God Is On His Knees (IC/Still Accepting)

[Ko T'suno]

It was the dim light of the earley morning that had managed to slip through the thin light green curtains that adorned her windows that caused her to wake from her sedimentary slumber, but it was the rhythmic knocking on her door that gave her reason to get up. Three quick knocks ment Tristan was up, it being followed by two slower knocks each accompanied by a single soft tap ment He had been up for at least two hours.

A soft curse rolled off her tongue aa she rolled out of bed. Her joints popping as she stretched out, a good surprise considering last night's events.
She had barely enough time to get dressed in her armour and strap her arsenal of knives on to her thighs and hips. When a loud single knock came from her door. It was time to go.
"Ready." She heard through the door.
"Almost..." She replied as she hurriedly threw on her cloak and walked to the door.

"Ready now." Was what she was greeted with when she opened her door. "Yes." Was all she said as she stepped out her room. Arrlen moving out of the way before walking into the room she had just left.

"Sleep well Arrlen" She said softly as the door shut behind her. "No escape from the day now." She sighed as she seemingly floated to Tristan's door down the hall.
The sounds of mock combat bouncing off the walls as she opened the door.

The sight of a barely clothed Tristan darting across the room his arm outstretched as he attempted to punch the cloaked figure across from him. Who Maehel could only guess was Sypher from the agile inward roll he performed coupled with the quick take down of Tristan. Who coughed as he was slammed into the carpet, a wide grin on his youthful face.

"Maehel!! Your awake glad to see you up and about." Tristan sounded out as he struggled to get out of Sypher's grasp. Who held Tristan's wriggling half dressed frame down by his neck with one hand.

"Maehel grab his clothing and help me get him dressed..."
Sypher commanded. His tone sounding more amused then the solid protests from Tristan.
Who claimed the clothing was to heavy for the impending heat he swore was to come.

"Come now can't be that heavy..or that warm today."
She exchanged as she walked past Sypher who still held Tristan to the floor. Her stride taking her to a shirt that had been thrown at least a dozen times.
"It is a tad heavy..." She said with a blink as she pondered at it's unnatural weight. Its thick fabric had wook as a lining and it was then that it dawned on her.
"This is a winter shirt.." She muttered under her breath befor turning around to see that Tristan had somehow escaped from Sypher's grasp and was now running away from him.
"Tristan! Find something to wear, we can hardly afford the Echil to see you in such a state. Can we, we are late?" Maehel commanded her scolding tone was quite motherly. So much so that when she turned back around from returning the shirt to the back of a chair.

There was Tristan huffin and puffin in as he was once again caught by Sypher who had him by the wrist. "Put on your training gear then."

"Fine, I will just let go before you bruise my wrist." Tristan's voice rang with defeat.

"Finally. " Was all Sypher said as he let go of Tristan. Who's face was twisted into a pout as he sluggishly moved to the closet and grabbed out his light training attire.

"How long did that fight go on for" Maehel asked Sypher as they turned their backs to the now striping Tristan.
"Almost an hour and a half."
Sypher replied as he looked back to make sure Tristan was indeed putting on clothingy.
Satisfied he turned back to Maehel.
"How did you sleep?"
"Acceptable, you?"
"Didn't."
"Done, can we please leave now?" Tristan interrupted as he grabbed his cloak and swords and walked out. Maehel and Sypher in tow.

"Going barefoot are we Tristan?" Maehel asked with a light chuckle as she noticed his state of shoes or the lacking of.

"Yup.." Was all Tristan said as he latched his swords to his hips and his cloak to his shoulders.

"Hmm..." He sounded again before bolting down the stairs.
Leaving Maehel running after him. Looking back as she bounded down the stairs she expected to see Sypher. But was taken aback a little when she saw the hall was empty.

"Where in the hell." She spat as she ran after Tristan who had gained a fair amount of distance. She knew where he was going, and as she turned the corner she slide to a stop and within seconds was laughing on the floor.
She had caught up to Tristan who was hanging from the back of his shirt, limbs all dead like a kitten. By none other then Sypher who without saying a word droped Tristan and walked towards the training field.
The entire way they said nothing except for Maehel who let out a chuckle every so often. Tell finally by the time they reached the training field. All three of them were laughing.

Sounds of training rang in their ears. It wasn't tell they were right on the field that Tristan threw up his arms.
"Robert, there you are, where is Arren and everyone?" He asked tilting his head to the side.
"You look worn out, been practicing without us have you?" He whined in a mocked pout.
"Morning Robert." Maehel added as she pulled one of Tristan's arms down to his side. The other arm fell as she did.
"Greetings Echil." Was all Sypher had to say as he walked off to sit under a patch of shade. His tone was neutral to the ear, but his walking away might of came off a tad rude.

 

[VengefulPeanut]

-Robert Bowman, Knight of the Kings Guard-

Hearing a chorus of greetings from behind him, Robert span around on his heel to face the newcomers. Looking beyond Tristan's party confirmed that Arren and the other knights were indeed missing. A small sigh escaped his lips and he shoulders slouched slightly.

"Welcome to the training grounds," he bade politefully with a bow, despite the let-down. "I'm not certain on Arren's location but the rest of the Knights may join us at a later date. The king only summoned them from the Summer House recently so they may still be travelling." He strolled over to one of the training weapon racks, mounting the blade he had been training with and pulling out two wooden training staffs. One, he offered to Tristan, the other he kept in his right hand, resting it against his shoulder. "Ah well, no time like the present, though, eh? Would you care to duel with me, Duke Tristan? Or would you like to warm up first?" Robert asked with a confident and teasing smile on his face.

 

[Ko T'suno]

"Something the matter Robert?" Maehel asked after noticing his sigh and his shoulders drop in a seemingly disappointed fashion.

"Welcome to the training grounds, I'm not certain on Arren's location but the rest of the Knights may join us at a later date. The king only summoned them from the Summer House recently so they may still be travelling."

"Oh. Well their loss then." He said with a shrug, his eyes watching Robert as he brought over a set of training staffs. Tristan happily took the one handed to him and stabbed it into the ground before taking off his cloak and twin swords, to which he handed to Maehel.
"Ah well, no time like the present, though, eh? Would you care to duel with me, Duke Tristan? Or would you like to warm up first?" His smile caught both Maehel and Tristan off guard for a moment before the two remembered what they were going.

"No need for a warm up, hes already had an hour and a half long warm up... haven't you Tria." Maehel teased as she walked off to join Sypher.
Leaving Tristan there with a look that bordered embarrassment and anger.

"Yea but that doesn't count..does it?" He asked turning to Robert. "Any who, of course I'll duel you. It's the main reason we are here, no?" He asked with the staff resting in the nook of his left arm. His left side towards Robert.
The stance looking very open to attack, from every angle but his back but it might of been a trap.

 

[GoodEveningClarice]

Evelyn snorted at his comment on loyalty. "That's precisely the reason father is calling in these other knights. They will not be bribed. Or at least I know Dame Hallan won't. But again, treat me well and she'll let you through." She coughed when the next question came, feeling something like heartburn spread through her chest. Marriage? So soon to bring up such a topic! Did the Northerners not learn courtly romance? She couldn't help but smile at his boldness, but neglected to address that question until they out of the castle and walking towards the stables. It was a lovely day and man of the visiting Lord and Ladies were out and about, admiring the horses or walking the gardens.

The princess sighed happily and thought on what he'd said. "To be honest Francis, my father would probably reject you if he could. But I have the power to choose my husband. He and I have the same questions about you, I'm sure. You're a third son with no inheritance, you've neglected any responsibility you could have taken on and you already have a failed engagement in your repertoire." She gestured at the groom, who hurried to ready Evelyn's fine dapple mare and whatever horse Francis had brought with him. "I think you're very charming and handsome." She admitted as she climbed up on her horse. "But I can't help but wonder why you would want to marry me in the first place. You don't even want to be a Lord. Why would you want to be King?" She walked her horse towards the woods with him, noting that a couple of guards were trailing them. Standard procedure, of course.

She glanced back over her shoulder at him. "I'm very much afraid you're going to break my heart." She smiled after she said it, but it was a genuine concern and a very ladylike thing to express.

 

[SheriffLlama]

Arren woke up to rays of sunlight that peaked in through his curtain. He rose from his bed, sliding his bare feet to the floor. He dressed his bed and turned to his dresser, which he opened to draw out a simple tunic. He slid the tunic over his torso, then pulled open a drawer on the bottom of the cabinet, from which he drew a chain-mail battle shirt. Had he been dressing for war, he would've also clad himself in armor. However, they were merely dueling, not fighting to the death.

He pulled his red cape from a hook on his wall, binding it around his neck. He glanced to the mirror on the wall, his lip slightly curling at the scar that could be seen on the ridge of his neck. Had he been bare-chested, it could be seen that he bore the scar from his neck to the bottom of his right shoulder blade. He gave up trying to cover the white ridge with his cape, and picked up his sword belt. He reached under his cloak and slid the belt around his waist, buckling it with the sword and sheath on his left hip.

As Arren opened the door to the hallway, he almost ran into a young servant girl - Nala, he believed her name was. She was maybe fifteen; with a pretty face, which bore an apologetic smile. "Pardon me, Sir Arren."

"Worry not, Child." He said, allowing her to pass by. He journeyed down the hallway, towards a side entrance to the castle. He entered the training yard and was met with the sight and sound of swordplay and other practicing.

His eyes landed on Robert, who stood aside Tristan, Sir Maehel, and Lord Sypher. He saw they were all fitted to duel, which Arren bore no complaints to.

He glanced ever so quickly at Maehel, sizing her up since he could see her clearly in the morning sun. She was a bit taller than he'd realized the night before, but he was still larger and stronger than she, even still. The one thing that cautioned him was that he'd not yet seen her handle a blade yet, so he had no idea how well she fought.

He glanced over Lord Sypher - he seemed like a man of few words, which meant they would probably get along decently. He seems stoic and reverent, two more things Arren respected.

The knight approached the four of them, bowing his head to Tristan and Sypher. "Good morning, Duke Tristan, Lord Sypher." He turned his head to Maehel, nodding. "Sir Maehel."

 

[Ko T'suno]

Tilki mumbled to himself as he woke up. There was a bunch of commotion going on, and for why he did not know. Curious, he got out of bed his thin frame spotted with red memorials of the previous night. He looked around his halve asleep halve confused expression erupting into a fairly loud. "WHERE ARE MY CLOTHES!!! I just had them last night..do you two know?" He asked the sleeping lumps in his bed..but no responce came. "Fine..." He huffed as he grabed a red sarong and wrapped it around his hips just high enough not to be exposing himself, yet low enough to potentially get him in trouble. But at the moment he cared enough to grab a blanket and throw it over his shoulders. "Tuli, Kuli find my clothing we are leaving today!" His voice loud enough this time to cause the two foxes to jump up and look at him. Both annoyed he had woken them up. "No breakfast tell my clothes are found." He finished before walking out of his room.

"Whats going on?" He asked a male servent who told him about the death of Sereh's servant.
"An assassination attempt...." He asked before stalking down the hall around a few corners and stoped when he saw Yrd and a large group of others. "Is it true?" He asked through a deep yawn as he rubbed his left eye.

 

[Hell Hound Woof]

Bjarke put an arm around his sister as she embraced him, his other hand still holding his sword. He was shocked that this had been allowed to happen. He heard his sister crying over the death of the little girl, Bjarke did not know her and felt no such grief for her death. He thanked the gods for their gift of her life in exchange for his sisters but he could not cry for one he did not love. As the others entered the room Serah made an effort to compose herself, her face retained no emotion. Bjarke smirked a bit but held it back, his sister really was a Clad.

After Serah finished speaking Bjarke agreed to her terms, taking her away from here would be a smart idea. Once the situation in her chambers had been handled and the men had gone about their ways Bjarke found Ÿrd and Maryn. He commanded Ÿrd to find a group of 10 men to stay in the Nacht's Reach. Some men who were, politically minded. They would govern in his sisters stead, and she would come to court with Bjarke. Ÿrd agreed and went to do so quickly. Bjarke commanded Maryn to bring him his clothes and armor, once he returned Bjarke began dressing while walking. Bjarke followed his sister's path to the council chamber and watched as she dispensed her ruling over the men that had betrayed her. When she had finished Bjarke noticed she was somewhat exhausted looking, no doubt the events of the morning had given her a start.

"Grey Wolf, perhaps I should fetch her some wine, to calm the nerves," Maryn said whispering over Bjarke's shoulder, "I know you do not wish for her to be in pain."

"Aye, be quick about it." Bjarke said turning and patting Maryn on the shoulder. He walked to his sister and saw a servant carrying a missive. He watched as the servant announced the seal on the letter was the kings. Bjarke grumbled something about spoiled southern shits but stopped when he saw his sister grow worse. He put his arm out as she reached for him. He grabbed the letter from his sisters hands kept his arm out in the event she fainted. As he read his normal grimace turned to one of annoyance.

'To the honorable Hygar Lorn, Steward of Nacht's Reach and the family of Serah Hoster,

Thank you greatly for entrusting the hand of the Lady Serah into my hands. It is with much gratitude and joy that I have searched for a worthy husband to the young widow. Through careful thought and council, I have decided that, being a widower of noble birth myself, that the Lady and I would have a happy union. Though my daughter Evelyn will inherit my Kingdom, an heir produced between the Lady Serah and myself would be a proud ruler for Nacht's Reach and a worthy man or woman of Vanqland of pure Vanqan breeding with ties to both North and South. I invite the Lady Serah and her guardians to join me in the capital for court. Should it please the Lady, I would be happy to host our union in the palace this very summer once arrangements have been struck between the Lady's family and myself. I have no need of a dowry and instead seek only the Lady's hand, her wisdom for my daughters, and any love she can muster for me. I write with earnest and greatly anticipate the arrival of the remaining Northern nobility and the Lady Serah into my home.

With love and deepest humility,

King Maximus Fairway, First of His Name, Sovereign of Vanqland'
​

Bjarke looked at his sister. First her handmaiden was killed, now she was forced to marry a southerner. Bjarke knew he could not dispuite the union but he could certainly make sure his sister was happy while married to Maximus Fairway. He knew there was not time to hold a council meeting for it so he simply wrapped his arm around his sister and called forth one of her servants.

"See that my sister is ready to travel, bring her a carriage and a cloak." Bjarke said entrusting his sister's care to the woman, "Sister, I must prepare my men we are all leaving as soon as possible. We have been delayed from court for far too long, we can discuss this matter when we are on the road. Until then it will have to wait."

Bjarke watched as Maryn came back down the hall towards the pair.

"Maryn, stay with my sister. See that she is taken care of. And keep her safe, I do not know how deep the roots of the stewards treachery are." Bjarke walked off and found Ÿrd addressing a small portion of the Pack. Bjarke looked over them, two were very large, he saw an older gentleman with a beard and no hair on his head. One had a bow and quiver with long brown hair. They seemed like they could survive up here, and command cleverly. Bjarke nodded and explained their situation to them, they could reign how they chose but only so long as the people of the Nacht's Reach were happy and they did not let the castle slip into chaos. Bjarke and the rest of his men were saddling up and preparing their horses. He found his horse in the Nacht's reach stables and put its saddle on, strapping it on firmly. ​

 

[Tanstin]

Garlen Mattowick​

Garlen stepped into the king's inner court, a grandiose place that he had not seen for the first time, and not for the last. He looked up to Maximus, flanked by a row of guards clad in steel, sitting in a chair. It wasn't particularly hard to notice there was a unassuming air in the room, nor was he in the best of moods, nevertheless the Houndmaster bowed and began, quickly, and businesslike.

"It is a pleasure to speak with you again, Maximus, how goes your endeavors in paganism, eh?"

He chuckled lightly, making sure that it was a joke. he glanced out of an open window that let in a pleasant albeit uncanny breeze. His smile faded and the air grew seemed to tense around him.

"Ah, Perhaps you've seen it coming, or maybe you have no clue of what I speak of, but nevertheless.. issues all around your kingdom have arisen, many of them share in common a disparity in public order and the populace. They are, Ah..numerous albeit minor. Your influence is beginning to waver amongst the people, your laws begin to hold less sway amongst common and noble folk alike..."

"Am I wrong to suggest that it may be because of the recent upbringing of rumors in your walls?" He paused for a moment, but began again before he could answer.

"I understand you have no time to deal with mere peasant's banter, but such a thing is a rallying force indeed, and your recent inaction has begun to reaffirm it. I myself have been a target of rumors, rumors of which have plagued my reputation to this day. Rumors of which distill unrest across Vanqland, the growing concern in Pinecliff is proof enough."

He looked at Maximus reverently but firmly, and continued, slowly, as if counting each word.

"I can understand that it is not of a king to stoop to lowly matters, But I of all people am not one to come all the way here to speak of problems without offering a solution, One of which we can both benefit from."

He proceeded to pull out a worn document folded neatly in the side of his belt, upon closer inspection the letter bore a tiny stains of what appeared to be dried blood.

"I've taken the liberty to investigate a little on the side, 'information gathering' if you would prefer...You see, all men keep secrets, and there is indeed a way to find them. The hard part is finding the way."

Within the document, it listed proof of foul play, embezzlement, transgressions and unassuming agreements behind closed doors of various noble houses and individuals drawing on a relatively comprehensive network of sources.

"Not all of these men have done what they have directly out of recent unrest, and I suppose you may have the question...'How can I trust you, Baron?'.. and a very wise question it is...I was never born into the black grime of what you call politics nowadays, nor was I ever raised as one, my father was a woodsman and my mother was lost to the plague back at their little cottage in England. I have worked for my share of bread throughout my youth, who hasn't?"

"To answer your question, I have little an answer other than you may trust to distrust.
The document is yours, you may do whatever you like with it, my lord.. I only ask that you be more than simply advised."

Mattowick stepped back and awaited the king's response.

If it were a game of chess, Garlen would have made a very unassuming move indeed, he himself was puzzled partially by his own words, he had intended to request an expansion of his holdings, however he held back..surely, it could be presented in a more fitting time? For now he would see what the king thought of his proposal.

 

[Duchess]

Francis thought for a moment over her words before saying, "It wasn't a failed engagement, well it wouldn't have been. Mine and Anna's marriage would have been for political gain, clearly, but for who's political gain? Surely not my family. My brother is Duke and an open Pagan, along with my other siblings and cousins. Then on top of that, our king is in question, so wouldn't I want to marry into a pagan family to make sure that if the king was in threat from the Vatican we could join together and defend our country. While Anna's family is influential in her country and I would have become Duke by marriage and she was an only child of a prominent Catholic family, none of it was for my family's gain, not for Bellamy's children, John's children, or Elizabeth's, or our cousin's. I may be the only Catholic among my brothers, sister, and cousins, but my family comes first. Our political gain comes first. Not mention Anna was bat shit crazy. I thought my cousin, Charlie, was a bit of a psychopath, this woman could potentially be a true psycho." Looking over at Evelyn, he raised an eyebrow at her thoughts on what he had just said. His own father hadn't heard his side of the story yet but he had feeling that Bellamy had. What would Bellamy say? Francis had always appreciated his brother's input but had never really listened to him as he should.

Catching up to Evelyn and her horse, he said, "I have no interest in being king. To be frank, it seems like a big waste of time." Francis ran a hand through his hair as he thought over everything he had just said. Why was he on this ride in the first place? He found the princess intriguing but enough to perhaps become king? Shaking the thoughts from his head and looking ahead, he couldn't help but to chuckle at her next comment. Break her heart? Now that was something new. Sure, he had broken a few hearts in the past, but for her to so boldly say it out loud...well he was shocked. He grabbed her reigns, stopping her horse as he said, "I wouldn't dream of breaking your heart because in all honesty princess, I believe, you'll break mine first."

 

[Lady Myst]

Serah

She barely heard the words her brother spoke, barely felt herself being led from the room.
A marriage? To the King?
Aside from the fact that he was a Southerner, he was the bloody KING! Which meant she was going to be the bloody QUEEN! A Queen?! How the hell was she supposed to be the Queen when the members of her own staff wanted her dead?! And having another husband?! Being married didn't seem to work well with her. What if he was just as bad as the last one, if not worse? She couldn't exactly kill the BLOODY KING!

A cup was pressed against her hand, but she was too much in shock and lost in her thoughts to register it. Her hand was urged up towards her mouth and she finally focused her sight on the one before her. It was one of her brother's men. She couldn't recall his name at the moment, but she chalked that up to all of the upset.
"You need to drink Lady Serah," he insisted. "It will calm you."
She stared at the cup of wine then back at him warily.
"You need not worry," he said with a wry smile. "I got this myself from an unopened keg in the cellar. It is safe. I took a sip myself just to make sure."
Serah relaxed a bit and nodded, taking a sip. The chilled wine sliding down her throat did help her nerves.

"Thank you," she said. "You are a good man. I can see why my brother places such trust in you."
He nodded. "Thank you milady," he said before turning to the two serving wenches that had entered the room. He fixed them with a glare that had them trembling. "I will wait outside the door. You have five minutes to get her dressed for travel and clothing packed. If anything happens to milady within the next five minutes, I will skin you both alive before feeding you to the hounds."

The women were justifiably terrified and moved with a speed that Serah would have admired had she not been in such a state. As they brushed and braided her hair, helped her dress for travel and packed for her, Serah couldn't help staring at the spot on the floor where Johana's body had been. Even though the stone had been wiped clean she could still see the blood of the innocent girl pooled there. She knew the sight would never leave her for the rest of her life.
Once the five minutes were up the door opened and the women left. Serah didn't thank them. They hadn't done this out of kindness, but out of fear for their lives. Hence, she owed them no gratitude. In fact, she owed no one in this place her gratitude.

"Milady," her brother's man said. "I am to bring you to Bjarke once we are ready for travel, but that will not be for at least another hour or so. Until then I shall leave you to your privacy, but I will remain outside of this room. No one shall enter except through me. Take whatever time you need in security."
Serah looked at him. Now to this man she owed gratitude. Although being no doubt a fierce warrior, he understood exactly what she needed : time to herself.
"Thank you," she said, her voice conveying the depth of her gratitude.
Once she was alone, Serah was able to do what she had been needing since that morning. Burying her face in her hands, she wept...

---

It was indeed nearly an hour before the man knocked on her door once again. By that time Serah had cried out most of her shock and grief. The weeping had been cleansing for her. Her face was normal now, the only remnants of her tears being the slight reddening of her eyes.
She nodded to the members of her staff as she left, not bothering to glance at any of them more then once. Who knew which ones wanted her dead? Well now she was going to be their queen.

A queen... somehow it just didn't seem real yet. She was to be the queen...

Outside she grimaced when she saw the carriage. She hated being trapped inside of that thing, much preferring riding her own horse. But how would it look to the king if his bride to be arrived on horseback? Would she even be able to ride anymore once she reached the court? How would the court accept her? How would the princesses feel about her? How was she supposed to be a queen? She didn't know how.

Getting inside the little box on wheels Serah looked out of the window for her brother, needing to know he was close. She felt trapped inside of a cage already.

 

[Lady Myst]

Brenna

The young woman stared up at the gate from under her cloak. This was it. The King's Summer Court. She had traveled quite a way to get to this place and could only hope it would be worth it.
It took every ounce of persuasion she had to get inside to see the king. It was difficult when you didn't like showing your face to just anyone. When people saw her eyes they tended to... not remain civil. When they saw the mix of blue, green, brown and grey they usually accused her of being either a witch or a fae.
Nothing said that the King would not react the same way, but Brenna had heard whispers that he might understand or even welcome someone who might be not entirely human in his house. Not that Brenna knew for sure what she was, but she didn't mind using the doubt to her advantage when she could.

Once inside, she managed to convince a steward or some such servant to at least mention her to the king. After that all she could do was wait...

----

People whispered as the cloaked young woman entered the throne room. Once she had been given permission to approach she knelt before the king.
"I am honored to be allowed to speak to your majesty," she said, her voice humble. "My name is Brenna. I present myself to you as a young maiden alone in the world, an orphan with no family or knowledge of my lineage. I pray and ask that I may offer my talents to my lord the king, to be in his service as a singer in his court, so that I may have a home and safety."
She raised her head and removed her hood. The whispers intensified as her unusual eyes were revealed. "If I may prove myself...?" she asked and, once the king gave her leave to continue, Brenna began to sing...

 

[Hell Hound Woof]

Yoren Mokuer, the Spy Master to King Maximus Fairway, had been sitting somewhat off in the edges of the throne room. He watched as the young girl came forth, he had heard much about her. It was his profession to know any woman man or eunuch that would be allowed near the king. For a girl such as her it was prudent he keep extra careful eyes on her. She dared not show her face, that only added to the mystery of her. Should she choose a bed in the city he would have a man watch her, to make notice of her face especially. See if she bared any resemblance to one spurned by the King. He drew one of his men close by waving a finger, a man in a stark black robe with a red underblouse came and leaned in close.

"See to it that she is watched for the next 3 days after leaving the palace, I will not have our King being sung to by some trickster working with assassins or mercenaries." Yoren said calmly, the man nodded and walked at a brisk pace out of the room.

When the girl began singing the room grew increasingly quiet, Yoren had no excuse to not be curious and moved slightly closer to the center of attention. He stayed at least 2 men behind the edge of the onlooking crowd. He crept like the snake watching, his eyes never blinking as he gazed upon the spectacle that was this masked woman. Her voice was gifted, as if their were some divine power that rested within her. When she completed her ballad he clapped lightly along with the rest of the court and moved slowly towards the King's side.

 

[Duchess]

Both Bellamy and John shared a look as they listened to what Serah had to say. Was Nacht's Reach as safe as they all believed? There was always the worry of spies within the walls or traitors but now it seemed this would be their reality. When Serah thanked John for his men's help, he could only nod, not fully sure of what to say. He knew for a fact he was ready to be away from their hide away and back at court. Excusing himself from the scene, along with his brother, they made their way back to their rooms to begin packing their things. It didn't take long for the men to get caught up in their thoughts and forget that they were still heading out in just a short amount of time.

Tyra stood at Bellamy's door as she watched him gather his things. Knocking softly, she asked, "May I come in?" Her and Bellamy had never had a bad relationship, in fact, they acted as brother and sister, even if neither knew the truth. Bellamy looked up at the young girl, slowly nodding his head as he said, "Close the door behind you."

Tyra did as she was told before walking over to the bed and sitting down, allowing her legs to dangle off the side. Looking up at her half-brother, she asked, "So the rumors are true?" It didn't take long for the news of Johanna to reach all of Nacht's Reach and Tyra had been only a few steps behind her brothers when they entered Serah's room to see for themselves, she only wanted confirmation from Bellamy.

Bellamy stopped what he was doing, looking up at her, he said, "She was a sweet girl and it wasn't her time but we needn't dwell on her death. We're heading south soon, I trust that you have gathered your things?" Tyra nodded, standing from the bed before excusing herself. Wrapping her arms around her body, she went down to the stables to ready her horse. When she spotted Bjarke, she bowed her head slightly as she softly said, "Bjarke, it is lovely to see you again. Forgive my informality but I'm afraid I'm not sure what to call you, a lord or what."

John and Bellamy both entered the stables close after Tyra, fetching their own horses but made no moves to interrupt her conversation with Bjarke. Amelia and Charles ran around Bjarke's men, causing chaos in the short time they had been in the stables. It was questionable if the two children even understood fear or not as they didn't seem intimidated by the large men around them.

​

 

[Hell Hound Woof]

Bjarke had just finished fastening his saddle bags to his horse when he noticed the woman from outside the council chamber, Tyra he believed it was. She was still fair, even in the early hours of the morning. Her eyes shown a brilliant blue that Bjarke had trouble not focusing on. She greeted him warmly and he smiled at her, she was of kind heart. Bjarke almost felt bad that he had not been better dressed or at least worn his eye cover. When she made clear that she didnt know what to call him he laughed a bit.

"I am not called Lord by many, mostly higher up men who wish for me to be in their graces. My men call me Grey Wolf, that name is fine for others to use but I feel it conveys my darker side more than the name my mother gave me. You may call me Bjarke, if it please you."

He tied a strap on his horse and checked the contents of his saddle bag, all was there. A book of words for children, he had never been properly schooled and still took time to learn when he was away from his men. He had also stocked a pair of apples, a loaf of bread, and a cask of untempered wine. He looked over his horse at the lady and had a calm smile as he spoke.

"But what do I address you as? A lady? Or a servant girl?" Bjarke said with playful teasing in his voice, "By your dress one could mistake you for a lady."

Bjarke noticed John and Bellamy Clayburn entering the stables, with their entrance Bjarke's attention was drawn away from the Northern Lady. He looked towards them and nodded his face resuming its normal stoney resolve. Outside he heard his men growling and threatening to eat up children, talking of Ÿrd's rabid appetite. He heard the squealing laughter of children and looked towards John assuming they were the sounds of his offspring.

 

[Duchess]

Charlie looked over Eira as she spoke but not in the normal, lustful, way he would have looked her over. Instead, he chose to admire her beauty and how she had grown since the last time he had seen her. They could have been children the last time he saw her, if memory served correctly. Looking to Rawlen, he bowed his head in respect to the man before answering Eira's question. Letting out a chuckle of his own, he said, "Charles is my uncle and while my birth name is after the Emperor Charlemagne, I earned the nickname from my younger cousin. So you may call me Charlie, I hardly qualify as a lord or sir." Motioning towards the castle doors, he asked, "Would you mind joining me for a ride? I understand if you'd like to rest from your journey but I'd enjoy the company." Charlie didn't see why he couldn't ask her to join him in a leisurely activity. From what he remembered the young woman enjoyed court about as much as he did well aside from the women. Clasping his hands behind his back as he waited for her response, he couldn't help but to notice that The Houndmaster had asked for a private meeting with the king. Pursing his lips in thought, Charlie rocked back on his heels deciding he would find out what that meeting was about later.

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[malina]

It was late morning when Marcella Petri awoke. She squinted as the sun's rays crept across her face, tickling at her nose and stinging her eyes. She yawned and stretched, allowing herself a few more moments of sleep before blearily sitting up. After living with Terenzio, comfort was such a strange sensation to Marcella. The inn's burlap blankets along with its lumpy straw mattress were by no means the finest it had to offer but it was all Marcella could afford on her small budget.

However to her it felt finer than the king's smoothest silks and she let out a rare small smile, rubbing her arms and wiggling her toes.A cool breeze blew into the room, making the ratty curtains flap and goosebumps rise on her body. Marcella's smile quickly turned into a frown - she'd shut the windows last night, she was sure of it. A multitude of scenarios began running through her head as she slipped over to the window cautiously - could it be Terenzio? A passerby who'd guessed at her secret? After a few minutes of peering outside Marcella slammed the window shut with nothing gained. Picking up a nearby bucket, Marcella took one last look before heading downstairs.

The Dancing Bear had its fair share of drunkards even in the morning. Sprawled over every table and chair they mumbled incoherently, staring deep into their empty tankards. Marcella cast them a disgruntled stare before heading on over to the tavern owner, Hilda Smith. Short, stout, and ill-mannered, Hilda was as far away from the nobles she yearned she was. Marcella offered her a smile, holding out her empty bucket. "Good morning Hilda! Ma-"

"Gerd murnin, gerd mernin! That all ya can say, ah? Got me those drunks on eery table an' chair an' ewe can call it a gerd mernin, ah? Oh, gimme that!" Hilda snatched the bucket and waddled over to the closest pump, grumbling all the way. Marcella followed awkwardly, careful not to set off the bomb that was Hilda. "Am losin' my mind o'er these drunks, that I am. Ees my bleedin' 'eart that's the problem. 'Alf these fellas can't even pay for the glass, let alone the ale." Hilda slammed the bucket onto the counter. "Now the king's palace, that's class! That's where ah belong! Donchu agree, Mwarcella girl?" But by the time Hilda had turned around, Marcella had made her escape upstairs.

Adjusting the blonde wig on her head, Marcella entered the palace for another day of festivities. She sighed - there were so many things she'd never seen before but time was ticking by too quickly to enjoy them. Terenzio had to be getting impatient by now, not to mention healing. Marcella snatched a cup of wine from a passing by servant, taking a sip before deciding to start her mission. She looked around before heading towards a particularly pale-skinned woman accompanied with a man, intending to strike up conversation. "The king's really outdone himself this time, hasn't he?" Acting as if she were a common invitee, Marcella took a sip of wine to calm herself. She hoped the nobles wouldn't see through her wig or her mock dress borrowed from Hilda. "The wine's certainly had enough time to age, don't you think?"

 

[VengefulPeanut]

- Eira Merrick, Lady of Stornoway -

She smiled and listened intently as he talked, grateful that he hadn't taken offence at her rudeness. "Well," she began, bowing her head momentarily and placing her hands demurely in front of her, "Charlie it is then. If we are to be so informal then you may call me Eira. I don't think I could stand the embarrassment if we operated on different levels of status."

"Would you mind joining me for a ride? I understand if you'd like to rest from your journey but I'd enjoy the company." Eira looked beyond Charlie as he asked and watched as Ralwen tried to pretend he wasn't eying up the food and drink with a hungry desire. She let out a breathy chuckle at the sight before looking back to Charlie with a warm smile.

"I would love to accompany you. It would be a shame to waste a beautiful day such as this," she answered. She ran her hands down her green cloak to try and straighten it out slightly and took a step towards the door. However, before she could properly set off a voice from behind caused her to turn around.

"The King's really outdone himself this time, hasn't he?" the voice said. When Eira turned round, the source of the voice was revealed to be a noble girl not too much younger than herself. "The wine's certainly had enough time to age, don't you think?"

"I wouldn't be able to tell you, I've only just arrived myself," Eira responded in a light tone. Suddenly, her eyes shot wide open as if she had realised she had forgotten something important. "I'm sorry, where are my manners? Lady Eira Merrick, daughter to the Duke of Stornoway," she introduced politely with a small curtsy and a bowing of the head. "We were about to go for a ride, if you'd care to join us? I hope you wouldn't mind Charlie."

 

[GoodEveningClarice]

Maximus listened raptly from his place in his arm chair, focused on every word that was coming out of the Baron's mouth. Strange indeed, to have him here offering all of this to him. He found it mildly agitating that Garlen might assume for a moment he didn't know any of this was going on, but after glancing over the document it became clear there were some minor disruptions he had never heard of. He nursed the paper for a moment then set it aside, steepling his fingers as he studied the other man for a moment.

"Forgive me for my plainness, Baron, but I find it very strange that you of all people are bringing this to me. I'm not a man for rumors myself, always found action to be more effective, but it has been whispered in my own ear that you may be a usurper."

He folded his legs and leaned back, eyes shut thoughtfully.

"However, as I said, I am not one to abide to rumors. Words are silly, wasted things." He gestured around him. "Though the pagan whisperings are rampant, I have yet to be proven a devil worshipper or a cannibal or anything else so I find them very boring. Without significant support from the Vatican or Spain or some other helpful country, a war would be next to impossible to win against me." He sipped his wine and fiddled with the document again. "But you are right. I need the people's support. My great wars are a few years too old to shield me from distrust. I shall have to start another one." He smiled to show he was teasing.

"I am taking a new wife, which will be announced tonight. A beautiful young northern widow. The people love royal marriages and my being single for so long has likely aided the rumors against me. My daughters are also close to marriage so if done strategically I'm sure I can use those to garner favor." He got up and firmly shook the other man's hand. "In the meantime, I thank you for this information, it will serve my spymaster well, I'm sure."

Maximus looked the other man over again. "Did you have need of anything else Baron? If this information proves to be of use I will owe you a favor, at least. How about a wife? Your hounds can't be nearly enough company." He smiled and clapped him on the back, guiding the other man out into the hall and towards the throne room. "I'd love to get my hands on a breeding pair of your hounds, mine are good but nearly so swift as yours. German ones I have, hardy and strong and ferocious, but still too slow." He handed off the document to Varric when the older man passed. "To the spymaster." The butler bowed and went on his way.

As the pair walked, a servant hurried over to inform the King that a new songstress was waiting to sing for him. The man sighed and smiled at Garlen. "Join me, she might be pretty at least." He found his way to the throne room and took a seat amongst bustling nobility and chattering servants. The girl seemed pretty enough from what he could see of her so he nodded when she thanked him. "Go on my dear, sing to your heart's content." He accepted more wine from a servant girl and listened intently. He was among many to stand and clap for the girl, a bright smile adorning his features. "Well done my girl, this court would be happy to sponsor your talents. Lodgings and a meal for my new songstress immediately." He watched Varric approach Yoren with the document from early, then nodded in approval when the man gestured for his wife to take care of the girl. Anna and Varric got along well with Yoren, they both knew what to look for.

Breanna would be guided from the room by Anna, who offered her a full lipped smile. "A lovely song." The head maid lead her to the servant's quarters which were very fine and warm and neat. "You'll sleep here." She gestured to a room on its own with a hearth and basin and fine bed. "The seamstress will meet with you this evening to have clothes made, you'll need to shine like a star to make it in court. As the king will be sponsoring you, he may make requests of you from time to time to learn a certain piece or perform at an ally's banquet or something to that effect. Also," She locked eyes with the girl to ensure it was clear she meant business. "Until I'm sure you have no ill intentions with our King or his daughters, you'll not be allowed upstairs or in the kitchens. Otherwise, I'm Anna Victorian, head maid. If you need anything or anything to do, talk to me."

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[GoodEveningClarice]

Evelyn watched her potential suitor ride up beside her, dark eyes trailing his movements. The wind his hair, his fine voice, it was difficult to focus on precisely what he was saying. She stroked her horse's mane, frowning as she thought it over. "Oh but Francis, any man who would have me would inherit the Kingdom too. I would the monarch, but my husband would be given a great deal of responsibility. If only to aid me in my choices and protect my reputation but that is more than many could bare." She leaned back in the saddle more comfortably and could help but smile at him. "You're a dream Francis. Both of our hearts will end up broken if you get close to me without intention."

She guided her horse with her knees towards a small pond just inside the royal hunting grounds. Two knights were a short distance behind them, enough to grant privacy without letting them too far out of range if Francis should try anything. Evelyn slipped off her horse and made a small turn in the grass so she could again look up at Francis. "I know we've only just met, but I've got to think about these things. You aren't a practical choice, but you are certainly more exciting than anyone else I've met." The princess turned away and lay down in the grasses and wild flowers, watching the blue sky and clouds peak through the canopy. "It is a strange thing though, trying to arrange falling in love."

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[GoodEveningClarice]

Illia was not having a pleasant morning. She was in the middle of dressing when Anna and Varric burst in on her. The two chattered so rapidly it took her several moments to comprehend they were telling her that several Knights from the Summer Home would be arriving within a few hours. The young courtesan sighed, exhausted already by the thought, and made herself available to them for whatever they needed which was evidently an extra set of capable hands. She spent nearly two hours with Anna ensuring the guard barracks was cleaned and ready for several new occupants. Also the Dame's room had to be made up in-between the princesses' so she could watch over them properly.

Next following Varric around taking down dictations for supplies that needed to be restocked and any tasks he needed to complete for the upcoming festivities. The work never ended! Finally, when the Victorians were content to let her go, she was informed the knights were only a few miles away. The already exhausted young half vampire made her way down to the throne room to welcome the knights just in time for the girl to sing. She paused near the grand doors, enchanted by the beautiful melody. Her hearing was better than average, so she more affected by the music than many. She clapped hardily when it had ended, just in time for the Knights of the Summer House to arrive.

Illia curtsied low as the two mean strode in, flanked by a just as impressive dame. "Welcome to the King's Court. The King extends his highest thanks for your swift arrival." Sir Dorian Locke nodded gravely, clearly not a man of humor. Sir Gregor Stormsent, on the other hand, flashed a bright, sharp grin at the beautiful young woman, grasping her pale hand and planting a plush kiss against it. "It is a pleasure to be here." Illia nodded and smile and looked to Dame Noria Hallan who only had a warm, maternal smile. Illia produced three pieces of parchment and handed to them to their respective knights. "Your postings. Two rooms in the barracks have been prepared for you, Sir Knights and a room in the tower for you Dame Hallan." The three immediately set off to set down their belongings. Illia breathed a sigh of relief, she already felt safer.

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