God Is On His Knees (IC/Still Accepting)

Discussion in 'THREAD ARCHIVES' started by GoodEveningClarice, Feb 8, 2015.

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  1. Welcome To The King's Court

    Status: Open/Accepting
    Roles Filled: 17/20

    The plot for this roleplay will be fairly loose in the beginning. The King is holding court in hopes of finding suitors for his two youngest daughters but is also intending to root out his enemies. Why might the King have enemies, you ask? Well, rumor has it that King is a practicing pagan, possibly a demon worshiper, and that both of his beautiful daughters have been involved in rituals of some variety The Kingdom is largely Catholic and thus many of the nobles may not be too keen on the idea of their King, so famous for his brutality in war, does not follow their God. The King will not stand for opposition nor plottings against him. He will burn his enemies from their holes like vipers and he will secure his bloodline in his daughters' marriages. Come to court, the invitation read, come to court and forget your troubles for the Summer.

    The guests began arriving the first week of summer. Their beds have been made up, their chambers swept and polished, and fine food has begun to be prepared. The King has yet to arrived at his magnificent palace as he is on his way home from a small campaign against an English presence on the Western born of Vanqland. He is due to arrive at any moment. With their knights and guardians at their sides, the Princesses have been told they are welcome and encouraged to socialize, especially with the unmarried nobles who have come to seek their hands. Maximus told them long ago they were free to choose their own husbands, so long as the pool is of his parameters. A funny thing for a King to say, considering he should have been carefully manipulating alliances, but Maximus is the first of his name. He is not concerned with who his daughters marry so much as he is concerned they marry quickly. His line is not a long one and he would not see his brothers’ children on his hard won throne.

    The palace is decorated with sweet smelling flowers and with subtle finery here and there. Fine drapery in black and gold and deep purple, the King’s personal colors. Heavy silver and braided tapestries on the walls. There is wealth in the palace but it is careful. Maximus was a clever man and he would not be accused a tyrant by draping his home is gold and gems.

    There is a distinct lack of religious icons or statuettes. No gentle Mary to watch over his guests or a somber crucifixion to hang above them. Instead, incense burned and the atmosphere was cast in flickering candle light. There was a reverent mood but, to what?

    You are either a guest of the King or a resident of the palace. These dark, sensual airs are either commonplace or something else entirely.


    Illia seemed at home with the strange, dark mood of the palace. She was pale as the moon and her violet-blue eyes offset the royal purple that was used in the flowers and some of the fabrics. She wore black and watched the grand room from a perch beside the throne. She had lived most of her life in this palace with Maximus’ daughters for playmates and visiting nobles as first loves. She smoothed back her dark tresses and offered a clever smile to any who looked her way. Normally she would be roaming the room to lay on charm or draw out slips of information. But tonight belonged to the Princesses as she would not distract from their beauty.

    Musicians began to play a fast paced dance song to encouraged couples to flock to the center of the room. Illia did not move, and instead watched.
    #1 GoodEveningClarice, Feb 8, 2015
    Last edited: Feb 22, 2015
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  2. Lilith Monroe Fairway, a nineteen year old female with long curly brown hair, stood near the door to the outside. She was greeting people as they came in with a small smile and a 'Hello', hopefully they'd mistake her for a peasant or something. But that was unlikely, everyone knew the faces of the royal family, so it was no use. Everyone bowed their heads and always said thank you, which was quite kind. She wore a black and white dress, that went all the way down to her feet, and - Secretly - No shoes. Shoes were very unnecessary for her, so she never took the time to put any on unless the dress rose above her feet. The Candles shined brightly, but dimly at the same time. It allowed you to see, but people couldn't properly see their partners specific creatures unless they looked closely. The moon rose steadily as the night passed by, more guests coming in to either take her, or her sisters hand; Or for something much more sinister and dark.

    As the last of the guests arrived, she walked towards the butlers handing out drinks. She took one and drank it quickly, hoping that if she were to be drunk, it would make the night pass much quicker.

    Hazel eyes looked around for someone to speak with, having been alone since the beginning of the court. A soft sigh escaped her plum pink lips as she began to walk around, her bare feet pattered against the cold and somewhat dirty floor. The semi-distant conversations flowed into her ears in hopes of learning some new secrets, but to her dismay, no luck.

    A nice, fast song finally came on, causing a small smile to form onto her lips. She giggled and ran to the dance floor, doing a small dance by herself whilst other couples began to dance around her. It seemed as if she were a lone wolf, not wanting to be bothered as it looked for its prey. Lilith's arms flailed about as her feet and hips slowly moved from side to side. She acted as if she were actually dancing with someone, an imaginary friend, as people may assume. Her head slowly shook as she began to get down, as if her soul had fled into the song and became one. This was quite normal for the young princess, always being foolish and never obeyed the rules. Of course, it was never profound nor stated for her to have a partner.

    Many tried to talk to her, but her mind did not process their words. She was too focused in dancing, and ignoring others. Maybe if someone caught her eye, would she then talk to another soul. "Oh~ Illia!" She spoke out loud as her eyes caught sight of her friend. She smiled and walked over to the other, resting her hand on the others shoulder. "Why don't you go dance, dear? It's very fun. Plus, I'm sure there's someone interested in talking and getting to know you." She spoke kindly, an easy smile reaching her ears. Her dimples were visible, but never had she noticed that she had Dimples.

    Just talking to Illia kept her mind busy. Okay, so maybe she liked looking at some of the men and women here and there, but not because of their Appearance.. No, honestly that never attracted her. She just liked to see the smile on everyone's faces, they seemed so happy.. Most of them, at least. Now, their smiles just kind of gave them off as very sweet, nice, and innocent people. But obviously that was quite the lie, not that she truly knew, but it was just an assumption.
    #2 Hermit, Feb 8, 2015
    Last edited by a moderator: Feb 9, 2015
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  3. Stepping out into the grand chamber where the jubilations were being held, Robert grasped the handle of his sword tightly as it sat ready in its sheath. These kinds of events set him on edge. The falsities lurking behind everyone's smiles, the brutal game of intrigue those of noble birth loved to play, the ignorance of the crowd as they danced and laughed away their privileges while others beyond the walls starved. However, it wasn't the blissfully ignorant failures of the crowd that set Robert on edge the most. After all, he'd become used to it in his year serving in the King's Guard. It was the potential for assassination attempts that worried him the most. There was no way to tell which direction it would come from in this breeding ground of social and mortal danger. Circulating the edge of the room, Robert analysed every guest that he could with a ruthless vindication. Their clothes, their demeanours, their dialect - all was up for scrutiny.

    As the party got into full swing, Robert became more of an ornament than an entity within the scene. He stood in the shadows of the room and merely observed as the wine flowed and the music blared. He could see his fellow Knights positioned in other areas of the room. It was a strategic layout: two guards to watch the empty throne while the rest played the adjunctive detectives. As if from the nowhere, the tempo of the music stepped up a notch and the guests flooded the floor. It was a popular tune in the Kingdom of Vanqland, one Robert enjoyed playing in his off-duty hours. His fingers began to move independently of his brain as they hit the chords of his imaginary lute. It must have looked strange, a Knight clad in armour twitching his fingers around like something was on his mind but he had found himself swept up in the ambience. Thankfully, he found a saving grace before the Captain of the Guard caught him as the Princess Lilith piqued his interest. He'd never paid much attention to the personalities of the royals before. It was his job to protect them, not get involved with their private affairs, yet there she stood - dancing alone to a lively melody with a partner as invisible as the lute which he had been playing in his mind not a moment past. Watching with a furrowed brow, he observed as she gently swayed her hips and shuffled her feet. It was a nice sight and a smile grew on his face because of it, replacing the previous scowl. Her routine was a rare slight of innocence in the sea of trickery and intrigue. However, before long she became distracted and hurried off to the courtesan Illia's side. The tempo slowed to its original pace and a melody Robert couldn't remember began to fade into audio. He returned to his watchful duty, scanning the crowd and awaiting the King's return.
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  4. Áleifr Jusse-Salmund Alvarsson, legendary warrior from the near mythical land of Svealand and Captain of the Royal Guard, looked out at the dancing nobles and courtesans who had been invited by his current contractor, King Maximus Fairway of Vanqland. Just as it had when he'd been appointed as the Captain of the Royal Guard, the multitude of colors worn by Vanqland's nobility dazzled him. From the sun-yellow garments worn by some of the kingdom's southern lords and ladies to the black and white dress worn by Princess Lilith Monroe Fairway, the clash of colors was fairly distracting.

    The fact that the swirling mass of leeches was distracting was also distracting. Ever since his father had been killed by Kjell Jakobsson and the revenge he'd exacted on Jakobsson and his pitiful band of mercenaries, Áleifr had worked hard to build a reputation befitting that of a "barbarian" warrior from the forested north lands of Sweden. In that goal he'd been extremely successful. Since his exile he'd fought under the banners of numerous men ranging from lowly, but wealthy counts to the King of Poland. He and his loyal band of mercenaries, the Sagdjur Ravens, had cultivated a reputation of brutality and mercilessness. It was not uncommon, especially since he'd contracted with Fairway, to hear of the Ravens butchering prisoners and burning down entire villages, friendly or otherwise.

    Since he'd been appointed Captain of the Royal Guard, though, his environment had transformed completely. No longer was he surrounded by warriors drunk off their asses on ale who sang, offkey, to old folk songs they'd been taught by their grandparents. No longer was he surrounded by the smell of blood and the sounds of battle; swords clashing with steel shields, arrows flinging by overhead. No. Now he was surrounded by scheming nobles who thought they could assassinate the king and take the throne for themselves. Now he was surrounded by thick, stone walls and standing in a room that was far too ornate for his tastes.

    Such a transformation had been a taxing experience for the Guntish warrior. More than once had he leapt into bed with his faithful wife, Brynja, and cursed out the men and women he was tasked with protecting the king from. Their viciousness was not of the kind he was used to and he didn't like it. Having to constantly watch his back, with only a few loyal knights to back him up, made him feel strangely naked and he definitely did not like that.

    Looking back out into the swirling mass, Áleifr kept his eyes on Lilith Fairway. Since the king and the eldest princess, Sarah-Diana Fairway, had yet to arrive, he had been tasked with keeping her safe and he was intent on doing his job correc-

    Áleifr's eyes swept toward one of the knights standing along the wall. The young man, Robert Bowman was his name, was, ever so slightly, drumming his fingers on his armor. While the sound wasn't audible over the din of crappy music and panting, overheated nobles, it was visibly distracting. He'd have to have a word with the young knight after the party ended and the leeches slithered back to their holes. He didn't tolerate unprefessionality while on the job and a suitable punishment was in order.
    #4 Zeebo, Feb 9, 2015
    Last edited: Feb 9, 2015
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  5. "Remember, your job is to ensure the safety of the King."

    Alys stood in the corner of the room, arms folded across her chest. She kept her eye on everyone he entered, prepared to attack at any moment. However, she was not dressed in her full armor, so she was less intimidating. She actually looked rather beautiful without all her armor own, and she wasn't scowling for once. She noticed a couple of the younger men look at her, and she snorted. She was aware she was fairly attractive, but she did not like any attention she got. Besides, there was no room for a man in her life.

    Alys decided a walk around the grand chamber would do her some good. Besides, it would give her a better view on everyone there. Alys noticed the Princess dancing, and she chuckled. She never really talked much to the royals besides the rare "Hello" and "How are you?". Lilith seemed like a nice girl, but she never really had the time to talk to her. Alys noticed Robert staring at Lilith, and she walked over to him, and elbowed him. "She is pretty graceful, isn't she?" She said with a teasing tone. Most men had their eyes set on Lilith, and she didn't blame them in the slightest. She was a princess after all.

    After she was done teasing Robert, she returned to her duties. She couldn't fool around too much. She loosened her gauntlets a little, they were getting rather tight. Or maybe it was just her nerves causing her tighter-fit armor to bother her. Something about this put her own edge. Then again, anything social did.

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  6. After all this time, she had been so foolish as to expect that she might actually grow to enjoy one of these formal gatherings. She conditioned herself to think that the constant squeeze of her dresses as they constricted her already slight frame would just fade away and that, magically, she would begin to understand what constituted small talk and what was actually a bona fide amateur discussion of philosophy. Needless to say, the young baroness always had to toe a line in public. If she bowed out of too many discussions of the Catholic faith, brows would be raised in her direction and remain arched all through the night. This suspicion was not helped by her visible hesitation whenever a strapping gentleman of a suitor offered her his hand during a particularly upbeat dance. She could only play it off as bookish shyness so many times in an evening, and she took great pains to affix her eyes to whomever was leading her through the motions, even if her attention would otherwise be caught by the swirling fabric of the ornate dresses around her.

    Regardless, she was here for the express purpose of presenting herself as an ally of the King. More than likely, once that was revealed, people would be more sure of how to treat her. Since ascending to the rank of baroness, Anya had been notably ambivalent in her dealings with the monarch, never withholding crops, but also never giving his couriers so warm a reception nor lavishing him with gifts so that he would extend a private invitation to his palace. She hoped to make the first steps towards establishing a rapport with King Maximus well within the view of the sycophants and the renegades he had summoned. But that wasn't to say that she wanted all eyes on her at all times, by any stretch of the imagination. For the time being, she was content to mill. She found that if she stood in one place in the room for too long, the incense that hung heavy in the air began to sting her eyes and wrap its odious tendrils around her throat, making it hard to breathe, so she kept up a steady pace, bobbing between light conversation and moving skillfully between and around both singles and couples populating the floor.

    Some familiar faces occupied the other corner of the room, which only seemed to get farther and farther away from her the more she gracefully twirled and tripped her way past the warm bodies of strangers that lined her path. Princess Lillith was always the easiest to find in a crowd. Even if she was nowhere in sight, every passing glance in her direction would be a fair indicator of her approximate location. She was a beautiful girl, no doubt, but it was her energy that everyone noticed first. And, as to be expected, she was far from alone. Every knight in the room seemed to angle themselves, ever so slightly, towards her. Since the king was nowhere to be seen and Sarah-Diana had not made her grand entrance yet, she was their top priority. The surprising fact in all of this was that, when Anya finally managed to glance over, Lilith was not alone. Usually, the princess took as much pleasure in dancing on her own as she would in holding conversations with the nobles around her. She stood with Illia, and the two seemed to be embroiled in discussion of a halfway pleasant topic. Seeing no better option for the time being, she made up her mind.

    Approaching the youngest heir to the throne and the courtesan, Anya gathered the folds of her dress to prevent herself from tripping as she curtsied. "Milady," she uttered with a note of respect, directing her bow towards the princess and offering a courteous smirk to Illia, whose rank always seemed a mystery to her. It was one thing to be a baroness and to know your place, but courtesans appeared to have a throne of their very own, and Illia, especially, was an interesting case of the complicated webs woven within the palaces that dotted Vanqland. "How is this soiree treating the both of you?" she tried her best to suppress a cough rising in her chest, brought on by that accursed incense, "I imagine you must be lucky to have even a moment of respite with so many young suitors around, just waiting to take any unwitting woman for a spin on the floor."

    Surely, that was not too far over the line of chatting among acquaintances, she muttered to herself with a wry smirk.
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  7. "She is pretty graceful, isn't she?" a voice said from beside Robert. He felt a dull pain as he received a swift elbow to the ribs following the comment. Turning, he saw Alys with a pleased smile on her face, obviously proud of her jest. His cheeks turned crimson at the mere suggestion of the idea that he was leering over her in any way. Shuffling his shoulder slightly in his awkwardness (and part in trying to remedy the impact of the blow), he let out an embarrassed chuckle.

    "I was more appreciative of her moves," Robert said in a jocular, yet explanatory, tone, still fumbling over his words slightly, "I mean it takes some work to dance with an invisible man like that. Imagine trying not to step on his toes!" He gave Alys a coy smile. His jest-shaped distraction had clearly worked as she moved on shortly after to resume her duties. Speaking of which, he had to attend to the same task. Peering across the room, he noticed the Captain scowling at him and a shiver crawled it's way down his spine. The look in the Captain's eyes was enough of an indicator that trouble was going to be brought Robert's way post the event's conclusion. As much as he was dreading the inevitable, cowering in fear of it wasn't going to save anybody - he still had a job to do. Heading in the opposite direction of Alys he shuffled by one of the grand pillars that supported the hall's roof and slid past the chattering nobles that had set up nest there. He was in sight of the entryway by the point and the guests just seemed to keep piling in. There was still no sign of the King or Princess Sarah-Diana, though.

    Robert clasped at his sword in the hilt and maneuvered his way back towards the Captain. As much as he may have regretted the move later, it was odd for the King to be so fashionably late and the Princess's delay was even more queer. Skirting around the edges of the grand chamber so as not to hinder the jubilations, he made his way finally to Aleifr's side. On approach, he bowed his head and held his fist over his heart, a militaristic courtesy of respect.

    "Sir, when can we expect the arrival of the King and the Princess?" he asked inquisitively, sitting ready to dodge a punch from the Captain at a moment's notice for his earlier negligence.
  8. Hazel eyes turned towards the female, whose name was.. Anya? It was quite uncertain "Ah, hello Miss Anya~." She curtsied, an easy smile forming on her lips. "It's been quite swell. There are suitors out there that are looking at you, my dear. You're quite a sight to the eyes." She truthfully said. Lilith wasn't exactly sure what her preference in gender was, but it had been quite obvious that she could love both a man, or a woman.

    Her sister and father hadn't shown up yet, causing a small arising tint of worry to set in her lower abdomen. It wasn't unlikely for this to happen, but due to them being Royalty and kin to Maximus, they all have enemies. Since she didn't want to ruin her night, worrying over relatives that hardly got along with her anymore, she decided to just let it go for a little while so she could have some fun. Her gaze traveled around as she slowly made her way towards the door, noting that all of the guards were now busy. Lilith planned on coming back inside once she had some fresh air, which wouldn't take too long.

    With that thought on her mind, she slipped outside, a small shiver trailing up her body from the soft wind blowing cold air onto her warm skin. She let out a soft, incoherent giggle before beginning to run, jump, and twirl on the grass just outside the hall in which the palace had been holding a 'Ball'. Outside, it had become dark, the moon rising above her head. "Ahh~ The fresh air. So nice." Lilith was exaggerating, as usual. But it was indeed very nice to be outside, if she were to be inside a room with so many people, she'd loose her mind. After a few minutes of just running around, she finally sat down, not caring if her dress got dirty or not. Her eyes turned up to look at the sky, the stars and moon very pretty. It had always been that way since she was a child, her love for the stars. Except most nights she didn't get to see it very often, once done with her duties, she was off to bed. Being a princess was honestly quite tiring, but that didn't mean she disliked it. Even after Nineteen years, she still hadn't gotten used to living in royalty.

    As a child, Lilith believed herself to be a regular little girl, having always ran off from her parents to go explore. Hell, one time she got lost in the Kingdom due to just wandering around in the middle of the night. Luckily someone helped her find her way, and once she got home, boy was she in trouble. It wasn't from her father- So to say, it was more like.. From her 'Servant' Kaiti, a nice old women who had practically been her second mother and instructor. From a wee child, to now, she had been rebellious and idiotic. She didn't know where she got it from, maybe from her Father, Mother, or some other distant relative that Lilith was never told. In her family, it was almost like everyday, it was Show And Tell. Someone would tell, but never told the truth.

    After what seemed like forever, she finally ventured back inside. Her dress had somehow not gotten ruffled and dirty, but her hair was a bit of a mess. But Lilith just held her head high and walked around, not exactly sure what to do. Her decisions had never been made for her, but right now, it seemed quite hard to think of an idea.
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  9. Elric Massur, #088A08 He hated parties. The dancing, the music, the drinks always seemed to put him in a bad mood. Though, maybe 'hate' and 'always' weren't exactly spot-on truth. Elric hadn't been out to a large event since Nyrida's passing and he felt completely out of place. Her spontaneous attitude and graceful dancing had always been his source of entertainment and would always coax him out of his shell. He would laugh, dance with his bride, and be the happiest man in the world. But now at Court, he felt alone and cold.

    His faithful adviser, a portly old man with a need to express his unneeded opinion, had insisted that Elric present himself at Court to take the hand of a princess (preferably) but any fine woman would do:

    "Pinefell is getting restless, my Lord Duke. They have waited patiently for almost two decades and they have gained nothing. Your death will cause chaos amongst the Pines if your seat is not ready to be claimed. Go to Court and seek the King's daughters. They would do quite well here in the forest. Of course, you have the right to choose so as long as you come back to us with a girl on your arm, Pinefell will be grateful."

    Nonsense, it was. All of it. Court was not as beautiful of a place as the last time he had been there. It felt dark, cold, and unwanting. The gorgeous glow of the lights had dimmed and the green in the leaves faded. No longer was it a place of mystery and intrigue. It was where you went to put your soul to rest instead of setting it free. Granted, Pinefell had also lost its luster. Everything had lost its luster since Elric had lost his bride. He had spent his days, weeks, months, and years grieving for her, and still the darkness remained. Here it choked and crippled him.

    He stood against the wall, the glass of wine in his hand remained untouched. His long, dark tresses were tied neatly at the nape of his neck and a dark green dress-suit of Pinefell adorned his tall, thick figure. Elric's dark orbs remained staring at the floor, not wishing to look up again. He had previously let his guard down and looked at the dance-floor to see Nyrida dancing, her bright red hair shining in the lights. She lit up the room and Elric had almost stepped out to meet her before she stopped and he was forced to realize that it was not love but the youngest princess.

    She was a beautiful girl, but he couldn't bring himself to think of her as his future wife. He had never spoken to the princess, yet she reminded him so much of his previous bride that it broke his fragile heart into crumbs. He was pleased that she had yet to notice him, afraid of what he might or might not do in her presence. It would insult her if he failed to speak and in turn, that would insult the King. No, it was better if she stayed away no matter how familiar she seemed to him.

    As a slow tune began to play from the band, Elric turned from his position and made his way to the corridor to the right of the ballroom. He had to get away from the music and had no desire to step outside. Instead he walked and found himself infront of a grand portrait of the King himself. He was a strong man in confidence, but if Elric was being honest, he looked rather weak physically. Body-size didn't matter, though, when it came to skill and intellect. They had had the pleasure of meeting once before, years ago at Elric's wedding. He was a proper man, that much was clear as day. But the Duke couldn't shake the feeling that there was something strange about him. The portrait had cast a shadow over the King's eyes and he felt as though he was being watched, judged, and executed right on the spot. He took all he could stand from the picture, selling it as paranoia and depression and turned on his heel to return to the ballroom. He had had enough for one evening and hoped it would be over sooner rather than later.
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  10. Áleifr continued to glare at the younger Bowman. He'd heard, both from his immediate subordinates and from the general talk around the castle guard, that the young knight was a loyal man of the crown. Áleifr's limited interactions with the young man supported the rumors. He was polite and deferential to his superiors, but had an independent streak that Áleifr could appreciate. Of course, that could be a double edged-sword. Independent warriors tended to be reckless and naive. He'd seen a lot of independent warriors die because they rushed out too far in front of the shield wall or battle line without the support of their fellow warriors.

    Another knight approached Bowman and lightly elbowed him. Áleifr recognized her as Alys. She, like Bowman, was one of the more loyal knights comprising the castle guard. Standing at a little under one favn, he'd witnessed her swordsmanship while overseeing the training of the castle knights during a surprise inspection. She was skilled and had done surprisingly well in the battle royale tournament he'd held the next day. Her movements were fluid and she seemed to be particularly adept at taking control of a combat situation.

    After a few brief moments, the female knight walked off and Bowman turned in the opposite direction and slunk toward one of the massive pillars supporting the hall. The look on his face once he neared the Procession Corridor where the King was supposed to arrive told Áleifr everything. The young man was nervous. Like Áleifr, he was wondering where the King was and what was taking him so long. While the King had been known to be late to his own functions, something felt off to Áleifr. It was as if a dark pall was descending upon the party.

    Pushing the somewhat worrying feeling into a distant corner of mind, Áleifr noticed the young Bowman walking toward him, his hand tightly grasping the hilt of his sheathed sword. The knight bowed his head and snapped his fist over his chest. The sign of respect had confused Áleifr the first time he'd seen it when he was fighting against that maniac king, Ivar Ulfriksson, before his exile. There was no equivalent within his mercenary band and he quite liked it. It established who was in charge and who to look out for. After all, a man who was respected by a dozen warriors was far more dangerous than one who led a hundred and wasn't respected.

    Bowman slightly tensed before opening his mouth. "Sir, when can we expect the arrival of the King and the Princess?"

    Áleifr ignored the knight and continued searching for Lilith Fairway. The flighty princess had momentarily disappeared and that concerned Áleifr. From the stories he'd heard from the castle staff, the young woman was a handful and had made a habit of slipping away from the castle. During her youth, apparently, she'd regularly run off to the nearby towns and play with the local children. She really was a handful and he didn't like it. Not only did it place her in danger, but it also made his job of protecting the Princess that much harder.

    Silently cursing the almost-nymph, Áleifr turned his attention back to Robert Bowman. On any other day he would have taken the young man into an empty corridor and beaten the living hell out of him, but with the King and Princess Sarah-Diana not yet making an appearance and Princess Lilith doing God-knows-what, he didn't have the time or energy to deal with Bowman right then.

    Áleifr clasped his hands behind his back and glared at the young knight. "That is none of your concern, Robert Bowman. The King and his daughter will arrive when they so desire to. Your job is not to wonder where they are or what they are doing." He poked the young man in the chest. "Your job, knightlette, is to stand alongside the walls and look like the guardian warrior you are supposed to be. Your job is to watch over Princess Lilith until the King arrives and protect her should the leeches who have attended this party get any bright ideas about holding the young lady hostage." A wicked grin replaced the grimace on Áleifr's face. "Do that and I might consider you for promotion. Fail to do so and you'll see a level of wrath not seen since God struck down Sodom and Gomorrah."

    Satisfied, Áleifr turned away from Bowman and started towards the throne before stopping and pivoting back towards the young man. "Oh, and Robert, tell that Alys that she'd better find a wall to stand near. My wife, Brynja the Shieldmaiden, has been lamenting the lack of fighting recently and has been bugging me to find her a worthy opponent. While I have no use for such needless violence, she'd have no qualms with hacking both Alys and you apart. You see, she recently got a new ax and is itching to try it out. Let's hope it isn't you that it receives its baptism in."
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  11. Robert Bowman, Orange

    Robert awaited the Captain's response although the Captain didn't seem interested in giving one. His eyes evaded Robert's and began to eagerly scan the room. A scowl grew across Aleifr's face as his attention turned fully back to the young Knight.

    "That is none of your concern, Robert Bowman. The King and his daughter will arrive when they so desire to. Your job is not to wonder where they are or what they are doing," he lectured before jabbing his finger into Robert's chest, causing him flinch slightly. Of course, that wouldn't be the end of it. It never was. In his time serving under the Captain, Robert had become acclimatized to grand lectures bustling with anecdotes from other places and times. It was the Captain's staple, something he had become known for. Before Robert could continue his thoughts on the matter, the Captain resumed along his tirade. As he appeared to have finished, he began to move away before spinning back once more to drag Alys into the scenario. Robert was annoyed. He was being talked down to and lectured like a small child all for showing concern for the man he swore to protect. He couldn't process the concept. However, he also knew that was the Captain's way so , gritting his teeth, he lowly echoed the words 'yes, sir' before bowing out as he had done in, a frown upon his face.

    Heading out into the crowd, Robert slid his way past the nobility, hoping to find Alys. The plan was to find her and warn of the Captain's ire and oncoming fury however he couldn't see her for the gallivanting guests who danced around the room as if they were on hallucinogenics. He span to check the entrance only to see Princess Lillith stood alone, her hair slightly more messy than it had previously been and her expression quite docile and lost. At least she's safe... Robert thanked in his head, letting a sigh of relief escape his lips. He made his way over to her quickly.

    "Where have you been? You've gotten Aleifr's blood boiling..." he explained. He had forgotten who he was talking to, his mind still being largely occupied with the lecturing he had just endured, so when he remembered his face turned the same shade of crimson as before. "I mean, my Lady." He crumpled at the hips as he gave an apologetic bow, tucking his forearm at his lower abdomen as a show of respect. He remained lowered, awaiting either an offended shriek or a godsend of an apology. This day couldn't get any worse...
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  12. Lilith Fairway, yellow
    Barely hearing a word of anyone else, a stern yet frantic voice appeared within her head- Wait, it wasn't inside her head. Lilith had looked so lost, her gaze had been traveling at every peak, corner, and all of the guests. Her gaze turned towards a young male, looking not that much older than herself. That smile that was so easy to rise had arrived, her eyes twinkled. "No need to apologize, good sir. Your name is.. Robert right? I should be the one apologizing for my own actions that got you into trouble." She curtsied, feeling quite pitiful towards the seemingly young knight. Lilith made him stand up straight before leaning in slightly, lips brushing against his forehead as if she were trying to soothe a baby with a simple kiss. She then patted his head, muttering a soft 'Good-Bye' before walking towards Áleifr, reaching the older male in seconds. Her heads reached her hips, a small, devilish smile came upon her lips. "Well it's nice to see that you're teaching your men to be in their places. But you should know that it's more my fault of running off and getting hurt more than an actual person taking me. So, would you please go apologize to that young man?" She asks a bit too sweetly, her eyes fluttering just a bit. Lilith, at times, liked to mess with others. Rebellious blood ran through her, so she wasn't always nice.

    Once again she was bored, having left the older man to fume off by himself. She had decided that since she hadn't really... Tried, to find someone to court her throughout the night, Lilith would do it now. She grazed over the crowd, unsure to begin talking to. Finally after a couple of seconds, her bare feet tattered against the cold floor as she walked towards a woman whom had brought her child. The woman Bowes her head respectably and Lilith only giggled. The young child was maybe six or seven, his name was Zane and he was quite the grumpy child. They had spoken only a few times, and she always had tried to be nice male could possibly open up to her and smile, that would be a beautiful sight for her to see.

    It had seemed that smiling was just another treasure within the darkened life that had been consumed in their minds, causing what used to be such a loyal, happy life darken almost instantly.

    Her hand reached over, softly grabbing Zane's very small hand before pulling him closer. She looked down at him and smiled before beginning to move, dancing with the beat of the music. A small twitch could be seen on the brunette's head, causing Lilith to feel just a teeny bit proud of herself. The two began to dance the night away, the young boy laughed every so often. This was who she was, most of the time. She could be stern, or hell, if she was angered enough, she'd through the first punch.

    "Hey Zane? Do you want to go play?" She kneeled down, her knees planted onto the floor as she whispered into the little boys ears, it seemed to cause him to brighten up just a bit more, agreeing with it. Sometimes it wasn't fun to go to these things as a child, and she completely understood due to being a royal.

    Lilith and Zane began to play the 'Princess and the Dragon', but of course they weren't close to people so they wouldn't hurt anyone. Man, she was so childish.
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  13. Elizabeth crossed her legs, tucking a strand of her dark hair behind her ear as she finished reading over the letter to her son and ex-lover. Folding the letter, she poured the green wax onto the paper before stamping her family's crest into it. Motioning for her maid, she said, "Make sure this gets to my cousin in Paris. Tell the page he is not to stop for any reason. This letter is of high importance." The maid nodded before quickly exiting the room without question as to why her mistress had not gone down to the party below or why she wasn't even ready. Elizabeth had decided that she would get ready on her own tonight. She figured she would arrive just before the king did, say hello to his grace, then go back to her chambers. Parties weren't her thing and especially since she considered herself to be married. How could she explain to Elijah-

    Stopping her train of thoughts, the young woman reminded herself that it was her duty as a woman to marry and produce an heir for her husband's line. She stood from her seat at her desk and made her way to her trunk at the edge of the bed. It was amusing to her that she had been at court for close to six months and had never unpacked. She only wondered when she would return to the rolling hills and glorious mountains of her youth. It had been far too long since she had seen her family and the mines that gave them their wealth. Putting her hand on her hip, she leaned down looking through her dresses, knowing none of them were exactly right for the event tonight. For her, it didn't seem fitting to wear her family's colors. It was true that she was the only one in attendance, so why should she? Where were her brothers anyway? Elizabeth couldn't answer that question and it brought her back to her youth. Letting out a huff, she grabbed a green and gold dress. It was something that she had worn many a time at the French court. What she loved about the dress wasn't the fact that it symbolized her family, but that it was laced in gold. After her union with Elijah, they had formed their own house. No one knew of this but the people in attendance of their small unofficial ceremony, but gold along with green was the symbol of their house. She only wished she could share it with the world.

    Elizabeth quickly changed and went out into the hallway. When she saw no guards or any soul in sight, it eased her to know that she would have a few moments alone before having to deal with the snobbish nobles of the south. It wasn't that she didn't like them, but if she had to see anymore bright colors, well it would be the death of her. The walk from her room to the ballroom was a lengthy one, but it gave her time to think. It gave her time to think over her words and how she would have to deal with men for the rest of the night. When she finally made it to the ballroom, the page asked for her name to announce her arrival, but she quickly shook her head, deciding against it. She didn't want to be known as the girl who arrived late. When one of the servants passed with a tray of wine, she grabbed two, downing them within seconds. Looking around the room, she smiled a little, happy to see the princess having fun.
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  14. “Announcing King Maximus Fairway, Lord of House Fairway, Sovereign of all of Vanquland, First of His Name!”

    The servant bowed deep and dodged to the side of the grand doors. For a moment, there was no movement and all was silent. No music, no chatter, just the hum of low breathing and a few coughs. Then though, all at once, the doors were pushed open by several soldiers in their dress armor and Maximus appeared. Dressed in his famous black armor, a crown of silver and deep purple stones on his brow and atop a massive black warhorse, the King had quite a presence as he walked his mount across the grand room, causing several nobles to dodge out of the beast’s way. This was not the most alarming thing the King had ever done. His Knights and Áleifr would hardly find this out of the ordinary as those who had been beside the rash but clever man in battle. Pulling his horse up beside his throne, he surveyed the room for a moment then offered a broad, handsome grin. “Why on earth has the music stopped?” And just like that the room returned to noise and many a hushed whisper. He dismounted the horse and lifted his chin, gesturing at Áleifr to meet him at the throne.

    One of the servants lead his horse out of the back entrance before the animal made a mess while Maximus took a seat, sighing in relief at the comfort of it. He’d need to remove his armor soon, he knew, and the bastard sword at his side would certainly begin to make people uncomfortable. He knew that, of course, but for the moment he sat still and accepted a heavy goblet of dark wine. Upon close inspection, there was dried blood flaking on the King’s throat and dirt under his nails. The battle with a small time English Lord had hardly been a challenge, but in his haste to return in time for Court he had neglected a bath. He nursed his wine and considered not saying a word, but something in him made him stand. Perhaps his mother’s voice in his ear, perhaps Illia’s stern look at him, either way he climbed to his feet and smiled.

    “Ladies, Lord, Barons and Baronesses, Counts and Countesses and fair citizens of every title, let me first offer my sincerest apologies for my tardiness. Our enemy has been soundly defeated and their commander returned home to their dingy island in a pine box.” He waited for cheers and drunken attempts at Vanqland’s war song to be quelled. “I thank you all and welcome you to my home and the center of our land. Vanqland thrives, our enemies flee at the sight our men’s black armor while Summer burns on. We gather to celebrate that and to celebrate my beautiful daughters.” He looked around the room, noting his eldest was no where to be seen, and spotting Lillith on the floor with some serving boy. His jaw tightened lightly. He was hardly a prime example of courtly etiquette, but he’d earned his eccentric tendencies. His dark eyes pinned her, sternly but his smile remained in tact. “Please, enjoy all that has been provided. I am here to entertain any who can stand my presence,” A few laughs. “And eagerly look forward to spending the Summer with each of you.” He dipped his head and settled back into his throne.

    “He made no mention of our Lord’s protection.”

    “Nor did our King thank God for our prosperity!”

    Maximus smiled blandly and pretended not to notice the small pockets of whispering nobles, instead draining his goblet and accepting the next. Illia approached with a small basin of water and a clean cloth, which Maximus accepted and quickly used to mop his face and hands clean.

    “My clothes are prepared?” He patted the girl’s pale hand, eyes never leaving the crowd. Illia nodded sharply and stepped away from him to ensure the servants had readied a change of clothes for the King. Maximus would slip away as soon as he saw an opportunity, but he needed to speak to his Knight Commander first, and hopefully get a moment alone with his waifish daughter.

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  15. Bjarke 'Grey Wolf' Keln rode on his horse, a black warm blood. He had on his wolf fur cloak, it covered his back and fell on his horses back as well. He wore his shoulder plate and his sword on his back. He had a small dagger resting on his belt and he rested his left hand on it, with his right hand on the reins. He moved at a casual pace as did the men behind him, most walking with a few on horses. They all wore full armor as well. The lot of them were heading to the Nacht's Reach, a great stronghold built to last out the long winters and govern the North. Being that the last winter should have arrived 16 years ago it'd be prudent for the leaders of each Northern House to meet there and discuss.

    "Maryn," Bjarke shouted back into the ranks over his shoulder. A skinny young man with a bow and quiver on his back rode up on a brown horse and trotted alongside Bjarke. The boy was an incredible archer, with short black hair and thin wisps of hair on his face.

    "Morning Grey Wolf," The archer said nodding his head and smiling at the man, "Called me up for a chat?"

    "Merely called on you to make sure you werent fucking your horse again," Bjarke said with a laugh, "When we reach the stronghold I want you to make sure all our men stay well fed. They are to be in good health, and as for the whores I expect them to have whoever they like whilst we are in town."

    "Aye, I cant ensure they'll stay sober but I can ensure that they fuck whoever they like." Maryn said with a laugh, "Do you think we will have a war this time? That we'll take up arms against the King? Or do you think the others call only for us to prepare for the long winter?"

    "I do not know," Bjarke said calmly looking at his friend as the town around Nacht's Reach came into view, "But I know that the second after we end negotiations I'll be in that damn brothel finding the finest whore I can mount."

    The pair laughed as they rode into town. The men behind Bjarke dispersed and those on horseback rode close to Bjarke and Maryn. Any on horseback were leaders of the group, men who deserved and commanded respect. All rode up to the Nacht's Reach and led their horses to the stables within them. Bjarke dismounted his horse and tied it to a post inside the stables. He tucked his cloak tighter around him and approached the main hall of the castle. He and his men strode inside and he saw a vassal of the lord moving out to meet him. The man was plump with small arms, nothing too threatening. Bjarke brushed past him and spoke strongly and loud.

    "Where is my sister? And her lord?" Bjarke said looking to the man as his men moved about the receiving hall and gawked at things. Many had not seen this place before. The plump man walked closer to Bjarke and spoke to him softly.

    "The Lord Joral Hoster, he is no longer with us. He had an accident while training, it took his life within the hour." The man said leaning close to Bjarke. Bjarke leaned close to the man and spoke to him in a soft voice as well.

    "I'm sorry to hear it, who else knows?" Bjarke said putting his hand on the mans shoulder.

    "All in the Nacht's Reach know of it my Lord." The man said in a surprised voice.

    "Then why do you speak as if its a secret?" Bjarke said his voice raised, "I care not for Joral Hoster's death, I merely wish to see my sister. So if we are done with the eulogy to the late Lord Hoster then I expect to see her now."

    The man nodded and took him through the castle to his sister's sewing room, Bjarke threw open the door and walked inside. He saw his sister sitting in the light sewing a tapestry, he smiled at her. He threw his arms up and took a few small steps toward her waiting on her to rush into his arms.
    #15 HellHoundWoof, Feb 21, 2015
    Last edited: Jun 13, 2015
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  16. Arren's patience was unrivaled as he stood to the right of the King's throne.

    His hands clasped together at his stomach, which was barely visible through his red cape. He watched the crowd with keen eyes - noting small details. He silently kept track of each person's intake of wine. He was very familiar with dealing with drunkards and brutes who took several too many drinks. The crowd's attention was drawn to the king as he made his entrance.

    Whispers of the King's apathy for the Lord's blessing reached Arrens Ears, but he paid them no heed. Aye, he'd heard the rumors of the King's paganism, but he didn't care. The king had personally shown Arren the he was capable of caring for his kingdom.

    As the king went to his throne, Arren knelt, bowing his head. "My Liege." He said, and returned to his upright position.

    Arren's eyes wandered to Princess Lilith, as she played with a small child on the floor. No one seemed to mind, but part of him felt that it was slightly inappropriate for a young woman of her stature to be doing so. The other part of him appreciated that she was not an arrogant brat. She often played with the children in the cities and villages of her father's holdings.

    Her actions made it hectic for her guards. Arren knew first hand what it was like to attempt to follow her and protect her. He'd been assigned as her guard before.
    #16 SheriffLlama, Feb 22, 2015
    Last edited: Feb 22, 2015
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  17. Rikhen Stormar moved with speed heading to the King's Throne room, he was late. He had never been late before. He was worried that his King may be angry with him for being late. His armor clinked as he moved quickly to the throne room and he entered through a side door with his white cloak flowing behind him as he moved quickly. His helmet was under his left hand and his sword on his left hip. His hair was pushed back and he took his place beside his brothers and sisters of the kings guard. He looked towards the Knight Commander and bowed his head.

    "I am sorry for my absence my lord, I was otherwise occupied." Rikhen said calmly in an apologetic tone. Thought Rikhen was insanely loyal he couldnt have helped his tardiness. He looked towards the king and noticed blood on his neck, the man was a warrior. And any warrior would have fled from him in a battle field.
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  18. In. Out. In. Out. The needle pierced the fabric, following an intricate line that she designed. The thread went in and out like a snake, moving up and down and all around. Any where she chose. It was amazing how one thread impacted the entire fabric of the tapestry. One wrong stitch and the whole work was flawed. And yet the thread was ended so quickly. A simple snip of her shears and it's usefulness ended.
    I was also amazing how similar it was to a person's life. It could also be ended quickly, with just as little effort...

    The door opened and the Lady set her needle aside carefully before turning to see who was disturbing her.
    The face the looked back at her was familiar, yet greatly changed. But she still recognized it as if she had seen him every day.
    "Bjarke," she murmured. She rose slowly at first, trying to maintain the poise of her station, but once she saw his open arms and his smile she couldn't stop herself from running to him. As she wrapped her arms around him and enjoyed his embrace, she realized she was shaking a bit. Serah had forgotten what it was like to have someone she trusted completely, someone she knew cared about her for the simple reason that she was blood and not his Lady or employer.
    "Thank God..." she murmured against the rock wall of his chest.

    Many times she had thanked God for her older brother. Had thanked God for giving him to her and for him having a heart that was honorable and did not blame her for the sins committed against him in the past. Since her own mother had passed and their father did not much care for grown children that had already completed their only use, Bjarke was all that she had now. Funny how she never considered her husband a part of her heart as Bjarke was.
    Her late husband...

    Serah pulled back and tried to compose herself, when she really wanted to hold on to her brother for longer, to somehow have his strength pass into her. "I am happy you arrived here safely," she said. "You must be famished from the road."
    Going to the door, she opened it enough to call to a nearby serving girl and give orders that her brother was to be brought food and drink at once.
    Then she turned back into the room and gestured to the comfortable chairs near the hearth. "I suppose you were informed already of the passing of my husband," she said, wondering what he would make of it.
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  19. Bjarke smiled watching his little sister rise keeping her composure, he knew it was coming. And so it did, she rushed into him and hugged him. He laughed and held her against him, family was always a good thing for him, reminded him of what reason he had to fight off any who challenged him. He felt her shake a bit in his arms and realized how traumatic being married off to some man she hardly knew could have been for her, that and being surrounded by men who were once loyal to that man who was now dead. When she pulled back and fixed her gown he smiled down at her, she had changed. Her face appeared more womanly, less like the child he had left. He put his hands on her shoulders and looked at her with the warm smile of a brother being reunited with his little sister.

    "Gods be good, you've changed. I have missed you little sister." He said as she moved to the door and called out to a servant to bring food and refreshment, he chuckled at his sisters concern. She turned back to Bjarke and gestured to the chairs near the hearth of the room that she had previously occupied. Bjarke removed his sword from his back and set it against the edge of the hearth, he wrapped its straps around the scabbard and sat down in one of the chairs. It was more comfort than he had enjoyed since his he left the Clad's Keep that long week ago.

    "Aye I heard the pompous cunt was felled to a training accident. No way to die for a man." Bjarke said sitting relaxed in his seat, "I do believe that such an accident is very uncommon. No servant of high blood would challenge him with a sharpened sword, so I must ask. Sweet little sister, was the late Lord Hoster's death an accident?"
  20. Bellamy stared at the men across the table from him, his mouth slightly ajar. Had he heard them correctly? No, no, it wasn't possible. This was not how his family would go down, hell, they had only been nobility for five generations. Running his hand over his face, he asked, "Is there any way-" What was he even saying? He couldn't possibly reason with them, could he? If his family lost everything because of some stupid thing Francis did, well then, they needed to re-write the laws of being a noble. Resting his chin in his hand, he asked, "Has my brother lost his head yet?" His voice came out defeated and he was silently praying that his youngest brother had lost his head. How could he go back on a marriage with one of the most prominent families in the Holy Roman Empire? Bellamy had already warned his brother of how crazy his future wife was, why could his siblings never listen? First, Elizabeth sleeps with a servant, second, John marries a French bitch, and third, Francis leaves his fiancee.

    "No, my lord, he has not. I don't believe they will cut off his head...But they do wish to-"

    Bellamy rolled his eyes, nodding in understanding, "They wish to start a war and completely destroy my family because the pompous idiot couldn't get his wife pregnant with more children? Yeah, I got that." Standing from his seat, he asked, "Where is my brother now?"

    "Well we heard he was on his way to see Elizabeth, something about a child? None of us were aware that Elizabeth even was married, much less had a child." Bellamy looked at the aging man across from him, his eyes widening in alarm. How had Francis found out? Surely Charlie hadn't said anything, well of course Charlie had said something. Their cousin couldn't keep his mouth shut for anything. He would be the one to flaunt being the reason a war was started. Chuckling, Bellamy shook his head, "Elizabeth? Having a child? I'm sure my brother just got his information wrong. On another note, please tell my idiot brother's ex-fiancee that we wish to avoid war and we give our sincerest apologies. There are many other suitable Clayburn men and I'm sure any of them would be happy to marry a woman of her status."

    "Of course, my lord." The three men, including the page, all rose from their seats, nodding their head in respect to Bellamy before exiting the room. Bellamy sunk back down in his seat, hanging his head low as he let out a long breath. He knew he needed to go to the capital and talk to Francis, along with his sister.

    Within an hour, Bellamy set out on the long journey to the capital. He figured he'd stop by Nacht's Reach on his way as a way to offer his condolences to Lady Clad on the loss of her husband. He was also hopeful he'd run into John there, when was the last time he had seen his niece and nephew after all? Wouldn't they be missing their favorite uncle?
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