Aggathis, a Fantasy Medieval Roleplay|IC

[Albertae]

~snip~

Kemwon, Eoksãgud
Outside the Castle of House Dajkẽni

"You misunderstand. I hold no love of your father," Rorin stood, and began to descend the stony steps towards Aimery, his armour clanking with every step, "Your father was ineffective. He singlehandedly broke down relations with his northern neighbours, a proud people, my people," his face clenched with rage at the mere thought, but continued more peacefully, "If you want to prove your worth, I would recommend apologising for the disrespect your father caused mine. And if you have truly earnt your title, maybe even paying the Eoksãgudi price for it, then you and I may discuss further."

Aimery thinks quickly on the matter to not show hesitation. He says proudly,"I am a honorable man, and more importantly a level-headed King! I will do what I must to pay the Eoxaguth price for my father's disrespect, but I must let you know this is for diplomatic relations between our two kingdoms and if you think you are any better than me, then let the whole realm know." The court gasped at the king's quick judgement and action. Everyone understood what he said was fair and if the Sand-King were to be any other way it would be utterly wrong. Aimery then straightens himself saying respectfully,"I apologize for the tensions my father has caused, but I am here to be rid of them and start anew."

[Imperial Ouroboros]

Requias

A figure collapsed, back resting on the boulder that jutted out in the middle of the sand. He lowered his hood and face mask, revealing one of the most unique visages in the world. He had bluish green skin and yellow snake like eyes, both given to him by his orc heritage. His face was slightly angular, he had pointy ears and silky black hair, at least when it wasn't being ruined by sand and sweat. These accounted for his elven features. Finally he had the teeth, eyebrows, nose.... well it was the overall bone structure really, of a human. If you were to look at it at a purely aesthetic point of view he was neither good looking nor ugly. If you looked at it from many people's point of view, however, it was an afront to to the gods that these features were ever mixed in the first place.

Requias was his name and he was currently chugging his water canteen in between breaths. He had just gotten back from a murder that had taken much more out of him than he thought it would. The now dead not so nobleman had become Requias's target after he saw a public execution of three men for stealing less 5 loads of bread. It was made even worse by the fact that they had only been driven to steal by the Count's overbearing tax policy. 'That could have gone better,' he thought. It had all been planned perfectly too. The wife and child were out of the small village, and the fact that he was only a minor count, bordering on knight status, meant that security was low compared to Requias's other undertakings. The fact that guards were only posted outside the manor since the Count didn't trust "commoners" near his possessions made it so much easier. All he had to do was sneak in, stab him in his sleep, and slip out and no one would know till morning.

How was he to know the nobleman was cheating on his wife?

After He had splattered the Counts blood all over the bed the women let out an ungodly noise. Once the banshee had stopped screaming long enough for Requias's head to stop pounding he ran and never looked back. Ok he looked back a little bit. Quite a lot actually, always had to be weary of arrows sneaking up on you after all. Lucky the Count had not seen it fit to tell his guards of his female late night visitor, as they took a few moments to subdue and question her before even beginning to chase him. He lost them fairly easily but still decided it would be better to get as far away as possible, leading him to his current position.

Now tired and nearly out of water, he decided it would be best to head to the nearest town and resupply. Then he could be off to wander again, preferably to a less barren country. He was used to living off the land, which was much more difficult in this region. Thankfully he had grabbed a decent sized bag of gold the Count had left on his nightstand before leaving, presumably it was for the women he was sharing his bed with that night, but that made little difference to the black clad Krvi. He put his hood back up, directly covering up to his forehead and then shadowing his eyes. He then put his face mask, which was attached to the front collar of his armor, up around his lower face, two loops on the side going over his ears and the middle of it resting on his nose. Now that his face was again covered he headed off to the nearest city, Kemwon capital of Eoxaguth.

[Keshokif]

~snip~

Kemwon, Eoksãgud
Castle of House Dajkẽni

Rorin considered the King's offer for a moment, weighing up the thoughts in his head. Finally, he began to laugh.

"You have spirit, Southern-King. I give you that. For now, at least, you have paid our price. Battle shall be your truest test, but I shall not be the one to test you," Rorin sat back into his throne, "So tell me. What is it exactly you propose? Understand that we shall not bend the knee to you, nor pledge our soldiers to a lost cause."

[Cuprum]

Basdukãm, Eoksãgud
Castle of House Wermodi

''You are just a lowly vassal who doesn't have influence in the powers that rule the world. If you don't let pass my retinue, you'll dissapoint me and you'll dissappoint your overlord who is expecting us with anxiety. Open the door and let us pass before I lose my patience or you are the one who will feed my men and my horses?'' The little lion said with a serious face.

[Keshokif]

~snip~

Basdukãm, Eoksãgud
Castle of House Wermodi

"All we need to know is what yer' business is, my lord. We aren't intending for any conflict of interests. We just don't want to endanger our Lord with your retinues. Speak and you can pass, else we can wait here all day, and the desert sun..."

Suddenly, a gloved hand came from behind and slapped the retinue on his head. The hand belonged to Kelin Wermodi, regent of the Duke. He looked down at the banners of the Lord below and held his retinue against the walls.

"Idiot! That's the Lion-King of Braeligus' banner, not some common Lordling," Kelin looked over the walls again, and shouted down at the retinues below, "I'm sorry for my guardsman's behaviour. The gates shall be opened and you shall be allowed passage."

He shouted at the gate-keeper, who soon opened the gate. Kelin touched his forehead with his forefingers in a symbol of honour, "Apologies once more. Safe travel, my Lord."

[Albertae]

~snip~

Kemwon, Eoksãgud
Outside the Castle of House Dajkẽni

Rorin considered the King's offer for a moment, weighing up the thoughts in his head. Finally, he began to laugh.

"You have spirit, Southern-King. I give you that. For now, at least, you have paid our price. Battle shall be your truest test, but I shall not be the one to test you," Rorin sat back into his throne, "So tell me. What is it exactly you propose? Understand that we shall not bend the knee to you, nor pledge our soldiers to a lost cause."

Aimery satisfied that he had been given equal respect continued on to say,"Sand-King Rorin, I come seeking a military alliance so that we may fend off the eastern hordes. My father Ekkorus IIII "The Wise" had a vision come over him telling of the orcsamer and goblin controlled hordes coming from the east which would takeover the elves in days then moving in to take the Human Realm." People believe every word coming out of Aimery's mouth, because they knew of his father. He was deemed "The Wise" like many before him. These were words not to be mistaken. "I come to make this alliance so that we may unite all of the human realm under a council instead of the putrid filth on the imperial throne we called an emperor. This time we must rule under a Council of Kings and protect the mountain pass that connects the West to the East. My realm may be a plain realm, but we have much to offer. For one our technology is greater than that of the known world. Second of all, I can raise an army of 12,500 soldiers. Third of all, I boast to have the greatest guard in the both of the realms, human and elf. I point to my Captain of the Kingsguard. "He is a battle-hardened man trained in the art of the spear. And so are the rest of my kingsguard, but what really make them a powerful mini army is the feats they have to endure. The only feat they have to endure is that of taming a mountain lion of the Western mountains of Ekkoru. If we are able to train thousands of men like him we would have a great chance of defeating the hundreds of thousands of orcsamer and goblins coming from the Far East. I won't be able to do this alone and this is why I seek the northern king's support. I am not any better than you my king or the King of Braeligus or the King of Sleoteca. I am just as good as each of you though and together we can be a force to be reckoned with." At that moment a kingsguard brings him a message, a kidnapping threat. Someone would attempt to kidnap his child. His eyes open wide as he reads this and he sends the captain of the Kingsguard to fetch the Kingsguard and closely guard the child.

[The Orzone]

Ogrimmar Thûgrad, Chief of Clan Thûgrad

Ogrimmar slowly opened his eyes to the brightness of the sun, exhausted and sweating after another vision from the past during the Night of Slaughter. It started off as catapults started to bombard the walls and houses, then the walls crashed down and soon the Dwarfs were swarming and screaming, ready to kill and fight.

The fighting, killing and senseless butchering has always haunted him for some reason, it must have been a reminder to never forget the most unforgivable tragedy that had befallen the Òrćsàmer. He would see it in a different perspective almost all the time, from a guard fighting the Dwarfs, civilian running away,to his own ancestor Dongæn Thûgrad falling in the thick of battle. Almost every time he would close his eyes, the fire that raged the city, the fighting that occurred and the blood moon that had risen the next morning was forever in his mind serving as a reminder to seek vengeance against the victims of the Slaughter.

He shook his head in frustration and grunted as he started to stand. He heard the training in the courtyard outside next to the Chieftan's hall, where he and his family would reside, but he was not married nor did he have any siblings. The only child in the only home inside the only settlement in the Krùgmár, where other tribes of Orcs fight and bicker while he consolidates his power. A las, all is not good in his settlement as constant raiding and attacks are focused on him, making it hard to grow farms and raise crops and cattle, but it makes him and his tribe stronger for battle, always ready for a fight with anybody.

He dressed in Fur clothes as the day was windy and cold, outside the wind was strong and loud while his people did their daily routine, train, cook and other things. He cooked a meal for himself and went outside to patrol his settlement. As he was walking with his fellow warriors, he was greeted by civilians, elders, children and adults. Guards saluted him by putting their fists in their chest. He bowed in acknowledgement, but remained silent.

It felt like hours walking through the streets and the walls. After the whole ordeal was done he met with his council members on what to do. He sighed as he had another day filled with problems that he himself had to solve.

[Keshokif]

~snip~

Kemwon, Eoksãgud
Castle of House Dajkẽni

"Where I come from, we don't tame lions. We kill them."

The court grew silent. Of course, they knew of the old King, and his reputation for being 'wise'. That did not lessen the animosity that they felt for the Kingdom of Ekkoru. There had been many stains on their honour perpetuated by the Ekkoruans, and their old King, Ekkorus IV. Rorin spoke once more.

"An alliance against the Orcsamer and Goblin hordes, though. An intriguing offer. I trust you passed our bannermen, the Wermodis, and their great fortress of Basdukãm. That is the only way into Kemwon. What makes you think that we need a Southern ruler's assistance? In case you didn't realise, our Sand Brigade have other trials to endure - they must live in the desert for a month, hunting their own food and finding their own water, they must kill elephants with nothing but spears, and atop that, they must train for five years to even have a chance to join the Brigade, and then kill each other for the spots that remain. Our armies number in their thousands. Directly, from my own Demesne, I can raise 10,000 troops, with assistance from the Wermodis I could raise 18,000. We have two Kingdoms between us and the rest of the world, and we have a defensible position. Orcsamer and Goblins have never touched our realm before, and I say that as the heir to a tree that has lasted for thousands of years and continues to grow in the sand and mountains of our lands. What possible need of ours do you serve?"

[Cuprum]

The road was sodden and wet. The march from the West had taken its toll on the men, the endless rain dampening spirits as much as boots.

"Curse this bloody rain", spat Regulus, swinging his dripping cloak up and over his shoulder. What little protection the cloak offered from the wind was no respite from the deep seeping wetness of it. At least it keeps my sword arm free, thought Regulus, readjusting the scabbard on his hip.

The retinue. Regulus looked around him, three-hundred battle-hardened men at his command. Honour and foolishness often go hand in hand. A column of horses galloped past, breaking Regulus from his thoughts. A gold lion against a field of red waved proudly from their flag. Night was falling quickly by the time the train set up camp. To the west, the rivers could be seen, its banks swollen by the downpour. As darkness crept in so too did silence, an eerie quiet hung over the spitting fires as men ate quickly and sharpened their blades.

''There is the royal keep. Open the gates, your people... The sand-king is waiting for us!''

[Albertae]

~snip~

Kemwon, Eoksãgud
Outside the Castle of House Dajkẽni

"Where I come from, we don't tame lions. We kill them."

The court grew silent. Of course, they knew of the old King, and his reputation for being 'wise'. That did not lessen the animosity that they felt for the Kingdom of Ekkoru. There had been many stains on their honour perpetuated by the Ekkoruans, and their old King, Ekkorus IV. Rorin spoke once more.

"An alliance against the Orcsamer and Goblin hordes, though. An intriguing offer. I trust you passed our bannermen, the Wermodis, and their great fortress of Basdukãm. That is the only way into Kemwon. What makes you think that we need a Southern ruler's assistance? In case you didn't realise, our Sand Brigade have other trials to endure - they must live in the desert for a month, hunting their own food and finding their own water, they must kill elephants with nothing but spears, and atop that, they must train for five years to even have a chance to join the Brigade, and then kill each other for the spots that remain. Our armies number in their thousands. Directly, from my own Demesne, I can raise 10,000 troops, with assistance from the Wermodis I could raise 18,000. We have two Kingdoms between us and the rest of the world, and we have a defensible position. Orcsamer and Goblins have never touched our realm before, and I say that as the heir to a tree that has lasted for thousands of years and continues to grow in the sand and mountains of our lands. What possible need of ours do you serve?"

The Sand-King had fallen into his trap. "Food. Your kingdom lies in the sands where growing crops is virtually impossible. How do you expect to service a 28,000 man army for probably a decade at least with no food. Sure you can buy food, but at what cost? You'll have to run out of money eventually with that much upkeep. And then commanding a 28,000 man army will be difficult, due to attrition. How many southern kings will help you when you seem so demeaning. How long do you think your soldiers can really handle it? Every man has a breaking point no matter what training or feats they've achieved. My kingsguard are infamous, because they've proven their worth in this world. When has the Sand Brigade? The fact is you need me and the rest of the human kingdoms. The furthest south lays the Half-Human, Half-Dwarven king who controls almost all of the metal economy. How do you expect to speak to a man so far and different from yourself? I was trained by my father in my youth as not only to be a King, but a commander of armies, a strategician and tactician. And as for your tree, that is an astounding achievement, but how much water have you had to pour into its roots. How much have you had to deeply care for it? My kingdom is the second most defensible kingdom in all of the human realm. My capital city lies behind a mountain range on most fronts. That means I only have to fight one side."

[Keshokif]

~snip~

Kemwon, Eoksãgud
Castle of House Dajkẽni

"And I, young Lord, have known since birth how to survive in these lands I call home! If you intend to educate me on the ways of my own Kingdom, then I implore you to begin soon, because I know you cannot survive for five minutes in the heat of day and the cold of night, with the sand as your only companion! I killed my uncle in battle for the honour of being King - that is the Eoksãgudi price - and I marched my Father's army southwards to take on Southern Kings and Emperors like you fancy yourself to be! We have, and will continue to, survive longer than you think possible. The tree of our family has grown strong without lords like yourself for centuries; millennia! What makes you think this will be any different? Ironbarks grow in the desert, hardy foods grow in the desert, and House Dajkẽni has done the same."

~snip~

The gates were opened as requested. The Sand-King had been eagerly awaiting the arrival of the Braeligans for some time. Again, Mwesos Dajkẽni had been sent out to meet the Lord on the road.

"Greetings, Breligans. Good journey? I hope that our vassals down south were not too much trouble."

[Albertae]

~snip~

Kemwon, Eoksãgud
Outside the Castle of House Dajkẽni

"And I, young Lord, have known since birth how to survive in these lands I call home! If you intend to educate me on the ways of my own Kingdom, then I implore you to begin soon, because I know you cannot survive for five minutes in the heat of day and the cold of night, with the sand as your only companion! I killed my uncle in battle for the honour of being King, and I marched my Father's army southwards to take on Southern Kings and Emperors like you fancy yourself to be! We have, and will continue to, survive longer than you think possible. The tree of our family has grown strong without lords like yourself for centuries; millennia! What makes you think this will be any different? Ironbarks grow in the desert, hardy foods grow in the desert, and House Dajkẽni has done the same."

~snip~

The gates were opened as requested. The Sand-King had been eagerly awaiting the arrival of the Braeligans for some time. Again, Mwesos Dajkẽni had been sent out to meet the Lord on the road.

"Greetings, Breligans. Good journey? I hope that our vassals down south were not too much trouble."

Aimery is disgusted with what he calls honorable. Aimery says this loud enough for all in the court to hear."My kingdom is the most honorable kingdom from the first men of the human realm and when you say you had the honor of killing your uncle in battle for a title that sickens me for you are a greedy kinslayer who killed his own uncle for power and a title!" At this point there is high tensions and King Aimery I "The Quick" Partheseus meant every word.

[Keshokif]

~snip~

Kemwon, Eoksãgud
Castle of House Dajkẽni

"And you prove your lack of knowledge once more, greedy South-King. It's called a moot. My uncle challenged my right to the throne, so I took it by force. An honoured tradition around these parts, which I wouldn't expect a pampered Lordling like yourself to understand. You had your title passed down by... What? Succession? A weak method of ruling for weak men and their weak wives. If you were a weak man, not a true man, would you have still won your throne? By having it simply tossed to you by a dying ruler? When my father died, I fought with my Uncle in front of the Lords of this realm. I earned my right to be King, not by birth, but by blood and steel. You shall try the same before you talk to me again. Go back to the south, where the rains come often and the climate is weak as your Kingdom!"

He sat back in his throne. All the Lords and Courtiers around him knew it was so. The Ekkorusian King had basically stated that he didn't earn his title. He had dishonoured himself before the entire court, who began to laugh at the weak person who stood before them. If he had not fought to earn his rightful title, what right did he have to call himself a King of anywhere?

[Albertae]

~snip~

Kemwon, Eoksãgud
Castle of House Dajkẽni

"And you prove your lack of knowledge once more, greedy South-King. It's called a moot. My uncle challenged my right to the throne, so I took it by force. An honoured tradition around these parts, which I wouldn't expect a pampered Lordling like yourself to understand. You had your title passed down by... What? Succession? A weak method of ruling for weak men and their weak wives. If you were a weak man, not a true man, would you have still won your throne? By having it simply tossed to you by a dying ruler? When my father died, I fought with my Uncle in front of the Lords of this realm. I earned my right to be King, not by birth, but by blood and steel. You shall try the same before you talk to me again. Go back to the south, where the rains come often and the climate is weak as your Kingdom!"

He sat back in his throne. All the Lords and Courtiers around him knew it was so. The Ekkorusian King had basically stated that he didn't earn his title. He had dishonoured himself before the entire court, who began to laugh at the weak person who stood before them. If he had not fought to earn his rightful title, what right did he have to call himself a King of anywhere?

"You idiopathic fool. My Great-Great-Grandfather Ekkorus I set the precedent that all of his firstborn grandchildren must achieve the name of "The Wise". Not only did I achieve an infamous name, but I rebelled against the norms and set myself down a clearer and more modern path. I am now known as Airmery I "The Quick" for I slew 17 men in combat under 1 minute. That is why they call me "The Quick" not only am I a strong claim, I have proven to my father and kingdom that I will not be controlled by his ancestors precendents. If you have no respect for another's culture then you have no respect for me." The King walks proudly out of the throne room to be greeted by his Captain of the Kingsguard and the Kingsguard at the massive door. "I am sorry we could not reach diplomatic relations. I guess your kingdom so close, yet so far have not been able to achieve a sense of open-mindedness and respect. I will leave today leaving you the fact that you couldn't put aside your pride for a moment to bring back diplomatic ties with a kingdom which use to be so close. Just remember that today you let me leave with your side having one less ally." He leaves the room saying his farewells and thanking the king for his hospitalities.

[Cuprum]

~snip~

Now this is home Regulus thought to himself with a smile on his face. He had not even realized how much he missed the smell of the flowers of the vale in the air and the breeze that came with being so close to the mountains. The atmosphere had done wonders on the young Lord's nerves and he could not help but relish in the comfort of knowing that soon he would be home in this keep. As they approached the Castle the party noticed that ome of the royals from that land came to receive them.

He let the anger his face was clearly displaying fade as he spoke as kindly as he could manage given the circumstances. "Just a little issue with some keep in lost in the dunes." The men gave a hearty laugh as they put their weapons away no longer sensing danger.

"I am the Heir to the throne of Braeligus and I came with my sister to fulfill the pact our leader made long time ago, I hope I can trust my word, prince."

The young lord dismounted his horse effortlessly as he walked towards her future bride. "I apologize if I may look like a barbarian but that's are not my best traits. I promise you that any words against the Princess will affect me greatly." He took her hand in his own and placed a soft kiss on her knuckles. "Might I have your name my Lady?" The prince was some kind of exotic creature compared to his brothers and his father due to his elven blood. He has 2/3 of elven blood which is a higher percentage of elven purity compared to his brothers who only have the 1/8 of purity. Some people believe that he will follow her grandfather's tradition of impregnating a woman from the elves race to get a strong heir, if he continues with this ruthless tradition his great-grandsons will be pure blood elves.

[Keshokif]

~snip~

Kemwon, Eoksãgud
Outside the Castle of House Dajkẽni

The lady curtsied, looking as courteous as she could. She had been brought into an arranged marriage, but there was no way that her father, Sand-King Rorin, would back down. She had resigned herself to whatever her father had arranged. She spoke finally, her voice melodic and her tone natural.

"Not a barbarian at all, my Lord. I am Bedora Dajkẽni, first daughter of Sand-King Rorin Dajkẽni," she once again curtsied, eloquent and attempting to please.

Mwesos strode towards the Princess.

"I'm afraid the Prince who was meant to meet you is being kept up by his father, my brother. They have just conducted diplomatic affairs with another King. To be honest, I don't think they are going too well. From what I last heard, my Brother was chastising him about some issue or another. Alas, I can take you to him if you wish. My brother would also be eager to meet you both."

He held out his arm for the princess to hold, as they would go up the long road to the keep.

[Crimoria]

Having acknowledged the man who noticed him his troops realised it was getting dark and they would not get home in time. He looked at the city and him and his troops proceeded inside the city looking for a place to rest for the night.

They all set up camp just outside the city awaiting morning. An eagle was seen flying above the city when it flew down to him. It was his sons eagle Xozik had a message on it confusing him. Reading it there was a message written in purple ink. The message mentioned that a large army of orcs were marching upon his land. There were at least a thousand and they were heavily armed.

He awoke his troops to tell them we must return home. The banners were lifted and torches lit. Several war horns blazed. The people inside the city could hear the Black Guard preparing to march home.

[Imperial Ouroboros]

Requias

Kemwon had finally came into Requias's view. Getting through Basdukãm was a simple affair, he simply hid amongst merchants that seemed to frequent the city. He had first stopped at the river to wash the blood out of his equipment. As he approached the city he saw a camp outside it's walls, spotted between the tents were banners of the Black Guard. While why they were here interested him, he had other objectives in mind. While he had snatched some money from that Count he knew he still didn't have enough money for enough supplies to be able to leave the Kingdom. He would prefer to stay away from big cities on his way out, as wanted posters of his masked face had become common in some regions of the country. He prefer to not have to resupply on his way out. He needed to find work, well paying work at that. He came upon a tavern in the poorer area of the city, one that he knew was a common meeting place for less savory characters.

'Just gotta stand here and look menacing,' he thought to himself. People would come here looking for a certain job to be done, and they would also choose who would be the one to do it. Now all Requias had to do was wait for the right employer. Of course he wouldn't just take any job. Requias had standards for the jobs he did, as did many of his colleagues. It came surprising to many people that most professional assassins wouldn't take just any job as long as the pay was right. He asked a barmaid for a bit of meat and some bread, and waited for someone to require his services.

[Cuprum]

~snip~

Prince:

''The colour of your skin is something I can not ingnore, my lady. Is beautiful trait, we don't have nothing like that since the girls of the south prefer the white. I hope my flattery is not tedious as I think.''

Princess:

''I'd rather a confortable bed where I can have a good rest, compared to my brother I'm exhausted with the journey. My legs are trembling and my eyes are begging for a sleep. Do you know where is my room, prince?'' The prince was thinking how he will devour her in the near future with his lustful mind.

[Keshokif]

Kemwon, Eoksãgud
Outside the Castle of House Dajkẽni

Prince:
''The colour of your skin is something I can not ingnore, my lady. Is beautiful trait, we don't have nothing like that since the girls of the south prefer the white. I hope my flattery is not tedious as I think.''

"Not at all. I find it... Well, flattering. We women of the North are unlike the girls of the South, I hope you'll find."

Princess:
''I'd rather a confortable bed where I can have a good rest, compared to my brother I'm exhausted with the journey. My legs are trembling and my eyes are begging for a sleep. Do you know where is my room, prince?'' The prince was thinking how he will devour her in the near future with his lustful mind.

"Aye, I can take you there. I can keep you away from my brother's prying eyes while you get rest. You'll certainly need it, I grant you. The Sand-King drives a hard bargain, and this is from someone who'se known him all of his life. Alas, you will still have to come to the keep, I'm afraid, unless you want to sleep on the streets. Our family never was one for convenience."

[Cuprum]

Princess: ''You are threating to sleep in the streets? My apologies my lord but I think I won't need your assistance anymore. My retinue and I will rest in a local inn near the downtown. The only thing I beg you to do is not to tell my brother, if you don't want to suffer his rage.''

[Keshokif]

Kemwon, Eoksãgud
Outside the Castle of House Dajkẽni

Princess: ''You are threating to sleep in the streets? My apologies my lord but I think I won't need your assistance anymore. My retinue and I will rest in a local inn near the downtown. The only thing I beg you to do is not to tell my brother, if you don't want to suffer his rage.''

"My lady, it was a joke meant in good humour. I apologise if it was taken another way. The keep will have all the amenities you desire."

[Cuprum]

(Image)
Kemwon, Eoksãgud
Outside the Castle of House Dajkẽni

Princess: ''You are threating to sleep in the streets? My apologies my lord but I think I won't need your assistance anymore. My retinue and I will rest in a local inn near the downtown. The only thing I beg you to do is not to tell my brother, if you don't want to suffer his rage.''

"My lady, it was a joke meant in good humour. I apologise if it was taken another way. The keep will have all the amenities you desire."

"My lord due to my strict education i lost any sense of humour that's why i cant understand silly jokes easily specially in this times in which political marriages are the order of the day. I hope you dont mind but I'll retire to my chambers. Have a nice day, we all need one."

[Keshokif]

~snip~

Kemwon, Eoksãgud
Outside the Castle of House Dajkẽni

"Of course. This way."

The Sand-Prince kept himself from showing any outward signs of annoyance or embarrassment, though inside, he knew that the young Prince, his nephew, would not be happily married. Nevertheless, it was his brother's call as the Sand-King. Not his. He led the lady to the keep, and expected the Princess and the foreign Prince to follow suit. They should be needing sleep also. Mwesos wondered if the Prince also had lost his sense of wonderment at wordplay, his love of ludicrous things, or whether he had kept it intact through the 'education' his sister had endured. More than anything else, he pitied them. Sure, his brother was a hard task-master, and their father had been a strict man, but had never removed the sense of humour entirely from any of his children. For that, Mwesos could only thank the gods.

[Cuprum]

A hooded and masked figure sat alone in a Chess parlor in Eoksãgud. Despite the loud chatter and occasional argument that broke out around him from the other tables of the busy establishment, Regulus neither spoke nor glanced at anyone else. His eyes simply remained focused on his side of the Chess board in front of him, carefully arranging the terrain tiles and pieces until everything was properly set in place, before quickly removing them all only to begin rearranging them again.

The parlor owner had watched this process repeat itself for nearly two hours. Heaving a weary sigh, the aged and somewhat heavyset man shifted himself out from behind to counter to stand next to the mysterious patron. Upon closer inspection, the young man's mask appeared to only consist of a simple piece of grey cloth, tightly tied to cover the lower half of his face.

If he was trying to hide himself somehow, the awkward disguise only served to make him stand out more.

"Do you not know how to play Chess?" The owner asked slowly, raising an eyebrow.

Regulus's hand paused in the air, currently clutching an ornately carved lion.

"...I know how to play." He responded softly.

"You have sat here for a great deal of time, and have had not played a single match against anyone." The older man furthered, leaning down a bit to get a closer look at the obscured face of the person across from him.

"Probably because no one has chosen to sit down on the other side of the board." Regulus deduced simply, while resuming his act of arranging his pieces and tiles.

"Maybe the others here would approach you easier if you didn't wear a mask. Or carry various weapons on your person." The owner observed, eyeing the long spear that hung across the hooded figure's back, as well as the dagger that dangled from his waist.

"If I didn't need the mask, I wouldn't need the weapons." Came an oddly ambiguous reply.

His curiosity furthered, the parlor owner decided that perhaps he didn't want the day passing by as mundanely as the last one had. Seating himself across from Regulus, he raised up the veil at the center of the board and began to arrange his own tiles and pieces. "I will play with you."

The grey-hooded man said nothing, simply placing his tiles and pieces as he had been for hours before, only this time he didn't scatter them when he was finished. Soon the veil was lifted, and the game had begun. Moves were made quickly, pieces captured and lost, and the parlor owner couldn't suppress his smile as he saw how his forces greatly outnumbered those of his enemy.

"Your lack of opponents is evident, you would benefit from more practice. All your most valuable pieces are gone, and you've only a spearman and a few rabble left." The older man remarked jovially.

"Yes." Regulus murmured back, before moving one of his pieces a single tile forward. "...But even rabble can capture a King."

The owner blinked for a moment, stunned. How could that piece have been moved all that way while escaping his notice? While the aged man had lost games of Chess before, he had never been beaten before he had even realized he was at risk of defeat.

"Impressive. How many opponents have you won against with this strategy?" The older man inquired, removing his pieces and tiles from the board and placing the veil in the center once more, with the intentions of starting a new game.

“…Only two. My father, and the owner of a fighting pit.” Regulus responded after a long pause, staring at his side of the board carefully.

“When did you have the chance to play Chess against a fighting pit owner?”

“When my father sold me to him to show me how cruel the real world can be.”

“…Ah.”

The parlor keeper hesitated for a moment as he glanced above the edge of the veil at his opponent’s masked face as a sense of suspicion began to rise in his chest. The young man’s brief admission of his past, coupled with his weapons and the apparent desire to hide his identity, seemed to lead to a rather obvious conclusion.

“Are you…an escaped slave?” He asked cautiously, afraid that he had unknowingly harbored a fugitive of some sort.

“No. I won my freedom.” The other man responded simply, which caused the owner’s curiosity to pique once more.

“In an arena fight?” He inquired further, as he lifted up the veil between them.

“In a Chess match.” Regulus answered back, while taking one of his rabble pieces and moving it forward.

This caused the parlor owner to think for a moment. What sort of man would risk the ownership of one of his slaves in a simple board game?

“…I would like to hear this story, if you would be so kind as to tell it.” The aged man requested, waiting until his opponent finally gave a slow nod before speaking further. “Was this pit owner good at Chess?”

“Yes. But I was better. He offered me my freedom on the condition that I risk and wager everything on that Chess match. I thought he meant to kill me if I lost, or keep me as a slave forever. It didn’t matter, I knew I could beat him, so I accepted without hesitation.” The masked man explained. “It wasn’t until the game was well under way that he went into greater detail on what was being risked.”

The parlor keeper looked up at him expectantly as one of his spearmen moved to capture his opponent’s rabble, eager to hear more. The Prince’s eyes carefully followed the piece as it was picked up and moved off the board, a hardness beginning to form around his throat. He silently wondered why it was he was telling a stranger all of this, before deciding that it was likely because he never intended to set foot in ths realm of sands again.

“…Every single one of my Chess pieces represented someone I knew from the fighting pits. Fellow slaves I had spent years surviving alongside. If a piece of mine was captured by him, the slave assigned to it would be forced into a one-sided arena fight in which he would most likely die.” The Prince murmured softly as he stared solemnly at the board.

The man across from him, dumbfounded, looked down at the pieces in front of them.

“That…is no longer a game.” He commented in a low tone.

“It was to him.” The masked man responded.

It was then that the younger man began to recall the vivid memory of his pit owner’s sly smile, as he eagerly pointed to the sand that gradually slipped down the hourglass beside them. And whenever the glaring pit slave would finally force his trembling hand to move one of his pieces forward, he would silently cry through his red and watering eyes, though his greyed and stony cheeks could no longer feel the warm wetness of tears.

Looking towards a similar set of hourglasses that idly drained away beside them now, the masked man paused for a moment longer before speaking again.

“I won the match while trying to lose as few pieces as possible…but few games of Chess can be won without losing any. So I challenged my master to another match after that, wagering the freedom I had just earned. If I won, he would provide my friends with better weapons in their fight, and if I won again after that, better armor, and if I won yet a third time, they would be given more days to rest and prepare.” The Prince continued his story quietly, as he captured his opponent’s catapult with his elephant piece. “I continued to place bet after bet against him. I don’t remember how many games of Chess I won that night, but I tried to do everything I could to ensure that some of the people I sacrificed might still have a chance to survive.”

The parlor keeper looked up at the masked and grey-hooded man slowly, his mouth feeling dry. “Did any?”

The younger man closed his eyes for a moment before looking away. “…No.”

It was at this point that the owner began to realize why the man had sat alone at a table for hours, idly rearranging his pieces and tiles over and over. He was probably replaying that same match hundreds of times in his head, trying to see if he could have found a better starting strategy. Trying to find out if he could have saved more lives.

“…Why did your father sell you off as a slave to a fighting pit owner?”

“For the blood I carry. He wanted to know If the blood I carry would make me stronger”

“The blood? You are a...”

The Prince sighed, reaching up and lightly touching the cloth that hung over his face. He decided that since he had already told the parlor owner this much, there was little point in withholding more, and gradually lifted up the mask to reveal what lay underneath. Lowering his mask back down quickly, The Prince glanced to the side as he recognized a lightly armored figure waving to him in the distance. A fellow sellsword, and his gesture meant that it was almost time for the caravan to begin setting out.

“I’m going to marry some beauty from this land and then I'll return to my fatherland to claim my rightful place. I doubt we’ll see each other again, but thank you for the games.” The grey-hooded man said as he stood up, removing a few coins from his satchel and placing them on the board. But as he moved to leave, a hand reached out and clasped his wrist. “…But I hate Chess.”

As he walked away towards his waiting companion, the masked man turned to look back at the parlor. He recalled playing a game of Chess in a similar establishment against a similarly older man who had given him a very similar offer, many years ago.

“Tell me boy, do you like Chess?” His father had asked him the first time they had met, when the prince had climbed up onto the parlor stool across from him as a child. The truth was, even as a child, he had never particularly enjoyed the game. But as he watched the fascination in the man’s eyes grow more and more with each match they played, the boy forced himself to grin widely and exclaim, “Yes! I love Chess.” It was the first lie that the Prince had ever remember telling. And he had been paying for it ever since.