Medieval rp IC (private)

[Quazin the Great]

This is the In character ones

[Ben M]

Come one come all to the kings tourney in the imperial city.

This tourney is hosted by the king in honor of the long ago king Trel our current king's ancestor. if you have a fighter you would like to champion yourself, bring him with you.

The King of Fascilica.

The royal scribes worked fervently to copy 40 copies of these and sent them on birds to the clans of Ballan and the richest patrons of Ythalita.

[Quazin the Great]

Rodney, chancellor of Gorhart, was walking along main street when he heard a shout. he turned around and saw a man running towards him, holding up a letter and shouting his name. the man caught up to Rodney and was clearly exhausted from running. he wore a messengers garb. "catch your breath son" he said, "whats the hurry? new to the job huh?", the man, having caught his breath, looked up, "How did you know? is it that obvious?" he said, breathing heavily. Rodney laughed, "course it is, the green ones are always chasing. the seasoned ones just find. You'll learn it eventually. now whats this letter you brought me?" The messenger handed the letter to Rodney, "It's a letter from Facilica sir.", Rodney took the letter, "Ahhhh... Facilica hmmm? Let me see here-" he opened the letter with a flourish, after taking a second to read it over he smiled, "ah! a tourney! what fun!" he took out a pen, flipped the letter over and scribbled something down. he then folded it together and handed it to the messenger, "find Rothiar. He'll be in the dueling hall, most likely killing someone. Show him this and tell him to find me. Then go find Grimald, same hall, and do the same. we'll need a jouster", "yes sir." the messanger said before hurrying off. Rodney turned around and continued in the same direction he had been going, stroking his handlebar mustache as he did so.

Dear King of Facilica,
We are gracious in our thanks to you for inviting us to yet another of your wonderful tourneys. We are honored to be invited to the birthday of your ancestor. I and my fellow leaders will be there in a few days, and with us we bring some of our finest jousters and duelists. We also bring some of those sugarplouts that you love so much. We look forward to the days ahead of us.
from,
Audric, The Head Chancellor of Mel Senshir

[Ben M]

The king of Fasilica read the slip and slapped his belly. "Excellent! Have the finest rooms prepare for them! They are artists right? Well then give them the finest we have to show them how wonderful our nation is! Im sure our art cannot impress them but we must try! Duke Leto,"
"Yes, your grace?"
"You are to greet their party and escort them here, bring a company of knights."
Leto looked shocked,
"Your grace you know how i hate the arts, I'm friendly with these people only because i must be, please do not ask me to share the road with their snobbishs sculptors and artists. Those people do not understand the hardships of life."
The king glared angrily, "Leto you will do as you are told. Now go."
Leto left the room grumbling angrily as his cape swish behind him.

The king stood up groaning slightly. "Duke Martel? How do the preparations go?" Martel looked at the king absently. "They go well your grace"

"Excellent" the king proclaimed burping loudly as he drained his goblet of wine. "This tourney will last in the legends! As will my bely when I'm done with those candies!"

[Drakmah]

As Alathos DeGrey was sifting through his daily stack of letters and papers he came upon a letter from Fasilica. He slowly popped the wax seal that held the letter closed and unfolded it with care and read the letter.

"Hmm a tourney" he said "I.... dont think we have anyone qualified enough in our immediate army."

He called for his secretary who was "supposed" to know everything, and normally did.

"Do you know of any mercenaries in the area that might be able to attend a tourney under our flag?" he asked

"Well sir" responded his secretary "I do believe that there are a few that would have have the skill required to match that of the the Fasilican jousters, but other than jousting i dont know any others who would do well, although this tourney might just be jousting, so im not really sure it matters."

"i dont know either, contact those mercs and offer them a low amount of money, be prepared to at least quadruple it, the low price will enrage them so much they will respond almost immediately, then slowly raise it and they will accept, i guarantee you. Now, i have a letter to write to Fasilica."

He dismissed his secretary and sat down to write his letter

To the King of Fasilica

We will be sending a small amount of trained jousters for the tourney, I am also asking for you to allow merchants to come and set up shops with food and merchandise to sell, 10% of their total profits will go to me, and you are free to charge them your tax rate as well, they are aware that they must pay both tax rates. Hopefully we can make this work.

-Alathos DeGrey

He then sealed up the letter and placed it in his out box.

[Ben M]

King Tyri rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Da-neid! What would be an acceptable rate for taxing these merchants?"

"Your Grace, currently we do not tax individual sales. However for these merchants we could make an accept ion, a sort of tariff perhaps? We cannot make it to high or they will be offended, I'm thinking to match their 20%. Any domestic merchants are exempt from that tax of course. Tis will ensure we have the competitive edge when we are selling equal goods."

The King scratched his head thinking. "Very well Da-neid. I shall do such a thing. Now i want you to ride out and greet them in the customary fashion of your old nation!"

"Yes Your Grace" Da-neid left followed by his entourage. The king turned to Duke Ytrys and frowned.
"It says here that they are only involving themselves in the joust! This disappoints me. but what can we do. Ytrys i want you to be on full alert regarding these merchants. I do not want them scamming my subjects. Normally i would entrust Da-neid but in this case i cannot."

"Of course Your Grace." The king sat back in his throne and allowed his belly to protrude. "Ah well. Hopefully they will bring some fine southern wine!"

[Ben M]

Duke leto was annoyed. While he didn't mind the cold he hated his mission.

"Sir" Two scouts rode up " We have spotted the Dalentari. Those lazy bastards are riding in slow ass chariots and appear to be enjoying themselves quite handily." Leto was livid.
"Chariots! CHARIOTS! I RIDE MY FROZEN ARSE OUT HERE WHILE THOSE PATHETIC ARTIST LAZILY COME AT A SNAILS PACE IN CHAROITS! WELL WE SHALL SEE ABOUT THIS."

Leto pulled away from the main group galloping towards the artists Shouting. His attendants blew their trumpets and rode behind him eventually circling the caravan of Dalentari. LEto dismounted at the head.

"I must speak to the leader of your party. This is ridiculous."

[Quazin the Great]

"HALT!!!!" one of the Dalentarthi men shouted, "HOLD". The entire company stopped, and the men on the outer sides and front slammed down their tower shields and hooked them together in unison, creating two loud BOOMS and an impenitrable wall of metal, "and who might you be?" said the man who had shouted, "and what are your reasons for halting our procession?"

[Ben M]

Leto looked incredulously at the man who spoke,

"WHO AM I? WHO AM I? HOW DARE YOU INSULT ME WITH SUCH A LOW BASED QUESTION-" Leto was cut off by his Lt. who tapped him on the shoulder and whispered "Sire my men count 161 of them, I recommend you watch your tone." Leto gulped, took a breath and haughtily glared at the chariot.
"I am Duke Leto, Defender of the North, Descendant of Raxton the Just and other kings. I am King Trels right hand man. I am the slayer of criminals and the ally of honor. I am here to escort you to the Imperial city. I am merely extremely disappointed in your choice of transportation. Now follow me to the imperial city." At this he mounts his horse, whips his horse around around in a dramatic buck as his horse neighs and trots down the road with out looking back.

[Ben M]

MEANWHILE

Da-neid lazily scratched his beard as his elephant meandered down the grand southern road. His stomach growled and he grabbed a grape stem and picked it clean. He smiled lazily and relaxed on his trip. He closed his eyes and went to sleep. Only to be awakened 5 minutes later by his scout telling him that the Ythalitans were 10 minutes off. He grinned and signaled for the pace to pick up and sure enough he saw the Ythalitans in the distance. He met them and slowed shouted down.

"Hello old friend! How is good old Ythalita? I am a duke now! It is excellent! You must come aboard old Renly here (He tapped the elephant at this) Its quite the ride. Let us now go to the imperial city"

[Quazin the Great]

The men did not move. "do you have proof of this?" The one who had shouted asked. "how do we know your not a bandit? I've never seen one before, but i here they're common in these parts."

[Ben M]

At this leto stopped. The 16 knights stared incredulously. Leto turned to face the man who spoke. "My rides are free of bandits. My blood is pure of ANY such heresy or treason. If you accuse me of such filth again I will have that pathetic head of yours. Now follow me, or get lost." Leto turned and trotted off. The 16 knights continued staring dumbfounded that anyone could be so rude and disrespectful to such a hero as Leto.

[Drakmah]

As his old friend came into view Alathos smiled. He pulled on the reigns and his horse slid to a halt, he dismounted and handed the reigns to the person next to him.

"Hello Da-neid! How goes the journey under the hot sun?"

He then kindly slapped the side of the elephant looking for the drop of the rope latter.

[Ben M]

Da-neid chuckled, "Still have a sense of humor I see. Well i will give you a piece of advice, refrain from using it around a man named Leto. That one has a skull thicker than Renly. Jokes bounce off it faster than a copper coin off a Ythalitan merchants hand! ah, its so good to see someone intelligent about the ways of commerce my friend! You would not believe how naive my king is! mark my words he will bleed your merchants dry." The two friends set off on their relaxing voyage."

[Quazin the Great]

"did i say something wrong?" the soldier said to another soldier next to him, "not as far as I can see sir", the first man shrugged and called back to someone behind him, "should we follow them?", "sure why not" a deep voice responded. the shields unhitched and they continued on.

[Garfunclia]

The people of Garfunclia graciously accept the option to travel to Fascila sometime.

[Quazin the Great]

Meanwhile

"Hear that Malin? there are bandits about!", One of the duelists suddenly said to the other man sitting across from him. Malin, a shorter than average man wearing a silk suit and large feather hat, laughed loudly, "No Rylan, it was just a lordling. However, we should keep our guard up, just in case", He paused and smiled, "Whats that you said about Audric's mother!?!?", Rylan, a wiry, well built man with intricate scarring patterns all over his body, leapt onto the table and drew his dueling sword with a flourish, "I said that she's a perfectly fine lady of moderate stature!", "How dare you!" Malin yelled leaping onto the bouncing table, opposite of Rylan, and also drawing his sword, "I must duel you, for the sake of my lady's honor!", He lunged at the man opposite him, and Ryan tilted his head to the side. A line of blood apeared on his cheek, "Thank you. My face has been uneven like that for a week. Nice cut.", He knocked the sword aside and they began to fight, laughing as they did so. They both balanced precariously on the table, leaping over the each-others blades and doing backflips, moving dangerously close to the edges of the table. after a few minutes, Malin began juggling his sword, throwing it up into the air, dodging, catching, lunging and parrying. Their laughter echoed along the mountain road.

The onlookers, for everyone was watching now, laughed with them, delighted by the show. Suddenly, there was a yelp of surprise and Malin tripped and fell off of the table, landing on the ground below. Rylan bowed to the crowd as Malin got up, dusted off and vaulted back onto the table. they shook hands and sat down at the table, each taking another glass of wine. The show had lasted for near 20 minutes.

[Ben M]

Deleted)

[Ben M]

Leto watched as his honor was insulted again by these "duelists". He was unimpressed by their performance because thats exactly what it was. After 5 minutes of this cocky display he inwardly sighed and thought to himself about how happy he would be when he took them over the high passes. This passes have little to no roads and are plagued by snowstorms and animals. The display continued and Leto groaned as et another oppurtunity to finish it was missed by one if the "duelists". Leto looked around making sure no one was watching him, but they were. So he had to keep viewing this pathetic show. ah well. It ended after an excruciatingly boring hour. Leto stood. "Gentlemen thank you for such a gift to my old tired eyes! Now I must gft u! But the eyes have already been taken an I do not have your talents, and I doubt you want a practical or useful gift, so I must give a gift to your ears! Baelor grab your lute!"

[Quazin the Great]

That night they set up camp, leading the procession in a circle, and constructing the tower shields as a large circular wall surrounding the chariots. They set up 2 bonfires at the center of the circle, with room enough between them for entertainment. At all times, 30 guards maned the wall. Everyone was having a merry time, drinking wine and eating some of the best foods that Dalentarth had to offer. After a few minutes of the feast, Audric, the head chancellor, stood up and tapped his wine glass and the conversation decreased to a lull. He coughed as though to clear his throat and with a rich baritone voice, he spoke, "First of all I'd like to make a toast to Rylan and Malin, for making our journey much more enjoyable," he raised his glass and the two men stood up and bowed. Audric waited for the applause to stop and for the two men to take their seats before continuing, "Now, onto more serious business. I understand that Rothiar and Bestal wish to have a chance at increasing their rankings, or more frankly put, to break the tie of their rankings. I understand that this is not a normal arena, but we do have qualified judges, so I'll make an exception. Rothiar and Bestal, if you will." He bowed elegantly, with both arms sweeping towards the circle at the center. The crowd applauded as two of men stood up and walked to either side of the makeshift arena. "Well Rothiar. It seems this tie may finally break." One of the man said as he drew his Rapier with a flourish and saluted his opponent: a tall, wiry man, wearing only a sleeveless tunic colored with confusing wavy lines. As he stepped into the light, the fire illuminated his countless scars, which covered his bear skin in mysterious patterns. The light moved to his face, revealing his most prized achievement, a scar than ran from his upper cheek to his eyelid to his brow. The eye itself was untouched. He gave a small laugh and responded with a bow and a salute, "yes Bestal. It seems that way doesn't it?". Bestal was a man of similar height and build, wearing a jerkin that seemed to change color as he moved. He smiled crookedly and began to circle Rothiar. Rothiar did the same. Time seemed to slow and the crowd held their breath, waiting in anticipation for the first strike.

[Garfunclia]

Meanwhile in Garfuncle City…

Someone pounds at the door. Three swift, yet patient knocks ring throughout the house. Saria recognizes the pattern. There’s only one person other than him that knocks like that. Only one person other in the city would be awake this deep into the night. He turns his back on the constellations and takes his hands off the windowsill. He tiptoes down the stairs, careful not to wake his sleeping wife and daughter. He takes the chain off his door, and opens it up. There stood King Garfuncle XVII. “To what pleasure do I owe of seeing you here, your majesty”, said Saria sarcastically. Garfuncle XVII looks down and just smiles. He pauses for a moment as he looks into his childhood friend’s laughing eyes. “It’s been too long Saria, far too long. How’s life been treating you, my dear friend?” Saria says, “I’ve learned a thing or two since the last time we’ve spoken. It always seems to go on. How does it feel to have been king for nearly a year now Gar?” Garfuncle XVII chuckles softly, “It’s definitely a lot harder than I thought it would be. It feels so weird having people think of me as more interesting than them for once. Do you mind of I come in?” Saria looks toward the stairs, “Wouldn’t want to wake the family, why don’t we go outside, maybe take a midnight stroll around the city?” Garfuncle looks painfully into his friend’s eyes. He says, “I was at your wedding a few months ago, Saria. I didn’t forget. I’m not sure if you noticed me there. Just know I would never forget a day that important to you.” Saria looks painfully at his king, “I know you wouldn’t. I’m sorry for mentioning the family thing. Don’t worry about it Gar. You can’t even fathom what life has in store for you. Trust me. There’s someone out there for you.” Garfuncle XVII wipes a tear off his cheek as he gazes out at the forest in the distance. He painfully utters one word, “Someday.” “So what’s on your mind Gar? What brings you here tonight?” The king says, “I’ve been contacted by a civilization from across the ocean. Apparently a lot has changed since Garfuncle I departed from those lands. There was a war many years ago. New nations have been thriving there for a long while now. The tyrants are no longer in power. I’ve been invited to visit a country by the name of Fascila.” Saria remains silent for a moment as he processes everything he has just learned. “So I’m assuming you want me to go with you?” Garfuncle says, “Only if you bring your family with you. I know how hard it would be on you to leave them behind.” “As much as I need them, I wouldn’t want to uproot their lives here for a mere trip. Should we be back for Aurora’s Eve?” “If that is what you wish, then it will be so my friend”, says the king. Saria gives Garfuncle XVII his signature, adventurous grin. “Then count me in."

[Quazin the Great]

Suddenly, Rothiar lunged, covering the distance in an instant and doing a backflip imedidiatly afterwards to dodge Bestal's riposte. they began to fight, sparks flying from the collisions of their rapiers like fireflies in the night. Their movements were so fast that they seemed to blur, leaning onlookers in awe, with no chance to understand who had the upperhand. They danced with no lead, with the sound of clashing metal as their only music. Lines of red appeared on their skin, with no register of the blade that wrote them, such was the speed that they attacked. Their blades seemed to disapear and reapear, leaving white lines floating in the air as though they were cutting the wind itself. The red ink continued to draw, scribing alien patterns and words across their skin, meaningless glyphs that shined in the firelight. seconds passed like minutes, the crowd silent, unsure of who had the upper hand. Audric stood up and gave a single clap, the signal for the thirty second mark. Thirty seconds until it was a draw. The only responce from the men was to dance faster, write faster, creating whirlwinds of sparks that mingled with the ones from the fire and filled the air above. Rothiar bent over backwards, a line of red appearing on his throaght. the crowd Ghasped. Rothiar turned the dodge into a backwards vault and lunged forwards, twirling his sword. 3 seconds left. Bestal's sword flew from his hand, flipping into the air. With a low, single heeled spin, Rothiar caught it with his open hand. Audric clapped again. The duel was over, and both swords were at Bestal's throaght. There was silence for a full five seconds, and noone moved or spoke, all were stunned at what they had just seen. "Congradulations Rothiar." Audric said quietly, clearly as stunned as everyone else was, "You are the new master of combat" He began to clap and the applause grew to a thunderous roar. Rothiar returned Bestal's sword and they shook hands, both clearly exhausted from both physical exertion and bloodloss. Those of the art of surgury went to stitch up the two fighter's wounds. The Conversation was double what it had been at the beginning of the feast, and many toasts were made for the new master and his fight of the century.

[Ben M]

After a few minutes of toasts a youn knight by then name of lance called out "a toast! A toast from the duke of the north!" The knights qieted everyone and they could make out a lute playing suddenly Leto"a voice sounded out singing a slow mournful song.
""

[Ben M]

Leto was hunched over his fire outside the main camp. A rabbit he had caught was roasting, though the smell couldn't reach the Dalentari. A man with a rosewood lute (Not dalentari made, you can't ell because the e string is EVER so slightly out of tune) is strumming.., Leto's voice is low and mournful. as he sings he warms himself by the fire.

"Belle was a dalentari maid,
Yet she was so afraid,
Lonely and without love,
A hand without a glove,

Lonely belle did toil,
through earth and through soil.
Yet not in earth could she find,
a man with a like mind.

Ol’e belle was so distraught,
she turned her mind to thought.
And decided that she must be bold,
and turned her love to stone so cold."

At this point he let off and took a bite from the rabbit. The lute player stifled a giggle then kept playing.

"Her eyes did let loose a flood,
of tears and of her blood,
her hand grabbed chisel,
and chiseled stone in a swizzle.

Stone flew from her house,
sweat and blood did rouse,
the feeling in her empty head,
that here loneliness was to be dead.

After many hours she stepped back,
only to see her creations lack,
of something needed and something necessary,
life; from basic chemistry. "

At this point numerous knights were sniggering at the Dalentari. Leto glared at them and the stopped, putting on a somber expression. Leto took another bite of rabbit.

"Yet in her silly love,
she saw this as a dove,
and loved the stone
as two bodies become one."

At this point a younger knight Burst into raucous laughter causing the others to start laughing at him. Leto still looked somber. All the knights joined in now, doing a rowdy jig with a partner mimicking a woman dancing with a statue. A few even made stupid faces at the dalentari all the time while laughing.

"Yet some people did see,
the errors of her mind absentee.
so Duke Frael came to her then,
and told her she was dumb as a wren.

She told the duke to piss off,
that his was just jealous.
The duke was scorned,
and so to leave he yearned.

Once he was gone old belle,
did nothing but her live and dwell,
with her new husband,
a staute that looked like a man.
Yet nothing lasts forever,
and belle began to whither,
as her husband eroded,
belle stopped eating and so she imploded.

For in her silly unpractical romance,
she forgot the practical trance,
of actually living a life that meant something,
and so after she died her contributions meant nothing."

Then Everyone snapped to a straight attention and motioned towards the Dalentari like a parent lecturing a child. all had mock serious faces.

"But the farmers had children,
and the knights kept them safe,
and in the end it was not art that prevailed,
but the everyday people who lived their lives practically."

At this the lute player burst into a solo. Leto stood. Bowed to the Dalentari and took the rest of the rabbit to his tent. The knights were out of control now dancing laughing and shouting with each other. They then started to call for an encore.

[Quazin the Great]

The Dalentari were silent. It was their custom to only clap when presented a song worthy of it. Many were simply unimpressed by Leto's voice and his accompaniments playing. "was it a good statue?" a man from the company called out. Another man looked to the man next to him, "was that supposed to be a song?" many of the Dalentari laughed.