Arcaea/Dining Hall Late 08-09/13th Night
Cypreana and Goffrey, having procured horses from the stables, started to ride out into the countryside to look at various pieces of land which were for sale and upon which she could either build her estate or move straight in. Her personal bodyguard, Sylus, followed on at a discrete distance. Cypreana had decided to hire him after the event on the road and she hoped he would measure up to the job. This was his first day after all but he seemed an experience and watchful man.
Cypreana couldn't decide whether she wanted to buy property with an existing house, or just land on which she would build. The pair of them began looking at both. Just as they were leaving one particular place one of Goffrey's servant rode up to him and said that urgent business called him back at court. Apparently two farmers were squabbling over the ownership of a cow and it looked like it could get dangerous.
Goffrey was hesitant to leave Cypreana, but she assured him that she would be fine with Sylus and that she would just ride a little further and return back to the castle before long. So, Sylus and Cypreana continued on together, him in the livery of the House of Rossini, and she in her riding habit and gloves.
Lady Cypreana Rossini (Dame of Sasat)
He had decided it would be best to backtrack to the better travelled paths, not only because they were suited to riding but simply because there was no way Aerywyn wished to risk breaking a leg going down the rock steps. With fresh ice on the ground, he wasn’t taking any chances this high up. Valaka’i whinnied as rocks broke off and fell under his feet, though he took comfort from the calm assurance of his master’s knees urging the way forward, and the gentle whispers in his ear.
Aerywyn trusted the gray charger well enough here in the mountains, for he had met his father. A king of the mountain was his sire. Soon the path widened and the wind seemed not as fierce nor biting, and greenery began filling out the landscape in front. It opened out onto a narrow strip of flat land. There was a palisade in the distance near the river and by the major pass that led through the barren mountains. Closer however on the road ahead, Aerywyn sighted something which made his heart skip a beat.
Nay… it can’t be…
Curious now, Aerywyn unconsciously urged the charger on a little faster towards the pair of figures in the distance. Blue eyes squinted hard, and suddenly he realised there was a lump in his throat, just as soon as he realised who was ahead. The soldier’s livery was unmistakeable, as were the dark hair and proud bearing of the woman riding ahead of him. A bright sun fell deeper under the horizon, framed by the silhouete of the mountains and forests, with the road falling in between. The beauty was not lost on him, nor the apparent significance of this…
“Hail, m’lady!”, Aerywyn cried when they finally closed in to each other. “Where is this little dove and her escoirt headed?”.
With renewed vigour he sat straighter in the saddle, tall as a spear, and only then did he notice how plain his clothes were. Yet there was a flush in his cheeks from the exhertion of the day and a happy look in his eyes, though his voice almost had a tone of hope, as if he was trying to deny what he had heard and known to be true about this woman.
Gods… Madelena looks more enchanting than ever in this light…
Aerywyn Haerthorne
Imperial Chancellor of Arcaea
Cypreana could not fathom who the man was riding behind her and seeming to call out to her. He was behaving in a very familiar way. She tried not to look around and see him but by the time he rode up beside her she had no choice but to look him in the eye and see reflected in them the same deep penetrating blue that was in her own eyes. Yet still she did not recognize him.
"Good day sir," She said cautiously. Her bodyguard meanwhile was watching this spectacle with his hand on a dagger waiting for the man to make one false move.
Lady Cypreana Rossini (Dame of Sasat)
Aerywyn bowed in the saddle, apologising as he did so.
“I am sorry, Lady Rosinni, I do not look as I normally do”.
That much was true, as a cursory glance would reveal. His normally well kept brown locks were tumbling messily about his head and over his brow from the ride. His clothes too were now dirty ridding attire, with a loose pair of briggae instead of either his platemail or courtly pantaloons with the little frills along the--
He brushed his hair back with a hand, hooking it behind his ear to give an almost wild look, and with the grin on his face he looked almost a simpleton if it weren’t for the intelligence blazing in his eyes.
“Do you still not recognise me?”, he ventured, sighing a bit dramatically as he realised it yielded little results. “Sir Aerywyn Haerthorne, at your service…”
He cleared his throat, eyeing the guard as he did so. Unconsciously his hand strayed to the pommel of his blade.
“What business do you have in Sasat, m’lady.”
Aerywyn Haerthorne
Imperial Chancellor of Arcaea
“Do you still not recognise me?”, he ventured, sighing a bit dramatically as he realised it yielded little results. “Sir Aerywyn Haerthorne, at your service…”
He cleared his throat, eyeing the guard as he did so. Unconsciously his hand strayed to the pommel of his blade.
“What business do you have in Sasat, m’lady.”
Cypreana squinted, trying to make out the man's features. She had never seen him before, she was sure of it, although as Imperial Banker she obviously knew his name. He seemed to expect everyone to recognize him, and although this was a little pompous and perhaps arrogant of him, she decided to play along for she could not make out whether or not he was in jest.
"Of course, Sir Aerywyn, silly me, how are you! I had the sun in my eyes and therefore could not see you properly. I am here looking for an estate to buy! Will you ride with me?"
Lady Cypreana Rossini (Dame of Sasat)
With a smile he bowed again, this time with his hand held over his chest. For a moment his face was hidden from the sun and from sight by his hair, and his expression changed from the melodramatic to something far simpler. When he rose again it was if another man sat in that saddle, the act having fallen away leaving a little mirth behind.
"Of course, m'lady", he said with more of his natural voice coming through. "May I ask what has interested you so far?"
His knees pushed into the sides of the horse, and the gray snorted a little as it looked Cypreana's horse over curiously. In a way, Aerywyn seemed to be doing the same. 'Theres something different about her... I can't place it...'.
Aerywyn Haerthorne
Imperial Chancellor of Arcaea
“I haven’t got far as Sir Goffrey was called away before we could make much progress. Do you know Sir Goffrey well?” she asked as the two fell into stride, side by side. Cypreana was glad that this knight had come to her rescue in traveling with her about the countryside. She still felt uneasy after the episode with the bandits and didn’t wholly believe her new bodyguard was up to much. Although being a kind, gentle sort of man, Cypreana could tell that Sir Aerywyn wasn’t someone to be trifled with either. “Ideally I would like to find the perfect location first, and then worry about building something later. I intend to spend as much time out of doors as possible, so a good view is important,” she continued. Was that a smile she noticed creeping on to Sir Aerwyn’s lips? She couldn’t be sure that it was but the corners did seem to turn up just a smidgeon.
Lady Cypreana Rossini (Dame of Sasat)
Aerywyn nodded to himself as he took in her words, already working on the task at hand. There were many places, although the logisitics of some would make the task of building an estate unsurmountable, to say the least. There was one place he could recommend however… not too far from the river.
“I have met him occasionally… he is a good man”, he said. “Handsome lad too, if a bit headstrong…”
He could feel that she was looking at him, and as Aerywyn tilted his head to look at her he could feel that smile growing despite all his efforts. Neither could he help but feel like laughing, but for what reason he did not know why.
“What are you looking at?”, Aerywyn asked lightly.
Aerywyn Haerthorne Imperial Chancellor of Arcaea
“I believe I am looking at the fine view and prospect which is before me,” replied Cypreana, blushing slightly as she turned and faced the path ahead. By way of distraction she gently patted her horse’s neck.
“Sir Goffrey saved my life you know…” she continued. “I was set upon by a band of robbers, and he rescued me. Who knows what might have happened should he not have come along looking for me! I owe him much.”
There was a silence between them which seemed to last an age.
“But it is nice to finally meet you,” she continued, anxious that there be no awkwardness. “I have heard so much about you from my sister, with whom I am not on better grounds, and I can assure you that it is all good!”
Aerywyn’s face stared blankly back at her.
Just then the penny dropped.
“Oh!” she said as her gloved hand went involuntary up to her gaping mouth. “You thought I was Madelena!” She started to laugh. “Sir Aerywyn, I am not Madelena, I am Cypreana!”
Lady Cypreana Rossini (Dame of Sasat)
For a time Aerywyn stared at Cypreana, stunned as he was by the revelation. His lips parted as if he was about to say something, then they merely resigned themselves to an expression of self-mocking realisation. He had seen the portraits, and gods knew he should have thought before acting… he himself already had found out the her sister had come into Arcaea, and into Goffrey’s service as well.
Cypreana… the bookish one, or so Madelena had said... no wonder there had seemed something different about her. More dignified almost.
His eyes darted to hers, seeing the embarrasment there. Thinking almost in tune with his master, the gray charger stopped Cypreana’s horse whilst Aerywyn offered a simple yet elegant bow from the saddle. Although the wind blew his hair about his face, he lost very little composure as he broke the silence.
“My apologies then, Cypreana, but it is difficult… to tell such beauty apart…”, he said frankly. “In that case then, we haven’t been properly introduced.”
He took her hand with a swift and gentle motion, gazing curiously into those eyes as he kissed her hand.
“Sir Aerywyn Haerthorne. At your service”.
Aerywyn Haerthorne Imperial Chancellor of Arcaea
Goffrey rode next to the messenger, not exactly excited about ruling on a court issue that had to do with a cow, but thus was the down side to being a baron. So with resignation Goffrey rode down the rode back to his castle, his messenger trotting next to him.
It wasn’t until he was half way back to the manor, that Goffrey came up with a solution that would satisfy his duties as a region lord, and his role as guide to Lady Cypreana.
“You wouldn’t happen to have paper and pen on you, would you,” Goffrey inquired of his messenger. The man looked thoughtful for a moment, before reaching around inside his saddle bag. A moments search produced the requested items, filling Goffrey with elation at the prospect of a plan coming together.
“I almost hate to ask, but...can I barrow your back for a second?”
With the pen in one hand, and the paper held firmly against the back of the messenger, Goffrey wrote down a quick message, before throwing his signature on the end of it, to make things official. That done Goffrey handed the paper and pen back to the messenger and had him go over it aloud.
“I, Goffrey Massey, Baron and Lord of Sasat, do hereby decree that the aforementioned cow, shall be cut in half and divided equally between the disputing parties,” the scribe read aloud, before continuing on to the next paragraph, “Should a party relinquish their claim on the cow, in order that its life be spared, then that party shall receive the whole of the cow as is, signed Goffrey Massey Baron of Sasat.”
Leaving instructions to have the first half read aloud, and the second half read only to his steward, Goffrey turned back down the road, confident the court case would be resolved by the time he got back.
Goffrey rode back down the rough path, doubling his pace in an effort to catch up with Cypreana. An unknown amount of time passed, when he finally caught up to her...just in time to see Lord Aerywyn kissing her hand...
Goffrey wasn’t entirely sure what to make of that, he was steadfastly determined not to be jealous of a woman me met not but a day or so ago, after all rushing into things had been the end of his last ‘not’ relationship.
By the same token however, there are some reactions you just can’t help...
Nevertheless he pushed his personal problems to the side, happy at least to have gotten out of a boring day in court to spend time in the much more enjoyable company of Lady Cypreana.
So it was with a lighthearted smile, and a cheerful wave, that Goffrey rode up alongside the two nobles, and the stoic figure of the body guard.
Goffrey Massey
Baron of Sasat
Cypreana waved back as Sir Goffrey approached.
“I believe you know Sir Aerywyn, Sir Goffrey,” she smiled.
However all that Goffrey did in return was mumble something inaudible. Cypreana however was oblivious to this as she was happy to have two such strikingly handsome men riding on either side of her.
“What a merry party we shall be!” She exclaimed.
Just then she looked out ahead and noticed some rather severe thunder clouds rolling in quickly from the north, and before they knew it the first heavy droplets had started to fall.
Lady Cypreana Rossini (Dame of Sasat)
“Ah, of course. It is good to see you well milord Goffrey”, Aerywyn replied.
He noticed that his blonde brow was darkened by something in Goffrey’s mood, and he smiled wryly at that for he remembered hearing from the servant’s gossip of his rather jealous nature. Yet Aerywyn’s thoughts were disturbed, and he almost fell back as a particularly heavy droplet landed squarely on his nose.
It was not the most elegant of displays, as he struggled a bit to stay on his horse with eyes wide in shock. When he had quickly regained some semblance of dignity, he turned to Cypreana and blushed, with a bit of a helpless turn to the corner of his mouth.
“A merry party indeed.”
Aerywyn Haerthorne Imperial Chancellor of Arcaea
Goffrey rode next to the two, his lighthearted mood fading fast, as he felt a dark brooding mood seemingly take hold of him. So it took him completely by surprise when the sound of thunder cracking across the sky, and coming into contact with the ground, reverberated across the whole of Sasat.
"I believe thats our cue to seek shelter," he said, as he turned his horse off the beaten path and up of the slope of the hill, "There's an outcropping of rocks a short ride up this hill, they should provide enough cover for all of us."
Goffrey lead the group up the hill, the pace slowed as the drizzle turned into an out and out down pour, raining falling from the sky in sheets. They were all thoroughly soaked by the time they reached the sanctuary of the rocks, dismounting from their horses, and hurrying beneath the cover of the rocks. Their horses wandered off finding shelter more adequate for them amongst the trees.
The nobles and the body guard sat underneath the overhanging rock, their breaths coming out in clouds of fog. Goffrey quelled a shiver as reached within the saddle bag he had taken from his horse and reached within, pulling out several blankets he had brought for the horses, but they given the situation they would have to do.
He handed them out, giving the first to Cypreana, the second to Aerywyn, and the last to the body guard, who seemed to be the worse off of the four, obviously not used to being cold AND wet at the same time, but at the same time baring it stoically.
Out of blankets, with numbness already setting in on his finger tips and toes, Goffrey settled back against the cold unforgiving ground next to Cypreana, resigned to bare the cold, shaking only slightly every now and again.
Despite the situation, and the tingling of numbness in his extremities, Goffrey couldn't help but smile at their situation.
"Well..." he said, chuckling lightly as he did so, "...not quite as merry as I had in mind."
Goffrey Massey Baron of Sasat
Cypreana saw Goffrey shiver under his blanket and she wished she could put a loving arm around him to help keep him warm. She knew however that this would be completely inappropriate so instead she tried to keep the party merry, despite the fact that the rain was now coming down in torrents and it looked like it would stay that way for a while. The thunder rumbled and the lightening flashed but Cypreana was determined that this would not lower her spirits.
“Why don’t we sing? She looked first to Goffrey and then to Aerywyn. Do either of you sing?”
Before they could answer she broke out into a famous Orbeh verse she had learned in her childhood.
Sometimes there is rain Sometimes there is cloud Sometimes it is gloomy Dark fit for a shroud
But though there be trouble A brewing in sky We shall not perish Our spirits stay high
Sometimes there is danger Sometimes there is toil Sometimes there is cunning The devil to foil
But though there is evil At home in our midst We shall not perish If we maintain our wits
Sometimes I feel weary Sometimes quite forlorn Sometimes I could sleep Like I never was born
But I shall not slumber Nor never shall rest ’Til I know I am triumphed And completed the test
Sometimes there is rain Sometimes there is cloud Sometimes it is gloomy Dark fit for a shroud
But though there be trouble A brewing in sky We shall not perish Our spirits stay high
Cypreana had a mournful, lilting voice as she sang, almost as one would imagine the sirens calling the lost sailors in the fog to their deaths on a rock. Yet in the midst of that rang out a tiny little spark of happy, innocent joy which made one’s spirit sour and it was impossible not to want to join in with the singing and to ignore that tempest that surrounded them.
Lady Cypreana Rossini (Dame of Sasat)
Aerywyn sat in silence as he listened to Cypreana’s voice, and in that moment he knew he would forever praise or curse. Her song weaved through him, lifting his spirit higher, yet there was a sadness which made his heart drag heavily deep within his chest. His face was an expression of weary awe, like a soldier on the field faced with a haloed goddess. The rain drowned out the world till it was just this tiny little cave, these three people.
So the song faded away, until there was only the sound of the rain again, thunder deafening. Aerywyn wondered how he had at all heard her so clear. For a time he did not speak and turned his head so his face could not be seen. Though there was helplessness to it his voice was steady, albeit softer than usual…
“I am sorry, fair one… I do not know many songs other than ones of love and of sorrow…”.
Aerywyn Haerthorne Imperial Chancellor of Arcaea
Goffrey lay on the ground staring up at Cypreana in a mixture of childlike astonishment and awe. Truth be told, Goffrey had never really heard anyone sing before, outside of drunken nights at a tavern and the occasional church service, and it had never been quite like that.
"That was...," he said, momentarily stunned, the numbness forgotten, "...that was...beautiful Cypreane...just beautiful..."
'Your beautiful,' he almost said out loud before he caught himself, 'Remember Goffrey, SLOW.'
A sudden gust of wind passed through the enclosed space of the rocks, blowing about the blankets of the other nobles, and cutting Goffrey right to the bone.
Goffrey cringed under the cold, clutching his arms tighter to his chest in an attempt to warm his body, a futile attempt given the drenched nature of his clothes. He knew he only had one choice to keep warm at this point, but he was also considering just freezing to death to avoid it.
A moment of thought passed away, before Goffrey reached his inevitable decision.
"I'm sorry you all have to see this but," he said as he began to lift his shirt up and over his head reveling his harden battle scared chest, "this is hurting more then helping at this point."
The offending garment no longer attached to his body, Goffrey tossed it aside, and unconsciously scooted ever so closer to the warmth of Cypreana's blanket.
Now naked from the waist up, but also feeling ever so slightly warmer, Goffrey turned his thoughts to finding a song to sing for the given situation.
"Forgive me," he said after a futile search through his mind, "But I'm afraid I know hardly any songs at all."
Suddenly a thought struck him like a lightening bolt, "But I have been told that I can weave a tale or two if called upon to do so." He thought for a moment before the perfect one came to mind. Settling into an upright sitting position facing the other nobles, Goffrey began his tale.
"Once a long time ago, in a kingdom far away, there lived a young man, a perfectly normal youth, not of noble birth, not stronger, or better looking then any of the other boys his age. However this young man had two things that separated him from the others, one was his cat like cunning and quick wit, the other, and perhaps more peculiarly so, he had no name of his own."
"Now one day the boy grew tried of his boring life alone in his quaint village and decided to leave and see as much of the world as he could. However, he had no money to speak of, and even less food to make such a travel, but that wouldn't stop a smart boy like him. So the next day the boy packed up the few belongs in his possession and left for the nearby castle of his lord."
"A day and a nights journey later and the boy found himself at the foot of the castle, the first step on his journey, however the gate keeper was less then helpful in his quest, demanding his name before letting him in. 'I have no name,' the boy insisted, only agitating the guard on. A hour passed as the boy and the guard went back in forth like this, before the boy finally relented, 'Alright, alright, I do have a name, but its so odd that I really wish you wouldn't make me say it,' said the boy at last. Aggravated that so much of his time had been wasted on a single boy the guard DEMANDED the boy tell him what his name was. 'My name is, Itoldmyself,' said the boy timidly, as he cast his face downward in embarrassment."
"The guard, perplexed at the strangeness of the boy's name, but at the same time finding it to far fetched to be made up, agreed to let the boy enter the castle and seek an audience with the local steward. Now the steward of the castle was a fat, old, strict, kind of man with a stick up his arse the size of a small tree. And as the boy presented himself before the lord he angrily demanded to know his name before anything else was discussed.
"The boy insisted he had no name, but it fell on deaf ears, so once again he relented and said 'Alright, I do have a name, but it’s so odd I really wish you wouldn't make me say it.' Intrigued at this, the steward demanded the boy tell him his odd name." 'My name is, Holdmeback,' said the boy meekly. The steward paused for a moment, absorbing this information as best he could, before bursting into a loud bellowing laugh that echoed about his halls.”
“By the time the steward finished laughing, he had collapsed fully into his fist, grasping his sides in an overtly exhausted manner. The boy, literally red in the face with shame at this point, asked the steward for a job within the castle. The steward, in such a fine mood after hearing the boy’s ridiculous name, told the boy to go see the head chief about a job in the kitchen.”
“Standing in the kitchen now, before the head chief, the boy was once again inquired as too what his name was. The boy once again insisted that he had no name, but the chief refused to listen, telling the boy that he could not be of use without a name. The boy sighed and relented once more, ‘Alright, he said, I do have a name, but its so odd, that I wish you wouldn’t make me say it,’ the chief assured the boy that he had heard plenty odd names in his time and urged him to continue, ‘My name is, Thecat’ the boy shamed face once again. The chief merely nodded his acknowledgement before assigning the boy to wash the dishes.”
“A hard days work later, and the boy found himself quite famished. Noticing the scraps from the steward’s meal would make a finer meal then the rations he was provided, so he asked the chief if he could partake of them. The chief, although usually quite lenient himself, knew that it would be prudent to ask the steward first unless an impromptu beating was ordered."
“Rushing to the stewards room, the chief peeked his head in, and said, ‘My Lord, The Cat wishes to make a meal of your scraps.’ Irritated that he had been wakened for such a trivial matter, but too tried to order a beating, the steward angrily gave his consent, before ordering that chief never wake him for such a minor issue again.”
“Days passed like this, each one the boy gather, a bit more food, and a bit more money, but before long, he yearned for the open road and the warmth of the sun on his face. So one day, the boy gathered together all the food and money he had earned, and made to leave the castle, and resume his travels once more.”
“The steward, seeing one of his best servants leaving without permission rushed forward to stop him, crying ‘STOP HOLD ME BACK STOP HOLD ME BACK.’ The other servants, confused by such a strange order, but eager to avoid a beating, rushed forward to comply to the stewards commands.”
“The lone guard watching the gate at this time of day, turned to figure out what all the commotion was about, just in time to catch a fleeting sight of the boy, before he was ploughed over and pushed into the castle moat. As the boy fled into the distance the steward pried himself from his servants, and fell upon the guard as he pulled himself from the moat, drenched to the marrow. ‘Who told you, you could swim on guard duty,’ inquired the steward angrily. ‘I TOLD MYSELF, I TOLD MYSELF,’ was the only thing the guard could say in response.”
Goffrey was laughing as he finished his story, never growing bored of it, no matter how many times he told it. His laughter abated after awhile, and a far off look entered his eyes.
“You know, my father told me that story, a long time ago, in fact, when I think about it, I think that was the first I ever learned.”
Goffrey leaned back against the rock wall, as a look of deep thought came over him. He shook the memories from him, and turned to his attention back to the nobles, eager to see how they had reacted to his story.
Goffrey Massey
Baron of Sasat
He drew the horse up alongside Cypreana’s, checking that all else was well before his eyes settled upon her. Aerywyn had hacked off a lot of his hair for the tourney, giving him a kind of boyish rascal look. Regardless, he had done a good job of it. After the storm had abated, the three companions had gone about their business and set out for the long awaited wedding. Goffrey himself seemed to have ridden a day ahead after having been quite fiercely gripped by tourney fever all the way in the mountains; he seemed to have an urge to train incessantly in the time left available to him.
The Eagle’s spire stood lonely in the distance, yet beneath its gaze there was no doubt plenty going on. Although they had declined to travel in a larger group, there were more than enough people on the roads and inns to make it almost impossible to be away from it all.
Yet here they rode together on a rather quiet stretch between Remton and Nocaneb. Aerywyn was still held like a thrall to her voice from those few nights ago, and he held Cypreana in much greater respect than he had before. Eventually he spoke.
“Do you sing often?”.
Aerywyn Haerthorne Imperial Chancellor of Arcaea
