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Post by Dunce on Oct 20, 2015 3:07:12 GMT -6
Outskirts of Valvishie, Capital of the Valar Kingdom of Duncetochi. The Queen's Private Solar. Fall of 876 A.O. ____ Before the Great War. Vibrant shades of orange and yellow dotted the community of trees that encircled the private home of Queen Sa'al Ridias, the ruler of the Valar Kingdom of Duncetochi. Birds sailed overhead in lazy V's to prepare for the coming cold of Winter. Leaves gently fluttered to Earth, returning to provide for those who provided for them. Chilly, yet vibrant and warm; feelings that signaled the beginning of the Eva Cadere Festival, or Fall's Dawn. A time to remember that all things come to an end to be remade whole again in another being. Where all must give thanks, and feast on the bounty provided to them by the graciousness of the Agents and the Gods that watched from above. For the queen, however, it was more or less a time for politics and general conversation. A massive clearing and solar towards the back of the cozy estate was lined with one table spreading the length of the yard, various pots, pans, plates, and utensils gleaming in the fading light of the Fall sun. Extravagantly furnished chairs lined the table, the occupants of which ranged in skin and size so much that one would be forgiven for assuming some crisis had driven all the races into one place. Many of the patrons wore lavish suits of armor, or were adorned in vibrant jeweled crowns, with heavily suited fellows standing behind them, spears, swords, and weapons at the ready should something turn fowl. At the end of the table sat the pale queen. Adorned in very little flashy clothing, save for a white-silken dress and a small band around her head she slowly shifts her gaze between the patrons: Kings, queens, rulers, warlords, and monarchs of all makes. Peace was considered a rarity in these times, and the queen had taken the opportunity to invite the rulers of many a nation to participate in a tradition she considered to be rather boring, but necessary. Some semblance of tradition has to exist, after all. The two heavily armored Valar behind her shifted uneasy in the presence of the rulers of the known world. And yet, the young elf to her left seemed to care not. He toyed with his fork, twirling it across the tips of his fingers with a deftness expected from somebody who is very bored quite often. The Bastard's Fist, Ma'va Assenzio, in all his reputation and prowess, was reduced to a guest at a dinner table with the enemy. Something he didn't particularly like the idea of, suffice to say. His brown eyes flicked between the guests, chuckling to himself at how pompous some of them appeared to be. The queen cleared her throat. All murmurs were silenced immediately. Even Ma'va found himself snapping back into decent posture, placing the fork on the table. The queen's blue eyes scanned the table briefly, before she placed a hand on her cheek, resting on the table. "As you are all aware," she said in a voice like satin, "I have invited you to participate in a feast for Eva Cadere. It is an honor to have all the world's powers in one place. Perhaps the Agents are smiling down upon us, as we talk amongst ourselves during this most... Significant event." "However, the feast is not all I have prepared for you. I realize some of you are partial to dueling, chess, other games of the mind. Fear not, I have accounted for tastes of men and women like yourselves. All number of activity lays before you now." The queen adjusts herself, vibrant red lips parting for one final statement. "Let the feast begin." A number of cooks emerge from the house, baring a variety of dishes. The scents of various meats, fats, soups, medleys, and all manner of cuisine wafts through the crisp autumn air, as the dishes are placed before the guests. Ma'va finds himself licking his lips, picking up the fork again. "Dig in, so to speak..." |
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Post by Bernie Sanders on Oct 20, 2015 11:40:26 GMT -6
The Varangian stood behind the Duncetochi Queen, the typical frown present on his face. Around the grove and in the doorways and archways that decorated the home stood several of the elite force that had served the Duncetochi crown as a specialized warfare and guard unit. The Norman Guard had been created generation earlier in order to combat the Monarchs growing uneasiness with trusting the native guardsmen, and the force had been recognized time and time again for it's loyalty and skill on both the battlefield and as guard units and this was clear as their discipline and experience was evident while they completed their tasks of searching the guests for contraband, escorting others, and simply standing on guard duty.
The Varangian, the heir apparent to the seat of the High King from a state much farther north, stood tall in the classic Norman Uniform. Adjusting his Lamellar Cuirrass over his Haubrek he stepped forward, leaning slightly over the Queen as he whispered something into her ear, then recognizing her response, he stepped back motioning for a guard to replace him quickly turning his pace and heading further into the complex of the home, nodding to various fellow Northmen he recognized among the guard as he paced to the objective.
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Post by ocelot on Oct 20, 2015 12:43:37 GMT -6
With a faint growl of agitation, the overly tall man adjusted his coat and cuirass, staring at the large doors that lead into the grove. He chewed on his lower lip in thought, more or less ignoring the Valar flanking him, the two elves having to peer upwards at the giant of a man. After a moment's delay, Stephen shifted forward, hand resting on the door and pushing it open enough to slip into the banquet proper, staff gripped tightly in his left, gloved hand. His boots clomped quite loudly on the ground, snapping a twig as he glanced about the lords, ladies, and there charges.
A moment of silence lapsed over those who bore witness to the pale giant, some not quite sure what exactly it was that they were seeing, though after a moment, some of the smaller nobles - and even some of the lord's guards - recognized the man, grins crossing their features as they moved over to greet him. A slightly awkward grin plastered itself onto the wizard's face as he exchanged shakes and quick hugs to some of the men he had fought beside in his exploration across the world. After a moment, however, the guards were called back to their flustered, overly burdened and lavished lords, offering quick murmurs to Stephen with promises of free alcohol after the 'fancy cinoths stopped stuffing their gobs'.
Soon enough, Stephen was left alone once more, the massive figure glancing around the room with a flicker of a frown crossing his features, some gazes still burrowing into the stranger who surely had to be some sort of unhuman (to the less cultured in the room, of course..).
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Post by Dunce on Oct 22, 2015 23:16:04 GMT -6
Ma'va's gaze shifts to the massive man who just entered, raising an eyebrow.
"What an ugly shit..."
He sets his plate aside, pushing back from the seat, seemingly not disrupting the revelry at the table. He takes brisk steps towards the giant man, hands behind his back.
"Excuse me, fellow. I wasn't aware we invited beast-men to this festival, or perhaps you're smarter than you look?" Said the young elf in his usual cocky demeanor.
The queen cocks her head, looking at the elf facing the man, shaking her head.
"Tis' a pity..."
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Post by ocelot on Oct 22, 2015 23:26:34 GMT -6
Stephen blinked slightly, peering down at the elf a front him. The massive man leaned against his staff, head tilting and a small smile crossing his features as some of those men he had just conversed with looked over, trying to hide snickers as their nobles chastised them with quick swats or hissed curses.
The giant didn't seem too phased by his words, simply pursing his lips in thought before speaking out in a rather neutral - albeit deep - tone, "I believe you may be overcompensating for the lack of your ability to hold actual conversation with spewing out insults from your lips like a torrential waterfall of blabber and non-sense. And it's my belief you're looking for a fight - of which you won't find one. I suggest going back to your dinner, or asking one of the drunker nobles wandering about."
He shrugged, turning his gaze to the Queen. He tilted his head downwards, averting his gaze from her, bringing up his free hand to his chest and shifting his body downwards, a quick formal greeting, considering the festivities were already underway. His voice carried across the room quite easily, piercing most conversations. "My Queen, I am Stephen Theogood, magical adviser and diplomat of the lands of Vakira. I apologize for my tardiness."
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Post by Dunce on Oct 25, 2015 9:35:28 GMT -6
The young elf gritted his teeth, his knuckles cracking from the pressure he was putting on the pommel of his dagger. He was moments away from drawing the dagger before he spotted the queen shaking her head. He grunted, storming off towards what appeared to be a dessert table.
The queen looks up from her chair, dismissing her two guards with a wave.
"The pleasure is all mine, Theogood. Have a seat, if it pleases you. And excuse my Chief Assistant, he can be a bit rash."
Something about her smile, as many who have met her would note, was disconcerting.
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Post by Sir Cox on Oct 25, 2015 11:30:06 GMT -6
A young boy sat in his seat watching as the festival goers went about their business with an icy glare and frown commonly known to be on the boy. However, no one could really tell this. He was wearing a mask of steel and gold that sat upon his face with a constant expression of calm understanding no matter what he felt on the inside.
He was Laer Rurhnstahk vom Kruhn or Rodrick vom Krahnn depending upon where he was. He was especially young ,even among the short lived people of the Khazad, for him to be a Laer. He held his position with alarming diligence and understanding of the modern world which was especially rare of the nobles of the Khazad (most being illiterate). He in fact had purchased himself formal training from this land and saw it as his personal duty to be the Khazad ambassador when invited to the festival.
"Most fascinating", he said lowly to himself as the scene unfolded with Queens assistant. "Mun Laer?", the two men at the flanks of the back of his chair asked simultaneously in Khazadii."Oh, nothing just some drama", he said warmly getting from his chair, "stay here Mun Lae'Knaeught Graudern."
"Ja, mun laer", they replied as he walked towards the three. "Queen Sa'al Ridias, I am Lord Rodrick vom Krahnn, at your service. It is most excellent to see your beautiful land again, and the festival is a marvel of the talents of your kingdom", he said cheerfully and quickly to the Queen as an opening of greeting and conversation. However, he found his interest lay more in the Chief Assistant than the Queen solely.
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Post by ocelot on Oct 25, 2015 13:32:27 GMT -6
Stephen tilted his head in acknowledgement to the Queen, before moving over to drop into a seat between two lesser nobles - ones he knew, and who offered grins and snickers at how the Vakiran treated the elf boy. Even sitting, the man was a mass of muscle towering above most, though he held a cheery enough attitude about him, emitting a warmth that most may find comforting. Granted, they'd have to get over the barrier that many found of seeing someone so large and unnaturally pale.
Whilst holding the conversation with the nobles, the man's gaze seemed to be set on the Chief Adviser, though he was casually listening in to the conversations taking place around the Queen.
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Post by Betta the Overseer Panda on Oct 25, 2015 15:59:23 GMT -6
The festival was soon joined by several other parties, including a parade of bickering humans in wool tunics, trousers, leather boots, heaped with furs, obviously noble clansmen from the tribes of Lotharea, and, following behind, close to a foot or more shorter than the rowdy humans, a column of dwarves from the Kingdoms of Ur, eyeing each other and the others with the suspicious, small eyes of their race. The King of Loreath was not expected, as per usual,
King Illuvatar Lunaris, of the Western Valar Kingdom of Ea, strode in to the Solar, standing tall, adorned in gaudy outfit of flowing green silks adorned with gold, tied to his body with an orange sash. His shoulders were decorated by a set of loose, feathery epaulets, from the plucking of eagles. Upon his head, a simple golden circlet, coming together at a union around his long, straight white hair at the center of his forehead in a gentle flourish. His chin point slightly upwards, the proud, xenophobic border-king looking down disdainfully at the dwarves and humans attending the feast. Commanding an alliance with the merchant kingdom of Illyath, he was powerful, wealthy, but also overworked, as the duty of guarding the borders of the Valar world often fell to him. He was flanked by a trio of guards, all cloaked in simple green robes, their arms, and their weapons, hidden beneath the folds of their clothing.
Close behind the King of Ea and his trio followed a tall, armored man, his head bent down, an unstrung longbow at his back, escorting a small child by hand. The Rangers of the Western March were often tall, strong Valar men, all sun beaten and scarred, often time outcasts of society that had fled to the western reaches of Ea to seek refuge and work among the ranks of the Kingdom's defenders. Eldor Sunspear was no exception to this stereotype. He was slightly above the average height for an elf, scarred, and well tanned, his brown hair pushed back and under his helmet, flowing out from the nape of his neck. He was a nobleman by birth, but mysterious circumstances had seen him flee to the west, quickly becoming the Watchman of the Rangers, tasked with repelling the barbarian incursions into the Valar kingdoms.
The child was none other than the four year old motherless prince of Ea himself, Malacath, dressed in a similar fashion to his father, with shorter, light brown hair just reaching his neck, yet seeming awkwardly out of place in it, looking curiously up with big brown eyes like a overawed toddler at a circus at the strange creatures that attended the feast.
The King of Eunor, Dale Iudamar proceeded from behind him, dressed in ceremonial plate armor up to his neck, a lime green cape fastened around his neck by a simple steel broach. His blonde hair spilled out over his eyes as he removed his gaudy helmet, brushing it out of his sly, bright green eyes with a gloved hand. He was followed by two servants, dressed in lime green robes, who he quickly waved away with his open hand as he strode over to greet the Queen.
"Queen Sa'al, what an honor it is," said King Dale, smiling broadly, performing a short bow. "Blessings of the divine Light upon you, and this feast. Do you fare well?" The King put on a display of propriety in this court, knowing that their Kingdoms were at odds. He, in truth, like most of the other Kings, despised the bastard Queen, but knew her power, and sided closely with his neighbors for protection. His Kingdom was robust, but offered little resource, drained heavily from years of warfare, and he knew his position was weak.
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Post by Bernie Sanders on Oct 26, 2015 8:26:58 GMT -6
The Varangian stood in the command room, barking quick commands to both Guard and Servant. The Command Room was simply a spare room that had been refurbished for the event so as to properly allow those in charge to allow the events to run more smoothly. In the middle of the room, there was a small, elegantly carved round table and around it The Varangian and the Lieutenants as they used to maintain the report and supply systems of The Guard.
The newest batch of reports had not been good, and it was evident as The Varangian stood, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose as he sighed out in frustration.
"Captain" the lieutenant reported in with a salute "In the fair grounds a small riot broke out, the guard are working to subdue it. Several brawls between the dwarves have resulted in the wounding of one, however this was also quickly dispersed by the Guard. Several of our own clansmen who have traveled this way in a Raiding stop have begun a new drinking game amongst the Dwarves and Vakirans which is requiring more Guard for monitoring due to the probability of conflict."
"Is that all?" Replied The Varangian.
"Nearly, Sir. The Vakiran Ambassador is at conflict with the Chief Assistant, and the King of Ea has arrived." The lieutenant finished, dropping his salute.
"Understood, good job handling the dwarven fight. Take men from the reserve forces and place them into the festival grounds." The man quickly paused, "Allow the drinking game. Let our brothers prove that the Northmen are superior." he said with a smirk, "But at the first sign of trouble crack down."
"And the Chief Assistant and Vakiran, Sir?" said the lieutenant, gesturing for some of the reserve guard in the room to move.
"I was heading back to the Queen anyway, I can handle it personally." He replied as he quickly marched out of the room, the clinking of his armor heard down the long hallways muttering to himself, "cinothing elves."
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Post by Dunce on Oct 27, 2015 6:41:08 GMT -6
Sa'al looked towards the younger man, noting the fact that he was from Khazad with some surprise. She certainly didn't expect a region as 'barbaric' as Khazad to actually respond to her open invitation, let alone send such an educated individual. She broke into her usual, disconcerting smile.
"It's a pleasure. Von Khrahnn was it? Tis' quite unusual for Khazad to send me any sort of representatives, if you don't mind me saying. Regardless, take a seat, enjoy yourself. It is, after all, a time for celebration."
The young elf at the dessert table slowly chewed what appeared to be some form of candied fruit, watching as the King of Eunor strode in. His previous mannerisms seem to have been washed away in favor of something much more stoic and serious. He found himself setting the apple aside, brown eyes fixed on the vibrantly dressed Valar stronzo maiale. Something about his behavior and the way he carried himself had set off some sort of alarm within the Chief Assistant. Something deeply concerning.
He felt himself drifting away from the discarded candied fruit platter, towards the solar, brushing past the Norman Guard as he headed towards a small side room near the main hall: his room. A few minutes of searching in what appeared to be a satchel filled with weaponry and armor produced two throwing knives, each tipped with what appeared to be a series of glowing purple ruins: Magi-Tech.
"Last resort," he muttered to himself as he slid then into the bowels of his coat, "I promise, Sa'al..."
With that taken care of, he headed back outside, grinning in his usual sly demeanor.
"I return!" He announced to nobody in general, before returning to his candied fruits.
Meanwhile, Sa'al made note of the King of Ea and company. Valuable assets, no doubt, as they keep unneeded threats away from the other Valar kingdoms. She gave a brief nod to them as they walked by, flashing her trademark smile. Her eyes drifted to the prince. Perhaps a worthy ally in the future, should she need to cause disarray in Ea, but a guest for now.
Things began to grow considerably more foul to her, however, as the King of Eunor approached. She mused to herself the slur Ma'va would often use when referring to him: stronzo maiale. She never assumed he was one to fornicate with pigs.
"Ah, King Dale. A pleasure in times of peace and a nuisance in times of war. I trust you will make yourself comfortable, while you are here? We only offer the finest of food and drink here, surely fitting to your tastes."
Nontraditional at best, Sa'al took great delight in being passive aggressive.
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Post by Bernie Sanders on Oct 27, 2015 6:52:34 GMT -6
The Varangian entered the room, eyeing the Khazadii suspiciously as he did. Giving the Queen a quick nod, he returned to her side, far enough away where he wouldn't be in the way while at the same time close enough so if something were to happen he could quickly reach her and keep her safe.
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Post by Sir Cox on Oct 27, 2015 7:45:09 GMT -6
"Ah, yes, it was surprising for me as well. However, when the Prima'Laer Maghali and the Council tell you to attend as a representative you go quickly. Besides I love the outside world, the Khazad'Dun only offers so much but the world offers much more", He said quickly to the Queen, ignoring the butchering of his name, as a bowing out of conversation from her and he slinked slowly away from her.
Then he saw the Norman Guard. He felt the eyes of the blonde haired brute. Not so much different than the Nordum except perhaps in manner and reform. He hated the stare. If not for his mask he might have given away his unbridled rage consuming his thoughts at the thought of a lowly barbarian looking down upon him.
He quickly strided to the Norman guard and stared at him. "What are you on about?", he said in a vitriolic filled voice as he tried to afix the hardest stare he could upon the man. "Laer Rodrick vom Krahnn, at your service", he said slowly, "and who might you be?"
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Post by Bernie Sanders on Oct 27, 2015 7:57:56 GMT -6
The Varangian only seemed to raise an eyebrow at the remark staring down at the man with a smirk, his eyes unchanging and uninterested in the other man. It was evident that the man was angry, and The Varangian had dealt with enough foreigners and Khazidii to know that it would not end well if he didn't prepare. "I don't speak savage." he responded in a fractured version of the other mans language. In more fractured speak he continued, "Now leave me be or I will be forced to remove you from the area." gesturing for three nearby guards to come over, while putting his left hand in the air with two fingers, alerting the bowmen on the balcony to prepare themselves. With his right hand, he unlatched the cover of his sword, resting his hand on its pommel waiting for the other mans response.
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Post by Sir Cox on Oct 27, 2015 12:49:43 GMT -6
"Savage", he said slowly switching to Old Valar before quickly finishing with, "I just asked your name and introduced myself. Calm down, I'm a guest here and you reminded me of my kinsman from the Nordum." He thumped his chest causing a metallic ringing smiling beneath his mask at the barbarians threat.
"But seeing that you just want to offend and threaten guests, I'll go find company that isn't so volatile", he said turning on his heel with a smattering of laughter. "Good day unto you, Norman", he said raising his hand in a symbol of departure to join the feast.
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