Print

Please login or register.
1 Hour 1 Day 1 Week 1 Month Forever
Login with username, password and session length

[Dragor23]

Theor raised his goblet too... It's a demand and a custom to do so. He shouted too "Long live King Albert of Windheath, the North and South united!" Then he proceed to down the goblet. He need a lot more of alcohol to get trough this ceremony. "May he lead us to new and prosperous times, in peace, in war and in victory!" Okay, enough butt-kissing, he didn't want too much brown-nosing.

[Criptfeind]

Henry raised his goblet and smiled, cheering with the rest of the crowd. He quietly brought the cup to his lips and drank lightly. It might be a long night and he would need to be clearheaded on the morrow.

[Skyrunner]

Rasgar went towards the king. He bowed deeply, and said,
"Long live the King, and may his reign last. As your Majesty may know, I am Burminac Rasgar, duc de Dechire, and I shall affirm to your Majesty that Dechire is behind the throne, and shall stay behind it. It would be pleased to participate in the navy, especially against the Haegar threat."

Straightening again, he waited for a response, if any, from the King. He hazarded a glance to the side, where some of the nobles were toasting the King, then quickly returned his gaze to the King again.

[Dwarmin]

Albert rubbed his chin. Rasgar was known for his skillful pontificating against the Haegar threat (it was his city that burned when the raiders came, so didn't fault him that), and his skill at naval combat-but, up till now, his mixed heritage had kept him from any serious advancement, at least in the eyes of the crown. It was exactly the thing Albert hoped to correct.

"Indeed, Duc Rasgar-the Haegar will never truly leave us be. It is their way to test the strength of others, to apply pressure upon them now and again, and see how they react. I trust when the time comes, we will have good men like you to push back.

Also, while I'm certain I have a paper here or there that gives me a rough estimate of our fleets strength, I'd prefer to hear from someone of your experience in naval combat, the undiluted truth of our state of naval readiness.

Needless to say, I also think your skill is long overdue of being rewarded with your own command."

[Dragor23]

"Gnaahh..." came from Theor lightly, after he nearly fell. Walking straight is hard, when enough alcohol is given. Maybe he should cut down the wine and the beer. "Dear father in heaven..." he mumbled softly and soundless "Thank you for letting me alone. Screw you. No I'm alone. The burden of our house is lying on my shoulders." Suddenly he realised that with him the house of Blackshield will disappear into obscurity. Suddenly he was sober again.

[Dwarmin]

The King, exchanged words with a few more courtiers...

(Is that everyone who wanted to make an intro? Now or never, friends ))

And rose from his throne, nodding his head respectfully at the round of toasts to his hopefully long reign and life. Yes, it was time for the feast, wasn't it? The days excitement had made him quite hungry,

As he walked forward, he noticed a drunken seeming man stumble in the crowd. Alberts gimlet eyes-a dark green shade, so like his mothers-spotted the man out. That was...Theor Blackshield. "Bitter Black", was his nickname, if you were feeling mean. They had known each other, in a fashion, since they were children. He remembered the other Noble boys had sometimes made sport of tossing rocks at Theor, when he couldn't defend himself.

Albert had never thrown any rocks...but, he hadn't stood up for him, either.

Albert knew *why* he was bitter. The Blackshield Family had been destroyed in the War of the Hounds-not on paper, like some families-literally. They had held out longer than any of the Southerners, continuing to fight even after the armistice was signed.

For that, Arvin Conricht had slaughtered them. Almost down to the last child.

Ironically, his Godfather untimely death spared the remainder of the Blackshield family. Kathryn Conricht had negotiated and accepted the Blackshields formal surrender, and allowed them to rejoin the nobility-at reduced rank, of course.

So, it was with a certain pity-and desire to make up for the past-he took the man by the shoulder, looking into his eyes. He might have been angered, if it had been anyone else. To Alberts surprise, and the mans credit, seemed to have snapped to a form of sobriety.

"Steady on man. We haven't even begun dinner yet, and you're already a bit deep in the cups, it seems. Usually we get drunk afterwards, there's no shame in it.

If you're not feeling well, talk to my handmaiden, Ria-she'll find you a warm bed, let you sleep it off. Unless you're feeling well enough to attend the feast? If so, I'd like to speak to you.

For, I know you by reputation, Theor Blackshield. If there's anyone who can pay truth to my talk of 'scars of the past', your family is certainly a prime candidate, for having suffered enough."

((OOC: @Dragor/I sort of made up some background stuff on the spot about your char and his family, based on your bio. If I go too far, just say so and I'll redact.))

[Dragor23]

Theor gritted his teeth in suppressed anger, but he just nods. "My family..." he said with monotone voice "Is nothing more but one man. A man who very likely not can love anymore. So he will die without any heirs... Some scars cannot heal, some scars are too deep..." He sighed and tried to smile. His face felt weird and his face muscles hurt a little bit. But whatever "I'm feeling well enough to attend the feast, my liege. It would be a shame to not attend the coronation festivals of our honored king. Now, if you excuse me, your Grace, I must get rid of this goblet." No drinking today... He had enough. He didn't want to fight on this day and he would probably lose his head, when he punch someone the face in today.

[knightedskull]

Zeddrous Litchenmire finally arrived late to the scene, due to sight-seeing the city, and finds the New King helping a drunkard on the floor stand up.

He exhale his tensions at the thought of a King, a new one at that, helping a fellow man.   Now he wanted to join the King even more if this was just a slight bit of courtesy.
Zeddous steeled himself and walked towards the two men with an offer to help bring the man up on his feet too.

"Long live the king indeed, your Majesty.  You may not have heard of me or my family line, the Litchenmire, but I, Zeddrous, swear you my fealty to you and your cause of just should you accept it."

[Dwarmin]

Albert actually was slightly ashamed to not recall the Licthtenmire's. His family had been one of many, those hurriedly given legitimacy and a strip of land in exchange for manpower to fight the war. After the war, on both sides win or lose, they tended to have those titles taken back just as fast...

Zeddruos, though, he recalled was a shrewd businessman-and had made plenty of gold recently, hand over fist.

"It's an honor, my friend. I've no doubt the fortunes of the Litchenmire family will soon rise.

I accept your fealty, Bondsman."

...

He turned back to Theor, mulling the mans words. No heir, no love...

"I don't think that is your destiny, Theor Blackshield. I never believed in fate anyway, but what we make. Neither should you. Stand up straight, now. You can bear your scars, but you don't let them dominate who you are.

After all, all men are their own masters, and no one-not even a King-has dominion over who they choose to be.

...hmm, You are excused, now. We can speak later." He said, letting him go.

With that, King Albert continued to the feast. He hoped the man would take up his offer. There was still strength in him-and Albert needed that strength...

Now, though...he was really quite hungry, and wondered how many courtiers he would plow through to get to his roast venison.

[knightedskull]

Zeddrous stood there, too awestruck that it was just like that and he was in the Kings service.
Zeddrous, with glee, grabbed the shoulder of the man that once was on the floor and asked:
"My good sir, tell me what you have consumed for I wish to celebrate as well.   The smell of wine is in the air and I can never enjoy that stuff.   I'm sure you know your way around a good froth, am I right?"

[Taricus]

"Very well sire, though I do regret to inform you that I shan't be staying for the feast tonight, as I have matters back in Spiritusaer to deal with. I do wish you a good feast tonight mi'lord and good tidings for the rest of the evening."

With that sentence, The Blauritter moved to leave the keep...

[Dwarmin]

King Albert looked upon the Blue Knight-stoic, faceless, eternal. A symbol of strength and power, to the people of Windheath-as much, if not more so, then the crown and scepter he wielded.

Sometimes Albert wondered who bore the greater weight on their shoulders.

"Indeed. Long live Blauritter, defender of Windheath." he said quietly. A few of the nobles raised their cups in silent honor.

Some didn't. They questioned the old ways-the needs for symbols and legends. To Albert, those things were more important now then they had even been.

[Ardas]

Edgard made his way toward the king and managed to sit down next to him. Everyone was well on their way to stuff themselves silly, and albert seemed to be intent on doing the same. Heh, young man did eat like a huntsman too.

"Your Grace, I see you are in a great mood. While we carry on with the festivities, I must ask you an important question - what are your plans? As of the lords of the realm it is important that ducs are informed about any plans or decisions you might make. I beleive it would set a good precednece if tomorrow you organised another gathering of the high nobility and gave a brief statement of what you intend to do as our liege. A lot of ruling during your mother's reign was done rather... privately, and one could not hope to serve her well since it was impossible to know her mind."

Edgard smiled briefly.

"I hope I'm not burdening you with this too much, Your Grace, I'm merely anxious to serve my lord well."

[knightedskull]

Zeddrous turns away from Theor to join the feast.
He finds a few nobles raising their cups to what the King said.
Not wanting to feel out of place, Zeddrous picks up a cup from the table and raises it along with the others as a man in shining blue armour leaves.
Though before drinking from the cup his nose protested the thought of wine and so he placed the cup back down on the table and gave himself an inventory check.

He made sure to have bought some new clothing to look presentable.
A light chainmail armour with a silk shirt tucked under it.
The shirt uses a dark shade of purple with gold (looking) trims.
The pants of similar fashsion but with a tougher material than silk underneath.
His sword, a falchion without scabbard, rests at his side, new too and replaces his old one.
And finally an out of style but very dear to him leather-cloak his parents had given to him.

All and all he thinks himself looking presentable in any case.

Zeddrous then sits down at the table to feast on some fine chicken...and chew slowly to overhear things he might need to know.

[Dragor23]

Even Theor honored the Blue Knight. Maybe he/she ( he was never quite sure about fact who's the Blue Knight now) was only a chunk of metal, this chunk is the symbol of the power and determination of Windheath. Heh.

He put away his goblet and cleared his throat. No more drinking... Probably no eating too. Maybe he should talk with the other nobles, but he's not really feeling like it... But he needed allies, when he wanted to raise again. Friends were necessary to be a power in this kingdom. Maybe someday he would be the second strongest power... He, ambition was not lacking. But that could be the booze...

Theor looked at the attendants, searching for interessting colloquists. A lot of 'em are just minor nobles, hedgeknights and ducs he don't want to chit-chat with 'em. But... Holla, who's that? The brother of the king. He approached him and greeted with a casual "My humble greeting, Prince of Windheath."