Author Topic: The Tales of Nemean JeVondair Renodin  (Read 1549 times)

Renodin

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Re: The Tales of Nemean JeVondair Renodin
« Reply #15: June 05, 2019, 09:32:04 PM »

The Young Fox and the Grey Wolf
 

Quote
He put on an unenthusiastic grin after they finished their mutual greeting, and held the eye contact as he spoke a single sentence:

"So you are the hound lad, mhm?"

He kept staring right at Nemean, midly amused at the situation and moderately interested in his reaction.
~Guldor D'Espana



Being the focal point of attention wasn't a new thing. During his training by the Xerarch there had been plenty of eyes on him. From tutors, from servants and all manner of people that frequented the Selenia. Yet, this felt different. There was no easy atmosphere in which he could withdraw. Guidelines didn't exist out here where the enemy could strike at any moment. This old man, nearing a century old looked at him and there was no set etiquette he could defer to. He was compelled to answer and to maintain eye contact.

''Hound..'' Nemean blinked. ''Yes, I.. I am.'' The urge to look down was strong and his head inched in that direction as his eyes remained fixed. ''It was foolish of me to call you that. It escaped my mouth without considering who you were.''A rogue squirrel darted among the provisions that lay next to one of the tents. ''But I wasn't all foolish there, I also asked for stories of old. You have seen all that has happened to Xavax and I would hear it from someone who's actually been there rather than read about it. Letters don't hold the same power as spoken words I feel.'' He allowed his eyes to look away.

''She's on her way you know.'' The youth looked at elder. ''Selenia has send Hogni on ahead and she follows in his wake.'' He searched the wrinkled face for reaction.


Renodin

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Re: The Tales of Nemean JeVondair Renodin
« Reply #16: June 05, 2019, 09:38:04 PM »

Roleplay from Mara Aurelius


Margarita and the dragons had been back to camp for a while now after the destruction of the Aix fortifications. New orders were to loot and destroy food, something Mara is uninterested in. Other troops can do that and even find joy in it. The Aurelius Dragons are a resource to be used for something more. The troops wait patiently for orders worth following and kept the peasant resistance in check, all except for one.

"I'm bored. Killing peasants is too easy." Margarita was lazing around in her queen's tent. Unique was one of many words to describe her. As some already knows, her intellect is above average but her mind had a sinister edge to it. Mara gets few visitors not because she is unlikable but in most cases must speak to Margarita first. It isn't uncommon that commoners and lesser nobles alike will get their fingers crushed, stabbed in the palm or foot, or hair set on fire just because Margarita didn't like the smell of them or the way they looked. Most notable nobles don't have to worry about such things but know enough to be wary.

She had already cleaned and maintained Mara's equipment, something she's done countless times. Even she still isn't tired of her father's hard work put into the weapons. All of which were similar in design, a gold dragon at the handle and hilt breathing the fire that was etched across the length of the blade, but each a tool for different circumstance. It was her duty to keep track of all her queens weapons on the battlefield. Ever since Mara's first battle against Perdan in her second war, the routine was the same should her queen be bothered enough to fight in the fray.

Mara kept her throwing daggers concealed under her cloak or strapped to the front of her leather armor. Twin blades rested crossed on her back used in close quarters. Finally, a crescent blade for mounted combat which Margarita carries until Mara calls for it. Margarita also carries her queen's short bow which isn't anything too special. The only weapon that she could call her own was a finely crafted long sword. The only thing her father gave her besides life. It was nice but wasn't elaborate. She doesn't need any other weapons because she is free to use Mara's weapons at her discretion and is proficient enough to wield them. She excels at protecting her queen's weapons in battle should they get misplaced. It became an obsession that she must feed the dragon with the blood of her queen's enemies when they are in her hands. Aren't dragons always thirsty for blood?

"A letter came in. Read it to me." Mara spoke of the letter from the young knight Nemean JeVondair Renodin.

Margarita read the letter aloud and gave a sigh of disappointment at the end.

Mara spoke.

"I know what you are thinking. He didn't give me a reason to kill him."

"Can't you kill him anyway?"

"No."

"Aww. I'm so bored. When will something exciting happen?" Margarita was now whining annoyingly.

"Maybe soon. I haven't made up my mind yet."

Margarita's interest peaked.

"Oooh, a secret! Pray tell please!"

Mara could tell Margarita anything. Being sworn to keep all private discussions confidential is quite unnecessary, she doesn't have any friends even among the troops. After the incident where she seduced a soldier and decided to scalp him while in the act, people go out of their way to avoid her as much as possible. That, and she's a pathological liar to practically everyone. Mara proceeded to explain to her what was on her mind.


Renodin

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Re: The Tales of Nemean JeVondair Renodin
« Reply #17: June 05, 2019, 09:38:36 PM »

Roleplay from Guldor D'Espana



Guldor lifted an eyebrow again. Not the response he was expecting to get, that for sure. He was expecting Nemean to either double down or suffer great embarrassment as he was forced to withdraw his words in fear for punishment, but the young man had done neither of those. He could see regret in his eyes, yes, but no fear, only respect and a desire to prove he was up to the high standards set for him throughout his entire life by both tutors and Selenia alike.

His eyes softened a little and he relaxed his pressure on Nemean somewhat, unexpectedly pleased by his answer. Memories of his own youth years came to him, of the many stupidities he had said and done in pursuit of the same that Nemean was seeking now. Honor. Glory. Fame.

A name for himself.

Guldor nodded slightly before answering.

"Yes, it was foolish of  you, but I would be the fool here if I did not let it go with your recent change of attitude. You are very young, and still learning. Do you want stories of old, Sir Nemean? I will make you earn them. Ride with me to the battle at the earliest chance we have and, if you make it through, I will honor you with a story. Do it again, and you shall receive a second one, and the same goes for the third. Prove to me that you live up to your family name, and together with my respect you will earn the right of asking me for tales of old."

At the mention of Selenia, he nodded again.

"Have you ever seen her charge into battle, Duke Blint at her right and Arbiter ka Habb at her left? Of course you have not. She is a magnificent sight to behold, Sir Nemean, and you shall soon find yourself understanding why we the Xavax would follow her to the gates of Hell at back at her mere command. About Hogni, I know much less, I must confess. I rarely partake in the court environment."

Renodin

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Re: The Tales of Nemean JeVondair Renodin
« Reply #18: June 05, 2019, 09:39:14 PM »


The Long Wait
 

Quote
"Yes, it was foolish of  you, but I would be the fool here if I did not let it go with your recent change of attitude. You are very young, and still learning. Do you want stories of old, Sir Nemean? I will make you earn them. Ride with me to the battle at the earliest chance we have and, if you make it through, I will honor you with a story. Do it again, and you shall receive a second one, and the same goes for the third. Prove to me that you live up to your family name, and together with my respect you will earn the right of asking me for tales of old."



And with that, the young man nodded solemnly. The task ahead was set. Blood would be the price for experience. As it so often was. With the Talon ordering the army from one front-line to the next, seemingly in circles aiming to avoid any battle, Nemean wondered how it would took before he heard his first story from the fabled old man.

While his spurs were yet to be replaced with gold and his belt was likewise unadorned, these things would change as the blades of the enemies would carve a new man out of the soft wood he was now.

Renodin

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Re: The Tales of Nemean JeVondair Renodin
« Reply #19: June 05, 2019, 09:40:29 PM »

Roleplay from Selenia JeVondair



Sounds of peasants being repressed followed Hogni from Dimwood's "battlefield."

Hogni was in a sour mood, and he had done all he could not to direct any of that at the youthful Sir Daeron. When Selenia had attached him to Vurkow Guards, he'd only meant to stay for as long as it took to find his brother before returning to the side of the Phoenix Queen, who had gone on to hunt the Perdanite stragglers near the Caligan border. As he'd told Daeron, Selenia was aging, and he did not like to leave her alone without himself or Nemean. Alas, orders are orders.

For the third time that hour, he cursed the day that had been wasted in cleaning up a small group of ornery peasants who themselves appeared to have scantly two brain cells to rub together.

As he wandered about the camps, searching for one banner among many, his eyes alit on the seahorse banner of Epponlyn. His new home. He'd never expressed his thoughts on it, but he understood why his mother disliked it so. It didn't exactly inspire courage, nor speak at all to the warrior spirit. Indeed, most people he asked didn't even know its history, making instead some vague references to land and see they'd heard secondhand from others who themselves had little idea. That seemed sad to him, dying for a flag that held so little of the public's imagination. Yes, he could see why his mother wanted it changed to the Redwing. Even to him, it had everything the seahorse lacked...then again, it also represented nothing of the Eponnlyn from before, so he could understand if his new countrymen were less than thrilled. But then again...

His thoughts went on for some time in this way and Hogni was grateful that matters of crowns, flags, and politics were not his responsibility. Today, his only responsibility was finding his brother. It was another unique moment in his life, for they'd both been Selenia's squires for so long that looking for Nemean instead seemed a wholly different sort of exercise. The Xerarch had always been easy to find...just head for the thickest of whaterver happened to be going on at the moment and there she'd be. Nemean was not the same, and for a variety of reasons hogni simply did not expect to find him in the center of the xavax warhost. And so he wandered, walking beside his horse, an even-tempered roan gelding, as he sought his brother out.

Renodin

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Re: The Tales of Nemean JeVondair Renodin
« Reply #20: June 05, 2019, 09:41:26 PM »

Roleplay from Daeron Vurkow



Seeing Hogni wandering to and throw between the different camps had began to make Daeron nervous. Him being his responsibility and making sure that he finds his brother gave the gaze of Selenia an omnipresent manifestation, for he knew everything will be told to her by Hogni if he made any misstep.

So to calm this anxiety he went looking for The Capitan to find and bring Neman back to the Vurkow camp. When he found The Capitan eyeing two groups either side of a trench, two members in particular. One was a rather stocky bald man nursing a broken nose, the other was a man with a black eye who was diverting his attention between playing with a deck of cards and the other group.

"Capitan! I need you to find a Sir Neman Jevondair, should have a gold lion on a black shield. When you do bring him back here it is an important matter for the realm." As he was giving this order The Capitan was still watching the two groups before slowly turning his head towards Daeron. His distinct peppiness was unusually absent from his voice in his response.

"Aye Sir. Any request for what I should say when I find him?" Daeron was already walking away to plan the troops march; shouting over his shoulder.

"Just say I sent you on Hogni's behalf, bring him back kicking and screaming if you have to!"

As Daeron passed from view The Capitan hesitantly moved away from the gathering before turning towards the mass of tents for the rest of the army.


Renodin

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Re: The Tales of Nemean JeVondair Renodin
« Reply #21: June 05, 2019, 09:41:48 PM »


A Peppy Captain
 

Quote
"Aye Sir. Any request for what I should say when I find him?" Daeron was already walking away to plan the troops march; shouting over his shoulder.

"Just say I sent you on Hogni's behalf, bring him back kicking and screaming if you have to!"
~Daeron Vurkow


Woodsmoke rose from beneath the pots of tar and lard. The war camp was in full swing as the Talon had given out his orders for the day. Everyone was to set out and face the enemy. However, ''not just yet'' was a proverbial addition to those orders and as such, everyone seemed to spend time making last minute adjustments to their gear. Most prominent and also noticeable to anyone with even half a nose, were the rows of strategically positioned tar refining workshops. The men that worked there were burly, soot stained and covered their face as best they could. Often with a length of cloth or some other rag, tied behind their head.

Their labor was in high demand. Not because there were ships to waterproof but for an entirely different reason. The birch bark they were using as their main ingredient was worked and worked until all that remained was a fine yet very dark substance. Some of the batches would be darker than the feathers on a raven while the more premium batches bore a fine amber tint. Every soldier hated rain and it was this product that ensured that their gear remained repellent to the stuff. The added benefit was of course the ease with which they could mend  small gashes or otherwise damages to their leather-wares. Ranging from armor to just about anything if the need was pressing enough. And it certainly was that after weeks in the field and after several sieges. Not to mention the near oily substance that could be used to prevent rust. The burly men made a killing well before there ever was a battle.

Having realized the very same issue as every other warrior, Nemean was negotiating the price for two pots of medium quality tar. The wind coughing puffs of smoke occasionally from the fire into his face and his nose continuously assaulted by the ever pervasive stench of the entire tar operation. ''What?!'' The young Noble's eyes popped open wide. ''20 Silver pieces a pot?! Are you mad!'' Nemean licked his lips and instantly regretted it as the scent previously borne on the wind was now transferred into his mouth.

''Well, supply's low.. Demand's high..'' The bare-chested, chubby man offered as he pulled his stained white scarf down his chin. His eyes full of sympathy but his lips moved with naked joy. ''So, what will it be Lordling?'' A sweaty and pork fingered hand rubbed the stubble on the chubby man's face. A throng of seasoned warriors milled about, most of which had the presence of mind to pretend not to notice the exchange but they all watched it like Magpies spotting stray silverware.

It was at this time that one man emerged from the throng. Moving quite succinctly like he didn't want to be noticed yet neither wanted to take away from his outward confidence. As Nemean readied his response to the Tar peddling, fatslob of a man, for he has gained such status in the young noble's mind, the approaching man spoke. ''Sir Nemean? Of House Jevondair, Former Ward of the Xerarch Selenia, Knight of Oligarch?'' Each title a hammer-blow to the common born soldiers. Each mention forcing them to slink away a little more. Oblivious to the effect, Nemean turned around. ''Yes, I am he. Who sent you?''

''I am the Captain to Sir Daeron of House Vurkov.'' Not waiting for the youthful Noble to respond he pressed on. ''Hogni awaits your presence, for some time now.'' As if to add further weight to the statement the Captain slightly raised his chin. In the background the fatslob had retreated back to his workshop. At the mention of his brother Nemean feel a new sense of urgency. He glanced to where the fatslob had been but discovered the man gone. A deep furrow marred his featured for a moment. ''Very well, lead the way Captain.''

And so the captain led the young man to his master's camp. Seemingly out of the blue however a question came ''Where did Sir Daeron hire you? I've found captains to be quite elusive.'' At which the captain offered nothing but a smirk and a select choice of words. ''We are a rare breed indeed young master.''


Renodin

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Re: The Tales of Nemean JeVondair Renodin
« Reply #22: June 05, 2019, 09:42:18 PM »


Roleplay from Guldor D'Espana


Guldor observed the solemn nod from the much younger man, and wondered what was he thinking when confronted with the perspective to fight in order to earn his reward. Such was the way of the Xavax, it had always been, it would always be. Nothing is gifted to the warrior elite of the East Continent. everything must be gained through dedicated service and, usually, oceans of sweat, tears and blood.

Still, the matter seemed settled, and Nemean had passed his first test, the first of the countless ones awaiting for him in his near future. His family name foretold the early days of a legend in the making, with the potential to change the entire course of politics and warfare on a continental scale. If Nemean would rise to that bar, it still remained to be seen. Most likely not, of course, but he would keep an eye on the lad regardless. He had promised him tales, after all, and a young enthusiastic high noble sounded like a more interesting audience than a bunch of commoner soldiers, let alone a faceless mass of minor nobility and wealthy traders.

Guldor looked around the campsite, obviously rushedly organized by a very inexperienced batch of fresh recruits. The thought of helping Nemean to organize it died before even being born, and he simply surveilled the area with a slightly displeased look on his face. He then looked at Nemean again, and with a simple gesture of the head signalled the camp around them.

"It would seem I have caught you busy unpacking, Sir Nemean. A pleasure to make your acquaintance, and I look forward to seeing your first battle. Come to me once you have earned your first tale. I will make sure to deliver then."


Renodin

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Re: The Tales of Nemean JeVondair Renodin
« Reply #23: June 05, 2019, 09:42:54 PM »


Roleplay from Andross Blint


Andross and his captain had been moving through the tents and shops of merchants when he heard the exchange between the tar merchant and Nemean. He picked up an apple and leaned against a tent pole a good distance away and watched with curiosity as the merchant blundered his way through the exchange, and Nemean did a rather decent job of not stabbing the man in the throat.

At the challenge of calling Nemean a "lordling" Friedrich, Andross's captain stepped forward. Ever the one to demand respect be shown where it was due, he was ready to charge the merchant. Andross grabbed his captain's arm and muttered "Let it play.."

Friedrich stepped back, but Andross could feel him seething. After Nemean left with a captain, Andross entered the man's shop. Friedrich stood outside, to ensure the conversation would not be interrupted.

The merchant turned as Andross entered and bowed his head, "Greetings, mi' lord, how may I be of service?" Andross looked around the shop before stepping forward, towards the man and saying "You know who I am?" The man nodded and said "Aye, you're the Duke of Blades." Andross nodded and said "Your last customer, you know him?" The merchant started getting a bit nervous and shook his head "Not at first, mi'lord, but after hearing his name I know of his family." Andross stepped closer, he was nearly nose to nose with the merchant and said "The boy's mother was very dear to me, that makes the boy dear to me. Disrespect him again, and I promise you, you'll learn why I hold the throne of Blades." The man began sputtering a bit "of...Of...C...c...c....course.. my'l.. mi'lord."

Andross slapped gold on the counter and said "Tend to his unit and mine." The merchant bowed his head and said "At once mi'lord." Andross left the shop and disappeared among the throng of people.


Renodin

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Re: The Tales of Nemean JeVondair Renodin
« Reply #24: June 08, 2019, 09:23:59 AM »

The following bit of information is purely OOC even for IC purposes. That's because I asked the player who helped created Ayden (Nemean's biological mother who dead when the boy was young, damn peasants) what Nemean might recall of his mother. Here's his reply. Which was much appreciated.



Out-of-Character from Godric Tórrarin ka Habb


Ayden was intense. She was not affectionate, instead possessive. She saw her family murdered and her father became an undead: she had to be saved from being killed by him. Her mother figure was Selenia and theoretically father figure was Godric. She did not know parental love with them, rather admiration.

She was a mother only for the very early years of Nemean's life, even less than the short time with her biological family (I think she was 10-12 when they were killed?). I don't think she softened or truly learned what it was to be a mother. If he has memories they would be scant and fragmented. Perhaps a song or a memory of some rare kindness. Maybe her absence and distance, as enthralled as she was with her goals of service or revenge.

Ayden was considered a full-blooded Toren and was taught the ways by Godric, I think if she intended Nemean to be Toren she would have had Godric teach him but that is no longer a possibility. Godric considered Asher to have fallen to one of the grave sins of Torenism and never attained its teachings.

I think, especially compared to an aged and motherly Selenia, Ayden was lackluster. The lack of consistent memories definitely allows Nemean to paint a self-serving image of his mother, perhaps to emulate Selenia or supercede Selenia.

Just my unorganized thoughts. I hope they're helpful.


Renodin

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Re: The Tales of Nemean JeVondair Renodin
« Reply #25: June 10, 2019, 03:50:59 PM »
A little Rp to fill the intermezzo I felt was sneaking in.


Seasonal Fair

Walking among the battle worn rock that is the fortress hold of Westmoor, a young man with eyes resembling the deepest of shades of eau de Nil strolls about as the great walls envelop him in shadow.  Locals from all around the small city were piling into the place. Nemean couldn't help himself gawking. Westmoor certainly wasn't Oligarch but these people. They packed themselves into ever nook and cranny. Peddling their wares and clogging up the already cramped, winding roads.

Apparently there was a fair of sorts. Making sure he didn't bump into anyone the young noble darted between the stalls both permanent and makeshift. Fleece everywhere. Seasonal goods and a ton of vegetables. It must've been a good harvest. He thought to himself.

So Nemean took in the sights of Westmoor. A lonesome, tiny city on the great plains now called Greater Eponllyn.

 

Renodin

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Re: The Tales of Nemean JeVondair Renodin
« Reply #26: June 10, 2019, 04:07:28 PM »



Roleplay from Guldor D'Espana



Guldor sat down for a little while in the middle of his supervision of the preparations for the march of his Black Whistlers, which he intended to take to Troyes to follow his Talon's example. In his hand was a letter from the young knight Nemean, which he had been looking at and rereading every once in a while for the past day.
 

Quote
Letter from Nemean JeVondair Renodin
 
Message sent to all nobles of Eponllyn (28 recipients) - 1 day, 6 hours, 25 minutes ago

Venerable Guldor,

Old men take interest in that which they have lost but wish.

He wouldn't be the first to look at me and dream of days long gone. When they could still run and jump and swing a sword for hours without tiring. I also very much doubt any woman would still give him a pleasing look.

Don't worry about me, I know how to take care of myself.

Wings unfurled,

 

Sir Nemean JeVondair Renodin
Knight of Oligarch


The letter didn't mention him specifically, but he felt its sting nonetheless. Did he dream of days long gone when looking at the young knight himself? Did he take interest in that which he had lost but wished?

He knew the answer to that question perfectly well, and it was not one he liked remembering. Putting the letter back in an inside pouch under his robes, he stood up and aggressively hoarded his men to Troyes.

Because, in the middle of the road back to the frontlines, it was easy to distract oneself from the painful truth.


Renodin

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Re: The Tales of Nemean JeVondair Renodin
« Reply #27: June 11, 2019, 08:12:48 PM »
Below is not a Role play but rather a letter from another player. Why did I save it? Because it is a very subtle yet sublime reference to an RP we wrote together. If you look back at the RP exchanges between Godric and Nemean you might catch it. I'll not spoil it yet.



Report from Godric Tórrarin ka Habb


Quote
Sir JeVondair,

The proper court of the Xerarch are the special positions of governance as well as any advisors duly appointed. We will be alongside the Xerarch and the high peerage will assemble duly before us. There is no custom as to the organization of the high peerage, although orders have existed and been used as informal houses: the Old Guard and the Order of the Black Swan come to mind. The court of the Xerarch and the court of the High Peerage together is referred to as the Phoenix Court.

Nobility and merit are the determiners of status among the Xavax. You are a high peer of the realm but have not the merit to afford greater status: worry less about where you stand or how you appear and instead endeavour to be useful.

You may have noticed some of the younger nobles are prone to fits of emotion and irrationality. Avoiding this at least publicly will be a boon to your career.

Hail,

Godric Tórrarin ka Habb
Chief of Justice of Eponllyn
Knight of Oligarch



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Re: The Tales of Nemean JeVondair Renodin
« Reply #28: June 11, 2019, 08:34:59 PM »
Below a small RP meant to illustrate a reaction.


Words from Sel

Awaiting near the Temple of the Triumverate in Bescanon, the young Noble was surprised by an unexpected letter. It was from Selenia. The Sun had beaten the earth below like the armies of the North had the South. Relentless and without pause. As its glare lessened so Nemean hastily broke the seal that kept the words upon the parchment hidden.

Word from Sel always made him happy. Wind gently nudged the branches overhead. Making lush green leafs dance a slow rhythm. A visage marked by the hallmarks of health and unblemished by the passing of time took on an uncharacteristic mask, if indeed it was pretend. Long became the furrow upon his forehead. The brows above each eye turned down towards the nose. His gaze grew hard.

The words having past from parchment to his mind, his head dipped and he exhaled heavily. There was no joy in his demeanor as Nemean tucked the letter away. A single hand he placed upon the bark of the tree that had been proving him with shade. That too, he wouldn't long need anymore.


Renodin

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Re: The Tales of Nemean JeVondair Renodin
« Reply #29: June 14, 2019, 07:26:47 PM »

Info post

Following I'll be recording a slew of RP's. They are mainly not my own but written by a cast of Battlemaster players. I am exceptionally grateful for them for their contributions to the event I will try to capture as best I can here on this thread. The Third Phoenix Court.

It is an event that is held among the Redwing, a culture group created by the Players originally from the Realm of Greater Xavax. During this Phoenix court matters of great import are discussed and decided upon. I, will be writing Nemean's take and role in it, as the story and events unfold. I don't know what will happen or how it will go. All I know is that it will be memorable. Collaborative writing usually is.

I'll label the RP's with:    -PHOENIX COURT 3-

Again, all due credit to those incredible players who wrote the pieces.