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.
