time of day, it was getting late, this further frustrated him. Taking a deep breath he sat down at the desk again and drew close the nearest report he had to review and set his mind to the task. A thing that required a lot more concentration then it usually did and he hoped that by the time dinner was served, he would have regained enough composure for his boy's not to notice.
-
Hey again! Today a small Rp dealing with the arrival of Aldrakar in the Capital city of Askileon, nicknamed the Silver City. Its really just a description of the character being in transit but I like writing these kinds of things. It breathes some atmosphere into an otherwise stale set of game mechanics. We are the architects of our own fun after all.
Through the Capital
A myriad of small vessels roamed the waters right in front of the docklands of the Silver City. From tiny rowing boats servicing barges to big war ships cruising the far reaches warding off would be pirates along with regulating the tariff collection that occurred off shore. The one vessel they led through without a fuss was the one flying the flag of the Office of the Imperial Magistrate. Being a high governmental official had its perks and on suggestion of Jalen, Aldrakar employed it.
Disembarking robbed them of any time they had won on their schedule as a large company of soldiers usually brought its own difficulties. Logistics, Logistics Aldrakar thought to himself as he directed a knot of soldiers off the docks and into the main boulevard of Askileon. It cut a straight line through most of the Capital and went directly to the main gate, their destination. The people of the capital were not ignorant of his arrival and before long Aldrakar found himself beset by another small army, not his own men but lawyers, spokesmen and guild representatives eager to utilize this oportunity to get their voices heard. Jalen handled them along with a handful of staff from the Renodin Household. Few against many but quality usually overcame quantity, it proved true this day at least.
Passage through the capital city went rather smooth and Aldrakar and his men were exiting it before the sun had received much chance to start its downward trajectory as it promised to do, every day, in the hours past noon.
-
Hey there, once more I bring you a piece written not by my hand. Its from the Player of Jocelin Le Drake. Hope you enjoy it and just between you and me. I feel she's much better than me as describing situations and personal thoughts. I envy her skill at that a fair bit. Cheers!
Player of Jocelin Le Drake
Jocelin hadn't yet met with Glauming, but had instead detoured to Sulorte. Her ride through the countryside that had changed hands numerous times had been silent and solemn; in fact, the closer she got to Aveston the more mournful she'd become. It was during these private reflections that her clerk --who travelled with her everywhere and helped often with the tax ledgers she perused in her capacity as a courtier-- had fallen in alongside the window of her carriage, though of course he never rode abreast of the conscience noblewoman. "It's finally come home, my lady; there's no need for sadness."
She'd looked at him askance, familiar with but disliking the times the old man tried to speak informally with her. He often attended to her in other ways than just copying her words down, to the point that she thought he mistook her for a grandchild of his. "I'm glad it is... but a lot of people died needlessly for it." Why fight, if things were never going to change?
That ride had been days ago, and the Jocelin who now had her back to her former capital was smiling at the opposite wall of the carriage. The curtains were drawn but she could still observe the city as it passed through the wispy material. It wasn't that which made her smile, however; it was the castle at the port city's heart, and the family she'd become so greatly attached to these past few days. Before she set sail across the bay for Poryatown she returned to them.
The day was ending when the gates closed behind the carriage. A footman came out to meet her; Jocelin was already stepping down, her skirts held in one hand so she might hop down more easily. Her eyes were bright and joyous... but on meeting the footman's she quieted. She smoothed her skirts and headed inside, requesting to know where Aldrakar and his sons could be found.
-
Aaand here is my response. I took on the role of the Captain of the Gatehouse. Decided they knew Jocelin came from D'hara or at least had ties to that Realm. Of course they didn't know she had been a Barcan and a Barcan Ruler at that hehe. Enjoy!
Questions at the Gate
If there ever was a Golden Season it most certainly must be autumn. The sun casts long rays nearly the entire day and where shadows mingle with the browns and yellow and reds of the flora so did those very rays grand magical glows to all it touched. The fields around the Great City were still full of life when Jocelin's carriage came to a halt on the city side of the Gatehouse.
She exited the carriage with ease and enthusiastically at that. From the formidable stone guardhouse that was build into the large gatehouse came a footman to greet her, officially. The gatehouse itself sported a small hearing court for local troubles, a monster bounty collection office, small dungeon and more still. Almost a small magisterial court. A detail of crossbowmen peered down from the gatehouse itself as they whispered boasts to one another as they ogled the Noble lady below. The only notice they gave were the regular outbursts of soft laughing they could not contain and really tried to suppress.
The Footman that went to meet Jocelin was a big man, decked in musculature gained over years of service and dressed in a heavy ring-mail armor that was well belted and around the neck a medalion of sorts that might've given notice of his actual station in the Garrison. The black haired man bowed, a simple and crude action. ''Captain Uleus, My Lady. I welcome you into the City of Giask.'' His words spoken in a full voice that carried easily. Jocelin inquired as to the whereabouts of Aldrakar and his sons. The man could not control himself from frowning at the word -sons- but he recovered quickly enough.
''The Lord of Giask should be at the Palace my Lady.'' He paused for a brief moment. ''However, that would be true if he didn't set sail yesterday for the capital. I've heard that he took his chosen warriors with him. I reckon he's marching against the latest D'haran invaders, my Lady.'' Laughter trickled down onto them as it escaped covered mouths at the mention of the word D'harans.
The Captain of the Gatehouse stood with a straight back as if he hadn't heard a thing. ''The Lord's sons whereabouts are not within my knowledge, I imagine they are with their mentors and tutors, my Lady.''
-
It continues! Here a bit written by the Player of Jocelin Le Drake. I always enjoy her Rp's they are well written and feel complete. No details left out or forgotten. Enjoy!
----
Jocelin heard the laughter from above and ignored it, concentrating instead on the man who'd come out to greet her. Like most men he found himself of almost equal height to the noble lady before the gates, and it might even be said that she had a handful of inches on him. With the setting sun at her back her shadow stretched beyond Captain Uleus, the first part of her to cross the threshold here at the gate. She'd long since gotten over how awkward her height made some conversations, and in this case used it for a scolding. For though she'd changed her colors to those of Luria, she had friends and family in D'Hara, people who had supported and sheltered her when her world was falling apart. The shift that followed his words was startling: she went from a smiling girl eager to see Aldrakar again to solid ice, her stepford smile dangerous for all its sweetness.
"If the D'Harans are invading... truly, they must be repelled. But if ever I hear an ill word spoken of them in my presence, or their name accompanied by laughter..." Her face had gone white, and her body shook with suppressed fury. She met the eyes of each crossbowman above, lingering long enough to memorize their faces. Some shifted uncomfortably; most, hardened soldiers that they were, met her with blank expressions. When she'd gone down the line she continued, her voice projecting in grand style. "I am not your Lady, but I am close to your Lord. I know him to be a respectful man; would discipline follow, if I inquired after your lack?" Shared glances between the men gave her her answer. A cat with a canary could not have looked more predatory than she.
She let the threat hang and gave Captain Uleus her full attention once more. "I was making for the capital next anyway." Jocelin turned her back on the Captain, returning to the carriage. But she didn't leave immediately; she stood on the lowered step and held onto the open door with one hand, fishing around on the seats with the other. The golden lady returned to the captain with two velvet-wrapped bundles, both awkward in their size and shape. "Will you send one of your men to deliver these to his lordship's sons?" Her tone made it less of a request than a command.
-
I was challenged by Jocelin's player (indirectly perhaps) to write based entirely on NPC's. Me being me, challenge accepted. Here's the result. Hope you like it.
The Uleus Package
A white anger radiated from the golden lady. Captain Uleus stood rooted to the ground and kept a brave face like he had done in the battle-line against the Fissoans last year. This was a different terror however and he weathered it badly. He stole a breath when Jocelin turned her attention to the crossbowmen atop the gatehouse but soon saw her words directed at him again.
But first she turned her back on the Captain, returning to the carriage. She stood on the lowered step and held onto the open door with one hand, fishing around on the seats with the other. The golden lady returned to the captain with two velvet-wrapped bundles, both awkward in their size and shape. "Will you send one of your men to deliver these to his lordship's sons?" Her tone made it less of a request than a command.
Elues's eye widened as he scrambled for a response. ''Yes, my Lady! Of course, I will see to it at once.'' His tone a lot more submissive and quite formal where before one might've detected light mockery. As he accepted the velvet-wrapped packages he cast a glance to his men on the gate that said: Don't you dare say a word to anyone about this! Of course half the garrison would know come dawn.
As the carriage with the golden lady in it departed it was eerily quiet for half a dozen heartbeats but then the gatehouse roared with laughter at their humbled captain. Eleus shouted at them to be quiet but it only got him ridicule. ''Why don't you deliver those package Eul!'' and so, eventually, he did. Day may have been fading but the big city never slept. Its streets now open air taverns and the boulevards became nighttime gardens for the commoners. Captain Eleus grumbled as he made his way through them and wished he could partake, he knew his men were.
After a journey that seemed to take an age he arrived at the steps of the Golden Palace of Giask in full dark. When the sun went down, it went fast. Torches lined the entrance to the prestigious complex and of course he didn't even contemplate to use the main entrance. That was only for Nobles. One of the Side Gates was his point of entry but the scrutiny was no less perhaps even more so because they could toy with him. 6 or so Chosen Guards of the Golden Palace barred his way and questioned him about his business. He received mockery for his claims but the proof was right there in his hands, velvet! No way that a captain could afford one, let alone two such lengths of the stuff.
After at least 20 minutes of needless delays was Eleus permitted to hand the packages over to a palace official and to, under guard, accompany it to the Scions of House Renodin. He really had very little choice in the matter so he agreed with bowed head. The packages were carried. one each by a servant and led by the official, a man of small physical stature but he had kind eyes at least, so Eleus decided.
The official took them to one of the west wings of the main palatial structure. Here they entered a room that extended into the garden. It was designed so that it blended with a terrace that in turn bordered a large pond. Beautiful and very Mediterranean. Soft limestone stretched seamlessly from the palace all the way to the water's edge and was richly furnished with reclining chairs and low tables and exotic, potted plants which gave off a fantastic scent. A small birdcage of gilded gold stood near the water's edge and from it 2 nightingales sang. Eleus was dumbstruck by all the wealth so easily on display. The official however took no note of it at all as he went straight to the water's edge. Here a low, round table of dark orange wood was surrounded by Romanesque sofa's. Space for 2 at most per sofa. The setup was completed by a set of large cast iron braziers which were wonderfully created of ''woven'' bars into a bell shape. Lying onto such sofa's and opposite of one another were Aldrakar II and Asher. A bit away sat a hazel eyed girl barely a woman whom's seemed the first to react to the presence of the newcomers.
''Yes Kirian what is it?'' Madelin's voice was soft and melodic yet with an undertone of authority. ''This man is Captain Eleus of the Outer West Gate, Lower City District. He has been instructed by the Lady Jocelin Le Drake to deliver these two package to the Scions of House Renodin.'' Kirian motioned first at Eleus and then at the packages being carried by the two accompanying servants. ''The packages have been checked?'' Her tone bespoke the true question as she was careful of her wards. Kirian nodded. ''Very well, thank you Kirian.'' Madelin gave him the smallest of smiles as she dismissed him and gestured for the 2 servants to approach and present the packages to the boys. Captain Eleus felt a bit lost, but he managed to catch the young woman's eye and understood he was to simply remain where he was, an easy enough task for a soldier.
The servants skillfully knelt down as they presented the velvet wrapped packages, themselves as unaware of its content as the boys were. Asher was the first to dig in and tore at the fabric. Ripping to bits a year's worth of wage for a fisherman in but moments as he amply employed a fork had previously been using to snatch boiled fruits from a small cup. Aldrakar II however attempted to carefully unwrap whatever was inside and took a great deal longer naturally. Whatever was inside however, it was sure to surprise and delight them, at least, so they both hoped.
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And of course did the Player of Jocelin Le Drake deliver! and in what a magnificent way I must add. Enjoy!
Player of Jocelin Le Drake:
Jocelin had known exactly where to go in Sulorte for gifts for the boys. First, she'd sent a servant to the very same artisan who'd designed the tack for her horse, the silver-gilded saddle that had been stolen from the stable of an inn she'd once stayed in. The white leather had been interesting to watch her servants maintain, though of course she'd never touched it herself. The bundle meant for Asher was no saddle, but as he tore it open the velvet fell away to reveal a soft brown bridle set with garnets. It lay across a thick book of different riding styles, annotated for easier reading by a young reader in her own hand. Jocelin knew only a little herself, but that hadn't meant she couldn't sit down with an experienced rider and dictate what he said.
The third item in Asher's gift was hidden in a soft leather pouch with a red drawstring. When Asher loosened it and emptied the bag into his palm a trio of small wooden horses spilled out. The first two landed in his small hand; the third bounced off his fingers and clattered on the floor. He picked it up by its front legs and showed it to his brother, "Look Aldrakar! It's Nibbles!"
Aldrakar only glanced up, intent on his own present. The untorn wrapping finally fell away to reveal a wooden buckler painted with his family's heraldic device. It was not meant for his hand but for his forearm, meaning the young swordsman could wear it regardless if he was using a one-handed or two-handed practice sword. And another book, this time more ancient than his brother's, was a biography of master swordsmen from across Dwilight. There was also a bag of candied grapes from some vineyard or another in Sulorte, though a tag instructed him to share them with Asher. Aldrakar II's eyes lit up.
----
Jocelin reached the docks by nightfall... but encountered a problem.
"Do you know who I am?" She demanded, furious still from her encounter at the gatehouse. The man she spoke to was captain of a vessel bound for Askileon. Dark eyes watched her outburst from a face worn with wrinkles, their perpetual squinting a legacy from years of sun-kissed waters and cloudless days. His hair was thick and ropy; his clothes a collection of salt-rotted silks and brass medallions. She'd have chosen another vessel if there'd been one (or at least someone who didn't smell like he'd napped in the bilge) but there hadn't been. Not at this hour.
He had the good presence of mind not to spit in front of her through his rotted teeth, though she could see the ripple in his neck as he fought the urge. The captain bowed low, his tone mocking, "I know who ye are, m'lady: penniless. I don't take passengers who can't show me gold."
Jocelin's glare could put Captain Uleus in his place, but this man simply smiled, his polite expression bordering on insolence. If he hadn't been right the fair lady might have contested him; instead she stared him down for one long, cold minute before turning away. Humiliation made her walk just a little faster off the dock where his Victory's Slit was tied. Behind her came a tsk and a splat of something wet slapping on the water.
Her bonds from D'Hara had become worthless since coming to Luria Nova, and against all common sense she'd used the last of her gold on gifts for the boys. It also seemed that --though nothing could get her to admit it aloud-- there was a very likely chance that her visit to Sulorte had not been for nostalgia's sake.
With the infuriating captain out of earshot her gaze returned to the moonlit sea, where she imagined Aldrakar getting further and further away. He was off to face the D'Harans in battle... and she hadn't been able to see him before he left. She hated herself for it: she wanted no more bloodshed, but if someone had to bleed it couldn't be him. There were reasonable reasons for her concern... though none that she wanted to admit aloud.
He'll be okay, Jocelin reassured herself. Aldrakar was not Erasmus: he was a skilled swordsman, and it wasn't like there was going to be a duel to the death on the field. And while it irritated her that she couldn't follow him across the bay, she had to trust that he'd be alright. By that thinking she could now focus on her duties elsewhere.
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Evening! Morning! Good afternoon perhaps. Whichever it is you elected to be your past time reading moment, Look here.. I've got a little treat for you. Aldrakar sitting about reminiscing old times. That and other stuff of course, go ahead and find you. We both know you want to.
The Dews
It still looked the same. Yesterday they rode along the coast and visited some 3 villages along the way. The houses were still build of good timber and the roofs still sported clay tiles. Tiles were expensive Aldrakar had learned but not here, not in the Dews. Prosperity favored these peoples. They lived in communities nestled atop or between large hills and the land was good to them. It was fertile land, good for cattle and good for crops. The ocean brought a veritable bounty in fish and kelp. Kelp tasted horrible Aldrakar thought but it was good grub for the peasants and soldiers. How he had risen since the days of his beginnings here.
Resplendent in a full field-plate armor of pristine quality with sheets of exquisite steel layered one atop and over the other. Spaulders engraved with his dynastic iconography and draped in snow white fur. His vambraces felt like the wristbands of heroes and his polished sabatons were worked into unforgiving grey walls. Engraved with intricate patterns of great carps swimming up a steel waterfall that reached just over his knees. Gently fluttering from his back was a thick cotton and leather cape of rich brown that knew a border of heavy gold thread and was clasped at his shoulders with round deflectors of steel worked with gold. A plated belt circumvented his girth and from it a scabbard hung, displaying an impressive, rose topaz pommeled sword. His helm was still attached to his saddle and the horse not far away, being held by Marc, a young squire.
How he had risen indeed since he had started out a Knight of Mattan Dews. Aldrakar stood atop a low hill, barely a man's height that was cut in twine by a little winding road that led to the entrance of this particular village. It bore no other name than Cale, the village of Cale. It was typical, snug and produced a lot of carrots. Aldrakar watched as his men and those of other Nobles were finishing the repacking of gear or actually already setting out, back to Ciarin Tut. The command had been given Not to Provoke an attack and the men were giving way to the League's Host. A few men botched a crate as they tried to tie it to a donkey. The poor beast balked and the crate shattered on the ground as it fell. Spilling the content of a good dozen bottles of wine. The soldiers cursed the creature but it really had been their fault.
Aldrakar motioned with his steel hand towards the small group and one of his chosen men-at-arms strode towards them and sorted them out. He thought back on days long past. Seoras, do you ever think back of the time we spend here? Fighting beasts and returning home to Prince Hendrick's estate, covered in mud and full of grand stories. A smile banished the hard look that had claimed his features before as the thoughts came to him. You better! Because I do.
The horse whinnied, it thumped the grass impatiently with his hoof. Aldrakar turned his head to the beautiful beast. ''Easy Bescus, peace.'' His voice smooth and soothing. The ground gave a small bit of way as he walked over to Bescus. The wind provided a gust and in that moment Aldrakar pulled himself up into the saddle.. with help from Marc. Bescus was a tall horse, a proper warhorse. Strong and fierce and trained to kick and bite and turn on the spot. In full armor it was virtually impossible to get up alone and Aldrakar prided himself that he had never needed a crane to be hoisted into the saddle. The day he needed that would be the day he stopped being a horseman he vowed. That or adopting lighter armor, probably the latter.
The familiar feel of the reins in his hand and feeling the power of the animal between his thighs made Aldrakar laugh out loud. Marc smiled a surprised smile, it was good to see his Liege happy. ''Marc, round up the stragglers and head for the regional capital of Hawk's Nest in Ciarin Tut. I fancy a bit of a ride.'' He grinned at Marc and the young man beamed. ''Yes Sire!'' At that Aldrakar gave a cheerful warcry and let fly the reins of Bescus. ''Ride! For the terrible dawn we meet with happy heart!'' Clods of dirt topped with grass flew up into the air as the Lord of Giask powered past the trains of marching soldiers. His golden hair spilling behind him and whipping about like a very short banner. From the flanks of the train and emptying encampments other riders joined him. Lesser Knights from Giask, Men-at-Arms and perhaps other High Nobles.
So Aldrakar made his way to Ciarin Tut in a very reckless but very fun fashion. His Stable-master would probably curse him for riding on his warhorse outside of combat but he didn't care.
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Evening! Just a little snack, that's all. Can't be bad its just a little snack right?... Right? Go on.. indulge yourself. read on.
Dark wind and Clear skies
The hubbub of a hundred patrons provided a merry and companionable setting as Aldrakar enjoyed a goblet of deep red wine. A fire lazily consumed a collection of hardwood blocks in the near black sandstone hearth. The wood crinkled under the incendiary touch and heat radiated into the large room. It did so with cozy noises and the occasional soft pang as air escaped the pressure of the wood. It was one of the better Inns in Askileon.
In his hand Aldrakar held a small bit of parchment, his eyes had roamed it many times already this day. The day had been long and his men lounged about when the smithies were busy restoring their gear. His eyes danced in the firelight and his wine stained lips formed a never ending smile. At his feet lay an ivory coated Labrador, a breed of dog. Its dark eyes steady on Aldrakar's other hand as he played with a bit of meat that he had intended to eat himself but as he caught the look of the loyal and patient dog he changed his mind.
''Its your lucky night, here you go.'' And with that he throw the morsel to the dog whom expertly caught it in its maw, also expertly ignoring Aldrakar's words at that.
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Got something dark for you today. Its perhaps a grave situation but still, its pretty grim if you ask me. Decide for yourself and hopefully.. enjoy!
The Last Day of Autumn
The day was fleeting. The sun cast long shadows across the land and a cold wind reigned in the streets of Askileon. Near the Palace Hill at the main square a big crowd was gathered. They braved the weather, they braved the cold and they cheered the justice to be exacted upon one of their betters. The main square was a big place with its huge slabs of solid rock, arches but for this occasion it seemed small. At the north side of the square, where it faced the stars if there hadn't been any clouds, a channel ran along it. One of the main waterways for the Silver city. On the central bridge, the largest and most decorated one, stood a wooden construction.
Erected there and subsequently blocking passage over the main bridge stood the execution pavilion. There was no gallows, there was no chopping block but neither was there a breaking wheel or any such. There was a rope.
Part of the pavilion was designed to be a small tribune where officials of the Judicial body sat. Grey haired men in resplendent robes and with much fine jewelry. Their faces all frowns and disdain. Some even wore Galero's or other fancy headpieces. In their middle sat a youth, nay, a man looking young by comparison. A blond haired man with the distinguished build of a warrior but dressed in the official clothes of the office of the Imperial Magistrate. Full ornate.
The crowd of commoners growled, leered as their patience was running thin and who could blame them it was dreadful weather. Thin droplets of rain started to cascade from the heavens. Woven into fine sheets of water as it washed over them. The grey and white bridge shone wet. A company of guards in black and gold uniform over armor escorted a double donkey drawn cart. Affixed to an upright beam in the cart was a man. His hair a mess, his face angry, sad and defiant. He was no commoner and they all knew it. They knew it for his fancy clothes, now stained. They knew it for his arrogant posture, a feat indeed in his condition. They knew it, for they knew his name.
The Magisterial Guards were strong and they forced the Noble from the cart with little mercy. Jeers erupted from the angry crowds and with it came rotten vegetables, eggs, turds and small stones. The guards ignored it, the Noble was targeted. He looked clean by comparison from the time the cart arrived and when the Noble was on the Pavilion on the main bridge.
The Imperial Magistrate beheld the Noble being presented by the Guards. They made him face the tribune and held him upright. Rain poured down upon his naked face, his wet hair clinging to his chin. ''Sir Ushio of House Puff!'' Aldrakar's Voice Boomed from the Tribune. ''These are the Crimes you have been found guilty off!'' The crowd's insanity and rage achieved a new crescendo. '' ...and High Treason!'' where the last words that were audible from Aldrakar's mouth.
Aldrakar stood up from his seat. The canvas over the tribune shielding him from the rain and elements but the wind rebelled and tugged fiercely on it. He raised an arm and pointed with a gloved black hand at Ushio. ''You are hereby sentenced to Death. Hung from the neck until dead.'' With that he sat down again. His face so hard it could have been chiseled from granite.
Ushio struggled for a moment as the Magisterial Guards put their hands on him. He wasn't strong enough and they outnumbered him. Some in crowd yelled their approval, their hate, they gave voice to their struggle that was know as inequality and vented it onto the Sentenced Noble. A thick rope was force over Ushio's neck, he avoided it twice through agility but 2 hard punches to his gut saw his efforts in vain. They ushered him to the edge of the Main bridge and halted.
The Guards looked to the Imperial Magistrate for confirmation. Aldrakar gave a solemn nod, his face dark. The guards pushed Ushio off the bridge. One of the guards grinned and his white teeth were wicked in the dim light of dusk. The crowd moved, it ceased its noise. A gurgle seemed to cut over the entire square. The body gave a series of spasms. Rain lapped Ushio's body. The rope stood suddenly taut and Ushio moved no more, save for a gentle sway that slowly ceased.
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Mornin', just a little descriptive Rp of Aldrakar arriving at the City of Giask. I feel that these kinds of Rp's really help other players get a feel for the game, the atmosphere and the general scene of things. I try to encourage by example and some pick up on it. When they do I usually try to tell myself I helped a tiny wee bit with that. Which is hubris hehe.
The Cold Sea
Turquoise was the ocean, it was this color only at the shore usually but seasoned fishermen knew that you could find more such azure spots further out. In truth, wherever the sea was shallow you could find this shade of ocean. Where the white sands or rock reflected the light of the sun through a thin layer of clear water. It is a beautiful thing to see but as any seaman worth his salt knows, its a dangerous beauty.
The ship cut through the small waves with ease. the sails stood taut and Aldrakar was at the prow. His hands nestled in gloves made of supple, brown leather. His fingers gripped the railing as he looked at the City of Giask. It wouldn't be long before they would start mooring the ship. Sailors were already preparing the pegs for ropes, unfastening poles, sails prepared for stowing and canvas hauled from storage. He gave them a passing glance but his mind didn't linger on their activity. That morning a bird had found them and brought a worrisome report. A Lurian army suffered a defeat in the lands of the Morek Empire. A sickly smile appeared on his lips briefly. And here I am traveling from one big city to another. Dishing out justice. The thoughts sounded bitter to himself and he was glad for the bit of solitude he found at the front of the ship.
The Grand harbor stretched out before them, it engulfed their now tiny ship. The arms of the hundreds of cranes worked the vessels within their reach. Despite it being winter, the merchants and ferries continued to brave the waters of the Euschean sea. A special dock was reserved for the Lord of Giask. A beautiful, fortified piece. Here Aldrakar disembarked, over a hundred Armored Skirmishers were disgorged with him and they stood tall. Proud to be back in the City of their Lord. A small crowd of commoners had gathered to witness the event. Some cheered, some yelled but overall their mood was positive, even on a cold day such as this.
Aldrakar raised a hand in greeting to them. His oak brown cape spilled behind him and revealed his suit of clothes in military fashion. Very fine but also hinting strongly at his martial intentions. He briskly passed the crowd, his captain organizing a guard to accompany him. Before he could mount a horse however Aldrakar was waylaid by a cluster of officials. They are more adept at this than seasoned campaigners! He sighed and relented.
The officials reported substantial improvements in the city's inner workings. Commercial disputes settled, trade lanes reopened, Grain shipments distributed effectively, legal matters resolved. It peaked Aldrakar's interest. The cold wind competed for his attention and nearly won. He tugged his cape more tightly around his body as he drank in the reports standing beside readied horses. Bescus pawed the pavement with his hoof, he didn't like waiting. Imperious Horse.
His eyes and the words of the officials taught him that Jocelin was to thank for this. She was in the City? He grinned and wrapped the reports together hastily. He pushed them back into the hands of the nearest official. ''Good work! Make sure she isn't hindered in any way!'' A fierce smile conquered his face as he accepted the challenge of the biting wind and faced it head on. His golden hair akin to the waves of the ocean and he rode.
Headed for the Golden Palace, his home, his sons and perhaps a lovely woman? He let Bescun gallop to his heart's content, much to the dismay of roadside merchants and their stalls all along the main boulevard. Some of the younger generation cheered their Lord as he rode through the streets so brazenly and called out his name.
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Hey there! The Jocelin / Aldrakar Saga continues! I'll be posting a string of Rp's written by my hand but also by the Player of Jocelin Le Drake. She is in all ways a beautiful and skilled writer. I often marvel at her ability to characterize and convey meaning. Anyhow.. Here they are, enjoy!
From the Palace to the Office - Aldrakar
Cold winds urge him on. Bescus grunted and powered through the broad boulevards. The large horse reluctantly halted at the grand entrance to the Golden Palace. A veritable procession of servants streamed from the sides, main stairs and stables to attend to their Lord. Huge tropical gardens stretched left and right of the imposing entrance, dotted among the flora large fire-pots burned low. Buried in the soil and ensured the more delicate plants could endure the colder days of the already mild winter. It also added a fanciful glow to the entire place.
Still mounted Aldrakar called out to a meticulously dressed young man. Exceptional blue silks and fine cream white cotton. His hands decorated with at least 3 rings of precious metals with even more precious gems set in them. ''Is she at the Palace Jalen?!'' Bescus raised himself up on his hind-legs and when he came down on all four again his front hooves clashed mightily with the rock below.
Jalen manouvered away from the great horse and addressed his Lord. ''No, she is not, master. She was here though and she..'' He was cut off by the combined yelling of Asher and Aldrakar II as they rushed down the steps towards their father. ''Boys!'' Aldrakar called out to them in good cheer and he dismounted, not wanting Bescus to harm them. The boys crashed into him as he lowered himself and scooped them up, one on each arm. Their voices a riot and the servants tending to the horse, bringing refreshments and also the ever daring yet reluctant officials with their reports, standing close by.
Jalen was the first of the servants to attempt to intercede ''Master Aldrakar? The Lady Jocelin was last seen leaving the Palatial grounds somewhere this afternoon.'' This got Aldrakar's attention. ''She has been tending to the City one could say.'' Jalen's voice became slightly teasing as he knew he was building up suspense. ''Out with it man! Where is she?'' Aldrakar's voice forceful but also full of joy. ''The main taxation office I believe, that is.. if I've got my information right.'' Jalen always had his information right, it was more kind and subtle mockery. Aldrakar did not mind it and had a retort most fitting. ''Boy's! This man is a danger to the City! We must defeat him! Go! get him! Rwaarrr!'' He unleashed both his progeny upon the young official and poor Jalen didn't stand a chance.
Content knowing Jalen got what he deserved at the hands of two young Noble boys he gestured for Bescus before a servant led him away towards the stables. Glancing back he saw how Jalen gave in and fell to the floor in good humor. His cloths ruined but all three of them laughing. It was good to teach the boys about the bonds people share and also good for the servants to know that they were all people first and foremost. Bescus however didn't like the noise and his ears showed it. ''Alright, off we are then, you grump.'' Aldrakar told the Horse and indeed, they were off.
Night was falling and as one might expect from a metropolitan city, it bustled day and night. Candles, braziers and torches illuminated the vast city. Music rang in the squares and laughter burst from every tavern door. The grain ships were being unloaded and the endless stream of carts filled the streets leading up the granaries. An undertaking that was impossible during day when those very streets were filled with people.
With just 4 guards, all fresh recruits from the newly inaugurated Heavy Cavalry training center did Aldrakar arrive at the Taxation office. The place was walled, it had its own guards and looked rather beautiful actually. Good stone, fine plants and designed to last in case of an assault. The small gates swung open as the men on duty recognized the man that approached and Aldrakar rode into the small courtyard with gusto. Here he brought the mighty horse to a standstill and leapt with fresh energy from him.
His hands working to un-glove them and his eyes searching.
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Jocelin
The sound of the gate opening without caught Jocelin's attention. Heavy armor crashed against itself, and the cloudy glass window did little to suppress the sound of hoof boots clattering in the cobbled yard. A cacophony of unidentifiable noises followed; her imagination marked it as either armored bodies dismounting or a multitude of pots and pans raining from the sky. Whatever it was, she sat back and stretched at her desk, her joints cracking audibly from long hours of sitting still. Willing her suspicion as to the source of this noise to be true, Jocelin marked the pages she was on and stepped to the window, half-intending to return to the office after. The warped glass distorted her view of who had arrived; Jocelin pulled it up and leaned out, shivering as she did against the worsening winter weather. Torches had been lit around the building, and there was no mistaking the man who dismounted in the torchlight.
"Aldrakar?"
The excitement in her tone was undeniable, and even Jocelin didn't try to hide it. As quickly as she'd arrived at the window she was gone, leaving it open behind her. She gathered her skirts and descended the stairs two at a time, propriety forgotten. At the bottom her fine slippers (as tall as she was, there was never a reason for lifts) caught the edge of her skirt; she tripped down the last two steps, not falling but instead hurtling herself against the wall opposite the staircase. A clerk stared at her from the far end of the narrow hallway, perhaps having forgotten that she was even in the building and wondering why a noble lady was throwing herself down the stairs. Jocelin groaned and pushed herself off, gingerly working the wrist she'd caught herself with. And so Aldrakar would find her: bruised, bespectacled and sore, but otherwise undamaged.
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You shall.. Kinda pass - Aldrakar
He walked several steps in the courtyard, taking in the place. It was made of whitewashed rock walls. Good oaken doors promised a hard time getting though them without a key and the small watchtower build into the border of the enclosing wall gave it a wee bit of a militaristic aroma. Leather boots sounded against the cobble and behind him Bescus asserted his dominance over the other horses by snorting heavily and shaking his massive head. The horses of the 4 heavy cavalry men were quick to challenge and quick to realize that they were outmatched by the towering beast that was Bescus.
Aldrakar was tucking his leather gloves in his belt when his ears registered a strange noise coming from somewhere inside the taxation building. The front door opened and from it an older man emerged in good clothing with a stern face. He bowed and before he could utter his name and rank Aldrakar was upon him. ''I'm looking for the Lady Jocelin, have you seen her?'' The man faced down the fountain of vitality that was Aldrakar and replied calmly. ''But of course Lord. She's been here most of the day.'' He faltered for a moment when Aldrakar made to move but didn't. ''Would it please the Lord to see our records?'' The man brought it very convincingly. His eyes soft and his lips almost pleading. A natural born negotiator. Aldrakar squinted his eyes almost instantly. ''I did not come here to review your ledgers. They should be in order and if they ain't the clerks at the Palace will find out. You know this.'' Aldrakar subconsciously tried to peer over the smaller man's shoulder. The older man made himself big in response and tried to fill the space that was the doorway.
After an awkward half a dozen heartbeats Aldrakar stared the older man down. Realizing he was trying to keep him out. ''What's going on? Stand aside.'' His tone light but hardening. The senior clerk winched and made a pained expression. ''Just a moment longer your Lordship.'' Aldrakar pushed past him, knocking the smaller man aside. 2 of the now dismounted heavy cavalrymen quick to follow their Lord.
Exploring the interior of the Tax Office Aldrakar spotted several clerks working overtime, good furniture, heaps and heaps of scrolls and ledgers and Jocelin. Getting up from the base of the staircase. His eye first traveling up said stairs but found no perpetrator. He moved to help her get up. ''Jocelin.'' Are you alright? the words unspoken but definitely expressed.
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Jocelin
Jocelin was no worse for the wear, though perhaps bruised beneath her gown. She shot a scathing look at the clerks and --seeing that they were pointedly trying to avoid her gaze-- stood taller, satisfied. It was only when she heard her name that she remembered just why she'd come sprinting down the steps. Her eyes found those of the man who'd helped her up. I missed you. She never uttered it for fear of coming off too strong, but her smile said as much. There was a hyper-awareness in her of everything about him that had sent her rushing out the door.
Still...
As always, the presence of others and her own sense of propriety made her wall herself off. Jocelin tamed her expression and looked him over, her happiness bubbling just below the surface. "Are you well?" I heard about the execution. She studied his face for signs that everything was right with his world, her golden eyes as piercing as they were when studying documents. Over his shoulder the man who'd stopped Aldrakar at the door hovered; Jocelin fixed him with that stare. He lingered a moment and then beckoned to the others to clear the room. Not a minute later they were alone.
"I've kept myself busy."
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The Answers - Aldrakar
"I've kept myself busy." Her voice level, modest but he believed he also heard that untamed laughter that had become such an embedded memory since her tumble in the palatial gardens of Giask. As she recovered and realized her purpose and then in quick succession realized the presence of other Aldrakar had already blocked them out. He was never a hiding man, not emotionally nor physically or even spiritually however the latter was most definitively the most secluded of the three.
''How I've been?'' His voice direct, it trailed and didn't stop making sound after the final word. His mind working the possible answers. He didn't like a good deal of the options available. His gaze belied some of those thoughts and he didn't try to hide the feelings that must show when the nastier events passed his mind's eye. ''I've been in suspense.'' He studied her face. ''What did Glaumring tell you? Did you get the answers your were looking for? The first thing I got from you is a short letter and it was only one small letter!'' He couldn't help himself smiling. ''I've send at last two dozen!'' Easily overstating the fact but acting dramatic. ''I could've broken my wrist you know.'' His lips covered his white teeth again but a smile remained and his hand sought to hold hers.
''So, what did you learn? and don't tell me the exact number of trade ship captains that haven't payed the proper amounts of tariffs or some such!'' His eyes smiled more than anything else but they didn't entirely linger on Jocelin though. His mind directed them to study the stair case also. ''Must be either really good news or really bad, if you were in such a rush to tell me.'' He looked owlish at her. ''Or am I simply -That- stunning? No idle flattery now, give me the truth.''
-
Jocelin
"I never saw Glaumring." She'd tried, but business and other distractions had kept them apart. Now he was miles beyond her reach. "But I saw another. An acolyte at the temple pointed the way." A large donation was... not owed, but earned, and she would give it gladly. As he chastised her a smile grew on Jocelin's face, for she knew it to be in jest. Even his pointed glance at the staircase wasn't enough to shame her.
An idea occurred to the normally severe noblewoman, and she smirked. For someone so forthright as Aldrakar the following silence must be maddening... or so she hoped. Would a little more suspense be unwelcome? The hand that sought hers was instead caught, and she turned it delicately between her two hands so that his palm faced the ceiling. Jocelin tsked, her thumbs deliberately massaging the inside of his wrist in slow, deliberate circles. She turned it this way and that, feigning intense study. "I'm sorry to have caused you any discomfort." Her fingers laced themselves through his. The color rose in her cheeks, and she became acutely aware of voices elsewhere in the building. But they themselves were still alone, and she silenced any other doubts Aldrakar might have with a kiss. Her lips first found the corner of his mouth with a chasteness befitting a noble lady; the one that followed was properly improper as she opened her mouth against his, her free hand rising between them to rest along his stubbled jaw.
-
First Admission - Aldrakar
Jocelin held his hand, she massaged it gently. "I'm sorry to have caused you any discomfort." Time seemed to stretch but Aldrakar would purr like a big cat if only he could. At the same time would he impatiently whip his tail from left to right with the same metaphor in mind. Her fingers laced with his. He looked at her and saw the color of cherries form perfect moons on her cheeks. His lips parted to speak but the intake of breath he was unable to use for words where her lips met his. She remained a tease in his mind. First the corner of his mouth and he didn't move, then she truly kissed him. Her hand on his jaw and he leaned forwards, his hands roving from her sides over her back and pulled her close.
After a long series of moments he disengaged from her but was possessive enough to hold her in a loose embrace. Allowing her to lean back slightly as he held her waist with extended arms. ''I must be -That- stunning.'' He laughed aloud but soon focused his attention back on her. ''Whatever this is, it must be good.'' He let go of her and moved towards the exist of the taxation office. ''Let's go, I think we've worked hard enough for one day.'' He looked up through one of the windows. One hand working the door, the other extended towards Jocelin. ''Ever rode a warhorse?'' His faced betrayed his skeptical thoughts.
-
Jocelin
His roving hands left trails of fire in their wake. A completely unladylike sound escaped her, small but clearly audible. When Aldrakar broke the kiss she reeled and would have stumbled had he still not held her. "I must be --that-- stunning." A dumbfounded nod was the only way she could respond.
Aldrakar released her. Jocelin missed his warmth immediately and remained close as she accompanied him to the door. Outside the weather was growing still worse with the coming of night, and she steeled herself against the cold. A strong wind drove flecks of icy rain sideways into them, but it'd not yet started raining in earnest. The horses of the heavy cavalry who'd accompanied Aldrakar had lowered their heads against the wind. Bescus was still where his rider had left him, his head unbent, a breath of irritation escaping his flared nostrils that the wind dare try to force him to submit. He fixed his master and the woman behind him with a fierce eye. Jocelin met it nervously.
"When I was little I wanted to be a mounted knight. Then father's horse got a bite of my brother, and I've... do I really have to?" She said half-jokingly, still buoyed by what had happened between them inside the building. But already --even on a windy evening with only a handful of his men to witness it-- her public face had returned. Jocelin trailed closely behind... though of course always kept Aldrakar between herself and Bescus.
-
A Moment's Quiet - Aldrakar
The sky overhead was dark with clouds and they in turn brought down upon the world below a steady downpour of iced rain. Wind played with the flecks and made it rattle of windows and walls alike. Aldrakar arched an eyebrow at Jocelin's admission at always wanting to be a mounted Knight when she was younger. He pulled his heavy, oak brown cape closer to his body and beckoned Bescus over with a click of his tongue. The beast turned its head instantly and moved towards Aldrakar. Steam rolling off his flanks as he moved.
He put on his gloves and gestured Jocelin to come closer. He helped her into the saddle and mounted after her. ''Two of you ride on ahead and the other ride behind. Take some distance.'' He directed the Heavy Cavalry. They saluted and rode off as instructed. Aldrakar gingerly maneuvered the reins as he allowed Jocelin some time to settle in front of him. Bescus gave no notice of the added weight, instead he shivered with anticipation. He always wanted to move. His big black eyes looking at the little gate of the Taxation office and the street that lay beyond.
Aldrakar draped his cape so that it covered both of them as a big blanket. The embroidery decorating jocelin's shoulders as they draped her. His arms over hers and his hands closed around the reins. He gave a gentle tug which brought Bescus into motion. the Muscles of the big horse working under dark skin. So they rode through the music filled night.
Arriving at the Golden Palace Aldrakar didn't want all the servants to come out again. Instead he rode right up the steps to the entrance and helped Jocelin dismount. The Palace was quiet this far into the night. It was sparingly lit and many of its hallways were silent. Guards still patrolled and some servants still preformed their duties whatever they may be of course. Bescus was led away by a stable boy, a poor word for the 20 summers or so man.
Walking through the Palace Aldrakar enjoyed the quiet, the privacy that was lost so often to him. Grinning more often than not when their eyes met. ''I'm not sure what that acolyte said but whatever it was I'm glad he did.'' They arrived at the Family wing. The sunset engraving in orange streaked marble still where it was last time they entered through it together. Aldrakar peered around just to confirm his suspicions. Both boys were fast asleep in their rooms. They were alone. ''Best be quiet, they're both asleep.'' He motioned to an area that led away from the bedrooms. A space oval in layout and seemed nestled in between other rooms. It had but the one entrance and in its center was a large sand colored fireplace. A fire burned lazily inside, casting shadows playfully around the room. It wasn't such a big place as it was lined with typical large pillows and low tables. Some pots with fragrant plants and from the ceiling several oil lamps hung. Beautiful with opaque glass-work and intricate motifs worked into the body.
Aldrakar walked to a small, build in cabinet. He opened the deep brown with soft orange engraved doors to reveal an array of small food stuffs and various little drinks. He wasn't sure if Jocelin would enter the room or not. Either way, he had the much difficult task of selecting drinks and perhaps a snack. Practicality won, he only had two hands and so decided to simply get two drinks. He selected matching, round glasses with flat, angled bottoms. He poured them both with a local vintage appellation. A very fine, sweet wine. Deep topaz in color, smelled of cinnamon, raisins and black berries perhaps and would definitively taste sweet. He added very little, finely crushed ice as to increase the flavor and then approached Jocelin, holding one glass for her that he hoped she would like.
-
Jocelin
Up until the moment he offered her a drink Jocelin was silent, musing as she often did. She seemed lost in thought until the scent of blackberries and cinnamon reached her nose. A gracious murmur accompanied her outstretched hand as she took the delicate glass and sipped it. In the firelight she looked a mess: her clothes were dry, but her hair was wet and wind torn, almost but not quite unraveled from the intricate bun that had pinned it to the back of her head. She'd gone straight for the fireplace when they arrived and hovered near it still, soaking in the warmth that radiated from the hearth. Her golden gaze was almost reflective in the semi-darkness, like dragon's gold or wolf's eyes.
"I think..." She hesitated, and drank more of the sweet wine to give herself further time to think. A nervous smile broke across her face as she raised it, offering a cheer, "... That this is my favorite vintage yet."
Jocelin set the half-empty glass on the mantle beside her shoulder. The sand-colored stone radiated warmth to her fingertips and palm, and she let it linger there a moment absorb its warmth. It had been years since she left the West, and the deep winters of her childhood were forgotten after so much time in the East. How could it be so cold, even in the heart of the castle?
"I think it's time I sent for Ljúfa."
Taking the initiative once more, Jocelin took his elbow and guided him to a cushioned seat, her drink forgotten over the importance of what she was trying to impart. She sat first on a cushion with a large floral print, with a table by her knees and a flowering plant beside her. Blue-white clusters gave off a crisp scent almost but not quite like apple blossoms; her sleeve brushed one, and flecks of white pollen clung to her deep blue sleeve. The color that had risen in her cheeks after their kiss returned. "Would you let me stay here? Not as I have been, but..." Indefinitely? "The boys love me; they need... I mean, I've never asked how long it's been since--" Mortification that she should bring up their mother, and then doubt. It took only that for Jocelin to realize how little she knew about him: he'd been married before, hadn't he (surely yes, to have had two sons)? Yet he never spoke of her, and who was that woman who was always with them anyway? Glimpses of a caretaker with a noble bearing whose name she'd never learned were all she had to go on. Questions seemed forthcoming from Jocelin, but she never uttered them, and only grew a deeper shade of red. Her hands came up to cover her mouth, creating a phalanx of fingers that prevented her from saying anything more.
-
A Honest Conversation - Aldrakar
"I think it's time I sent for Ljúfa." Jocelin said.
She guided him to a seat and he sat down with obvious relaxation. He leaned into the pillow and knew a moment of wonder as to why she seemed so serious. Hadn't the ice been properly broken yet? He toyed with the idea as he sipped the wine, swirled it in the glass and looked at Jocelin as she seemed to prepare herself for something. Her golden hair almost that of a midnight sun and glittered with the dancing light of the fireplace.
He rolled up his sleeves and kicked off his boots, not wanting to stain the fabric of the pillows but at the same time desired to lounge. A single hand lazily holding on to the spherical glass of wine. He was smiling. Blue-White, tiny flowers were swaying gently as Jocelin moved. Did she sit up? the pillows weren't the most willing seats for that. He smirked but his expression soon turned more serious, yet soft. "Would you let me stay here? Not as I have been, but..." Indefinitely? "The boys love me; they need... I mean, I've never asked how long it's been since--" Her cheeks almost more ablaze than the fireplace, the red easily running down her throat.
Aldrakar inhaled deeply. Part pretending to smell the sweet wine, part the fragrance of the little blue followers but mostly to indicate he was going to saying something grave, something important. ''Yes.'' He waited a moment for her to respond and took a sip of the wine. ''Bring your Daughter.'' He motioned around with the wine glass. ''My home is yours. We know the most important things already. I've never cared for wealth or position. I love you and I know the caliber of your character.'' He shrugged as if those things were the most simple of things.
''I've always wanted a daughter.'' His eyes opened a fraction wider than usual. ''I mean, additionally!'' He chuckled but it faded and he stared into the glass. A muscle in his jaw worked. ''I wasn't there when the boys were born. I was..'' At war. Killing men. Taking lives. Aldrakar glanced at Jocelin but his gaze returned to the glass. He cleared his throat.
Before continuing a hand absentmindedly rose to his face and scratched a certain spot on his right cheekbone. ''Her name was Lucini.'' He looked at Jocelin. ''Lucini of House Talratheon. She had jade green eyes and jet black hair. Pale as virgin marble.'' A small smile lined his lips. ''She was very awkward on a personal level. Couldn't handle social situations at all. Should have seen her in her official position though.'' He moist his lips. ''She.. well..'' He took a moment to deliberately look around the room. ''She was the Lady of Giask. She was the Imperial Concilliator of Queen and later Empress Alice Arundel and also Queen and later Empress Anaris, the Ice Queen of Pian en Luries.'' Draining the last of the wine he put the spherical glass on the low table and resumed his story. ''Lucini was an iron Lady when in public but utterly insecure and awkward in private. People feared her and rightly so! She had Giask lined with gallows and other instruments of justice. She would check on every ship personally if she knew I was supposed to arrive. She was petite very much unlike you. Then again, never worry that I will compare you both. you asked, and I will tell you when you ask. Not after or before.''
Aldrakar leaned back into the huge pillow and dumped one leg haphazzardly where it would, as long as it was suspended off the ground. Arms spread wide he ran a hand through his golden hair. ''I was fighting on the Tomb Islands when she was pregnant. The monster invasion or.. some moment after it actually she gave birth. I had to learn of the event via letter. Before, it was before.'' Aldrakar sought confirmation from Jocelin by looking at her. ''She gave them their names, as I wasn't present. I was married to her by Emperor Seoras's word. It was he who declared it to the D'haran Prime Minister when they sought to marry me to Ellyn.'' He smirked at that memory. ''Anyhow, the girl you see with the boys is the daughter of a local Giaskian Noble family. They serve in my administration and the father did me a service some time ago. He asked if I would see to his eldest daughter's education and I agreed. Her name is Madelin. Quite a proper but soft hearted little thing. You'll like her, I'm sure.''
He rubbed above his right eyebrow. ''You staying here..'' and all that entails. ''My faith is that of the Bloodstars, the old, original version. You are a follower of the Bloodmoon. I don't mind as long as you don't mind.'' His face displayed some mild worry. ''It will be quite serious from the get go. You bring your daughter, she will grow up along side with my sons. In this place. Are you sure that is what you want?''
-
Jocelin
"I love you and I know the caliber of your character." Aldrakar shrugged, but her heart thudded in her ears. She scooted closer to him, studying his face as he traveled back through the years and remembered the woman who'd given him his boys. Even with his reassurances, no woman could ever resist comparing herself to another, and Jocelin was no exception. But she saw not a figure she had to compete with for his affection nor a hole she had to fill, but a stranger, someone who he had loved and lost and accepted the loss of. And for him to say he loved her... Jocelin felt a great weight lifted from her shoulders. The fear that she was encroaching where she shouldn't...
She'd stretched out along the cushions in the opposite direction, her foot knocking the table. At the same time Aldrakar ran a hand through his hair. As he spoke of the war she quietly rolled onto her back and placed her head in his lap. She listened in her usual silence, and nodded wordlessly when he looked at her for approval. It wasn't until he got to the bit about Ellyn that her eyebrows raised in surprise. Rynn tried to marry him and Ellyn?
"You know me," She began slowly, "If I wasn't sure, would I suggest as much?" Jocelin was quiet, letting her words sink in. "I finally got to meet the man I fell in love with. And I've got him here with me, tonight, and he's telling me I can be a part of his life." A sweet smile fell across her lips. With a delicate touch she took his hand and guided it to her mouth, kissing the inside of his palm at the base of his thumb. Her breath was warm up his sleeve, "Moon or Stars or Fruit, I love you, Aldrakar."
-
Joy - Aldrakar
Jocelin maneuvered herself in the comfortable position where she had her head resting on his lap. Looking up she met his eyes and her ankle must certainly hurt from the encounter with the low table that was the enemy of the moment. The memories of the past slowly passed by Aldrakar's mind's eye as he described them to her. A soft pang erupted from the fireplace as a log snapped. "You know me," She began slowly, "If I wasn't sure, would I suggest as much?" Aldrakar smiled at that.
Her other words a mix that could only spell happiness and an uncertain future, the best kind. She kissed the palm of his hand "Moon or Stars or Fruit, I love you, Aldrakar." He guided her face to his and reached down to place a tender kiss upon her lips. His eyes closed and the kiss intended to linger well beyond a fleeting moment. When he broke the kiss he kept his face close to hers, a warm and content expression reaching all the edges of his face. He blinked slowly. He kissed her again, shorter this time and leaned back as their lips parted.
Wordlessly he gathered her close to him where he leaned into the pillows. One of his arms finding its way under hers and around her waist. The other taking a longer route as it encircled her from the other side. A hand seeking to hold one of hers. From outside their little sanctuary a small sound came that soon followed Madelin's face peeking inside. She blushed and fumbled a reply. Aldrakar smiled at her and nodded for her to go and she left them again. Her footfalls nearly inaudible.
''Foxes having nothing on that girl, hearing wise.'' He squeezed Jocelin gently by a way of lending power to his words. The night grew late, the fire low and the moon was already preparing to make room for the sun of a new day. Aldrakar kissed Jocelin behind her left ear. ''Try to rest. You worked so very hard already.'' He moved to the other and did the same. ''There's plenty of time and I won't be going anywhere.'' With that he relaxed his body and enjoyed the moment as it was. Uncomplicated as it probably never again would be.
-
Jocelin
He turned her to putty in his arms, pliant in a way she'd never been before. She curled around him, making herself comfortable as a massive yawn threatened to split her face in two. Aldrakar took advantage of the moment to kiss her; Jocelin nipped his lower lip before giving in again. Her throaty giggle was abruptly cut off as she realized someone had peeked in. Jocelin's head shot up, suddenly alert like a cat caught in the cream.
"Foxes have nothing on that girl, hearing wise." The amusement in his voice told her it could only be one person. She let out a sigh of relief: they might not have had an opportunity to speak yet, but she'd always gotten the impression that Madelin could be discreet. It was less ideal than having had no one walk in on them, but not by much. At least--
Aldrakar's breath against her neck distracted the skittish noblewoman from her thoughts. She turned her face away from him in a wordless offering, but he'd already moved to the other side. "There's plenty of time and I won't be going anywhere." As she was made aware again of the late hour Jocelin yawned, this kne much shorter and less jaw-popping than the first. With those reassurances she curled up and within a minute was asleep, her face buried into the warm dip of his shoulder. And that might have been the end of it if she hadn't been one of those types to move and mutter in her sleep. Ten minutes passed before she shifted her weight, her right arm crossing his body so her head could rest on his stomach. "Tell the fish I'll feed them..."
-
Sleep - Aldrakar
The darkening room slowly turned into a shadow realm where anything was possible and where no nightmares could exist. Jocelin yawned and again. She nestled up close to him and all but rubbed her face against his shoulder as she sought the best place to rest her head. She's so aware of everyone else but no longer of me. I suppose that's trust. And that she's had a lot to fear. Her breathing steadied. Long deep breaths before one could count to sixty. Aldrakar smiled softly and placed a careful kiss onto her hair.
He had a small start when she spoke. ''Fishes...'' the only real word he caught. He frowned, deeper still. Fisher? What is she on about? He tried to extend his arm to one of nearby pillows and build a little barrier around them. He didn't succeed and he had to suppress a chuckle as he looked upon the failure. Jocelin destroyed what he had attempted as she shifted her weight. Her arm spanning over his torso and her face resting on his stomach. Aldrakar leaned back and toyed with her hair, more like stroking it and trying to soothe her through repetitive motions. She was asleep though, or so he surmised. He liked caring though and it brought him peace.
She in turn moved more and uttered more inaudible words. Aldrakar smirked but couldn't evade sleep's reach for very long thereafter. With the fire dying down and the steady cooling driving them closer together it could only be a tangle of two bodies as they would eventually wake up.
-
Getting ready to Ride - Aldrakar
Light was spilling in from the single entrance into the oval room. The fireplace was cold but the room wasn't. It was an interior room of the family wing in the Golden Palace. That meant it had no windows either. A golden wave of light crept across the floor at a crippled snail's pace. It touched a foot, it was a bit hairy. It was Aldrakars. The golden tendrils of light pushed up and warmed his legs, body and then pricked his eyes. He had fallen asleep facing the entrance to the room where Jocelin's face was turned away from it.
Half asleep he blinked, blinked again to get something out of his eye. The light persisted, it was warm and bright. Aldrakar's eye saw deep yellow, pinkish red and crimson veins as he stared at the inside of his eyelid. He groaned softly and edged his eyes open, accepting defeat from sleep. Something heavy was laying on his arm. He tried to move a little but stopped. His eyes fells on Jocelin's sleeping form. One of her arms clutching his and with that, her entire shoulder was pinning said arm. ''Well damn.'' His voice dry. He swallowed. ''I'm trapped.'' He tried to smile but instead looked asian as his eyes weren't used to the light yet.
Moving his body and legs away Aldrakar eased his arm free and hoped the act wouldn't wake Jocelin. His hand was cold due to lack of blood and he massaged it as he leaned down to softly kiss Jocelin on the cheek, just beside and below the eye really. As feeling returned to his hand he deigned to get up from the big pillow. A final glance to check if he would disturb her and he stood up carefully. He stretched and inspected his clothes. Not too shabby. He smelled his shirt, it smelled of her.
He took a few steps towards the exit of the room and turned. Outlined against the morning gold he beheld Jocelin. He grinned and scratched his chin. The nails on his fingertips raking the developing stubble. A lock of his hair fell into his vision as Aldrakar moved to the little cabinet and retrieved a small, skinned pear in sweet liquor. He placed it on a tiny porcelain dish and put it at the edge of the fireplace. He took a moment to angle it so she should see it when he woke. She was still asleep he though after all.
Having prepared his little gift for her he departed the room and went into his own. To get dressed for the day and particularly to meet Lord Ronan at the Heavy Cavalry Menagerie. He dressed himself, no attendants or anything like that. Simple cloths really. Breeches of light brown, near cream. A loose linnen shirt of high quality and a sleeveless jacked over it of near black where it really was brown. Striped it was with gentle caramel lines and he finished his costume with a good belt of strong leather. It was dark, the mechanism of anthracite hued steel and bore an embossing of never-ending vines that reached all the way from end to end.
Aldrakar sat down on the edge of his huge bed to put on his boots and struggled for a good while. His shoulder length golden hair not making it any easier as it fell where it would, forcing him to pause and push it all back. Having managed that feat he walked over to the armoire and retrieved a sword-belt. Taking a moment selecting a sword he went with a fluent saber with a dark ruby handle, also curved. The blade was almost leaf shaped and its gentle curve meant devastating cutting or chopping power.
Content with his attire Aldrakar checked his family ring. It was still where it was supposed to be. Around his finger and on his right hand. He moved swiftly now to the bedchambers of his sons and checked in on them. They were fast asleep. Asher had turned 180 degrees, again. Feet where his head should be and his head where his feet should be. Aldrakar II looked proper. Clutching a small green pillow like some ancient treasure he slept tranquilly. Aldrakar smiled and moved on.
Down the steps outside of the family wing and past a dozen halls and chambers. Servants bowed, greeted him and wished him well. Several Knights saluted and an old grizzled man in spartan military dress called him ''Mornin' boy!'' and Aldrakar grinned at him. A whirl of activity he passed as he arrived at the administrative heart of the Palace. Scribes and officials everywhere. They seemed to record all the happenings of the world and more. Not a duck was born without their notice, or so it seemed.
Aldrakar moved on and went down further flights of stairs. He made his way to and past training courts. Those were the ones inside the Palace. White marble, Lapis lazuli inlaid walls. Frescoes of stances and guards, and more. Mirror polished floors and vaulted ceilings. Masters teaching pupils and dozens of young men aspiring to absorb the lessons taught. Aldrakar commented on one or two but only hastily. They all smiled at him and knew him to be honest and of good cheer.
Finally, when his feet were starting to protest. He arrived at the formerly, Royal Stables. It wasn't a stable by any standard. It was magnificent, huge and lavish. A hard faced man just slightly shorter than Aldrakar greeted him with Lordship. It was the Hunt's Master. A man renowned for his knowledge of beasts and how to train them or rather, catch them. He shared a meal with Aldrakar and informed his Lord of the latest happenings revolving local hunts the Nobility had organized and how man pheasants were caught and by whom. The same for boars and foxes. Aldrakar grunted often and devoured the meaty stew.
Feeling invigorated by the soldiers meal Aldrakar moved to the cot that held Bescus. The mighty horse wasn't there though. The Hunt's Master chuckled ''Check outside m'Lordship.'' Indeed, there he was. Bescus was receiving exercise in the pen. The Beast shone in the dawn light. His black coat and manes like the most precious sable gold. The attendants prepared the great horse for Aldrakar and soon rider and steed were off. Off to meet the Charger, the Horse Lord, The Rider of Luria, The Charge, The first and only, The deliverer of Hoofed Death. Lord Ronan The Charger, Prince of Sky Hall.
Aldrakar rode towards the Heavy Cavalry Menagerie and hoped to see his friend there. He wasn't sure at any rate but he hoped and knew his brother's heart. It lay with horse!
-
Jocelin (uber rp)
Her dreams had only grown more vivid in the years since joining the Cult. Jocelin had incredibly strong visions (disbelievers would call them hallucinations) when she imbibed the nectar of the Sacred Fruit, but even without there was an element of terrifying realism to her sleeping hours. It was her misfortune that as morning came and Aldrakar rose and left to attend to his duties that one took hold.
The nightmare was a familiar one: she was a child again in the deep woods of Thysan, living on the family estate that she could only leave secretly, and that with her brother's help. The old, high walls were ruined and overgrown with green moss, an outward sign of the family's low standing. Ancient firs peeked over in all seasons, having in later generations been allowed to grow against the walls. Against the wall that banked the Draco River and prevented its waters from rising during floods stood the funerary grove: a hundred oaks or more, each planted over a member of the family who had passed, and each bearing a plaque with that individual's name and the years they'd lived. Those nearest the wall were the oldest, their names worn beyond recognition or long since rusted away. Young trees stood on the edges of the grove, their plaques proudly aligned with the overgrown paths that had seen no visitors in years. Time was that a caretaker had been dedicated to that grove; alas, the plaques no longer shined with regular cleaning, and the weeds choked the roots so that some stood dead or leaned against their fellows, dying.
The grounds nearest the ancient, outdated home of the le Drakes were clean by comparison. A large cooking garden stood at the back of the house, maintained by a meticulous cook with a harsh tongue and ready sweets. His two daughters took care of the spit and the baking respectively, while his son kept the kennels. An older boy had once helped with the horses; he'd gone adventuring across the river though. Most people considered him dead: the Zuma lands stretched endlessly beyond, and a man who didn't die on their land must surely wish that he had.
The traditional home of the le Drakes was rectangular, with an inner court kept neat and bland by the lone groundskeeper. A dry fountain stood to one end, its marble angels clean but weather-worn. A small pond stood on the other, unfathomably deep but empty save for a single old catfish. Jocelin had seen it once, and her dream was of that fateful day. The sisters from the kitchens had saved some breadcrumbs for it, and for once they'd taken her on one of their adventures around the grounds. On a day when her mother should have been in Aveston they crowded onto the dilapidated bridge and laid on their bellies, even the noble girl in her pretty linens. They leaned out only as far as they dared, for Erik (their brother, the boy who stunk like the dogs he cared for) had sworn it was big enough to swallow them up. The sisters sprinkled their crumbs onto the dark surface and waited; Jocelin, who'd saved a bit of her breakfast upon hearing of this adventure, waited until the crumbs had begun to sink and disappear into the depths before she offered a larger piece.
"There it is," One of the sisters whispered, while the other whimpered in fear. Beside them Jocelin frowned; she couldn't see it, could only see the log that surely must rest on the bottom--
The log opened a pink-lined mouth as wide as her shoulders, sucking in the offering that had begun to sink. Without seeming to move it rose from the depths, its outline growing clearer until a catfish longer than Jocelin waited a hand's breadth below the surface. Its great tail moved slowly from side to side, and its pumping gills revealed fleshly pink underneath. It waited placidly beneath them, watching. The older sister giggled nervously, "Feed it!"
Jocelin shook her head, holding the last of her breakfast roll to her chest. The older girl looked irritated, "Do it, or you don't get to play with us no more." Her sister sat up on her elbows and nodded solemnly. "No more adventures!"
"No more?" The sisters were mean to her in ways that only girls could be, but they were the closest things to friends she had outside of the brother she idolized. And he'd been spending more and more time away from the estate. Time was that he'd sneak her out and show her his secret spots in the woods. Now...
The young noble steeled herself and threw another piece over the edge. The catfish considered it for a moment and then sucked up the offering. From somewhere nearby a throaty giggled echoed in the elongated courtyard. "Feed it by hand." Jocelin stiffened, clutching the last bit of bread tightly to her. The sisters greeted the newcomer warmly, unimpeded by rank as they were in the younger girl's case. Though the red-headed teen that sauntered from the shadows was only three years her senior she'd already begun to grow into her womanhood. Her breasts were creamy and a touch too large for her second-hand dress, and her hips swung in such a way as to both imply a noble heritage and shun it completely. Golden eyes marked her for a le Drake, but neither Jocelin's father nor her mother had hair so red as that. That came from her real mother.
Jocelin's bastard sister.
"Do it." Rue stared her little sister down, sucking the fun out of the atmosphere and replacing it with dread. Jocelin bit her lip: if the kitchen girls could be mean, than Rue could be exceptionally cruel. Their threats were always forgotten after a time; Rue's could remain dormant for months, and the sisters always listened to her. In a way she was in charge, not the young noble whose birthright it was to command the people of the house. Like the house amongst the ruins, her ancient blood meant nothing to anyone.
The catfish waited.
Jocelin dipped her hand in, opening it to show the fish the offering. Long minutes passed in which the four girls remained absolutely still, waiting. Not a breath was drawn as it inched closer...
"Jocelin!"
A sharp voice cut through the silence like a knife. Across the courtyard a tall, blonde figure strode toward them, her skirts gathered in her hands. Her mother didn't see what they were doing in the water, only that her daughter was soaking her sleeve and dirtying a dress she'd spent weeks on. The sisters scrambled to their feet; behind her Rue cursed and slunk away, unwilling to face the woman whose wrath she feared like no other. Jocelin also tried to stand, but a sharp pain in her hand made her cry out. The water churned as the great fish clamped down like a vise with raspy pads and pulled, threatening to pull her over the bridge and into the dark water. Beside her the younger sister screamed, her thudding footfalls marking her escape from the beast below. To the older one's credit she grabbed on and tried pulling the noble girl from the catfish's grasp. But it wasn't until her mother arrived and stomped on the thing's head with her fashionable shoes that it released her. Together she and the kitchen girl hauled Jocelin back to the shore.
"We tried stoppin' her! She tried to feed it, M'lady, honest!--"
Jocelin's mother slapped her, eyes blazing with fury. It was then that the groundskeeper arrived, and the furious noblewoman thrust an accusing finger at the kitchen girl's chest. "Take her to the kennels and beat her for making my girl do this!" She shot a suspicious look to either side for the child she thought truly responsible, but Rue had long since learned to make herself scarce when Lady le Drake was near. So she satisfied herself with the punishment of another in her place, and by the look the girl threw at her Jocelin knew she'd receive the blame. She started crying, half because she was scared and hurt because of the thing in the water and half because she knew things were going to get a lot worse for her around the others. Her mother mistook her sobs for the first alone and whispered sweet nothings into her hair. "Shh, shh, you're safe now. My miracle is safe." The possessiveness in her tone spoke greatly of their relationship. Before Jocelin had been born her mother had been thought barren. Melot's --her older brother's-- birth had nearly killed the golden lady, which is why her husband had sought comfort in the arms of another. Jocelin's birth had not only given them an alternative to their wandering, disinterested heir, but had erased the stain of Rue's birth and (in their eyes) repaired their marriage. And given their crushed hopes for their son, the future of the family now rested squarely on their daughter's shoulders.
Lady Le Drake was an impatient woman. After too short a time the gentle rocking and stroking stopped, "Really, Jocelin: you're making a scene. Nobles do not bleat like common slobs." Yet her daughter continued to whimper.
And here is where memory morphed into nightmare. After the incident by the pond Jocelin had been brought to her room. For weeks she screamed in her sleep that the monster was coming to eat her. She avoided any body of water larger than her and eventually had to be forced to take a bath when her stink became too great. The sisters in the kitchen had disliked her before; after the eldest's beating they would hiss under her breath when she was near and pinch and twist her skin if they could get away with it. Rue continued to harass her like an alleycat does a domestic pet, emboldened by the other girls' obvious disdain. Her mother, bless her heart, actually noticed and kept Jocelin by her side at all times. That was how it had happened then: in this dream, however, her hand remained clamped inside the beast's mouth. Its bony jaw was flat and raspy like sandpaper, scraping away her skin and clouding the water with blood. Her shoulder strained as she fought to get free; she screamed for help, but in a nightmare no one comes. Eventually it pulled her in and began to sink back down, unhurried and unimpeded by its struggling prey. Her lungs burned and her body hurt with the growing weight of the water around her. They sunk for ages into the murky darkness... and as terrified as she was it wasn't the pain or the predator alone. It was the inevitably, the fact that no matter what she did there was no escape, and that everything would end for her in those deep, dark waters.
Her breath gave out. Bubbles erupted around her face; icy water invaded her airways--
And then she woke up, her nose and mouth smothered by a soft cushion as she lay face down. Jocelin scrambled into an upright sitting position, shaking and slick with terror sweat. A whimper like a small, wounded animal escaped her, and even weak with fear she managed to drag a pillow to her chest. She clung to it like a shipwrecked sailor to flotsam as she rode the panic to its inevitable end. The tears that followed were welcome, for she'd woken up too many times like that not to know that they were tears of relief.
It wasn't until they'd ended that Jocelin remembered where she was and why. Her impulse was to look for Aldrakar; it seemed, however, that he'd already woken. Golden eyes lingered on the spot he'd occupied the night before, her expression inscrutable.
Noise in the hallway. A servant entered with the intention of cleaning and paused on the threshold; they curtsied and mumbled a polite apology, clearly having expected the room to be empty. Jocelin ignored her and put the pillow down, her actions fluid with practice though her limbs still shook. There must have been some hint of her night terrors in her face still, for the maid asked if her ladyship was alright. She was ignored until Jocelin had invented a suitable excuse. Her chin lifted arrogantly, and her tone was lofty with an aristocrat's disdain.
"This pillow was dusty underneath; I seem to have gotten some into my eyes. Fetch a bowl of warm water to my room and see this one is cleaned. Thoroughly."
Affirmation. The maid disappeared to do as she had been told. Jocelin encountered no one in the hall of the family wing and managed to slip into her room unseen. She washed with a towel and a steaming bowl of water and dressed for the day, every action as laborious as if she'd aged forty years. Before she left her room Jocelin stood before a floor-length mirror and hid her face in her hands, gathering herself as she'd once caught her mother doing. When she finally looked up again every sign of the nightmare was gone, replaced by the gentle and disciplined smile of a noblewoman bred.
She left her room at an unhurried pace, the sun outside the windows very much past the noon hour.
-
Flowing from that string of Rp's between Jocelin and Aldrakar other people also wrote Rp's. Very good ones really but its not my place to post them also. Besides, have to keep this thread about Aldrakar no? hehe. However. Aldrakar did go and meet his friend Ronan. A noble in Luria whom is famous for commanding cavalry units. They are good friends. Aldrakar recently opened a cavalry Training Center which boasted impressive soldiers.
Written by the Player of Ronan Maelodor
Jousting: part 1
Ronan rode to the military district of Giask. His friend Aldrakar had informed him a new heavy cavalry center was build and that he had bestowed Ronan with the honour of a statue in front of the center. It was indeed a marvelous statue and the artist did a rather good job, or at least in Ronan his opinion. He knew little of art, unless it concerns the art of battle. The statue pictured a fully armoured cavalier on a prancing horse. The head of Ronan was covered with the exact same helmet he wore in battle: the one with the eagle on it. He smiled, and slight proud, he continued to the large training ground of the recruitment center. A large host of mounted soldiers was gathering there and it looked liked they were about to begin with their morning training.
As soon as he entered, the sergeant of the center approached him:
" Lord Ronan, welcome. You honour us with your presence. You're just in time for our morning practice. Imperial Magistrate Aldrakar informed me you were interested in testing these new soldiers?"
" Thank you sergeant. You're right indeed. I could use some practice. What's up for this morning?"
"We'll be jousting, Sir Ronan. And I see you came well prepared. You just look like your statue outside!"
"I'm always ready for some action, sergeant. Better be prepared! If I can lend a jousting lance, we can start right away."
The sergeant signaled a boy who soon returned with a lance. "Wonderful, Lord Ronan. We're ready when you are."
Ronan turned Sirocco, his horse: "I hope your men are ready sergeant!" He lowered his visor and rode to the other soldiers.
"I indeed hope they are ready" the sergeant mumbled. "May he have mercy on these poor recruits".
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I of course engaged him and its hopefully only a start of something more. Time will tell but its a very different branch of the RP tree. I like it.
The Rendorian Heavy Chargers Training Facility
Riding down a good paved road that led away west from Giask. Not actually outside the region but it did lead to the outskirts of the city limits. It cut through low coastal hills and was dotted with dwellings and occassional inns. Good structures owned by prestigious craftsmen, merchants and lower nobility. It was a fine ride despite the cold of Lurian winter. His breath forming a white trail behind him that was lost in the bellowing white storm that fumed from Bescus, his steed. Aldrakar had opted to wear a long and heavy coat over his cloths as a means to keep the chill out but Bescus did an equal part in that. The creature was a furnace so much heat radiated from him.
There were no roadside stalls in this part of the City. Proper shops and courtyards even for the smaller houses. Lined with formal gardens and patrols of soldiers not only in armor but also fancy uniform. Behind Aldrakar there rode 2 cavalrymen, the same from yesterday but only two this time instead of the previous four. The road took them into a valley that stood well above the ocean but afforded a splendid view of the Euschean sea. A natural expanse of flatland in the hills that surrounded Giask to the east. A knowledgeable man might guess these Hills stretched all the way to Sulorte but few actually realized that.
The land was good, held few trees and the soil was firm but without many rocks or pebbles in it. Good for wineries or olive groves but in this instance, a training center for cavalry. When Aldrakar caught sight of the place he could see the enclosing wall of pristine white. It was very decorative as it was a prestigious military training center but it wasn't without function. The wall was high and thick enough to dissuade would be attackers and the gate albeit gilded was indeed made of tempered steel. The rods formed into beautiful, soft shapes that belied the struggle they would offer any that tried to force them open.
Directly behind that gate, big enough to admit 6 horsemen abreast at a time, was a meticulously tended square. From here paved and unpaved paths led to all the areas of the menagerie, one for walking and cards, the other for mounted riders. At the center of the square there was a solid and big slab of silver streaked marble. It rested on even more stone that formed steps to sit upon, rest, or actually to just raise the statue that mounted the marble. Here, at the peak stood a dark bronze statue, thrice life size, of Lord Ronan the Charger. The figure sat atop a prancing horse so detailed even his eyes, teeth and entire deck of muscles were clearly articulated. The man that was Ronan in full battle dress and even on a windless day a beholder could feel the winds of history tug at his cape and the manes of his horse.
Aldrakar smiled proudly as he saw the statue and soon after discovered that Ronan himself was nearby. A company of Heavy Cavalrymen were lined up and presented themselves to Ronan. Ready also to start their day's training. Bescus flared his nostrils as he took in the scent of lesser horses. In his mind even Pegasus's were beneath him probably. In the backdrop one could spot 4 white washed manor houses. The main one that led straight away from the gate and subsequent square were the dormitories of the cadets and also functioned as the administrative heart. A very prestigious and perhaps decadent building. It sported lavish gardens and over the top decorations to display just how exceptional it really was. You'd have to either have a rich family or very well connected friends to gain admittance there.
Off to the left of the main building was a grand stable with joined next to it several pens for breaking horses, private exercise and a small pond. About ten dozen horses could seen at any given time. Attendants and riders both lavishing care on the expensive beasts. A nursery could also be spied out, but only to those with exceptional keen eyes or prior knowledge.
On the right of the main building were a couple of classroom buildings or barracks and further still a series of workshops or perhaps indoor courts. Both for man and beast presumably. The greatest expanse from the entrance to those actual 3 sites with buildings was carefully cut grasslands. Not a single flower in them and a perfectly flat, green, uniform stretch of grass. It screamed discipline and wealth.
Ronan asked for a practice lance to borrow. He was of course obliged with much decorum. ''Going for the longer lances eh Ronan? Still got some compensating to do hmm?'' Aldrakar laughed easily and displayed his white, good teeth.
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Hey there! Got an Rp for you about Asher, one of the twin sons of Aldrakar. Enjoy!
Asher and the Boot
Jumping off his horse Aldrakar landed badly. His ankle almost gave way were it not for the rigidity of the boots he was wearing. The accompanying heavy cavalrymen winced at the ill display of horsemanship or perhaps simply misfortune. Aldrakar muttered a curse under his breath, his eyebrows arched and his eyes hard. The servants came from the Palatial main entrance and took care of Bescus, his steed, and all the other details required. They left Aldrakar alone as much as they could for they sensed his dark mood.
''Da!'' Asher appeared from behind one of the scribes standing on the steps leading to the main entrance of the Golden Palace. The boy's hair was a tangle of wild strands raging like waves of a tumultuous ocean. The tip of his tongue exposed at the corner of his mouth as he made great efforts to hurry down the steps without fumbling. Aldrakar hardly noticed.
Triumphantly Asher planted his feet on the flawlessly aligned stone of the square. His chin up and like a mini general he surveyed the route best taken to reach his father. Boldly he chose the most direct approach. It led him past Bescus, a group of wary officials and dangerously close to men in armor whom could crush him with a single misstep. The soldiers tried to speak to their Lord. Something about an intruder. Asher's head spun with the speed with which the soldiers spoke to his Da. Squeezing past a kiteshield that was resting on the ground next to one of the soldiers he raised his fist to his father to show him his latest gift and discovery.
''Look Da! Iss a Soldier!'' The little man held up a copper figurine not larger than an index finger. The toy represented a man at arms in full battle dress. Sword raised and shield ready to protect the body.
Aldrakar frowned deeply and looked annoyed. He turned his face to address Asher. ''Not now Asher!'' The barb very real and the tone akin to a punch. Sound died down for Asher. He could only see his father furiously discussing with the soldiers. His father looked so huge, the soldiers so small in comparison. Aldrakar barked at them. Why da?.. Tears welled up in his eyes. One of the Soldiers took a backward step in an attempt to avoid some of Aldrakar's displeasure. He knocked Asher down to the ground.
It hurt. the reinforced boot slammed into his little tummy and forced him to double over and forced him backwards at the same time. Asher felt like puking. He tried mightily to contain himself. Tears flowed over his cheeks. He didn't make a sound. A huge clash brought sound back to his world. The soldier crashed to the ground next to him. His father's hair as radiant as a red sun at dawn. A fist raised, a knuckle bleeding.
Asher felt himself being scooped up by his father's strong hands. He hugged Aldrakar's shoulder and cried silently.
-
It's not just one but two! Double Joy!
Men 'O Arms
Seeing the guard virtually stepping onto his son, the pain streaked face of Asher enraged Aldrakar. Before he knew it he had stepped forwards, balled his fist, raised it and struck the guard in the face. A blow his mind hardly registered so instinctive it had been. The guard went down with that single punch, dumbstruck, literally.
Pain welled up in his hand. Aldrakar ignored it as he reached for Asher and picked him up. The boy was crying. He collected his son on one arm and cast a devastating glance at the guard on the ground. His face a bloody mess and his nose 30 degrees off center where it used to be straight. Aldrakar turned and marched away.
As soon as Aldrakar exited the entrance square into a section of the palatial gardens did servants rush towards the stricken guard. Some started gossiping instantly but some prepared to lift the spirits of their Lord. One of those was Jalen, a young but promising administrator. Offering the guard that was struck a small compensation in the form of a few silvers. Not to make a fuss.
Aldrakar fled to a small and secluded area in the gardens. It was a small fishing dock set at the edge of a fishing pond. The inside was lavish but still cozy. He put Asher down on a sofa facing the waterfront and lit a couple of torches as to illuminate the place. Asher recovered visibly. ''I'm sorry Asher. I shouldn't have spoken so harshly to you. You were only trying to show me something.'' A faint hint of embarrassment colored Aldrakar's cheeks.
Asher instantly brightened and smiled from ear to ear. ''Thatss alright Da. I'm really strong!'' The boy flexed his arms and nothing showed that could be seen as strength except an unmistakable and unconquerable cheer. Aldrakar smiled and shook his head. ''Stronger than Giants!'' He took a seat next to Asher on the sofa. The night wind played with the flames of the torches and the room was a realm of casting shadows and mysterious shapes. ''Look..'' Asher's voice was small as he showed his father the figurine again.
Taking it from Asher and into his hand Aldrakar inspected it with great care. It was one of the toy soldiers Lord Ezra had send him for his sons. ''It's a warrior isn't it?'' Aldrakar feigned ignorance and looked at Asher. ''Yes!'' The boy exclaimed. ''T'is a Man, O'Arms!'' Aldrakar gave an appreciative and throaty noise. ''Man of Arms eh?'' He turned the figurine over and over again. ''He's only got two arms as far as I can tell. Where are his other arms?'' Asher squealed with laughter. ''Man of Arms! Like this!'' Asher pointed at the raised sword that the figurine was holding up. ''That's not an arm! That's a Sword!'' Aldrakar playfully protested.
And so father and son spend a quiet evening together. The stress of the world forgotten and there was great talk of men and their arms. Some had two, some had one and a lucky few had ten! but that is a story for another time, for Asher soon fell asleep in the arms of his father.
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From the Player of Jocelin Le Drake
A young messenger arrives for Aldrakar as he works, breathless from running. The colors of his tunic are Barcan, the braided knot on his shoulder in the style of Moon Bay. His fist opens to reveal a scrap of cloth crumpled into his palm, and he offers it with a bow. "My lord," He pants, "A letter from Lady Jocelin." It is hardly more than a note, written with a distinct sense of urgency. The ink is smudged from having been crushed before drying.
The Stars could not be clearer tonight. This boy will help me escape, and bring my love to my lord if we succeed. Please wait for me, Aldrakar. I am coming home.
The boy slumps against the door frame while Aldrakar reads, his face ashen with exertion. He is clearly in no condition to elaborate immediately, though he could be with some rest.
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Hey there! A small Rp that is more of a spring board rather than anything else. It illustrates and updates subtly. Still, it also sets a mood and that in Rp is very important I feel. Inspiring other people.
Raw hands
It was a blend of Ochre, the walls of many buildings, the hulls of many ships. Mingled into this blend were the Annatto roofs and in part the bright clothing of the people walking in the streets. A few dignitaries, men thinking themselves important and wearing the Cochineal fabrics to mark them as such. Rubbing feeling back into his hands Aldrakar took in the vista from his lavish training pavilion. It jutted out from the nothing wing of the Golden palace and was quite literally an artificial cliff. He fingered a suddenly tender scrap on his wrist as he heard a soft chuckle behind him.
''You won't forget to make a proper guard next time I try to pull a trick on you I'm sure.'' The auburn haired man with olive skin smiled a smirk that could've been stolen straight from a satire. The horns and hooves easily imagined. A gentle breeze ran over their sweat stained bodies. The grunts of a dozen training swordsmen like the buzz of worker-bees in the background.
Aldrakar stepped away from the edge of the pavilion. ''You're right, Angelo. I won't forget. Next time it'll be you bleeding!'' A big grin disarmed the words but it too quickly faded as a servant arrived. A boy, not quite a man. Slender and fairly gaunt he was panting, his eyes wide as he held up a hand in apology. ''Easy boy, why were you permitted into my home?'' The question directed at a senior house servant rather than the messenger boy. The older man dressed in the Rendorian colors offered a silent apology and bowed. The messenger coughed as he struggled to gulp down air. A flutter caught Aldrakar's eye. He wasn't apologizing at all the boy. He was holding up a bit of parchment.
With two long strides Aldrakar was upon him and snatched the piece like an owl falling on a mouse in a freshly harvested field of wheat. His eyes roamed the confines of the small letter and his muscles moved of their own volition. The last two years had seen Aldrakar spend long days at Physical training and the Art of Sword-fighting and it showed. He was near the peak of his physical appearance. A statue of the ancient masters given skin and vital breath. Also devoid of strange leafs at private locations certainly.
He raked his hair absentmindedly as he thought on what was written, a moment passed and he put the parchment in the belt. ''Pay the boy, see him fed.'' The words spoken with force and Aldrakar walked inside the Palace. Abandoning the gentle outside and setting to the task of finding that which would see to him restored, a piece of his heart.
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Next up is a small RP, like a snippet almost. It's meant to go along with other more basic functions of the game like actually sending bonds to people or sending letters / messenger etc. Give a bit of flesh to the body so to speak. Keep them guessing and tease a little.
It was no strange sight, it happened often really. Yet, this time like some other times. There was a strange sense of urgency. The guards were more alert and the carriages were more sturdy. From the Golden Palace at Giask several trains of carriages and well armed guards went into the world. They carried seals of the Imperial Magistrate but perhaps more importantly, that of the House Renodin. A keen observer or rather a hired informant, lest we call them spy, might have been able to discern that the nature of at least two of the little caravans was gold.
Gold to fuel the greed of men or perhaps to the service of the Empire. Regardless, money was flowing from the well known as Wealth.
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Hey! This piece is a response I wrote as a way to illustrate a musing, pondering Aldrakar. Its a new chapter in the not so very solid relationship between Aldrakar and Jocelin. She had been away for a long time and when she reappeared she had undertaken a slew of other activities.
A Lurian Night
It felt like gently chilled silk upon his kin. When he ventured out too much it became more pronounced and he imagined it to be akin to a splash of cold water. The droplets falling where they would. Aldrakar looked out over Giask from a balcony of the Golden Palace. It was evening and a thousand thousand torches blanketed the big city in a wonderful flow. Next to him a brazier of red clay shaped in the head of a roaring lion with its mouth opened to the sky warmed him. The flames in a dance that would last only as long as the timber that sustained it.
A wry smile crept up onto his face. That was her ship, his eyes trying to make out details but it was futile. It was a small vessel with nothing really distinct, but it was hers. A pang from the fire interrupted his train of thought. ''Da!" Aldrakar turned his head slowly to find Asher, his second born son of 7 summers, approach him from the warm indoors. "Da..?'' Asher looked up his father with a quizzical expression heavy on his face. Aldrakar made a small gesture with his hand. ''Come here." The boy obliged.
''You recall Lady Jocelin?'' Aldrakar asked his son while he picked him up. Asher didn't reply. Aldrakar let the boy rest on his arm. ''You're getting too old and heavy for this.'' A warm smile telling the boy that his father was teasing him. ''Noooo! Never!'' Asher teased back and clutched his father's shoulder. His small hands grabbing the collar of Aldrakar's shirt.
''She's on that ship over there, the one with the dark yellowish sails.'' A look informed him that Asher didn't quite understand. ''The boat with the three lights, see?'' Asher nodded as he stifled a yawn. ''Tired?'' Aldrakar asked quietly, already making eye contact with Madelin. A young woman that was the boy's warden of sorts. ''Naaahhh...'' The word trailed as Asher denied it.
Madelin came up to them and offered to take Asher. Aldrakar handed him to her and she took him inside again. A proud but soon sad smile formed on Aldrakar's face. He looked back at Jocelin's ship. He thought back on her last letter. A mean piece, she was in her right to be mean. It was probably for the best. Suddenly aware of the cold, it got to him somehow. Crept up more like and he shuddered.
That night Aldrakar stood long on that balcony. Long and deep in thought, his hands warming at the licking flames from the Lion brazier. Thoughts about the future and more than a few memories battling with a rational mind.
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It's me again! but not with writing of my own but of the player of Jocelin. Great stuff really but if you're a regular, you already knew that. Enjoy!
Jocelin put her quill aside, her face white with fury. Angry tears threatened to spill, and lest they ruin the still-wet ink she wiped them away. Her hands were shaking as she reached for a pinch of sand from a small box on the desk, sprinkling it across the page to absorb the remaining ink. After a few minutes she gently lifted it; blackened sand fell away unheeded as she reread what she'd written. The desire to wound him had been strong and clearly showed, but she felt she could have been crueler. For a sick moment Jocelin considered tearing it up and sailing away, leaving his last letter to hang between them forever. Why even give him the satisfaction of a response? Why did she have to come crawling back on her belly like a cur?
She stared at it for a few minutes longer and then summoned one of the sailors to deliver it. When he'd gone she went to the Captain, demanding that no one be allowed onto the ship until dawn. If he comes, She reasoned on the way back to her cabin, thinking Aldrakar wouldn't if his first letter was any indication, He will be sent away. The sputtering candle on her desk died with a breath. Jocelin crawled into bed without so much as changing out of her robes, wanting nothing more than to hide until dawn. In the comforting cocoon of her blankets she curled in on herself. I won't see him. I don't want to see him. Jocelin's wounded pride fueled her thoughts... but it was her anger and her loneliness that kept her awake, listening to the creaking of the wood around her for the sound of footsteps above deck.
The night passed fitfully. Every time Jocelin started to drift towards sleep the footsteps of the ship's watch startled her awake, and she'd wait tensely in the following moments for the door to her cabin to open. Yet it never did, and her anger subsided into profound loneliness. She pulled the blanket tighter around her shoulders. Did he get my letter? They were minutes from the heart of the city, but it'd been late when her messenger left. Maybe it hadn't been received yet, and she was waiting for nothing.
Another ten minutes and she was kicking the blankets off, her mercurial temper taking hold. Jocelin threw on a dark cloak tastefully lined with red and studded with red stars. She left her cabin to wander on the deck, her eyes immediately seeking the Stars when the night air struck her. It seemed there was a second love in her life, for the tension in her face melted away in their light. She sat on a covered crate off the dockside bow to gaze, meditating to cool her nerves. The roving watch passed her by without so much as stopping, familiar as they were with the noblewoman on deck at all hours of the night. She tried not to let the castle above the city distract her... but found herself staring at it anyway, wondering if the unmoving watcher on the lighted balcony was Aldrakar.
He didn't come. Had she really expected him to? Maybe she was being too impatient... but it had been two years.
"Why don't you come down here?" Jocelin called to no one in particular, knowing she was too far away to be heard.
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Hahaha, couldn't resist. Had to write it. Here it is. A rather mocking, teasing, offending? piece of Rp that is written from the perspective of one of Aldrakar's Servants. A young man quite able at administrative things. Enjoy!
Death and Taxes
The horizon was painted in thick layers of red, of orange, of yellow and finally a restful blue. Surrounded by a cadre of handpicked soldiers all sporting the livery of House Renodin was a slender man. Thin in the way of youth and clever evasion of martial training. Jalen cared little for the strength of his sword arm. Few would survive the verbal slaughter he could inflict with his exceptional intelligence and grasp on legal matters.
It were these particular skills and aversions that had seen him rise swiftly in the ranks of the staff of the Imperial Magistrate. A man he found far too prim, exact and.. virtuous. A good man sure, but stuck up in a wrong way. Jalen pulled the fine fox pelt cape tighter around his diminutive shoulders. One of the soldiers eyed him funnily. ''See something you like Gerald? I didn't take you for a man lover.'' Jalen's tone entirely sarcastic. The other soldiers chuckled and Gerald fumed, powerless against a favored servant of the Lord Aldrakar. ''Didn't think so, now look lively, do your job.'' Jalen gave the much bigger man a nasty look.
Their early errant wasn't sudden and certainly not without a suitable reason. Jalen was nothing if not well informed. One of the topics he studiously spend effort on was the subject of likes and preferences. Knowing what your Lord and Master likes makes it a whole lot easier to make him like you. Aldrakar, so Jalen knew, liked Lady Jocelin, a lot. What Aldrakar didn't yet know was that Lady Jocelin had taken up residence in the Inner City. To compound on the matter, she had even proclaimed, albeit relatively silently, it her own estate to govern. The possibilities made Jalen grin, what to do first, what to suggest in return. His fortunes would rise still!
After some time the cadre and its important civil servant arrived at the docks. Curling his lip up and displaying his teeth expressed Jalen's dislike for this part of the City. Too busy, too dirty, too crowded. He transformed to the very image of serenity as soon as he set about the task of announcing himself. This involved him silently ordering some of the Soldiers to board the ship via the gangplank and proclaim his arrival. An erect finger did the job nicely.
The crew of the small ship looked confused and more than a few worried. Soon the captain emerged but Jalen didn't let his absence prevent himself from listing his intentions. Which were, conveniently, written down on a scroll he unfurled with a flourish. ''The Great City of Giask, Mother of Realms, Most Bright Jewel of Luria, Largest of the Cities of Dwilight welcomes its -Potentially- newest Dame!'' Jalen paused briefly to look at the red faced captain of the ship and just as quickly dismissed him. ''Where you have failed to present yourself to the Lord of Giask you may prostate yourself before his favored servant and offer your oath of Fealty so that it may be conveyed to his person.'' Jalen made a bit of a show pushing his chin up into the air and looking over everyone gathered. His hands straitening the sleeves of his deep yellow and crimson jacket. Heavily embroidered and full of iconography.
''It earns great displeasure to assume an estate before declaring one's intent. In the book of Laws as housed in the First Library of Giask it clearly states that such offence is grave indeed! A swift display of remorse and suitable compensation may alleviate the gross insult onto his person and the people of the City.'' Jalen's face was the very image of peace, his eyebrows almost nonchalant.
''Should you accomplish this feat and gain favor.'' He almost rolled his eyes. ''A fair and modest tax will be levied of 50 percent, that being half of the revenues enjoyed. Furthermore is any Knight or Dame, Bondsman or woman expected to fulfill martial service. Until the body cannot take in breath anymore, the arms too weak to function and the very flesh rend from the bone, until indeed, death sets in.'' The last addendum entirely of his own fabrication, the clear voice in which he spoke merely the product of much practice.
''Should you refuse this benevolence and turn away from such opportunity you will be banished from the City forever, never to return again.'' Jalen's voice changed as he started to roll the scroll up again. ''I'm sure it doesn't quite need to get to that though.'' A very friendly smile was conjured onto his face by an invisible fairy on he could see. ''We can help one another, surely you know of what I speak.'' His hands and arms slowly swept to the side in a disarming gesture and his impeccable white teeth fully on display. ''Lady Jocelin, let me help you.''
-
I'm back again! I've been sluggish to post these follow up Rp's. They're almost a month old so I guess the game itself spurred me on to post them here. 30 day cut off limit and all that.
Written by Jocelin Le Drake's player:
The Night Before...
Midnight came and went, and the chill of night's darkest hours came with a fog from the ocean. Jocelin's view of the Stars and the castle on the hill was gradually obstructed... but still she remained, stubbornly awaiting Aldrakar to take even a few steps toward her on her long journey home. But the docks remained quietly, and after a time she retreated below decks to sleep. And that might well have been the end of her night had she not sought comfort at the bottom of a bottle. For someone who was so cautious in maintaining the image of a courtly lady, her private hours had been dedicated more and more frequently to the numbing comfort of spirits.
Of course, Jocelin remembered nothing of the demand's she'd made after retiring to bed, and knew only that the pounding in her skull was grossly magnified by the pounding of the deck above her head. Further pounding on the door to her cabin caused her to roll out of bed, loudly protesting the intrusion on her privacy and health with a senseless onslaught of vowels. Her mouth was dry and acrid as dragon's breath, and her clothes still hadn't changed from the night before. The warped mirror she'd brought aboard from Sulorte reflected a sloppy, wild-haired, groggy-eyed doppleganger of the woman known as Jocelin. She did what she could to make herself more presentable before answering the pounding on the door, "Do you know who I am?"
The cabin boy looked confused, for the woman shouting at him was nothing like the composed lady the crew had grown familiar with. His preteen voice cracked slightly as he pointed toward the stairs. "There's a whole army and a lord--" Her eyes shot open wide, and she shouldered past the boy in her haste. But at the bottom of the steps she hesitated, aware of how slovenly she looked. "Can I go out there like this?" Two years. If he hated her, would he still have come? She started to pace, the mask of courtly elegance lost for a candid look at the lost girl beneath. Jocelin's fingers combed through her tangled hair, becoming more and more frantic as they encountered more snags. Her eyes darted nervously from side to side, and she chewed on her bottom lip as she weighed the pros and cons of going out as she was. There might never have been a verdict in her thoughts had the cabin boy not moved toward her. Like a rat in the pantry she froze, not facing him but looking at him out of the corner of her eye. The rest of her body was still as the gates of austerity came slamming down, and her face became curiously blank before the haughty mask of a noblewoman disturbed from her sleep replaced it. She twisted her hair and pulled it over her shoulder to mask most of the tangles, and lifted her chin for just the proper touch of arrogance. After a few minor adjustments of her robes she squared her shoulders and came onto the deck.
''The Great City of Giask, Mother of Realms, Most Bright Jewel of Luria, Largest of the Cities of Dwilight welcomes its -Potentially- newest Dame!''
Jocelin fought to hide her disappointment. You're not Aldrakar. She suppressed the urge to roll her eyes at the scrawny piece of flesh speaking to her, recognizing him from her time before in Giask. His name escaped her, and her annoyance made it difficult to concentrate on the speech being made. It wasn't until he mentioned an estate that her attention came back to him full swing. Did I claim an estate last night? She couldn't remember past the pounding in her skull and the dryness of her mouth and throat... but it couldn't be expected that she would admit to these things aloud.
Jalen rolled up the scroll from which he'd been reading. His face broke into a smile that somehow felt slimy underneath. The others on deck were silent as he came forward, his quiet voice carrying over the sounds of the crowded wharf. A crowd had gathered dockside, onlookers curious about the soldiers that had boarded the ship. To see a tired priestess not of the major faiths within the city (there being only a handful of Ecclesial Sanguiastroists in Giask) only sparked more curiosity.
In all that Jalen had had to say to her, only one thing stuck. Jocelin regarded him warily. She at least seemed intrigued. "How can you help me?"
-
And the next piece in the exchange!
Jalen's offer
In all that Jalen had had to say to her, only one thing stuck. Jocelin regarded him warily. She at least seemed intrigued. "How can you help me?"
--
His smile turned carefully through a cycle of emotions. First compassion, then a faded and thinly veiled form of glee to ultimately arrive at pride cushioned with ample smugness. ''Well, we can always help one another Lady Jocelin.'' He all but purred as he took the time to move closer to her. His eyes fleetingly resting on her form. ''You look a mess, did you sleep poorly?'' He waved a hand. ''No matter, it is clear why my Master, Aldrakar is so fond of you. A flame I could fuel for you perhaps.'' He arched an eyebrow almost privately at her.
Stepping away from her resolutely, not waiting on her to respond Jalen struck out an arm to the crowd gathered below the ship. ''People of Giask. Only the Justice of the Lord of Giask on display! His will ever in your service!'' Jalen licked his lips. ''Behold Lady Jocelin, former Suffete of Barca bow in servitude!'' The little man puffed his chest as he turned to Jocelin. ''All in good time Lady Jocelin. First a show of good faith.'' The words spoken through a mask of authority that was perhaps the true show for the low born to behold. His voice soft so those last words hopefully wouldn't reach the ears of the commoners.
''I can help you win his affection. A kind word can turn a heart and I have his ear. He listens to me and how can he refuse you when all you really need is a proper frame. You're a perfect picture Jocelin, just step into the frame..'' Jalen presented the scroll he had read from previously. His head turned to the crowd below. ''Behold people of Giask! The Lady Jocelin!''
-
Jocelin's response as written by the Player of Jocelin Le Drake.
Every step Jalen took forward seemed to tighten the world around her, and she felt slimier with every inch lost between them. Her wariness took on a catlike aspect: her golden eyes --locked on the boisterous servant before her-- blazed with unblinking feline fury, and the small step back she took felt like she was preparing to launch herself at him. Were it not for the crowd or the invocation of Aldrakar's name Jocelin would have attacked him... and she still might have, had he not stepped away. Immediately the tightness in her chest resolved, and she sucked in a greedy breath of the salty sea air. A hundred pairs of staring eyes went ignored, for the greatest threat to her well-being stood before her in elegant regalia.
The mention of Barca after so long an imprisonment might as well have been a slap to the face. Jocelin turned as white as a sheet; her knees buckled ever so slightly, evident only in the smallest hint of a sway. Was this planned? Her muddled thoughts tried to make sense of what was happening. Is this Aldrakar's response? Had two years made him so cruel as this, that he would send a servant to shame her publicly? Tears threatened, held back only because she would not allow these lowborn beasts witness them.
Jalen turned back to her. His voice dropped to the barest whisper. "I can help you win his affection. A kind word can turn a heart and I have his ear. He listens to me and how can he refuse you when all you really need is a proper frame. You're a perfect picture Jocelin, just step into the frame..''
Why would Jalen be saying such things, as if Aldrakar still expected her to come after humiliating her so? Realization dawned. So great became her hatred for this little man before her that she tasted hot metal. A great gulf opened between her waking thoughts and her body, evident in the stare that penetrated through Jalen to fixate on... well, nothing. "I will ruin you," She threatened quietly.
Her eyes continued to fixate on nothing as she turned to the gathered crowd, stepping past the public servant as if he were no more than an insect on her path. "Giask!" Her voice carried far on the sea breeze. "My error is most grievous, and my shame insurmountable, for how terribly I have disrespected your lord in this manner." Nodded assent, and a handful of insults lobbed from the faceless mob followed this announcement. Jocelin lifted a hand to pull the attention back to herself, her heart beating a terrible staccato in her chest. "But for the immensity of my transgression... is an avatar of that Justice truly enough? Should not the guilty be paraded before the Judge, and the verdict rendered from His mouth?"
She turned back to Jalen, suppressing the tremor in her limbs. Her voice took on a softer, pleading note, and she opened her palms to him. "I beseech you... take pity on a servant of the Stars, who knew not the gravity of her transgression. Allow me to prostrate myself before your Lord, and the man I would call mine." I will kill you. If she knelt to this hateful man now there would be no life in the city for her. Jocelin would rather take her chances with banishment than losing the respect of the people she intended to live amongst.
-
By this time I personally felt a bit bad for what was being written and done but the Story must go on! Drama is still part of life after all.
The Crowd and Crown
Like a great curious beast. Several hundred citizens and visitors of Giask looked on as their eyes informed them of the happenings atop a deck of a small ship. The ship that preformed as a host to the theater of life. Life of the Nobles, their betters. Few things are so sweet and bitter at the same time than to see them squirm and battle one another. Be that with actual steel or the steel of their minds. The people lapped it up like puppies do milk.
"Giask!" Jocelin called to them. Like a school of fish wary of a predator they congealed together. "My error is most grievous, and my shame insurmountable, for how terribly I have disrespected your lord in this manner." The ragged Lady told them in a clear voice. ''That's right!'' from one corner. ''You Harpy!'' from another. ''Shhh! Let her speak!'' A female voice rose. Heads bobbed and forceful gestures made the crowd appear to retake its confidence.
"But for the immensity of my transgression... is an avatar of that Justice truly enough? Should not the guilty be paraded before the Judge, and the verdict rendered from His mouth?" Jocelin's reasoning struck them like spring frost. The crowd quieted, then it fell to fits of chaos until Jocelin spoke again.
The many eyed beholder that was the people fell silent as they got onto the proverbial edge of their seat to better see what was exchanged between Jalen and Jocelin. "I beseech you... take pity on a servant of the Stars, who knew not the gravity of her transgression. Allow me to prostrate myself before your Lord, and the man I would call mine."
Taken aback Jalen struggled for a short moment to find his composure. His eyes scanned the crowd beyond and his mind worked. Aldrakar would learn of this soon, informants might already have arrived at the Golden Palace. His eye met her's. Raising his head he began to speak. ''You would think yourself above them?'' His utterly straight index finger pointing at the crowd. ''Is their justice not enough for you, Woman?'' He took two quick steps towards her and made a disgusted face at her. ''You think you're better and above the Law? The Law to which all Men have to keep themselves?'' His eyebrows rising high as he expressed fake surprise. ''A Woman demanding Justice different and beyond than that of us all?'' He turned to stand with the crowd, a simple illusion. He took a long moment to shrug and share a look with the many faces in the crowd.
Making an over-exaggerated and heavy nod ''Alright! Let us go to the Higher Justice you seek!'' Jalen's fist met the voices rising from the crowd that continued to swell. He punched up at the crowd. ''Let us find out if the Justice you will receive will be any different than that of theirs, of us!'' His face utterly serious but gleeful when he was out of view of the crowd. ''This won't go well for you Jocelin.'' His olive voice informed her.
Jalen signaled his sergeant. The big man in partial plate and heavy cape shouted a command which brought the soldiers into motion. They cleared a path from the gangplank and formed a small escort for Jocelin and Jalen. To walk side by side to the Golden Palace.
Moving through the crowd surrounded by a ring of steel Jalen affected being affronted by Jocelin and tried to jeer the people on like a born firebrand. ''Justice!'' The sergeant also seemed in cahoot as he and Jalen communicated mostly silently as to which directions to take to actually reach the Golden Palace. Markets, big boulevards, public sites and monuments. Any place a lot of people could be.
Arriving at the entrance of the massive Palace complex they were greeted by several hundred guards and soldiers in formal attire. Their breastplates glimmering in the mid winter sun. A cruel gust inflicting goosebumps and making banners flutter and spasm like the dying.
The Gates swung open and a party of Official looking men and 2 women received them with the ornate splendor afforded a visiting dignitary. The nearby streets were cramped with people drinking in the spectacle. Shouts indistinguishable from one another. Spirits high, spirits low. Word was out, Aldrakar would Judge this new Woman.
''It's not too late yet, I can make it all go away.'' Jalen conspiratorially whispered to Jocelin.
-
As written by the player of Jocelin Le Drake.
Is this what coming home is supposed to feel like? Jalen was leaning in to say something, but she never heard it. Her shell hardened until she was a different person, an unblinking, unseeing doppelganger with a kernel of personality in its heart. As she had, her opponent turned her words against her, finding insult where none was meant. The crowd was with him: the dull roar in her ears told her as much. I'm not here. I'm not here. I'm not here. The thought became an obsessive mantra, willed into being. Her last defense was to play dead; she folded her hands into the sleeves of her robes, her movements as labored as if they took place underwater. The ends of her fingers tingled hypoxically, and were she to engage in fine motor skills she would be found lacking. Her golden eyes dropped from Jalen's, and she refused to answer him or rise to his bait.
The city didn't exist. The crowd wasn't there. The march through Giask was happening to someone else, someone a thousand miles away. I'm not here. Why was this happening again? Why was this cockroach being allowed to parade her through the streets?
Jalen at her elbow again. She bristled, goaded to surface by her loathing for him. And still she wouldn't even look his way. "You're a monster." The crowd got to her then: her face turned ashen, and the shallow, rapid heaving of her chest made her eyes swim and her lips turn blue. She looked for a way out and found nothing but a mob turned against her by a mistake. She couldn't bear it anymore.
"End it," Jocelin pleaded in a small voice, swaying perilously on her feet.
-
A new character entering the scene! I won't spoil much else! Read on! Encore!
Praesto
The short span of daylight had already given way to darkness, again. A sigh escaped his mouth as he put the quill down. Nearby torches and candles lit the spacious room that was his study. That was a silly word for a room large enough to host a dozen people. In front of him he saw the finely penned letter from Sir Talt. That old wolf still amazed him. ''Let's see how you deal with this one Talt.'' Aldrakar grinned as he dripped crimson wax onto his latest letter and pressed his seal into it. A servant appeared almost magically at the right moment to take the scroll from him. ''To Talt, Sholan, Taran, Theon and Zajar.'' The servant bowed deeply and paused.
Turning to face the woman ''Yes?'' Aldrakar said mildly. ''There is a crowd gathered outside the Palatial Entrance. It seems Praesto Jalen has brought Lady Jocelin to the Palace, Master Aldrakar.'' She bowed again. A silence stretched as she didn't leave and Aldrakar's face turned dark. A deep intake of breath saw most of the tension leave his features. He nodded. She left him and gave a small smile.
Aldrakar pushed himself up from the chair and rolled his shoulders. His clothing a mix of practical attire but adorned with embroidery made of gold-thread. A sash of deep jade studded with silver pins around his waist, the end of it fluttering near his knee. He growled as he made himself walk downstairs and towards the palatial entrance.
Reaching the inner courtyard just beyond the General Entrance of the Palace he began to really comprehend the scale of the crowd and the situation at hand. The glow of torchlight banishing the dark of a Lurian Winter. The people of Giask where both silent and in an uproar. Some yelled and others simply looked on, wondering what would happen. The gardens were beautiful and tranquil and they were certainly alone in that elusive trait tonight. It wasn't beauty for that trait Aldrakar beheld the moment his eyes fell on Jocelin.
Jalen stood next to her and he was still working the crowd. His arms moving like a director and the people his orchestra. Aldrakar halted, he looked on from just behind the Entrance, a huge and elaborate gated archway. The impressive edifice suffused with beautification. She vanished for years. Asher and Aldrakar II missed her, she made them sad. She made me sad! His face angry. His own thoughts sounded childish as he tried to collect himself for what was to come. He had to appear now, Jalen had made certain of that. A servant darted past. A man of good physical health but compared to Aldrakar he seemed little. Taking a deep breath Aldrakar smoothed back his dark golden locks. Now. and he walked out through the Entrance.
''Behold!'' Jalen made a grandiose gesture towards Aldrakar. ''Justice! Our Lord and Master!'' He began to kneel. ''Kneel for him and know he will render onto us fair judgement!'' Jalen peeked around to see if the people were following his lead. They were.
It became quiet, so quiet that Aldrakar's footsteps seemed to bounce off the walls and not a breath was released.
''Maggot!'' Through clenched teeth. A heavy boot stamped down onto Jalen's shoulder and the small man was all but crushed under the force of Aldrakar's heel.
His hands moved fast and decisively as he pulled Jocelin close to himself and kissed her. The symbol of his action broken as he swept her off her feet and carried her in person back into the Palace. "Master! Why?! She has defied your will by taking an estate!'' Jalen croaked in stupefied rage.
Aldrakar stopped in his tracks. He raised his head up high. The glow of the torches outlining his angular jaw and giving his hair the quality of the predawn sun. A sharp jerk of his head was indication enough for the guards. Jalen was dragged from the square in front of the Palatial Entrance. Kicking and protesting all the way.
-
As written by the player of Jocelin Le Drake.
From his concealed position beyond the Entrance Aldrakar could witness the plea she made to Jalen, though perhaps it was too far to hear the exact words. She appeared a mess: her robes were askew and heavily wrinkled, her hair a twisted in a hasty knot that hardly concealed the tangles, and the bags under her eyes were only emphasized by the draining color in her face. When Aldrakar revealed himself she didn't seem to notice, and was soon the only one left standing after the crowd followed Jalen's example to kneel. The troubled dame was obviously slow to recognize the man crossing the courtyard toward them... but when she did her senses slammed her brutally back into the present. Forget that she was furious with Jalen: there was a different edge to the glare that followed, a look that somehow conveyed her embarrassment and blamed him for it. Even when he ground his boot heel into the prostrated back of her (newest) enemy she seemed to take no joy in it.
The mouth Aldrakar kissed was set in a hard line, the body he lifted tense like a coiled spring.
Jocelin did not make the walk back pleasant. Hostility radiated off her like heat from a furnace, and those golden eyes never once lifted to his own. She didn't say anything until the sound of the crowd outside grew dull.
"Put me down."
The demand preceded a struggle to free herself; Aldrakar was strong, but she was determined, and ready to fight him if he didn't. Inevitably she moved away from him, her hands covering her ears as if to shut out the world. Fat, hot tears threatened on the edges of her lashes, coming free when she finally couldn't handle it and squeezed her eyes shut. Her bottom lip trembled violently until she bit it. Alone as she could be Jocelin tried to pull herself back together, refusing to acknowledge that anyone --especially Aldrakar-- was seeing her in this state.
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The next entry of the Jocelin / Aldrakar Story. I fee sorry that not all of it will be posted on this thread as parts of their story is being played out in letters, rp's with other people, private RP's with small plot hooks and arching story lines. Its a living experience that is BM and it defies capture in a single thread hehe.
Duty calls
"Put me down." The words like red hot iron from Jocelin's lips.
The demand preceded a struggle to free herself; Aldrakar was strong, but she was determined, and ready to fight him if he didn't. Inevitably she moved away from him, her hands covering her ears as if to shut out the world. Fat, hot tears threatened on the edges of her lashes, coming free when she finally couldn't handle it and squeezed her eyes shut. Her bottom lip trembled violently until she bit it. Alone as she could be Jocelin tried to pull herself back together, refusing to acknowledge that anyone --especially Aldrakar-- was seeing her in this state.
-=-=-
The night was banished as soon as they entered the Golden Palace. It was the entrance section and an entire complex all of its own. beautiful and elaborate with so much opulence it could provide for a small Kingdom in terms of value. Aldrakar watched Jocelin. His face carved from granite. Inhaling deeply he was about to speak but just at that moment a servant hurried up to him. Aldrakar lowered his head to receive the whispered words. ''I have to go Jocelin.'' His voice flat, direct. His eyes sad. A moment he took to look at the marvelous marble floor and then raised himself to full height. ''Our home.'' He gestured around him and nodded.
At about that time more servants arrived. Some with letters, some with pieces of gear. Traveling attire and in one of the courtyards Aldrakar's Armored Skirmishers, his personal Guard, was being readied as well. With much haste they left Giask with their Lord. That was 4 days ago now.
-
The sky overhead was grey, there were no clouds to distinguish. Only the perpetual grey paste that showered the world in rain, nay, drizzle. In the morning the land would be white with frozen dew but as the day progressed some color returned. Biting winds and frosty mud that's how one could describe Maf in winter. On a small bluff Aldrakar stood. He was looking south. The Fissoans and Morekians would be there somewhere. he was conscious of the fact that the Emperor himself and a King of Luria were part of this warhost. He had tried not to overshadow their personal camps.
''M'Lord, care to spar for a bout or two? see if you still remember the Hawk's Guard?'' The sergeant said with an inviting grin. He was a good man but Aldrakar didn't feel like it. ''No. Thank you though.'' He sighed. ''I just want a battle to happen so we can go home again.'' The older man shrugged lightly and approached his Lord. ''You know, women..'' he paused for a long time, a deliberate move. ''The way I see it.'' His voice raspy and deep. ''Women M'Lord, they are good at waiting.'' The sergeant raised both his eyebrows as he tried to gauge Aldrakar's reaction.
''Is that why you have 5 children but no wife?'' Aldrakar looked at the sergeant. ''Well no, yes, don't compare yourself to me Lordship. I'm just a simple man with modest means. Women don't wait for men like me.'' The sergeant tried his best to give a winning smirk or grin, it looked terrible with the heavily stubble growing out from his chin. Patchy grey and white and some black. ''Any woman would wait for you m'Lord! They'd be bloody fools if they didn't! You are the richest man on Dwilight, A handsome devil and your body is rock-hard! Ohh and you live in a freaking palace!'' Spittle flew from his mouth as the sergeant spoke enthusiastically. ''If I had all that going for me I'd have a dozen beauties waiting on me. A different one for every day. Heck! one for every half of the day! Mellissa for the morning and Priscilla for the afternoon! Just saying..'' The sergeant ended on a self conscious note.
Aldrakar managed a smile. ''Don't you have to check up on the men, make sure they don't damage their armor or something?'' The sergeant saluted. ''Of course m'Lord, at once!'' With that the older man walked off and snapped at the first soldier he reached. Aldrakar focused his gaze southward once more. Willing the enemies of Luria to attack them so he could get the battle over with and find out if she indeed had waited or if she would be gone.
-
Written by the player of Jocelin Le Drake.
She'd lowered her hands from her ears when the servant came in, trying to distinguish at a distance what was being said. The low mutter contained no words she could make out, but after he'd finished Aldrakar announced his intent to leave. Jocelin didn't say anything, though when he'd gone she glanced reproachfully after him. The noise out front was too much for her after being paraded through the city, so she found a quiet balcony where she could watch and send her thoughts with him. She was too drained to be upset that he was leaving so soon after her return, and too embarrassed by her behavior after the fact to want him near. Still... being alone was cold comfort for the violation of spirit she'd suffered.
In the days after Aldrakar rode out her routine followed its familiar course. She isolated herself from the servants to focus on her studies. During the day she forced herself to the Academy to study rhetoric and the delivery of speech; at night, the Stars above the city eased her loneliness as they had when she'd been held against her will. With nothing to break it a pattern developed in her behavior: she started sleeping later into the day, and sitting awake with a window open to the night sky and her books open to the teachings of the Holy Prophet, Mathurin Hossefeffer. Every night she wrote down her thoughts, preparing notes for a day when she might speak with the public on her interpretations.
It was on a gloomy day when the Stars seemed unlikely to emerge that she finally found something else to distract her. Jocelin had been avoiding all but the most necessary contact with the servants of the palace; now she made herself up to wander the grounds. One of the rare few servants she could tolerate for long followed at her heels, a younger woman named Ophelia with a round face and a gentle disposition. Their positions on the social ladder and Jocelin's strict observation of it seemed the only thing preventing this creature from being a friend... until they found themselves in the garden, guarded by curious eyes by the dense flowering trees. They walked until a stone bench presented itself along the path, at which point Jocelin sat and ordered her companion to do the same. A gentle brook babbled across the path from them, and it took her only a moment to recognize the large stone on its bank as the very place where she'd slipped one time with Aldrakar to witness it. The wistful smile that broke on her face encouraged the maid beside her to speak up. Ophelia was observing the thick foliage overhead, "Pity there's no blooms in winter m'lady. I do love a Heaven's Mirror."
"There's a flower called that?" The strange name coaxed Jocelin to start a conversation with a commoner. Ophelia nodded, her boredom with her posting in the palace partially relieved with speech. "These trees... you've seen them in summer?"
Jocelin nodded. She'd seen them with Aldrakar: deep blue and purple blossoms with white or red centers, and a fragrant scent that was heady and rich. In winter the leaves remained, but there were no flowers to be seen. Ophelia's explanation continued with that silent affirmation, "You don't see them much here, but in the country you'll find fireflies attracted to these trees. The colors make for a perfect reflection of the sky."
As above, so below. Jocelin arched an eyebrow, "Are you interested in Stars, Ophelia?"
-
Written by the player of Jocelin Le Drake.
By the time she was done speaking new fervor shone in Ophelia's eyes; she was enraptured, and slow to come back into her own. Night had fallen, and the maid's eyes drank in the cloudy skies above, her expression wistful. "I wish I could see them now, m'lady." In a move completely out of character for the standoffish Jocelin she touched the girl's back gently, her golden eyes shining with unfathomable feeling. "Look at me." The common girl turned on the bench to face the priestess. Jocelin took Ophelia's hands in her own, "The Stars influence us no matter the state of the skies. If they can move us in the harsh light of day they can certainly pierce the clouds. They sing in the blood." As above, so below. In the days since Aldrakar abandoned her she'd resisted their touch, as she denied most contact when she was upset. But having calmed... really, she imagined that her resistance had only starved her of the greatest source of comfort now left her, and like a starving vagrant she was now glutted. The curtains were open; she felt the light of the Stars surging through her, and took Ophelia's quiet fervor as a sign that it was more than just a feeling.
They remained on the bench until the growing cold of a winter night drove them inside. Ophelia left Jocelin outside her room, curtsying clumsily to the lady who had opened her heart to something greater than herself. The priestess retired to bed soon after, not knowing what she had unleashed among the staff in Aldrakar's palace.
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Coming up a string of RP's between Aldrakar and the Emperor of Luria, Sholan A'Valti. The two know one another for a very long time now and funnily enough Sholan served under Aldrakar as a marshal when Aldrakar Luria's general, the Imperial Marshal. Anyhow, this RP is written by the Player of Sholan. Enjoy!
Sholan took a stroll before the coming battle, as short as it would be - stranger things had happened. He wished to survey the field and his Lurian brothers and sisters, just in case.
His Captain had told him that Aldrakar was in Maf, his unit in full attendance as well. It had been some time since he'd seen the man, longer still since he'd seen his full retinue in tow. A visit, some words over tea; it was the least he could do before all made a mess of the countryside.
He'd found his dear friend giving orders his men, as expected, and in his usual upstanding manner at that. Always a fresh breathe of elegance, Sholan swore Aldrakar was incapable of getting dirt, let alone blood, on his armor. The Gods themselves would deny the tarnish of his wardrobe if he rolled in a mass grave on purpose.
The Emperor thought about it for a moment and a sad thought came to him; Someone has to give the appearance of Chivarly on this field. The Gods knew it wasn't going to be pretty....it never was.
He called out, hoping to interrupt him, "Oi! Aldrakar! How wonderful of you to grace us with your presence!" Irritating Seoras and Aldrakar was one of the few joys Sholan had as Emperor. "I do believe one of us owes the other a drink..."
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And my first reply to tha Emprah!
Imperial Visit
He called out, hoping to interrupt him, "Oi! Aldrakar! How wonderful of you to grace us with your presence!" Irritating Seoras and Aldrakar was one of the few joys Sholan had as Emperor. "I do believe one of us owes the other a drink..." - Sholan, the Emperor of all the Lurias
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His legs encased in some of the finest Giaskian tempered steel leg-guards. Trailing down said limbs did pristine, smooth sabbatons take over in the duty of covering his feet in the best protection money could buy. Vambracers depicting roaring lions fashioned from leaf-gold and their fangs the fingers of the accompanying gauntlet. Binding these pieces together was a masterwork Gothic breastplate of a dozen, dozen pieces. Each exquisitely decorated with gold and engravings but overall still very smooth and without many ridges were a weapon might get caught.
The winter wind played with Aldrakar's rich brown cape, finished with an embroidered border of gold thread. ''Sholan! are you turning grey brother?'' A huge grin was the only expression capable of matching those words. ''Or are those simply the earliest flakes of snow today?''
''Ahh my presence, yes, its indeed been quite a while. I would proffer matters of state but you would know the extend of that and find it lacking. No, I've spend some time with my sons as well and also trying to understand the new governments of our enemies. So many changed its key players.'' Shrugging. ''From what I hear among the men it seems we have time to share a drink or two. It's not like we're going to have a battle today or tomorrow.'' Aldrakar gave a small smile.
''Marc!'' Marc used to be Aldrakar's squire but has since been Knighted. Not that it changed overly much in their relationship. ''Bring us some wine please.'' The young man, although resplendent in his own full plate armor still jumped and scurried but didn't fail to produce the requested wine along with 2 goblets. Strange perhaps was the fact that Aldrakar chose to keep this exchange between himself and Sholan within the line of sight of the public eye. At the edge of the bluff where he had made camp there was a small wooden table and it was here that he offered the wine to Sholan. Not, as most might have expected, inside his private tent. A massive structure all by itself.
Pouring the crimson liquid, Aldrakar looked up at Sholan for a brief moment. ''I've met Jocelin again.'' He took both goblets in hand and offered one to Sholan. ''She's in a bad state and I might have to dismiss one of my most promising servants because of it all.''
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As written by the player of Sholan.
Sholan sat at the table, and sipped the wine that was freshly poured, "Grey? Probably true! Considering you all keep starting fights and I spend all day reading about them from angry rulers..." The Emperor laughed, it was hard for him to take the League seriously any more. Days like these, where they march to attack and retreat before arrival, did little to encourage him. "I do feel the days growing on me lately"
News of Joceline's well being bothered Sholan. As Ellyn's sister, Joceline's well-being was something of a concern for him. He found it funny how things tended to get messy when a woman was involved in life. One of those mysteries, and battles, that men were always debating.
"Unfortunate to say the least. Hopefully her state is something you can attend? If not, I'm sure Ellyn will be happy to yell at us both about it later" He remembered that he was supposed to already be on his way back to Sulorte at this point. "She has a fair bit to say to me already..."
Grunting a begrudging acceptance to his future state, he finished the remaining majority of his glass of wine in a single drink.
"Anything I can do to help in regards to Joceline?"
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My response.
Imperial Assistance
"Anything I can do to help in regards to Joceline?" Sholan, the Emperor of all the Luria's, after downing the remainder of what was left of his wine.
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Aldrakar shrugged, inspected the wine inside his gobled for a moment and then responded. ''I think she hates me.'' His eyes locked with Sholan. ''So.. I'll probably lose not only one of my most promising officials but also Jocelin herself.'' Taking a pensive sip of the wine Aldrakar put the goblet down on the table. Half of the wine still left but he pushed it away from him anyway. Swallowing the tannin rich liquid making him squint his eyes.
''You look terrible. You've admitted as much already but you look 10 bad, long winters older than the last time we met. You aren't overindulging are you?'' He took a deliberate look at Sholan's stomach. ''We could always train together. Batting swords together does wonders for the body and the spirit.'' A troupe of soldiers marched by them, the commanding officer shouting far too loud and his mood more sour than raw lemons.
''I don't think you can help me with this one Shol. Although, maybe you could explain to her, in person perhaps.. why I had to rush out on her to get to the front? To sit here idly while our enemies bravely flee before the sight of our banners?'' The satirical aspect of the whole situation made him grin as he rested his face in the palm of his hand.
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As written by the player of Sholan.
He glowered at the comment, "For me to indulge, let alone overdo such a thing, would require me to sit still for more than a few days. I spend more time eating trail breads and jerky and marching the countryside than I do drinking myself to sleep in a plate of pork." A small chuckle escaped him, "I probably have to be the least indulgent ruler of Luria, possibly Dwilight, in some time. I don't think I've had the pleasure of throwing my titular 'Imperical Weight' around more than a couple times, if at all. I don't even remember the last time I stayed the night in the Palace..."
Sparring with Aldrakar was an embarrassing thought, to say the least. "I'm a terrible swordsman, that's what I keep Hildric around for" He said, nodding in the general direction of the Captain - who was currently occupied with one of Aldrakar's men. Captain Hildric gave a distracted look in their direction at the mention of his name, but continued his discussion. "He's twice the swordsman I'd ever be, I only ever learned to fight dirty. Boot knives and alleyways...how terribly uncouth of an Emperor!"
"If it makes you feel any better, you know how hard it's been for Ellyn and I to spend any time together. Gods, she was nearly assassinated the last time we were alone for any length of time. Rynn's house is filled with fiesty, loud, and headstrong members - the women most of all. I doubt she hates you, but I'm sure you're like to get as much - if not more - of a sounding from her next you see her as I will from Ellyn. I don't know what happened before you left, but if it didn't end in her getting stabbed then I'm sure it isn't nearly as bad as you think. She's been through a lot these past few years, she probably just wants some stability for once. Don't we all?"
Sholan poured himself another glass of wine and smiled, "You're here now, she's at home calming down...hopefully. Ellyn might see her while we're away, spreading some sisterly gossip," he paused for a moment, "She proposed, of all things..."
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aaaand, my reply to tha Emprah.
Imperial Wedding Plans
Sholan poured himself another glass of wine and smiled, "You're here now, she's at home calming down...hopefully. Ellyn might see her while we're away, spreading some sisterly gossip," he paused for a moment, "She proposed, of all things..."
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Looking up and eyes wide ''Ellyn Proposed to you?!'' Aldrakar threw his head back and from his white, tooth filled mouth came a roaring laugh. Footmen and sergeants alike paused to look up at two of the most powerful men in the Empire. Aldrakar slowly collected himself again. A helpful indexfinger picking away tears from his eyes and cheeks. ''She what? got impatient?'' Aldrakar gave Sholan a jab on the shoulder as he snickered.
Taking a few deep breaths he attempted a more serious tone. ''Tell you what Shol, if you do get the Golden Shackle you must allow me to host you at the Golden Palace. It's only fitting!'' A thought struck him there and then. ''But erm, I know the Empire doesn't adhere to primogeniture or any similar style of succession.'' Aldrakar allowed a small pause. ''Isn't she a bit old to have children or does that not matter to you?''.
After digesting this latest bit of new from his friend, the Emprah as he called him mentally, Aldrakar reached for the half full goblet of wine he discarded earlier and downed its content.
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As written by the Glorious Player of Sholan.
Aldrakar was busy laughing while Sholan rolled his eyes at him, "Har har, you're so supportive..." Maybe she did get impatient, wasn't as if he hadn't thought about it himself. "It was something we'd talked about a long time ago to be honest. We thought it would happen out of politics, when that didn't happen we had other plans. I'd expected the war to end first - to be honest..."
He told Aldrakar of his old plans; namely how he wanted to announce such a wedding on the eve of the war ending, and the dawn of his leaving the Throne. "Always seemed like good timing for everything, I never intended to stay Emperor forever after all. Shackle some new poor soul with the 'new, peaceful, Dwilight' and Lurian relations toward a broken League."
He continued to nurse his wine, "But of course, if you wish to host such an event I wouldn't deny you. I'm sure it would be a wonderful celebration." Children were something he'd never thought too much about, "I've spent so much of my life thinking I always had time to worry about it later, I grew old quickly it would seem. We're both probably too old to have children, but at this point I'd settle for a night alone that doesn't get interrupted with war drums. To be fair, I never saw myself as the marrying type. I always expected to die on a battlefield, now I'm always thinking about how upset she'd be if I didn't return."
"Ellyn always jokes about how we'd be related by law if things worked out that way. I always joke about how much it irritates Rynn that both of his daughters came to Luria, during the war no less..." Sholan smiled a bit at that last part, the enjoyment in the spite of it probably an affect of the wine...maybe.
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The Rp between Aldrakar and Sholan ended as the Army moved on. However, it did give me an opportunity to write a bit about how Aldrakar felt about the next patch of dirt they were all fighting over.
Nuas
The big, bright light that was sun was washing the world in fat rays as it climbed the ever distant horizon. ''Doesn't look like much, does it Marc?'' Aldrakar looked around the 4th village they'd passed this morning. Over a hundred well armored and well trained men at his back, all of them wearing his livery. Marc rode up to his Liege lord. The young man was doing well in his new role of Knight, Aldrakar thought to himself. ''No it doesn't Lord Aldrakar.'' Marc sounded more confident with every passing day. He had to smile at that.
''Alright! Stop here men. This village will do as well as the next.'' Aldrakar turned his big destrier around. ''Inform the locals that they once more serve Luria and that there will be a temporary tax relief for the duration of the Liberation Celebrations.'' He waited a moment for their reaction, when none was apparent he continued. ''You! Estrix, take your men and remove any Fissoan Flags you see and replace them with Lurian one's.'' The man saluted.
''Well don't just stand there, go! Do what I told you to do.'' Aldrakar couldn't help but laugh and the men grinned sheepishly. They had all expected a fight, a bloody fight at that but instead fate had liberation feasts in store for them. As the soldiers dispersed Aldrakar sighed. I left Giask for this? Hovels and huts? He shook his head and headed for the village elder, the man would have to be replaced and a new elder appointed.
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Hey there! What you are about to read is a side branch of the Aldrakar Renodin Story. Its written entirely by other people than myself. All credit goes to the people that wrote it and I am very grateful for their contributions to the history, backstory and flavor that is my character.
As written by the player of Jocelin Le Drake
Jocelin was glad to hear that Seoras had finally arrived. She wasted no time in preparing herself for a visit. After much consider she dressed modestly in a dark blue gown, the border stitched with the familiar patterns that the Bloodstars were often depicted in. One of her maids plaited her hair with a length of red ribbon, and applied something to conceal the yellowing bruise on her cheek. It remained faintly visible underneath, and she was careful to arrive at a later hour when the dark might conceal some of the mark. The guard she presented herself to announced her arrival to his lord before allowing her to enter; her great height forced her to duck slightly upon making it through the tent flap. Jocelin curtsied, "Thank you for meeting me, Penitent Protector. I trust the journey was uneventful?" Though the need to observe the formalities was great in her, it was clear that she was anxious to be done with them, and that something weighed heavily on her mind.
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As written by the player of Seoras Madigan Nifelleisca
Seoras looked up at Jocelin's ducking and curtsy. Had nobility grown taller or was it just the westerners? Perhaps he might have the tent adjusted. It hadn't been the first time he'd had to enlarge an entrance way. Then again, he hadn't use of a tent lately, usually residing within a temple.
Considering the public nature of the slap within Viscount Theon's camp, rumours had begun to circulate amongst local minor nobility and the attendants of those more prominent nobility within Girich. Seoras had been busy writing, away from the various serving staff, and yet to meet with any merchants or local nobility, so was still unaware as to the extent of the situation.
Seoras chuckled softly at her greeting, standing, and bowing his head to her in respect, "I hope the same of your journey, Invocator?" Motioning to the mats, lighting some incense, "shall we sit?"
He could tell she was anxious. He sank to the ground, keeping his feet planted upon the ground while kneeling forward upon his knees. Sensing her discomfort with the position, he relaxed the pose by moving his toes from supporting his weight to resting under him. As they sat across from each other, he rested his hand upon her knee with a look of compassion and continued, "To ease one's mind in times of turmoil, a meditation upon the stars is suggested". Withdrawing his hand to rest upon his knee, he instructed her in the method.
Repeat within your mind the three Prophets' names - Mathurin, Rabisu, Malus. Focus your mind upon a quality they share as you chant, I shall focus upon their solitude, not letting your mind drift from that quality, constantly reinstructing your mind back to that quality.
And so they sat, Seoras with eyes closed. As the incense finished its burning, his eyes opened, smiling. "And what is it that has brought you to me?"
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As written by the player of Jocelin Le Drake.
Jocelin nodded to both, silent as she followed Seoras' example. She too sank down, the gesture clearly practice by the ease with which she made it look graceful. Her posture did not relax until his did, and stiffened again not a moment later when he rested his hand on her knee. But his clear compassion had her smiling gratefully. "Thank you, Protector." At the suggestion of meditation she looked to the nearest censer. The lazy trails of smoke that drifted upward held her attention while she listened to his instructions. "To be honest I've not studied them as people. I learn about the Prophets through their writings." She needn't have qualified that, but being in his presence made her feel slightly foolish. I don't know them well enough to focus on a shared quality between them. But I imagine they'd have to have been kind. Jocelin saw that Seoras had closed his eyes and quickly followed suit.
The minutes stretched out. Tiny things invaded on her meditations: the wind had kicked up outside, and the tent flapped in response. Perhaps there was dust from the desert involved, for one of the guards without sneezed, only just audible through the thick fabric. The incense had multiple notes that she resisted identifying, pushing it out along with anything that was not the three Prophets or her chosen quality. It took her some time before she'd slipped down to that place where all else was excluded... and all too soon Seoras was speaking, drawing her back up. She was slow to open her eyes again, and it was clear that she'd calmed... for a time.
"I can't stand to be near Aldrakar." Jocelin flinched, ashamed to have finally said it aloud. Her cheeks burned with embarrassment: for a woman who strove so hard to be the epitome of nobility, to admit that anything might be wrong was completely out of character. Before he could say anything she continued, "He regards you his friend... and I thought you could help me. I love him dearly, but for weeks now I haven't been able to stomach the thought of seeing him. He's so distant--" She either failed to see the irony of that statement or refused to acknowledge it, "--and focused on his duties. It's admirable, but I don't want admirable. I want..." She trailed off, dropping her eyes from his. Jocelin's hands twisted anxiously in her lap. In the short time she'd been in his presence she'd shown more emotion than she had in a week, barring her altercation with the Viscount. But she couldn't bring herself to describe the desperation in her for affection, for the smallest gesture of kindness to be thrown her way, even scraps. It was why she'd reacted the way she did when he touched her.
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As written by the player of Seoras Madigan Nifelleisca.
"I can't stand to be near Aldrakar"
Seoras laughed lightly at this, amused, but stopping himself at Jocelin's flinching. From her letters prior to his arrival, he had thought Viscount Theon troubled her, and so to a degree, he was caught off guard. And yet this was not the first amusement, for the letters he had been reading from Aldrakar most recently had also contributed to his humour at her statement.
"He regards you his friend... and I thought you could help me. I love him dearly, but for weeks now I haven't been able to stomach the thought of seeing him. He's so distant and focused on his duties. It's admirable, but I don't want admirable. I want..."
Seoras nodded slowly, as a stereotypical therapist would in another time and place. A smirk crept back upon his lips upon the words distant and duties.
"...someone to hold you close, for you as a noblewoman, and not as your recorded deeds within a book?" Seoras continued from Jocelin's words. "Aldrakar is my oldest, dearest friend. Yes, there are family friends who have stood by me longer than I've known Aldrakar, but he has always been my personal companion, even if our paths have diverged physically and spiritually."
Seoras exhaled, selecting a pomegranate slice for his enjoyment, "Yet he is," pausing, "distant and firm. Even as his friend, we are often more focused on duty," laughing lightly again, "But he often tells me I am too focused and impersonal. The irony of you coming to me should provide a good teaching aid into my next meditation. And how was it? It seems many don't meditate as much as the first prophet promoted in the early Church."
He sampled the pomegranate briefly, taking care to not pause lest he not return the conversation, "To Aldrakar though..."
He rose abruptly, striding to an inner tent flap, unlocking and opening what sounded like a drawer, and returning within three minutes of departing, letters in hand. Handling one to her, carefully folded to prevent sight of the topmost passage, his finger pointed out:
Your religious meaning or intend in my words is lost on me. There is no chasm in the faith, only different ways of seeing things. You praise blood and slaughter and I do not want it. You would urge peasants to rise up against Knights and be butchered. This is folly. I dread the day you will stand upon a high rock and with a mad gleam in your eyes cheer on a great massacre below in the shadow of your high perch.
Speaking again, "he has long considered me filled by the Maddening, as you evidently see. And what was it I wrote him that brought this reply, but to meditate upon the meaning of 'in a ravine so deep that in a dozen lifetimes should could not hope to climb out'? I wonder if it is his mind drawn to the Maddening over and over."
He shook his head at himself, "No, that is not my point. The point I intend is that Aldrakar, our dearly beloved, is a strict and firm man. Even as his friend, this is so. He has always pushed and compelled me onto a better path, and I thank him for it, even for his false vilifications of myself for even those are teaching obstacles we must both overcome. And if you were to ask him, he would say the same of myself and duty, to lighten myself, where you have come to me in earnest search of forming that deeper connection with Aldrakar."
Finally, with a twinkle in his eyes, "And, while it is of more personal nature than I might feel comfortable sharing, he was quite remiss in his correspondence to myself to have not had your company upon his return to Giask. He mentioned an incident with a servant who Aldrakar had had disciplined for that servant's mistreatment of you, above his station in life? As usual though, was called by the Emperor to the frontlines of duty, " Seoras mentally strengthened the memory, for a later time, of Aldrakar at the front lines, not holding courts in much-needed regions, "But this all tells me that his heart does yearn for you, was even dealt a blow by missing your company upon his return, even as he places his oaths quite highly, as one should."
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As written by the player of Jocelin Le Drake.
"... Someone to hold you close, for you as a noblewoman, and not as your recorded deeds within a book?"
Jocelin nodded, her blush intensifying, "Yes." Seoras continued, and she remained fixated on him, drinking in his words. She almost interrupted when he called Aldrakar distant and firm but held her tongue... until he mentioned how ironic it was that she'd come to him. "You're--" You're the Protector and his friend. Who else could I talk to? Ellyn would have listened, but would she have had Seoras' insight into the man that was Aldrakar? She doubted it, which is why Jocelin had asked to see the leader of her faith. He was supposed to help her.
Seoras stepped out. Jocelin was left on her own to reflect on earlier meditations, and by the time Seoras had returned she was up and pacing about. It was a stretch to say she'd been snooping... but when he reentered she was quick to put down whatever she'd been into. She took the letter he extended and followed his finger across the page; when she'd finished Jocelin made a face. "Does it seem sometimes that he vilifies everything that disagrees with him?"
"I don't want to talk about what happened the day he rode out," She continued, "And he's got no reason to be upset that I wasn't there." It was a bald-faced lie, and it was clear she knew it. There might have been more forthcoming if a messenger hadn't been announced; he came in quickly through the tent flap, ignorant of her presence. "News from the front Your Grace. Sir Lyrus has slain a D'Haran, Margrave Rynn--"
"What?" The color drained from her face. The messenger repeated himself, seemingly unaware of his word's effects on her. For it was clear that they filled her with panic: her breath quickened, and she started to tremble, rapidly losing the strength to stand. Jocelin sank to the pillowed floor like it had pulled her down. "Father?" Her voice was small, immediately child-like at the news, but it was clear from the gathering tension in her frame that a scream was coming.
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As written by the player of Seoras Madigan Nifelleisca.
Seoras received the news with shock. A joke? A cruel one, if so. And anyone that knew Seoras knew that Kendal Forbes' death would strike more effectively than Rynn's, should any attempt to fool him with such news. Victory over an old d'haran enemy, even a rival great house! The particular oddities of a former Light of SA slaying one whose marriage had been officiated by the First Prophet. Had the former SA priest attended the wedding in Mimer? Another heroic death for Dwilight, the bloodcycle flowing stronger. A divine spark passing from this plane of existence, for now. An opportune moment for a long-deserved announcement. Memories of Pierre and Aldrakar. All, in a flash of her response and the messenger's repeating himself.
And then, Jocelin sank before him, a meek wounded sound escaping her lips, but unheard in its specific nature. Quickly, he tossed the messenger some silver coins of gratitude and waved him begone. As he looked down upon Jocelin, bewilderment passed yet again. And then he accepted the moment.
Kneeling in front of her, he started to reach out for her hands, but pulled back, looked her in the eye, nodding ever so slightly, then looked upward and screamed.
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As written by the player of Jocelin Le Drake.
He's dead. Her heart and mind were numb, those two words a chant between her ears. He's dead. Oh Stars, he's dead. She was vaguely aware of the messenger leaving and Seoras joining her on the floor. He reached forward but recoiled, and before she could unload her grief he did it for her. Jocelin started, startled out of her growing panic by his howl. Like a dam she broke: she flung herself into his chest, clinging like a shipwrecked survivor. Her choking sobs were clearly audible outside the tent, and for many long minutes she was inconsolable, heartbroken by loss.
After a time her crying quieted, descending finally to a whimper. Jocelin leaned away from Seoras, hugging herself as she broke contact. She seemed to be trying to get a hold of her situation, though it was clear that she was struggling with it. "Where's Aldrakar?" She wanted him, needed him, her anger overridden by the familiar pain of loss. Another thought quickly invaded; Jocelin's fear became obvious. "Ljúfa!"
Rynn wouldn't let Jocelin take her to Luria Nova, and he refused to send her with an escort once Jocelin had established herself. And now her daughter was alone in D'Hara, the ward of a dead man. There was no way she could go sailing into Port Raviel to bring Ljúfa home... but there was no stopping an escort now. Those golden eyes of hers looked up from the floor, her desperation obvious. "He can't keep my girl from me anymore, Seoras. Rynn was afraid for her when I came here, and afraid of the war even when he was assured I was safe. Ljúfa is alone now." That seemed to override the rest of her fears: that her daughter might be suffering greater than herself, the only father she'd ever known slain. Thinking about it only made the panic rise once more, though she fought it down a little more easily than before.
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An Rp written by the Player of Ellyn Coquard. All credits for this Rp go to her.
The days blurred together for a bit. Just a day or so after Rynn's death, another anniversary loomed over her head. As Elly brushed her hair, sitting in her shift, the long angry scar from her shoulder down her side glared at her in the early morning light. Her hand started to tremble and the tears started to flow as the memories flooded back like they were yesterday, and not six years ago...
The ivory brush clattered to the table, only causing her to jump slightly. "Where has the time gone?" she asked her reflection slowly. The tears continued to pour silently down her cheeks. "How many more deaths of friends till this ends?" Six years ago to the day Elly was elected Prime Minister of D'Hara. As the sun rose on the day of the end of the referendum, a battle ensued at the Lighthouse. Most of the battle was still hazy in her mind. Elly remembered a looming figure over Pierre, and watched as he was cut down in front of her eyes. She vaguely recalls rushing to his aid, only to find herself in the middle of something she couldn't escape. Whether it was another blow by Aldrakar that caught her as well as Pierre, she will never know. Wiping her cheeks she shook her head at her reflection. "I never want to know...." she all but whispered. The wound had sliced her shoulder to hip, some spots deeper than others. It was touch and go, almost a month passed until her fever broke and she even opened her eyes. When she did, Rynn was there.. tending to her like a child, barking orders left and right. Thankfully she was not replaced as Prime Minister, and events unfolded as they did. A soft sob caught in her throat. How could a wound like hers keep her on death's door, but allowed Rynn to pull her back, yet Marco and Ulfang couldn't even attempt to pull Rynn back from the stars?
Elly picked up her brush and twisted it in her hands. It wasn't fair... she threw the brush with all her might at the looking glass, shattering it; watching the pieces hit the floor. Her maids rushed in, and with a look Elly sent them scurying away. She didn't need them, she could dress herself. She didn't want them... she wanted to be alone, yet she didn't want to be alone. The rooms had become stiffling for her, and it was almost dusk so she did what she had done the past dawn and dusks before. Donning a simple black gown, she left her hair down loose she made her way to the pier. Every dawn and dusk her ritual was the same. Kleio had brought a letter from Sholan saying he was on his way by sea, but the seas had been rough as of late. "I cannot stomach another loss," she lifted her face up to the stars, not knowing if anyone even cared. Since Rynn's death, she now feared every battle, every report.
As the sun began to set on the horizon, the crimson rays fading lighter as the sun went to sleep in the sea, Elly had watchful eyes out. Wrapping her arms around her knees she prayed and hoped that this visit to the pier would give her what she wanted, to make it so she wasn't alone... all she needed right now was him.
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The forum warns me that there hasn't been any new posts in at least 120 days, Before ohh poster. I'll take that warning and gently tuck it away again. New text to be saved for posterity.
Aldrakar's Return
Looking out over the bay of Giask, the last light of the day was making a golden mirror out of the still surface of the Euschean sea. Trying as he might, he could see very little difference from the olden days. Still crowded with merchant ships, still a magnificent spectacle of both nature and of seamanship and, as always, it was still home.
Pulling the door closed behind him a myriad of thoughts bounced around in his head. Estate, Land, Titles.. Gold. He waved a hand in front of his face as he averted his eyes. Thoughts cannot be dispelled as easily as pipe smoke but one can try. The sounds of the city greeted him as the university was left behind and the noble quarters came ever closer. ''They still sell the finest silks and silver eh?'' Aldrakar replied to a wealthy looking merchant who was clearly trying to unload some fine silver jewelry to him. ''You do realize this is the Golden City hmm? Perhaps try in Askileon.'' A barely perceptible tone of ridicule and mirth accompanying the words from Aldrakar's mouth.
The merchant looked taken aback, opened his mouth to respond but closed it again as he locked eyes with Aldrakar. A knowing stare both kind and stern silencing him. Approaching the Golden Palace Aldrakar felt particularly naked. No retinue, starved of the usual opulence and in the absence of a host of capable fighting men in his wake. The Great Arched entrance to the Golden Palace lay ahead.
The guards spied him out quickly enough. They weren't too quick to dismiss him for they could see he was a man of some importance. If not by his clothing then certainly by his demeanor and stance. ''I'm sorry sir but visitation hours are over for the day. The Emperor and his staff shall resume in the morrow and may receive fresh audiences then.'' The words that greeted Aldrakar as he just finished ascending the white marble steps up towards the main entrance. Taking a moment to drink in the sights and deliberately waiting a measured amount of time to reply, Aldrakar's eyes eventually found those of the guard.
Frustration welled as he once again had to hear people desiring audiences, late in the freaking day. ''Always the same. People never can keep an appointment.'' Malian muttered to himself. Grabbing his helmet from his desk and expertly strapped it on. Rising to his feet he carefully touched the feathered plume crest that marked him as Captain of the Palatial Gate. A fierce smirk appeared on his face that quickly faded as military discipline kicked in. Heavy footfalls announced his presence to the men at the main entrance.
''Right, you heard my men. Begone for the day and reschedual your audience. His esteemed, Imperial Highness may have time for you tomorrow. Now go..'' Malian uttered in a strong and singularly directive voice. The last two words trailing off into silence as his eyes fell on the man in front of him. Horror and dumbstruck stupidity warred with discipline and clearly won as he face showed all the emotions. ''Emperor Aldrakar..'' Reverence abounded. Almost in equal measure as the quickness he displayed going down on one knee.
The rest was announcements, rooms being arranged and messages send to the realm's nobility. An Emperor of the past returned.
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A wee little Rp. Just big enough to spark the imagination I hope. My intend was to provide a starting point for a mutually written RP. I wrote it following a IC letter invitation to visit. Not sure if the person in question actually wants to Rp but to the wind with caution!
Arriving at Manor Caesara
Men laughed as they often do when they feel at ease. The unliving they had left behind. The Town called Irvington had survived two waves of the bone horrors these last few days. With bows and good arrows one can do a lot. These men proved it. That, and they were damned good with a blade.
''Oi! Don't make me come tear your ear off.'' An appraising eye spied for further signals, failing to spot any, additional words would have to do. ''I Will! I'm telling you, I will!'' The man startled at a sudden tap on his left shoulder and lept up a full arm's length into the air. Laughter ensued from the sixty or so other men. fifty nine if you want to be exact. Number sixty wore an impish expression on his face as he fastened his sheath back onto his belt. The instrument with which he tapped the Captain on the shoulder. ''Why you little inbred..'' the torent continued and as it did, the laughter evolved into taunting and braying, jeering was the word perhaps. Aldrakar didn't mind. He let the thoughts wander through his mind as he rode at the front of the company of men. The smallest of smirks, ever on his lips.
Twisting his body in the saddle to face the men behind him. ''Shape up! If you want to continue to be worthy of my name and be the Rendorian Elite then act the part.'' Aldrakar let his gaze rest on them for a moment, the fact his horse kept on walking must've made it look comical. None laughed now though. The men, warriors one and all of high caliber, quickly organized themselves into a presentable fashion. A double column starting right behind Aldrakar. ''Hgmm, better.'' Returning smirks appeared on the faces of the men and Aldrakar winked.
Ahead lay the Manor of House Caesara, the traditional residence of the Lord or, in this case, Lady of Cadier. Caesara being the current dynasty in control of the region. As it came into view Aldrakar wondered, what did he know of the Lady Vespesia Caesara? Woefully little was his conclusion. On his left, some hundred paces give or take, a great herd of wild horses rode past. Their chestnut, bay and dun coats shining in the sun and beautifully meshed with the verdant background. A landscape of unending flowing hills and meadows, dotted with wildflowers and tough brush.
With the herd of wild horses disappearing from sight, the Manor took center stage. Arriving at the spacious central court which sat at the front of the impressive building, the captain gave the order to stand at formation. A thing entirely unnecessary and completely for show. The men were highly disciplined and preformed flawlessly. When they needed to of course and this was one such an occasion. Aldrakar nudged his horse, a black stallion of rather large physique, to the center of the square and dismounted with ease.
As the Lady's servants were well aware of the approaching Noble they were fully prepared. As such Aldrakar was initially greeted by the Manor's Steward. Whom informed him that the Lady would be receiving him presently. Aldrakar smiled at the man and gave him a small nod. All the while pulling off his riding gloves, tucking them into his belt.
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The response from the player of Vespesia Caesara. I had some trouble figuring out if this was the player's first time RPing like this. If it is, its pretty damn good.
Vespesia heard her steward Otto greet the visiting Royal Aldrakar downstairs. This was the first opportunity she had to formally entertain a visiting fellow Noble of Luria, and she hoped to make a good impression with the former Emperor. Although she never would have admitted it, she had fretted most of the morning over the proper wear for the meeting. A finely cut dress given to her by her father? Her full armor, black as her hair? No, she had decided simply to have her simple leathers, with her sword at her waste, a classic look, but sometimes those were the best.
She quietly began to walk downstairs and saw Aldrakar removing his riding clothes and cleaning off the cloying dust of the road. "Royal Aldrakar, well met sir, I welcome you to Southwatch Manor. I do hope you will stay a while and share my food and fire." She said these things smiling as she had been trained to do in her youth, before her father had given up trying to raise her a true genteel lady. "I do hope you will be able to join me for some lunch, my steward, Otto, has prepared some roast pheasant for your arrival, and I have brought forth the last and best of my last wine from Flowrestown, I should like to sit and talk if you please, to get to know each other."
As she said this, she gestured toward the dining room, having been prepared with all the amenities the country estate could offer. A small fire burned brightly in its hearth on the far wall, over which a large painting of the West Divide mountains hung. This painting was paired with another, a landscape painting that had been in the estate when she had arrived. A wide open plain with a bright blue sky, and wild horses, a staple in Cadier, were the subject of the painting.
"I would be delighted for you to join me, Royal Aldrakar."
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aaaand, my response to her suggestion to go into dinning room for lunch. I really liked how the two paintings were portrayed. So, I went a bit over the top and looked at the respective region' description and pretended my character knew about the land intimately. Such a showoff!
Lunch, for two
She gestured toward the dining room, having been prepared with all the amenities the country estate could offer. A small fire burned brightly in its hearth on the far wall, over which a large painting of the West Divide mountains hung. This painting was paired with another, a landscape painting that had been in the estate when she had arrived. A wide open plain with a bright blue sky, and wild horses, a staple in Cadier, were the subject of the painting.
"I would be delighted for you to join me, Royal Aldrakar." Vespesia Caesara
His eyes roved the length and breath of lady in front of him. He blinked once, twice, ending up coughing into his hand as he tried to hide a mischievous smile. ''Yes, lunch. It sounds delicious.'' Having recovered from his initial but hopefully, subtle, shock. ''As you already seem to know my name, I would feel silly for introducing myself again.'' He looked thoughtful for a moment. ''Perhaps it would be best if I awaited the questions you might have for me.'' With that he walked into the dining room. Taking his time to appreciate the decorations. He stopped at the dual paintings, looking up at them. ''This ridge here, would that be in the northern regions of the West Divide?'' His hand had involuntarily already moved to indicate the section of the painting he was referring to. ''Near the pastures that so surprisingly feed all the of the mountain people?'' He glanced back at Lady Vespesia.
A soft bell rang and quickly following it, staff entered the room. They moved like silk. Soft, flowing and unobtrusive. They waited a moment for their chief butler to make a measured gesture that indicated for the two Nobles to take a seat. Aldrakar took his que from that and moved to pull out a chair for Lady Vespesia. Naturally he had selected a chair opposite the one he desired to sit at. ''Please.'' After the act he smoothly went over to his side of the table and sat himself down. ''Wonder what it is that your cooks have prepared for us. By the smell of it there is some sort of fowl under one of those lids.'' He offered a disarming smile. ''Please, don't think of me as some sort of ancient figure of legend. That would not do justice to history and I would never be able to live up to the expectation.'' He paused a moment to let his words sink in.
''While it was surprising to have been invited here, I must admit I am very happy you did so. Judging by your choice of clothes, you aren't the typical Lady. Then again, few people are what they seem. So with that said, ask me whatever you'd like. The old part was true after all.''
And so Aldrakar sat down with Lady Vespasia for lunch. His stomach more happy with the prospect than his mind might be willing to admit. Tough warrior mentality they call it., rubbish.
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As written by the player of Vespesia Caesara.
Of Lunches and Exiles;
Vespesia sat with Aldrakar for a short while as Otto quietly darted to and fro with is small army of cooks, servants, and waiters. before long, wine was poured, and Vespesia allowed herself to drink as much as she could politely could.
"Royal Aldrakar, I am glad to finally meet with one of my new fellow Nobles of Luria, away from the field. I must admit I watched with great interest from the upper floor as your soldiers came into the area of the manor. They handle themselves well. Perhaps while you are here, my retinue could perform some training exercises along side them. Many of my men are recently obtained in Giask, however there are a few good men left who traveled with me from Swordfell, to Westfold, and finally here, and I would like to get those men acquainted with the proper fighting techniques here in Luria."
As she spoke, the various house staff had finished presenting their meal: roast pheasant stuffed with wild berries and topped with thime, freshly baked bread complete with aged cheese purchased during Vespesia's last visit to Giask, alongside these, fresh cucumbers and small tomatoes from her garden, all prepared under the watchful eye of the manor's chef, who in turn operated under the more watchful eye of Otto.
Vespesia cut the pheasant and served a good portion to Aldrakar, who nodded in appreciation and began to eat with some excitement. Vespesia knew well that travelling was hungry work, and allowed a small at the shared experience of all men and women who took up arms. "As I previously told you in my letter, I enjoy frank and honest speech and so would like to perhaps clarify a few questions that you orothers of the Nobility of Luria might have about myself and my fellow Swordfellian exiles. In your letter you stated that you were worried that we might be hesitant to give up past allegiances, and past grudges. I can only speak for myself, of course, but I rather like it here in Luria. My father used to tell me stories of the great Empire to the south when I was a girl, indeed I believe you might have been the subject of one or two of the more raucous tales."
"We take our oaths quite seriously, Royal Aldrakar, and so I can assure you that we are loyal to the Emperor and to Luria. We wish merely to give our swords and fealty to a realm that will accept us, and I will not forget that Luria has given us that home. I am happy to be a part of the reclamation of Luria Nova's ancestral holdings. It was good to be out in the field again, protecting townsfolk from the scourge of monsters and the vile undead. I have traveled too far, come over too many mountains, slept too many nights in the rain beside dwindling fires to hold old grudges of the past. I am no longer a daughter of Swordfell, indeed I wish to be a woman of Luria!"
"I propose a toast!" Both Vespesia and Aldrakar raised their dwindling glasses of wine. "To new homes and to new brothers. To the reclamation of Luria and to better and more glorious days ahead." Both of those seated finished the last of their glasses, and despite her best efforts, a bit of blush appeared on Vespesia's cheeks from the rush that only good wine can give.
Their plates now emptied, Vespesia gracefully, or as gracefully as a slightly tipsy woman in leathers with a sword can be, stood up and said, "Of the many things I was surprised to find upon my arrival to the manor was a wonderful garden. Perhaps you would like to join me for a short walk? The summer flowers are blooming beautifully."
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I took the liberty to set another stage, this time the garden. My aim was to give a rich ambiance which at the same time would offer potential places to go to or to include as aids for the other writer. Enjoy!
The Garden in Ochre
Their plates now emptied, Vespesia gracefully, or as gracefully as a slightly tipsy woman in leathers with a sword can be, stood up and said, "Of the many things I was surprised to find upon my arrival to the manor was a wonderful garden. Perhaps you would like to join me for a short walk? The summer flowers are blooming beautifully."
His stomach was full and throughout his body a warm and sluggish feeling was spreading. Thoughts wandered towards a very comfortable sofa, with a blanket and a soft pillow. Eyelids started to droop. However, he was at a formal meeting. Well, formal was just a word for it. A better word was perhaps informal, or casual.. friendly? Aldrakar lifted his head to the sound of Vespesia's words. ''The Garden? why yes, I could do with some fresh air.'' His tone so obviously a tailored lie, it might've sounded comical. He allowed himself to stretch and offered a wry grin. ''The food was excellent.''
Passing through the hall of the Manor his eyes calmly took in what was on display. Several servants hadn't anticipated the two Nobles to go this way and they tried their best to become invisible. Aldrakar nodded almost imperceptibly at them, blinking slowly as he did so. Not wanting to allow too much distance between himself and Vespesia he slowed his pace to a trudge. ''You made a fine toast, but not nearly as fine as the wine you served. What was that? I might want to get some of my own.'' The passing comment he used to study Vespesia a bit. She was a young woman who didn't fit his image of a Noble Lady. Not really at least. No pomp and she seemed more akin to the battlefield rather than at court. His eyes told him she was pretty but his brain informed him of the steep age gap. The wine was playing its role too but it was unclear for which camp it was rooting.
In an attempt to clear his head of some of the wine he looked up at the ceiling for a moment feinting thought, a futile thing to do really. Once wine takes hold, it'll stay with you the entire night. Usually at least. As the entrance to the garden came into view and thus the exit of the manor was reached. A gentle yet suddenly cold breeze welcomed them. The sun had started to dip beyond the rim of the world. That place no man or woman could ever reach, yet had to imagine. The sky taking on hues of lavender and of deep ochre. Broad bands stacked one atop another in the sky like thick layers of molten wax. One mixing into the other until a scene was revealed to stretch the entire, early evening sky. The wildflowers and roses, whatever their color had been, were now made of bronze, of darkened gold and of the color of women's lips, kissed too often and too hard.
The pebbles crunched underfoot as Aldrakar took his first few strides into the garden. His blond hair summoning a will of its own but he had long ago made peace with that. Aldrakar took in the garden for what it was. A place of relaxation now bathed in the most miraculous of lights. Further along he could see torches being lit by servants and spotted a modest gazebo with an inviting brazier. Its flames illuminating the interior of the gazebo and undoubtedly dispelling any chilliness that had tried to live there.
With some mixed feelings Aldrakar turned to Vespesia and offered her his arm. A flash of Lucini passed his mind's eye and was followed by a memory of Jocelin. He welcomed them but as he realized it himself, he hoped Vespesia hadn't noticed his lapse of attention. ''What would you like to show me first? The roses?'' He motioned off to where he assumed where the rosebushes. He made brief eye contact before turning away again. ''Still no questions I assume.'' The last he said with a bit of a smirk on his face. ''I trust you want to be Lurian, who doesn't. So let's no longer contest that.'' A nearby bush covered in tiny, purple flowers was tugged at by the wind and all but enveloped Vespesia and Aldrakar in a cloud of wonderful fragrance.
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Written by the player of Vespesia Caesara. An interesting proposal!
The Only Way to Know Someone...
The sun was making its daily last stand as her garden was bathed in golden light. On the far edge of the horizon, the moon pushed out the last light of day with all its titanic might, only, Vespesia knew, that it would in turn be bested and the sun would rise again. Vespesia was more at ease than she had been for almost a year. Constant war, travelling on the road, putting down monsters, and keeping up appearances before her soldiers could drain even the mightiest of warriors.
It was good to be in Noble company again, the constant bowing and reverence of her staff and soldiers made Vespesia grow weary, and she relished the chance to talk with an equal. No, someone far more traveled and experience than she. The pair walked amongst the roses and marigolds, talking and laughing as they shared their stories of court and war. As the last rays on sun began to fade, they came upon a small clearing in the garden, used for the entertaining of guests at parties. Summer wildflowers bloomed all around them, and Vespesia gave mischievous smile, as she could finally do what she had wanted to do with Aldrakar since she had first laid her eyes on him...
Vespesia walked to the center of the clearing, as Aldrakar stood, closing his eyes and breathing deeply of the cool summer air, and the wonderful smell of flowers. Vespesia noticed that he seemed far away, as if in a memory, she smiled to herself that a man such as he would likely have much to remember. Vespesia cleared her throat, snapping the man from his reverie, "Aldrakar, I would like to thank you for a wonderful afternoon. I have enjoyed your company, and if would not be any trouble I would love to hear more about your time as Emperor of Luria Nova, as I'm sure you have a great many humorous anecdotes! But first I will ask you to indulge me! Otto, if you would please..."
As she spoke, Vespesia's steward, Otto stepped quietly into the small clearing, holding a long and thin object, covered in fine velvet cloth. Otto quickly walked over to Aldrakar and pulled from the velvet cloth an arming sword. It was simply made, the only special ornamentation being its silver crossguard and an inscription along one side of the blade, "The Truth Will Set You Free". Aldrakar took the blade with some hesitation, unsure about what Vespesia intended, but she didn't make him wait long for an explanation.
"My fencing instructor was a man by the name of Berthold. He came from Astrum in the north and spent many years fighting both men and beasts. He had a belief that he in turn spent much time instilling into me: that you can never truly know someone, indeed, understand them and they understand themselves, until you do battle with them. Personal combat strips away all lies, Royal Aldrakar, both what we tell to others and those we tell to ourselves. It shows us who among us who are cowardly, who are brave, who are cautious, or those who are headstrong. The sword lays all bare to those that wield them. And so, Aldrakar, I ask that you will allow me a chance to truly know who you are, and in turn show you who I truly am. Let us test ourselves in a friendly sparring match. I very much want to test myself against one of such experience and renown as yourself!"
Finishing her speech and letting down her long black hair, Vespesia took off her leather coat and slowly drew her own sword, a slimmer and longer sword than most, with a hilt and crossguard made of blackened steel. SHe smiled broadly and shook the last sharp vestiges of wine and heady fragrance from her mind, hoping that her offer would be accepted...
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Let us find out, the truth! Was fun to write one of these RP's again. Its usually a bit challenging to describe what it is that one sees in the mind's eye and I can only hope you can get a clear picture of the events as you read them. Enjoy!
Game Mechanic:
Duel (2 days ago)
Vespesia Caesara, Countess of Cadier meets her challenger Aldrakar Renodin, Royal of Luria Nova for the agreed duel till surrender.
Aldrakar has decided to use the 'trick moves' strategy while Vespesia has chosen the 'overrun' strategy, giving Aldrakar the advantage.
The duel goes back and forth for a while. Finally, Vespesia surrenders after suffering a light wound. Aldrakar, although the winner, has also been injured.
Crossing Swords
As Vespesia spoke, her steward, Otto stepped quietly into the small clearing, holding a long and thin object, covered in fine velvet cloth. Otto quickly walked over to Aldrakar and pulled from the velvet cloth an arming sword. It was simply made, the only special ornamentation being its silver crossguard and an inscription along one side of the blade, "The Truth Will Set You Free". Aldrakar took the blade with some hesitation, unsure about what Vespesia intended, but she didn't make him wait long for an explanation.
The sword felt alien to his hand. A length of steel that wasn't made for him. Its grip unfamiliar and not tailored to his hand. The silver on the crossguard fine yet distracting in its many reflections. Aldrakar's eyes read the words upon the blade. He sighed. Vespesia made her request and the words she spoke mostly flowed past him. His senses already sharpening, a habit age had yet to degrade it seems.
As she let her raven black hair flow where it would, Aldrakar's expression became like a fox'. Studious and elusive. He drank in the tenseness in her shoulders, the slight hint of her unsteady pace backwards as she took her coat off, the way her fingers grasped the hilt of her blade. Clearly a personal weapon. It was longer than his. Lighter also, a woman's blade with the intend to fight at a longer distance. Or simply to compensate for the fatigue a heavier blade would impose.
Her smile cut across her face from ear to ear. Like stepping through a portal, entering a garden of tranquility she seemed to undo herself of worry and of distraction. Taking one, then two steps, Aldrakar turned his body to face her. One hand firmly on his blade, the other supporting it in a quasi double grip. Pointing the blade upwards, centering the hit at hip height. Eyes met, the words unspoken, I am ready.
The world sank away and joined the fading sun. Vespesia rushed forwards in an explosion of force. Her long blade held with both hands and raised to just above her bosom, angled directly at Aldrakar. The tip aimed at his chest. She crossed the square in less time than it takes to describe it. Sensing she came in range, her arms uncoiled their tension and her muscles drove the sword at his heart. Aldrakar was already striding backwards, bringing his blade up to parry. Steel kissed steel and both combatants felt the strength of the other.
Not wasting time, Aldrakar flicked his blade at Vespesia in a simple two stage attack. Right swipe, left swipe. She parried one and powered through the second. Pushing Aldrakar back again, yet this time, the other way, the way she initially came from. A flurry of strikes ensued. Aldrakar danced and dodged. His blade ringing and chirping with each impact or glancing blow. Twice he retaliated with counter blows that threatened her flanks but both times she managed to adjust. Preferring to use her superior range to take the lead and force Aldrakar to react.
For twenty heartbeats this continued. Both combatants were breathing through their mouths by now. Not a lull in the fighting for Vespesia simply changed tact and switched effortlessly from swiping her long blade to pecking at Aldrakar's defense with jabs. The man nearly twice her age lept and shied away and seemed to glide over the square like a water dancer does among the foils in a pond. Suppressing a smirk he couldn't help himself from uttering. ''Woof, said the wolf to the dog.'' Having finally managed a tiny amount of distance from her he made a flourish with his sword both graceful and deceptively simple.
Black hair shone with a bronze edge in the firelight. A crescent in full motion as she rained blows on him. Sparks could be seen. The silver at the guard of Aldrakar's blade was chipped by an expertly executed strike by Vespesia. With eyebrows raised Aldrakar entered her personal space as he caught the blow on the guard and stepped away from her again but not before planting his hand in her side, putting her off balance.
Cutting low and working up to her midsection, his blade sought an opening. Vespesia attempted to use the length of her blade once, succeeded, twice succeeded again, but each time Aldrakar stuck faster. His shorter blade allowing him to do so with less strain than her. He pressed her with his attacks. Patience was not her strategy and she stepped backwards, out of his reach and went for an overhead chop. Feinting to the left Aldrakar stepped into the blow from the right. Raising his blade just enough to catch it. Forcing himself close to her she tried to disengage and Aldrakar leaned to the right, to do the same.
Vespesia, grateful for the switch in initiative prepared to get back on the offensive. Her core shook. Something hard impacted on her waist. Pain shot through her body. She began to fall. Instead of disengaging as Aldrakar pretended, he instead kicked out, squarely hitting Vespesia and knocking her to the ground. The big blade clattering onto the ground next to her.
She was quick to get to her feet again though. Aldrakar stood a few paces away, readying himself for her next attack. And it came with a vengeance. Nostrils flaring, the black blade licked out. Almost tasting Aldrakar and he was hard pressed to avoid its seeking steel. Circling where he could, making small and feeble counter attacks. She gave him no pause. Side stepping, Aldrakar created an opportunity as the big blade was committed. He sensed an opportunity and went for it. His shorter blade went in for the kill. It sought her flesh that was exposed at her wrist. Disabling your opponent by taking a finger was just about as effective as killing them outright in real battle. They were out of the contest. Through a sheer effort of will Vespesia lurched her blade from its original trajectory and heaved it into Aldrakar's direction. A monumental achievement. Panic showed in Aldrakar's eyes as he perceived the incoming blow. He tried to circle away from it but failed as it grazed his shoulder.
A trickle of crimson fluid, warm and sticky nudged its way through his clothing. A smile that turned into a small grin appeared on his lips. Seeing she was pleased with the score he played along. He worked up a temper and struck out at her. Small combinations of two's and three's. She parried them or dodged them. Steadily increasing the speed of the combinations Aldrakar paid close attention to Vespesia. She seemed to manage but she was getting into trouble and she knew it. In a stroke of brilliance she knelt down and swung a forward arch. Forcing Aldrakar to leap backwards. Instantly, like a much younger man, he dashed forwards and let sing his sword as it met Vespesia's black steel. The song was shrill and angry. Aldrakar danced the dance of blades and she held her own. She began to sing back. One, two.. one, two, three.. one, two.. As their blades crossed and the highest note was played both disengaged and stepped in again to play the following note. But Aldrakar switched grip from his right hand to his left. Dove past her blow and turned on the balls of his heels and struck.
Blood oozed out of a long red stripe across Vespesia's upper leg. From about a hand's length north of her knee all the way to her belt. To her credit she did not scream out. He leveled his blade with her face. She slumped. The pain tantalizing and whispering words of fear into her mind. She did not give into them. Thoughts materialized in her mind. She would not be able to match his speed with a wounded leg. She yielded.
Not much later they were both being tended to by healers while sitting or in her case, recumbent on a sofa. Both enjoying some more wine. Not quite the same quality as the wine they had early that afternoon but still, very good wine. Proper contest does that to you. It makes things that much better.
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Hey there! It has been quite a while since I wrote a proper Rp. One I felt I should record here. It's a letter with a bit of a vague but perceptible message which I send to the Rulers of Dwilight. Its an RP where I describe a scroll / letter and how the actual material looks like upon which it is written. Quite a different angle to Rp perhaps but I like to do it from time to time. Enjoy!
Vellum' Renodin
Your eyes behold a rich piece of vellum. Clearly worked by the hand of a master craftsman and afforded every expense in its creation. The writing opulently bordered with graceful artistry in gold-tread and tiny, sparking gems. The distinct and recognizable crest of House Renodin worked into the pattern as to make it an integral part of the artwork. Its traditional oak brown colors meshed with gold almost organically incorporated.
The lettering suggests a very deliberate and puissant effort, at times showing rough finishes and a quill used almost like a spear as dots were practically lanced onto the parchment.
Most esteemed Rulers of Dwilight,
These here words written by my hand are to inform you that the world and your politics have caused me to stray from the path of peace and onto the coals of war.
As you make my feet burn I shall resist the inner, screaming voice urging me to step aside and let events unfold as they would. The world is wise, its Rulers full of virtue. Men and women of great quality. Yet with the air changed, the wind blowing in the cold of winter, I must find shelter in kinship. My position is small and my influence marginal. My word stands as it ever has.
The kin of my kin, Lurians, are threatened. Hands are raised not to block out the sun or to provide comfort. They bar the way where hands cannot bring food to mouth. They push where they ought to embrace. They grasp steel where cloth would have been magnanimous. My hand is forced, my heart troubled, my course set. Among you, you may know of what I speak. Should you not then you need not worry. Words I bring but they are always true and those of you that know of my name will agree. Move I do not lightly but now I will storm, to the aid of cherished friends.
Deep in this heart of mine, I wish to count you among my many friends, some of you are kin. The world will turn I fear and ties tested. Will the ship called future crash into the rocks? Perhaps it will be dragged out to open sea. Peace is what I strive for and that is what I love. Steel I must now take in hand and heavy grows this heart of mine.
Those that I will face, know I will grant you all the honors of the battlefield. Your bodies, if fallen to the ground in death, will not feel the touch of mutilation and be afforded proper burials. None of you I wish dead but some of you may oppose me in my quest to fulfill the bonds of friendship. To those, prepare yourselves and know that you are but a fisherman's raft upon a roaring, angry sea.
With utmost respect,
Aldrakar Renodin
Half of the crimson red seal that once closed the letter dangles at the bottom of the scroll. The Insignia of House Renodin cleft in twine.
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Hey there!
I was browsing the Battlemaster Wiki and came across a collection of RP's by Aldrakar. Not just him but also of those that Swore fealty onto him. The whole process and oathswearing involved. It is a history of Aldrakar as the Lord of Giask, A large city in Dwilight. Some gems in there, enjoy!
http://wiki.battlemaster.org/wiki/Keepers_of_Lore/Regions/Giask
Yes, that is a link to the wiki. Click it, go there and peruse at your leisure.
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Welcome! Another little tid bit of Rp for you to enjoy. Here you'll read about Kyryn Kye of House JeVondair and Aldrakar. Kyryn is a young Noble that grew up in the care of Aldrakar and close relations of him. Defacto, you could see Kyryn being an unofficial Son of Aldrakar, the young man grew up along side his own two children. Its ongoing so more may be coming.
Two minor Rp's led to the latter one, all in Askileon Purlieus:
Aldrakar:
At the head of a sizable troupe of some of the finest warriors the Empire has to offer Aldrakar catches sight of the banners of Kyryn of House JeVondair. The wind wills his cape to bellow and flow off his steed yet his face is unfazed by its touch. His head inclining in a nod, offering recognition to the young Noble as he passes by.
Kyryn:
Kyryn sat atop his horse, looking down on some local dignitraries as the bickered about grain shipments in the reason. The arrival of Aldrakar fully captured the young man's attention. He bid the dignitaries figure it out or face dismissal as he wheeled his horse about and kicked into a canter to catch up with the former Emperor.
On the Road in Askileon Purlieus
The paved road resisted the boots of the Rendorian Elite as it would wheels, hooves, rain and all other manner of abuse. Its only compromise the signature click clack clack sound of the iron shot hooves of Aldrakar's horse as they rapped lazily off its flagstones. Hearing another, much quickly melody of hooves on stone, Aldrakar turned his head around to see that boy grown man, Kyryn, approach hastily.
As the young Noble rode up he passes a group of at least five dozen men born in the fires of war. Hard men tempered with discipline and devotion to order lest their inner fires overtook their actions. Many carried recurved bows or crossbows, the liberty of choice afforded to their proven skill and dedication. Wearing fine armors of segmented or partial plate mail crested with expertly fitting helmets and flowing from their shoulders sturdy and impressive cloaks. The livery of the young Noble wasn't unfamiliar to them but they didn't deign to grant him much of the road he tried to use to overtake them.
''Ah, Kyryn my boy. Looking good in the saddle!'' Aldrakar calmly drank in the spirited image of the young man. ''Aren't you supposed to be somewhere, assigned to a certain army?'' An accusatory eyebrow arched but didn't convey malice for the lips set well below them curved upwards into a smile. ''Glad to have caught you.''
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After a huge resurgence of monster spawns I decided to write this little Rp to mark a surprise meeting.
Just after the battle in Poryatu
Stepping away from the walls Aldrakar cast his gaze towards the figure of Lady Ciarghuala. He flashes a grin that's still white despite his advancing years. Some white has started to mingle with his golden, half long hair and under his clothing one could be certain he no longer looked like the young god he once did during his prime. Today there still remained a steadfast physique that bespoke of hard training and innate good breeding. Although marked by the scars of war.
''Fancy seeing you here.'' His eyes laughed as behind him the fields were strewn with arrows, javelins and the corpses of dozens of monsters and undead.
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Hey everyone. A bit of traditional Lord - Knight RP.
This is a letter from the Player of Ceryn Onyxis followed by an RP / Letter from Aldrakar. As you'll see it centers around the swearing of Fealty and how a Lord could handle receiving a new Knight entering his service. Sure it is a bit elaborate but hey, if it would happen to me as a Knight I'd be delighted. From that perspective I made this. Hope you like it.
The ingame message is an actual RP with the descriptions and such with plaintext and the letter parts of the message are quoted to stand out.
Letter from Ceryn Onyxis
My liege, Aldrakar Renodin, Imperial Magistrate and King of Earth's Hall,
I hope this missive finds you well. I write today to introduce myself, and to reaffirm the pledge of fealty which I have made to you, your Kingdom, the city, and the Hegemony at large.
My name is Ceryn, the grandnephew of the recently deceased Lord Claude Onyxis. Upon this unfortunate event of his passing, I and the Onyxis family at large have concluded that I should come into the public light and represent the family in his stead. It will be a pleasure to meet you in person; my granduncle had spoken highly of your diplomatic and rhetorical skill, as well as your dedication to your noble duties.
I will do my best to serve you and the realm as best I can. Of course, if you have any particular guidance or orders, I am happy to receive them.
From the hand of,
Ceryn Onyxis
Knight of Poryatown
-=-=-=-=-=-
The Oath of Fealty
Your scribe carefully hands you a heavy scroll case. The leather a soft brown worked with oils until it reached a smooth oaken hue. Set around the top and bottom your eye catches fancifully cut gemstones that add luster and weight to the thing. Their sparkle a rainbow grasped firmly in their greedy, crystalline hands. Upon opening the container you find two pieces of vellum. One lighter and one far more ceremonious. Possessing not only a heavy and officiously looking seal poured over gold-thread strings, but suspended from them a rich brown, velvet piece of cloth marking the banner of Aldrakar Renodin. Looking back at the scroll container you notice nearly the entire surface of it has been carefully and expertly embossed with insignia and heraldry and indeed markings, associated with House Renodin.
Taking the lighter piece of vellum out first your eyes roam the material and absorb the message written upon it. The lettering suggests the hand that wrote them was patient and had received proper training perhaps for years on end.
Sir Ceryn, Scion of House Onyxis, Knight of Portyatown, Subject of the Kingdom of Earth's Hall and Noble of the Hegemony of Luria Nova.
Your letter is well received.
The mention of your Grand Uncle along with your family choosing you to fill his considerable shoes is a compliment in and of itself. Know that by stating such you raise the bar of my expectation substantially. Lord Claude perished fighting the beasts of the dark in defense of humanity and the Empire. With that being his last deed you would do well to secure a capable company of men and follow in his footsteps. However, before we get to that I present you with the Sacred Vows that accompany a Pledge of Fealty.
These here words you offered and the ones I offer in return bind you to me, until death. Shun all which I shun and love all that I love, that is our pact.
You take out the heavier piece of vellum and allow your eyes to glean its message. These words are styled to look grand. To impose and great care has been taken to perfect each individual letter.
To your Oath of Fealty I shall hold you. Until such a time that I release you from it or death does claim you. In turn I will provide you with an upkeep suitable to your service rendered onto me. Providing enough so that you may command a company of good and loyal men in my name and do battle for the pleasure of the Realm and our Sovereign master, The Emperor.
I swear to do right by you as long as your Oath is strong and shelter you in my homes, provides you cloth to garb your body in and see to the nourishment that grands you life. Justice shall be mine to give and my hand to shield you from the evil of others. This is my sacred vow onto you as Liege and I accept your Oath.
The estate known as Essenhorn Tome Hall is now yours by bond and oath, use it wisely.
Sir Ceryn, you do me proud and make swell my heart with hope as the future just turned to a stark Gold against the black night sky.
Having digested the message you look back at the first letter.
Now that you are my bannerman and indeed, my Knight. Here is your first mission. It will allow me to see you in action and gauge your quality and virtue. Write Sir Kyryn Kye of House JeVondair. He has been given overall command of the expedition to the Tomb Islands, home of the D'harans. Their charge being to aid in the defense of the Tomb Isles against the oncoming hordes of monsters. You will offer your service to Sir Kyryn and be part of this expedition. Fight the monsters that took the life of your beloved and famous Grand Uncle. Kill as many of them as you can but always keep in mind, you fight to keep the people safe.
Do this and show your worth.
With a benevolent eye,
Aldrakar Renodin
-
Morning! Welcome, come closer. Don't be shy.
I've got a little introductory RP. One that hopefully will start a chain of Rp's with a foreign dignitary that Aldrakar is receiving in Giask. Can't say much else than that I tried to depict how it would look like when Aldrakar returns from an unsuccessful battle against Monsters. Hope you like it.
The Return From Battle
Arriving through the northern gate guarding the grand docks of Giask, comes a mangled and bloodstained troupe of veterans. They bear good arms and excellent armor but dented, scratched and covered in grime. The men look sullen and between them some eight stretchers and even some carts depict the wounded and indeed the dead. Of the eighty or so, only twenty two remain breathing.
Leading them is a physically impressive man. Not because he is the spitting image of a young god, rather he is zeusian in his looks. A fine young man grown to a riper age. Like prized wine he weathered the years and it has added quality rather than worn away what quality there was at inception. Golden hair now mingling with errant silver. A face angular and handsome yet marked by lines and small scars. Radiant blue globes for eyes that are warm in their innate benevolence and a demeanor both approachable and graceful but in possession of that quality which makes Kings.
There walked Aldrakar Rendorin, former Emperor of the Empire, at the head of his men. Leading them back to safety and away from the carnage of battle. Having participated personally in the action. His armor showing the signs but his will undaunted as he walks tall. Allowing his steed to carry a brother of battle not quite on equal footing with his own Noble descent.
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The following RP was written by the Player of Max Bennet, all credit goes to him.
Roleplay from Max Bennet
Dark gray of ashen broadsides splashed the pier of the Grand Harbour with salty water, as the gloomy cog moored to the quay. "Darn these Toprakian transports" - was the sentence that went through several local heads. Other than Askileon - which had it's architecture highly influenced by national culture - Toprakian towns and cities, altough magnificent in their own fashion, were much less colourful than the legendary Golden City; and such were their tradeships. After several days of sailing Earl Max Bennet stepped over the colourless gangplank as he disembarked the ship. Altough among Bennets he was considered a titch, he was in fact above average both in height and stature. He was dressed mostly in red and pink colours, but his noble outfit was almost entirely covered by an inconspicuous black cloak. His short dark brown hair and his green expressionless eyes were hidden beneath the hood. Two things stood out in his appearance, however: firstly - even the small uncovered area of his skin was "decorated" with many scars, yet none of them appeared to come from a weapon, they rather resembled bitemarks and clawmarks, secondly - slipped on his finger was a shiny ring provoking most baneful attraction in some of the onlookers.
With one swift move he straightened his cloak and barely reachin the end of the quay he notived a golden statue towering over the Grand Harbor, if not with size then with artfulness. It depicted a knight holding a magnificent weapon. Max came closer to read the description mentioning Lord Kurlock and the victory of Sandalak. "Not very informative, not very proximate." - he said to himself and continued on his way. In the harbour he paid two silvers to an errant boy to fetch a message of his arrival to Royal Aldrakar, afterwards he passed time observing the local trade - the amount of ships sailing in and out was astounding, certainly - he thought - there is a lot to learn here.
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My response to Max Bennet's RP. Felt like taking one of the NPC's, the messenger boy and writing a little story around him. Let me know what you think.
A Boy on his Feet
The capable looking and raven cloaked figure of Lord Max loomed over the boy. The youth threw big eyes in awe as the noble produced two pieces of minted silver. Rubbing the face of the Imperator against the image of Balance's retreat in his palm. Making a soft grinding sound as the coinage of Swordfell enthralled the boy. ''Inform the Lord Aldrakar Renodin of my arrival. Be swift and don't delay.'' The second line uttered with an edge of danger the youth didn't fail to notice. ''Yes m'lord, I won'nea tarry. Swift as hawks I'll be! Promise!'' Bowing quickly to the Fellish Lord. Eager hands received the silver and feet brought a wiry body to turn on its heels. A hidden grin flashing teeth as the boy knew exactly where the Lord Aldrakar was. Not twenty steps away and his personal banner bright for all to see. The great oaken brown field covered with gold stitching, depicting a lion proud.
Snaking through the crowd of the Grand Docks the youth cast a glance backwards. His gleeful laugh cheering passers by. Darting past a fishmonger's cart and narrowly avoiding a group of pickpockets in action there he was. Right before the former Emperor himself. Blades at the ready to cut life from his breast as men the equal of bears and giants watched him and anyone else trying to catch a glimpse of the man himself. The Rendorian Elite. While carrying their wounded from a skirmish in Nid Tek, they remained more than capable and utterly willing to lay down their lives for their Liege.
''Master Aldrakar!'' The youth's shrill voice called out. Raising his hand and making himself as tall as possible in an attempt to be seen by Aldrakar himself. ''I bring word from Lord Max of Swordfell!'' Inspiration came and he jumped on a nearby crate belonging to a merchant's stall. ''oi! boy! git!'' The merchant instantly growled. ''Master Aldrakar! Lord Max sends his regards!'' One of Aldrakar's Elites groaned and moved to haul the sprite of a man out of sight. ''He awaits you but there! Right there!'' In a last ditch effort the boy pointed yonder to where the Fellish transport had moored. Aldrakar raised a hand and his sworn warrior pauses momentarily. The middle aged monarch peered in the direction the boy had motioned and nodded once. The fierce looking warrior backed down and the boy grinned triumphantly. ''Thank you.'' The words formed with the rich timbre of Aldrakar's voice. While not spoken loudly, they carried.
Moments later Aldrakar's bodyguard cleared a path to the Fellish transport and spotted Lord Max of House Bennet, Master and Earl of Fatexna. The Euschean sea offered a mild breeze that brought with it the scents of the spice market, fermented fruits soon to become liquors and tugged at Aldrakar's heavy, brown cape where it already played with his shoulder length golden hair. ''Lord Bennet, Max, welcome to the City of my children, the Home of my wife and allow me to welcome you, to Luria Nova.''
So the man, Aldrakar met Max, for the very first time.
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The following RP is written by the Player of Max Bennet. All credits go to him. It is a continuation of the RP chain.
Roleplay from Max Bennet
The errant boy barely left a couple of seconds ago and already a hassle he caused with a band of magnificently armed men caught everyone's attention. Max looked in that direction and there it was - a golden lion on an imposing banner. Young Earl narrowed his eyes - "well earned, boy" - he thought to himself. Not a minute later in the middle of the corridor hastely constructed with steel-clad sizable bodies - stood the man. The many titles he wore, always impressive on the letters he penned, did not give justice to the majesty radiating from him. The royal gold and noble silver not only in his clothing and banners but also in his physical features. Few were the men not impressed by the figure. Max slipped off his hood, bristling his short hair in one motion.
Imperial Magistrate, Royal, Duke Aldrakar Renodin greeted the simple Earl of Fatexna. The latter bowed slightly, then raising his head responded in fashion:
"Royal Renodin! Magistrate Aldrakar, thank you for welcoming me to your realm and to this magnificent city. I'm glad to finally meet you in person, after the many letters we exchanged as fellow Master Rangers, but I must shamefully admit that I'm at an advantage in this meeting..." - he let his voice trail off ominously for a second, then smiled - "The tales I've heard and read of you and your heroic exploits, Magistrate, are quite excellent! I fear there are no tales being told about Bennets yet, as we're a relatively young house. I feel like I've known you already!"
Looking back to the cog he arrived in Max waved his hand around pointing at the docks they were in.
"The city... I haven't seen much yet but what I've seen so far is very impressive. The waters of Euschean Sea - most favourable, much unlike the rough seas of Central Toprak. Then again such calm waters would never allow for the favourite passtime of the Flow Dwili. The docks - very lively. The statue - very imposing, you must one day tell me the story behind it, Imperial Magistrate." - Max intoned the title as if expecting something from his older host, then knocked twice on the armour of one of the warriors - "Yes. Everything very impressive indeed. But - Royal Aldrakar - I'm certain that the city has much more impression to offer, and haven't you promised me a tour?" - he twisted his lips into awkward smile.
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Welcome back! I got round to finally writing a response. Do feel a bit bad for taking so long in making it but here it is. Hope you enjoy it!
The Emperor and the Horse
"The city... I haven't seen much yet but what I've seen so far is very impressive. The waters of Euschean Sea - most favourable, much unlike the rough seas of Central Toprak. Then again such calm waters would never allow for the favourite passtime of the Flow Dwili. The docks - very lively. The statue - very imposing, you must one day tell me the story behind it, Imperial Magistrate." - Max intoned the title as if expecting something from his older host, then knocked twice on the armour of one of the warriors - "Yes. Everything very impressive indeed. But - Royal Aldrakar - I'm certain that the city has much more impression to offer, and haven't you promised me a tour?" - he twisted his lips into awkward smile.
~Max Bennet
The hustle and bustle of the Grand Docks fluently though gradually found its way around the two Nobles. Wagons laden with goods where pulled by huge oxen as often as they were by sturdy workhorses. Sacks of produce borne on the backs of day-tellers buoyed on by exacting taskmasters and even the odd dog drawn cart could be spotted amidst the throng. Aldrakar listened patiently. The signs produced by his posture bespoke of great inner calm and an equal measure of attentiveness. Tranquil azure eyes beheld the Fellish Lord as he spoke. A minute nod, the shadow of one perhaps, all that he offered before he responded. ''Come, let's us find out if we can slake your thirst. I have always held curiosity as a virtue.'' Aldrakar maneuvered his body into a turn. Stretching out an arm invitingly towards the city and away from the docks. His gloved hands covered with supple, hazel leather. Prominantly displayed upon his ringfinger, a solid gold, seal ring. ''After we have done that, we'll see if we cannot also slake your thirst for wine.'' A benign smile surfaced upon his lips like a precious coconut discovered by a castaway on a lonesome isle. ''You do appreciate wine I hope, or will I be condemned to drink alone?'' The question was left hanging in the air where it mixed with the sounds of heavy wheels upon cobble, the squawking of a hundred or more gulls and even mingled with the hiss and yell of angry cats. Fighting over discarded fish-heads. Much to the delight of local kids whom wagered their sweets on the potential outcomes.
The Rendorian Elite, Aldrakar's personal guard, moved around the two nobles and cleared the way ahead. Aldrakar momentarily placed a hand on Max's left shoulder as he guided the man through the streets of Giask. ''Tell me of yourself. A wife? Children?'' His face took on a paternal quality, concern perhaps. Looking at the crest born upon Max's luggage Aldrakar swiftly turned his gaze back at the man. ''What does that stand for? A crimson swallow?'' The captain of his guard cleared his voice, a gesture that drew Aldrakar' attention. ''Yes Gerolf?'' The predatory man motioned ahead, a fork in the road. ''To the Golden Palace or the Equine Academy sire?'' Before answering Aldrakar turned to Max. ''Would you wish to meet the Emperor and perhaps some other members of the Nobility or would you rather experience the thoroughbred horses I've collected and put to military use?'' There was no pride in the words that would indicate hubris and neither any trace of an underlying need to impress.
''The Palace used to be my home and my son might be there. The Academy is a recruitment center I've financed and build up with the help of my retainers and my second son actually. Don't feel obligated to pick either for both are fine destinations. Sholan usually doesn't fly into a bloody rage over such trivial matters.'' Aldrakar turned away briefly. ''Usually.'' A moment stretched and then a rich laugh boomed from Aldrakar's lips. Clutching his waste with a single hand before he fully regained control over himself. ''Don't worry Max, either really is fine.'' The words were accompanied with a smile.
Captain Gerolf privately grinned. His master could be a tease, a great man some called him but also just a man.
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Hey there, Yeah the old Horse still have some kick to him. Aldrakar Rp incoming. This is the beginning of a scene and multiple Rp's will come from it I feel. A Royal Banquet / Feast. A lot of new players joined and I felt it would be a good introduction and meet and greet to hold such an event. Here's to hoping they like it hehe. Enjoy!
The Golden Feast
With great, big clouds lazily sliding across the amber, evening sky he looked out over the great city. The home of his children, the place where they had grown up and where he had met his late wife, Lucini Talratheon. Leaning forwards onto the fine, marble balustrade of the balcony that ringed most of the great hall of the Golden palace, Aldrakar looked down onto the City. It sprawled away in every direction from the Palace complex. North to the grand docks that even now did not know quiet. Torches and lanterns lit what hundreds of men still did. They worked so that the huge city would be fed, so it would function. Like poetic, fishy lungs the docks inhaled at night and breathed that life giving breath of commodities and goods by day.
A wry smile crept onto his face. ‘’City doesn’t change.’’ The cool, evening air filled his own lungs as he took a deep breath that slowly escaped through his nostrils. The Golden Palace was build over the span of many, many years. The libraries were full of its projects and yet, none of the librarians could quite agree when work had first begun or that it indeed ever truly finished. Situated on a strategic set of hills of which the highest one is commonly agreed to be the site of the oldest section of the Palace Complex, over time all of the hills in the immediate area were gradually incorporated. Enclosed with a series of high fortifications. Circling walls both pragmatic in their thickness but decorated in their own way with smart use of architecture, ornamentation and of course, banners. That tested and true way of signifying which Noble House was where. Aldrakar could still find more than a handful of his own insignias, banners and markings left over from the time that he was Emperor and indeed, was Master of Giask.
Some of his most memorable times in the palace he had spend in the gardens. Of course there were a great many of them and a fair few with their own water elements still, his fondest memories were among the cherry and peach groves. A section of the gardens quite old as they once served the dual purpose of providing food stuffs for the royal kitchens while at the same time providing prestige by the very design and layout of the groves. When means are few, things have to have several purposes or else they will become too costly. Aldrakar grinned at the thought. ‘’It’s no longer about cost these days, we’re still rich.’’ As if to confirm the fact his eye wandered over the royal stables. A complex vast enough to be mistaken for an estate all on itself. Paddies, jousting lists, armourer, medicus to just name a few of the ancilliary buildings associated with just the royal stables.
Sweeping his gaze across the other ‘’lesser’’ palatine hills Aldrakar saw the builds that houses foreign emissaries, the residence of the Emperor, the Royal Barracks, the huge entrance gate district, the place really deserved to be called a district for a small village would fit in it. Not bothering to inspect all of the grounds associated with the Palace Complex Aldrakar pushed himself away from the balcony balustrade. As he turned his ears heard the songs coming from the aviary below. The Nightingales are early tonight he thought to himself.
Upon entering the Great Hall he beheld the vast space that had housed entire Royal and indeed, Imperial Families. Collossal marble pillars reached impossibly high to support a roof made by the hands of master craftsmen making their labour of love. Not a single expense had been spared. While that was generally true for the entire Golden Palace, this room in particular was given special care to stand out. It was where the Lurian Emperors made their decrees after all and where Foreign Rulers were brought to feel small and be humbled. While it impressed Aldrakar if he took the time to look at it all, it didn’t really anymore. He had slowly grown used to it. Walking past a neatly arranged area specifically for wine and accompanying foods he nodded benignly to particular servants he recognized. An old habit stopped him in his tracks. His eye had spotted a wine it did not recognize. Feeling a certain modicum of defeat he mildly rolled his shoulders and whispered. ‘’Alright, you win.’’ Turning around Aldrakar instantly saw the triumphant look on his old wine stewards’ face. The man was portly and had a very kind, round face. His voice was full of merit and one could easily believe the man hadn’t even ever thought of hurting a fly, much less ever having done so. Looking down and then returning to look at the steward Aldrakar spoke. ‘’Ismos, what, is that wine?’’ Special emphasis on the word -what-.
The man’s belly swayed and shook gently as he uttered a soft chuckle. ‘’Whatever do you mean your Majesty? This one perhaps?’’ Ismos’ hands gracefully and with the dexterity of a seasoned warrior picked up the bottle he had surely planted where he had stood before. ‘’A rare find indeed your Majesty.’’ He licked his ruddy lips. ‘’From the faraway lands of old Asylon. Uncovered by a most daring adventurer. Deep, down in the cellars of a ruined castle. Or so I’m told.’’ The round face turned several shades of red, from that of a radish all the way down to a gleaming, healthy apple. His eyes alluring and teasing. ‘’The test is in the tasting of course!’’
Unbidden Ismos was already filling a glass and handed it delicately over to Aldrakar. Whom accepted it with a foxish grin. ‘’You know just to how entice me, you had this planned from the start, haven’t you?’’ A single eye trained on Ismos as Aldrakar took a sip. Swirling the wine in his mouth he couldn’t deny it was an exceptional vintage. Rich, full of body and with a strong, lasting finish. Nodding appreciatively Aldrakar looked the man in the eye. ‘’You’ve outdone yourself Ismos. Please see to it that some of the bottles find their way into my cellars.’’ Ismos bowed victoriously. ‘’It shan’t fail to be so, your Majesty.’’
After this little back and forth with an old friend, as such Aldrakar regarded Ismos, he felt his mood much improved. A smile upon his aged face that seemed to ignite smiles in those he looked upon. Still fancying himself handsome Aldrakar stood with the pose of a warrior. A lingering legacy of a lifetime wielding the sword. His once golden blue hair now streaked with white but still worn in the way he had when he was younger. Freely around his shoulders and allowed it to frame his angular face. Vitality still part of his being despite his years. Being favoured by all the ladies of luck, not a crippling blow had ever found his body in all the countless battles he had been through. Enabling him to still have a spring in his step whenever he felt like it. Worn hands smooth with care and the crowning jewels of his arms that in turn sported a healthy amount of muscle. The sign of man that took care of his body with regular and physical training.
Now striding through the Great Hall, Aldrakar was anxious to take a seat and officially open the banquet. Everything was set and the servants were in good cheer, in part because they saw and served their old master. A man they had grown to love, known to be a benevolent and kind individual.
Taking seat in one of the thrones arranged in the Great hall, the one reserved for the King of Earth Hall. Aldrakar raised his right hand, pointing with both index and middle finger and dipped them as a gesture. On cue, the servants opened the half dozen, great doors that permitted entry into the Great Hall and a stream of music cascaded down from the hidden balconies that lined the ceiling on the inside of the room. Nobles and dignitaries from across the Empire bustled into the hall and each donned in finery and splendour.
The scent of delicious food, warm hearths crackling invitingly and an array of pleasures to be sampled and experienced awaited all that would attend.
Aldrakar, simply sat on the throne and enjoyed the remainder of the Asylonian wine.
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Roleplay from the player of Ceryn Onyxis - All credit for writing this goes to said player.
Arriving at the Golden Feast
Ceryn strode through the doors of the Golden Palace's Great Hall, attempting unsuccessfully not to look around him in wonder. While he was certainly no stranger to magnificent architecture, the Palace occupied a higher echelon than he had ever imagined. Goals for the future, the most prominent words flashing through his mind.
Making an attempt to regain his composure, Ceryn tore his eyes away from the nearest pillar to get his focus and surveyed those attending the Feast. Many Lords and Ladies, dressed in finery uncommon even to those in the highest classes of nobility, milled about the room. Still not having met the majority of the Lurian nobility in person, Ceryn did not recognize many faces. Instead, he sauntered slowly to the nearest area for libations, listening intently, hoping to place noble names to noble faces through iconic speech patterns that had been displayed in the letters and missives circulated throughout the realm.
Nearing his destination, he did spot a familiar face. Standing around the wine area, speaking to an old man whom Ceryn presumed was a wine steward, was His Majesty the King of Earth's Hall Aldrakar Renodin. The sight of his liege made Ceryn pause slightly. I must be in top form. Ceryn surreptitiously looked towards a window, pretending to focus on the garden outside while instead focusing his attention on his own reflection on the glass. He inspected his outfit, a raven-colored outfit, the nicest parts of which being his vest and cape. Satisfied that nothing was out of place, he turned back towards the direction of his liege. And the libations, one cannot forget the libations.
"My liege, it is an honor to be invited to such a grand event."
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Of course I had to find a way to get the two RP's aligned. I hope I did a decent job at it. Enjoy!
The Empty Glass
Having acknowledged the third dozen or so Noble family that presented themselves at his throne Aldrakar brought the wineglass once more to his lips. Wondering in the quiet places of his mind if he’d get a neck-ache before too long. Tilting the glass an odd sensation greeted him. His lips informed him that there was not naught but air left in the glass. Perturbed by this fact he cautiously glanced in the direction of Ismos and the wine corner the man so fussed over.
It soon became obvious the man wasn’t going to look into his direction. Aldrakar sat up and matter of factly positioned the empty glass upright on the armrest of his throne. Raising his head and staring right at the wine corner as if to give a silent command. Moments stretched into one long pause. Aldrakar breathed the air that he had held in his lungs out hard, through his nose. He glances left to see if he could spot any servants nearby. None. ‘’What nonsense is this?!’’ He muttered under his breath. He ventured a glance to the right. The same absence of servants greeted him there also.
Right at that time another Noble of some important presented himself along with his fetching daughter. It was no secret Aldrakar’s two adult sons were still bachelors as was the man himself. Not listening to the man’s words or even catching the name of the daughter, Aldrakar nodded regally as a well rehearsed trick. The Noble took his cue from that and ushered his somewhat disappointed daughter along.
Not waiting to see if anyone else was going to present themselves Aldrakar pushed himself up from the throne and strode towards Ismos and the wine the man guarded with smiles and well timed laughs. As Aldrakar approached Ismos turned and danced around the wine tables like a ballerina. Never meeting Aldrakar’s gaze and ever seeming a step ahead of the King. Using the crowd as roadblocks but to the most perceptive of people, Ismos smirked and enjoyed the chase. The game.
Satisfied that nothing was out of place, he turned back towards the direction of his liege. And the libations, one cannot forget the libations.
"My liege, it is an honor to be invited to such a grand event."
~ Ceryn Onyxis
A frown upon his face, Aldrakar heard a voice call out to him. Turning to the source he found a young Noble clad in sable. Keeping quiet and letting his gaze linger on the younger man Aldrakar veritably inspected him. Nice jacket. Did anybody die? Aldrakar mused to himself. The new hopeful from house Onyxis.. named... Cerwil?.. Cer.. Ceryn!
‘’Sir Ceryn, you honour your family by presenting house Onyxis for Earth Hall.’’ Aldrakar offered a small yet friendly smile as he gestured around the great hall that was stuffed with Nobility from all over the Empire. ‘’It seems there’s so many people that even my former wine steward cannot find time or moment to attend to his former liege.’’ The words more sarcastic than Aldrakar had meant them to sound. He held up his empty wine glass for Ceryn to see.
‘’Get us some wine Ceryn and we’ll share words, alright? And don’t let Ismos give you any of that second grade wine he peddles to the lot of them.’’ Aldrakar indicated at random Nobles sipping from their wineglasses.
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Right, here's the continuation, two roleplays in one post! The first belongs to the excellent player of Ceryn Onyxis. All credits go to him for the first and the second is my own writings. Enjoy! I'll also post a bunch of RP's here to illustrate the group of Nobles Aldrakar is referring to. hehe. Cheers guys!
Roleplay from Ceryn Onyxis
‘’Get us some wine Ceryn and we’ll share words, alright? And don’t let Ismos give you any of that second grade wine he peddles to the lot of them.’’ Aldrakar indicated at random Nobles sipping from their wineglasses.
"Of course, my liege."
Ceryn turned towards the wine steward. Ismos, that was his name, or something like that. Serve my liege, and get wine. Two birds with one stone, I suppose.
Walking towards the wine steward, Ceryn put on one of his sincerest-looking smiles. Logic and teaching had long imparted the lesson on him: give a certain level of respect towards those who handle your food and drink. "My good sir, Ismos is it? If you would be so kind, the good King Aldrakar is out of wine, and as his knight I have been tasked with remedying the situation. If you could help me with this duty, and perhaps guide me to some good wine for him and myself, I would be most grateful."
The wine steward wordlessly nodded and smiled. He put placed the bottle he was holding, having finished filling the glass of a minor noble Ceryn didn't recognize. Instead, he reached for a bottle cleverly hidden in the middle of other wine bottles, but which looked quite distinct from them once removed. Fetching two glasses and filling them with the wine, Ismos handed them to Ceryn, who thanked the man before turning back towards the direction of his liege.
Heading back towards the throne upon which Aldrakar sat, Ceryn put on a different smile from his bank of facial expressions, one that said "it is my honor to serve" instead of "I am honored by your service." Time to converse with those higher than I. Let's make it good. He extended one of the glasses.
"Here you are, my liege."
The Attention of the King
Heading back towards the throne upon which Aldrakar sat, Ceryn put on a different smile from his bank of facial expressions, one that said "it is my honor to serve" instead of "I am honored by your service." Time to converse with those higher than I. Let's make it good. He extended one of the glasses.
"Here you are, my liege."
~Ceryn Onyxis
Having returned to his Throne Aldrakar accepted the wine from Sir Ceryn. ‘’Thank you.’’ He said matter of factly. Not looking at Ceryn but rather taking a much sought after sip of the wine. Only then did he allow a single eye to fall onto Ceryn. ‘’Well done, this’ll do, this’ll definitely do.’’
Settling into the throne Aldrakar looked around the Great Hall before returning to Ceryn. ‘’Please take a seat.’’ He motioned to the seats arrayed near the throne that were reserved for Nobles of Earth Hall. So arranged for the purpose of allowing them to take audiences from the people gathered in the Great hall. Alternatively any Noble of Earth Hall could not take a seat and thus avoid having to go through the officious business of nodding at people and listening to their requests and words. An official function if you will. It also allowed the Nobles of Earth hall to gather and converse if they so chose. The lesser Thrones and seats were set up in a half circle facing the Great Hall.
Something caught Aldrakar’s eye. A group of Nobles that seemed somewhat out of place. Like rabbits among a foxhunt. Pretending to be hounds but lacking the conviction. ‘’You see those young men over there Ceryn?’’ Aldrakar motioned towards the group including Nicholas Archival, William Fitz Roberts and Benedict Dupont. ‘’You recognize them Ceryn? I don’t.’’ He took another sip of his wine. Unceremoniously Aldrakar put thumb and index finger into his mouth and gave a sharp whistle. Hoping to catch some attention and at the very least, the attention of the three Noble youths. Unsure if he’d done so or not he raised his right hand into the air a bit and beckoned them over with his index finger.
More than a few faces turned to Aldrakar in confusion and surprise. Some of them smiling as they thought it was they, Aldrakar, had motioned at. His gaze was quite direct however and his eyes looked straight at the trio. ‘’Ceryn, this’ll be fun.’’ Aldrakar glanced mischievously at the knight. ‘’Bust their balls a bit when they come over.’’ The words spoken in a soft voice and where accompanied by a small smirk.
Somewhere else in the room, a beautiful, young lady dressed in a lavender, silk dress fluttered her eyelashes at Sir Donald and teasingly threw him a smile that portrayed her full and red lips. Before he could do anything though, like the expert tease she was, she darted away. Her destination in curiously close proximity of the Throne of Earth Hall.
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The following Roleplays are written by a bunch of new players to the Game. I love these guys and as you can soon see, they'll be fine additions to the game. Happy to have them join us! All credits go to them of course for writing these pieces.
The first few are illustrations, build up. Then they arrive at the Golden Feast.
Roleplay from William Fitz Roberts
Sir William stood at the prow of the ship as it sailed towards Giask. He had heard tales of its magnificence and from this distance it did not disappoint. Time would tell as to whether this remained the case. He glanced down at the invitation he had received the day before,astonished that his superiors had taken such interest in lesser nobility of the realm. Nevertheless he was looking forward to it greatly. However, first he had buisness to attend to. The White Shields were nowhere near the condition he would feel comfortable presenting to his Marshall when he returned to the mustering point; they were under manned and under trained. His own sword skill was not up to scratch either. He was hoping to rectify these flaws during his stay in the city. He toyed with the scarlet fox badge on his chest for a moment, before turning back to join his men.
Roleplay from Matthew Coffey
​Perhaps it was fortunate that Matthew had been performing his speeches at Giask when the messenger arrived. Immediately he knew the crest of House Renodin, having been from a local family in Poryatu, recognising such heraldry would have been taught during his upbringing. A necessary skill. It dawned on him just how much he had been anticipating meeting the nobility of the realm in person, the real ​nobility of consequence, but the true weight of the situation had only hit him as the emissary peered down from their horse, awaiting the pale pink faced youth to take the letter. Indeed, the letter itself told of a grandeur and richness that his family would never have seen, only being minor landed nobles themselves. Forgetting himself for a moment, Matthew took an inappropriately long time regarding the wealth displayed on a mere missive, before addressing the messenger as he would if Aldrakar had been there in person. Once dismissed, Matthew did not hesitate to return to his room to open the letter in private.
​Having returned to his lodging, a fairly modest room within one of the many fine inns scattered about the city of Giask, Matthew scanned the words at great length, as if trying to glean some sort of greater meaning from it besides the literal orders presented. Firstly, he made a quick note to remind his newly hired captain Wolfram the next day that the troops need be informed of their new position within the "Emperor's Will". This was of less interest to Matthew, as he had already known of the military implications of his pledge to the empire. He was looking forward to leading his troops into the fray, having only tasted real battle once against the beasts that lurk the outskirts of the realm, expectations of glory and honour were running high in his mind.
​Matthew smiled slightly to himself, skimming briefly over the next segment about joining the "Grand Pantry", having already done so at the request of his liege, Ciarghuala. Being the Margravine of Poryatu, the Coffey family had no doubt interacted with her servants, although unlikely in person. Thankful of her advice thus far and warm words of encouragement, Matthew hoped he would meet his liege in person soon enough, and it seems his wishes were to be answered.
​The next segment caught Matthew somewhat by surprise, not that the feast was unwelcome, and after all, the wealth of Luria Nova was unmatched so noble feasts were inconsequential from a monetary perspective. More so that he were invited, personally, by the king. He reminded himself that such was probably sent to all the nobles of Earth Hall, shaking the notion of importance off swiftly. Humility was to be his saving grace, his family had told him upon leaving the safety of the estate, but young bravado had been taking the better of him up until now. His mind drifted once more to the people he might meet at the feast, what they would talk about, how they would react to his presence. Such a spectacle, attendance was not only expected, it was mandatory in Matthews eyes.
​Certainly, his next task was to see a reputable tailor.
Roleplay from Nicholas Archival
The journey to Giask had been taking longer than expected. The roads were not of pristine quality, and though Nicholas was astride his destrier, Stalwart, the retinue that followed in his wake marched by foot. His Sworn Swords, as they had rather bombastically taken to calling themselves, were not what he was used to. He thought back, only days before, to his final hours in the Archival estate. The thundering of galloping hooves was a familiar sound, now confined only to memory... at least for the time being. Mathis Archival had been a fine cavalryman and knight, but had not the money to afford his son such a unit. Instead, it was the mundane reality of the small infantry unit that he had since accustomed himself to.
He would make do. It would not do for him to make any complaints; his position offered him far more than the typical citizen of Luria might expect. Coin enough to support himself, his estate and an armed retinue was a blessing in of itself that Nicholas did not permit himself to forget. "To think yourself above the men you serve is a short road to hubris and betrayal," his father had always said. It was a valuable lesson, and one he strove to remember, even as his circumstances seemed ever more likely to direct him toward grander standing. The surprise of receiving direct correspondence from both his king and emperor had yet to sink in. Though there was a voice gnawing at him, reminding him that he was one of many. Even amidst the wave of knights presenting themselves to the Empire, the glow of pride was not so easily dimmed.
Aldrakar Renodin, though foremost his king, was the Margrave of Poryatown. It was useful, then, that he had chosen Noble Manor Square for his residence and area of administration. He had not placed himself under the direct leadership of Aldrakar with the express intent of seeking greater influence, it seemed possible that it may occur as a side-benefit. No doubt it would prove useful at least to earn of himself the man's ear. In the regard, it was not so great of a surprise that he had received contact. What remained unexpected, however, was the recognition of the Emperor. Though it was less personal, the gift of both acknowledgement and the two-hundred gold bond gave Nicholas enormous satisfaction. It became apparent that the time with which he moved to represent his family more widely throughout Luria was opportune. None of these facts would escape him, lest he miss the chance to grasp the greatness that so teased itself before him.
Nicholas shook his head, dark tresses whipping in the evening breeze. He had been allowing Stalwart to dictate their pace for quite some time now, he realised, with the setting of the sun above. The knight shifted in the saddle and glanced over his shoulder. The Sworn Swords continued to follow behind him without falter, despite being without mounts of their own. Like their leader, the men of the unit were young and eager, keen to find their place in the world. Though youthful exuberance was no substitute for regimented, diligent training, it was an encouraging start. They were amenable and loyal, to both Nicholas himself and to Luria. They were a fine beginning to his military career, but would soon find themselves amidst greater numbers upon reaching Giask. With that in mind, he consulted his map; Askileon and its port could not be far. Already he could smell the sea-breeze on the air. The occasional gull swooped overhead, before wheeling off back towards the coast.
He had never had the honour of visiting Giask before, and this first arrival promised to be far more interesting than could have been predicted. Recalling both the military summons to the Emperor's Will and the impressive procession of King Aldrakar's emissary, Nicholas took a deep breath to steady himself. Frayed nerves would not fit him in the capital. He had ever been a man - or boy - of slight stature, but to stand amongst the greatest of Luria at the coming banquet, he would have to be tall.
Roleplay from William Fitz Roberts
William gave one final check over the White Shield's equipment before departing for his lodgings. He wished he had left enough time before the banquet to arrange the necessary repairs that had resulted from the day's training, but it could not be helped. As he walked through the streets of Giask, he thought back on the day's events. Immediately upon his arrival, he had gone to the bank to access the necessary funds for expanding the White Shields. He had hired new soldiers to compliment his small retinue, but it would be some time before they could work together effectively. He knew that no amount of individual skill could oppose a well trained force of loyal comrades, and so it was vital that his soldiers learnt to work together. He had little time for slackers and knew that a few days hard drill would bring cohesion to the band. Never one to sit back while his men got dirty, he had taken part in the brutal regime of marching, practising key formations and pike-drill, hiring the best tutor he could find from the academy to oversee his personal training. He did not feel that he had improved in the slightest, vowing to try harder on the morrow. He would not shame himself on the battlefield, war had made his family and he would not bring dishonour to their lineage, humble as it was.
He continued through the winding streets, marvelling at the beauty of the architecture that surrounded him. He had taken humble lodgings, as he wished to save every possible penny for improving his soldiers, the better to serve the empire. He had packed little clothing on his journey to the city, receiving his invitation to the banquet after he had left his estate. However his travelling clothes were most unsuitable, as were the clothes he had worn earlier that day during training. He therefore selected his only viable option, the clothes of all black that he had worn during the mourning period following the death of his father. They were nowhere near as fine as he knew would be expected of an imperial banquet, but they would have to do. He changed quickly, pinning the scarlet fox of his family to his chest and pocketing his invitation. Taking care to lock the door behind him, he donned his hat and walked off in the direction of the palace, struggling to contain his anticipation of meeting such a fine collection of nobles
Roleplay from Staedtler la Stylo
Staedtler began his third day within this new, beautiful continent pushing beans about his bowl with his fingers, uncomfortably seated upon the camp supplies. As his retinue make their own morning meals over the dying campfire, Staedtler's scribe, Hannity, goes over their invitation for an eighth time. Staedtler cleans his plate and tosses a chunk of firewood over to the feet of the designated cook - a leathery apron hanging over his tabard - who promptly drops it into the flame. A cloud of ashen cinders ploom about his feet, smothering the pan of sausages to a chorus of groans. No man under the La Couvercle de la Stylo banner truly knew how to cook better than any other. In truth, the armour they wear is as deceiving as the apron in that none of them deserved to don in. They were not traditional soldiers. Most of the unit had never been in a fight, some hadn't even sparred before. One of the men had never even worn a gamebeson before three days ago, often found to be wearing the thing back-to-front on more than one occasion. Hannity technically had more combat experience than a good quart of the force, having once lost a fist-fight outside a classroom when he was a student of literature. The La Couvercle de la Stylo are a small collection of college pals and academics; educated toffs bumbling about the countryside roads, eating nothing but cold beans in the time between civilisation, guffawing about the golden days of their educations back home. If they spent more time marching and less time collecting flora, sketching the landscape, and rambling about poetry then they might've made it to Giask itself by now. Staedtler is in a constant cold sweat, always asking for the time and date, anxious for an unfashionably late arrival to the first banquet he would attend as a knight. Reputations are a dangerous thing, especially since he would sorely be pressed to earn them with a sword in his hand rather than a quill. A timely arrival would establish a healthy president of efficacy for Staedtler. Lateness would betray the true fool hidden beneath.
Hannity concludes the recital of the invitation and takes a quaff of water from his flagon, wiping sweat from his neck with a wet towel. Staedtler had not been listening, however, and asks him to repeat it again. For clarity's sake, naturally.
Roleplay from Nicholas Archival
It was set to be a short journey across the eastern, smaller stretch of the Euschean Sea. The Myrmidon was a repurposed warship, made obsolete by naval advancement. It provided an efficient - if not comfortable - ride. The waters appeared calm enough, giving the blessing of smooth sailing. Askileon was quickly shrinking in the distance, left behind. The arrival at Giask drew ever closer.
Nicholas explored the ship, driven by a restless nervousness. He had given the Swords leave to entertain themselves during the trip. For their dutiful marching, they deserved the rest. It would not be appropriate for him to lose face before them, though a lump had continued to persist at the back of his throat. Giask represented everything he had been prepared for. Everything he had been trained for. He was acutely aware that any failure to match the lofty heights of Luria’s greatest city would not serve him well.
Deep breaths, he reminded himself. Nicholas gulped in the fresh sea air, pausing as he looked out across the azure waves. His bout of panic began to subside and his good sense once more prevailed. He sighed; this kind of weakness he would have to set aside once he arrived at the capital. The knight shook his head, dark tresses windblown by the gusts. It was ridiculous - he had faced numerous men more skilled and more experienced at arms without flinching, but the idea of a banquet caused him to panic.
Nicholas squared his shoulders and returned indoors to the Swords, who raised their mugs and tankards in salute. Giask awaited.
Roleplay from Benedict Dupont
Arrival at the Feast
The journey from the estate to the Palace took longer than expected, as the route seemed winding and unfamiliar. The days since Benedict arrived at his new estate had been filled with a list of things to attend to, and the intimidating presence of the Palace looming over him only furthered his procrastination in attending the feat. One must make an appearance, Benedict, he told himself this morning, and after an hour choosing a suitable outfit and a clean shave, he set off through the twisting streets towards that great monument to the men he aspired to be.
Although this was his first time in the Palace grounds, Benedict was not a stranger to the city proper, and had little trouble from the guards as he passed through those great doors and was swiftly directing by servants towards the Feast. As he entered the Great Hall, the cavernous size defying what the outside view suggested, Benedict's mind raced as his eyes and ears were assaulted with scenes of magnificent grandeur. Countless nobles and Lords milled around, eating and drinking many of the glorious foods and drinks displayed in the hall. They make it look so easy, Benedict worried as he saw nobles converse with higher Lords with grace and confidence. How am I ever going to manage that without breaking into a sweat?
As if to add to his fear, Benedict realised he had been walking slowly as he mused. Not too far away, in his path, was Aldrakar Renodin, Imperial Magistrate of Luria Nova, Royal of Luria Nova, Duke of Earth's Hall, Margrave of Poryatown, talking to a young noble. Benedict quickly corrected his course, making a swift move towards the nearest servant.
"First, wine, I will be needing lots of wine", he muttered to himself.
This was going to be a long feast.
Roleplay from William Fitz Roberts
William walked at a brisk pace through the city of Giask. Being unfamiliar with the city, he had got totally turned around and now was late. He was furious with himself not only for acquiring a guide, but for failing to make much progress in his duelling, despite having hired the finest master he could come across. He was beginning to realise that nothing could beat real combat experience. No matter, he would return to the field soon. But for now he had a banquet to attend.
He finally arrived at the gates to the palace and presented his invitation to the guard at the gates. He was hurried through to the hall, but as he arrived a steward demanded to see his invitation once more. Puzzled, William handed over his invite. He saw the steward's eyes widen with something like glee as he glanced over the letter. He had seen that look before. He had seen it all his life.
'Sir William Fitz Roberts, eh', the steward said, placing emphasis on the Fitz. 'Why would someone of your lineage be attending such an occasion'
'If you must know, my family was legitimised 3 generations ago. I am certainly more noble than you. Now if you don't mind, I have a banquet to attend'. He snatched the letter from the steward, who stood their in shock at the bluntness with which William had dared speak. William pushed him aside and entered the hall. He sighed. He knew that would not be the only person to question his name before the night was through
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CONTINUED
Roleplay from Nicholas Archival
Nicholas inspected himself in the ornate, gold-encrusted mirror. He grimaced at what he saw. Broad-shouldered and chested, but stocky. Long in the face and too solemn by far. Although his attire, crafted of expensive silks, was of fine quality, befitting a nobleman of the realm, it felt a superficial sham. He tugged on his cloak, adjusting the clasp; it was a sweeping thing, black with a gold trim. Though he would have sooner arrived in armour befitting the battlefield, it would have to do.
His first day in the capital had led up to this. Trudging through the aristocratic sections of the city, a grim-faced youth amidst a sea of colour and esteem. Visiting the most vaunted barbers and tailors in Giask, to ensure he would arrive at the feast in a manner befitting a Knight of Poryatown and nobleman of Luria. The noise had felt deafening; a cacophony of voices and sounds, a far cry from the edge of the empire he was comfortable with.
The Swords had been left with their new additions, having finished the day’s training, while Nicholas himself had left for the palace. The guards had let him pass without much fuss, recognising quickly his stature. Guards, the common soldiery, these were people he knew how to deal with. Honest, simple men without lofty ambition. No doubt the guests within the palace were to be of a different species altogether. It did not soothe him to think that.
Eventually, with a deep inhale of air, Nicholas strode away from the mirror and continued down the pristine corridor. As he approached the great hall, a trio of women of the court tittered at the sight of him. Is my cloak unclasped again? Do I look ridiculous? Doubts beset him, but it was too late to turn tail and run. He had seen the undead before; a few border skirmishes in the Archival Estate had given him that. But those creatures did not instil in him such fear as this - with steeled nerves, he entered.
He looked across the huge room, taking in all the majesty the palace revealed, grey eyes too bland by far for such sights. Striding forth with the rigid discipline of a seasoned soldier - and stiff by the standards of a courtier - he approached a nearby servant, while his attention was caught by the sight he had hoped for after but a few goblets of wine. Aldrakar Renodin; his liege. It seemed as though the King of Earth’s Hall was occupied with another, a man he supposed he recognised from the streets of Poryatown, though could not place a name to the face.
Sir Nicholas plucked a goblet, heavy with wine, and took a long gulp. As he considered his options, he caught some words, quietly spoken as though without the intent to be overheard. It was convenient was so closely placed. He glanced sidelong to see another of the court - apparently within the same position as he.
"First, wine, I will be needing lots of wine", he muttered to himself.
~ Benedict Dupont
“That would be you and I both, sir,†Nicholas remarked, a faint smile touching his lips with wine not long to follow. “Sir Nicholas Archival, Knight of Poryatown. And you?†he asked. Confidence amongst cowards was an easy thing to find.
Roleplay from Benedict Dupont
With one strong gulp, the wine was gone. The rich, fruity tones were lost on Benedict as he searched for more, before setting his eyes on a full jug to his right.
He was lost in the pouring of another glass when the words of a man next to him jarred him from his trance.
“Sir Nicholas Archival, Knight of Poryatown. And you?â€
It took a moment for Benedict to focus on the man next to him. From his words he occupied a similar station, and from his wine he was in a similar situation. Benedict smiled, for it was comforting to know he was not the only nervous noble at the Feast.
He finishes pouring his glass, although with a few spills, and replies:
"Ah, greetings good sir... Ah, pleasure to make your acquaintance."
He extends a hand.
"Sir Benedict Dupont, Knight of Giask."
He takes a strong swig of wine, his figure becoming relaxed as the liquid works it's magic.
Roleplay from William Fitz Roberts
Sir William turned as he heard two names he recognised. He had corresponded with both a sir Benedict and a Sir Nicholas. Could these be the same men? Unsure as to how to act in these situations (courtly etiquette was not something taught in the Fitz Roberts household) he walked over to the two figures and, gulping down some wine before he spoke, said
'did hear correctly? You are so Nicholas and Sir Benedict?', William extends his hand to one and then the other, waiting for them to finish their greetings to one another before interrupting, 'I am Sir William Fitz Roberts, I believe I have shared letters with both of you? It is excellent to put a face to words on a page'
Roleplay from Donald Augustus Allan
Donald Augustus arrives at the Feast
Evening had fallen upon Giask and the cooling evening air hung about the capital, under the moonlight the city looked peaceful and quiet, almost tranquil. But this illusion was soon to be banished as Donald Augustus headed towards the main gate of the Great Hall, and even as he approached he could hear the clamour and excitement of merriment and festivities, as if to defy what would have been a simple evening. Moving towards the hall he placed his hands on the great wooden doors, pushing them aside and stepping from the dark in to the brightly lit room.
As the door swung wide a gust of cold air entered with Sir Donald, causing his golden locks to dance in the light as if they too had joined the festivities. His golden face lit up in to a merry grin as he scanned the gathered crown and caught the site of the abundance of alcohol. Moving further inwards he seemed to glide across the floor, dressed in bright flamboyant robes and a matching cape decorated with the sigil of his house. His doublet was velvet green and blue with scenes of merriment and drinking carefully woven in silver fabric.
A group of fine ladies, gathered in a small circle, stood in his path but Donald Augustus carefully penetrated their ranks, smiling gracefully as he went by. Just as he parted these fashionable noblewomen his delicate yet firm hand brushed one of theirs and in that moment of blissful contact, she swooned. And was fortunately caught by one of her companions. Stepping in to the centre of the Great Hall he acquired a goblet of wine from the silver platter of a nearby servant and sought out a group of nearby noblemen.
"Greetings!" he spoke, his voice like silk upon the ears "I am Sir Donald Augustus, a Knight of Askileon"
Roleplay from Nicholas Archival
“And you, Sir Benedict.â€
Nicholas clasped Benedict’s hand, shaking it firmly. At the very least, he did not give a weak handshake. With his smile yet in place, he inclined his head courteously in recognition of his fellow aristocrat. As he moved to respond, the voice of another cut through to claim his attention.
As William introduced himself to the two of them, Nicholas turned to regard the man he had shared correspondance with. He raised his glass in recognition, taking a second mouthful of the crimson wine he had selected, before reaching forward to shake his hand.
“Ah- Sir William. I was wondering whether I would find you here. It is good, indeed, to make your personal acquaintance--â€
With the booming voice of Sir Donald, echoing throughout the hall, Nicholas fell into another silence. The name did, however, ring a bell. The knight took a few moments to place it, before it came to him.
“So that would be the man, Sir Donald, who claimed to the Emperor himself to be the most handsome knight in Luria,†he thought.
Nicholas resolved to watch and wait, to see what the loudmouth would do next. At the very least, it might provide a good show.
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More Roleplays from the new Lurians. Newcomers to the game whom are quick in proving valuable assets to the game.
Roleplay from Matthew Coffey
The proceedings had begun, that much Matthew could tell from the myriad sounds coming from the Golden Palace. The smooth marble steps heralding his ascent, with armoured guards keeping watchful vigil like chiselled statues, complementing the architecture as well as providing a stalwart defence over their betters. Matthew travelled with one other, a servant it seemed, accompanying him exactly two steps behind at all times and keeping pace like a well trained lapdog. The young man looked over his shoulder to double check, offering a thin smile to the servant, who returned it. Superficial of course, neither particularly got along with the other, nor did Matthew expect it, they were of different breeds now, after all. Still, a trained and delicate hand to fetch him wine or deliver messages when he were trapped in conversation would be useful, no, necessary at this event.
​He nodded to the guards as he moved through the great Palace doors, entering a preliminary corridor, studded with grandiose artwork along its length. Music drifted down the gargantuan hallway, as did the laughter, speaking of good things to come. Matthew welcomed it. He was at home here, whilst all the bravado might follow him on the battlefield and in his speeches, it was the courts that called. Here he was in his element, as his former tutor always noted with mild derision, a now deceased knight whom he owed much for his squiring. Horsemanship and swordplay are one thing, but it was never these things that brought his family this far, he reminded himself. As lowly as commerce and hard work might be, his lineage always preferred mercantile and academic pursuits, with only a handful of ancestors appreciating the sword. It was a good thing Lurians prided meritocracy, unlike many other realms, otherwise his new life may never have come to be.
​A curt nod came to the steward collecting invitations; manservant swiftly heeding the silent order with the bejewelled letter that Matthew had received from his overlord, Aldrakar Renodin. He entered without taking the briefest glance back, arrogant assumption that he was granted passage and that this was where he belonged. The open doors released a cacophony of sweet imperial grandeur. Confident that his simple purple tunic with white hose, embellished with but a sturdy leather belt, was dressed enough. The quality of the material could not be disputed, velvet from D'hara, or maybe Madina. It wasn't local, that was certain. Matthew made note to keep his jewellery to merely his signet ring, a golden serpent pinned to his tunic and a single golden ring, set with a modest pink tourmaline, on his right index finger. One could also not forget their sword or dagger, as much a part of his dress here as on the battlefield, his former tutor had informed him. He didn't dispute it, and whilst thinking it unnecessary to have a sword, he certainly felt the knife might have practical applications of opening letters or eating with at least. Neither were particularly impressive at the hilt, but the scabbards were lined with silver swirling patterns, a mild attempt at prettying up what was essentially a butchers tool.
​"Sir Matthew Coffey, knight of Summerhill Hall." heralded his servant dutifully and clearly, though Matthew expected the formality would be lost on the din of music and chatter throughout the great hall. Nevertheless, he stood tall, gazing over the crowds once. Then twice. Slowly and methodically, casting his eyes about for his overlord first, and then his liege. Not seeing Dubhaine about the thronging noble and servile crowds, he strode toward Renodin with purpose. Spotting the king was no effort really, his presence was given due distance from lesser nobles and his attire alone had him standing out like a sore thumb. Good for Matthew, at least. Thankfully, the training he'd been conducting saw him fill out his tunic a bit more so than usual, hopefully betraying his youth. With his charcoal hair bobbing about the shoulders as he approached at some speed, he motioned for his servant to come forth. Having arrived at his destination, being dwarfed somewhat by Aldrakar's trained physique and kingly bearing, the young knight bowed deeply to his king. He did not rise until he was spoken to.
​Once Aldrakar had recognised the young knight, he cleared his throat before speaking clearly yet softly, "Sir Matthew Coffey, at your service, my king. I come bearing a humble gift as gratitude for your invite, I hope it is worthy of finding itself in your secondary collections." He offered forth a letter to the king, signed in his own hand, for a stallion that had come from his own stud up in Summerhill, currently stabled with no expense spared at the Palace stables. "I trust he will serve you faithfully and fully." Retreating a step, Matthew smiled briefly, inclining his head to the man.
​This would be good night already, he could tell.
Roleplay from Benedict Dupont
As the firm handshake from Nicholas ended, Benedict was able to take a more restrained mouthful of wine than before, his confidence slowly coming back to him. Before he could take his second sip, a new noble makes his way towards the two.
"Did hear correctly? You are so Nicholas and Sir Benedict?"
The man extends his hand towards Nicholas, and then to Benedict once the former had returned his grip, introducing himself to the two of them.
"I am Sir William Fitz Roberts, I believe I have shared letters with both of you? It is excellent to put a face to words on a page"
So this was the man with whom Benedict shared a brief correspondence with the other day, it was pleasing to be able to put a face to the name.
"A pleasure to meet you, Sir, how are you enjoying the fe-" Benedict attempts to say as the loud voice of an unknown man echoes in their direction.
"Greetings!" He spoke, the arrogance prickling Benedict's nerve "I am Sir Donald Augustus, a Knight of Askileon".
Before Benedict is able to respond to this newcomer, a sharp whistle pierced the air around him, cutting the conversation like a hot knife through butter. Benedict turned to see who had warranted such attention, and from whom. Unfortunately the answer to both questions were not to Benedict's liking, as the King of Earth Hall was beckoning to none other than himself and his nearby acquaintances, a look of sharp intent in his eyes. Benedict quickly quaffed what remained of his second glass before adjusting his posture and striding over. The heat of the wine had started to warm Benedict's body, and the last vestiges of nervousness had begun to leave. However, this was Aldrakar Renodin, not some mere noble vying for attention.
First thing... Benedict thought to himself, the first thing I need to do is present myself, bow, and await his response... Easy as that. Or so he hoped.
Benedict had not looked back, so was unaware whether he had company has he walked purposefully towards the man who's stature seemed to grow larger with each passing step.
Then... A reprieve.
The young knight barged past Benedict, and straight into the presence of the King, bowing as soon as he arrived.
"Sir Matthew Coffey, at your service, my king."
As the knight drawled on in front of Aldrakar Renodin, Benedict was able to steady himself. Taking up a position behind the postulating noble, he remarked how the King responded to this young man's introduction, taking up mental notes of how each action was received.
By the time the two were finished, Benedict's confidence was back in full force, and he approached the King, taking a deep bow as he did.
"My name is Benedict Dupont, a Knight of Giask, a pleasure to be at your service, my King".
Roleplay from Nicholas Archival
It took Nicholas a moment to catch his bearings. So many words, gestures and smells all continued to assail him at once, unabated by notions of tact and timing. After the moment passed, his focus found its mark: Aldrakar Renodin was gesturing him - them - forward. Sir Benedict and Sir William no longer held his attention; it would be unwise to turn his focus away from the man seated upon the throne. With his goblet, of which he had only drunk two mouthfuls of, set aside onto the tray of a passing servant, Nicholas moved into a smooth stride toward Aldrakar. Though clad in the luxurious silks of an aristocratic, his gait yet remained in much the fashion of a professional soldier; efficient and forthright. The knight had little movement or thought to spare for flamboyance - though his cloak did much of the job for him.
As he approached, any discomfort began to fade. It had been the build-up causing him nerves, overthinking his expectations for the gathering. Without sparing a glance to the many courtiers and aristocrats arrayed in the Great Hall - many of whom eyed the Knight of Poryatown himself with envy - Nicholas quickly arrived to place himself within the King's presence. It was then he acknowledged the presence of Sir Matthew - the gallant, glory hound who had called for so many of his fellow knights. He was much less than Nicholas pictured; there was no impressive warrior-to-be. In his place was a youth, more courtier than knight. A boy making pretend that he was a man; Nicholas knew the type. Perhaps this was the way of things in capital. He had not the experience to judge for certain.
Regardless, upon approaching Aldrakar, Nicholas took his place after Sir Benedict and fell to one knee. He drew his sword - a decorative heirloom, inlaid with gleaming silver - and held it before him, his gesture of fealty. The knight looked up, directing his blue-grey eyes to make contact with the monarch's. At close inspection for Aldrakar to view, Nicholas appeared to be swiftly on his way to becoming more man than boy; broad-shouldered, strong-jawed and with any softness of boyhood melted away through the trials of sword and steel. His hair, a dark-brown, was kept in the comfortable middle-ground of style and practicality. In the short breath before speech, he took in his liege; now this was an impressive man. Much as he had imagined him to be, opposing the relative disappointment of Sir Matthew. With all the rigid, military discipline he had come to find comfort in, he addressed the King with the utmost respect:
"My king, I am Sir Nicholas Archival, Knight of Poryatown. I am humbly at your service, and thank you for your most generous invitation to this feast. My sword is yours."
Service, respect, fealty. These he had been readied for. These he knew. Courtly etiquette would come in time to follow, no doubt.
Roleplay from William Fitz Roberts
Sir William turned at hearing the whistle. He decided to let Sir Benedict introduce himself before he did, to give him time to assess what this king was like. He was his better, certainly. However, William was not one to be played like a fiddle and decided that he would rather Benedict be made a fool of than himself. He followed behind his fellow knight and, upon reaching the king, bowed, but remained silent besides a courteous 'my king', waiting to see how this would unfold.
Roleplay from Ceryn Onyxis
A Sharp Tongue
More than a few faces turned to Aldrakar in confusion and surprise. Some of them smiling as they thought it was they, Aldrakar, had motioned at. His gaze was quite direct however and his eyes looked straight at the trio. ‘’Ceryn, this’ll be fun.’’ Aldrakar glanced mischievously at the knight. ‘’Bust their balls a bit when they come over.’’ The words spoken in a soft voice and where accompanied by a small smirk.
-Aldrakar Renodin
Ceryn, having taken a seat in one of the chairs King Aldrakar had indicated, turned his head towards the first of the knights to approach. The knight handed Aldrakar a letter after introducing himself; a gift of some sort, based on the words of the knight. The knight stepped back from Aldrakar, and Ceryn rose and proffered his hand in greeting.
"It is good to meet you. Sir Matthew Coffey, was it? Of Summerhill Hall? I am Ceryn Onyxis, Knight of Poryatown. Always a pleasure to meet fellow Lurian nobility. Tell me, have you met Sir Cream? I think you and he would get along splendidly." Ceryn waited for realization to dawn on the knight's face at the joke. "Forgive me, sometimes I cannot help myself when such amusements arise in my head. Truly, it is good to meet you. I do like coffee; I'm sure it will be an honor to serve alongside you."
Ceryn turned his attention to the gathered knights more generally. "It is an honor to serve alongside all of you. I would be a fool not to realize how well-trained these new knights of Luria are; you all answer to a whistle! As is the duty of all knights, of course."
Ceryn glanced around the knights, looking towards the party. "I hear the handsomest knight in all of Luria is in attendance. Have any of you seen him? One would think his presence would be obvious in the crowd, but I'll admit I can't make him out." With this, Ceryn took a large sip of his wine glass. My, this wine is good. I will have to remember that wine steward; perhaps I can convince him to train mine a bit.
-
Continued:
Roleplay from William Fitz Roberts
Sir William watched in silence, waiting to be addressed. He noted the words of the man on the King's left. He would have to watch that one. If he was willing to joke at the expense of a name like Coffey, what would he make of a Fitz? He braced himself, preparing to defend his lineage. He had been right not to lead with his name.
-
And, the long awaited! (not really I guess) response from Aldrakar! A king being not all that Kingly after all hehe.
Meeting the King
Having whistled and not caring for what people thought about that, Aldrakar quietly enjoyed the breach of etiquette. The Nobles that leaned too heavily on protocol were the ones he disliked most. Always powdering their noses and keeping the most bizarre of pets. Particular rat-like, little dogs. He hated those.
With shoulder length, raven hair Sir Matthew Coffey was the first to reach him. The young man waited politely for a moment and made sure Aldrakar duly acknowledged him. An almost automatic and near imperceptible nod made it so.
Once Aldrakar had recognised the young knight, he cleared his throat before speaking clearly yet softly, "Sir Matthew Coffey, at your service, my king. I come bearing a humble gift as gratitude for your invite, I hope it is worthy of finding itself in your secondary collections." He offered forth a letter to the king, signed in his own hand, for a stallion that had come from his own stud up in Summerhill, currently stabled with no expense spared at the Palace stables. "I trust he will serve you faithfully and fully." Retreating a step, Matthew smiled briefly, inclining his head to the man.
~ Matthew Coffey
Rather than waiting on a servant to mediate the gesture of handing the letter over, Aldrakar rose from his Throne and reached out to take it. In the process showing that he wasn’t beneath doing things himself and at the same time showing the young man that the hand that grasped the letter was strong and bore the marks of battle. Tiny scars that indicated failed parries, ill fitting gauntlets and the sort.
Listening to the remaining words coming from Matthew, Aldrakar opened the letter and looked it over momentarily. Is it a Rouncey or does the boy have the guts to offer me a hunter or perhaps even a destrier Aldrakar wondered. Hearing the silence lengthen, Aldrakar looked up at Matthew. ‘’Thank you, you must have done your homework. Not too far away from the Palace you’ll find the Rendorian Equestrian Academy.’’ As if he was in a private conversation with a long lost friend, Aldrakar stretched out his arm and pointed in the rough direction of where said Academy was. ‘’My son trained there and some of the Empire’s finest cavalry men and steeds come from there.’’ Good choice of gift.’’ Aldrakar made a smile that looked awefully much like a grin. ‘’Come see me there sometime, we’ll test your horse against some of mine.’’
Around this time Sir Ceryn Onyxis chimed in and threw out a taunt and a jest.
"It is good to meet you. Sir Matthew Coffey, was it? Of Summerhill Hall? I am Ceryn Onyxis, Knight of Poryatown. Always a pleasure to meet fellow Lurian nobility. Tell me, have you met Sir Cream? I think you and he would get along splendidly." Ceryn waited for realization to dawn on the knight's face at the joke. "Forgive me, sometimes I cannot help myself when such amusements arise in my head. Truly, it is good to meet you. I do like coffee; I'm sure it will be an honor to serve alongside you."
~Ceryn Onyxis
Aldrakar waited a moment and keenly observed the young knights before him. If any of them were hotheads, he’d rather know about, sooner, rather than later. All the while busying himself with putting Matthew’ letter down on the little table beside the throne.
By the time the two were finished, Benedict's confidence was back in full force, and he approached the King, taking a deep bow as he did.
"My name is Benedict Dupont, a Knight of Giask, a pleasure to be at your service, my King".
~ Benedict Dupont
Aldrakar awarded the young knight’s introduction with another of those well rehearsed and nearly imperceptible nods. He then made a bit of a show of looking Benedict up and down, as if inspecting a cow he might buy and himself being a rancher. ‘’Giask you say?’’ A frown started to appear on his face. ‘’Heavy responsibility.. heavy indeed.’’ The words were close to being mumbled. Then, suddenly, Aldrakar’s expression turned and out came a smile. ‘’There’s a long history of distinguished serve from the Knights of Giask. Former Kings, Generals and heroes have gone before you. Giask is the greatest City on all of Dwilight and you best remember that Benedict.’’ He paused a moment before continuing in a softer voice. ‘’Also, better to drink brandy rather than wine if you need some more liquid courage in the future.’’ Aldrakar nodded sagely.
From taking his time observing Aldrakar Benedict could certainly discern that the aging man had the bearing of a warrior long before he ever wore a crown. Broad shouldered and with a chest that bespoke of a long wind fit for running or indeed, fighting in armour. From his face it was clear Aldrakar had gotten used to being surrounded by important people and almost seemed to expect people to heed his word, as if this had been done many, many times in the past.
Upon approaching Aldrakar, Nicholas took his place after Sir Benedict and fell to one knee. He drew his sword - a decorative heirloom, inlaid with gleaming silver - and held it before him, his gesture of fealty. The knight looked up, directing his blue-grey eyes to make contact with the monarch's. At close inspection for Aldrakar to view, Nicholas appeared to be swiftly on his way to becoming more man than boy; broad-shouldered, strong-jawed and with any softness of boyhood melted away through the trials of sword and steel. His hair, a dark-brown, was kept in the comfortable middle-ground of style and practicality. In the short breath before speech, he took in his liege; now this was an impressive man. Much as he had imagined him to be, opposing the relative disappointment of Sir Matthew. With all the rigid, military discipline he had come to find comfort in, he addressed the King with the utmost respect:
"My king, I am Sir Nicholas Archival, Knight of Poryatown. I am humbly at your service, and thank you for your most generous invitation to this feast. My sword is yours."
~ Nicholas Archival
Seeing Sir Nicholas bend the knee and offer the formal displays of fealty Aldrakar felt a sense of pride swell in his chest. Nodding deftly he himself rose from his Throne and touched the blade, centre wise.
Aldrakar looked across the room and saw those that beheld them, the small group of Knights in front of the King of Earth hall. Standing as he did, expectation rose and so, the Monarch spoke:
‘’Sir Nicholas, Knight of Poryatown.’’ A measured pause followed. “And to your Oath I shall hold you. Until such a time that I release you from it or death does claim you. In turn I will provide you with an upkeep suitable to your service rendered onto me. Providing enough so that you may command a company of good and loyal men in my name and do battle for the pleasure of the Realm and our Sovereign master, The Emperor.†Aldrakar raised his chin and his face hardened with patriotic pride
“I swear to do right by you as long as your Oath is strong and shelter you in my homes, provide you cloth to garb your body in and see to the nourishment that grants you life. Justice shall be mine to give and my hand to shield you from the evil of others. This is my sacred vow onto you as Liege and I accept your Oath.†Another pause. “The estate known as ‘Noble Manor Square' is now yours by bond and oath, use it wisely.†Aldrakar took his time to swallow and take in a lungful of air.
“Sir Nicholas, you do me proud and make swell my heart with hope as the future just turned to a stark Gold against the black night sky.’’
The old oath Aldrakar used for his sworn Knights. This one shows promise. He thought to himself. Another lingering thought suggested to that the youth looked akin to his eldest son, Aldrakar II.
Sir William turned at hearing the whistle. He decided to let Sir Benedict introduce himself before he did, to give him time to assess what this king was like. He was his better, certainly. However, William was not one to be played like a fiddle and decided that he would rather Benedict be made a fool of than himself. He followed behind his fellow knight and, upon reaching the king, bowed, but remained silent besides a courteous 'my king', waiting to see how this would unfold.
~ William Fitz Roberts
Thirdly, Aldrakar looked upon the features of Sir William. The beard stood out but more so the way the man kept to himself and displayed restraint. ‘’Sir Knight.’’ Aldrakar responded in kind. ‘’What might be your name? For you lack in the giving of it.’’ Aldrakar gave a brief yet stern look. ‘’No matter, what is in a man’s name? It what a man does that counts.’’ Looking William squarely in the eye. ‘’There’s more doing in there than prattling isn’t there.’’ Aldrakar paused. A time in which thoughts crossed the Monarch’s face. ‘’After this banquet is over, you will seek out and report to the Imperial Marshal Cador. He is my friend and sworn brother.’’ The words accompanied with a fist placed onto his own heart. ‘’There you will ask him to take you under his wing.’’ Knowing this was an order, Aldrakar observed William to see if he took it well. ‘’Cador will show you the ropes. Blade in hand, yes? Do well and know that I will be watching.’’ Aldrakar relaxed. ‘’If you do particularly well, you might earn yourself a Vice-Marshal title.’’
‘’If you fail to impress Cador however, you’ll prove yourself every bit as effeminate as that one over there.’’ Aldrakar blatantly pointed in the general direction of Sir Donald Augustus Allan. Aldrakar finished his address by offering William a small yet private smile. Hoping to encourage the youth.
Having concluded his initial words he took a sip of his wine and looked over at Ceryn. “You were so very hard on them. Play nice.†Offering a conspiratorial wink while his nose was buried in the wineglass.
-
Hey there! It's been a bit but here I am again with two RPs. Its a Knighting story with oath swearing included. I like to do these sorts of things on occasion to show the players what we're actually doing when taking up estates and gain titles. Hoe you enjoy it.
Roleplay from the player of Myr Arnickles Renodin
A snowflake made of purest silver, shimmering in the dawning sun - that is the impression one would have looking at it from afar. From up close the mix of marble, granite and limestone in rich areas and chalky mudbricks in poor areas of this metropolis, bathing travelers in shocking amounts of light was even more impressive. Absorbing the wonders of the Silver City walked young Myr, his mouth failing to remain closed. The shadows growing shorter informed him that it was getting late. "You don't get knighted by pretermiting one of knightly virtues!" - he thought to himself as he hastened the pace.
Arriving at The Rendorian Imperial Complex he marveled - mouth agape - at the columns and cobblestones, the spacey hall and the ceiling. As his eyes finally wandered to the figure in the prominent place of the room, he forced his mouth closed and assuming the most dignified gait he could manage he walked towards the man in front of highly decorated chair.
Performing genuflexion Myr said the words:
"I - Myr Arnickles Renodin - do solemnly swear my oath of fealty to my rightful liege, Margrave of Askileon - Aldrakar Renodin, and to the Kingdom of Moon Hall, in person of Royal Aldrakar Renodin.
I swear my Imperial Loyalty to the Hegemony of Luria Nova and His Imperial Highness - Suzerein Emperor Aldrakar Renodin.
To my blood and honour I swear to serve and protect my rightful liege and my realm, with all my will and all my might, and give my life - should it ever be requested.
This is my oath."
Finishing the speech he pounded his chest three times, representing three degrees of sovereign faelty he sworn. Expecting the touch of the sword and handing of the deed for estate he anxiously looked up.
He saw a man of most regal provenance. The aura of gold and silver surrounded him. His hair - originally of golden hue - now were hinted with silvery shades. His shape was strong, with majestic shoulderguards adorning already broad shoulders. In battle with passing time the Emperor hadn't given up much of the field, he endured it artfully - his face, other than with several battle-scars, wasn't showing his age at all. His blue eyes met young knight-to-be's stare with kindheartedness, there was some universally paternal care in them, as if he viewed all subjects of the Lurian Empire as his children in a way.
Myr thought to himself - "Is it truly possible that in my veins flows the same, albeit watered down, blood?"
He then lowered his stare to the polished marble, in which he saw his own reflection. His dark eyes went from frizzy hairs at the top to his boyish face, his dark cheeks contorted in a catlike grin, his lean frame and considerable length of his torso, his long, athletic legs and finally to his well-worn footwear at the bottom. Thankfully most of this was masked with a plate armour of lesser quality, altough polished to look as knightly as possible.
The oath of Myr Arnickles Renodin
"I - Myr Arnickles Renodin - do solemnly swear my oath of fealty to my rightful liege, Margrave of Askileon - Aldrakar Renodin, and to the Kingdom of Moon Hall, in person of Royal Aldrakar Renodin.
I swear my Imperial Loyalty to the Hegemony of Luria Nova and His Imperial Highness - Suzerein Emperor Aldrakar Renodin.
To my blood and honour I swear to serve and protect my rightful liege and my realm, with all my will and all my might, and give my life - should it ever be requested.
This is my oath."
Finishing the speech he pounded his chest three times, representing three degrees of sovereign faelty he sworn. Expecting the touch of the sword and handing of the deed for estate he anxiously looked up.
Letting the words hang in the air, Aldrakar beheld this scion of the bloodline mingled with his own. He looked healthy yet the complexion of his skin distinguished him clearly from the main Renodinian Bloodline. He still recalled the letter from the daimon infested continent of Beluaterra. From Astros, informing him of the new Cadet Branch. ''Arnickles Renodin'' the name felt awkward as it rolled off his tongue. Without pausing he unsheathed a now shimmering blade in the cascading light that spilled in from the tall windows. Engraved with the symbols of House Renodin and decorated in fine gold around the guard. Holding it up straight Aldrakar spoke.
''And to your Oath I shall hold you. Until such a time that I release you from it or death does claim you. In turn I will provide you with an upkeep suitable to your service rendered onto me. Providing enough so that you may command a company of good and loyal men in my name and do battle for the pleasure of the Realm and its Sovereign master, The Emperor.''
A small pause fell as Aldrakar's gaze left little to question who that person was before resuming.
''I swear to do right by you as long as your Oath is strong and shelter you in my homes, provides you cloth to garb your body in and see to the nourishment that grands you life. Justice shall be mine to give and my hand to shield you from the evil of others. This is my sacred vow onto you as Liege and I accept your Oath.
The estate known as Heir's Gate is now yours by bond and oath, use it wisely.
Sir Myr, you do me proud and make swell my heart with hope as the future just turned to a stark Gold against the black night sky.''
The imperial blade wielded in Aldrakar's hand moved with measured grace and touched Myr first on the left shoulder, rested there for but a moment and then moved on to touch the right shoulder. Sheathing the sword Aldrakar deigned to lean a little bit closer to Myr and whispered something to the young man. The words impossible to all but those blessed with dog's hearing from catching. So Myr was accepted as an Imperial Knight of the Hegemony. His tale yet begun and already, finding himself with huge shoes to fill.
In a private RP I send the following message to the player of Myr Arnickles Renodin:
Leaning close
The sound of Aldrakar's calm breath came as the ocean sends waves onto the shores. Rhythmic and strangely soothing. ''The line of Silhouettes has long been kept a secret, I am glad it can now stand in the light and add to our family glory. Be sure to act with utmost respect, be a man other men wish to be. Never falter in your duty and show courage even when you feel none. Treat women with dignity and protect those that cannot protect themselves. That is what it means to be Noble.''
Leaning back slightly, Aldrkar looked into the young man's eyes and offered a warm smile. ''Go now, make a name for yourself Myr.''
-
Hey there! Welcome, I've missed your presence. Got something different for you today. Not a battle or political situation, rather, a normal day. One of those days that make the other days worth it. That's the feeling I hope to convey with this piece. Enjoy!
The end of the Day
The cool Euschean breeze made light his work and sooner made the affair of writing correspondence with various Nobles across Dwilight a joy rather than a chore. The sumptuous, crystal glass filled with an orange hued wine did it's part naturally to add to the experience. Half a dozen scroll cases were already filled with personal letters and a single vial of expensive ink stood sentinel as its contents was already drained and spend. Its purpose closer to that of a paperweight was it not for its staunch refusal to be used so. Staining fingers that so tried to impose their will upon it.
The day before the Rendorian Elite had escorted their charge to a snug little inn. Old enough to have memories of Luria Vesperi and lovingly maintained so that its roof beams yet looked sturdy below the thatched roof. Walls of natural stone covered with a graceful layer of weather granted patina. Butterflies and flower bearing vines embracing its sun touched surface. Making the small commercial abode fit in finely with its surroundings. The path leading down a gentle slope from the main road was reinforced with modest boulders and lined with old oaken roots allowing refuge to the mosses that couldn't suffer the brilliant afternoon sun. From a maple shuttered window Aldrakar looked out to the sea. Several local fishermen guiding their vessels over its mirror surface as they too sought hearth and home after a long day of work. Long shadows cast from their humble masts. Looking down at the shore Aldrakar spotted three children, two girls and a boy, play in the cerulean waters. Probably the brood of the Innkeeper Aldrakar mused. Their straw colored hair shone in the late day sun.
Drawing his attention back to his work, a deep frown imprinted itself upon his forehead. It was followed by an indulgent grin and his hand pushed the parchments away. Confined to the edges of the desk he was sat at. Moments later Aldrakar joined the children who had no clue about who he was. They couldn't identify him wearing fine but rather mundane clothing. Linnen breaches and a loose shirt with a v-neck left entirely unbound as to show some of the skin of his chest. Aldrakar shed his leather sandals and rolled up his trousers to just below the knees. Assisted by a moss covered rock of course as he gratefully leaned against it. Readying himself to join in on the play he felt the warm Euschean air touch his skin and he breathed it in deeply. Life is good. Pushing himself off from the rock he raised his hands and mimiced a monster. ''Brwwaaa! I'm gonna eat you!'' He plopped his feet into the waters of the sea and felt the softened pebbles mixed into the pearly sands below the surface. Excited squeals and the sound of rushing water danced into all of their ears and the sun smiled down its warming rays.
So the Emperor of all the Lurias ended his day on the road. One more day added to that short list of days worth living for.