(OOC Check out
http://wiki.battlemaster.org/wiki/Bedwyr_Family/Jenred_Appearance normal wear for what Jenred looks like)
Jenred threw his head back and howled savagely. Oh, if only he had been there...Xarnelf,
finally taken down in the sack of Nahad. And the Aenilians
finally talking about real peace terms. And the day had barely begun!
He was in a flurry. Letters were flying across the continent, fast-paced negotiations with different parties, slipping a note to the Phoenix Court about the changed situation, scanning maps and reviewing old letters, and it was some time before he managed to get ahead of it all. But he was pacing, ignoring the pain in his bad leg, full of nervous energy and tightly wound as could be.
"Is there nothing else I can do? There must be
something that needs my attention?"
Normally, he would move to one of the gatherings in Topenah to restore faith in Arcaea, but he knew he might need to be in the palace for further negotiations and, Amriel willing, treaty signing.
One of the nearby scribes gave a waiting guard a fishy eye, but sighed. It was...Not wise to leave the King without something to occupy him. Not in this mood. Normally he would have handled this himself. Had it been any other day...
"Your Majesty? There is
one matter...An adventurer, Lokenth, is at the gate is seeking an audience. The guards guess noble birth, but he claims no House. I would not have troubled you with the matter, but you
did ask-"
Jenred's eyes gleamed. On any other day he would have waved dismissively, or more likely called for a new scribe who did not waste his time with such matters. On any other day, this Lokenth would have dealt with a minor functionary at best. But on this day...
"Send for him. It is not every day that an adventurer seeks an audience, and I am curious."
A few of the scribes looked at each other. The look quite clearly said
multiple times a day, more like but they kept quiet. When the King decided he needed a new project, in
this mood, he often came up with...Interesting...ideas. Like deciding he needed to train all his scribes how to stab a potential assassin in the jugular. Or, far, far worse, deciding he would bring one or more of his children to learn. Very bright, very active, very loud children. Children who knew enough to cause sheer chaos, and how to judge their father enough to know that in
this mood he would use it as a test of the readiness of his servants rather than chastising them as he might normally.
Jenred resumed his pacing, his hawk-head cane clacking loudly on the stone as he waited...
