|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 Posted: Wed Jan 30, 2008 8:58 pm
[Setting]
Anshainda'ar: in the Ancient Tongue, meaning "Tears of the Sun"; the Kingdom where the light always shines golden. But deep within the white shinning walls of the Royal Palace, shadows shimmer in corners, whispering poison and treachery. The old King, Killian the Lionhearted, passed on four years hence when he suffered from what was declared a heart-attack, during an afternoon of hunting with several lords and his two sons. His grieving widow was left to rule his people and his court.
But in times where power can be seized by any willing to take it, old loyalties are not as strong as they once were, and ancient adversaries find their desire for revenge revived as opportunity presents itself. Some remain loyal to the Queen and the rightful heirs to the throne. Some lust for the throne themselves, and plot their conquest from the shadows behind false smiles.
One question remains: Which side will you choose?
[This is a medieval Europe roleplay setting, with no historical basis other than similarity of atmosphere. No magic, no technology, no fantasy races; just petty humans scrabbling for power in a world where people are driven by varying degrees of greed and loyalty. Specifically, it is set in the fictional kingdom of Anshainda'ar, within the Royal Palace.
Roam the halls, talk with members of the court and their underlings, uncover plots or forge your own. Make enemies and allies, and decide the future of the Anshainda'arian throne.]
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
[Thread Rules]
1. Behave yourself according to Guild rules. No being naughty. wink
2. This is a roleplay, not a Nazi grammar camp, but please try to be literate. If I'm giving you my best effort, I wanna see yours in return. 3nodding
3. Respect your fellow players; even if your character's don't get along, it doesn't mean you can't. Let's be adults, shall we? wink
4. Any questions, concerns, or complaints, should be PM'd to me for review/resolution. On that note, what I say goes. Any decisions made on my part are final.
5. PM your character profile to me for approval. DO NOT POST UNTIL I HAVE POSTED YOUR PROFILE IN THIS THREAD AND GIVEN YOU THE GO AHEAD TO BEGIN ROLEPLAYING.
6. THE GOLDEN RULE: Have FUN!! biggrin
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
[Profile]
This must be PM'd to me for approval before you post!
Name: Your character's name.
Played By: Your Gaia screen name.
Title: Your character's title**
Physical Appearance: A description of your character's appearance, and/or any relevant artwork.
Allies: Who are your friends?
Enemies: Who are your foes?
Biography: A brief character history should go here. Think about what events shaped your character's mindset.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
[**Titles/Positions]
Queen: widowed Ruler of the Realm - taken
Princes of the Realm: sons of the Queen - 2 slots available
Captain of the Guard: Captain of the Queen's Guard - taken
Ladies-in-Waiting: ladies of noble birth who serve the Queen - 5 slots available
Lords and Ladies: members of the royal court - unlimited; we'll discuss your title at the time of application(also see below).
Foreign Dignitaries: lords, ladies, princes or princesses of foreign lands - available upon request/discussion
Knights of the Realm: those who have been granted Knighthood - 3 slots available
Court Bard: a player of great skill who entertains the court - 1 slot available
Court Players: also players of talent, who aid the Bard in performances - 3 slots available
Guardsmen/women: highly skilled soldiers, supposedly loyal to the Queen - unlimited
Servants: those who serve the nobility, often as spies or agents - unlimited
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
[Heirchy of Nobility]
From those highest in power, to lowest:
- Her Majesty, the Queen: servant of all, but subservient to none.
- The Princes of the Realm: subservient only to the Queen.
- Captain of the Guard: subservient to the Queen first, and the Princes second.
- Lords and Ladies of the Noble Houses, based on title:
Duke/Duchess: large estates with several homes and holdings; many servants.
Count/Countess: medium estates, with a single large home; modest amount of servants.
Baron/Baroness: small estates with perhaps a manor house; few servants.
- Knights: those who have attained Knighthood, and been granted holdings.
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Jan 30, 2008 8:59 pm
[Character Profiles]
Name: Lorna, to those with permission to call her such.
Played By: Tarma_Falloner
Title: Queen of the Realm; Lady of House Charnd.
Physical Appearance: Stately in bearing, the beauty of Lorna's youth has not faded with the years. Ebony waves flutter to waist-length when not bound up by one of her Ladies-in-Waiting, making her milk-pale complexion seem all the more luminous in contrast. Bright, intelligent eyes of a gray-blue hue seem as capable of staring down the Gods themselves as they are of reflecting the laughter that spills often from her rosebud mouth; she can appear warm and kind, just easily as she can be regal and commanding.
Biography: Raised within one of the more powerful noble Houses, Lorna entered into an arranged marriage with Killian as a young woman, and until his untimely death had served with all loyalty and faithfulness in her capacity as both his wife and subject. She bore him two sons, of whom she is immeasurably proud. Since the Kings death, she has ruled Anshainda'ar with a kind, but firm, hand in an attempt to do her late husbands memory proud. So far, she has not chosen to remarry, despite pressures from the Court to do so.
Name: Gwendolyn [Gwen]
Played By: Tarma_Falloner
Title: Lady of House Charnd; Cousin to the Queen.
Physical Appearance: Slim, and modest in demeanor, Gwen is the rose bud to Lorna's vibrant lily in bloom. With eyes the color of the grass after a spring rain and wheat-toned hair that curves straight and golden to flirt with her jawline, she's more than attractive, but not the striking beauty that is her cousin.
Allies: Queen Lorna; others unspecified.
Enemies: Unknown.
Biography: Growing up as a noblewoman of House Charnd alongside Lorna, Gwen regards her cousin as more of a sister. Never jealous of her cousin's superior beauty or position, she serves as a Lady-in-Waiting, apparently quite happy to play friend and confident to the Queen. She is also, as yet, unmarried.
Name: Sir Gregory, Knight of House Charnd
Played By: Pizzasage
Title: Knight-Captain of the Royal Guard
Physical Appearance: Sir Gregory is not a striking man, although he is handsome in his own way, with a strong jaw and clear, chiseled features. Still, though, his face betrays him: He is of commoner stock. His unruly, dirty blond hair and hazel eyes alone are enough to point to his heritage in the Northern provinces, and the scars of dozens of battlefields show on his face when he is tired or deep in thought. Those who do not know his position or his history might be tempted to wonder what he is doing at the Queen's court at all...
Allies: Her Majesty Queen Lorna, the Princes and in fact all of House Charnd. Those who are loyal to the Kingdom are also his allies.
Enemies: Anybody who would threaten the safety and prosperity of the kingdom, its rulers and the public at large...
Biography: The life of a monarch is a lonely one, and King Killian had few friends. One of the chosen few was Sir Gregory. Sir Gregory started his career as a lowly foot soldier when the Kingdom was threatened by barbarian hoards. He left the farm where he grew up, took up a spear and fought. He quickly stood out on the field of battle, not due to his speed or his strength, but his cunning. Several times, he took control of a situation spiraling out of control and managed to turn it into a victory, or at least an orderly retreat. At the time, the future King Killian was a prince, and led the armies of the Kingdom on behalf of his father. Gregory came to his attention over and over again, and after the war the prince thought that perhaps this man might be useful. So Gregory became a man-at-arms in the service of the Prince. The two became friends over the years, and when Killian ascended to the throne, he knighted Gregory and placed him on his personal guard, saying that there were few in the world that he trusted more. Eventually, Sir Gregory became the captain of the palace guard. He misses his friend dearly, and rumor has it that he is not fully convinced that the death was mere accident...
Name: Hikari Ryuuzaki
Played By: nellchan13
Title: Guardswoman
Physical Appearance: Hikari is about 5'6". Her jet black hair reaches to around her waist, so she keeps in a ponytail. Most of the time her expression is blank, until someone makes her laugh or smile. Her hands almost never leave her sword hilt, so it is unwise to tick her off. Hikari is quick on her feet and is calm whenever there is danger. Hikari's emerald green eyes seem to have a sad look in them, even when she is happy. Most likely this is because of her past.
Allies: Unknown.
Enemies: Unknown.
Biography: At the age of 10, Hikari's family was killed in a fire. She does not remember this though. The shock of losing them caused her to lose her memory. What she does remember is waking up in the home of Kengo, who trained her. She lived with him for a few years, until going to train more at the age of 16 as a guardswoman. At 19, she has been serving for about 3 years.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Jan 31, 2008 2:41 pm
[Palace Layout]
Throne Room - dominated largely by a raised dias among marble pillars, where upon rests the Queen's throne. All petitioners are brought here for an audience before the Queen and her Court.
Grand Ballroom - usually closed, this room is opened only for feasts.
Great Hall - standard gathering room for meals. The Royal Family sits at a raised table at the back of the hall, perpendicular to the other long tables where other nobles arrange themselves by House or title.
Solarium - a glass-windowed enclosure filled with a veritable garden of hot-house plants. Benches and fountains are scattered about.
Palace Grounds - available if you feel like walking, ridding, or hunting.
Stables - where horses of the nobility and the guards all reside.
The Queen's Garden - restricted access; only those given specific permission may come here, and only when the Queen is in attendance.
North Wing - location of the sleeping and living quarters of the Royal family.
East Wing - location of the sleeping and living quarters of all other nobility, or guests of the Queen.
Kitchens - where all meals are prepared.
Servants Quarters - location of the sleeping and living quarters of servants.
Guards Barracks - location of the sleeping and living quarters of the palace guards, as well as the armory and practice yards.
The Temple - the state religion is polytheistic. Temples are set up to worship all the Gods, but individuals may direct prayers at whatever specific God is their patron deity.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Feb 01, 2008 12:08 am
Sunshine flooded through the domed, stained-glass ceiling of the Throne Room, making colored light dapple over the mosaic floor tiles inlaid to form the Royal Crest at the rooms center. Lorna watched them play with her chin resting lightly upon her knuckles, smiled quietly to herself as in her mind they moved in time to the melody drifting from the lute that sang under the fingers of a talented player. A servant bent a knee to offer her a goblet of wine, chilled to chase the summer heat away. Though she hesitated for a brief moment, she covered it smoothly in reaching for the wine. Eyes of midnight took in the faces of her courtiers lining the edges of the room, milling about talking in small groups and fluttering fans to dispel the warmth. She knew better than to trust, but she also knew that, like any hungry predator, they sensed fear as a weakness and used it.
So she sipped casually, outwardly confident and unafraid, before setting the goblet back on the servant's tray with a brief smile in thanks. Lorna made herself straighten her posture, though the heat made her feel ready to wilt. But there were duties yet to attend to. Taxes to levy, grain to trade, a people to feed; it never ended, the unglamorous tasks of those beholden. But it gave her something to put her time into, something that required a ruler's personal touch while simultaneously keeping her secret fears and griefs silent.
"I will hear the reports, now. You may send in the Master of the Ledgers."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Feb 03, 2008 5:13 am
Sir Gregory stood at his post in the throne room. Whenever the Royal court was in session, his place was there in the throne room. At the moment, he was standing a few steps from the dias, off to the left. This, as well as the opposite position to the right of the dias, was his favored place. He had a good view of the throne room, could see the courtiers as they approached the dias and he could reach the queen all but instantly should danger approach from an unexpected direction. Still, though, standing in one place was a poor idea. Predictability was the ally of the assassin, and Sir Gregory knew better than to offer advantages to an enemy. So he walked through the throne room, keeping to the edges. He was making no effort to stay hidden or be unnoticed. In fact, it was best if everybody at court was aware of his presence.
The faint rhythmic rustle of hand fans could be hypnotic, especially on such a hot day. Sir Gregory felt the heat, but he remembered riding to battle in full armor in such heat. After enduring that, walking through the throne room in the austere uniform of the Royal Guard was easy. As the Master of the Ledgers entered the throne room, knelt before the Queen and began to give his report, Sir Gregory was very glad that he had his duties to occupy his mind. The voice of the old scribe was low and monotonous. On a day like this, an unwary listener was at dire risk of being lulled off to sleep by it.
The day had been quiet so far, and Sir Gregory was not expecting trouble. Still, trouble was a guest who often arrived unannounced. And so he walked among the various nobles of the court. On rare occasion when one of them addressed him, he would invariably reply with polite words and a courteous bow, but he never lingered in a conversation for very long. Truth be told, he always felt rather set apart from the nobility. He lived in a very different world than they did. Still, there were exceptions. Friends with whom he would share kind words or a bottle of wine. His Majesty, the late King Killian came to mind...
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Feb 05, 2008 8:33 pm
The elderly man who served in the capacity of Master of the Ledgers had served two other rulers before her husband had sat the throne, and the long-lived fellow appeared determined to keep the position seized in his bony fist for the rest of eternity. And likely would, since it seemed it would take him that long to finish his reports. Though Lorna could somehow find energy to smile benignly and seem interested in the old coots words, that ability was currently beyond Gwen's patience; she blamed it on the weather. Even within the palace walls, the room was thick with heat, and even the quick flicks of her wrist that drove the folding fan in her right hand were not enough to cool her satisfactorily.
Her gaze wandered the room over her fan. The pale green lace matched the tone of her outfit, a silken gown that draped from her shoulders and clung there tenuously, with sleeves that came to points over the backs of her hands. Nothing form-fitting would be comfortable in this weather, and she had even briefly considered trading the silk for a light cotton weave till the though of the scandal at court had deterred her.
She was poised bellow the dais, close enough to the Queen to be the first at her side should she call, but far enough away to still mingle with the Court. Not that many of them were mingling at the moment; most were too atrophied by the infernal warmth. The only one in the room who really moved at all, other than the servants, was Sir Gregory. His uniform caught her eye as he made his rounds, an ever constant reminder of his position. It had always amused her how much position and status was conveyed through clothing.
As he passed by, she inclined her head with a modicum of respect; as much as he was due, and no more. To give less would offend him; to give more would offend many of her peers. Such a tangled web, this life of theirs, she mused.
"Sir Gregory."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Feb 07, 2008 2:21 am
Sir Gregory acknowledged the Lady's bow with one of his own, just a bit deeper than that which he offered to the other specimens of nobility he had encountered in the throne room. She was, after all, a Lady of his own house. The formalities of protocol occasionally grated on Sir Gregory, but he knew that to ignore them was to invite disaster. And, as Captain of the Guard, he often had more than enough disaster to contend with without making more of it.
"Lady Gwendolyn," he replied, "I see that even this infernal heat is not enough to wilt your radiance." As he spoke, he made sure to stand at the proper distance. Too close would imply a scandalous degree of friendliness. Too far would imply an equally scandalous feud between them. Proper distance, proper stance, a measured exchange of delicate thrusts and parries... Every conversation in court is like a duel, he thought to himself. It was not the first time that thought had crossed his mind.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Feb 07, 2008 8:28 pm
She recognized in him a similar ennui with this dance of protocol, and her small smile held perhaps a touch of understanding. It must be so different for him, she thought with equal parts fascination and uncertainty, a commoner come so far in the world. She, who's steps she had trod this path since the cradle so that it was practically habit, would have been an utter stranger to the ways of his people. It made her wonder if she would have succeeded half so well, having to start from scratch. This in turn made her wonder if the heat was getting to her mind after all; what a silly notion to be pondering!
Armed with her smile to answer the expected, ingenuine complement, Gwen flicked her fan absently, well aware that she was none of what he said. If the same had been offered to Lorna, of course it would be another matter. But Gwen had long ago accepted that she was no radiant beauty, no blushing damsel of fairness. Brains she had, and skill; she estimated that cleverness was far more valuable than beauty. And if at times she did wish men would at least be more honest with themselves, if not with her, well, there was no harm in it so long as it was not spoken aloud.
"Infernal indeed, Sir Gregory. We had a petitioner at the gates earlier who tried to petition her Majesty to make the rains return."
Dry humor warmed her green eyes as they met his.
"I felt rather guilty at having to dismiss him. The fellow seemed about as desperate as I feel."
She gave a soft sigh, no more than was expected of a lady. Her gentle gaze wandered over to the Master of Ledgers, and it took some self restraint to keep from snapping her fan shut in annoyance. The morning was slipping away, and there were matters that she wished to discuss with Lorna. But she did not forget herself, and was careful to keep her next comment low in volume.
"Tell me, are your duties as onerous as this rigmarole?"
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Feb 10, 2008 12:49 pm
As the reports wound their way to a dry and dusty conclusion, Lorna smiled slightly and nodded her thanks to the old man for his reports. He stood slowly while she took back her wine to sip, wetting her throat before she spoke.
"I shall draft that treaty with Mayen regarding the trade of the grain silos and have it delivered to you. Tell Fields Master Gareth that he is to continue with his plans for irrigation. Otherwise, I will leave everything else in your capable hands. You may go now, Master Len."
As the man was about to turn, she interjected an afterthought with a genuine smile.
"Oh, and tell Elspet that I was asking for her."
The man nodded and bowed his way out of the room. Lorna had known he and his wife a long time, and it was the personal touch with those who served you that built loyalty. The Gods only knew she needed to maintain a little loyalty just a few years longer...
Repressing a sigh, she cast about for...ah, there. Gwen and Sir Gregory stood talking together. Lorna watched them for a moment, then let her gaze roam the room again. Sir Gregory, her husbands most trusted friend, and her Captain of the Guard. But truly to be trusted also? Could she really depend on those who had loved her husband to transfer their allegiance to her? Or could she even trust that they had been all that faithful to Killian in the first place?
The Queen closed her eyes for a brief moment, taking respite from the never-easing pressure building in her head. Oh Gods Killian, I wish you were here to advise me... Opening her eyes once more, Lorna gestured to a servant to approach her.
"Gather my ladies. I would speak with them."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Feb 11, 2008 2:58 am
((Geez, I have some severe writer's block today.. ごめんあさい!!))
Sir Gregory smiled at the story of the petitioner. "Perhaps he would have more luck making an appeal to Sanhasran the rain bringer. Although even the lady of the silver bowl might hesitate to walk abroad on a day like today."
As the Master of the Ledgers continued to speak, Sir Gregory reflected that the stifling heat was in many ways similar to the enforced decorum of court. It was not without some relief that he matched the Lady's lowered tone.
"I must admit, court is as true a test of mettle as many a battlefield I have seen." He knew that it was best to limit the 'private chat' during court. One or two comments were safe, but more than that would mean whispers behind fluttering fans. Best to move on. It was an annoyance, but it came with the territory at court.
"Milady," he said with a bow, and moved to the next formulaic conversation... And not a moment too soon, it seemed. The queen was gathering the ladies of the court. The usually meant that the court was about to end for the day so that other business could be attended to. And that meant a change of scenery. Thank Han'rashain, from whose brilliance all good things come, he thought... although, it seems to be the warmth of his brilliance that we are fleeing at the moment...
As the court shifted and people moved here and there, he moved back to his favored spot off the dias and to the left, ready for any orders that might come his way.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Feb 11, 2008 11:45 pm
She watched him go from the corner of her eye while seeming to give her attention to the words of the servant who'd appeared at her side. Nodding in exchange for the summons from her Lady, Gwen closed her fan and lifted her skirts slightly so that she could ascend the steps of the dais without stepping on them. Reaching Lorna's side, she curtsied deeply and demurely, rising slowly one enough time had passed for the proper respect to be shown. Childhood friends or no, Gwendolyn could not allow herself to forget that Lorna was still a Queen.
"Majesty."
The Queen rose as the women collected about her, trying not to allow her eagerness to be out of this stuffy room show. A hush fell over the room, and Lorna took a moment to examine some of the faces in the crowd before she spoke. Poised and regal, even without the diadem on her brow she would have had little difficulty in commanding their attention. In some things, at least, she had strengths that did not come from her late husband's title.
"Court will disband for the remainder of the day. We will return for supper in the Great Hall."
Turning to face Gwen, Lorna gave a brief smile, and fell into step with her cousin as they made a stately procession towards the wide-flung double doors that framed the exit.
"I would adjourn to the Solarium, Gwen. I am behind in my correspondence, and would rather write it there than in my chambers."
Even in so isolated a position as this, she took care to keep her voice pitched low that only her Lady might hear. To all eyes, they appeared to be speaking of nothing that held consequence.
"Tell me, of what spake you and Sir Gregory?"
"Nothing of import, Majesty."
Gwen took care to look ahead, her smile just as careful and inconsequential as Lorna's. Her Queen must indeed be paranoid to broach the subject of a knight of their own House, a man trusted by her husband unto death, in a manner that suggested uncertainty of his loyalty.
"We spoke of the weather, mainly. I also get the impression that he finds Court politics dull."
Impressions. Impressions were useless to her! Any man could smile and charm, and give the impression of loyalty. And on the morrow, you awaken with a knife at your throat, held by the same man who professed his utter faithfulness the night before. Lorna almost sighed, for what seemed the thousandth time this day. It was in that manner that she had learned the hard lesson that a a Queen should not mistake herself for a lonely woman who might indulge in the friendship of a man for comfort. She had learned that a Queen had no friends, only subjects and enemies. And after that recent disaster, which had resulted in the arrest of a bribed guardsman and the death of a Lord, more than ever Lorna desired someone she could trust. Perhaps this risk might be one worth taking.
As they passed the spot where Sir Gregory stood vigil, Lorna motioned briefly with a summoning hand. Gwen kept beside her right shoulder, and her other ladies fell back to allow the soldier Captain an open place at the Queen's left.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Feb 12, 2008 7:05 am
There was a subtle art to observing the little things that transpired at court. Too much attention focused in any one area would give one away. Too little, and one might miss an important clue. It would be a lie to say that Sir Gregory enjoyed the layer upon layer of intricacy found in courtly affairs, but he had learned to navigate them well enough to perform his duty. Still, though, he felt alone among the crowd of nobility. It was among the plain speaking men and women of the guard that he felt most comfortable. There, the worth of a thing said was not measured by its echoes or hidden meanings, but by its effectiveness. If Ryuuzaki, for example, were hungry, she would go to the Palace guard's mess hall and say so plainly, and food would be provided. Sir Gregory missed such plain speech. He had grown up with it, and for all the years he had served the royal family, he had yet to truly feel at home in this world. In truth, that was always something he had admired in King Killian. The King was a man who could navigate the rarefied layers of courtly speech, and yet when the evening drew close and all the lords and ladies were in their beds or otherwise occupied with the myriad nighttime entertainments of court, he and Sir Gregory would open a bottle of old Northern wine from the vineyards near Sir Gregory's village, and they would drink and speak plainly together. That, more than anything, was something that Sir Gregory keenly missed.
Years of service had taught Sir Gregory how to indulge his own thoughts, yet be mindful of what was going on around him. When Queen Lorna's summons arrived, he bowed low in acknowledgment and fell into place beside her, and half a step behind. His Majesty King Killian had often spoken highly of his queen. He had often said that he had been smitten by her beauty, but fallen in love with her strength. Sadly, Sir Gregory did not truly appreciate the truth of his friend's words until after he was gone. For now, though, he banished his reminiscence, keeping his thoughts focused in the here and now. Such memories can kill an old campaigner as sure as any assassin's knife or foe's sword, he thought. Assembling the lieutenants of the guard will have to wait, not that they don't know what to do in my absence, of course, but I had looked forward to time amongst fellow commoners. No matter. Any business my Queen may have to discuss takes precedence.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Feb 12, 2008 11:50 am
The small collection of nobles moved silently through the halls. As they went, Lorna asked each Lady-in-Waiting to fetch something for her that she seemed to have forgotten: parchement and a favored quill from her rooms; a new ink bottle; her emobroidery hoop. Each Lady in turn curtseyed and drifted off on her errand till only the Lady Gwendolyn remained. Still the Queen did not speak untill they reached the solarium, and then it was to her cousin.
"Make certain we are alone."
Without hesitation, the Lady disapeared down the path, pausing to investigate large patches of vegetation with practiced thoroughness; it gave the impression that she had performed this task many times before. As her cousin finished the task, and gave a perfunct nod, Lorna eased shoulders that she had not known were held so stiff. Gods, she needed to take more care.
The Queen moved further into the Solarium, towards the center where taller palms and trees formed a shaded area. Fragrant wisteria climbed over an arching trellis, and Lorna bent to re-weave a rogue tendril of vine while she began to speak. Even now, she kept her voice pitched quietly.
"I will come to the point, Sir Gregory, as time is limited. My late husband Killian, the Gods bless his name, spoke highly of you. More highly, I think, than he spoke of his sons at times, and they were his greatest pride."
She straightened, fingertips brushing at a blossom with a tenderness that matched that in her voice when she spoke of her children's father, of her sons.
"If I do nothing else with what remains of my days, I must keep their throne for them. It is what Killian would have wanted."
The way she said it, the subtle emphasis of her words, made it sound as though she did not expect to live very much longer. Worse, she sounded resigned to her fate, as though it were the Gods will and she had no cause to fight against it.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Feb 16, 2008 11:31 pm
As the queen sent her attendant ladies away one by one, Sir Gregory quickly realized what was happening. There must be real business to discuss. The few remaining stray thoughts that he was entertaining were quickly banished as Sir Gregory brought his attention fully into the present.
He stood silent and at the ready as Lady Gwendolyn examined their surroundings and declared them to be clear. Such a proceeding made him slightly nervous, and he wondered what new emergency was in the works that, until that very moment, had been completely unknown to him.
He listened as she spoke and, when she spoke of the late king, Sir Gregory bowed his head. Unconsciously, his right hand strayed to his heart where he traced a tiny circle with his thumb. It was the sign of Han'rashain, the god of the sun, lord of light and patron of the kingdom and its royal family. Such gestures were more frequently seen amongst commoners, particularly soldiers, but Sir Gregory knew many knights who held to the old practice.
A troubled look crossed his face when she spoke of what remained of her days. Now we come to it, Sir Gregory thought. This is sure to be dark business indeed.
“It seems,” began Sir Gregory, choosing his words carefully, “That there is more in Your Majesty's words than is immediately apparent. Is there a threat of which I am presently unaware?”
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Feb 17, 2008 12:20 am
"No more than has been since my husbands untimely passing."
She could not keep the bitterness from biting her words, and had to force the tremble out of her voice. Lorna was tired of shedding tears and wringing her hands like a helpless maiden. No, she knew her place in life was shaky at best, that her life hung by a thread and that too-many lurked in the shadows who wished to snip it, but she'd be damned if she'd let it happen before she'd taken measures to ensure a proper succession. More important lives than her own were at stake.
"I have enemies, Captain, enemies abroad in other kingdoms, enemies here within my own...enemies among the peasants and enemies among the nobility. I know that my husband's fate will likely be my own. And though it frightens me, I cannot say that I have the means to prevent it, any more than I have the means to prove it."
She breathed deeply, exhaled shortly, and turned to look at him. Again her eyes raked over him, as though searching in desperation for proof that he was not among those enemies she spoke of. But there was no way to know; there was only Faith. Lorna offered a prayer silently before she spoke.
"What I can and will prevent, is the same fate befalling my sons. Even if I can be successfully removed, the Princes still carry Killian's blood; they are as much a target as I. And I will not have my sons murdered!"
Passion lit her face, seared beneath her words. In that brief moment, she regained the life and vigor that made her natural fairness into the beauty bespoken in awe across the five nations. She gave a fierce shake of her head, and returned to being just a woman bearing the weight of a crown.
"I need someone I can trust, someone I know beyond a doubt can protect and guide them. Since I lack that, I am placing my faith in Killian's judgment and trusting the one man that he trusted above any other. I need you, Gregory."
The use of his given name, soft and pleading, would have had scandal and rumor spreading like wildfire through the court, but Lorna was too weary to care. At the moment, she was not a queen addressing her vassal; she was a woman, and a mother, afraid for her children, and in dire need of someone to lean on.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Reply
