Briarwood Family/Gwendolyn/On the Road to Glory Again

Roleplay from Gwendolyn Briarwood

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Gwendolyn: On the Road to Glory Again

Amidst the rolling expanse of the countryside, Gwendolyn, riding upon a regal black steed called her unit to a brief halt, to allow the messenger rushing up to her to catch up. Her gaze remained fixed, piercing the horizon with an intensity unyielding. The wind ruffled her cloak, but not a strand of her raven hair dared to stray from its meticulous arrangement.

Gwendolyn reined her horse, eyes meeting breathless messenger as he approached. He extended a small bundle of letters. "Reports and Missives for m'lady," he gasps.

She reached out and took the bundle from the boy's hands, "Gratitude for thy haste, boy," she intones, gratitude veiled in enigmatic detachment.

In her gloved hand, she held the bundle, untying it and examining its contents, she picked out, a battle report detailing the prowess of the Heliacal. Her voice, devoid of sentiment, resonated with a hollow cadence as she spoke of the ruler's triumph over the beasts of Ciarin Tut. "By eventide, he shall have eradicated the beasts that slaughtered my men," her words emerged like carefully chiselled stone, firm and devoid of inflection.

A subtle exhale brushed past her lips, a sigh that carried no trace of emotion. She contemplated the emotions that a more prideful dame might experience—anger at denied vengeance, guilt for unavenged fallen comrades. But Gwendolyn, her visage an unyielding mask, acknowledged that she was unlike those knights and dames driven by pride, she felt nothing, like she always had.

Indifference dominated her thoughts. The beasts ravaging the realm would perish; that was the sole purpose she clung to now, for there were few other tasks for a knight to focus on with monsters abound. She deftly folded the parchment, its edges aligning perfectly, before presenting it to a waiting servant. "Put it away with the other missives," her directive was given with the same emotionless precision that marked her every utterance.

Behind her, a procession of men and women adorned in glistening gilded steel plate followed in disciplined formation. Their armour shimmered like a promise of unyielding resolve, while ornate glaives hung at their sides like silent sentinels. Gwendolyn's gaze traversed their ranks, alighting upon their leader, Captain Sevoria. A warrior hailing from Giask, Sevoria commanded the Sentinels of the Golden Palace—a name that resonated with both prestige and duty, though Gwendolyn had never heard of them before yesterday.

These warriors, supposed former city watch of Giask turned sellswords, had sought Gwendolyn upon hearing of her ascent to the position of Dame of the Golden Palace. The meeting had taken place on the outskirts of Askileon, and now they marched as a united force, flying the banner of Luria Nova, Giask and House Briarwood. Gwendolyn remarked quietly on the fortune that had delivered such valorous souls, contrasting it with the cowardice she had borne witness to among the Sallowtown Spearmen.

Elvira's image flickered across Gwendolyn's thoughts—a fleeting memory of another. But as quickly as it surfaced, she dismissed it with a detachment that mirrored her very essence. The question of Elvira's whereabouts was dismissed as irrelevant; Gwendolyn simply did not care, they had made their choice.

Her gaze shifted away from the horizon once again, focusing on Captain Sevoria. Her query hung in the air like a shard of crystal, clear and unambiguous. "How long until we reach Santoo?" The response was swift, Captain Sevoria raising her eyes to the sun's ascending glow. "We'll be there by sunset, my lady."

A curt nod acknowledged the answer, and Gwendolyn's attention drifted forward, toward the road that stretched ahead. "Good. We shall arrive in Orz with time to spare," she declared, her horse spurred into a steady gait as her retinue followed suit.

And as the sun climbed higher, its golden fingers touching the world around them, Gwendolyn rode forth—guided by purpose and driven by a singular focus, to cleanse the realm of Luria of every beast which sought its destruction, she promised nothing less to the Helical and she would give him nothing less.