Dubhaine Family/Ciarghuala/Roleplays/2021/August
| Dubhaine Family | |
| Fame | 40 |
| Wealth | 17575 |
| Home Region | Ashforth |
| Home World | East Continent |
1st August
Winter Evening
Margaretha of Arescod
Margaretha smiled at seeing Ciarghuala's enthousiasm for her idea. "That is true. Does that also mean that you're not able to participate in tournaments here?" She pursued. "Alternatively, what do you think about a practice duel right here?" She said, eyes flickering. She eyed the few other patricians around them, looking sour, and got the idea. "Or perhaps just outside, if these gentlemen allow us?"
In the meantime Anna was trying to get a hold of herself after she realised that Margaretha was too deeply invested in the conversation for her to make an appeal out of it. At least, a mute appeal, which so far did not work. Looking around, her only partners for conversation were Septinia, and perhaps Bruce.
"So, how did you end up on the seas?"
Heirut Ve Harvey
It has been many days, no maybe even two weeks that Heirut was in Shinnen and Shinnen Purlieus taking care of the hordes with the brave Leonid and Kenneth, repelling monsters and undead almost non-stop, sometimes a trickle and other times an army of them. However all of those efforts were boring, sure the fights were coming to their doorstep rather frequently but the amount of enemies were rather low and the time he had between each battle was rather boring and bland, he wanted adventure, risks and his own life at stake, being in the front lines with his men wasn't enough anymore, losing practice fights wasn't enough anymore he wanted to make something, to become someone and to be remembered for it. With that, he wrote a letter and dispatched messengers around the realm with a request of thrilling stories, items that may help him in his foolish quests and locations where he could truly shine.
3rd August
Winter Day
Ciarghuala Dubhaine
"I hate to decline but I'm not really dressed for duelling," Ciarghuala pantomimed a curtsy which effortlessly pinioned into a twirl, showing off the regal finery her station demanded at formal events such as this. However it appeared unlikely the froth of skirt and petticoats would do much to inhibit her movement or sword arm.
"Lady Emily would have m'lady's guts for garters," Septinia said sardonically and the two of them shared a knowing look which turned effortlessly to laughter.
"I did promise Em not to make a spectacle of myself, it's true," the Queen looked thoughtful for a moment, "yes probably crossing swords at a Temple inauguration would fall in that category. She was very particular about my not offending clergymen. Insistent in fact."
Pretty much everything the Queen knew about etiquette she'd learned from her cultured companion, and it had been a difficult education at times. Rough stone slowly smoothed by the constant relentless flow of sweet waters...
Ciarghuala's childhood in the wilderness had focused more on survival skills than polite manners and her brief years of formal schooling in independent Via had done little to tame her inner fire. There was a wildness in her spirit that made her all too familiar with the teachers' canes and as soon as she'd been old enough to bear arms she'd turned one of them on her tormentor and left for the Niselur frontier. For the life of a soldier.
From that day on she'd been a warrior. An amazon even. A rider of the First Edreun, a reaver on the Inner Sea, a hammer in the hands of successive Lurian Emperors. There was nothing intrinsically soft or feminine or nurturing in the Queen's nature. Nothing. The kind of daughter a mother might fear would die alone if that mother hadn't been just as hard and unyielding. Indeed if that mother hadn't been Moira of House Dubhaine, a legend across three continents, a daimon hunter, a spellsword, the progenitor of Queens and Generals and even an Empress. A name whispered amongst the nobility with equal parts shock and awe. In such a shadow even a sheer granite edifice like Ciarghuala looked somehow fragile and less fearsome.
And then she'd met Em. Glorious, wonderful, lighthearted Em. Lady Emily of a far-off, unpronounceable, unvisited land. A land beyond the rim of Batttlemastera, far across the inky sea of the High Firmament.
Two woman from different realities drawn together by... by fate? by chance? Ciarghuala was not much of a one for religion or faith, a dissenting agnostic for want of a better word. Certainly she knew her lore, of the moonbeam roads and the Flow, and the balance in which all life and death was measured. But never in her most fevered imaginings had she thought to be drawn into that web of otherworldly intrigues with which her House had so long been associated. No, Ciarghuala was a realist. She counted her successes in bushels stored, horrors slain, bairns raised by fat, jolly farmwives. The affairs of the Gods were not her concern, content as she was to see Luria prosper.
And then came Em. As tender as she herself was fierce, As beautiful as she was striking, as loving as she was dutiful. And in that chance encounter in the stews of Giask Ciarghuala's life had changed forever.
"But don't fret Margaretha, I'll be joining the dance card at this year's tournament as I have in previous years. I may be growing old and slow but there's plenty of fight left in this old tigress. It'll be just like the good old days when you were a lady of the North, before these soft Southerners tempted you into their company," the Queen grinned and there was obvious affection in her eyes. Few things delighted her as much as seeing here proteges fulfil their promise.
As the conversation deepened Septinia could see the young squire floundering, a fish out of water amongst so exalted a gathering. The girl would get used to it eventually. Well, probably. They didn't always.
"So, how did you end up on the seas?" the girl's voice had a slight tremble.
"Oh, the usual way... in a ship," the former Captain winked as she snorted with good humour, "No seriously, it's not a very exciting story. My da was a fisherman in Poryatu so I grew up on the water. That was back in the old days of the Hegemony. Good times. Before the West fell and the darkness crossed the Inner Sea."
A waiter passed by with a tray of goblets and Septinia deftly lifted one in each hand, passing one to Anna. "Cheers lass!" she half-drained hers in a single gulp.
"Er... cheers!" the girl replied, sipping nervously. It was good wine but she didn't want to get tipsy and make a fool of herself.
"Forgive me, I didn't mean to impose. I was a soldier and a sailor for many long years before I settled here in Shinnen to enjoy my ill-gotten coin, and I forget that not everyone is accustomed to that life."
"Oh no, I didn't mean to cause offence," the girl stammered, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment, "it's just well... you know?"
"The shock of mixing with the great and the good?"
"Yes," Anna offered meekly.
"Don't worry about it lass, all these fine Lords and Ladies bleed the same as you and me - and the real worthy ones a damn sight more," she drained the rest of her goblet and gestured to a waiter across the hall for a refill, "Have you been in battle yet?"
5th August
Winter Evening
Henrik Thrane
“Damn it all!” Henrik said through his teeth, throwing his blade to the side as he entered his chamber. He then tossed his large feathered cap on the bed, sat on its edge and wheezed as he began to manage the straps of his boots.
“Meeeoow...” Henrik raised his head, smiling to see the overweight tortoiseshell cat perched before him. “Ah the Lady Wynnifrid, how have we...” He was interrupted with another short “Meow”. His shoulders slumped and his smile disappeared. “Come now, how can you say such nasty things? I had tried but you see... what? Who?” Henrik pondered, visibly creating an excuse, “Otilio, right, well... we hit a uhh rough spell of weather you see. His prayers weren’t doing much of anything so we uhh tied him to the bow of course.” Henrik began to pull off his boots. “And well…’bout an hour or so of him shouting prayers closer to the water it cleared right up. How were we to know that the Tidemother would claim him? That’s just the uhh way thing are.” He paused awaiting approval.
Lady Wynnifrid just stared at him with her big round eyes. He motioned to pet her and she bolted towards her bowl and sat. “Ahhh I see...” Henrik huffed loudly as he rose from the end of the bed, “...That’s what you’re on about. Come to think of it…” He rubbed his fat fingers on his second chin, “I could do with a little something myself.”
6th August
Winter Evening
Ravenloft Gillotine
A Worrying Winter
The winters in Santoo are almost like a winter desert, trees that look almost petrified stand tall in the landscape covered by heavy snowfall. The spire itself make is almost imminence in the snow, as looking through the distance during snow fall can make it barely seeable with the white concreate that helps it blend in to the surroundings. Inside the spire itself nice and toasty thanks to the great work of now Ravenlofts steward and personal aid, Gundolf, his brilliance and engineering as some how made it possible with wood heat, to heat the entirety of the spire in the basement.
Upstairs in the 2nd room, Ravenloft sits with numerous paperwork and reports, but he looks quite nervous as he slams his fist to the round table. "Where is Bruce?!, It has been almost a week since his arrival into Santoo, and there are numerous reports of him from the commoners but WHERE IS HE?!" With a shout the servants that were serving him all flinch and slowly back away, scared of what might happen if they piss him off even more, but Gundolf walks to his side. "Sir please do no worry, the snow is probably what is keeping him at bay for now, travel through these lands are rough with the snow." Ravenloft turns to his aid and snaps back. "Don't you think I already know that?!, but he should be here by now, maybe he got kidnapped and no one has reported it yet.. or.. or.." Ravenloft seems to stare at his paperwork looking dreadful at the worst possible outcome before Gundolf places his hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry my lord, I will send out some guards to look for him, it shouldn't be more than a few days to get word back if he is so in danger, but please wait." Looking back to his aid Ravenloft nods and continues his paperwork.
Later that evening outside of the spire Gundolf and a few guards that are in heavy winter gear stand at the ready. "Guards, you are tasked for this special mission to retrieve Emperor Bruce and bring him to safety back to the spire, be warned that we have no idea where he currently is and might be possible in danger so prepare for the worst" The guards nods their head and slowly trench out in the white horizon to find the missing Emperor.
7th August
Winter Evening
Bruce Wilde
"Luminary Elias, should you not be celebrating your own promotion?" - Mandolyn asks with a light chuckle - "I already have plans for a celebration, so save all that praise for later. This toast should be dedicated to you! This temple is within your demesne, has been built by yourself, and you were the one to invite us all to come and host this event. Humility is a good personality trait to have, but you can afford to have a bit less tonight. So, before we begin, let us toast for the new Luminary of Sanguis Astroism, Margrave Elias Calder of Luria Nova, long may he serve the Three! And another one for the new Margrave of Shinnen, Luminary Elias Calder of Luria Nova, may he rule fairly over this city!"
Mandolyn raises his goblet, turns and looks at the guests around him, and takes a sip. Then, he slowly walks around the pool and positions himself between it and the mosaic on the wall.
"Starlight should soon seep into the room and be reflected onto this pool. Until then, how about we talk about the path our realm is going at the moment? There will be plenty of time to talk about the Three tonight, and I do not want to bore you even before we can watch their reflection. Suzerain Emperor Bruce, do you have any plans or changes for Luria Nova? Swordfell has been a trustworthy ally, but noone expects them to be at war anytime soon, and helping against monster hordes does not take an alliance. Astrum seems to have grown a little lately, and just a little push might get them to do something, and Westgard is right next to them and full of infidels. Just saying..."
The temple in Shinnen had undergone a huge chance since Bruce's last visit. Not much remained of the small shack where he had first signed up to join Sanguis Astroism. Instead, it had transformed into a splendid temple.
After exchanging various pleasantries with the local clerics and nobility, Bruce found himself in the company of Viscount Mandolyn and Margrave Elias, both prominent characters within the Church who congratulated each other for achieving such heights within the church's hierarchy.
Bruce eyed the pool with some interest as he remained in the company priests. He had, after all, constructed a similar pool for reflecting moonlight in Askileon Purlieus. He drifted away, reminiscing of his past as the Margrave of Askileon Purlieus that now seemed to be a lifetime ago. He remained lost in thought, until he heard his title accompanied with his name being called out and Bruce perked up.
"...Emperor Bruce, do you have any plans or changes for Luria Nova? Swordfell has been a trustworthy ally, but noone expects them to be at war anytime soon, and helping against monster hordes does not take an alliance. Astrum seems to have grown a little lately, and just a little push might get them to do something, and Westgard is right next to them and full of infidels. Just saying..."
"I did not come here to speak about the state of affairs, my good Viscount. As a matter of fact, I came here to get some respite from it and enjoy the festivities. Nevertheless, the Fellish are up to foolish things as per usual - Despite Luria Nova's effort to convince them to do otherwise. As long as the ghastly hordes keep coming, I expect little to change from their side. As for Astrum, well, in your role within the Church I am fairly certain that both you and Luminary Elias have better connections within Astrum than what I do, especially since Ambassador Terra Pryde has left active service."
Bruce paused for a brief moment and glanced at the pool, before he turned back to face Mandolyn;
"Perhaps you are interested in becoming an official ambassador of Luria Nova, with focus on the Astrumese-Lurian relationship? It seems like you have something in mind concerning Astrum and if you think it can benefit Luria, I am all ears. As for the rest, well, you will see soon enough. There are some plans in motion, but I can not really tell you much more now at the request of the involved parts. You if anyone can relate to that. Perhaps I could tell an ambassador more, but I will not promise anything. I believe that having you as an ambassador will benefit us greatly, and I would appreciate it if you gave it some serious thought. You can let me know in the coming days about your decision. For now, let us - or at least me - enjoy the festivities Margrave Elias has arranged."
8th August
Winter Day
Damien Guile
Outside a run down tavern in the seedier side of Askileon Purlieus, a heap of rubbish starts to shake unexpectedly. A nearby peasant woman who had come out to empty her chamberpot in the pre-dawn light shrieks and hurls her chamberpot at the suddenly revealed shock of white hair, its contents flying out rather gloriously and splattering the middle aged man who was crawling out of his blighted slumber.
"Well that's just f*ckin' rude..." he mutters as he stumbles off towards the nearest fountain, falling in to cleanse himself... regardless of the onlookers and mutterings of passersby.
Ravenloft Gillotine
Ravens
During the time of snow in Santoo, currently gently falling on the gentle hill tops and the sparse trees that stretch thought the swamp lands, inside the ivory spire, Sir Ravenloft sits on the 4th floor, his bedchamber and library, reading one of his many many books inside the heated interior. "Nevermore.. once a raven speak, may soon death follow in its wake.. nevermore.." From words spoken, Ravenloft closes the book gently and places it down on his side table before walking over to one of the many bookcases that fill the room. Reaching to one of large books in his collection and with a push, the sounds of gears turning and a click is hear before he reaches to the left most end of the case and slowly, with a heave opens up a new spiral staircase. "I hope the king is okay.. there still hasn't been no word of the units return or any reports.. if.. if he is hurt or in danger..."
Walking up the staircase, he briefly passes a entrance to another chamber in the spire, before continuing up to end end of the stair case, a not so decorative, but heave wooden latch is fessed between him and the outside. Multiple attempts are made before finally getting the hatch open due to the heavy amounts of snow fall, finishing the climb up Ravenloft sees what can only be describe as a alien world from the top of his tower. The swamp land that he calls his home has transformed into almost a new area with heavy banks of snow, creating what he can only called a sea of waves that are stagnate. the wind ever so gently flows through the landscape and the light snow fall only adding onto the scenery. Ravenloft slowly walks in the heavy snow, each step crunching and packing the snow underneath him as he gets to the edge of the tower, and looking forward into the expanse of his region. "Bruce... where are you.. show me something.. anything please..."
Walking along the top of the spire and with each step the crunching of snow, the coldness of the area nipping at his fingers and face, Ravenloft once he done a few circles makes his way back into the spire to warm up. "Nothing again.. when.. when will we find him.. spring maybe.. lying in the snow dead.. no, don't think those thoughts raven.. the king will be okay he must be okay." Walking back to the staircase, the snow has already started to pile up, but before he could walk down the wind starts to pick up as curiously and suddenly ravens start to flock past the spire. "Kah!, Kah!" The ravens kahing and rushing by him sparks his attention as he rushes to where the ravens start to fly off to in the distance before seeing a burst of light appear in the horizon as smoke suddenly rises up in the air. "King?!" With a expression of disbelief, the weather starts to take a turn for the worse as numerous dark clouds appear in the sky blocking out what little sunlight that was shining through as a dangerous snow storm approaches Santoo, with numerous more crows appearing forth. "Kah, Kah. KAH KAH"
Rushing down the stair case even forgetting to close it, into his room, Ravenloft sets to prepare a trek into he snowstorm to save what he thinks is the king sending him for help. "I am on my way... just.. stay alive please.." From getting dressed in his most heavies furs, he rounds up his personal guard and Gundolf and gets them gathered into the first floor. "Men, We are going to rescuse the king, I WILL NOT tolerate failure, you understand that?" the men has never seen Ravenloft look this serious but Gundolf raises his voice to him. "Sir there is a snow storm approaching this location, we will be caught in the blizzard, there is no telling if we can make it back at all" Looking to his aid, he doesnt even blink before responding. "I know that Gundolf but I do not care, recuing the king is top priority understand me? We will deal with it as we go" Just nodding Gundolf turns to face the door as his men and aid trek into the snowstorm with the location of the king in mind and a rescue attempt.
13th August
Spring Day
Ravenloft Gillotine
Archery in the Tournament
Avoiding most of the busyness of a noble at the tournament, Viscount Ravenloft makes his way to a unintended part of the grand city of Askileon to the outskirts to set up his own favorite past time, Archery. On the outskirts, Ravenloft and his aid Gundolf set up archery targets about 50 paces away as they get ready for their shots.
"So Gundolf, do you ever think archery will be a official practice in tournaments? its kind of weird that archery is not included in my eyes" Ravenloft begins the conversation as he fiddles with his long bow.
"Sir, if you wish to be disrespected by your piers then go ahead ask for it." Gundolf replies in a playful tone as he watches his lord get ready. "You do know what they say, archery is a cowards weapon, if the major nobility witnessed you practicing archery then you would be the laughing stock of Nova."
Lining up the shot, he responds in kind. "Wouldn't that make you a laughing stock as well Gundolf? oh the proud creator of the spire reduce to a pitiful laughing stock that he is the aid to the cloud Ravenloft how unfortune." Giggling a bit he slows his breathing down to just short breaths and with trained action, raises the long bow up in the air, and with one fluid motion, draws back the long bow while at the same time bringing the bow and arrow to face the target. Holding his breath until the last moment, the arrow suddenly launches from the bow as it makes its iconic sound, and as fast as the arrow launched the arrow hits its mark but not on the dot, it landed a bit higher than what Ravenloft wanted. "Tich, It landed high.. guess I still need some more practice"
Spring Evening
Ciarghuala Dubhaine
Archery in the Tournament
The Queen progressed through the crowds of revellers, arm-in arm with the enigmatic Lady Emily, the smart maroon doublet and white britches of her dress uniform matched by her companion's flowing chiffon gown and the delicate hand balancing a white parasol upon an unblemished shoulder. Spring in Askileon was warmer than in the northern provinces and every year the couple holidayed in the capital at this time, the grace & favour apartments of the Grand Panetier providing one of the most desirable addresses in the city.
Her Ladyship was want to praise Askileon in fulsome tones, comparing it favourably to cities of her own fabled homeland without irony. Ciarghuala longed to see such places with her own eyes. To sail the mighty river along whose banks her beloved mudlark was raised, and walk the streets of that bustling metropolis with its iron carriages and aerial barges. One day when the Empire no longer needed her she would set aside her quill and her sword and her mighty bow to travel the Moonspun Roads. One day...
The tournament was still some days off but already the ale tents were heaving with ruddy-faced burghers whilst merchants from across the continent were hawking their wares to money-wise housewives and easily gulled tourists. A medley of heraldic pennants decorated the roped-off private enclosure where the competitors' pavilions would be corralled and as they passed Ciarghuala could already see the retinues of several knights in occupancy.
15th August
Spring Evening
Mika
Overwhelmed with awe. Mika half aware of his surroundings studdles in ruts as he gapes wide mouthed at the imperial architecture spread throughout this city. Citizens eye his fulled thick beard and long oily hair with amusement. His dirty hand sown furs and leathers mark his profession as a woodsman. His worn scabbard and hilt, bow and arrows, and spear mark him as and adventurer.
"wow"
Ravenloft Gillotine
Walking back from the his little excursion, Lord Ravenloft ventures into the city itself. The young man walking to where the tournament will be held, as various people make way for him, his long cloak a very clear indicator to his prestige as the cloak resembles raven feathers trail behind him. Beside him his a almost wizard like appearance but not, featuring a gray pointy hat but the workings on modern clothing to the point to being experimental.
"So Gundolf, after our little outing where should we head? The royal palace? or how about the market for some materials to be shipped to Santoo?" talking to his aid with carefree expressions.
Speaking back in the same manner, "In all due respects my lord, we have toured the Royal Palace far to often, thanks to your friend the King, I think it is wise we see the market, so then you can give the king a gift of friendship." Retorted Gundolf smiling.
"Ah a gift to a friend such a wonderful idea, and I think I have a lovely idea to give him," not paying attention to where he is going he runs into a peasant ((mika)). "Oh, I didn't see you standing there, or more that you didn't see me walking, what's your name?" With both Ravenloft and Gundolf looking down on the man expecting a quick response.
16th August
Spring Evening
Théoden Doesire
Walking to the academy Théoden is overwhelmed by the crowds and the over enthusiastic fans around the streets. Glaring at the peasantry that comes too close Théoden thinks to himself "Why oh why did i decide to go the academy to do research. Stupid sports fans. Your productivity is going to drop and my accountants are going to have to put everything back together again!"
17th August
Spring Evening - Askileon
Kenneth Gotz
- Royal showing off
- You heard some people speaking about the show Royal Solomon Greybrook did to show his skill at the tournament. From what they tell, you figure that his swordfighting skill is around 90%: You just hope to avoid meeting him in battle—he seems to be a true master.
- Then they speak about the way he used his lance. You estimate his skill to be 10%: Nothing to be impressed at.
Kenneth leans over to his Squire and says, "That's just one of the many reasons he's called Solomon the Great." He pauses a moment, "Believe it or not, his diplomatic skills are even more fierce. I was lucky to serve him years ago, history will remember this one."