The Prince and the Mage (Peregrine x Prince Ruffles)

Discussion in 'ROLEPLAY GRAVEYARD' started by Peregrine, Oct 4, 2015.

Thread Status:
Not open for further replies.
  1. Played by Peregrine:


    Name: Cynric Alden, "The Allmage"
    Age: 48. His appearance was completely altered to suit the whims of the Library.
    Height: 6'1''
    Weight: 190lbs
    Personality: Cynric has always been a rather reserved fellow, the stoic and silent type. However, after his encounter with the Library he has become an even more silent individual. It often seems as though Cynric is lost inside his own head, viewing the world through a filter that those observing him could only begin to guess at. For the most part Cynric is easily able to "go with the flow" and adapt to what the situation presents, but this means that, when he snaps, he snaps hard, and the results are utterly terrifying. While Cynric was once a very compassionate man, the power of the Library has distanced him from his empathy. While he can still feel emotions and care about people, his emotions are always rather minimal, and it seems he is capable of completely sealing them away and committing acts of horrific cruelty at will.
    History: Once a hunter and trapper, Cynric was born on the new Continent only a month after his family's arrival. The colony they originated at was one of the few established at that point, and life was hard. Of his eight siblings, only Cynric, the eldest, and Tanya, the fifth, survived to their 18th birthdays. Tanya married a rich merchant and left the family, while Cynric followed in his father's footsteps to become a forester. He was very successful at his job and earned the patronage of a noble, who sent him deeper and deeper into uncharted territory to acquire the pelts of rare mythical creatures. On one of his journeys, Cynric stumbled upon the mythical Library. Unaware of what it was at the time, Cynric, driven by curiosity, entered the ruin, only to be taken over by the place. He was held there for two years, during which he was proclaimed dead. His family mourned his death, and life moved on. When Cynric was finally released, he was so different that his family would not have recognized him at all.
    Likes: Silence, observing, innocence, good weather, high-quality food and drink, using his powers in small ways.
    Dislikes: Busybodies, pure darkness, the cold, "courtly" behavior, gambling.
    Family: Henrich Alden (father, 68), Clarice Alden (mother, 66), Tanya Rethen (sister, 41), Orther Rethen (brother in law, 54), Thomet Rethen (nephew, 20), Francis Rethen (grandnephew, 3).

    Former Appearance (open)
    [​IMG]






    Played by Prince Ruffles:


    [​IMG]

    Name: Prince Gilbert Folan

    Age: 19

    Height: 5'4"

    Weight: 110 lbs

    Personality: Gilbert is, all around, a very nice guy. He doesn't mind telling you how it is, though, and he can come off as intimidating, even if he's pretty short. He has a certain glower that, if directed at you, can be very scary. He likes things to be done a certain way, and if they're not done that way, he will see to it that it is. Gilbert does not tolerate someone standing up to him or going against his orders. He has a terrible need for power and can be described as a control freak. The young Prince is, however, very kind and caring to his subjects. Be it the lowest of the low, or the knights and other nobles that reside in his castle. His paranoia greatly restricts him, though. Whenever he is struck with a fit, he locks himself in his room for a couple of days, making sure that no one can come in. Almost every scrap of food that is pushed under his door is immediately shoved out for fear of poison. Usually by the third day he will emerge, hunger and thirst knocking him out of his paranoiac state.

    History: Born in the kingdom of Folan, Gilbert had quite the pampered lifestyle. He was pretty used to getting what he wanted, and the Prince was what everybody wanted to be. When he was around the age of ten, his father took him to see some sparring between the lowers. While he was there, he met and interacted with the locals. One particularly drunk peasant had mentioned something about assassins. At that age he didn't understand what that meant. As he got older, he began to figure out what it was. One day, a few weeks after his 16th birthday, he had a letter addressed to him. When he opened it to find out what it was, what he read shocked him and changed his life forever. It was a letter threatening the Prince, saying that he'd better watch his back and keep a close eye on his friends. That completely threw his life into a loop. On his 18th birthday, the ambassador to their new colony was found dead in his bed. It wasn't murder, but it was of something that they could not know. Their medical staff didn't have the knowledge at the time to know of what it was. His father thought this as a wonderful opportunity for his son to sharpen up his political skills. So he sent him off, with an adviser of course, to the new colony, hoping for the best.

    Likes: Control, peace, hot food, sunshine, obedient people, meeting new people, mingling.

    Dislikes: Snooty people, rudeness, non-intelligent people ( But tolerates peasants that are ), greedy people, the cold.

    Family: Klaas Folan (father, 48), Gertrude Folan (mother, 45)
     
    #1 Peregrine, Oct 4, 2015
    Last edited: Mar 1, 2016
  2. A pair of black boots thumped against the stone road, a blue cape following behind its owner. A serious looked washed over the young prince's face as he made his way to his destination. He entered one of the buildings, plopping down a sack of coins and glancing over the things that the man had. "Now, let's see..." He hummed, mulling over what he wanted. The sign on the building said 'Carth and Sons' Meat Shack'. It was hardly a shack anymore. The prince really loved his meat and he was a great friend of the 60 year old owner. "I would enjoy...Three of your finest hogs, sir. You know the deal. Make sure they're fat, too. I really want a reason to lick my fingers tonight." A small smirk cracked onto his face and the old man gave him a nod. "Right away your majesty." He turned around and started to unhook one of the hogs. "I hope your week has been treating you well, Carth?" A knight stood next to the prince. There was no way he would be able to carry three fat hogs by himself. He was so lithe that about 600 lbs worth of pig would crush him. "Natt, get the meat." He ordered. "Ah, yes! Especially since you've stopped by here two days ago. Did those Turkeys fill up our young prince." Gilbert gave a small chuckle, nodding slowly. "Yes, they sure did indeed."

    The armored knight reached out and grabbed the dead animal, holding it by the hook. "Good, good...You might be interested in taking another one home, I presume?" That piqued his interest considerably and, with obvious curiosity, Gilbert gave a small noise. "Huh? why do you say that, Cath?" The old man turned around, holding up the other hog he had ordered. "Well, I regret to inform you, but...We only had two hogs today. Everyone took the rest." Pursing his lips, Gilbert nodded. "Yes, yes...That is most unfortunate. Do not worry, though. I will gladly take another Turkey. I brought enough for three hogs, but you can keep the excess change. I know it may not be much, but really, you do get the best meat. It's my little token of thanks." That smile of his popped up once more. "Are you sure? I mean, you're the whole reason that this place grew so much! With your 'little' donations!" A chuckle. "Of course I'm sure, Carth...You have been very good to me, so I will be good in return." The old man, obviously much more giddy, grabbed a Turkey and handed it to the other male. "Thank you, sir. Have a blessed day."

    "No, thank you, Gilbert! Have a wonderful day!" The prince turned on his heel and quickly clopped out of the building. As he exited, the bright sunlight hit his face, causing him to smile even more. "Ah, yes...I will have a wonderful day." The knights followed him out and he speedily made his way down the road, heading to one more destination.

    As he approached the next place, he stopped to talk to one of the commoners that he knew very well. The boots that he wore easily added another inch onto him, so he only looked down at the old woman. "Mrs. Merryweather!" He chimed happily, reached out to grab her wrinkled hand. "I do take it that life has been treating you well? You and Mr. Merryweather both?" She laughed softly and nodded. "Ah, yes your majesty! We have been doing fine. The children and grandchildren have been as good as ever, too! Martha is actually pregnant! Again!" A look of shock washed over his face. "Isn't this her seventh one?" She smiled. "Aye, it is. Don't you worry none, though, she is a strong woman." He gave her hand a pat. "Yes, and so are you, ma'am. Here..."

    Gilbert reached behind him and took the hog by one of its legs, wrenching it off quickly. "Hold this." Mrs. Merryweather, wrinkled face heating up, accepted the meat happily. The pig shook once more and then both legs were missing. "Here's another. I hope that you two enjoy it. Tell Mr. Merryweather that I said 'hello'." The old woman looked close to tears, but she nodded and quickly scurried off.

    The prince stood there, glad that he could do some good in his colony. He placed his hands on his hips, tight pants clenching to his waist with a frilly shirt tucked inside of it. That smile never faded from his face.
     
  3. As Prince Gilbert Folan, heir to the throne of Folan in the Old Land and the current reigning Lord of the colony of New Folan, walked down the busy market street of the Capital Port city of Folandell, his every step was paced by silent observers. Of course, all could see the hulking figure of Natt, a member of the palace guard who was obviously uncomfortable with having his charge in such a public place, and equally obviously well aware he knew there was nothing he could do to change Prince Gilbert's mind. But a second, far less prominent figure also marked his every move.

    People unconsciously filtered around the ghostly figure of the wraith, leaving what looked to be an empty pocket in the middle of the busy street. But none dared, willingly or accidentally, to fill it. None questioned its existence. In the minds of the passing people it simply was, a space that existed for its own sake, and which should not be filled.

    Through the eyes of the wraith the Allmage, a powerful sorcerer of lore, watched. Cynric Alden sat underneath an ancient oak, far outside the walls of Folandell, on one of the high hills that ringed the city. His legs were stretched out comfortably in front of him, his head tipped back to rest against the solid bark of the oak. His eyes were vacant, watching the dual reality of the cloudless sky above him and the busy market street where his wraith shadowed the prince.

    "It seems he truly is as kind as they say." Cynric murmured to the empty air. "Just this one chance. He will be the first and only to whom I make this request. If he refuses, or if he conceals ulterior motives, then I shall leave. I shall dedicate my existence to The Knowledge."

    Please, Cynric implored the universe silently. I'm not ready. Please, let him agree. Let this show of kindness be more than just a facade. I'm not ready.

    In the marketplace, the Prince came to a stop, standing in the middle of the marketplace, hands on hips, striking a noble figure for all to see. This would be a good moment. The wraith moved up beside Gilbert, before sliding into his position. There was a brief flare of magic as Gilbert vanished and his form was replaced by that of the wraith. To the highly observant it might seem as though the Prince flickered briefly, but to all others there would be no notable change. The wraith turned without word and began to make its way back to the palace, Natt in tow.

    The real Prince Gilbert would be thrown into a moment of swirling chaos where the world shifted around him, as his body was pulled through the spaces between objects. When there was once more something for Gilbert's eyes to comprehend, he was standing on the hill with Cynric, facing the sprawled mage.

    "I hope you will forgive the interruption, your maaagesty." Cynric drawled, once the young man stabilized himself from the aftereffects of the teleportation magic. His words seemed to fall off his tongue like spun sugar. "But I did not see any way to set up a formal appointment, and I did so dearly long to speak with you." He stood, long legged and lean, tipping back the hood that covered his face to reveal sharp, tanned features, dirty blonde hair that clung to his shoulders, and mismatched eyes, one blue and one gold. He offered a flourished bow to the prince before straightening once more. "Do you know who I am?"

    It should not have been hard for him to guess. Rumors of the appearance of the Allmage had made their way through all the colonies by now, passed from mouth to mouth faster than the wind. Only the strongest mages could perform teleportation magic, and even fewer of those could do it without any obvious signs of the magic having taken its toll. Normally Cynric would not have played such games, for they really weren't his style, but this was a special occasion. His eyes were locked on the prince, silently conveying both powerful promise and deadly threat.

    Now it was Gilbert's turn.
     
  4. The world tumbled around him as he was being teleported from the market place to the hill on the outside of the town. With a loud 'Whump' noise, Gilbert smacked into the ground, catching a mouthful of dirt and grass. The Prince's head popped up and he gagged, wet soil falling out of his mouth. Gilbert spat the dirt out and felt a frothy rage bubbling up inside of him. Staggering to his feet, he was prepared to yell at whoever knocked him over. He was completely ready to let loose his rage.

    Completely forgetting that he had teleported from one area to another, the Prince swung his body around and took in a deep breath, about to unleash his full wrath on whatever, or whoever, was the culprit of all of this. "Oi, I don't know who---" He stopped mid-sentence, eyes widening considerably. He couldn't believe what he was looking at.

    The Prince listened to him speak.

    "Do I know you?" There was a small chuckle and Gilbert shimmied up over next to the Mage, nodding. That feeling of anger completely disappeared in those two seconds. "Of course I know you! I've seen so many posters and wanted ads with your face on it. I've read descriptions, heard stories, you name it! I don't know if you could tell, but I have forbidden the search for you in my colony. There are no posters here. Now, there are obviously some secret search parties, but they usually get disbanded by morning." Almost like a child meeting his idol, Gilbert was all over him like syrup on pancakes.

    Those unique eyes...Only very few people had eyes like that, so it was pretty distinguishable to tell who he was, if the roughed up man didn't give it away enough.

    "What has brought you to me...?" The boy asked, curiosity etched into his voice,

    While he was waiting for an answer, the Prince spat out some more grass, making a small hacking noise. He took his hands and started brushing and patting his body, getting any other dirt and debris that would have clung to his frame after the fall. Thankfully his clothes didn't get muddy or damaged. He wouldn't have been mad, especially since he would have no reason to, but he wouldn't have gotten upset anyway, because it was the mage that he had been wanting to meet that caused this.

    He quickly ran a hand through his brown locks, hoping to get any clumps of dirt out. There were none, thankfully. He made sure he was all clean and proper before giving his body a quick shake, almost like a dog. The antics could be seen as weird, but he was really just trying to get cleaned up for a 'correct' meeting.

    "I do understand why you were not able to make a real appointment...But, really? You had to choose the dirtiest?" He gave a small chuckle before patting his pants once more, bringing his green eyes to meet with the Mage's mismatched ones.

    "So...State your business, sir? Why have you contacted me, of all people? Does my kingdom have something that you need? Do you seek sanctuary? Do you need supplies?" The questions spewed out like an uncorked barrel full of water.

    {[ I'm so sorry---This is probably a bunch of ramblings, but I'm so tired, and I knew you'd want to hear from me today--- ]}
     
  5. Cynric waited patiently for all the young man's words to spill out of him, although in that moment he seemed far more a boy than a man. On the outside he gave no hint as to his thoughts about Gilbert's words; no flicker of emotions crossed his face. But inside, Cynric felt the spread of warmth that was reminiscent of a small, smug smile. Nothing in the Prince's demeanor had changed compared to the reputation he presented to the outside world. It was not just a facade, it was his real nature.

    You see? This was the right choice.

    But what was he to say at this point? Cynric had made so many justifications to himself about this choice of action, had so many ways to define and describe what it was he wanted and expected from the Prince that they would be impossible to completely enumerate. In the end, though, it was quite simple. Gilbert had already said it himself.

    "Yes. I suppose what I seek is sanctuary, although perhaps not in the manner you expect. At the moment the other colonies are simply hunting a rogue mage. I need to turn this into a political matter, to somewhat stay their hands and keep them from taking immediate action against me." He refrained from mentioning that this desire had far more to do with protecting the people who would be sent to hunt him than it did protecting himself. "I need to tie myself to one of the Old Kingdoms, and, quite frankly, Folan is the only option."

    Politics. It left a bitter taste on his tongue. Cynric had never wanted anything to do with politics. Even serving a noble as a trapper was nearly too much for him. Yet here he was, willingly jumping into a cesspit of politics. It was a good thing that the Knowledge of the Library was not just limited to magic.

    "As for the fall, my apologies. That should not have happened." Cynric refrained from saying that it probably had more to do with the Prince's clumsiness than any flaws in the spell. Cynric's magic was not so artless as to leave the target of his spell floundering in the dirt. All faults aside, though, there was no denying that the dirt and grass stains now covering Gilbert's once-flawless white outfit were a direct result of his spell. A simple wave of his hand resolved that problem, as a faint ribbon of light swirled around the Prince's outfit and any traces of dirt slid away like water off a duck's feathers.

    "By agreeing you will be taking a massive risk, and may even be inviting ostracization from your own country in their attempt to maintain relations with the other Old Kingdoms. It is not a decision that should be approached causally, and I do not expect an answer immediately. But there would be advantages, which I would gladly share with you if you would be willing to allow me to remain for a time. What do you say?"
     
  6. The prince watched as the white light twirled around him, the stains seeming to just disappear. He gave a few claps of approval. "Ah, yes yes! Thank you!" There were a few more chuckles. "Excellent! Now, continue!" He placed one of his hands on his hip, cocking it out to the side and tilting his head, hearing what he had to say.

    Gilbert listened intently, nodding softly. "Yes, I know of the consequences I will have to face if anyone finds out about you..." He let out a long, low exhale, thinking of what he should do. Even if the Mage stayed in the castle, the prince would have to gain the trust of all of the colonies. That way, when he finally did come out, they would at least hear what he had to say before wanting to murder the poor man.

    The bad thing was, most of the colonies were at odds with Gilbert. They hated the fact that they could not hunt for the Mage in his territory. This would be extremely difficult...The happiness that was once on his face quickly vanished. The usually ecstatic prince was now pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and pointer finger, eyes closed tightly in thought.

    He was definitely faced with a life, and moral, changing dilemma. If he kept the Mage safe in his castle, which he had been longing to do for awhile now, he would have peace of mind, but there would be dire consequences if any of the colonies found out. On the flip-side, he could kick him out of Folan and let those savage beasts find him and get the information they needed. That would keep him and his reputation safe.

    A thought struck his mind. Why on earth was he even considering the last option!? He would never put someone's life at risk on purpose! There was a deep sigh. "How about...How about you tell me what the advantages are...? I'm pretty sure I've come up with my answer, but...I just need a few more minutes to think about it. I'd hate for you to sit in silence while I mentally argue with myself..." He gave a single hand motion, one that was the universal equivalent of him saying, 'go on'.
     
  7. Once again, Cynric waited patiently for Gilbert to speak. It was clear that the Allmage had absolutely no problems with waiting for the young man to think his way through whatever thoughts were undoubtedly racing through his head, as it took him a moment of blinking for his eyes to refocus on the young Prince. Unconcerned, or perhaps simply unthinking, of the political niceties of the moment, Cynric sat down once more, leaning against the old oak. Once he was seated, he nodded to Gilbert's request.

    "Most of them are, indeed, fairly obvious," Cynric agreed. "But perhaps I can shed some better light on the situation. I am the Allmage, but, even more than that, I am a complete Allmage. I do not only possess a portion of the Knowledge of the Library, as did the Allmages of lore, I possess it in its entirety." This would indeed be new information for Gilbert. There had been 15 Allmages in recorded history, and all of them were shrouded in mystery and legend. But what was known for a fact was that they were powerful mages, often far, far beyond the scope of even the most skilled mages the world had produced. Legends told of how it had taken 15 grand sorcerers to contain the magic of Semerich of the Dark Mist, an Allmage who was famous for conquering half of the known world at that time. Yet, if Cynric was to be believed, and he had no reason to lie, these impossibly powerful mages had possessed but a taste of the Knowledge. This made Cynric powerful beyond all comprehension. "That Knowledge would be, at least to an extent, at your disposal. What you willed done would be done."

    As he continued, something in Cynric's tone seemed to change. His voice became softer, more rhythmic and melodic, and the touch of his words would send a tingle down any listener's spine, like a drop of magic against the back of the neck. "Should your country turn against you, should the entire world and everyone in it turn against you, I would allow no harm to come to you and those you choose." His eyes turned to the prince, and there was a trace of steel in them. "I cannot save everyone. I cannot be everywhere at once. It is almost certain that people will die, innocent people with no crime to their name other than living under your rule. That is the price you will pay for having me stand by your side and act to your will."

    Cynric blinked, and the magic ebbed from his tone. "There is no shame in turning me away. I shall not be caught by those pursuing me. No harm would come to me, and I would not use my power in cruel revenge exacted against those who turned on me. I shall retreat from civilization, and devote myself to the Knowledge." He longed to stay his tongue there, to say no more. It could not happen. "But... I am not yet ready to leave the human world so far behind. That is why I approach you, and that is the Sanctuary you would be offering me."
     
  8. Green eyes peered off somewhere, not even focusing on once object. Slow nods were issued when they were needed, and silence when it was needed. There was one more sigh before he closed his eyes, mulling over what he had said once more. "I have made my decision...Uhm..." There was a slight hesitation. "You...Can stay at the castle...But you'll have to stay in my room...I can not risk you being seen by any visitors in the castle." The prince tapped his foot on the grass, shaking his head.

    "I...Can't believe I actually had to make this decision." There was a light, airy laugh at the end. It was clearly not sincere. "I've never had to make such a tough decision...But I knew it might come to this one day. I hoped that if I did find you, I would have the strength to take you in...Obviously I didn't...I can't believe I second guessed myself today..." He brought a hand up to rub down his face, one more deep sigh making his chest rise and fall heavily. The choice that he just made would now determine the outcome of their entire lives. He was throwing in his family, his friends, his life---Everything. He threw it all in a bucket and fate was taking the wheel.

    "Let's just hurry up and get to the castle. I don't know how you did that teleporting thing, but I need you to do it again. You'll have to find a way to teleport you and I back to my room. I can't even risk sneaking onto castle grounds." This was crazy! The excitement, however, was getting to him, and a mischievous smirk played onto his face again, the stress and tension completely fading away.

    "Do you have a plan, or what? I'd love to hear it." He wasn't trying to sound mean or pushy, honestly.
     
  9. Cynric's eyes drifted closed for a moment, and he heard the sound of his heartbeat. Thump Thump. He allowed himself just that one moment of pleasure and relief, before his eyes drifted open again and he devoted himself to the task at hand. "That will do for now. A more... viable option than my living in your room will undoubtedly present itself soon." In the back of his mind, Cynric created an image of the problem, a concept and idea that encapsulated all known variables of both the issues at hand and the ultimate desired results, and politely handed the whole bundle to the Knowledge. Indeed, a solution would present itself soon.

    Once again Cynric's eyes closed, but this time it was in concentration rather than relief. A faint vibration filled the air just around him, the echo his magic left on the world. He sent out another phantom figure, which raced over the hills to the city, and then through the streets towards the silhouette of the palace. As the phantom moved Cynric spoke. His tone only conveyed a faint hint of distraction. "I have left a temporary wraith in your place, so none should remark upon your sudden disappearance. It has been heading towards the palace while we have spoken, but will not reach its destination for a few more minutes. In order to best maintain the deception, I cannot move us until then."

    The phantom had reached the palace. It truly was a lovely place, although by its size more appropriately called a manor than a true palace. Lush, carefully tended gardens surrounded it, while the inside was kept spotlessly clean. The entire place was filled with the trappings of the latest fashion. It was a vacation home truly fit for the son of a king. Servants bustled through the hallways, while the cooks were already hard at work on dinner. Petitioners from the city lined up in a hall, waiting for their chance to speak their grievances to Gilbert's adviser, Lord Patrick Ruthage. "In the meantime, direct me to your room as though you had just walked in the front door."
     
  10. Gilbert nodded softly and thought. "Well...If you take a left and go down that hallway, there's a set of small stairs that spiral upward. Walk up those stone steps and you'll get to the second floor. Now, you want to go down the corridor to the right and immediately on your left is a door. Go through that door, and there's my room!" A large grin popped onto his face and he clapped his hands happily. "So, those are the directions to my room! Is there anything else you need to know?"

    The prince gazed around, now able to take in his surroundings. Ah, yes! He knew this hill pretty well, actually! This was one that he used to sneak out from the town and come up to rest or just watch his subjects walk around, buying food and mingling. He didn't ask for much, really! All he wanted was for people to treat others fairly, give them chances, and be kind to everyone they met!

    These seemed like childish rules or expectations, but if everyone learned to love one another, they would make his kingdom a better place. But it wasn't just his kingdom in his mind; it was everyone's! They all held a part in the community that kept people here and kept them working.

    {[ I'm so sorry---I hope this is okay! I wanted you to know that I am still interested! ]}
     
  11. "That will do for now," Cynric replied calmly. The two lapsed back into silence.

    It did not occur to Cynric that it might be rude for him to ignore the Prince, after having so unexpectedly pulled him away from his day. Cynric's mind was on other matters, perhaps most notably of which was tracking the progress of the wraith Gilbert as it made its way back to the palace and to the prince's room and making sure that it would not make any mistakes that might give away the fact that it wasn't really Gilbert, and checking over the entirety of the manor-palace for anything that might be triggered by him teleporting both the prince and himself directly into the premises. When he found a few standard precautions, he began to carefully create a way to work around them.

    The people of this kingdom really did seem to love their prince. They waved to him fondly as he passed, and more than a few tried to waylay him in conversation as he made his way back home. It was unlike any of the other colonies that Cynric had seen. There, the peasants did their best to stay far away from any nobles, let alone the lord of the colony. Even a single misstep in their presence was sufficient grounds for some very harsh punishment unless they were protected by another noble. Nowhere else would any peasant dare halt someone so important in their path, and espeically not for pointless chatter.

    Idly, as the Knowledge continued to work at creating a hole in the protective magic around the palace, Cynric wondered if the Folan of the Old Kingdoms was like that as well, or if it was just here. Or, perhaps, it was just the prince, and the peasants would never dare to approach one of the other nobles. It would be something worth keeping an eye on, since Cynric intended to remain here for a length of time.

    The wraith reached the palace, dismissing both Natt and the servants who gathered with a wave of the hand. "I'll be back in a moment," it said, before making its way towards the room. Once the door to Gilbert's room was closed Cynric dispelled the wraith, before getting to his feet. "Here we go," he said, reaching out a hand to close it over the prince's shoulder. The teleportation magic enveloped the both of them, and a split second later they appeared safely in Gilbert's room. Cynric released him.
     
  12. The silence was deafening. Gilbert gulped and, after a few minutes, he started to fidget. He wasn't used to being completely silent, especially when other people were around. For royalty, he really was a chatterbox. Sometimes the peasants in town would talk about how long the prince could go on and on about random things. Sometimes it would be just for the sake of talking and actually holding a conversation up with someone besides the people that resided in his castle.

    Could that be the whole reason he's so nice? He's pretty sociable, so always being cooped up in the castle was bad for him. That's one of the main reasons he went into town and refused to have anyone else go in his place. He wanted to be the one to interact with his subjects. He wanted to be the one to be around anyone and everyone.

    When he felt the hand on his shoulder, he looked over to the Mage, nodding. Hopefully this time he wouldn't fall flat on his face. It would especially suck if he did, because the floor was straight stone. No cushioning at all.

    When their feet hit the floor, he opened his eyes, a small smile spreading onto his face. "I guess your hand kept me stable enough to not fall this time. Thank you!" He gave a nod and shuffled over to his closet, popping the cape off from his shoulders. "Well, Cynric...What's the first thing on this agenda? What do we need to do, hm?" After hanging the piece of cloth up, he started lifting his shirt up and over his head, rummaging around for a much looser one.

    When he found it, he put it on, wriggling to get comfortable. After that was done, he pushed the closet door closed and turned around, still grinning.
     
  13. "For now," Cynric replied, perching himself lightly on the edge of the short chest that sat at the foot of Gilbert's bed. He folded one leg across the other, and rested his hands on his knees. "You need to go back downstairs, and come up with a reason that you left the market for your room so abruptly. The most important thing right now is for you to avoid raising any suspicion. It is no secret to the 11 colonies of your... sympathy for the Allmage, and there are inevitably going to be people in your palace who report information of your actions to the other colonial lords. Should you start acting out of character right as all traces of me vanish, it will not be hard for the other lords to guess what happened.

    "For now, do whatever you would normally do on such a day as today. Do your best to dispel thoughts of me from your mind, in order to best act as though we had not met. I know it will probably not work, but try all the same." He offered a half smile to the excitable prince, one of almost paternal humor.

    "I shall remain here, and make sure no one takes note of my presence. And, just as I promised, I shall let you know when a better solution than my hiding in your room makes itself known. Hopefully it will present itself before you return for the evening." Now that Gilbert had accepted the mage, it truly seemed as though any and all thoughts of formality had slipped the mage's mind. In truth, Cynric had not really forgotten, but he had always hated all that bowing, scraping, and flattery. It was the only part of working for Baron Reece he had truly disliked. Other than an obsession with formality, the Baron had been a good employer, liberal with his pay and generally respectful. Now that he knew there was no true need for it, he was more than happy to desist in such tendencies.

    "Have a good day, Prince Gilbert."
     
  14. Gilbert hummed softly, nodding just the same. “Yes, sir, Cynric. I’ll come up with a stellar excuse. I’m pretty good at making those, really.” He glanced at the mirror next to his closet, checking his teeth and straightening his hair out, making sure it looked just as neat and just as presentable as it had before he had disappeared. After that was done, he turned to Cynric and smiled. “The same for you, sir. Have a great day. Don’t have too much fun without me, okay?” The prince winked at him before turning around and opening the door, closing it ever so softly.

    Gilbert’s boots clopped down the stairs and when he reached the bottom, he was confronted by Natt, his knight. “Ah, there you are. Sorry for disappearing so suddenly. I just really needed to get out of that tight shirt, you see? It sure was hot today, wasn’t it?” The knight nodded softly, not speaking too much. In truth, he really was a quiet man. He never talked much to the Prince after…What had happened…That’s another story for another day, however.

    ‘Dispel the thoughts…Don’t let them get in…Agh, this is so hard…’ His eyes were closed in thought as he hurriedly made his way down the hall, Natt in tow. ‘What would you normally do? Hm…Today’s Thursday, right? I need to…Oh, yeah! I have to---‘ He slammed into the wall where the hallway split into two. He hadn’t been paying attention, too busy thinking of, not only what he was supposed to do, but of the Mage hiding in his room. It was more along the lines of him trying to not think of the Mage. If that makes any sense…Gilbert was quickly knocked out of his daze and onto the floor, and when he opened his eyes, he turned to Natt laughing softly. “S-sorry about that.” The strong man nodded and helped the prince up, stoic expression ever present on his stubble ridden face.

    Oh, how he wished he could go back in the past and see the Natt he used to know. Back then he smiled…Back then he laughed…Back then…”Prince Gilbert!” Called out a gruff, female voice. He quickly turned to face whoever had said his name. A very thick woman came rushing down the hall. She was almost as tall as Natt and almost as muscular, too. She held a wooden spoon in her hand. “Do you want pig or turkey tonight?”

    “Ah, well Beatrice…I’ve had Turkey all last week, so can you cook the pig, please?” She nodded. There was a thick accent, probably Russian, lacing her voice. “Thanks Beatrice. Can you make sure it’s marinated, too?”

    “Yes, your majesty. I’ll get right on it.” The cook quickly stomped off. “Gah, that woman scares me…” He mumbled to himself. “Yes, she is pretty scary.” Natt agreed.

    “Okay…So, today I have to…Today I have to…” He couldn’t quite think of what to say…Nor could he remember what he had to do. “Your majesty, today’s Thursday…It’s your day off. Why don’t you go rest? You obviously need it.”

    “You mean…In my room?” Natt nodded and Gilbert shook his head quickly. “N-no! Uhm, I can’t…I’ll just go out to the garden, yeah? Yeah.” He quickly clopped off, a confused Natt following behind him tentatively.

    At the end of the day, after eating all of his dinner and requesting thirds, Gilbert made his way up to his room, a plate full of steaming hot food in his hands. He opened the door and waved to Cynric, grinning softly. “H-hey there! Uhm…I brought you something to eat, if you want it.” He set the plate down with a clink, putting it onto the dresser with the mirror in front of it. “Beatrice is an amazing cook, so I’m sure you’ll love it!” He shuffled over to his bed, climbing onto it and putting his hands in his lap.


    {[ I hope this is okay and you can tell who is talking and all--- ]}
     
Thread Status:
Not open for further replies.