Rea Family/Dancer/Hard Lessons
Roleplay from Anyte Luitolf Player experience level: mentor Player play preference: rp (Personal message to Dancer Rea) - 25 days, 23 hours, 52 minutes ago Anyte reads over the letter from Dancer while sipping her brandy. You're damn right you trust me, She thought to herself, You better, though you might not here in a few days.
"Allova, be a dear. Have an announcement sent to the region. It will say that Sir Dancer is my new Steward." "Mistress, is that wise? You know most in the realm dislike him." "Since when have I cared about that? I need someone to take care of the bounty boards while I do my inspection travels. Oh, and take this letter I have personally written to him on the matter." "Of course, mistress, as you say."
Sir Dancer,
I recieved you letter, and I don't care about an Agyran being here. I have advocated for peace with them and still do. I know this is not why you invite him, but having an Agyran here without harm will show how dedicated we truly are to Ar Agyr.
On a side note, I will soon have to leave to start my inspections so I will need some one that I trust to keep on eye on the peasants, food, and bounty boards the advies hunt from. Particularly the last part. Keep the advenurer's happy and they tend to be more useful. As such, I have appointed you Steward of Lastfell.
Allova sighs as she heads toward the door to make the announcement, and have the letter that was sweet with Anyte's perfumes delivered.
Roleplay from Anyte Luitolf Player experience level: mentor Player play preference: rp Message sent to all nobles of Thalmarkin (50 recipients) - 23 days, 23 hours, 56 minutes ago Anyte walked down in the basement deep below the actual Bathory, not the tower. Few people could tell the difference because it was well hidden. He had been dragged here. The one who had brought the illicit substances to her home, to the Castle of Lastfell. She could hear the screams of agony billow up the stairs almost like smoke from a chimney in the middle of the frozen winter of the north. Something was off though. The screams didn't sound like they were of real pain, but more like a cacophony of demented pleasure. Confused, Anyte finally entered the door.
"Matron, what in the world are you doing? I told you to torture him for the name of the sender, not whore yourself out and bare him children!" she screamed, angrily, as she burst through the door, but when she caught eye of the man being tortured. He was sitting there, bloody and burned, black and blue, cut and stabbed. Yet the man sat there, laughing, begging the torturer for more. Anyte could not make heads or tails of what was going on. She looked over at the woman holding the hot irons, "What is wrong with him?" she whispered.
"Mistress, I... I don't know. He seems... to be enjoying anything and everything I do to him." The Matron said flabbergasted. Annoyed, Anyte marched up the scrawny man with rotted teeth, but he started laughing before she could speak. "I know what you want!" He divulged through short, raspy laughs, "And I'll tell you since this lovely lady showed me such a good time. It was a man named Darius, sending the drugs to one Dancer."
With this information, she immediately walked over to the table and because to scribble a letter.
Dispreputable Drugdealer Darius,
As the Lady of Lastfell, and Ambassador of Thalmarkin, I hereby demand you cease your sending of illicite substances to my realm. We have enough issues without you adding in drugs into the mix. If you continue you do this, I will do everything in my power to ensure your enitre realm pays for your transgressions against my people. Armies, magic, famine, all of it will befall your people and it will be on your head.
Anyte Luitolf Chancellor of Thalmarkin Ambassador of Thalmarkin Margravine of Lastfell
She turned and walked back to the messenger. "You will deliver this back to your master, or I promise you I will find something don't enjoy so much."
Orders from Baelunìataisharà Blue Player experience level: new Player play preference: unsure Message sent to: Anyte Luitolf, Dancer Rea - 7 days, 11 hours, 33 minutes ago Dancer,
Leave your estate now.
And by Mordok, if you screw this up I will kill you myself, after letting Athena have her way with you. This region is vital to our realm, and we expect the income to come back to us to support the realm.
Don't let us down! No pressure...
Kisses!
Baelunìataisharà Blue Queen of Thalmarkin Royal of Thalmarkin Duchess of Sandefur Countess of Rolbury Marshal of the Ursine Legion
Appointed as Lord (Personal message) - 7 days, 11 hours, 26 minutes ago Baelunìataisharà Blue, Queen of Thalmarkin, Royal of Thalmarkin, Duchess of Sandefur, Countess of Rolbury, Marshal of the Ursine Legion has appointed you as the new lord of Jedinchel. You should probably check out the region and estates and make sure everything runs smoothly.
Report from Dancer Rea Player experience level: experienced Player play preference: inactive Message sent to: Anyte Luitolf, Baelunìataisharà Blue - 7 days, 11 hours, 2 minutes ago What ever you need, My Queen. Your will is my will, until the day the Lords walk this land again. On that day, I will leave you in peace. You'll need everything you have to survive.
Thank you for this opportunity, I will take care of Jed to the best of my ability.
~Dancer Rea
Sir Dancer Rea Baron of Jedinchel Report from Anyte Luitolf Player experience level: mentor Player play preference: rp Message sent to: Baelunìataisharà Blue, Dancer Rea - 7 days, 10 hours, 53 minutes ago Dancer,
You will be loyal forever, or I will sacrifice you to my lords myself.
Anyte Luitolf Chancellor of Thalmarkin Ambassador of Thalmarkin Margravine of Lastfell Letter from Dancer Rea Player experience level: experienced Player play preference: inactive Message sent to: Anyte Luitolf, Baelunìataisharà Blue - 7 days, 10 hours, 46 minutes ago My Love, we've talked about this, at length. Must we bring it up to the Queen as well?
~Dan
Sir Dancer Rea Baron of Jedinchel Letter from Anyte Luitolf Player experience level: mentor Player play preference: rp Message sent to: Baelunìataisharà Blue, Dancer Rea - 7 days, 10 hours, 41 minutes ago Dancer,
I built this realm with my own two hands. I will not see it fall so easily.
Anyte Luitolf Chancellor of Thalmarkin Ambassador of Thalmarkin Margravine of Lastfell
Letter from Dancer Rea Player experience level: experienced Player play preference: inactive Message sent to: Anyte Luitolf, Baelunìataisharà Blue - 7 days, 7 hours, 9 minutes ago Unless you plan to convince the entire realm to come to my way of thinking, Thalmarkin will burn with the rest. It has been that way for six invasions now, and it will always be that way until the island sinks below the waves. Would the Great Lords step forth today, I have have no doubt Thal would survive, but it will be brought to heel, just like the rest. I've grown..... fond of several of those that live here, which is why I will have no part of your destruction, and will leave peacefully rather then attempt to tear you apart. Even if my Lords commanded me, I will take their wrath over raising my hand against this realm.
~Dan
Sir Dancer Rea Baron of Jedinchel
Letter from Anyte Luitolf Player experience level: mentor Player play preference: rp Message sent to: Baelunìataisharà Blue, Dancer Rea - 7 days, 6 hours, 50 minutes ago Dancer,
I will give you one chance to retract your statements, otherwise, even I will be forced to turn my back. You pray to these daimons, yet even you yourself say there have been six invasions. If they are as all-powerful as you say they are, why are we even having this conversation? Why have humans triumphed and pushed them back every single time? I have gone out of my way to see you treated well. I have spoken up on your behalf. I have defended you when none else would. Yet you turn to a group of failures, beings that have lost time and time again to us, over the love I have shown you. It truly breaks my heart that would still see them above those of us that have welcomed you into our lives with open arms. I think you need to truly think about the things you say. I think you need to truly decide what you really want. Will you spurn us, those that truly care about you and welcome you with love and caring, for beings that literally tortured you?
Anyte Luitolf Chancellor of Thalmarkin Ambassador of Thalmarkin Margravine of Lastfell
Roleplay from Dancer Rea Player experience level: experienced Player play preference: inactive Message sent to all nobles of Thalmarkin (32 recipients) - 6 days, 23 hours, 1 minute ago Autumn leaves danced across the road on occasion, a swirl of oranges and reds covering the dirt. The sun's warmth was warming his wolverine pelt, but it didn't reach down to his skin. Jax trotted obediently, carrying him closer and closer to Lastfell.
I will give you one chance to retract your statements, otherwise, even I will be forced to turn my back.
Jax slowed to step over a fallen log, jostling Dancer slightly. Some small rodent skittered to the tree line, the leaves crackling to mark its path.
I have gone out of my way to see you treated well. I have spoken up on your behalf. I have defended you when none else would.
He'd done it, this time. He'd only been telling the truth, why was she so mad? He'd left the tournament grounds early, just to get back to her. What would he say? What could he say? This was foolish of him - he should have just sent her a letter. No, a letter wasn't personal enough, he should talk to her in person. He wouldn't be able to throw the paper away in person though...he should have just sent a letter..... What was he going to say?
Will you spurn us, those that truly care about you and welcome you with love and caring, for beings that literally tortured you?
Roleplay from Dancer Rea Player experience level: experienced Player play preference: inactive Message sent to all nobles of Thalmarkin (32 recipients) - 6 days, 22 hours, 34 minutes ago The small wood gate to the Bathory proper was always guarded, and today was no exception. Two Bathory maidens stood at attention on either side of the gate, and Dancer knew there were at least four more on the other side, watching from various weapon holes. He stiffly slid off Jax, his side and buttocks protesting so loud he was amazed they didn't actually make a sound. He'd rode straight from Unger soon after he'd gotten her letter, Jax keeping a good brisk trot.
"Ladies, if you could inform the Chancellor that Dancer Rea is here."
Both of the warriors looked at him in mild confusion before one spoke, "Baron, we have standing orders to simply let you in, you don't need announced."
The shorter of the two warriors was reaching to open the gate as Dancer replied. "This time, I do. Go and speak to your Lady. I...want to be sure she has time in between her duties."
The maiden paused opening the gate, looking to the other woman. A silent agreement went between them, and the first woman looked back at Dancer, and nodded her head.
"I will inform her you are here, please, wait here."
The warrior slipped inside, leaving Jax, Dancer, and the second warrior alone. Dancer began to unsaddle Jax, without another word. Would she hear him out? What was he even going to say?
Letter from Anyte Luitolf Player experience level: mentor Player play preference: rp Message sent to all nobles of Thalmarkin (31 recipients) - 5 days, 9 hours, 8 minutes ago Kin,
I demand to know who has been patrolling my region and arrested an official ambassador sent by Obia for discussions! This was put out to you all before she even arrived to leave Lady Mercy be, and will likely be viewed as greatly insulting!
Anyte Luitolf Chancellor of Thalmarkin Ambassador of Thalmarkin Margravine of Lastfell
Roleplay from Anyte Luitolf Player experience level: mentor Player play preference: rp Message sent to all nobles of Thalmarkin (31 recipients) - 4 days, 3 hours, 15 minutes ago Anyte stood in her study after the arrest of the Ambassador, wondering exactly what to do about the situation. One one hand, she was an Obian, and all Obians deserved what happened to them, on the other she was an Ambassador sent on official business to conduct diplomacy. It didn't matter in the end, what was done was done, and all she could do now was write an appeal to the judge fur her release. It was just as she sat down with paper, quill, and a nice glass of her custom monster brandy that the maiden came through the door.
"Mistress Anyte, Lord Dancer is here to see you. I know that you have said before..." she began, but Anyte quickly cut her off. "That ingrate dares to show his face here, in my own keep, after what he said, and without even apologizing?"
The Bathory Maiden stood there, looking confused, no idea what was going on. Anyte had not had time to spread the news of him being unwelcome until he retracted his filthy, unwarranted words. "Mistress, should I send him away?" the maiden asked, knowing not to pry too much lest her mistresses ire fall on her. "No, no. I would say take him to the dungeons, but it pains a part of me to even think of that. Instead, have a detachment escort him to the top of the tower, and put him in the nice chambers meant for political prisoners. Tell him I will come and talk to him when I feel ready, and when he is ready to apologize and retract his words."
The maiden went over the message in her head, ensuring she would not forget it, and ran down to get the women needed to carry out the orders.
Roleplay from Dancer Rea Player experience level: experienced Player play preference: inactive Message sent to all nobles of Thalmarkin (27 recipients) - 1 day, 23 hours, 42 minutes ago While they were waiting, Dancer had been pulling at straps, freeing Jax from the riding saddle with several practiced movements. With a grunt of effort, Dancer pulled the whole saddle off, buckles jangling in the cool afternoon air. Jax snorted, and nudged Dancer's shoulder. Dancer looked at the quarter horse, and let a smile tug at the corners of his mouth. Clearly the hellhound could tell Dancer's stomach was a kaleidoscope of butterflies. Dancer reached out, scratching Jax's long nose.
"Perhaps something smaller, Jax. You'll hardly fit in the halls if you stay a horse."
The hellhound snorted, but stepped back a pace before shimmering out of focus for a moment. After a second or so, a large black great dane stood in the horse's place, huffing slightly.
"Much better Jax. Take my pack, would you?"
Dancer pointed at his ever present stained pack, discarded near the saddle. He'd worked hard on the leather pack, adding a large, padded handle to the top just for this purpose. Obediently, Jax padded over, his mouth fitting easily into the handle. The ritual sword hanging off the side of the pack bopped Jax in the nose as he picked it up, but settled out of the hellhound's way after a moment. Dancer had his plain cavalry sword attached to his belt today, but that never stopped him from bringing his ritual sword along; he just didn't feel right without it nearby.
The small door in the gate to the Bathory opened, and the first guard slipped back out, but this time, she brought eight other Maidens with her.
-----------------------
Brandilin was struggling to keep a blank face. She'd never been part of arresting a noble before, and she'd certainly not been in charge of the whole operation. After the Lady Anyte had given her orders, she had rushed to the barracks, grabbing Maidens she trusted along the way. They had stood in a circle, hashing out the best way to go about arresting the Executioner, worried looks across the board. They all knew Dancer, of course. He'd been in charge of the Courts until recently, and they had all witnessed his judgments a one time or another. Death was the only sentence passed for crimes in Lastfell, and Dancer had earned the name 'Executioner' many times over. They'd all watched him swing the sword, no remorse on his face. After a short debate, they'd made a rough plan, and gathered their weapons. Now they stood outside the keep, slowly circling their target. Brandilin tried to smile at the noble, but she was pretty sure it fell flat.
"Baron, we will escort you. However, I have to ask that you come disarmed, and that you send the......dog, away."
She held out her hand, attempting another disarming smile. She was careful not to mention what the Lady had said, not yet. His face flickered, and settled on a slight frown. Her fellow Maidens held still, bodies tighter then bowstrings as they held their weapon handles in loose grips. Would this be the moment they had to take him down? How many of her fellows would fall to his sword, or the dog that always seemed to be at his side? Brandilin waited for any move from the noble, any indication of where he would strike. Then he spoke, voice low and gravelly.
"Jax," he unbuckled the sword at his side, and began to attach it to the pack the monster held, "Take this to one of my Brothers, and return here and wait for me when you are done."
He stepped back from the dog, and the Maidens allowed it to walk past them, back down to the surrounding town. Brandilin dropped her offered hand. The dog taking his weapons was just as good, either way he was unarmed, and alone. Silently, her host fell in around the Executioner, a maneuver they had all practiced many, many times.
"Come with us."
Roleplay from Dancer Rea Player experience level: experienced Player play preference: inactive Message sent to all nobles of Thalmarkin (27 recipients) - 1 day, 23 hours, 11 minutes ago Something was wrong. He could feel the tension from the maidens as the group walked through the Bathory. They'd disarmed him, which they had never done before, and an eight man escort was seven more then he needed to find her office. Naturally, he'd neglected to tell them about the dagger under his shirt, but after that assassin had come after him, he'd been careful to keep a blade of some sort on him at all times. Up flight after flight of stairs they went, well past were he knew her office was at. He would have demanded an explanation, but every maiden in his escort had a hand on a weapon, and they walked in a tight formation around him. For now, he would just have to follow them. Why couldn't he just go to her office and speak with her? Why escort, all the show?
He was deep in thought when they reached the top of the most recent set of stairs, mindlessly following the group through a doorway with a heavy oak door, and down a short hallway. It took three breaths for him to realize what he'd walked into. The first breath he had wasted, looking back at the doorway, instead of in front of him. Why did that door have a barred window? The second breath, he'd looked forward, seeing the end of the hallway open to a large room. The room was circular, with a small open area in the center. Iron bars ringed the area, the space beyond separated into three well furnished cells. Unlike most prisons he'd walked into, everything was lavish, the furniture, bedding, everything fit for a noble. He would have thought he was at someone's estate, if it wasn't for the bars.
His thoughts lagged behind his footsteps, new questions fighting for his attention. Where were they? What were these cells for? Why was she meeting him in a cell block? Where was she? It was the third breath when understanding crashed down on him. The cell across from the hallway stood open, a stone faced guard waiting by the door, shackles in her hand. A handful of emotions flashed across his mind, shock, horror, and betrayal all making appearances before his old friend, anger, took over in a wave. How dare she? He'd trusted her, with everything he had. And now she meant to imprison him, like some common criminal.
In one movement, he pulled his hidden dagger and spun around, slashing at the throat of maiden right behind him. Skin parted and a long gash opened from the maiden's chin to her ear. She stumbled back, clutching the wound. The move would have disappointed his infiltration tutor, had he seen it. It was one of the moves Dancer had been struggling to preform. Now he wished he'd practiced more. Steel rang though the space, as every one of the guards pulled a weapon. Dancer was two steps to the hallway with the door, before a sword flicked in front of him, inches from his throat. Brandilin had been ready for him, getting ahead of his escape.
"Drop the dagger, and be civil, Baron. The Mistress Anyte has ordered you placed here, until she is ready to speak with you, and you are ready to apologize and retract your words."
The moment Brandilin had made was enough for the rest of the escort to surround him properly again, swords drawn. Dancer's milky eyes flicked around the room, judging. He'd lost his chance, and with a sinking feeling, he dropped his dagger. It clattered to the floor, and the maidens moved in.
Roleplay from Dancer Rea Player experience level: experienced Player play preference: inactive Message sent to all nobles of Thalmarkin (28 recipients) - 21 hours, 36 minutes ago Lastfell (1/2) The night had gone well, for a little while. Dancer wasn't used to a soft bed, nor a thick duvet. In fact, he had explicitly forbade his estate servants from touching his bed at all, preferring a hard mattress and thin blanket; he dreamed less that way. Tonight, he had crawled under the covers of the strange bed thankfully. The maidens had not taken kindly to his attack, and his body was sore from head to toe from the beating they had handed him. His lip was busted, and one of them had got him square in the eye as well. Considering the pounding his face had taken, the morning would bring a black circle around his eye for sure. At first, he'd struggled to get comfortable at all, between his aching bones and the set of cold metal wrist shackles they'd insisted on locking to him. After a while the metal warmed up, his body relaxed into the soft bed, and he began to dream.
He knew it was a dream in a matter of moments. A dark plain stretched before him, small fires burning here and there. He was on a hill, overlooking the carnage, blood still dripping from his sword. Dancer blinked, and cursed. He'd seen this one before, and it never ended well. His brother, Darius, had been sending him brownies with who knows what in them, to help him sleep past these nightmares. The last shipment had never came, and he'd been running on half doses out of his emergency stash for a while now. It seemed the brownies weren't much use the next night, at least when he was stuck on half rations.
He cursed again, raising his sword, and spinning around. This nightmare was simple enough, at least. Something would come for him, and drag him into the darkness, kicking and screaming. When, were, what and how were always a bit different, but the setting and result was the same. His hunch paid off, as he parried a silent swing from a shadowy figure. This time, the monster was a shadow, humanoid in size and shape, with a long pointed arm it swung as a weapon. He had to keep a hold on his sword. Every time he'd lost his weapon, he'd been dragged off shortly after. Daemonic runes flickered as Dancer parried another strike from the creature. So, he got his real sword this time, it seemed. He'd been stuck with a dagger, his cavalry sword, or his whip, more then once now during this particular nightmare. None of those weapons were versatile enough to protect him properly, always failing him in the end. His ritual sword always held out for him, at least at first.
Another flick, and he caught the shadow on its stomach, and the beast took a step back. Dancer wisely used this moment to turn tail, running headlong down the hillside. He'd tried to fight in previous dreams, and that had failed as well. In what felt like seconds, he hit the bottom of the hill, and began the trek across the plain. The small fires he had seen from the hilltop were much larger here, black smoke lazily curling into the dark sky. Now that he was closer, he could see the source of the fires, and he curled his lip. The smell was what always got to him here, the acidic, nauseating stench burning his nostrils. He'd seen piles like this, hundreds of times, but, even outside of his dreams, he'd never gotten over the smell of burning flesh.
Roleplay from Dancer Rea Player experience level: experienced Player play preference: inactive Message sent to all nobles of Thalmarkin (28 recipients) - 21 hours, 31 minutes ago (2/2) He picked his way though the piles, giving each a wide berth. Several iterations of this nightmare had the bodies grabbing at him, and he was not going to deal with that again. The shadow-creature was nowhere in sight, but Dancer could feel it still hunting him, like a cold breeze at his back. Pile after pile he passed, charred bodies, one after the other. Some faces he knew, Spearhold nobles, Riombara peasants, anyone in Thalmarkin, they all blurred by as he trotted through the wasteland. Dancer was checking behind him every so often, watching for the pursuit. Without warning, the shadow-thing reappeared, pacing out in front of him from behind a pile of corpses in with his advies' faces on them, already swinging its sword-arm at his head. By Akkan, he'd thought it was behind him. He wasn't ready, and his sword arm moved like molasses. Everything moved slowly, as if to chide him for his inattention. Fear shot through him, pure adrenaline as he tried, vainly, to parry the blow. The shadow bared down, its arm getting closer and closer to his head. He wasn't going to stop it, he was going to be killed, he'd have to suffer the darkness again. The last thing he saw before his skull was shorn in half was two green eyes glaring down at him.
Then, the darkness came, as it always did. Darkness, then pain, lights, screaming, a stone brick wall, chains, blood, darkness, and more agonizing pain.
He awoke, screaming and clawing at the blankets, shackles loudly clanging as he untangled himself from the ample bedding. He was in his boxers, on the stone floor near the bed. Cold sweat covered his skin, and he was shaking like a leaf, tears rolling down his face. The guard was at the bars, sticking a torch inside his cell, peering at the mess of bedsheets.
"You ok in there?" She asked. Dancer was breathing heavily, trying to control the shaking. He'd instinctively curled up in a ball, and held his head in his hands.
"I'm fine," he growled. The maiden stared at him for a moment, before rolling her eyes and returning to a chair on the opposite wall near hallway.
Dancer didn't even try to sleep the rest of the night.
