Hey there. The following RP I wrote as Gomrin had arrived in his Region of Luhgrethen. Previously the King himself and several others had worked hard to restore the region to some semblance of functionality. Next the King send a letter to have all the realm prepare for his next big plan. Gomrin didn't see any positive signs what so ever in Luhgrethen and the send the king a letter that stated as much. Naturally the king wasn't all that pleased and neither was the Banker who brought food. Even Gomrin's Duchess spoke up and tapped him on the fingers.
Naturally, somebody had to take a fall.
The Long Day
Sitting in his comfy chair, the wooden throne of Luhgrethen and with the fireplace full of roaring flames did Gomrin finally take a breath. A moment to pauze and reflect. His great Hall was a mockery of the very word. -Great- it could barely contain 50 people, 35 more likely.
His eyes scanned over the rough timber walls and stopped every now and then to inspect a stuffed animal head, a particularly fine shield or of course, one of the nice and shiny axes. A pang of loss struck him as his hand felt not the familiar pommel of his Doom Hammer hanging from his belt. The mighty weapon lay ruined in some ditch or gulley. ''Damned beasts!'' Gomrin hissed through his teeth.
A creaking noise came from the double doored main entrance of the Great Hall. Gomrin looked up from his brooding and saw a skinny man enter the room. Kulfyrt was one of his scribes. The man's spiderly limbs, gaunt face and entirely too big eyes made Gomrin's skin crawl, every time again. ''Sire'' Kulfyrt uttered in his snakish voice. ''There are more people awaiting your justissse.'' An exited pitch to the man's voice.
''No, send them away.'' Gomrin's gruff reply came. His heavy eyebrows forming a deep frown ''Enough for today, I can't stand any more of their squabbling horse !@#$.'' The wooden throne sighed as Gomrin shifted his weight upon it. ''But sire.. There are so many still waiting. The day is yet filled with light and they have waited for such a long time..'' Kulfyrd crept closer and closer to the throne with each syllable uttered. His movement choppy and his head and face almost feline as he tried to woo the angry Lord of Luhgrethen with his toadish charm.
Closing his eyes to slids and sagging lazily on the throne Gomrin endured the scribe's approach. His thick right thumb pressed against his forehead as he tried to dispel a starting headache. ''The king sends word sire. He sounded a big upset Sire.'' A ghastly smile fashed over the Scribe's face. ''He thinks he worked hard for you Sire, that you don't appreciate him Sire.'' Kulfyrd had come into arm's lenght of the Wooden Throne and carefully edged closer still, his voice dropping lower and lower.
''Lord Crownguard says there is food in your granaries Sire... that you didn't see it sire..'' The scribe unleashed the words like water seeping through rock and with an accusatory tone almost entirely hidden. ''Then what are you doing telling me!'' Roared Gomrin at the feeble excuse of a man.
Pushing himself up from the Throne and to his full hight. ''How about your go and write to the King! What if you tell him there is nothing but snow and death here!'' Kulfyrd stumbled backwards and tried to retreat from his lord and master. Gomrin pushed the smaller man away. His hands like fleshy clubs that he used to molest the physcially weaker man. ''You know what you resemble Kulfyrd?!'' the two had soon reached the entrance to the great hall that still stood open and unbarred. ''I think your mother fancied bats Kulfyrd! Look at you!'' Gomrin ceased his advance for a moment to spread his arms wide and showered little Kulfyrd in blatant contempt. ''Your mother was so ugly only the Night Bird would have her!''
Something fronze in the little man and Kulfyrd reached for a hidden blade in his robes. ''Filthy Brute!'' He shrieked as he lashed out with the small but razor sharp blade. Gomrin dodged out of the way but too slow to escape the blade's bite. A red slash started to ooze blood on his left forearm. Kulfyrd looked in surprise and Gomrin's face contorted into a raging storm. ''Why you little..!'' Rage surged through Gomrin's veins. With both hands did he lift Kulfyrd from the ground like a child and rammed the little man's head against the unbarred door of the Greathall making it swing open. In a fluent motion Kulfyrd was tossed through the air and down the steps of the Great Hall. Landing heavily in the dirty slush that surrounded the building. A soft but distinct snap could be heard and Kulfyrd degenerated into a sobbing heap of broken humanity.
Standing at the entrance of the Great Hall Gomrin sobered from his anger as the Cold wind buffeted his face. The waiting peasants about filled with shock as they looked up at their Lord. ''Enough for today. Go home.'' Gomrin said with some scrap of dignity. With that the people dispersed and the day would finally perhaps, come to an end.
