Author Topic: The assorted bits of Aldrakar Renodin's Life  (Read 70312 times)

Renodin

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Re: The assorted bits of Aldrakar Renodin's Life
« Reply #60: August 03, 2014, 09:47:41 AM »
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.