Dubhaine Family/Ciarghuala/Roleplays/1019/February
| Dubhaine Family | |
| Fame | 40 |
| Wealth | 19485 |
| Home Region | Ashforth |
| Home World | East Continent |
3rd February
Spring Day -- Shomrak
Kiran Mir-Ashtan
Kiran had grown tired of the current situation, feeling that an rot had started to grow within the chain of command. He was a specialist that had never once received any communication from the higher command had relied on discussion's from those he knew to at least attempt to get a brief understanding of the plan. Of course, Kiran wasn't naive enough to not know that it could possibly inform the enemy of your plan but an incompetent ally was far more dangerous than a competent enemy.
Kiran spoke to his Captain, a man called Gerolf a slightly aged captain that came with experience though he had not had the chance to fight alongside him and his company against humans. He had taken charge of a significant number of siege weapons that in the end were abandoned to allow a quicker retreat from a battlefield that they never even reached. Information pertaining their need to travel did not allow him to get their retinue to the field.
Kiran requested of his Captain, "Take the men, scouts, healers, anyone you believe suitable and gather up some of the local citizenry and some scribes, bribe them with silver and coin if you have to. What I am going to call allowed I want to reach ears and penning a letter isn't enough"
The captain was well aware of Kiran's opinions regarding the lack of leadership present and while even Kiran acknowledged he was no genius, the captain was in no way able to sway the once Mercenary from stating his opinions aloud.
It was some hours later before a crowd had been gathered together, the intention behind this was to firstly with hope draw the attention of some of Sol's nobles and other allied nobles in the region. In addition, he hoped the peasantry would drive their nobles to act as it wasn't nobles that were the most dangerous to each other but their people and if they hated you, then you would burn.
Kiran had adopted to wear his combat regalia, armour quite simple originally a scaled mail which now had been reinforced with plates or bone found suitable from the monsters or men himself and his retinue had defeated in battle. He had decided on this due to his smaller than average shoulder size for a man but also to give the air of a soldier rather than a noble, no helmet was worn which showed the man's blonde hair with shots of red occasionally which was held back in a pony-tail and a moderate beard that was at least somewhat groomed had grown from his face during this very campaign.
Kiran would have no luxury to talk normally here and he had no need to speak with any troublesome etiquette here, he would shout out slowly and calmly to the crowd. He had no wish for his words not to be heard or molded into one another by a crowd that likely wouldn't be silent for a nobles that was unknown to them's speech.
"Freemen, Citizens Of Sol. The Days Draw Longer, The Claws Of The Alliance Creep. If Weinschenk Falls, Your Homes Will Be Next."
"You Must Decide Will You Remain Of Sol Or Will You Become Slaves To Religious Zealots And Skull Collecting Ravens. You Must Force Your Nobles To Act, Even If It Means Their Families Coin, Even If It Means Scars That Destroy Their Comeliness."
"However, I WILL NOT Just Slate Sol. While Us Allies Have Bled In Your Lands. We Have Had Our Own Failures, Particularly Are Own "Grand Commander" A Man That Has No Intention of Interacting With Those He Views Significantly Below His Station. Alongside Our Lack Of Cohesion In Battle"
"We Of The Supposed Blue Blood Could Have Done Better By You, And I Intend Us To Atleast Attempt To Put A Significant Dent In The Alliance"
"Lubberwort To Command And Raggabrash To Those That Now Hide In Their Manor's. Will You Let Yourselves Be Made Saddle-Goose, And Wandought To Our So Called Grand Commander"
"Are You Sol Or Are You Slaves!"
Kiran Would End His Speech or Mixed Insult their and Approach the Scribes that had been gathered in addition to his own.
"Please Pen within the letter's containing the Content of my Speech, That I Request Any Nobles of Both Lurian, Fellian or Sol Decent to Contact Me. I have no regard for status or rank, Only those willing to Act"
"If They Are Willing, I Will Take My Retinue And Alongside In Equal Anyone That Will Stand Alongside Me. We Will March Front, Everyone Alongside Each Other With No Retreat And It Will Attain Either Victory Or Death. March Will Be In Two Sunset and Sunrise, A Dawn War."
Kiran Continued, "For Those Of Sol, In Particular. Call Upon Your Families Or Great Nobles For Coin And Muster The Largest Retinue's You Can Until Your Last Coin Runs Dry If you Must"
4th February
Spring Day -- Unterstrom Vorstadt
Alessio de Medici
The return of the Emperor in Giask was one met with grave welcomes from the peasantry. How long had he been away? A year, maybe? It was far too long, nonetheless. Of the flowers that had been thrown his way, he picked some up to form a bouquet - they were purple anemones, Andrea's favourite. The faces of his people was a sight that felt so distant, but it was right there in front of him. Men, women, children. His people. His Empire.
In time, he did reach his estate and he waved to the peasants of the city, to look not at a crowd, but every man and woman within it. He sought to learn much about the Daimons in Nightmarch, but in truth had learned far more about himself. Nonetheless, he returned to Giask with family distant. A nephew at his side (though he would not truly replace Luca), some of his siblings, and his own children to tend to. Tonight, his daughter Lena would marry. With luck, Lisa would not be so far behind. Putting the flowers in the vase and leaving the new residents with the servants, Alessio went to bed to rest - before long, he would be in a carriage and they are not so comfortable so sleep in!
6th February
Spring Evening -- Weinschenk
Regstav Pryde
"By the gods, YES!" Regstav shouted as his Daimon Slayers sent another round of arrows into the enemy and one of the pennants announcing a noble of stature fell to the ground.
"Come on, guys! Let's show them how it's done!" he shouted again and dropped his flaming sword once more.
Another volley arced up into the air and came down once more.
"We've got them on the run, boys! Now show them what happens when they show their backs to us!"
His flaming sword dropped again and another volley of arrows shot high into the air.
An arrow smashed into Regstav and drove him into the ground. His eyes watered as it bit into his shoulder and he knew that was going to leave a mark. He tried to lever himself back up, but several heavy weights bore him back down.
"Stop moving, you idiot!" a voice he was pretty certain he recognized and knew shouldn't be talking to him in such a manner shouted in his ear. "Or we'll have to do this the EASY way!"
"My...boys," Regstav growled and tried to get up again.
"Brutus?" the voice said and a massive bulk moved between him and the fading sun.
"The easy way," a deep basso rumbled and Regstav watched the fist come down. It only hurt for a little bit.
His eyes opened again and he sat up with a groan as his head pounded.
"Brutus?" he whispered and fingered the bandage over his shoulder.
"Sorry, boss," the mountain of a man said from his right. "Doctor's orders."
"Are you sure he's a doctor?" Regstav grumbled and shook his head gently.
"Says so on his job description," Brutus rumbled.
"Good point." Regstav cleared his throat. "Help me up?"
"Sure thing, boss," the mountain said, palmed his good shoulder in one hand, and lifted Regstav to his feet without any trouble at all. Then the man's other hand patted him atop the head far more gently than most people could believe the man capable of. "Good as rain, boss."
"Sounds better than I feel," Regstav whispered and tried to cough. Ohhhh...that hurt.
"Better than you look, too," Brutus rumbled. "Boss."
"You know, dire things happen to those who disrespect me," Regstav said in as relaxed a manner as he could manage at the moment.
"I tremble in my boots, boss."
"Dire, I tell you," Regstav repeated in a darker tone and the mountain laughed next to him.
12th February
Spring Day -- Sallowscape Drift
Alabaster
As far as travel went, going by boat wasn't too bad. You didn't have to walk anywhere under your own steam, and being a paying customer meant not having to work the rigging or scrub the decks. Essentially you could keep to yourself and wait for mealtimes, which was exactly what Alabaster did.
She wasn't a fighter like many of her freeman brothers and sisters in the Rangers. Her secret shame was that she hadn't earned her title as a Royal, exactly.. she'd purchased it with her deeds for Kings and princes - and a good deal of gold. The sage hunter stroked the Royal Ranger pin idly before turning back to her journal. The boat gave a disconcerting shout - even the sailors abovedecks gave a shout - but she managed to save her ale and her ink from spilling. She frowned and aimed it upstairs at the ruckus.
The Dean of Field Studies, her official rank in the Dwilight Academy, was mostly ceremonial. She had submitted several papers but none of the noble academics gave them the time of day, being least of all concerned about sages and wizards and how to find them, or what components were best to make this scroll or that.
Alabaster was young, she supposed, to be trouncing around at the whims of noble Sirs and Ladies, ferrying their items and scrolls back and forth into the worst pits of Dwilight. Sages were typically insane, and wizards never bathed. She'd have laughed at herself, except for what she'd gotten herself into this time. Personal aide to a daimon ambassador! What was she thinking!
Her quill hovered over her journal, turned to a crisp new page. The rest of the large tome was stuffed full of sketchings, papers and maps, of charcoal rubbings and stolen souvenirs - a ladies kerchief, a pilfered gala invitation, and so on. But the value of the journal lay in the painstaking renditions of magical - unique - items which had crossed her path, had been in her possession for a time. There were dozens of them, mostly in charcoal, some in ink and fewer still in watercolour. The whole purpose of this trip was to release her obligation to repair the last of them, so she could go on this journey with Kyomi and not feel the need to dash off every time a sage or wizard was over the next hill. Because the gods knew that's what she'd done until now.
Was there nowhere on this boat to have a damned bath! It would have to wait until she alighted in Port Nebel, except then there'd be ANOTHER boat to wait for. It sure beat walking, anyway.
(OOC: if you imagine Alabaster as young, blonde and very slim, Nordic in sleeveless tunic and lots of belts, kinda bookish. If you cross Astrid with Gabrielle with Emily Bett Rickard, you've got it)
13th February
Spring Day -- Askileon
Alabaster
Alabaster sits in a well appointed inn room, a luxury she spoils herself with after many days at sea. She pens a short missive in neat letters,
"Kyomi,
I have departed the boat in Port Nebel and shall rest here before joining you in Port Raviel.
Am I to presume that .. and excuse me.. this, "|iꙅixꙅᎸꙅ iƚʜɿxɒwxʞ" represents perhaps, a journey or pilgrimage? A.. walkabout? In any case I am a small student of linguistics and hope to learn more if your tongue if such a thing can be taught.
Is there anything of this island you wish me to bring you before I come the rest of the way?
Yours in adventure,"
Alabaster Commoner of Morek Empire
18th February
Summer Day -- Poryatu
Alessio de Medici
As his son kept the honoured guest busy, Alessio himself wandered into the Medici armoury. Despite often wearing his ceremonial armour, he never was armed in wearing it, until now. The armourless mannequin stood with shield and sword alone and it was high time they were used. Alessio took them both, before visiting Sokhatai and Jean-Guy Flandin, the two most renowned smiths in Giask. It was time that the armour and blade were prepared for war. No longer would the Emperor reside within a city, but beside his men in battle.
Summer Evening -- Poryatu
Roleplay from Alessio de Medici Message sent to everyone in The Great Halls of Luria (48 recipients) - 1 hour, 44 minutes ago As young Doriano, finishes leaving the honoured guest in her quarters, he returns to his father's study, to find him finishing up a letter.
"Doriano, my boy, it is time to get dressed. Your sister soon marries and you will have the great opportunity to meet our great Praetor."
And so, the Medici family prepared in relative haste before their departure to Grodno by carriage. The journey would take a few hours, though it provided apt time for all cosmetics to be finalised as well as documents to be drawn up. More importantly, perhaps, Lena would be able to spend her last few hours as a betrothed woman before finally becoming a married one. She wore an intricate white gown with a tiara denoting her status as Princess of the Empire.
As the hours passed, the league of carriages had finally reached Ansil's location.
