Arcaea/Dining Hall Late 08-09/A Feast In Lantzas
In his residence in Remton, Darius' scribe read out some of his most recent mail.
"...and General Thalathafn wants everyone who expressed interest in the marshal position to meet him in Remton." The scribe looked up for a moment. "that includes you."
"Hm? But don't I have orders from Euran to attend his feast?"
The scribe leafed through the messages briefly.
"Ah... yes, indeed. Thast does present a bit of a condundrum..."
Darius blinked.
"What?"
"Oh, a problem, sire."
"Well, I can see that, but how do you suggest I resolve it?"
Someone knocked on the door. The scribe went to it, and returned with a letter.
"From the office of the general, yada yada... ah, here we are! The General now wishes for marshal candidates to meet in Lantzas in conjunction with the Baron's feast. Certainly saves us some bother..."
Darius leapt to his feet.
"Excellent, then. I need you to come with me to the bank for a while, but then we get the men together, and head to Lanzas."
Sir Darius Exiled (Knight of Lantzas)
Castle Lantze was a squat unpolished fortified mansion, complete with a surrounding stone wall that served as a wind break against the harsh gales which frequently swept across Lantzas' dusty plain. A cracked track lead up to the unimpressive gate which offered a way past the wall for those who were to lazy to simple climb over it; Lantze's fortifications were crumbled in multiple places.
Once welcomed past this gate, the nobles who had arrived for the feast were ushered into a waiting room, where any extra belongings were taken from them and stored in a safe place. The castle's interior was somewhat more impressive than the exterior, with torches bracketed to the walls, the heads of dangerous monsters hanging in various places, and even some paintings of mythological heroes vanquishing their foe. After the necessary arrangements had been made, the double doors to the Great Hall were opened and the various nobles invited to enter.
Baron Euran had clearly made an effort. No less than four great hogs could be seen roasting over spits, each carefully tended to by a servant. The atmosphere was decidedly warm. Despite this, his soldiers proudly stood to attention in full armour, guarding the entrance. Pitchers of beer were already situated on the table, with an array of crunchy honey coated appetisers for the guests to choose from. More servants stood by with more sophisticated drinks, ready to fulfill nobles' demands.
Several tables were strung together to cover the length of the room, accompanied by an equally diverse selection of chairs and benches, forming a single line. At their head, in an uncomfortable looking but extremely ornate family heirloom, sat the Lord of Lantzas. He stood up at the entrance of the guests, and drew in a deep breath.
"Welcome, lords and ladies, to Lantzas! Let the feasting begin!"
Euran Yetisbane Kandurell Baron of Lantzas
Darius walked into the feasting hall, with some other minor nobles around him, chattering about social affairs of little immediate interest to him. Even in this occasion, he felt strangely overlooked, and wasn't sure if this was good or bad. he glanced back pleadingly at his scribe, beckoning him over and stepping to one side.
"Are you sure about this?" Darius muttered. "I feel like an idiot."
The scribe surveyed him critically for a moment, and brushed some dust off his tunic.
"You look fine. Blue is your colour. Just enjoy yourself - you won a tournament, they should be the ones embarrassed by being near you."
Darius looked as if he didn't believe it, but the scribe hushed him and ushered him in. Walking along the benches, Darius looked for a friendly face, when a servant approached him.
"Sir Darius Exiled, of Lantzas?"
"Er.." Darius turned. "Yes, that would be me."
"Wonderful. If you would like to come this way, the baron has reserved you a seat at his side."
With feelings of great trepidation, Darius headed up along the benches with the servant. Approaching the top of the table, he saw Euran, and smiled. Here, at least, was someone he could talk to.
"Sir Darius Exiled of Lantzas," the servant reported, and left.
Darius bowed momentarily, nodded to his liege, and took his seat.
"My lord, I am flattered," he said.
Euran smiled.
"It is good of you to come, it's not often we get a chance to have a full scale celebration in Lantzas. Enjoy yourself. Which reminds me, I have an announcement to make..."
Sir Darius Exiled (Knight of Lantzas)
"Lords and Ladies of Arcaea!" boomed the baron, his deep voice smothering the room in a wave of sound, "I am glad to see you all here today. I hope the drink is to your liking," he raised his tankard, "and that you find the food equally enjoyable!
"Today we celebrate two things. Firstly, we must be glad of the safe return of Lady Harmony to us from the clutches of that monster, Siegfried. Baron Goffrey appears to have survived his most recent brush with death, which is also a relief. All of us are surely thankful to whatever gods we hold dear. To Lady Harmony!" He emptied the contents of his tankard. A servant quickly refilled it, while the baron continued. "Secondly, on a perhaps more celebratory note, we should congratulate Sir Darius, my most splendid knight, on his excellent victory over those Aenilian dogs in their so called grand tourney! Thanks to him, it has been made clear that Arcaean steel is superior to any other. To Sir Darius!" Euran clapped his vassal on the shoulder, muttering, "On your feet, champion!" before knocking back his second drink of the evening.
After the cheering had died down, and the murmurs had been reduced to a less noticeable level, the baron of Lantzas continued. "Now, this is a feast, not a council chamber, so before I bore you all to death with my words, lets have some entertainment!" He clapped his hands, and a troupe of performers appeared from a side door.
"Esteemed Lords and Beauteous Ladies," announced the apparent leader of the band. While Euran's voice might have been able to cut through the chaos of a melee, it would never match this man for sheer showmanship. "I wish this evening to present to you a selection of the marvelous wonders and secret arts that myself and my associates have uncovered." His voice dropped to a suspenseful, confiding tone, and he swirled his black cape. "It is my duty to warn you that not all of the fascinating phenomenon displayed tonight are entirely safe." His voice rose once more, to announce the first act, "Lords and Ladies, I give you Illitheron the Impervious!"
A wiry looking man, with a goatee and a knowing smile, came to the front of the group. Behind him the other performers produced a variety of musical intruments; mainly percussion, but with a reed or two in sight. They continued to add to the atmosphere as the current focus of the act bowed to his noble audience. He produced four swords in turn, demonstrating their sharpness by slicing apart a series of melons thrown towards him. He then proceeded to swallow each of them in turn, accompanied by much tense drumming from the other members of the troupe, while slowly sinking to his knees. At length, another performer ran forwards, and began to carefully and strenuously remove the swords, as if pulling them from a stone. Finally the pair bowed, and a bed of nails was dragged into the performing area.
Euran was somewhat impressed by the man's sword swallowing act, but knew that he would never have trusted another enough to stick a blade down his throat! As Illitheron, with much aplomb and show of effort, began to lie down upon the bed of nails, the baron found himself more amazed by the second act. Surely the man must be in exquisite pain, and yet he showed not a flicker of discomfort on his face. There must be some trick to it, Euran decided, but for the life of him he could not see it.
Euran Yetisbane Kandurell Baron of Lantzas
Mar walked through the slowly darkening street, in one way admiring the views and sounds of the riverside and yet not seeing either with thoughts getting in the way.
The feast with many great and powerful people both familiar and unknown, the flashing sounds of joy, apprehension and excitement passing as if a blur. It had been little wonder of the need to take a short break to cool the mind in the outdoors.
Slowly, with many unnerving experiences, the words of many tutors in various lands were finally beginning to make sense, it was indeed harder to speak idly with great people then it was to gaze into the eyes of a foe.
Mar Crow Marshal of the Field of Honour
Ahem, Thalathafn cleared his throat and stood up from his seat.
"Sorry to interrupt the entertainment, but I would like to take this opportunity to announce the new Marshal of the Field of Honour. After discussion with the Council, we have decided to award the honour of leading our valiant army to Sir Mar Crow. Sir Darius will also take over second in command."
With that Thalathafn slips the golden ring from his finger.
"This Enchanted Band of Command was gifted to me by Lars Baldersson, who had found this unique item after a battle during the war with Sartania. I will now pass this on to our new Marshal Crow and hope that one day he may pass it onto his successor. Now I will let you all return to the entertainment."
Thalathafn gestured to the front, while taking his seat at the table near the back of the great hall. While all eyes peered forward in amusement, his own focused on the half empty plate on the table. He had nearly killed a young girl today, and for what? Honour? Til this day he had held honour in the highest regard, but until this day he had never had to kill in its name, at least not like this. The battlefields were different, they were soldiers, their faces only a blur in his memory. He had to turn away as she layed there dying. Those few seconds pervading his consciousness. Thalathafn threw back his drink as the feast continued around him.
Sir Thalathafn Urominiel General of Arcaea
"Lords and Ladies:
Forgive my tardiness. I had some things to attend to in Obtal. I hope the feast and entertainment have not yet ended. I was looking so forward to actually meeting the Lady Harmony, now that she is safe and sound. I also wished to personally congratulate Darius for his splendid performance at the tournament. As well as to congratulate Lord Mar on his new appointment. So much has happened in Arcaea recently, I don't know where to begin. Perhaps, it would be best to give my thanks to our gracious host Euran. I believe you owe me the pleasure of a tour of the healers center, now that I have more time to endulge in pleasantries. That can wait till much later though. Which way to the ale?"
Peter Outman Count of Obtal
"You're tipped for the Generalship, you know." muttered Euran as he rose to his feet, applauding. "This position is only the start."
"Congratulations Sir Mar! Sir Thalathafn has surely made an excellent choice; I believe that a third toast of the evening is in order. To Marshal Crow!"
The baron landed back in his seat with a thump and a groan. He kept forgetting how uncomfortable the carved wooden chair was. Dren had given it to him, when Euran had assumed the lordship of Lantzas. His cousin had said that it was a family heirloom, and too much hassle to be carrying around the countryside while preaching, but Euran had a sneaky suspicion that the High Priest had been rather glad to get rid of it. Of course, he could just choose not to sit on it, but if it was a family heirloom that would be somehow disrespectful; and after all, the carvings of longships and warriors were rather intricate and impressive.
The next act was a magician of some kind, claiming to have control over fire. He created various different colours of flame, even swallowing them, and as a finale the man walked across a short bed of coals. It was not a trick Euran intended to attempt to repeat. He had to admit, the act had been extremely convincing, almost enough to make you believe that there really were some strange powers at work. It was no use thinking about these things now of course; the baron quaffed another tankard of mead.
Lord Peter's entrance was enough to bring Euran out of his drink fueled daze. He stood up again, this time a sight more unsteadily than before, and announced, his words only slightly slurred, "Plenty of ale for everyone, Lord Peter! I'll forgive you the tardiness as long as you do some catching up. Servants! Fetch the Count of Obtal his ale!" This time the seat did not seem so uncomfortable, when he landed back in it.
Euran Yetisbane Kandurell Baron of Lantzas
