Nobility [IC Thread]

[New Roman Empire]

Only post OCC stuff in the OCC thread here is the link- http://forum.nationstates.net/viewtopic.php?f=25&t=183256&p=9580814#p9580814

Drakle is at a time of peace once again. After the brutual civil war, the King, King Zurda selected 6 familes to keep order in each provience. These families are the Coslands, Ignacio, Magi, Seale, Narzen and Sohrab. They were put in power by the king.The Coslands are the lords of High Trim. The king keep order in the capital provience of Trom. The families govern them selves. But the proviences are under the Kings laws. The families solve issues and up hold the kings law their proviences. But now a meeting is being called for all the heads of the families to come. the letter said:
To: Heads of the 7 familes
You are all coming to Trom for a meeting. Their are some issues we must talk about. Also rurmors are coming in that a rebel army is forming. This is urgent, you must all come at once. Thsi will only take a day or two.
Your king,
Tom

The Coslands castle, High Trim
John Cosland had just got the letter from a messanger that was sent from the capital. His wife Halle had just walked into his office. "My dear, I am being called to the capital for a few days at the most. Can you bring Jack in here?" Asked John.

"Yes dear." Said Halle. Then she went off to find jack and she slamed the door on the way out. Man, she is not happy about this one bit. Well, then again she did plan on having another child though, I bet that is why she is pissed. Well, while I wait I best get back to work. Then he went back to reading documents and issues of the provience one caught his eye.

It was titled: Murdering Spree
My lord, A criminal has been killing poeple every night. Your guards are to few to protect us. People are scared and they wish for your protection. I told them I would ask if you would send troops to the town of Regie. Soon my lord people are starting to to pile up on the streets dead.

This is very serious indeed. I must send troops right away. I will let my son do that, he needs practice since he will become the next Lord of High Trom when I die. Then a knock was at the door. "Come in." Said John as he looked up. It was Jack. Jack was 15 years old and very mature for his age.

"You wanted to see me father?" Asked Jack. Then he steped in and closed the door.

"Yes, I have been called to the capital and I will be away for a day or two. I am leaving you in charge of the Provience. Also, I want you to send troops to the town of Regie." Said John. Then he tossed the document that he had just read about the town. "Read it Jack and you will see why." Said John. Then Jack started ot read it. A few moments later he looked up.

"A murdering spree a." Said Jack. "Very well father, I will send troops while you are gone. Anything else?" Asked Jack. Then he put the paper down on a table.

"Yes, you are yo do all my jobs while I am gone." Said John. "So no bring your girl friend to the castle while I am gone. If I find out you better be prepared to marry her." Said John. Then he shooed him away. Then he went to his room and put on his armor and grabed his sword that was made by the Cosland forge the greatest forge in the kingdom.. The hardest steel used for weapons and armor in the kingdom. Then he took a 6 man guard detail and mounted his horse and rode for the capital.

[The Norak Federation]

Tresed read the letter for the fifth time, reading each word as if it was made to decieve his eyes. This was the way of Tresed. Always be wary of everyone, when you had riches to spare. Tresed had a small feeling this note may have been a trick, to lure him away from his lands, just to try something.

As Tresed read it again, he knew that this note wasn't fake. The king was requiring his presence. He had to obay. If he didn't, it would seem like he was losing respect for the king, and being Tresed always felt that the king had a slight grudge against him since the last war, not showing up could make it look like he was in charge of a rebel army and would give the king a perfect excuse to take over the White desert, and try to steal all of Narzen's wealth.

Tresed quickly called for his advisor, Lorin, and explained the situation. Lorin understood completely, and actually encouraged Tresed's decision in going. Tresed knew he would, and then ordered that Lorin would be placed in charge until Tresed returned. Lorin took it well, and gave orders for the fastest ships to be constructed so that Tresed could leave, via river. Horses would be taken then once out of the desert.

Tresed did this quickly. In very little time, Tresed and 10 men were on the fastest ship, sailing out of the White Desert.

[Reselia]

"Urgh..." said Li-twan. It seemed he had put a little too much sulphur in... And caused quite a big explosion. Quickly healing his hearing, he heard a knock in the door. "Uncle, you are wanted at the messaging office." she said. (Uncle is an honorary among the Magi).
"What is it this time?" he replied.
"A messag from the King."
"He has the worst sense of timing... Just when I'm on the verge of finding the philosophers stone! Just! Oh well... I suppose I had better go."
Li-twan then grabbed a few spell runes and wandered off to the Messaging Ofiice. He obstinately read the letter, and started cussing.
Moodily, he recited a teleport spell to Trom and ended up just in front of the King.
Standing up in a dignified way, he asked "Do you always have such an awkward sense of timing?"

[New Roman Empire]

"Urgh..." said Li-twan. It seemed he had put a little too much sulphur in... And caused quite a big explosion. Quickly healing his hearing, he heard a knock in the door. "Uncle, you are wanted at the messaging office." she said. (Uncle is an honorary among the Magi).
"What is it this time?" he replied.
"A messag from the King."
"He has the worst sense of timing... Just when I'm on the verge of finding the philosophers stone! Just! Oh well... I suppose I had better go."
Li-twan then grabbed a few spell runes and wandered off to the Messaging Ofiice. He obstinately read the letter, and started cussing.
Moodily, he recited a teleport spell to Trom and ended up just in front of the King.
Standing up in a dignified way, he asked "Do you always have such an awkward sense of timing?"

"You are very powerful magi, but dont forget who is king." Said King Tom as he sat back down in his throne. "Did you read my message to tell you why you were needed?" Asked Tom and he summoned a few guards that brought in the traditional Magi tradition welcoming runes. Then after they gave them to Li-twan they went back outside. "You are very early, the others wont be here for a day or so." Said Tom. Then he looked around the room.

[Reselia]

"Urgh..." said Li-twan. It seemed he had put a little too much sulphur in... And caused quite a big explosion. Quickly healing his hearing, he heard a knock in the door. "Uncle, you are wanted at the messaging office." she said. (Uncle is an honorary among the Magi).
"What is it this time?" he replied.
"A messag from the King."
"He has the worst sense of timing... Just when I'm on the verge of finding the philosophers stone! Just! Oh well... I suppose I had better go."
Li-twan then grabbed a few spell runes and wandered off to the Messaging Ofiice. He obstinately read the letter, and started cussing.
Moodily, he recited a teleport spell to Trom and ended up just in front of the King.
Standing up in a dignified way, he asked "Do you always have such an awkward sense of timing?"

"You are very powerful magi, but dont forget who is king." Said King Tom as he sat back down in his throne. "Did you read my message to tell you why you were needed?" Asked Tom and he summoned a few guards that brought in the traditional Magi tradition welcoming runes. Then after they gave them to Li-twan they went back outside. "You are very early, the others wont be here for a day or so." Said Tom. Then he looked around the room.

"Mmmm... That is the advantage of teleportation. As it were, I did read something about rebels or suchlike in the letter, hmmm? But still, worst sense of timing I've ever seen... I mean, you ask me to construct the Philosophers' Stone to make you immoral - sorry, immortal as well - and then you pull me away seconds before finishing. Where's the sense in that? And don't make threats, old chap. It's frowned on, don'cha know." replied Li.

[New Roman Empire]

"You are very powerful magi, but dont forget who is king." Said King Tom as he sat back down in his throne. "Did you read my message to tell you why you were needed?" Asked Tom and he summoned a few guards that brought in the traditional Magi tradition welcoming runes. Then after they gave them to Li-twan they went back outside. "You are very early, the others wont be here for a day or so." Said Tom. Then he looked around the room.

"Mmmm... That is the advantage of teleportation. As it were, I did read something about rebels or suchlike in the letter, hmmm? But still, worst sense of timing I've ever seen... I mean, you ask me to construct the Philosophers' Stone to make you immoral - sorry, immortal as well - and then you pull me away seconds before finishing. Where's the sense in that? And don't make threats, old chap. It's frowned on, don'cha know." replied Li.

"Very true." Chuckled Tom. "But you must show respect to me and in return I show respect to you. But you are right rumor of a rebellion is spreading though my court." Said Tom. "But before I speak anymore we must wait for the others." Said Tom as he stood up. "Guards take him to his quarters." Said Tom then stood up and walked out of the room and went into his quarters.

[New Coldan Kerplakian]

Alfred sat at his marble dinner table, dressed in his royal outfit, eating pork, the table was surrounded a pit of fire, it brought warmth to the castle with a crackle. He was enjoying his meal until his three guards opened the castle doors, frogmarching a bloodied man. The man was pale, he wore a dark robe, but it seemed ripped apart, revealing skin. Alfred got out his marble seat and reached for his dagger.

"We found this man committing necromancy, that's witchery!"
The man barked, chuckling.
"You damn fools, interrupted my session of eating with such a matter you could have handled!"
Alfred never used profanity unless he was infuriated and the guards and his army knew that. He walked to the accused man and looked him in the eye.
"Did you commit the crime of which you were accused of?"
Alfred asked, fire in his eyes.
"Yes, m'lord."
He admitted in a low voice.
"Then you will have the punishment."
Alfred said firmly, he looked at the guards.
"If you ever! Ever! Ruin my session again, I will hang you in public and put you on display!"
Alfred threatened, his personal guards stood trying to ignore the conversation, then a boy came inside of the castle.
"M'lord. I have a message from the king."
Alfred's ears rung when he heard 'king'.
"Thank you, boy. Here have a payment."
Alfred said taking the letter, opening it with his dagger. Alfred's steward gave him a few coins for his delivery.
"I'm leaving to see the king gather me ten personal guards and my armor."
The steward came back five minutes later with his full plate armor and ten guards. Alfred went to his quarters to change ten minutes later he was ready, he mounted his horse and rode to the king with his guards.

[Sentinel XV]

The sun was rising over the Red Desert, its harsh rays creating desert's namesake effect, a wall of crimson advancing over the yellow-white dunes as the great orb rose higher into the sky. As the first tendrils of light snaked into courtyard of Sohrab Palace, nestled within the great Sohrabian city of Usaka, it would find not a King asleep, but a King training. Even at this early morning hour, Fasir Sohrab, Lord of the Red Desert, was in the palace training yard, tanned bare chest glistening with a sheen of sweat as he sparred one of his personal guards: a member of the Aesir Warriors. Blades flashed in the newfound light as the clang of steel upon steel echoed through the otherwise empty courtyard.

From the corner of his eye, Fasir caught a glimpse of an approaching figure cloaked in the traditional white robes of a Sohrabian servant: a squire, by the looks of him. Parrying the Aesir's curved blade, Fasir's scimitar swatted the sword aside and snaked forwards, its razor tip stopping a millimeter short of the warrior's throat. Coughing blandly, Fasir flashed a brilliant smile at the warrior and lowered his sword, extending a hand and helping him up--but not before he taunted the man playfully by whispering "dead" to him.

Turning on his heel, Fasir sheathed his sword in the scabbard at his hip and faced the squire, who bowed respectfully before approaching.

"Milord," he said, rising, "I bring urgent news from Trom."

Handing Fasir the letter, the squire was dismissed by the Lord's nod. Producing a small dagger, Fasir slit the letter open and unfolded it, reading from its plain face. His expression darkened as he read, and when he was finished he crumpled the note up in his hand, a look of pure anger on his face. Spitting upon the ground, he shook his head and turned to the Aesir warrior.

"Ready yourself," he said, already having calmed, "the King requests my presence in Trom. Gather nine other Aesir and convene at the White Gates."

With that, the two parted ways for some time: the Aesir warrior to do as he was commanded, and Fasir to his chambers where he bathed, changed into his riding gear (an array of silk garments in the royal crimson of the Sohrab lords padded by leather-and-steel armor) and gathered a small pack that was already provided by a servant. He said his goodbyes to the court notables, assuring his wife that he would be back in a few days, and departed for the White Gate, the grand entrance to Usaka on the Western wall of the city. Its stark white exterior--the reason it garnered such a name--gleamed in the morning sun as 10 masked and armored Aesir warriors along with Lord Fasir Sohrab passed through it. They descended down a winding cobbled path that cut through the massive dunes outside of Usaka and arrived then at a large wooden dock that was built into the sand. At the ports, instead of boats there were large crafts called Sandstriders, which were powered by the ancient wind magics of the Sohrabian people. A pilot greeted them with gusto, having never had the honor of driving the Lord of the Red Sands before.

In this manner, they loaded the Sandstrider and set off into the Red Desert, trailed by a second craft that carried horses for the 10 men. The Sandstriders would take them as far as the edge of the Red Desert, as they could only operate in sand. From there, Fasir and his escorts would take the horses all the way to Trom, to meet with the godforsaken King.

[New Roman Empire]

The Coslands

John Cosland had just arrived at Trom. It had been a long trip. They rode all through the night to reach the capitol. It was pouring rain and thunder rumbled in the distance. You could see a few lighting bolts. God, may god whatch over this city. May he sheild it from fire and death. When they entered the city, their were young girls hoping to see Jack Cosland. But when they saw it was only John and a few guards; they left. Some people stayed and cheered "Coslands, Coslands", over and over again. Then his gaurd's captain rode up to him. " Lord Cosland, the kings men have told us to head to the west tower in the palace." Said the Guard captain. John nodded and continued to ride to the west tower.

Cosland Castle, High Trim
Jack was sitting at his desk when a guard brought a man in. "Prince Cosland, this man was caught stealing from a town warehouse." Said the Guard. Jack was not happy at all he looked at the man and looked around for a thing to hit him on the side of the head with. The coslands did not tolerate theives at all. Then he looked at the man. He was scared for his life.

"Is this true?" Asked John.

"Yes, Prince Cosland." Said the man.

"Well your lucky I am in a good mood today. Guard put him in jail for a fort night. Also send a messanger to the town of Regie. I want a report on how our toops are doing their and if they caught the murder yet." Said Jack.

"Yes Prince Cosland. Now get up." Said the guard. Then he pulled the man to his feet and draged him out the door to the castle's dungeon. Then a messanger was sen you to the town of Regie.

[Jormengand]

"Lord Ignacio, a message comes from the king"
"When will it arrive, in the unlikely event that it does?" Pedro knew all too well that the message had not arrived. Any messenger who went to La Torre would invariably stop off at a town along the way, and be told that the message need not go further. Merely the will to take the message to the tower was enough for Pedro to read it, though the hundreds of messages sent to the tower each week were sorted out by the commoners.
"A week. Two, maybe."
"What say it?"
"A long story told short, you are to meet the king. Given the wording, I would take guards. Twenty can surely be spared?"
"They can. Take your squad, and we will go there."

Pedro looked around. He stepped towards the circle that acted as a focus for any spell that the Ordo cast upon it. Given this, it could easily teleport them towards the king's castle. It would be less than an hour's walk.

The Ordo marched into the castle, solemn and unspeaking. The servants backed away - after all, having what legends tell as demigods who will kill you as easily as save you is absolutely terrifying. They looked up at the king, whether in disdain or reverence none could tell.

Most suspected disdain.

[Videssos]

Andarist's Hold,
Moranth Mountains

Caladan Velaryon gazed out from the tower's window. The sun's glare made the misty marshes blindingly bright.

"My lord!" A call echoed from down stairs; in a corridor nearby. A middle aged man, with curled black hair, cut short revealed himself, clad in grey and white banded steel armour.
"What is it, Marshall Itkovian?" Caladan called down.
"A group of those Rhivi tribal savages were caught leading an attack the village of Wystone."

Caladan grimaced. Those foolish primitives were probably trying to enslave the populace and burn the village to a crisp.
"It seems those cretins never learn a lesson. Kill the captives and burn the nearest camp of theirs."
"Aye my lord. Those knaves shall be slaughtered. Not unlike the last time they did this, the bloody lunatics". The man bowed, his armour creaking as he did so.

As Caladan watched the man leave, he muttered. "I can hardly believe that they would return again and do what got so many of them butchered, but alas; short-sighted and short-witted fools must pay for their actions. In Blood. It was ever thus."

Sighing, Caladan returned to gazing upon the the almost surreal landscape that he had dominion over. Savour this moment well, for many play the Game of Thrones, and soon the world will drown in blood and tears. Vengeance and tragedy walk hand in hand.

He went down through the stairs, and navigated his way to the main hall. There a messenger was absently scratching his head whilst staring at a message on the table.
When the man noticed Caladan, he jumped up, before hastily bowing.
"M-my lord," The man stammered. "A message for you."
Caladan neared the table, and curiously peered at the letter. Ah, a summons to the abode of the king, in the badly named capital province of the kingdom. Trom? He snorted. Whoever declared the name of that province probably should of thought of a better name.

"K'azz!" He shouted suddenly.

The commander of the Crimson Guard walked in through the doorway. "Yes, my liege?"
"Assemble fifteen Avowed. They are to travel with me to Trom, where I shall meet with the king."
"Yes, lord. It shall be done soon."
Caladan nodded his gratitude, and then begun the wait. Once the men were ready, the Lord would travel to Trom. They would arrive quickly. Though not as quickly as less conventional means.