Trial of Kings (literate medieval fantasy) Closed

[K33LA]

ıllıllı Leonora Einjarssen, Lady of Crasus ıllıllı

A slightly relaxed air overtook Leonora in Lina's presence, and the noblewoman lost some of her rigidity. Leonora wasn't sure if her advisor reserved such biting sarcasm for her, yet she never heard the woman speak to others as such. Yet their public life together was much different than their private life. Somewhat friends, somewhat not. They helped one another.

"I have gone on no rampages just yet, but there is time for that. Heaven knows I'll have a scimitar to my throat soon enough if things continue to go so sourly with the Zashik, and we've barely exchanged two words. Or he has, at least; he is not the most forthcoming individual. I must admit I find his wife rather intriguing. She appears far more agreeable than her husband, though I cannot be certain as of yet whether she will be ally or foe. Women are often harder to read, but you know this well," Leonora finished, a hint of a smirk playing at her lips. She moved across the room, her skirts swishing, and she sat in a fat chair adjacent to her advisor. Leonora closed her eyes and took a beat to breathe; she wanted to sigh and massage her temples, but she rather hated portraying any hint of frustration or weakness in the presence of others.

"I need a kingdom, Lina," she answered. "Preferably this one. I need whatever intelligence you can gather; I know most of my rivals rather well, though I have little and less to use against them. Or to win them over, even. Oh, certainly some will fall in line the more I flatter and flaunt certain... assets, but... Victory is in the details, Lina. You are, as always, free to do as you wish. But if you were to be mistaken for a serving girl during your time here and listen in on a few private conversations, I would not be cross with you." Leonora smoothed her dress, feeling the cool, quality fabric beneath her fingertips. She laid her eyes on Lina and drunk in the sight of her. "Your hair is always so wild, girl. It would look so lovely braided up. Oh, but your appearance has always been rather exotic for Crasus. I suppose that is alluring enough itself. One day, however, you'll have to humor me and allow me to play dress-up with you," she joked, chuckling. That would certainly never happen.


Cold white skin, she's as pure as an angel;
A vision of a maiden with a touch of the devil;
Cold hands upon you sink into your core;
She's pure as the driven snow, I'm sure

[Kadorix]

D'kατн σғ τнε Sωαmp
Location: Dock of a small Tishtar town | Company: Fon and Eckhart

How useful indeed that the piece of prey before him knew something of the lyre. Perhaps Elias’ words could be trusted and many in Tishtar knew of its existence. If that was the case, then this hunt would be far easier than D’kath expected. The man before him said just as much, describing the trinket as a legend of sorts for the softskins. Not an item for hunting, or something the Tribe would find worthy of tales, but let the softskins have their noisemakers.

The hunter paid close attention to the man’s words, curious at the mention of another softskin who might know more. A most fruitful hunt then for him to find this prey! Perhaps the man would live yet, depending on how useful this other man could be. If not, a feast fit for Ka’reth awaited him with these two Tishtar softskins. ”Bring me to this softskin, then. He will serve.” The more he knew of his prey the better, and the quicker he could be on to the next hunt. Who knew if others from the castle were here? It wasn’t as though D’kath thought them a threat, but he would much rather save his energy for prey worth hunting.

”Very well.” The crocodile submerged below the water, and swam towards the back of the small craft. He rose shortly, letting only his head rest above the surface. ”Paddle fast, softskin. Change course and you will pay with your life.” He gave one last threat to the man’s life before falling silent for the swim to town.

The man proved reliable so far, leading the small wooden craft to the dock of a small Tishtar settlement upon the river. He watched as his prey landed and docked, before following the man. The sudden emergence of a beast from the river sent many a softskin in a panic, either shrieking in terror or grabbing their weapons. He watched them, a soft hiss escaping as he followed alongside the riverman. No softskin would die today, so as long as they kept away. Those who acted foolish deserved an early death. Such was the price to pay for a weak hunter.

Luckily, the softskins at the docks were kept at bay by his prey’s words. Whatever reassurances spouted were lost upon D’kath, so as long as it did not interfere with his task. One softskin, however, had the courage (or foolishness) to step from the crowd towards the pair from the river. The piece of prey spoke to the riverman, calling him some sort of name. A familiar face to his prey? The look upon the softskin’s face was strange, though in truth they always wore such strange faces. Was the man out of breath, or simply worn out by his own foolishness?

”Back away, softskin.” He growled, watching the fumbling man. A man in such a state could be dangerous indeed, though the man did not appear to be armed. Caution still made the hunter wary, and with so many softskins around it would do best to not cause a scene. His lord had commanded as much. D’kath turned to the man, Fon as the newcomer called him. ”Is this the one you spoke of? He seems weak.” The creature’s head turned back to the man before them, and the hungry eyes narrowed in doubt. ”You are sure he is of use?”

[Noble Ambition]

xxxxxxxxxxxLord Noah Albrechtxxxxxxxxxxx

From what he could take from the gathering he was not in the slightest surprised by what any of the other Lords were gifting the festival. Of all of the nobles of the land he was most impressed by Lady Einjarssen, although he held his beliefs firmly concerning the role of women he couldn’t help but being impressed by the Lady. He despised her holding that positon but at the same time had trouble taking his eyes off of her when she talked. He had never been faced with such a troublesome woman before. He was conflicted as to what he thought about her and was always at odds with himself when speaking with her. At the very least he found her appealing and was always interested in speaking with her alone, whether that was to see if he could conquer the lady or because he was generally interested in her was yet to be seen. Smirking as she spoke he chuckled to himself as the Lords continued on and finished their offerings.


Not bothering to humor anyone by eating the meal provided to him he kept himself on a fairly strict diet. In the troubled time having the option to eat the food he wanted to was a luxury that anyone rarely was granted. Yet he was concerned with keeping his aging body in the best shape possible. It was rare for people to live much longer than he was and that was something that really worried him, dying outside of battle would be a massive disappointment. As the others began to make their way from the hall he was approached by the Lord of Edenmoor, it seemed he hadn’t had enough the last time they had spoke. They certainly hadn’t finished on a very good note, so he was curious as to just what the Lord wanted from Albrecht.

As Alec left the room he was followed not long after by the Lord of Fovoham. He was glad he was able to catch him before he got too far from the room. “Do you wish to attempt to embarrass me once again? Or do you finally have something productive for me? I have little time to waste with mindless banter surely you understand.” Not wanting to be rude he was simply trying to convey the fact that he had a lot to do to prepare, bringing his guard here would be a large task. He knew that the other lords wouldn’t appreciate that and creating the tension between the other Lords and himself would be something that Noah would thrive on.
.

[General Phade]

※ Fon Bel Baragaros ※
Bard ※ Ferryman ※ Ladies’ Man

׺°”˜`”°º× ׺°”˜`”°º×

The trip to town had been... tenuous, to say the least. Paddling along knowing there was one monster of a reptile swimming behind you watching every move you made was by far the most nerve-wracking experience of Fon's life. War might have been terrible, and men horrifying in their actions and ability to act in such malicious ways toward one another, but a beasty with a mouth full of ivories each as long as Fon's hand? That was something else entirely. Plus, the old bard wasn't in any hurry to get acquainteed with the croc's jaws.

Overly aware of his motions as he paddled along, Fon had to wonder how he'd managed to get himself into this mess. He'd intended to spend the day lazing about and fishing, just like all the rest. Escorting a living mouth was nowhere on his to-do list. Not even near it. But if all this... oh, stars, what had he called himself? Fon was vaguely aware this beastie had referred to himself as Duh-something or other. Too bad Fon didn't rember what it was.

Still, somehow he doubted the giant crocodile would really mind; it seemed like more of a one-track mind beast. Which meant all he had to do to stay alive was keep the thing focused on that mythical lyre. That was the challenge.

Arriving in town, he kept his head down, holding onto the brim of his hat and keeping it over his eyes as he hurriedly tied up his little dingy. It wasn't until the croc decided to show himself that things got interesting. Panicked faces all around, not that Fon could blame them. To his delight, though, one of those faces was actually familiar.

"Eckhart!" The ferryman hurried forwarr and gave the younger man. "Keep your wits, boy," he whispered. "For both our sakes." He gave Eckhart a clap on the shoulder and looked back to his so-called "friend." "Not all strength is strength of body, my toothy friend. This is Eckhart. His strength is in his mind." He tapped a meaty finger against his temple. "If anybody can keep you informed about Fanoram's Lyre, it's him. Ah, yes. Introductions."

Would have been a lot easier if Fon knew the beasty's name.

Time to wing it.

"Eckhart, this is Smiley. Smiley, Eckhart. Smiley here is looking for Fanoram's Lyre. So, let's play nice, now; we're all in this together."

[ThetaNine]

Lina Asta

tab The small look of surprise that streaked across Leonora’s face, made an unexpected smirk appear on Lina’s. She quickly shut her features back into her usual pleasant set, not as to avoid upsetting Nora, but out irritation from letting her composure fail. People never take emotional girls seriously; with the exception of prostitutes and queens, in which case, everyone took too seriously. Lina found a straight face could never convey the wrong intentions, which usually made people bored. Unsurprisingly, if people found her boring, they usually found themselves leaving.

tab Leonora’s reply of trouble with the Zashik was unexpected. They had been in the castle for far less than a fortnight, and they already couldn’t play nice. To make it even better Nora remarked that they barely communicated. Lina was impressed, for a man who had more wives than fingers on a hand, he ignored cleavage better than pope might have. Or possibly, that is why he didn’t say anything. Better to keep his options open she supposed. The wife however, was the real problem. Lina had seen her around and wasn’t surprised when Nora shared her uncertainty about how the wife would side. Crasus was far removed from the physical hostility, but ultimately played a part in the war with the rest of Esidi. But the physical distance of the two countries could be an asset, as there really was nothing like a sandwich of allies, especially of two of such different varieties. Leonora’s remark on how women were harder to read was worrying to Lina. She had learned how to read people from Nora, and although she had gotten quite good, Nora’s piercing eyes always seemed to peel back one more layer with humans. She would tell Nora her superiority, but it would help, and it would go to her ego, of which Nora had quite enough of. Instead she stuck with a taciturn reply.

”And that’s why you’ll always find a woman behind every man’s decision.”

tab Lina followed Leonora to the chairs, one of which Nora sunk into. Of course still with perfect poise, but the deep breath and lowered shoulders betrayed the stress. Lina had to admit that the chairs here were comfier than her native library, but it showed the lack of use this library received. She listened patiently while Leonora outlined her goals. She had heard enough around the castle without being a serving girl to know that things could explode quicker than she could get out. Especially the rumored arrival of Fovoham's elite guard to increase them, because the present amount skull heads in a small castle wasn’t enough of a problem.

tab ”I’ll figure out how to blend in, but I’ll need a few things from you, including a bit of money. Possibly your horse.” Of course that was the biggest snag with her plan, as Leonora adored the thing. With the right beat up tack and dirt smudges, Nora’s horse could pass for that of the region or close to, unlike Mr. Fluffy who would be a big red Crasusian flag. Shifting gears, Lina mulled over the incoming men problem,”What do you know of the incoming soldiers? The rumors I’ve heard, so far, all add up making me assume it’s less of a rumor than should be thought. I'm assuming most are firmly allied with Fovohom, but do you suppose the entire elite guard is of the region? Perhaps we could use the incoming ninnies to increase the tension between the Zashik and Lord Albrecht, pushing Shahszhan right into Crasus' somewhat hairy arms?“

tab Lina balanced her chin on her fingers in concentration. Pushing the shady hair out of her eyes she scanned the library once again. I’ve heard talk of a quest with the prize of a throne. I, of course, previously dismissed this, but your comments on how you needed this kingdom and had rivals has changed my mind. So who are we up against?

[General Phade]

ℍ𝔸ℝ𝕄ʘℕ இ ℙ𝕐ℍℝℕ

♦ 𝔾єო 𝕎ιząяđ ♦

Met with a quip, Harmon shook his head. It had never been particularly difficult to figure out why the cats had slacked in their mousing, though hearing the truth admitted--roundabout as it was--somehow made the moment better. At the mention of his appearance, what had been of the wizard's little smile faded. Not out of offense, but apathy toward the matter. "It can get rather exciting, all those books and gems. Speaking of which, I witnessed some fluctuations in a few of them over the past few days. Safe to bet the king's little game has officially begun outside the walls, as well as within."

Harmon watched as Cameron's features darkened at the news, most prominently and expected at the mention of Shahszhan and Fovoham's offerings and what they would mean for him. The wizard did not envy his friend the position or predicament, and he made a haphazzard comment as such that sparked anger in the captain. His lips pressed together, Harmon stood firm as Cameron let loose with his frustration. He deserved it, honestly, and the perk of having next to no feelings was that words and actions like these had no bearing on his emotional stance whatsoever. Rationally, it only made sense for Cameron to snap as he had, and so the wizard neither flinched nor bore him ill will.

Soon enough the captain reigned himself in, as he always did, and offered a playful challenge. "Is that right? Well, as any scholar knows, a claim is just that without sufficient evidence to prove its validity. When you are ready for your theory to be disproved, my quarters will be open to you." He almost went to offer to accompany the captain, though soft steps had him turning with hands folded in his sleeves.

Gliding along the garden path, the Lady of Shahszhan drew near. She stopped a few paces from the two of them and gave a small little bounce of sorts and a nod of her head in greeting.

Harmon gnawed on the inside of his lower lip. The lady, but no lord. Just the lady. The woman. Gods above, why just the woman?

Pull it together, Harmon. She's the king's guest, after all. Straightening himself up, the wizard gave the desert woman a bow.

"Greetings, Lady Nabahag... Ehm..." He stole an uncomfortable glance at Cameron. Unwilling to disgrace himself by butchering her name in her very presence, Harmon cleared his throat and went for something simpler. "Er, L-Lady Shahszhan."

Her shoulders raised just a little, and her veil tugged just enough at the edges to signify her silent chuckle. "Greetings to you as well, Sir Harmon. Please, if Na'Bahanagad is too harsh upon your tongue, you may call me Zasha."

Harmon felt himmself flush. Why? Why was it always so hard to talk to women? He shifted nervously before realizing the Zasha was actually doing the same, though her gaze flitted not to him, but to Cameron. Perhaps she sensed his malcontent.

"You've nothing to fear," Harmon assured her. "You are a guest of His Majesty, and all of us who serve him will treat you with the utmost respect."

"Of that I am certain. But..." She sighed and closed her eyes for a moment before fixing them upon him. "Forgive me, Sir Harmon, but I wish to speak with captain." Her gaze drifted over to Cameron. "If he will hear me."

Harmon glanced between them, uncertain what to make of the situation, but feeling very much like an unwanted guest. Then again, he wasn't particularly keen on lingering around the wife of what seemed to be a very, very angry man. "I'm certain he'd be glad to. If you'll excuse me..." And with a quick glance to his friend and another bow to the Zasha, he excused himself, sweeping away to wait at the entrance of the garden.

With the captain's permission, the Zasha spoke.

"I understand Shahszhani presence upsets you, so I shall strive to be brief. I would not dare entertain the idea that you do not see the dangers of having my people in the same space as the personal guard of the Lord of Fovoham. She gazed up at the captain, so much taller than and far more intimidating, but she kept her gaze firm and unwavering. "It is my understanding the lord and his guards were very... prominent, during the war. My people would not have forgotten, just as I am sure you and your comrades will never forget those who wrought such devastation upon you." She folded her hands together to keep from reaching for him--she had the distince impression he would not take kindly to such a gesture.

"Those who will come from Fovoham are seasoned warriors. Those who will come from the desert are but performers. I am afraid for them. I am afraid of the dangers the face crossing the desert. I am afraid of what prejudices they might face when stepping into Fovoham. I am afraid of what they might encounter attempting to reach this castle. But mostly, I am afraid of what the coming of these two groups of people will mean for us all. This peace, fragile as it is, must hold. For the sake of both our nations.

"If... If one of Shahszhan's performers were to be cornered or bullied by one of Fovoham's knights, he would undoubtedly try to defend himself. Something as small as that could revive the horrors of ten years past. And if war were to come again, it would be the end of Shahszhan. But we are a proud people, Captain, and we would not go quietly. A scar even greater than the last would be left upon Esedi, as men desperate for survival often resort to more drastic and unpredictable measures.

"I realize it is unfair to ask this of you, but... I beg you, protect my people from the knights of Fovoham." She lifted her gaze once again, finding his and hoping against hope to convey her earnesty to him. "And if the thought sickens you to your very core, I understand, but then I would beg you to think of it as defending your country, to spare more the horrors that you and my Zashik and countless others faced such a short time ago." The horrors so many people still faced even now. Herself among them, every time she passed that room, or when she realized it was her second son beside her at the table during meals, trying to fill a gap he simply couldn't.

Blinking back the tears that threatened to form, the Zasha took a step back and bowed her head to the captain. "Shahszhani are loyal. If ordered not to engage with those of Fovoham in any way, they will obey. My Zashik and I will see that they behave. But this is one battle that neither Shahszhan nor Esedi can win on their own. If we, your people and mine, are to survive, if this festival is to have any chance of perhaps mending the rift between our lands, we must work together.

"Please, Captain Elkhurst," said the Zasha, bowing low. "In the interest of peace, help us."