Dubhaine Family/Ciarghuala/Roleplays/1018/June
1st June
Spring Evening -- Poryatu
Tyra Andrasta Bluelake
As the drunkard tried to swing at her, Tyra simply laughed and stepped away. After three or four tries, the man fell face down on the ground. Still laughing, and looking at Duncan's horrified expression, Tyra called her captain.
"Otwin, get this man something to do in our unit, he's useless now but maybe can do some laundry, I don't know. Be creative."
Otwin nodded, smirked and took the drunkard away. In a few minutes he'd be seen in his underwear, sleeping in the middle of a 10-men tent, being told an interesting story of how his night turned out and how he'd have to pay for it. Tyra guessed in two days he'd have run away. If he stayed, he'd be perfect for them.
Shaking herself, the knight took Duncan's arm and said, happily: "Let's go, my friend, I think I can face a bunch of Bluelakes now, without trying to fight anyone. Thank you for bringing me that oaf."
The man was still looking sour. She smiled her sweetest smile, not lacking a little mischief. "I know, he treated you so badly. But you picked him. Isn't all well that ends well?"
"Yes, milady..." He sighed "But spitting on my shoe, wasn't that too much?"
"Well, took some guts." she shrugged "Come on, I'm here and in a good mood."
They were standing before the Bluelake manor. It wasn't too large, neither too new. It had that indistinct quality of a house that is cared for, but also slightly disarranged from being actually lived in. A few plants climbed the walls, and in places you could see they had been ripped by little climbing hands and feet. That made Tyra feel happy. Children being children.
Duncan went up to the fence to make the announcement of her arrival.
Tyra arrived to Poryatu with sunrise, and immediately proceeded to... nowhere. She let her men play a few rounds of Skat while she paced back and forth, eyeing the town, then the beautiful hilly fields right next to it. She knew exactly where the Bluelake manor was, but she had suddenly lost all will to go there. What would she say?
Duncan observed his dame and waited. He knew she'd make the right decision because she had promised him. But he had to give her time. In the meanwhile, he wrote a few notes on the journal he kept about her advances.
Tyra paced and paced and got more and more worked up. She couldn't just go in and yell at them, but it was all she wanted to do. She didn't have it in her to arrive with a gift of flowers and offer friendship to the family of that woman. No. Never!
"Duncan!!! I need to blow some steam! Get me a man to fight me, will you?"
Roleplay from Gerald
By the time Duncan got his things together and sent into town to find an unfortunate soul most capable fighters moved on to their errands... the only half capable person left was a brooding drunk mercenary who caught a girl over his knee and was sneaking his hand under her skirt.
"This one will do" said Duncan pointing to the drunk.
Duncan arrived back to camp nearly dragging the mercenary along. He was just happy this time his dame seemed to really want to fight and not do what she referred to as "sparring" or "training", which she usually did with her soldiers anyway. Yet, despite having heard this was one of the best wandering fighters in the region, Duncan was a bit unsure about his condition. He couldn't hide the despise under his usual dignified expression.
Her scribe's face looked so disgusted when he arrived dragging the man, that Tyra snapped out of rage and started laughing.
"What on earth did you find me, Duncan!? Was this the best you could get?! Can he stand straight at least?"
Roleplay from Gerald
The drunken mercenary reeked of booze and garlic so bad that you could smell his presence twenty feet away. But at the insult he got his strength together and strengthened up. This fellow here said he will pay me a week worth of inn stay if I give your lady ass a whooping! He pointed the finger at Duncan whose terrified expression could not be hidden.
"Thats not true my lady! It is not what I said. I told him I will give him a weeks worth of stay if he spars with you. Nothing beyond that!"
The mercenary smiled widely, proudly showing off a few missing teeth through which he landed a nice spit on Duncan's shoe who stepped back in disgust
Roleplay from Tyra Andrasta Bluelake (18 hours, 9 minutes ago)
He really did it! Duncan's expression was priceless. He was usually so unphased! Tyra laughed so hard she was almost out of air. She gave Duncan an apologetic glance but walked over to the man with a broad smile.
"Let me see that ass whooping, man!" she gave him a hearty slap on his back, and he promptly lost his balance. She laughed again. "Well, I don't think there will be ass kicking today. You seem quite useless right now. Come and give me a try."
As the drunkard tried to swing at her, Tyra simply laughed and stepped away. After three or four tries, the man fell face down on the ground. Still laughing, and looking at Duncan's horrified expression, Tyra called her captain.
"Otwin, get this man something to do in our unit, he's useless now but maybe can do some laundry, I don't know. Be creative."
Otwin nodded, smirked and took the drunkard away. In a few minutes he'd be seen in his underwear, sleeping in the middle of a 10-men tent, being told an interesting story of how his night turned out and how he'd have to pay for it. Tyra guessed in two days he'd have run away. If he stayed, he'd be perfect for them.
Shaking herself, the knight took Duncan's arm and said, happily: "Let's go, my friend, I think I can face a bunch of Bluelakes now, without trying to fight anyone. Thank you for bringing me that oaf."
The man was still looking sour. She smiled her sweetest smile, not lacking a little mischief. "I know, he treated you so badly. But you picked him. Isn't all well that ends well?"
"Yes, milady..." He sighed "But spitting on my shoe, wasn't that too much?"
"Well, took some guts." she shrugged "Come on, I'm here and in a good mood."
They were standing before the Bluelake manor. It wasn't too large, neither too new. It had that indistinct quality of a house that is cared for, but also slightly disarranged from being actually lived in. A few plants climbed the walls, and in places you could see they had been ripped by little climbing hands and feet. That made Tyra feel happy. Children being children.
Duncan went up to the fence to make the announcement of her arrival.
2nd June
Spring Evening -- Poryatu
Tyra Andrasta Bluelake
First contact
They were standing before the Bluelake manor. It wasn't too large, nor too new. It had that indistinct quality of a house that is cared for, but also slightly disarranged from being actually lived in. A few plants climbed the walls, and in places you could see they had been ripped by little climbing hands and feet. That made Tyra smile. Children being children.
The house was traditionally built, with wings on each side, several rooms. Only one of them looked closed off, but in general it seemed like a lot of people lived there. Facing east there was a glassed section with a winter garden and living space. A fire could be seen from the outside, shimmering through the glass. The dame felt some of the old anger flicker, but remembered the drunkard and kept her peace.
Duncan went up to the stone fence to make the announcement of her arrival. Through the gate, he caught the eye of a serving girl and told her Dame Tyra Andrasta Bluelake was there to see the Head of the House.
They were soon taken into the winter garden. Tyra took place near the plants and waited for Zhou Tai. He never came. Instead, she was greeted by an older lady, blonde, with smart eyes and an easy smile: "Welcome, Tyra. I heard a bit about you, but wasn't expecting a visit..." she looked at the knight with an appraising glance "You are not what I had expected... but it fits you so well, Tyra Thunderborn."
Tyra squinted. Her pale eyes almost bore holes on that woman, trying to perceive the least bit of malice.
"It wasn't a loving epithet, milady...? It just meant I caused great noise and destruction wherever I hit."
"I'm Alice. From the royal line." Seeing Tyra's face was still questioning, she continued "I forget you know nothing of us. Aunt Vanya did a terrible job. I can fill you in on the family heritage later... Just know I'm Alice, and happy to meet you..."
"Where's Zhou Tai? I had business with him."
"Not here, I'm afraid. Overseeing recruits."
Tyra grunted. "I'm leaving, then. He's the one I must talk to."
Alice seemed dismayed. She was a strong middle aged woman, not a whiff of fragility to her, and a hearty voice. "Oh, no! Please don't! It's not always we have a lost family member come back to us, please stay and tell me about you?"
The Andrasta swayed. She almost sat down to tell this woman her story, about the bullying, her come backs, her friends and adventures, how she had learned of true evil in people, and of abandonment... Then she hardened. "I won't stay a minute in here if not to speak to Zhou Tai and ask him to stay out of my business."
The older woman looked sad. "It's your right, my dear. But if write to you, will you answer me?"
The dame considered it, then looked at Duncan. "Write to him. He'll tell me the important bits." after a pause "Thank you, you were nothing like what I was expecting."
Alice just smiled. Such a warm smile Tyra felt her eyes welling up. Her own mom hadn't given her such a smile since... Since Outer Tilog. Cursed Vanya Bluelake. Shaking her head with anger and disgust, Tyra turned and left. She was almost at the gate when she was chased and stopped by a young boy, not even 10 years old. star [reply to sender] | [reply to list] | [ignore] | [userdetails] [character details] | [give medal: Trust medal Roleplaying medal Fun medal] | [vulgarity]
Solomon Greybrook
The Journey Home
Crossing the pastureland outside Askileon, Solomon looked to his left to see Hadroria chatting to a soldier of the guard. However, beyond this face, the Guard were not as friendly. The long campaigns north have meant the inability for messengers to provide the money Solomon needed to pay his men. Without question, Solomon knew it affected the men more and more each day. Going over the brow of the hill, Solomon looked back to see his men. They were not usually men of resentment. However, they really did need this rest in Giask and need to be paid. To Solomon, he really just desired to go home for at least a day and look over the Grand Harbor from his chair.
The journey home took longer than he would of liked.
Perhaps, a good night's sleep for a change.
Emyhr le Craint
Arrival in Giask:
Stepping off the boat into the docks of Giask, Emyhr let out a sign of relief. His men were tired after spending the past couple of days traveling across the majority of the north of Luria. He turned and addressed his men, handed out the pay that was owed to them all and gave them permission to relax and rest for a couple of days. During which, Emyhr knew he had no time to relax and headed straight for the recruitment centre to bolster his forces once again. Followed by the blacksmith to pay for the repairing of the equipment.
As the men dispersed into the city, Captain Gustaf walked back over to Emyhr who was now sat at a table of a nearby tavern unraveling and examining different scrolls and pieces of parchment.
"Hows the situation looking? This is an expensive trip it seems." The captain called over a local barmaid to bring over to mugs of ale to the table.
Emyhr looked up briefly as the captain sat down but immediately turned back to the numbers on the scrolls. Took a big swig of the drinks that the barmaid brought over.
"Its a good thing the taxes should be coming in soon, that will relieve the burden. However, we should be find to accrue the necessary repairs and recruit a few more men. Will have to be careful with the funds until the next tax collection though."
Emyhr took another big swig from the mug finishing off the last of the Ale. Gustaf noticing the stress on Emyhrs face, he handed his drink over and called the barmaid over again for another round.
"Well since we have arrive here before the majority of the others, why not give yourself some time to relax. Lets celebrate our previous ventures with another round of drinks".
The barmaid returns with two more mugs of ale, captain Gustaf hands her a couple of silvers as thanks and proceeds to give Emyhr one of the mugs.
"Its time to celebrate, let us drink for a little while before we move on to the next task"
3rd June
Spring Day -- Poryatu
Tyra Andrasta Bluelake
Drake Bluelake
A young voice yelled at her to wait. Tyra almost ignored it, but it was a child's voice. Remembering the climbing marks outside the house, she waited for the boy to catch up. He had dark hair, deep blue eyes, and fine features that reminded her of Alice. She wondered for the slightest moment if her own features were any similar. He also came with a smile, and a young lordling's clothes with the blue and silver colors of the house, and golden trim. There was a rip on his tunic that gave her pause.
"Dame Tyra!" he panted a bit "Aunt Alice forgot to give you this..." he thrust a leather pouch into her hands. "And this!" his other hand offered her a slice of cake.
Tyra was so surprised by the cake, she took the pouch without noticing. "Cake?"
Duncan by her side gave the boy an approving nod. The 8 year old puffed up. "Sharing food or drink will make you my guest, and under my protection."
The Dame laughed, taking the boy by surprise. She quickly recovered, though, and asked seriously, while taking the cake. "And under whose protection am I placing myself?"
"Drake Cedric Tinsley Bluelake, son of Gavin Drake Tinsley Bluelake, son of Queen Ilya Bluelake and King Willem Tinsley of Falasan, royal Bluelake line, Heir of the House."
Tyra fought an urge to spit the cake she had already bit. He was so eanerstly serious, she just nodded. "Thank you, young lord. I don't think I'll need your protection fighting monsters, though."
His eyes shone "You fight monsters a lot?" "Yes, mostly that's what we do." "Can I come with?" "What?! No!" Drake looked disappointed for a moment, before producing a smile and making her a courtsy. "Then we must part, gracious knight. That our meeting today is the auspicious beginning of something good."
With a smirk, Tyra bowed her head slightly and left, ever with the feeling that this visit didn't quite go the way she had wanted it to.
4th June
Spring Day -- Poryatu
Sevastian Schwarzherzig
Mattan Dews
A great bonfire spit sparks into the night, and the ale was plenty. Luria had returned to Mattan Dews, and the celebration was in full effect. Sevastian had ordered the men of Ultima Ratio Regum to leave their arms and armor behind at the camp with a pair of guards, men who had earned punishment, and join the festivities. Drums pounded and the men had mostly paired off with some of the local ladies. Sevastian, a few drinks in, jumped up on a bench and began to sing. His men cheered, for their commander had a fine singing voice. A jaunty tune picked up, and Sevastian's captain, the son of an Asylonian refugee, began to play his pipes.
"Axes flash, broadsword swing, Shining armor's piercing ring Horses run with a polished shield, Fight those bastards till they yield Midnight mare and blood red roan, Fight to keep this land your own Sound the horn and call the cry, How many of them can we make die! Follow orders as you're told, Make their yellow blood run cold Fight until you die or drop, A force like ours is hard to stop Close your mind to stress and pain, Fight till you're no longer sane Let not a one damn cur pass by, How many of them can we make die!
Time and again we'll give them war, Right until the islanders are no more, Trample their feeble walls to dust, Submission to the Hegemony is a must, The Maddening is shining bright, And our lust drives us onto the fight, Drive your bloody blade home and cry, How many of them can we make die! How many of them can we make die!"
Sevastian echoed the refrain, his men joining in, and as the song died, Sevastian stepped off the bench, in search of another drink.
6th June
Spring Evening -- Poryatu
Sharn 'The One Armed'
Sharn awoke startled. She sat upright and studied the room.
A single lonesome candle flickered gently in the far corner, illuminating the space with its dim hue. Nothing seemed amiss.
Nobody here. That voice... I must have been dreaming...
She considered for a moment whilst calming from her jerk awakening. The voice, so femenine and gentle touched her.
It had a message... Be it true nor either, I must inform the Rangers regardless!
Lonnel
A long time since I was so far south of Dwilight. My usual territories are much further north. Whenever I come here I feel like I'm going down in the good sense of the word... that I reach the roots of everything... it's like a feeling of renewal.
I will have to free myself of some weight that I bring with me... and I believe that in here it is a good place to do it.
7th June
Summer Day -- Poryatu
Matthew Coffey
"Sir Myr!"
The stout young man cantered up to the scene of the melee. A quick affair, one that was not made much easier by the 'efforts' provided by the Black Arrows of King Matthew, save riling up the beasts before they crashed into the lines of Lurian infantry. "I see you have begun your gruesome work, might I suggest perfume or a bouquet next time you wish to provide a dame a present?" His grin failed to subside as another head was torn from its carcass, one would be hard pressed to tell if he was making fun of Myr or of Tyra from his words. As he dismounted, with seemingly practiced ease despite his size, the young King gave Sir Myr a brief look over, before casting his gaze over toward wherever Dame Tyra took the field. Despite his own status, he was merely dressed in a clean white gambeson, with his family crest only visible on his signet ring, no crown or regalia heralded him. A measure of confidence that the beasts would not reach his own lines, perhaps. "I'd offer you both wine in my camp, to relieve the aches, but orders are orders and Marshal Bennet requires your presence soon. I trust we might share a cup another day, in better climes."
Tyra Andrasta Bluelake
"M'Lord, it unbefits a noble" - said Waldred overseeing one of the Redmanes sawing on the neck of one of the monsters.
"Would you rather have me deny a Lady? No, Waldred, however gruesome the Lady's wishes may be I would not be worth being called a knight if I failed to accommodate them." - Myr answered his captain.
The sawing continued.
"Sir Myr!"
The stout young man cantered up to the scene of the melee. A quick affair, one that was not made much easier by the 'efforts' provided by the Black Arrows of King Matthew, save riling up the beasts before they crashed into the lines of Lurian infantry. "I see you have begun your gruesome work, might I suggest perfume or a bouquet next time you wish to provide a dame a present?" His grin failed to subside as another head was torn from its carcass, one would be hard pressed to tell if he was making fun of Myr or of Tyra from his words. As he dismounted, with seemingly practiced ease despite his size, the young King gave Sir Myr a brief look over, before casting his gaze over toward wherever Dame Tyra took the field. Despite his own status, he was merely dressed in a clean white gambeson, with his family crest only visible on his signet ring, no crown or regalia heralded him. A measure of confidence that the beasts would not reach his own lines, perhaps. "I'd offer you both wine in my camp, to relieve the aches, but orders are orders and Marshal Bennet requires your presence soon. I trust we might share a cup another day, in better climes."
Tyra got there just in time to hear the Moon King's comment about the wine. She was quite smeared with blood and grime, having been the point of her wedge, and seemed to be in really high spirits. Her chainmail was intact, however, and the white rose pin in her hair was surprisingly clean.
"Thank you, your Majesty! Yes, we must be moving soon. It's a long travel to Mattan Dews. But if you'll have some leisure time, I can offer you one of my bottles of Grodnoin wine, first wine I ever actually appreciated!"
Then she saw what Myr's men were doing and chuckled. Why chop the heads when there wouldn't be time to boil them, use them for anything? She bowed deeply to the knight, with such theatrics that anyone could realize the jesting.
"Sir Myr, this damsel is extremely thankful for your valiant rescue. But you do realize that with half your men we killed 4 beasts and your own killed only 6?"
Myr Arnickles Renodin
"Ah, Dame Tyra..." - young knight beheld the lady, with all the blood on her person her image at the moment resembled more a butcher than a courtly damsel, or rather would've if she weren't courtseying in a truly imperial bow. Myr himself bowed in a knightly fashion and replied:
"Dame Tyra, I... you can count on my rescue whenever you need it. Indeed your men seemed more ferocious than mine, then again my current contingent of Redmanes is freshly recruited. Except for the captain and a couple of veterans they are all green like teak sprouts."
He then bowed to King Matthew, saying: "Your Grace, I will most certainly join you for a cup of wine when the time allows. Now however is not such occasion, entire army awaits my presence in Mattan Dews." - he turned again to Dame Tyra - "M'Lady, I need to know if you intend to deploy in front of the rest of the army again or follow Marshal's instructions. I will not order my men to move behind the archer line unless I am certain that all foolish ideas escaped your pretty head. I would count it my personal disgrace if I allowed you to charge the wild hordes by your lonesome."
Summer Evening -- Poryatu
Tyra Andrasta Bluelake
Tyra looked absolutely livid. Foolish ideas from her pretty head! She had already shifted weight to give Myr a well deserved elbow to his chin, when her glance fell on the young King, watching the exchange with a rather humorous countenance. That cleared her head. With a smirk, she replied. "Well, *now* my foolish pretty head is definitely keeping to the same ideas. And *of course* I will need rescuing in the front lines. In fact, we're moving out immediately."
With a nod to King Matthew, she left. Getting to her camp, Tyra instructed her men to misdirect to Matthan Dews. It had been fun to charge ahead with Myr but he shouldn't be getting any ideas that she was a damsel in distress.
Myr Arnickles Renodin
"Very well" - Myr said nodding somberly and proceeded to usher orders to his captain and his men.
When the Redmanes arrived at the battlefield they held like a wall against endless onslaught of rabid beasts. Sacrifice was great and Myr thought so too - "At least it was us that faced such hopeless peril and not..." - he looked around for Dame Tyra and her men but all he could see were some foreign sailor-looking fellows - "... cheeky scapegrace!" - he bellowed and started to laugh heartily.
Kiran Mir-Ashtan
Kiran had been on the march since his first few days in Luria after taking residence in the Estate of Ember Hall in Poryatu. They had successfully brought Cairin Tut back within the Lurian Hegemony and after restocking at Giask had returned to the relative region to begin a re-acquisition of Mattan Dews. Kiran's knowledge of the background of the region was minimal and while it was surely interesting, he had not had sufficient time to do his research into the matter with the constant battling against Monstrous Hordes in the region.
It had been the 2nd day since his arrival in Mattan Dews, returning from Giask with repairs made to his units equipment though he lacked additional troops due to the lack of income and assets at his disposal. Allied scouts had reported that numerous monster herds had formed a horde and were progressing towards the region of Mattan Dews from the Axewilds. Their numbers were high but so were the personnel that Luria had deployed to the region.
Hours before the battle
Some may say that having fears or being worried before battle is the mind of a coward. Kiran at least believed having some worries at least prevented foolish mistakes. His worry however, was the distinct lack of an Infantry mass within their forces, it meant that his retinue and a few fellow lords and their retinues would become the bulwark once the hordes closed in and if the missile forces at their disposal failed to eliminate the enemy they would be on the cutting block to buy time for those forces to whittle the enemy down further.
Kiran spent these hours contemplating and sitting with his retinue. After all the majority were people of service to his house and thus he at least knew them more significantly than their recent additions, he had very little opportunity to interact with his fellow lords due to the current circumstances.
Assisted by a few selected hands, he adorned his armour. Gambeson beneath chest and armpieces of chainmail, Splinted vambraces and grieves and his head coifed with a basinet as his helm. As was expected he carried his shield adorned his family crest, at least the shield was somewhat fine. The armour was rough and scratched it had survived the test of time and experienced patches as his family had built up the equipment slowly over time before it rose in its status recently.
The engagement begins
Kiran as per his orders had set himself and his retinue in the rearguard, they were to march through the ranks of archers as the monsters closed to make a bulwark. Though it seemed a handful of lords had positioned their infantry units upon the front-line.
As the horns of battle begun and the rear seemed secure from the possibility of skirmishing or flanking beasts. Kiran made his orders, placing his hand upon Flavonia's shoulder and requesting her as Captain to signal to the banner man and the retinue to begin marching towards the front. At the sight at least in her reasonable armour for a soldier, Flavonia would at least appear close enough to a adolescent male though obviously her voice would show her gender. At first, Kiran had shown doubts he had preferred not to recruit women to his retinue for worries of the influence on morale and cohesion as well as physical strength. Though he had been convinced to take the woman on as his captain and he still wondered if that was the correct advise to accept.
Kiran could only hope that they would come out intact and alive.
Frontline Clash
Making the frontline, it was immediately obvious that Knight Schwarzherzig and Dame Pavus's units had been decimated by the horde breaking on their forward ranks. Kiran's retinue formed a new frontline as Pavus's retinue was overrun, next would be his retinue as another rain of arrow fire descended upon Monsters shattering and killing more of their number. Kiran's retinue advanced forwards as a small herd enveloped their right flank and a much larger herd barrelled onto their frontline.
Kiran's men took initial casualties even pushing forwards as such and now these large monstrosities bigger than a man and far stronger too outnumbered his infantry. Kiran's initial worry was his retinue and himself becoming encircled by the beasts and diverted those he could make contact with in his immediate surroundings in the chaos of battle aware of his orders to hold a area open if the creatures began to close around their units failing spearline.
It was easy to see after all the creatures filled with wounds and arrows plucking a soldier up within their claws or their maws depending on species and ever ravaging them or throwing them airborne back into the crowd of monsters behind the backline. It was swift and brutal, his retinue's line broken it became each soldier's own fight for survival. Kiran himself was faced with a monster taking his sword in left-hand, he attempted a quick flurry of stabs and slashes against the creature. Though most rather useless causing only minor wounds at most, the creature barrelled down on the Knight with a flurry of its own blows more clawing rends than targeted strikes its sheer strength was more than enough to tear Kiran's shield from his arm, leaving only his sword in hand.
Stumbled from the strikes, Kiran planted his feet and surged his weight behind his blade, it had most certainly dulled and possibly chipped during combat and Kiran had to hope that this at the very least had enough strength within it to cut down a creature baring for his neck as he attempted to use his weight as well as the creatures weight against it. The blade drove deep into the creatures abdomen however when one lacks experience of monster biology a strike not completely true cannot be guaranteed to be lethal. Fire still fired in the creatures eyes as it crashed one of its claws down above his helmet deflecting off and find purchase on his right shoulder the creature easily dislocated it with ease, the weight and force simply enough to knock the knight to his knees. For certainty, the next act of the Knight was an action of sheer survival grabbing a shattered shaft of a spear and attempting to drive it into the creatures face only proceeding to break the shaft further. After all it wasn't his blade that would fell this creature but rather the proficient and well aimed arrows of experienced marksmen and women that fired from the rear-lines.
In the aftermath of the battle, Kiran found his unit scattered the majority of his men immediately dead. As their commander Kiran took the duty of assisting any of his retinue that the healer deemed unrecoverable to swifter demise than the fate that would have awaited them naturally. In total 11 of his retinue had survived with numerous varying injuries most of which had been from his family retinue, It was at least to some relief that his Captain had survived, she wasn't to bad worse for wear.
It would take him hours to find and account for his lost troops through the battlefield. It would mean families left without a bread-earner, Kiran could only hope that the dowry of a dead soldier could at least aid them for a little while at the very least.
Aftermath
Not all of the survivors made it through the night, two succumbed to their injuries leaving only 9 and even Kiran's dislocation while easily fixed his minor concussion was not. They would need to take to the battlefield a short time later as another horde descended on the army, though this time they had the enemy at a significant disadvantage. The monsters cut down like butter through shear numbers was at least a recompense for the loses suffered and all of his retinue made it back alive with only a single injury within their number.
Kiran hoped at the very least his ability with the blade and his respect of command within his retinue had improved but only time would tell. Shattered and tired and without funds to recruit more soldiers. Kiran would have to think of a way forward. Seeing the monsters proficiency within melee began to give Kiran thoughts as he sat within his dug in fortifications, maybe it was worth asking for funds and return to his estate. He could place his current retinue as homeguard militia and seek out his lords permission to build a force to hunt such creatures, they suffered against missile fire but of course archers themselves were weak in the melee. If he was to recruit a force of mixed infantry, he might be able to at least drive more of these creatures into the ground and repay the service of those he had failed to return home.
Only time would tell
Leif Wilkins
Leif lay bare in his tent. The humid summer heat made the air heavy, and a bead of sweat was permanently perched at his brow. He shuffled his body, feeling sticky among two female companions at either side. He stood up, walking towards the table to pour a chalice of wine, casting an odd shadow similar to that of an axe stuck horizontally in a stump.
A pile of letters was pinned by a dagger of lavish design. He wiped the sweat off of his forehead, thinking about the hustle and bustle of the realm. Although highly intrigued and eager to participate, the recent battles and letters from his sick mother have kept him quiet, and unusually quiet.
He poured two more chalices of Fissoan Wine, turned towards the ladies, and approached them with a smile 'In case I don't live tomorrow, please help me create a night worth dying for' he sunk into the pillows.
Isabella Pavus
Isabella led among the pile of bodies on the battlefield, surrounded by those wearing the Pavus colours. Each of those had a mortal wound, though the sword that struck her missed any major organs and was a clean puncture. Blood loss would just as easily kill her if aid was not to arrive swiftly. Her eyes took to the sky to the swooning vultures, waiting for their feast. They were brave to swoon above a battlefield of man and monster, and Isabella admired that. There was something poetic what these final moments. Watching the predators fester above, she utters a final prayer to the ancestors, before closing her eyes.
Then, she awakens. Days have passed, men have been buried, and many letters penned. She was still not truly recovered, though the healers had truly done a miracle. Yet, more monsters were coming. Despite her near death experience and unexpected second chance, she had to be ready again. Her unit had been massacred throughout the invasions. Now just twenty two men soldiers remained active, in addition to one injured and her captain, Alaric.
She would be sure to make the best out of this second chance. For Luria.
8th June
Summer Day -- Poryatu
Myr Arnickles Renodin
Myr ran as fast as he could and still by the time he reached the frontlines the arms were raised and mouths open - shouting cheerful shouts of victory. Among bloodied warriors were the ones with the golden eagle on their banners.
"Waldred, come here." - Myr beckoned his captain to his side - "Was a knight of Ordo Leonis just out-valoured by a lady?"
Waldred cleared his throat taken aback but chose against diplomatic appraoch, knowing his Lord would appreciate honesty more - "Yes, m'Lord, I believe you were."
Staedtler la Stylo
The footfall of a dozen soldiers ran wet and sodden through the rain-driven walkways of the lower courtyard. Staedtler was leading them down to the main gate as his militia captain strode adjacent, holding his earl’s umbrella above, daintily clutched in his bristled and muscular sword arm. It was a summer rain, light and constant, coldly bleeding through armours of the bowmen atop the walls of the second circle. Needles of sunlight leaked through the clouds and against the mist in the air. It was a still, windless morning, and war was raging below.
A hoarse shout of ‘release’ echoed overhead, and a volley of arrows was loosened westward at a near vertical angle to the moat.
Staedtler swiped a handkerchief from the lapels of his coat and dabbed at the inside of his cheek before putting it away again. It was blood-flecked, and stitched with his initials. The report of the encroaching horde had arrived upon Staedtler’s desk somewhat too sudden this morning in the form of a breathless scout and a fleet-footed botanist. A meeting of coincidence. One was on duty, and the other doing research for the University when they first saw the same thing and began to run. And, with time being in short supply, Staedtler proceeded to wolf down his breakfast, apparently alongside half of his own mouth in the process.
“If I know the man at all, then Titos is at the gate already. He’s probably killed a dozen of the things with the weight of his shadow alone, already,” Staedtler mumbled to his entourage as he began massaging the blister in his mouth with a finger. They reached the steps descending onto the lowest circle of the castle. Staedtler scanned the headline of the gathered formations for sight of the towering behemoth-for-hire, but to no avail. “And Donald is somewhere on the walls, I’d wager.” He blindly waved to the west and turned around to the captain with a smile. He exchanged the umbrella in the captain’s hand for a bloodied handkerchief, somewhat still dripping. He span the thing above his head in a lazy motion as he lorded over the chaotic mess erupting at the foot of his estate, rocking back and forth on his heels.
The oaken gates were roaring with battle; screams; strikes; the barking yelps of a horde yet to break the perimeter, clawing their way across the moat and into the palisades. The gates still held in their frames, so there was little to worry over. Their foundations were shaken, and the woodwork splintering, but the soldiers remained atop the walls in strong formation.
Only occasionally would one disappear from the ranks, plucked from his line by unseen hands and dragged over into the abyss beyond.
“And, I swear," Staedtler shouted, raising his voice over the cries below, "upon the blood in my mouth, that if one of those military peacocks takes claim for my very successful defence of my lands … well ...”
Staedtler stopped.
9th June
Summer Day -- Poryatu
Solomon Greybrook
Shades of Grey
As Solomon rode down the narrow path the Greybrook Guard had scouted out previously, he looked to Captain Hadroria. The man was older than him by some years and had seen more horrors than Solomon twice over. However, the last few seasons they have got closer. Solomon learnt about the Captain's family, his childhood and the internal conflicts that plague him. As the sun was setting, Solomon knew it was one of those moments: 'Captain!' Solomon shouted to his compatriot, 'Can I have a word?'
As soon as the request was heard, the Captain immediately came to him: 'Sir. How can I help you?' There was a bitterness that came through his words that was awfully hidden.
'Captain,' Solomon lowered his voice slightly: 'Hang back slightly. I need to have a conversation with you.'
The Guard marched on ahead without hesitation which allowed a small gap to emerge so that the two men could converse without issue.
'Captain, tell me, what plagues your mind?' Solomon cautiously suggested.
'If I can speak freely, it is not your doing that this mood has took hold of me. It is fairly complicated.' Hadroria was uneasy and fumbled with his words as he continued: 'I have seen hordes break down houses and slaughter populations sire. I have fought the undead and monstrous by your side and alone on multiple occasions. However, I have honestly never killed a man whom did not deserve to die.'
'What is it that you are trying to say Captain?' Solomon grew far more uneasy than he let on. This was very unusual.
'I have found there is always conflict in the world. However, I have always seen it as those who seek conflict or to pacify it. With this in mind, I have slowly begun to realise that there is a shade of grey between the two. I just do not know whether some of my beliefs are justified just in the name of glory anymore.'
Solomon paused for a second and then responded: 'There is a shade of grey in all that one does. If you look to serving your realm, there is a clear example. One must be prepared to put their realm above their own personal views. However, one must also have a state of mind that allows one to suggest what is best for the realm objectively.'
The Captain seemed to contemplate this for a a significant amount of time. The sun had almost set when he finally replied.
'Promise me that you will do what is best for both the realm and the men that you lead. If you can operate in that shade of grey, my own conflicts will be put at ease.'
Solomon instantly responded: 'Of course Captain. Now, please prepare the troops. There are undead that need to be returned to their natural state of affairs.'
With that, the Captain rode off and readied his men for the coming battle.
However, the Captain did not know the greater turbulence that plagued Solomon's heart.
'Shades of grey are all that some men have.' Solomon muttered to himself as the sun set over the land around him.
Two militia men were hoisting eachother up the staircase, leaning onto eachother’s good leg with clutched arms as they climbed. Crimson was wet upon their brow, helmets torn from their heads, with tears running clean through the dirt on their cheeks. They bowed their heads in respect, managing yet to smile before their earl as they passed toward the barracks. Staedtler stood silent as he watched them hobble away. He turned back to the captain, who was glaring down upon the handkerchief in his palm like it was threatening to plough his sister.
“I'm going to find Earl Donald,” Staedtler said closely. “We will join him on the walls. Go to your men, captain.” With a spit of blood to his feet, Steadtler took to the raised walkways as the captain departed down the steps with a salute.
Summer Evening -- Poryatu
Myr Arnickles Renodin
"M'Lord, there's quite an uproar regarding your recent outburst." - plate-clad captain informed his lord.
Myr nodded not moving his head from behind his hand:
"I am... aware. Do me a favour Waldred. The next time I dictate a letter repeat the word Imperial each time I say it. It will take some getting used to this particular marshal being Imperial Marshal."
Myr squeezed his fingers on the vellum so hard it seemed it would almost turn back into calfskin. He expelled all servants from the room, Waldred included. First came the rage, then realization, newfound respect and rage again. Finally he settled for cold acceptance.
He wielded a quill as he would a sword, yet not one you raise for pending battle, but one you hold hilt-up in admission of defeat. The sharp scratching sounds callously pierced the tender skin of silence as he penned the words.
Tyra Andrasta Bluelake
In Ciarin Tut
Tyra read the most recent discussion within the army and paced back and forth in her damned tent. It was in the usual disarray, her fur bed to one side with clothes thrown around, a table Duncan insisted she used to the other, the rack where she usually hung monster skulls to dry, now collecting just the sets of fangs from the latest battles. All the movement prevented her from taking anything bigger. The letters were wrinkled from her emotion upon reading them. She wondered, had the Emperor seen it? Taken notice of what she had wanted to surface? That is - if he even remembered what she was doing. She sat down to write, with conflicted feelings.
Emperor,
Most times, no report can be better than a man's own actions. I feel inclined to keep to my original suggestion in the army.
At your service, Tyra Andrasta
Never the wax took so long to dry. Never her soldier took so long to get dressed and ready to leave. He ran to the Emperor's retinue and delivered the message.
11th June
Summer Evening -- Poryatu
Emyhr le Craint
The long journey had come to an end as the sight of bloodmoon manor caught Emyhr's sight. A sigh of relief came over all of the vanguard as they got to the boundaries of the estate. A moment of cheering came over the group as the idea of traveling more was not favorable for them all. Emyhr turned to the group:
"We have arrived back, give yourself time to rest and enjoy the peace time. I will be issuing orders at a later time but for now you have all earned some rest. I shall call for you later once my chefs have prepared a feast for us all."
The group dispersed. Some returned to their homes to see their families. Others made their way to the barracks constructed on site. Emyhr, along with Captain Gustaf, headed towards the main entrance of the manor. Before they could even open the door, a dog came racing around the corner followed by a small child. This was the daughter of Emyhr's cousin, someone who had not visited Emyhr since she was young. The dog however recognized Emyhr immediately and began leaping at the Armour clad figure. The young girl stood staring at Emyhr, caught in a moment of confusion, then a recognizable voice came from around the corner:
"Maribella, dont just run off, its not safe for a young girl by herself."
Round the corner came a tall woman, adorned with a finely crafted dress and jewelry, crested with the familiar silver hair of the Le Craint family. The difference was the dress was made more for practicality than style. She stood for a second, looking at Emyhr with a moment of confusion. Before immediately going into an embrace.
"Ah Emyhr, I was beginning to wonder when you would return home. Since our arrival a couple of weeks back we have only had the company of your steward Alfred. Come here Maribella, this is your uncle Emyhr that I told you about." The girl still hesitated but gave a slight bow before rushing off around the corner once again. "You know how young girls are, always shy, especially of those who have grown so much. Come, let us sit and talk, it has been a long time".
They all stepped inside the main doors of the estate, the familiar sight of the dimly lit corridor and smell of freshly baked sweets filled the air. They came to the hall where Emyhr had first announced himself as knight of the region, however the hall was now clean and repaired with new tables and seats set out. A shining new chandelier hung in the centre of the room adorned with countless candles.
"I am glad I invited you to stay here, the place is looking a lot better than I left it. I see you taste for the finer things hasnt changed." A cheeky smile came across Emyhrs face as he sat down at one of the tables. Looking across to Captain Gustaf who was in a state of confusion similarly to Maribella just a moment ago. "Pardon my ignorance, this is Captain Gustaf, the brave man who has been assisting me in leading fathers treasured Vanguard. Captain, this is my cousin, Mariana Le Craint. I invited her before we headed east many weeks ago to stay within my estate."
Mariana procceeded to bow and the Captain began to blush before sitting down at the table.
"Emyhr has told me a lot about you, however I would be interested to learn more during your stay here. For now, let us relax, I imagine your journey here has been a long one and rest would be most desired. Come this evening, once the feast has been prepared, we can talk more about the past."
At which point, a maid comes over bringing three glasses of wine. One which was specifically fancy adorned by streaks of gold and silver, was taken by Mariana. The three remained there for quite some time, talking of the recent travels. After a while Maribella return to the hall with a small teddy bear and the dog in tow. The four of them sat around the table for most of the day, catching up and relaxing before they have to move on to other tasks. Before long, maids came through preparing tables and lighting fires as the sun went down but none of them noticed this. It had been a long time since they had return to Emyhr estate.
13th June
Summer Day — Poryatu
Tohrm Elrath
Tohrm had finished his journey to his home kingdom. Riding through the main gates of Poryatown with his army in tow, he realised this was yet another time it had been over a year since he had been in his own lands. The wars had taken their toll, and anyone who had come to know the knight would notice his normally ponderous and considerate features had been soured by a more stern and dour look about them. He ordered his captain to barrack the men under his command and have them engage in regular training. War was always looming around the corner these days, and he was certain that if it came, he would be ready.
After which, Tohrm searched for the nearest retainer of his direct liege, King Coffey, and had them send word to the king that he had arrived. He meant to speak with him regarding the state of the realm. As the retainer scurried off toward the estate of the king, Tohrm was left with his own thoughts as he took in all the sights of the great port city. Despite the invasion, Earth Hall had remained fairly unafflicted by the ravages of the Beast, so its people were more or less contentedly going about their daily business. It pleased him to note this but his mind was plagued with much darker thoughts of the days that had been most recently.
The realm was in disarray, that much was clear to him. Silence had fallen amongst the nobility. He had not received a response from any of the kings regarding the financial state of the realm, and the Emperor's usually transparent messages with the rest of the rulers of Dwilight had ceased. It boded ill, so much so that it made Tohrm uneasy. What were the other realms planning for Luria... perhaps what was more worrisome, is that he wondered what the Emperor himself had planned for them.
The drought which had been afflicting Earth Hall had somewhat subsided, though the people seemed to care little for its effects regardless. He knew Lady Dubhaine had handled the situation well. As she always did he remarked to himself. It was in that moment, Tohrm understood that Earth Hall had begun to surround itself with competence. If that was the right way of thinking about it. It was a good sign. Perhaps the king had greater plans for Earth Hall. Perhaps... no, those could wait until after his council.
Once Tohrm's summons reached him, he would ride with purpose up to White Hall and endeavour to converse with the king.
Matthew Coffey
Standing atop one of the marble balconies of White Hall, the young King mulled over the many events that had transpired in Luria these past few weeks. Wars with beasts, financial troubles, droughts and now possible conflict with their neighbours. The woes of the world drew ever closer to Luria, and to the Kingdom of Earth Hall. As someone whom grew up here, far away from the capital and the centers of Lurian rulership, Matthew could not help but feel afraid of what might happen to his country, and to his people. The afternoon sea breeze betrayed a sense of tranquility, in a time of dark thoughts and even darker actions.
His break was interrupted by a herald, bringing news that sir Tohrm had arrived. Apparently he awaited the summons to the castle. Matthew dismissed the messenger, giving no such orders. Instead, he returned to his room and adorned himself appropriately to traverse the city streets. Shoes of blue, coupled with a long and dark green tunic that came over the knees. A sword kept in a ceremonially decorated sheath hung by his side, as a servant attempted to fasten a short fitted cloak that draped from shoulder to torso across the rotund mans body. Matthew batted the man away, giving no explanation as to why he refused the formal attire. Instead, seemingly satisfied with his appearance, he left White Hall, without servants nor guards.
The archers that manned the inner city walls and patrolled its streets were soon able to point the youth toward his older peer. The citizenry who called Poryatown their home no doubt knew their King as he passed by, based on his local heritage. No doubt sir Tohrm was left wondering why his retainer had not returned sooner with news, but no matter. Matthew thought he'd surprise the warrior with a personal visit. A walk about the city would do the conversation good, so it did not dwell on dour topics for too long.
Arriving wherever sir Tohrm currently awaited, the young man entered the scene with a spritely vigrour, hailing him. "It is good to see fellow sons of the Empire this day, come, let us not sit in White Hall. It is being prepared still, how about we walk the city? We have much to talk about, of that I am sure."
Summer Evening -- Poryatu
Emyhr le Craint
Rise of a Hero
As the battle raged on, the relentless attacks from monsters became overbearing on the forces. The Vanguard held their own as undead after undead clashed with against their shields, paying off as the pile of undead corpses grew with each push by the monster forces. A loud shriek was heard all across the battlefield and the attacks stopped followed by the forces retreating. Loud cheers came from the forces defending against the monsters at the sight of them retreating.
However, celebrations were cut short as Emyhr’s scout approached with a troubled look upon his face.
“Sir, there is trouble. The path the monsters are taking lead to a populated village, I worry they are going there to feed and recover.”
Upon hearing this, Emyhr’s face dropped. He rallied the gathered Vanguard as they celebrated and called upon them all.
“Men, the time for celebration is yet to come. I know you are tired after the battle but the monsters are fleeing towards a village. The threat and damage that could occur to those living there causes great pain to me. I shall not force you to join me, however, I cannot stand by while others may lose their lives. Those who feel the same desire, we must make haste to save the innocents.”
A resounding cheer of support came from the Vanguard immediately followed by a pounding of boots and clinking of plate mail against softened mud as the Vanguard gave chase to the fleeing monsters towards the location of the village.
As the Vanguard arrived at the village, the smell of smoke filled the air as the sight of flames bursting from the roofs of houses. A panic came about the village with men, women and children were fleeing the incoming monsters. Emyhr’s attention was caught by a young woman running through the street with a small child in her arms followed by the sound of a monster behind bursting through a door. The women were running with haste; however, the monster was faster, in a moment of panic the young women fell to the ground tripping on a burning plank from a nearby building. Her face filled with panic and fear as the monster approached, she cradled the baby in her arms protecting the child with all her body. The shadow of the terrifying monster hung over the woman, a cold sweat broke out as she shook was terror, praying for the safety of her child, she prepared for death. However, instead of pain she felt nothing, as she looked up to see a knight clad in armour in-between her and the monster. She could not see his face, only seeing the glimmer of a golden lion crest which she recognised as the crest of Ordo Leonis.
Emyhr, now face to face with the monster, gritted his teeth and pushed the monster back away from the woman. With his might, placing his leg behind the monsters, he pushed against the strength of the monster forcing the beast to the floor. Without hesitation, he thrust his greatsword through the chest of the monster holding it until the beast remained motionless of the floor.
Emyhr stood up, took out a handkerchief from inside his armour and wiped away the blood on his face and armour. He turned around to the women, who’s face was petrified with fear, holding out a hand to assist her in standing. She reluctantly took his hand and attempted to stand, however fear still remained in her legs stopping her from standing. Emyhr, seeing this, placed his shoulder under her arm, bracing the child she was carrying and helped her to her feet.
“How are you feeling, come let us get you inside and safe. I shall have my men prepare a tent to look after the villagers however, we need to make sure you and your child are okay.” Emyhr said, smiling gently attempting to reassure her.
“There is no safety now, the monsters have come..” Her sentence cut short as she looked around, seeing the village now clear of monsters, a line of men in full armour moving buckets of water from the nearby well towards the houses that had caught fire. “What happened, but a moment ago, we were being attacked.” Her legs, still shaking but Emyhr bore her weight as he led her to the house that she had come from.
“We were lucky enough to arrive” Emyhr spoke with care in his voice, “We have cleared out the beast in the village, however we were not fast enough to save everyone.” His voice now solemn, regretting how he could not have gotten to the village fast enough.
Reaching the house, Emyhr carried the women to a chair, clearing space inorder to make sure she was not hurt. However, the woman placed her hand on Emyhr’s cheek, speaking in a calming tone.
“You have saved us; my child and I would not be her would it not be for you brave Sir Knight.”
Emyhr, hearing her say this, smiled at the woman. “I am sorry for not introducing myself earlier. I am Sir Emyhr of Poryatu. I am glad that I was able to reach you in time, how fares your child and yourself?”
Hearing this, she immediately began to stand in order to bow. “I am so sorry for not recognising your magnificence good sir, forgiving my prudence in touching you so freely.”
Emyhr stopped her from standing and got her to sit back into the chair. “Now is not the time for formalities, I came to help so let me help.” He noticed a deep cut across her shins and called for a healing. “We must take care of your wounds, we can deal with the formalities later.” He tore a trip of cloth from his undershirt and proceeded to wrap it gently around the wound, pouring alcohol on top to clean it.
She sat silent, allowing the young noble to wrap her leg. The child in her arms began to cry, the woman began to rock the child back and forwards calming the crying of the child. “My name is Johanna and this young one is called Ottie. While it may seem like it, he is not my child, we are siblings. We recently lost our parents and have been forced to survive by ourselves, it has been tough but I would never abandon my brother.” She begins to clutch the child tighter as a tear began to roll down her face. Emhyr, seeing this, brings out a clean handkerchief from inside his armour and wipes away the tear from her face.
“Now is not the time for tears, it is sad to hear you have suffered so much, I am sure times will get better from here. I will be staying here for a little while to oversee the safety of your village. I will be around to check on you and your child, but I would hope that could join me for dinner tonight, allow me to treat you and your brother, I can see you have not eaten well recently so allow me to ease your burden.”
Once again, her eyes begin to fill with tears, but she was also smiling upon hearing his request. “Sir Emyhr, I do not know what to say, you have honoured me so much already, I could not burden you anymore.”
Emyhr, turned back to face her, one again wiping away the tears. “This would not be a burden, I will arrange for a feast for the entire village, I however would like you to join me at my table with my captain. I wish to know more about life in your village and maybe recount tales of faraway lands with you. And should the other villagers be willing, I would be interested to talk with everyone, make sure that they are all safe.”
She looked at the scarred face of the man before her, the tears had now stopped but her smiling had not. “It would be a great honour and would be more that willing to accept the invitation, however I am sure whatever I shall say would pale in comparison to what you have experienced.”
The child once again began to cry, but this time Emyhr reached out to rub his cheek. At which point, the child stopped crying and wrapped his small hand around one of the fingers that brushed against his face. The child returned to a calm sleep but held on to the finger with all his might, smiling in his sleep.
The woman now looked up at the young knight with admiration. “This child was younger when our parents passed, he has yet to experience any form of paternal love. I am sorry if this bothers you, but I imagine the child is enjoying being around such a caring person.”
Emyhr, taken aback slightly by the comment, smiled brightly. “I am glad, no child should face such hardships at such a young age. The same goes for you, Johanna, but let us forget about that and enjoy the cheerful atmosphere tonight”.
As night descended on the village, the fires had all but gone out with a little bit of smoke remaining. A single large fire in the centre of town remained alight throughout the night, this however was bonfire. The smell of cooking meat and the bustle of cheerful chatter filled the air. Local songs were sung as the villagers celebrate their survival and remembered those that were lost. However most were infatuated by the tales of their saviour, Sir Emyhr, who had brought the meat and ale for them all to enjoy. The festivities continued into the night, the vanguard mixing with the locals, with everyone enjoying the atmosphere of peace. Johanna could be seen sat closely to Emyhr, intently listening to the young knight speaking. The small child sleeping peacefully in the lap of the young knight, small hand still wrapped around the same finger as before.
Tohrm Elrath
Tohrm, having left his possessions in the hands of his band of squires, along with his horse, had made his way by foot through the streets of Poryatown. As King Coffey came into sight, he greeted him with a cursory bow.
"My liege, it is good to be in the home provinces again. I see the realm has been faring well enough in my absence. With the invasion in the south dealt with, it has been markedly pleasant to return to greener pastures. Despite the drought that is..." Tohrm's words drifted off as he surveyed the city around him. He bid Matthew take lead on their walk through the city and as he did, Tohrm would speak somewhat plainly.
"It has come to my attention that your summons bear with them a sense of urgency. Of course, it is not that the realm isn't already under some degree of urgency given the circumstances that have befallen us, but I should like to know more of the matters at hand. What say you of our most recent correspondences and those of the other nobility? It seems desires are split in some regards, between our continued aggressive expansion and that of internal solidarity. I do not presume to know where you stand on the matter but I feel I could hazard a good guess. Perhaps this council you speak of will illuminate this further?"
After allowing Matthew to enlighten him on current affairs, Tohrm would finish by detailing his journey and the retinue he had gathered for the days ahead. "Almost one hundred strong have rallied to my banner. I should be able to fund them for a short while but... As I'm sure you know, funds are scarce, and the debts I've incurred to the realm are by no means small. I hope to remedy this once peace has been achieved. Until then however, I stand ready. Have the rest of the nobility of the land gathered yet? I would deign to speak with all in haste, as it is unlikely that time is a luxury we have."
Staedtler la Stylo
"You know," Staedtler said, leering out of the carriage window, resting onto his forearms. "It's rather comforting to be back in potato country." Steadtler looked above the crowds and colourful store fronts to the east, deeper into Poryatown, watching the gulls flock and swim about the bleach-white towers. "I already feel more awake. More aware of things. Oh, I could not be happier right now."
Staedtler leaned deeper into the city street air, scanning up and down the stoneway roads worming on ahead and trailing off behind with a cheering smile. Beside him, seated in the shadow of a shuttered window, was his captain, Jacinta. She was nestled up against the headrest in an attempt to make up for lost sleep on the lonely, midnight roads by the coastline. With her Lord's personal affects locked up upon her lap, she made sure to keep one eye open, just a slight, until they arrived at the King's doorstep. Just for security's sake. Her attention was swaying between Staedtler and the old jewelry box, painted black and latched with silver. The rattle of the carriage wheels against the stonework beneath played an uncomfortable percussion with the metals inside. At least it kept her awake.
Just a couple more miles, she thought to herself. Just a couple more miles, and then there is a bed, and a bath, and no responsibility for a week.
The young driver was leading the retinue of three coaches at an offhand pace down some of his favourite, familiar streets. With the horses set to a steady trot, Staedtler had ample opportunity to eye up the northern handiwork and common efforts on display by the roadside. Soot-dusted ratcatchers with chandelier-stalked display wheels of dead vermin, screwed by the tail above their heads in bouquets of black and brown, bellowed about their prices; fruit stalls and rose merchants whistling at ladyfolk and coaxing local school girls to spare with their coppers for a handful of yellows and oranges; a tri-coloured jester, face struck a sickly white with a pearly smile beneath a mask of porcelain paint, holding a fist of knives between each knuckle. Each he threw underarm, overhead, and between legs toward a blindfolded boy infront of a giant dartboard.
"You see him?" Staedtler pulled away from the window. "Him with the knives, and the blindfolded boy?" Staedtler opened a line of sight for his lazing captain to watch as a swirling dirge was flung with a careless, drunken flurry, thudding into the bulls-eye between the child's knees. The three off-work cobblers who were watching applauded absentmindedly, trying not to drop their bowls of stew. "You ... you don't see that in Sun Hall!" Staedtler laughed to himself, half tempted to applaud himself although he thought better of it. Afterall, the boy hadn't moved yet, and looked awfully propped up in a puppetty fashion of sorts ...
"Entertaining," the captain said through her teeth, hands clasped about the corners of the black box. Her eyes were now fully shut.
"'Entertaining," Staedtler parroted, somewhat dejectedly. He returned to the window with a roll of his eyes. "No. Circus is entertaining - jesters are entertaining. This city ... it's enthralling. It's somewhere that people live. Breathe. Risk their lives for a pittance. This is the Luria I miss." He dotted the window frame with his finger tip, glaring through his brow at the captain. "People putting their blood to the soils for the sake of applause and handfuls of copper. Too many high ideals down south, for my taste. I want to see people scratching and digging for their lives, not praying at altars or taking up arms. This is a breathing city: a weird, homely sort of town. It's good to be back, even if it is just a while."
14th June
Summer Day — Poryatu
Matthew Coffey
"My liege, it is good to be in the home provinces again. I see the realm has been faring well enough in my absence. With the invasion in the south dealt with, it has been markedly pleasant to return to greener pastures. Despite the drought that is..."
"Come now sir Tohrm," Matthew tsked mockingly at the knight, "let us not dwell on such, and enjoy the sights of the city together. Come, walk with me."
The two meandered leisurely through the streets of Poryatown, no doubt at a pace insulting to those that toiled hard for their bread. The young King listened carefully as the knight spoke; choosing the mid summer afternoon to have their walk had the city somewhat quiet, the people enjoying a break from the relenting heat. Despite his pale features, Matthew did not seem to mind it so much.
"Perhaps this council you speak of will illuminate this further?"
"Indeed, a great council, one worthy of our heritage. That is why I have summoned you, among others, from across the Empire to attend. We must be ready, for whatever eventuality our Suzerain brings. This requires forethought and plans ready to be executed at a moments notice." He nodded slowly as he spoke, gesturing about the city as if to accentuate his words. "We are a great people, the first Lurians, and no doubt we retain much of that heritage despite the wars, immigrations and simple years that pass. Despite lacking the wealth of lands of Moon and Sky, here on Earth we must be practical and not squander our resources, or manpower. That is why we must all talk."
He allowed Tohrm to continue thereafter, keeping one eye on the path they walked. Back toward White Hall it seemed, over the many bridges and walkways that spanned the cliffside city. A wonder of architecture, skills of which many had lost to time and stagnation.
"Have the rest of the nobility of the land gathered yet? I would deign to speak with all in haste, as it is unlikely that time is a luxury we have."
"Soon. Very soon. They are still assembling, if they have not already arrived. Come then, let us make way to White Hall, and I will send out the summons to the rest of our nobility. We shall convene to discuss the future of our realm."
As Matthew returned to White Hall, with sir Tohrm in tow, the most notable sight was the crumbling walls of the bailey. Hardly a fortress or citadel in comparison to other places in the Empire, Poryatown had only wooden walls and a simple stone castle at the highest point of the cliffsides. Dilapidated, with many stones taken by the local people to build their own homes, it was hardly a palace like what could be seen at Giask or Askileon. Nevertheless, the young King carried himself across the weathered causeway to the gates of the castle with pride. This was his home, he would see it flourish as the stories of old Luria told.
As they entered the castle itself, the main hall had been cleared out of furnishings and trappings. There in the middle was something of a theatre, with many benches placed in a semi-circular fashion to view an open stage. Clearly it was an improvised job, with the furniture taken from the feasting hall and elsewhere. It had an almost comical look, considering the wealth that the nobility of Luria usually flaunted.
Beckoning a herald to him, the rotund man gave a hasty list of instructions. "Have those invited come to the castle immediately upon their arrival, let there be no tarrying. Stable their beasts and have their regiments barracked in the city, if there is no space then have the guard make some. I do not want them and their soldiery camping outside the walls. Order the servants home once they begin arriving, I want no one left in the castle when the talks begin, save those guards and courtiers I have specified. By tomorrow morning we begin."
Matthew did not need to dismiss the fellow, as they were eager to begin their task. Presumably because of the amount of work that needed doing, as opposed to enthusiasm for it.
"Now, we wait. Please, feel free to seat yourself sir Tohrm, we will be joined shortly I reckon."
