Arcaea/Dining Hall Late 08-09/His Highness a-Hunting

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Gerda Analise Mayer Kindon Rebane looked like a dainty, little princess when taken from a distance. Up close the illusion faltered a little, but only because her hands and a few slight lines around her mouth showed her to be past the first bloom of youth. Her hair was a deep, burnished gold and her eyes a warm, moss-green. Her skin was creamy and smooth, the faintest rose in her cheeks, and her lips were ripe and red. She looked like a spun-sugar confection.

Grafan Tildreth Rebane was of medium height with carefully coiffed brown hair and neat, elegant clothes. A weak mouth and signs of dissipation marred his handsome face, and his brown eyes were rimmed in red.

Still, when they stepped off the ship in Lasop, they made a striking couple. Grafan solicitously helping his wife to shore, her smiling her thanks at him. Only Grafan could hear his wife’s low, musical voice—a lady always modulates her tone—as they walked towards the inn where they had been assured that carriages could be hired.

“Grafan, you tumour, you reek of whiskey…and don’t think your pilfering of my funds went unnoticed. I suppose that you gambled them away with your fine sailor friends. You and your low company disgust me,” her voice dripped acid, but the smile on her face never wavered, “You’d better not do anything to embarrass me in front of my future son-in-law.”

“It’ll take as a full day to drive to Remton, milady witch…should I have to sit there…sober…in your oh-so-charming company? I’d rather be locked up with a snake. And I wouldn’t have to seek out funds if you gave me sufficient to entertain myself.”

Gerdan handed a purse to the manservant who trailed in their wake, “Go and arrange the carriage, Drutho, and get the luggae loaded. And be quick about it…I’m getting one of my headaches.”

Lady Edara Kindon Duchess of Nocaneb


"Your Majesty..."

Jenred looked up from his reverie. He had been drifting in thought, considering all the new information...

"I had given orders not to be disturbed, unless...?"

The servant nodded, and Jenred sat bolt-upright, a feral smile twisting his face.

"Excellent...Inform the stables I will be a-hunting tonight, and get my adventuring gear ready, with the long knives in the special sheathes."

Jenred nearly skipped as he strode along the halls. He'd been looking forward to this for...Ages...And he did so need to kill something.

They would be on the road by evening...And he would be waiting.

Tone-deaf or not, Jenred whistled.

Sir Jenred Bedwyr King of Arcaea