Post by Avaerilon on Mar 31, 2013 13:42:22 GMT
This is the RP thread. If you haven't already stated your interest and wish to join, please post in the OOC sign-up thread. Otherwise, I'll delete your post P-)
"It is a dark time for the Kingdom of Vymalia. Prince Dallion has found himself thrust-upon the throne as his revered and kind father, King Elvarn the Wise, has been taken hostage by an unknown foe. The new king's advisors tell him different things- mercenaries looking for booty planned it, one of the numerous kingdoms that have waged-wars on Vymalia in the past are to blame, or the shadowy Council of the Elders, a body of sorcerers and necromancers most foul, spirited the good king away to some distant and horrid land. However, the weight of the crown upon the young king's head has been lifted. Friendly nations have pledged themselves to finding the king, and at this moment one of them, Avaerilon, is sending a group of interesting characters to investigate..."
Avaerilon; Castell y Ddraig (Dragon Castle), Avalon
King Aubrey flipped-through the large volume in his hands, the sound of the thick parchment echoing throughout the vast court. Usually, he would have had to have dealt with a horde of people petitioning him for something. "Sire, we need more grain to export!" "My king, perchance you could lend the guild some Aubs this year?" "Lord of my lord, do you know where I can get a dragon like yours?" Sometimes he got a headache from the whining. Still, it was empty today and he had a chance to read A Tale of Winter again. The only thing to disturb him was the crackling of the fire and Alwed's snoring (his dragon). After all, a 35-foot giant lizard isn't too quiet.
He was just about to turn to the next chapter when the iron-studded door was thrust open.
"My liege! My liege!"
Cadwallon, his chief advisor, nearly tripped over his velvet robes he was running so fast, a scroll clutched in his hand.
"Ill tidings from Vymalia, my king. King Elv-, Ki-"
He panted, trying to get his breath back.
"Take it easy, Cadwallon. There you are. Now, what's wrong? Is Elvarn all right?"
Aubrey rose from his throne and steered the rasping man over to a bench by the cavernous fire, Alwed waking-up and padding after them.
"Sire," said Cadwallon, once he'd regained his breath.
"King Elvarn has been, well, kidnapped!"
"Kidnapped? God and Gods... are you sure?"
"Yn wir. I wish it were not so, but sometime after midnight, the servants in his palace heard a loud crash and some scuffling. The guards outside tried to open the door, but the king was cautious 'gainst treachery and kept it locked. When they did throw the doors open, and it took a big man to do so, they found his bed empty, with the window smashed, the thrown thrown-down 'pon the flags and a black skull upon the desk."
Aubrey leant back, frowning.
"A black skull... the old men used to give the spouse of a noble man a black skull if they wanted ransom for him. A sign of kidnap. Ychafi"
"Ydw, noble lord."
The young king rose, with Cadwallon struggling after him.
"Something is not quite right, Cadwallon."
"Lord?"
"Surely a note would have sufficed? Something dark is at play here, and normal doings won't solve it."
"My liege, if I may, perhaps it really is as simple as-"
"Then why is my gut telling me is isn't? Anyway, I'd rather not chance it. Hold on a moment."
He strode towards the throne, and some bright light flowed from his fingers. The great throne glowed white, before moving backwards, to reveal a spiral staircase going down.
"The Den of Kings? I did not believe it existed, sire!"
"There are some things only a king will know. In here, my forbears kept whatever they felt was to be most safely-guarded; swords, treasure, books, even acorns from the Trees of Gold. I keep my private study here."
Aubrey descended into the chamber, and a moment later, returned.
"I... I appreciate you telling me this, sire."
"I would trust you with the world, Cadwallon. You're my friend and my advisor. If I didn't trust you, you wouldn't be here, and I likely would be a lesser king. Now, this note,"
He said, passing a small piece of vellum to his advisor.
"We need every man on this to find the king. I feel any action I or my government took would be for nought. These men are good at what they do. They'll be in the Citadel today, probably in taverns, inns, libraries, anywhere else. Give them each one of these,"
He said, handing several notes to Cadwallon.
"and tell them to wait in Yr Hen Llew for a man called Al."
"I will sire." Said Cadwallon, nodding.
"And there's one last thing; only you and a few others of your choice can know about it."
The two men walked towards the Oak Chamber, the holy place of the castle, as the light turned blue in the afternoon sky.
***
Avaerilon; Yr Hen Llew inn, Avalon
"What's taking them so long? I've been here an hour already," moaned Gadath, a thin,fox-like man, cloaked in black wool.
"And I've been here for two, and you don't hear me complaining," replied a large, muscle-bound man wearing ringmail and leathers, Dyncan.
"They're still probably trying to round-up the rest of us. We're getting paid by the King himself, and he's a good and honest man, so what are we losing by waiting in a nice pub for a couple of hours?"
"The ale is pretty damn good, yn bod yn onest." Admitted Gadath.
Their conversation was interrupted by a somewhat sullen-looking, long-haired and scruffy-
"-ranger, right? You're the ranger?" Asked Gadath of the man.
"Your eyes work. Good, because you're the sneak, and you need them to."
"Scout, thank you. And there's no need to be so grumpy. Why, the king's paying us a fine handful of gold to sit here and drink-"
"Says the man who was moaning like a fishwife!" Laughed Dyncan.
"Name's Dyncan, knight. This here is Gadath, our Dunmer sneak. Who might you be, friend?"
He passed a full tankard of amber ale towards the ranger, who smiled and drank deep, before answering.
"Rowan ap Alistair. I am indeed a ranger, and by my count, we're only one man short."
"That wizard. One who can actually fight. Astral or something." Mused Gadath, his red eyes scrunched-up trying to remember the other man's name.
"Al. A young guy, but well-versed in everything, and supposed to be good with a blade. Sounds like a man I'd like to have on my side." Said Dyncan.
At that point, the lacquered door of the inn opened, and in strode a tall, bearded young man, wearing a purple cloak and carrying a fine bastard-sword.
"Prynhawn da, gentlemen."
"Wizards- you always know when to show up and who's who, right?" Said Dyncan.
"Meh, he's just guessing. As we say in Morrowind, three men of different cloaks at the bar are either adventurers, poor mercenaries or just unlucky. Give you four Aubs if you guess our names and jobs."
"An easy bet for anyone, though I don't recommend you bet 'gainst a wizard," Laughed Rowan.
"Why not ask him to tell you where we're all from and something about ourselves? You might as well get your money's worth."
The wizard smiled.
"I'm game if you are, Gadath."
"... fine. 4 Aubs if you do all of that right, no mistakes."
"Well, let's see, you're Gadath, the Dunmer from Balmora, and our scout. Probably tossed-into gaol a few times for theft, and not a fan of your native shein wine. Then," Al said, turning to Rowan.
"This is Rowan the ranger. Older than he looks, and probably spent most of his life out in the wilderness. Never married, but has soft-spot in that heart of this for young, sweet ladies."
Then he swept-round with a flourish and turned to Dyncan.
"Dyncan here is the knight hired for his swordsmanship and practical experience. Noble father, but more into questing than administration. You, sir, have a younger brother who will one day be a powerful man- Patrician, perhaps."
Dyncan and Rowan cheered and banged the bar, but Gadath sat there open-mouthed. After a brief moment, he dug into his pocket and pulled-out a few grubby gold coins.
"How did you do that? About the shein?"
"Simple., really. They have the best stuff at half-price, yet you've seated yourself as far away form it as possible, and are only having ale. You come from Balmora, which means you had ample time to try it, but obviously never liked it, or you'd be knee-deep in it by now."
"I say, you look somewhat familiar," Said Dyncan, getting a proper look at the wizard's face.
"Haven't I seen you somewhere before?"
"What's important is where you'll see me next. Mountain path, or through the woodlands, gentlemen? We have a king to find."
***
"It is a dark time for the Kingdom of Vymalia. Prince Dallion has found himself thrust-upon the throne as his revered and kind father, King Elvarn the Wise, has been taken hostage by an unknown foe. The new king's advisors tell him different things- mercenaries looking for booty planned it, one of the numerous kingdoms that have waged-wars on Vymalia in the past are to blame, or the shadowy Council of the Elders, a body of sorcerers and necromancers most foul, spirited the good king away to some distant and horrid land. However, the weight of the crown upon the young king's head has been lifted. Friendly nations have pledged themselves to finding the king, and at this moment one of them, Avaerilon, is sending a group of interesting characters to investigate..."
Avaerilon; Castell y Ddraig (Dragon Castle), Avalon
King Aubrey flipped-through the large volume in his hands, the sound of the thick parchment echoing throughout the vast court. Usually, he would have had to have dealt with a horde of people petitioning him for something. "Sire, we need more grain to export!" "My king, perchance you could lend the guild some Aubs this year?" "Lord of my lord, do you know where I can get a dragon like yours?" Sometimes he got a headache from the whining. Still, it was empty today and he had a chance to read A Tale of Winter again. The only thing to disturb him was the crackling of the fire and Alwed's snoring (his dragon). After all, a 35-foot giant lizard isn't too quiet.
He was just about to turn to the next chapter when the iron-studded door was thrust open.
"My liege! My liege!"
Cadwallon, his chief advisor, nearly tripped over his velvet robes he was running so fast, a scroll clutched in his hand.
"Ill tidings from Vymalia, my king. King Elv-, Ki-"
He panted, trying to get his breath back.
"Take it easy, Cadwallon. There you are. Now, what's wrong? Is Elvarn all right?"
Aubrey rose from his throne and steered the rasping man over to a bench by the cavernous fire, Alwed waking-up and padding after them.
"Sire," said Cadwallon, once he'd regained his breath.
"King Elvarn has been, well, kidnapped!"
"Kidnapped? God and Gods... are you sure?"
"Yn wir. I wish it were not so, but sometime after midnight, the servants in his palace heard a loud crash and some scuffling. The guards outside tried to open the door, but the king was cautious 'gainst treachery and kept it locked. When they did throw the doors open, and it took a big man to do so, they found his bed empty, with the window smashed, the thrown thrown-down 'pon the flags and a black skull upon the desk."
Aubrey leant back, frowning.
"A black skull... the old men used to give the spouse of a noble man a black skull if they wanted ransom for him. A sign of kidnap. Ychafi"
"Ydw, noble lord."
The young king rose, with Cadwallon struggling after him.
"Something is not quite right, Cadwallon."
"Lord?"
"Surely a note would have sufficed? Something dark is at play here, and normal doings won't solve it."
"My liege, if I may, perhaps it really is as simple as-"
"Then why is my gut telling me is isn't? Anyway, I'd rather not chance it. Hold on a moment."
He strode towards the throne, and some bright light flowed from his fingers. The great throne glowed white, before moving backwards, to reveal a spiral staircase going down.
"The Den of Kings? I did not believe it existed, sire!"
"There are some things only a king will know. In here, my forbears kept whatever they felt was to be most safely-guarded; swords, treasure, books, even acorns from the Trees of Gold. I keep my private study here."
Aubrey descended into the chamber, and a moment later, returned.
"I... I appreciate you telling me this, sire."
"I would trust you with the world, Cadwallon. You're my friend and my advisor. If I didn't trust you, you wouldn't be here, and I likely would be a lesser king. Now, this note,"
He said, passing a small piece of vellum to his advisor.
"We need every man on this to find the king. I feel any action I or my government took would be for nought. These men are good at what they do. They'll be in the Citadel today, probably in taverns, inns, libraries, anywhere else. Give them each one of these,"
He said, handing several notes to Cadwallon.
"and tell them to wait in Yr Hen Llew for a man called Al."
"I will sire." Said Cadwallon, nodding.
"And there's one last thing; only you and a few others of your choice can know about it."
The two men walked towards the Oak Chamber, the holy place of the castle, as the light turned blue in the afternoon sky.
***
Avaerilon; Yr Hen Llew inn, Avalon
"What's taking them so long? I've been here an hour already," moaned Gadath, a thin,fox-like man, cloaked in black wool.
"And I've been here for two, and you don't hear me complaining," replied a large, muscle-bound man wearing ringmail and leathers, Dyncan.
"They're still probably trying to round-up the rest of us. We're getting paid by the King himself, and he's a good and honest man, so what are we losing by waiting in a nice pub for a couple of hours?"
"The ale is pretty damn good, yn bod yn onest." Admitted Gadath.
Their conversation was interrupted by a somewhat sullen-looking, long-haired and scruffy-
"-ranger, right? You're the ranger?" Asked Gadath of the man.
"Your eyes work. Good, because you're the sneak, and you need them to."
"Scout, thank you. And there's no need to be so grumpy. Why, the king's paying us a fine handful of gold to sit here and drink-"
"Says the man who was moaning like a fishwife!" Laughed Dyncan.
"Name's Dyncan, knight. This here is Gadath, our Dunmer sneak. Who might you be, friend?"
He passed a full tankard of amber ale towards the ranger, who smiled and drank deep, before answering.
"Rowan ap Alistair. I am indeed a ranger, and by my count, we're only one man short."
"That wizard. One who can actually fight. Astral or something." Mused Gadath, his red eyes scrunched-up trying to remember the other man's name.
"Al. A young guy, but well-versed in everything, and supposed to be good with a blade. Sounds like a man I'd like to have on my side." Said Dyncan.
At that point, the lacquered door of the inn opened, and in strode a tall, bearded young man, wearing a purple cloak and carrying a fine bastard-sword.
"Prynhawn da, gentlemen."
"Wizards- you always know when to show up and who's who, right?" Said Dyncan.
"Meh, he's just guessing. As we say in Morrowind, three men of different cloaks at the bar are either adventurers, poor mercenaries or just unlucky. Give you four Aubs if you guess our names and jobs."
"An easy bet for anyone, though I don't recommend you bet 'gainst a wizard," Laughed Rowan.
"Why not ask him to tell you where we're all from and something about ourselves? You might as well get your money's worth."
The wizard smiled.
"I'm game if you are, Gadath."
"... fine. 4 Aubs if you do all of that right, no mistakes."
"Well, let's see, you're Gadath, the Dunmer from Balmora, and our scout. Probably tossed-into gaol a few times for theft, and not a fan of your native shein wine. Then," Al said, turning to Rowan.
"This is Rowan the ranger. Older than he looks, and probably spent most of his life out in the wilderness. Never married, but has soft-spot in that heart of this for young, sweet ladies."
Then he swept-round with a flourish and turned to Dyncan.
"Dyncan here is the knight hired for his swordsmanship and practical experience. Noble father, but more into questing than administration. You, sir, have a younger brother who will one day be a powerful man- Patrician, perhaps."
Dyncan and Rowan cheered and banged the bar, but Gadath sat there open-mouthed. After a brief moment, he dug into his pocket and pulled-out a few grubby gold coins.
"How did you do that? About the shein?"
"Simple., really. They have the best stuff at half-price, yet you've seated yourself as far away form it as possible, and are only having ale. You come from Balmora, which means you had ample time to try it, but obviously never liked it, or you'd be knee-deep in it by now."
"I say, you look somewhat familiar," Said Dyncan, getting a proper look at the wizard's face.
"Haven't I seen you somewhere before?"
"What's important is where you'll see me next. Mountain path, or through the woodlands, gentlemen? We have a king to find."
***
