Dubhaine Family/Aibhlidhn/Roleplays/2020/May

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Dubhaine Family
Fame 40
Wealth 19485
Home Region Ashforth
Home World East Continent

1st May

Summer Evening - Lloringel

Ester Ester Cavendish

The buttons of merchant's velvet shirt strained to cover his hairy belly, and his hair was a greasy tangle. But his smile was genuine as he lead her down the narrow passage deep in the castle city.

"The faithful of Sandefur have longed for this day," he beamed. "It is dangerous, what we do, but we are proud to take the risk."

Checking behind him, he cut off down an even small alley that opened suddenly into a courtyard.

"There," he pointed.

A small shrine in the clearing, surrounding by a few dozen smiling citizens.

"You have done well," Ester Ester told them.

"I consecrate this shrine in the name of Daishi, to protect the Faithful against the Daimon Hordes..." she intoned...

6th May

Summer Evening - Tepmona

Brand Player

Brand made sure that the "special" servant would receive his letter, addressed to the Queen; added with a personal message to her.

Dear Servant of the Queen of Agyr,

I have to sail on..

But I will miss you and your ... let's say ... delicious butt.

Anyway, please tell your Queen that my mission had been completed ... well stopped.

Please thank her for her hospitality and trust.

As a return favor I only can tell her ...

The Ring had been vaporized.

My opinion :

1. The Netherworld claimed it back (possible needed it for a portal) 2. A Certain kind of mystical, monastic group (nearby) had been using the Netherworld' s magic in order to do whatever.


Thank you again and who knows.... till we meet again.


greetings,

Brand

8th May

Summer Day - Tepmona

Aibhlidhn Dubhaine

The Queen smiled as she read the letter, Brand's impertinent manner as bold on the page as she remembered from their brief meeting. There were none at her court who'd openly dare to discuss her merits as a woman and Aibhlidhn couldn't help but feel some affection towards the rootless traveller. In the eyes of feudal law he was burdened and disadvantaged yet it seemed to her that his freedom from responsibility was worth as much as all the riches which filled her treasury many times over.

"A pity you're off on your travels Brand, who knows what mischief we might have enjoyed together," she folded the parchment tenderly and locked it in a certain compartment of her campaign chest, alongside other mementoes of the life she might have lived were she not the daughter of a great and noble house, the Queen of the Five Duchies of Ar Agyr.

20th May

Summer Day - Fronepu

Aibhlidhn Dubhaine, Queen of Ar Agyr, Royal of Ar Agyr, Duchess of Havilmark, Countess of Tepmona has announced a Tournament of Joust and Swordfight to be held in Fronepu 9 days from now.

The winner will be rewarded with 500 gold in addition to the honour and prestige that his victory will earn him. There will also be a reward of 200 gold for the runner-up.

All nobles of the continent are welcome on the tournament grounds on the day of this event. Make sure you announce your participation in time.

22nd May

Summer Day - Fronepu

Nerta

The Foederati woman had earned a ride in the rumbling cart after saving the horse from a scyther. Hunched over a spear, her cloak pulled tight, she peers about the strange city of towers. Despite the crumbling remains of the outer walls the place was clean, cleaner than Mhed at least. Thought that was probably in preparation for the tournament.

A chill draws her attention to the looming stronghold, still marred by the wolf's paw after all these years, even as she hisses under her breath, “What now?”

Twisting about to consider the tournament grounds she nods to herself, before eyeing the repurposed militia barracks anew. She was here for a reason after all, and maybe she could get the proper vantage from a high perch… After all, scuttling into that old stronghold should be child's play.

Godfrey Greybrook

Arriving the night before, the Priest arrived in the foreign city to the fanfare of celebration and tourney. With the sea breeze passing through the cobbled streets, Godfrey once again was stunned by the ancient infrastructure that was the Daishi faith across this part of the continent.

Poor souls.

Godfrey would talk to these people and give them a a true calling in their life - Vordulism's goal to save humanity from its struggle. Yet, he was not inclined to do so without permission of the ducal lord.

Instead, he awaited for the letter of the Lord Eriol and quietly enjoyed the festivities.

Eriol Blackdagger

Banners flew high in the breeze the morning the young diplomat came into the city. A city preparing for tournament. He could smell the various meats beginning their roasts, the breads being baked, and all-too familiar animal smell, from his farming youth. Eriol walks down the cobbled main road of the capital of Ar Agyr, that old nation founded again new; much the same way that the Empire did. From the grace of Thalmarkin... before the reign of the Mad King that threw the continent into war. In that, the Empire of Vordul Sanguinis and the new Kingdom of Ar Agyr are kindred spirits. Hopefully, the Count of Vale can use these good intentions as a bridge for his first assignment.

As the delegation still tried to make its way into the city, Eriol took the time to walk around, and see the sights of the capital. “I see why the pottery of this land is so famed” Eriol thought to himself as he stood at an open stand watching a potter’s meticulous etching on his latest creation. His two apprentices stood beside him taking notes.

“Magnificent” he thought to himself.

“Sir?” he heard from behind him. Turning around, Eriol is met by a well-adorned soldier, possibly royal guard. “You are ambassador from Wudenkin, are you not?” the sound echoing from behind a full helm.

“I am. Before I meet with Her Majesty, I wanted to take a look around. I hope I have not caused offense”. Eriol replied.

“Not at all Lord Blackdagger... I do have a question sir.” The soldier then lifted his visor and a weather beaten rough face scarred from battle, rough from the elements, and a slightly greyed beard showing his age and experience met Eriol’s gaze. He leaned in and whispered, “I... is it true that your King is a... Vampire?”

Eriol smirked at the question and pointed east, “I take it the castle is that way?”


Hail Aibhlidhn, Queen of Ar Agyr, Duchess of Havilmark, Countess of Tepmona.

I bring greetings and admiration from my master Emperor Xlair Silverblade, Lord and absolute ruler of Vordul Sanguinis. I am Count Eriol Blackdagger of Vale, his servant, who has been honored to have been chosen to meet with your Royal Majesty. We would be most honored to be received by your court for a more formal introduction of our delegation, and enjoy the beauty of your realm which has benefitted from your wise rule.

May our meeting be blessed,


Eriol Blackdagger

Count of Vale

Aibhlidhn Dubhaine

Greetings Eriol, Count of Vale,

You are welcome at my Court and recognised as the Envoy of Emperor Xlair with all the protections of Law and Custom so accorded. Whilst I have not had the pleasure of meeting your master we have exchanged correspondence on several occasions since the Empire was established in Wudenkin and I am eager to learn more of his realm and people, the better to understand how we may jointly prosper.


Aibhlidhn Dubhaine

Queen of Ar Agyr

Royal of Ar Agyr

Duchess of Havilmark

Countess of Tepmona

Summer Evening - Fronepu

Gustav Kuriga

Gustav arrived at the remnants of the gates to Old Fronepu, struck by the air of half-remembered history evident in the aging ruins. Having the captain of his Legion Archers go on ahead to find housing for the troops and suitable accomodations for one of the Sworn, Gustav stayed behind to study the crumbling walls. He sat on a rock outside the structure, sketching it silently as the moonlight struck the stone, creating an eerie, melancholic scene.

He would start as Captain Godlinda said "Milord, things are prepared for yourself."

"Thank you Captain, you're dismissed until sunrise, see to the troops." With that the soldier would head off as Gustav stood, stretching out his limbs after sitting for some time, before heading to where he would be staying the night.

23rd May

Summer Day - Fronepu

Nerta

Best laid plans...

Swinging around her spear to strike down the last rattler, Nerta sighs and inspects the dusty catacombs in flickering torch light. Did the Valentic Order burrow in every city they entered? First Mhed, then Agyr, and now here…

Turning toward the chill Nerta rolls her eyes, “Finally done? She couldn’t have been that great of a conversationalist. Well I’ve finished up so let’s head back upstairs where I can get some stew.”

Pulling her cloak back around her as she goes, the young Foederati makes her way back above ground toward one of those famed alehouses that everyone was hawking about.

Summer Evening - Fronepu

Nerta

Oh great, it’s a party.

When she sat down to her victory stew, the cozy alehouse had only a few patrons, but that had changed quickly once the Patrician swaggered in.

Slapping down more money than she’d ever seen, this Achille de Medici had called for a round of drinks. That much beer sloshing around drew in quite the crowd of riotous revelers and within minutes a party was well under way.

A party that backed Nerta into a corner..

She’d been jostled by a cutesy couple looking to find a bit of space themselves, and at least one frothy flagon emblazoned with a dragon had been thunked down on her table. At this rate someone was going to ask her to dance or worse!

Puffing aside a stray hair and keeping her travel cloak pulled tight, the woman eyes her possible routes of escape: The front door was swamped with people, both coming and going; but she could head upstairs and maybe slip out of a window or something.

Taking a moment to eye the stuffed shirt, Nerta rises and makes her way for the stairs.

24th May

Summer Day - Fronepu

Nerta

Nerta had to shove her way through the crowd and duck past a couple in the staircase, but she was able to make it to the top floor despite the calls and shouts of Achille for more beer and the roar that followed.

Wonder what he has to prove?

Slipping out with little trouble, the wandering woman makes her way into the city growing ever more festive as the tournament draws near.

26th May

Summer Day - Fronepu

Godfrey Greybrook

One could find a man studying scrolls and other iconography in a shaded corner of the marketplace, occasionally sending ravens across the continent. Some say he is the priest of blood, others say he preaches the saviour of humanity. Yet, no one would truly know unless they asked the prophet of Vordulism, which none of the peasants anyway dared to ask.

Nerta

Message sent to everyone in Fronepu (23 recipients) - 3 hours, 53 minutes ago

Something was strange.

The market platz near Achille's party lacked the usual bustle. Maybe everyone was just in the alehouse but then…. The sudden chill set her hairs on edge, pulling her gaze toward the slender man shaded by the tree in the corner.

He was reading, so he was probably noble born, yet he did not look the part of a warrior especially in those robes. But despite all of that there was something else about him that seemed, familiar. Ignoring the chill, Nerta glances around the square and frowns in realization. The Plebeians were leaving the man well alone just like they did for her. How…. typical.

In a way it is surreal to feel a kinship with a stranger purely on the grounds that they are both excluded. Thoughts of home brought a familiar melody to her fingers as they drum on her spear, Gods she missed them. Stuck here in these alien lands on the outside just like this stranger. She knew nothing of the man really, and yet it looked as though no one else would take the time to learn of him.

Pushing aside the contemplation least the homesickness swells to despair, Nerta wavers. Could she afford a detour? The ache pulls her to at least try but…

Twisting again to glance toward the old stronghold, Nerta’s ears twitch. Something.. a trumpet perhaps? Had her quarry arrived?

Glancing from one to the other she scowls and stalks out of the square. The stranger didn’t look like he was going anywhere and if that was Bob, he probably wasn’t going to sit still for long.

Achille de Medici

It was high time for the drinks to continue pouring.

Godfrey Greybrook

Once a man too mighty to hold his tongue, silence in the mountains taught restraint to the man known as Godfrey, speaking to groups when deemed correct to do so.

As a noble he did not truly know showered drinks for all, Godfrey humbly accepted the gesture and continued observing the crowds with a form of ale.

One stopped to stare, were they noble born? No... probably not as otherwise they would of approached? Yet, peasants and their ilk are needed for the great plan.

A turn of the observer's heel saw Godfrey continue to watch the market as the trumpets played in the distance.

Nerta

So...this was the infamous Bob.

Gripping a windowsill of the old Stronghold in a few places, Nerta peers down from her perch at the unassuming procession. The grey beard riding a black charger was probably the leader of the roving band. Looked pretty comfortable in the saddle and there was a wariness about him that reminded her of a cat. Even relaxed, he seemed ready to ambush something. And play with it. Still he was certainly old though. I mean she’d thought the Old Man was just that, but next to this guy he seemed positively spry.

Shielding her eyes from the glare Nerta traces his path through town. At last Bob was out from his manor with only a token handful of, admittedly sturdy looking, guards. Not people to mess with but she wasn’t getting much of a choice if she wanted any sleep.

Climbing back down she sets her jaw and heads after the man.

Time to get this done.

Yxevarii Auru'in

Silenced by gracefully-donated ale her watchful eyes sweep across the assemblage of banners and oddities. Truly all manner and ilk, attendant nobles provide a bountiful glimpse at Belluaterra's rich cultural tapestry. Sturdy assistants collect last-minute orders for repairs while wenches saunter to and fro with a flowing flagon cupped in each hand. Smiles abound - fueled by the near-endless flood of alcohol - while others ponder in silent isolation.

Alone, Yxevarii watches a fellow watcher and wonders why the relic of a man interests her so. Ever the curious one, she drains the last drops of amber, leaves a gold coin upon the table, and takes her sweet time aimlessly wandering in the general direction of those too otherwise engage to preoccupy themselves with ale-drowned banter.

Summer Evening - Fronepu

Bob Baceolus

Having heard of the tournament Bob and his men enter the city of Fronepu to attend the event as observers and representatives of Ar Agyr and the city of Agyr.

Seeing the festivities brings back memories of days when he was able to enter as a participant, although he'd be unlikely to keep up with all the younger knights these days.

He makes his way into the city to get settled before heading over to check out the grounds to welcome everybody to Ar Agyr, his men eager for a few days off from travelling the wilderness hunting down rogue forces to enjoy the festivities.

27th May

Summer Day - Evora

Nerta

Trailing after the procession as it winds through the city, Nerta attempts more than once to reach the man and his stallion, but every time she has to break off the approach either due to a group or the guards.

Finally there was a window; his tour of the fairgrounds had only a token force and someone needed to fetch things, so when he called for water for his horse Nerta happily obliged.

The sloshing pail was actually fairly large, but she had a solid grip, or three, letting her slide up to the small group at a brisk waddle. Frowning at the final approach the woman wonders how to even begin, it’d been months of work getting to this moment, how to even…

An errant splash of water soaks into her cloak causing her to glance down and curse only to turn into a light chuckle at the irritated reflection staring back up at her. Shifting to nod at the empty air, Nerta makes a quick gesture with her head before finally reaching her goal.

“Pardon me Patrician, I have your water, and a message from an old friend. Strangely they are one and the same, if you would just take a look...”

Mielba Cordenata

“Father! I did it! I have an estate!”

Father sat in his study.

Mielba bounded towards him, holding the deed.

From across the hall she heard her mother’s voice, “Are you certain it is in Ar Agyr this time?”

“Yes! Yes! Come see!”

Mielba placed the document on her father’s desk as mother ushered in to stand besides him.

Father began scrutinizing the paperwork in detail; mother needed only a glance to check the realm and name of the estate.

BEYTZIRA, AR AGYR

“Bay... tzeera?” she asked.

“Y-yes. Chancellor Bob let me name it. He said we could always change it. What do you think?”

Lady Cordenata looked outward with a faraway gaze. Eyes closed she moved her head slowly from side to side.

She looked back at Mielba and deigned a small nod.

Father looked up, “This is a sizeable parcel of land! The Chancellor must have taken a liking to you!”

“I daresay so, though mayhaps this is a token of goodwill in light of the embarrassment?” offered mother cautiously.

“Oh! Um, neither,” replied Mielba bashfully. “Chancellor Bob explained that giving me this estate would bring in more gold for the realm.”

“The Gods have seen to bless you, child,” whispered Father. He carefully made the effort to stand. He was beaming, standing tall and proud, appearing for a moment as he had when she was a child. “Now you are truly a proper noblewoman!”

Mother smiled wanly.

Bob Baceolus

Stopping his horse to go touring the tournament grounds, Bob barely pays the slip of a girl any mind as she staggers over with the pail, and even less when she starts talking but then there comes an eerily familiar voice.....

"It is good to see you again old friend. But I must say, the years have not been kind to you, and coming from me that is saying something."

Bob casts a sideways glance over at the reflection on the water in the pail. It looks oddly familiar... And so he leans in for a good, long, look.

Smiling up from the water is more than Bob's reflection, there is another man with a neatly trimmed beard and somewhat dishevelled hair. His eyes seem to sparkle with violet light so akin to the flame that warmed Bob's city, and when he spoke his voice echoed through the wind.

In response Bob lets out a simple harrumph and retorts, "You'll not fool me with the same old illusions, go entertain someone else for your coin."

The specter chuckles, "Age took your vigor and sense of humour did it? This sour tone is a far cry from the man who catapulted some zombies into Fallan's party just because things were getting dull."

"Oh really, and where have you been? I didn't give you permission to die. That was my job."

The reflection laughs, "No it wasn't, unless you're Morgan in which case I take back what I said, you look great for that old bureaucrat."

A faint smile seems to creep up on Bob, "Well he had the money, I had the army. So really who was going to overthrow you in a bloody revolt?"

"Why neither one of you. Only a fool would want my job, and though you were eccentric, you were never a fool."

Nerta mutters and sags under the weight of the bucket, setting the reflection to waver, "Gods... old men won't shut up..."

Letting out a sigh, or the ethereal equivalent, the reflection slowly returns to focus, "Don't mind the girl, she tries but...." Trailing off he presses on, "Yes Bob, it's me. Turns out when you steal from the Gods they notice, even if they wait a bit to collect their due."

Summer Evening - Fronepu

Gustav Kuriga

The city was in full swing with the tournament atmosphere, even able to reach the palace where Gustav had been assisting Sworn Elios. Taking advantage of a momentary break in the talks, he set out to explore the old city and see what remained of the ancient realm of Fronen.

As he walked through the outer city, Gustav noticed a small shack, clearly rundown and seemingly abandoned for years. What drew his eyes was not the shack itself, but the golden feather above it's entrance, aged but still intact. He sat down for a time, sketching the shack as he had the outer walls for around ten minutes. Finishing the main lines of the drawing, he put the journal away. Carefully he would enter, praying that the whole edifice wouldn't come down on him. Inside, he saw iconography of a dragon, along with that of an eagle, hawk, and crow. The shack seemed to be barren otherwise, with nothing of value or note. As the place seemed nothing more than a curiosity, he began to make his way out when a glint of something shining beneath the rubble brought his attention. Picking it up, he was surprised to find a necklace with two amulets, that of a golden dragon, and that of a golden feather.

Kuriga stared in admiration at the workmanship of the necklace and amulets, before putting them in a pocket. He would have time to study it later, but for now he still had diplomacy to perform. He would much rather be studying the history of this city, but that was fine with him.

Elios Everlight

The burly sandy-haired knight dismounted just outside the tournament ground, admiring the banners and pennants caught high in the coastal breezes of Fronepu. It was comfortably warm here, the air smelled sweet and salted off the eastern sea. Stout was in fine spirits despite the long ride; the chestnut mare tossed her head and gave him a sidelong glance as though to say, "I know there's a stable in there with oats for me, get a move on!"

Elios led Stout through the gate on foot, presented his admission fee for the tournament to a clerk, and then stepped away confidently and looked about for a stablehand.

"You'll be wanting the stable boarding for your mount then, Sir?" came the reedy voice of the clerk just behind him.

Elios reddened, then straightened his shoulders and turned. "Why yes, of course."

The clerk stood by his small podium, and there was a finely-liveried stablehand in attendance. Elios didn't know how he could have missed the girl, and he stared at her for several moments.

"Cinda will be honoured to see your mount and tack well cared for, Sir." the clerk prompted.

"Ah, yes..." the blush of embarrassment was hot under his beard, and Elios handed--nearly threw--the reins to the girl. She caught them deftly and stood at attention, waiting for any instruction. The blonde knight's brows furrowed together at her silent behaviour and his eyes cast about, thinking hard. A tip? He shoved a hand into his pocket and retrieved a silver piece, and flipped it to her as well. The girl caught it without comment and maintained her stance calmly.

"There is no boarding charge nor tip requirement for tournament competitors, Sir," came the reedy voice again, this time with a tone of long trained patience and a hint of patronization. "She waits for the mount's name, and any instruction as to her care."

His mouth felt hot and dry, contrasting the palms sweaty with nerves.

"S-Stout. She eats whatever. Oats." The knight whirled on his heel and began to depart quickly. He'd gone several steps when another thought occurred. He stopped abruptly and called over his shoulder, "Uh, Thanks," then continued away at a brisk walk to find the nearest tavern.

If he hadn't felt the weight of thousands of imagined eyes on him, he would have run.

Nerta

Glaring off to what seemed empty air rather than the reflection Nerta drops the bucket, spilling the water across the parade grounds before biting out, "I tried but; it was pretty heavy."

Turning back to Bob, she ignores the chilly silent retort, "Look I get that you two are having a grand old time catching up but I'm not his Crystal-Maiden-damned chauffeur."

Nerta's voice climbs as she continues, talking over the unseen, "I want him gone, I want my life back and I was told you could help me. So: if you two want to talk, take him; and if it was a lie, tell me so I can get on with it."

28th May

Summer Day - Fronepu

Elios Everlight

Elios sat at the end of the bar, back against the wall, mug of ale in both hands, and watched the busy tavern. It was packed with knights, ambassadors, nobles, and Royals, their retinues and many servants. He was glad he'd bought a round earlier when there were only half as many here, most still out practicing at the grounds.

This is twice as big as any of the feasts we've ever had at home, and there are Royals here! he thought, as he took another long swig of ale. He scanned the room looking for any familiar faces or tabards. There were two he thought he recognized... and then he abruptly wondered if that had been at the other end of his infantry's slings. His eyes widened and he looked into his mug, cheeks puffed out as he let out a slow breath. Hoo boy...

"A round on the house, courtesy of the generous Lady Mielba!" came a loud call from the head barkeep, to a raucous cheer.

His head snapped up to see who this lady was, and he found he could not spot her through the thronging crowd. Royals in taverns, and wealthy Dames buying rounds?

Anyone who looked at the young bearded knight would see a man with eyes unfocused, deep in thought, as though his world had just been turned on its head.

Bob Baceolus

Silence grows after the outburst as he studies the woman with an unreadable expression. Eventually the man lets out a short barking laugh, "All that knowledge and you want to throw it away? Interesting...."

Casually reining in his horse, Bob pats his neck and continues, "Well I can certainly help though my methods are usually quite, abrupt. And Fatal."

"However there might be other options but first... Where did you find the," pausing his lips in a smile, "Old Man anyways?"