Dubhaine Family/Brigdha/Roleplays/1019/August
1st August
Summer Evening -- Westmoor
Andross Blint
Andross wandered through the gardens until he found whom he was looking for. He approached Brigdha Dubhaine slowly and respectfully, bowing his head to her. "Greetings, Ambassador Dubhaine, I am Andross Blint, The Duke of Blades of Greater Eponllyn. The Phoenix Queen welcomes you and has asked me to escort you to her. May I?" He said, offering the elderly woman his arm in aide.
He waited, patiently and politely for the Ambassador to take his arm and allow him to escort her to the fountain where Selenia awaited.
Andross led Brigdha through the gardens towards the fountain where Selenia awaited. At the center of the southern gardens was an old water fountain Selenia had discovered on her first visit to the capital. The fountain itself had a gazeebo built around it so the local nobility might sit in comfort and shade nearby. Upon the fountain itself, Seahorses, the famed hippocampi of old Eponllyn, were carved in frolicking poses throughout. They spouted clear water from mouths and ears, stone hooves competing with for attention with scales and fins forever frozen against time. Servants from the palace paused for a moment or too just to look at it as they went about laying down fruits, drinks, and cold dishes for the repast she'd ordered.
Brigdha Dubhaine
Leopald studied the Gardens intently from his concealed vantage-point high amongst the palace chimney stacks, a wry smile on his face as he watched the pathetic figure of the Ambassador - his grandmother - shuffling slowly on the arm of a nobleman of high status.
The captain flicked through his notebook, a folio of heraldry, maps, notes and sketches of the Eponllyn-Redhaven court, nobles and commons alike. It didn't take him long to settle on a sketch of Andross Blint, Duke of Blades and close confidante of the Phoenix Queen. Not a man to be taken lightly.
These had once been the pleasure gardens of Basilius Decimus: Duke, General, Chancellor, friend. The memory of him lingered in the High Firmament, that chivalrous refrain which set all the hearts of Fontan aflame. Even the heart of her beautiful precious niece Rhidhana. There was a time when she'd hated him for taking her niece from her, but that hadn't been fair. They were heroes and heroes know the risks they take... and here amidst the glow of happier times she could mourn his passing without regret.
But there were other memories. Darker memories. The shades of Theocrat Jor and his victims. Brigdha wondered if Anagridh could sense it too, or if those enigmatic elven eyes were too focused on the here and now to admit the defilement and desecration of her kinsfolk on Jor's bloody altars. Their plaintive screams clawed at the edge of Brigdha's senses and the Balance Walker allowed herself to stagger under the weight of them, leaning heavily on her staff as Andross sought to steady her.
"It's alright my lord," her thin voice rasped as she somehow managed to right herself, the strain visible in her features.
13th August
Summer Evening -- Bescanon
Vander Lankmere
Vander sat upon his horse, looking back at his former home...
Well, I suppose I have to prove the old bastard wrong then...
He looked to the lieutenant of his small group of bowmen, Well, let's head to the capital to see what's what and try to "make something of myself" as father so plainly stated...
