NationStates Jolt Archive

OOC: Timeline: Middle Ages, Location: Kingdom of Tarlachia (long before Tarlachia became a democratic state).

IC:
King John sat upon his finely crafted throne, as he watched the hall before him. Seated at long tables running down the sides, sat the nobles of Tarlachia, all greedily chomping into legs of lamb, and drinking goblets of the finest wine in the land. The king was an imposing 6'0" figure, muscular, and had a determination in his character. He bore a scar that ran diagonally across his chest, left over from a battle with another king a few years ago. He had straight black hair, which hung halfway down his head, blue eyes that seemed to pierce the souls of those he looked upon, and was known to be wise and smart in his decisions.

Yet, the king was bored, despite the number of concubines that danced for his and the guests' entertainment. His personal concubine, Sophia danced in front of him, trying her best to keep her master entertained.

It wasn't that the king was tired of her. She herself was a stunning young woman, gifted with the assets of a beautiful woman. She was 5'7" tall, a 120 pound beauty with blue eyes, her skin tanned yet clear in its complexion, her hair shoulder lengthed and smooth and pulled into two low pigtails which hung over her shoulders slightly. Her body was covered in a brown soft leather dress attached to her shoulders by thin strips of leather. Her full bossom showed plentifully through a low V-cut. The bottom of the dress barely covers her rear, and flows with her movements. She also wore matching leather boots that cover up to the middle of her thighs. She wore no jewelery, and none was needed, as her own beauty shone through her despite the tough years she had been through.

He was, in fact, tired of living so richly, so inactively. He was only 36 years old, and still felt young. Nevertheless, the party was coming to an end, and for that the king was glad.

Leaning over, the king whispered to the servant at hand, who immediately clapped his hands double quick sucession. Servants seemed to come out of the shadows, and began to clear the tables. Some of the nobles beat the servants back, wanting more food to eat. The servants looked up at the head servant with a confused look upon their faces. With a scowl upon his face, the man quickly rushed over, and began to heatedly plead with some of the nobles.

King John stood and held his arms out as he spoke to the assembly:

"Ladies and gentlemen, thank you all for coming, but it is now time to end."

Waving Sophia closer he bent forward and whispered to her:

"Be in my quarters in twenty minutes."

OOC2: Sophia's role is already claimed by another, but we would like to see 3 or 4 others join in this thread as well. We need people to represent Nobles, Knghts, various other characters...

Sophia danced infront of her master. The other girls were jealous of her and his attention played on her. They talked about her, she was spit upon numerous times. But she had it so good. For their misbehavior they were thrashed with a whip, for hers she did not eat supper. The music was sort of arabic, one of the advisors must have got it for them to dance to. She didn't know and didn't care. This was her time. She was free. She floated with the music until it from stopped by the king. She remained emotionless, but on the inside her heart dropped.

To his quarters again. As she left her head hung. Her duty was this and this was all she knew. She stood by the bed and waited. Repeating the word duty in her head.

The king walked through the double doors to his quarters, closed the door behind him and walked to his wardrobe, where he promptly removed the ceremonial clothing, and carefully hangs it up. Normally he'd have had his servants do it for him, but he wanted his privacy for now. The crown was placed upon its blue velvet pillow, endorned with golden threads, and an embroidered emblem of the Kingdom, the head of a dragon.

Turning toward Sophia, he noted the look upon her face that she tried to hide.

"I hope you are not sad again. Would you rather I call in another concubine to replace you?"

John walked over to his window, and looked out upon his kingdom, the green fields stretching as far as the eye could see, and bordered to the west by a mountain range. Horses could be heard as the last of the nobles left the castle. A dog barked in the darkness, and almost instantly silenced by its unseen master.

Tag!!!

I'm a knight :D

tag

OOC: Can I play a Vassal Lord, in the Palace for a meeting with his King?

sure thing Kaukolastan, you'll fit right in with our plans... :D

sure thing Kaukolastan, you'll fit right in with our plans... :D
Hit me with a TG, so I know OOC what to expect, and can write better stuff for your story. :)

OOC: Check your TG's...Kaukolastan

EDIT: I sent you two different TGs.......

Sophia eyes widened.

"Would you rather I call in another concubine to replace you?"

She gasped. Another one to replace her. What would she do for food? Shelter? The other girls had side jobs they did to earn a little extra money for necessities. She started to hyperventilate. She never had to get those things for herself. She had grown up to do this and those things were provided for her.

Between gasps, "No...(gasp)...sir! I (gasp) love (gasp) my (gasp) job." She threw on a big smile and winked at King John. Her breathing becoming more relaxed with the motion of smiling. She was used to smiling her body was trained to do this.

She bowed before the king, "What would you like me to do?"

OOC: If ya like, I'll toss WA a TG... he's into this medevil stuff.

I'm in as a knight/rogue, or a rogue-ish knight if you prefer...

IC:

Sir (or whatever) Attis Bray dismounted his once-noble steed, which was now more of a gangly mare, a shadow of her former glory. Bray was possessed of a powerful build, encased in armor made from the highest quality mithrill (or steel, if this isn't fantasy), which shone brightly in the morning sun. His blade, Nos'Tralgon, hung at his side. It was of mysterious construction, being something of a cross between a broadsword and a longsword.

Bray spoke with a thick Irish accent to his horse, whispering something along the lines of 'We're almost there'...

Dakar sat within the servants passage of the Kings keep. He watched as the King threatened to replace Sophia. Perhaps he would, that would be best. Then Sophia could be his. Dakar had always had an eye for Sophia, yet she had never paid him any attention.

That did not stop Dakar from trying. He would have his Sophia, one way or the other. For now, he would watch from passages and behind corners, waiting for his time.

The king watched with an upturned eyebrow as Sophia begged for her presence to remain.

"What would you like me to do?"

The king replied, after a moment of consideration.

"Then you shall remain."

Walking over to his large bed, the King sat down, a tired look upon his face. Ruling a country was not easy, and its toll upon him could be seen. Looking back at the beautiful Sophia once again, he made up his mind.

"You shall loosen my muscles, for I am tired, yet tense."

The king lay down upon the bed, onto his stomach, as he waited for his massage.

As he waited for her to move, he asked her:

"Tell me, what is it about your service that you like or dislike?"

Sophia approached the bed in a manner that was more robotic. She had done this so many times. It was out of habit. She worked first on his shoulders, releasing the tension that builded up there. She dug her fingers into the knots and then rubbed the muscles to relax him. "It is not that I do not like my duty to the king. It is it is all I know. I cannot dislike it or love it. I grew up with it and I am good at it. Majesty, you should know of duty. Yours is to rule and mine is to serve." She worked her way down his back, paying special attention to areas of tense for him. She massaged them out. She worked down to his lower back. She stopped and coughed. "Excuse, me majesty. May I be excused to go get a drink of water?"

She left and exited out of the room. She pasted a fellow servent. His name was Dakar. Always in the shadow. "Hello there. Dakar. Are you on break also. I am going for a drink of water. Do you want to come with me?"

Dakar was shocked. Sophia actually knew his name and was being nice to him. Perhaps his dreams would be realised. Fighting back his nerves, Dakar spoke.

"Sure, it's been a long day."

He offered his muscled arm to escort the lovely Sophia down the hall.

Lord Alexander Merrin stood in the great hall, his hands clasped behind his back, staring at the tapestry on the southeast wall. Fifty-two years old now, the nobleman had left the field of battle for the court and culture. He still stood slightly tipped, as if expecting the weight of some vanished sword. His bristly gray mustache and thick graying hair were neatly kempt, and his clothes were fine, and his eyes glinted in a permanent smile. He tipped his head to the side, catching the tapestry at a new angle. Well, Gregory, old friend, I think he's doing well.

Merrin had served with King John's father for years, in war and peace, and had been his most trusted of knights and lords. As such, he had helped raise the young king, teaching him the martial skills and the beauty of art. As he had served the father, he now served the son, and his years of service had not gone unappreciated, as he had been given a high degree of autonimity and control of one of the wealthiest provinces. And he kept it in shape, bringing in constant revenue and support, as well as crafts, crops, and mining.

No concubine ever danced for him, though it was offered. He refused, not from spite, but from an unswerving loyalty to his wife. For that, he knew his counterparts snickered, but to Alexander Merrin, loyalty was everything, and marital fidelity was no less binding than his Vassal role. He heard footsteps behind him, and he guessed the pacing. It's a couple of servants.

He spoke aloud, facing away from them, but his deep voice booming with no effort. "Well, it's a little late, isn't it?" he asked, friendly. Even to the servants, he was kind and even, and there were few who disliked him. Makes sense. Treat your house well, and you need not fear treason. He turned from his art. "Any good happenings?" he asked the servants.

Tagged for future post or whatever...

Sophia jumped at the sound and the deep voice and moved closer to Dakar. Her intentions were innocent, but could be seen as not. "I am just getting a drink of water, sir." She would not look up. She scurried away. She went into the kitchen. She sat down on the chair. An empty glass infront of her. She let out a huge sigh. Dakar came in after her. "I really should get back to the King." She paused. "He could be asleep now. I can linger a bit. What were you going to do? Most of the other servents are asleep by now. I am not tired. What shall we do?"

Dakar sat down next to Sophia.

"I was just finishing off a few duties. We could go for a walk in the palace gardens, if you have time to spare?"

He knew the gardens were famous for couples to meet, but he hadn't considered that until the words parted his lips. Dakar silently cursed himself, hoping Sophia wouldn't take it the wrong way.

Standing silently in the palace gardens, a man wearing a long tunic and heavily cloaked stood sighing deeply, while glancing deeply at the fountain in the center. He was the none other than the Duke of Atreus, Henri Lafayette, one of the most powerful vassals of the King of Tarlachia. A brilliant administrator and tactician, Henri was not originally from Tarlachia, but was from France. Born in Normandy to a French knight and a British noblewomen, Henri became renowned for his brilliance. Travelling widely, the King of Tarlachia persuaded him to become his vassal. Working hard and loyally, Henri quickly was made a Duke and received a fief of a land known as Atreus...

Now, he had arrived to the Capital because of summons from the King. Standing mournfully in the gardens, Henri clutched in his right hand a letter written by his captain of the guard, detailing the death of his beloved wife. In shock, Henri could not accept the news and resolved to return home to Atreus as soon as he could...

Shortly after Sophia exited the room, another figure walked in.

The figure immediately dropped to one knee and bowed his head.

"My leige... it is I. Nathaniel."

The king slowly turned and nodded. "Yes knight. What is it?"

"I... am unsure of how to say this, but... it concerns the dancer Sophia and the servant Daker."

"Yes. What is it."

"There have been rumblings of Daker's... affection for the dancer."

Sophia's eyes brightened and widened. "I LOVE the garden! I would like to go with you. It has been awhile since I have seen the flowers. They must look magical under the moonlight tonight." She ran off and out of the palace. She skipped into the garden and went into a sprint. Not noticing where she was running, she ran into a man in the cloak. She knocked him over and she sprawled out on the garden floor. She got up and dusted off her dress. She still had on her dress, the one she called the red sexy number. The dress danced with her and about her body. Most places it was a second skin and others it just floated. She pulled it down and into place. She was in the presence of nobility, she could tell. She reached down and picked up the man's letter. She gave it to him. It was not her place to ask, but she did not care, "Why are you sad, sir?"

She paused and yelled, "Dakar I am in here." She turned back to the man and awaited his answer.

"Nate, my good knight, do you not think I notice this? Nearly every man in Tarlachia pines for her. She is the most beautiful and talented of the concubines. Do not worry, it will pass harmlessly like all the others before it."

John looked down at the knight, still kneeling before him. Smiling slightly, he spoke:

"Stand Nate...I hope it doesn't offend you to call you Nate?...you have proven your loyalty to me many times over. You need only to bow to me in the presence of others, otherwise, you are free to approach me as you would a friend. Your words are valued, and are given consideration. Is that all?"

Clapping his hands loudly, the king stood up, dressed into a robe, and faced Nathaniel.

A female servant came running, and was soon sent to retrieve some water for the king and Nathaniel.

Merrin heard the rapid footsteps of a servant, and he turned back from his contemplation. "Hello." he stated.

There was a start, and the woman answered, "Good sir, I did not see you! I am fetching his majesty some water!"

Merrin laughed a little, his large frame shaking jovially. "Another water runner? Good luck finding it, for the last several did not." he grinned to himself and turned to follow the path the servant had come from.

Perhaps King John is ill? I should go to him. Merrin headed down the stone passage, giving greetings to those he passed.

With deeply mournful eyes, Henri glanced at Sophia.

"I have just received news about the death of my beloved wife. She was fine when I left my estate several days ago and now, I can never enjoy her presence ever again..."

Without another word, Henri returned to staring sadly into the fountain, clutching tearfully the letter...

Is that all?"

"I... yes. It is."

The servent girl returned with glasses of water. Nathan returned the glass to the woman and nodded.

"Thank you..."

He turned to the King. "And thank you, my leige. Perhaps you are right about Daker and Sophia... I will take my leave now."

He bowed, and walked out the door, nearly bumping into Merrin. He mumbled words of greeting and continued on.

The king may not think that anything was the matter, but Nathan did. As long as John was king, thus would he watch out for him and those he cares for. Sophia being one of them.

Jonathan made his way to the garden.

Sophia walked over to the man. She placed her flacid hand on his back lightly. "I am sorry, sir. I do not know what else to say. I do not know what you feel, but I can understand your sadness. Is there anything that I can do for you?"

Tired, King John yawned greatly, and went back to his bed, where he promptly fell upon it, not bothering to get under the covers. The robe lay about him, covering him as a blanket would.

Ahh...peace and quiet...

He slowly began to drift into sleep, as his mind went back over the day's issues and events that had occurred.

OOC: Merrin, you can still talk to the King...he just might not be too happy that his sleep is disturbed hehe :lol: :wink:

He exchanged greeting with Nathaniel, and then stepped to the door. He pushed it open, and saw the King lying there, asleep. Well, bother. He stepped back from the door, pulled it gently closed. Shrugging, he turned to the corridor.

Perhaps I shall wander.

The night air was cool, and Merrin stepped to a balcony, glancing over the courtyards, where fires still burned, and merchants still sold wares. With a sigh, Merrin headed down, out to the small parties and markets. I cannot sleep. I shall pass my time.

Dakar finally caught up to find Sophia sitting next to a nobel man. The man seemed very sad, this struck Dakar as strange, royalty usually didn't show their emotions in public. Finally protocol took over and Dakar bowed.

"Is there anything I can do for you sir?"

Henri glanced deeply into the eyes of Sophia, his haunting eyes radiating sadness.

"I thank you for your offer of assistance. But if I cannot relieve myself of my own woes, than I am not worthy of any assistance."

Sighing once more, Henri turned and found a servant standing before him, asking if he required assistance.

With a slight wave of his hand, Henri walked slowly out of the gardens, taking slow staggering, pained steps...

OOC: Dakar is a servant, not a knight.

IC: Dakar stood mute as the man walked away, his sadness filled the garden. After several minutes of silence, he turned to Sophia.

"What happened to him?"

Attis Bray arrived at the castle near the hour of dusk, dismounting to lead his steed by hand to the castle. He was a heavy fellow without the armor, and it was hard on his old warhorse to carry him everywhere. With a loud voice, he shouts at the castle's gates...

"Open up boyo... I'm here ta see your king!"

Nathan was on his way out when he heard a bellow at the gates.

"Open up boyo... I'm here ta see your king!"

He sighed. The gate-guard had taken ill of late, and there would be noone there to let the man in.

He walked down to the gate and slid open the eye-slit. In front of him stood a large, grandoise man with a delipidated horse.

The man waved at him.

he sighed again, and opened the gates.

"What do you seek with the King..."

OOC: Grandiose... spiffy word... :o

IC:

Attis angled his shaggy red-haired head in the man's direction...

"Me name's Attis Bray, I've been a-wanderin' this land, but have run outta drinkin' money... I was wonderin' if yer king had any open slots in his ranks."

Attis was a large fellow, around 6'5" with a muscular 290 lbs build. Silvery mithrill armor covers most of his immense body, save his head, which sports shaggy, shoulder length red hair and a shaggy red beard. Green eyes keenly survey the area from above his nose, which sports a rather ugly scar. A similar one crosses his forehead, running down across his left eye. Clearly, he couldn't afford a helmet to go with his armor... if he indeed bought it himself...

Henri Lafayette was nearing the castle gate, when he heard someone shout out, "Open up boyo... I'm here ta see your king!" Recognizing the accent as that of an Irishmen, Henri watched as a servant (is he or is he something else?) named Nathan open the door, revealing a massive red-haired man.

Walking slowly towards the gate, Henri hailed the Irishman.

"What in bloody blazes is a god darned Irishman doing here?"

Attis faces the man...

"He's dyin' a thirst an' 'is pockets are empty..."

"Good..."

Signalling with his hand for Nathan to return to his duties, Henri gestured for the Irishman to follow him.

"Tis not frequent, that we have Irishman like you around..."

((Hmmm, this thread needs some violence. :roll: Seriously, though, does anyone mind if I play a plotting noble, maybe the next one in line to the throne? At least then he'd have a reason to be after the king.))

((Hmmm, this thread needs some violence. :roll: Seriously, though, does anyone mind if I play a plotting noble, maybe the next one in line to the throne? At least then he'd have a reason to be after the king.))

((Hmmm, this thread needs some violence. :roll: Seriously, though, does anyone mind if I play a plotting noble, maybe the next one in line to the throne? At least then he'd have a reason to be after the king.))
(OOC: Tarlachia is out to dinner now, but ask him when he comes back...)

((He wil see this when he returns, I suppose. Waiting, waiting...))

OOC: I'm sure he'll be fine with it. Sides, Nathan needs to hurt something RIGHT now.

OOC: Cyberutopia, don't do that, we have a set plot with this thread... it could very well include some violence, but just bear with us...we're still setting the stage, so-to-speak.

EDIT: Go ahead and do a little violence but nothing ground-shaking. :D

((Oh, I wasn't going to burst into the King's room and put a broadsword through his chest or anything. Nothing violent ever needs to happen at all. Just a treacherous noble trying to subvert his competitors is all. Whatever you have in mind, I'll go along with it. I'll post once I get an idea for my character.))

Sophia looked over at Dakar. She shrugged her shoulders. "Well, his wife died." She bent over and picked up a red rose that had wilted. She brought it to her lips and kissed it. She mouthed words, but no sound came out. She let the rose slip out of her hand. One of the thorns on the stem sliced her palm on its descent. She embraced her hand and a few drops of bright red blood dropped to the ground. Some drops saturated the rose and softened the petals. She looked up at Dakar and smiled. "I suppose I better clean this up." She walked back to the castle. She paid no heed to the new gentleman, with the wild accent, and made her way into the kitchen.

Nathan spied Sophia leaving the garden, and saw that Dakar still remained. He walked up behind him and grabbed his shoulder.

"Servent. Tell me what you were doing here with Sophia. Before I have you before the King."

John suddenly woke up, hearing an Irish accent yelling quite loudly through the gates.

"What in blazing hell is going on out there??!!" John yelled out as he got up and went to his window. Below he saw someone open the gate for the arrival and watched as the two conversed with one another.

"You! Why do you disturb the night?" he called out to the Irishman, a tone of authority in his voice.

Dakar nodded as Sophia began to walk off. He was about to follow her when a noble disturbed him. Slightly embarassed, he began to speak.

"I was merely conversing with the young lady sir. Is that not allowed?"

Henri turned when he heard the King cry out. Bowing, Henri paid homage to his king.

"My liege, this Irishman is seeking a position within your guardsmen..."

OOC: Nathan is a night, Assington. :D

IC:

"It isn't when your intentions are not well-meaning."

Nathan leaned closer, never letting go of the servents shirt.

"Yes... I can see it. You do hold feelings for the dancer! Come. We go to see the king!"

Nathan picked up the servent with ease and hefted him off to see the king.

King John looked down as Henri told him of the situation.

"Very well then, bring him in, relieve him of his weapons, then bring him to me. I will be in the common room"

He turned and reentered the room, and got himself dressed, and threw on a crimson cape around his shoulders, bearing the black insignia of Tarlachia.

http://groups.msn.com/_Secure/0VgAZAxEc2f37Qk1AFy3***0vT7GbBUgWUmI6*9dfQeIrviR7Llb72LdOf8IzSy3LrCmTZ72SmvruzCbXaSMC1apjqRAMgLfJUMt WWA8kgBViUbGZ!TFuDW!Hs25KElYF/mysymbolonredbg.PNG?dc=4675458799459137857

He strode out of the room, and headed to the common room, where he patiently waited for the arrival of the Irishman and Henri.

Just as the King had sat down, Nathan, still dragging along Dakar. He threw the servent down onto the floor in front of John.

"Here you are, highness. Dakar, in all his treacherous glory."

Dakar lay, humbled before his king.

"There is no treachery my liege. My loyalty has and always will remain with you. I have committed no foul acts and am wrongly accused."

He continued to stay down, awaiting his lord's reply.

John curiously eyed Dakar, before turning his gaze upon the knight, Nathan.

"What is the meaning of this, Sir Nathan? And you have better provide a damn good reason for taking up my time."

He paid no attention to the servnt still bowing in submission before him as he waited for the knight to explain himself.

"I caught Dakar and Sophia alone in the garden. When I arrived, she left in a hurry.

"Perhaps it was because I caught them in an untowards position. I am sure that he harbours ill will towards you sire, as he has feelings for the dancer as well."

Dakar shook his head.

"That is not true sire. Lady Sophia merely cut her hand upon a rose and rushed off to bind the wound. Nothing more."

The king began to wonder...two times that night he had gotten complaints about the servant...

Looking down at Dakar, he replied slowly, deliberately drawing his words out:

"Answer me truthfully servant this. Do you hold a grudge against me? Also, what are you true thoughts on Sophia?"

Beckoning toward Nathan, John signalled for his silence while the servant spoke.

Looking up into his master's eyes, Dakar spoke.

"My liege, in all honesty I have never held a grudge against you. You have always treated me fairly and it is an honour to serve you. I think Sophia to be a very nice lady, one I would be honoured to know. As she is reserved for your pleasures, I dare not intervene."

OOC: where is everyone else?

IC:

Nathan swung the flat of his sword and knocked down Dakar.

"LIAR!!!"

Henri appeared in the doorway of the hall followed closely by the unarmed Irishman. Glancing at Sir Nathan abusing the servant, Dakar, Henri walked over and placed a restraining on Sir Nathan's shoulder.

"Stop, now..."

Letting go of Nathan, Henri stooped down and pulled Dakar to his feet.

"Now there, what seems to be the problem?"

The king saw the sword blunted into the servant. He immediately stood and glared at Sir Nathan speaking icilly,

"Sir Nathan, curb your anger. I treat my servants well, I am no fool of the strength of the masses. You are a knight, must I need to remind you of your code of honor?! If I see fit, I will remove you of the title... Now silence!"

Addressing the newcomers, King John spoke,

"Henri, what you ask of Dakar is not of your business, but what you hear now will not be spoken outside of my presence. The same goes for all of you. God help you if I find out otherwise..."

Turning back toward the servant, he spoke in a calmer tone,

"You have affections for Sophia, there is no need to try to cover for them. I can see through your fascade, however I'm placing my trust in your words, I hope you have spoken the truth, or grave circumstances shall befall you..."

The king let the words sink in for desirable effect before continuing,

"Now leave, finish your duties and return to your quarters."

He was king for a reason, well, for several reasons. One, he was a fair and just king, one that the people favored; two, it was his birthright to rule. He would not back down nor cower before arrogant or aggressive individuals.

The king noted the arrival of Henri and the Irishman. He sat back down, and raised his chin slightly.

"Speak your business Irishman, I am listening." he commanded, giving a side glance to Sir Nathan.

Dakar bowed again to his master after recovering from the sword blow.

"Yes master. Thankyou."

Without another word, he raved off, cradling the arm that had taken the sword blow. It would definately bruise, but hopefully nothing more. He moved quickly down the hall, heading toward his quarters.

Sophia had went into the kitchen and washed off her hand with cold water. After all the blood was clear of her hand, she turned on the hot water and rinsed her hand under it. She added some soap and her hand became red from the heat. After she had cleansed her hand she dried it and wrapped a clean white cloth around her hand. She grabbed an apple and bit into it. The juice ran down her chin and she laughed. She wiped it clean and made her way back up to the King's room. She paused right before it. She had heard talking.

"Yes master thank you." Hey that was Dakar. I wonder why he was in there. She backed into the shadow and waited for Dakar to pass. She didn't want to stop him. She was afraid he was in trouble. She stepped back into the light and entered the room. My my a party. Great. She stayed in the back, hoping no one had noticed her.

"Sir Nathan, curb your anger. I treat my servants well, I am no fool of the strength of the masses. You are a knight, must I need to remind you of your code of honor?! If I see fit, I will remove you of the title... Now silence!"

Nathan lowered his gaze, and glowered at nothing. He was just trying to do his duty, and now he was the one in the king's bad books.

He looked up for an instant at the irishman. He seemed to be a jovial man.

This man Nathan smile, at least momentarily. It stopped when he saw Sonja step into the room. She stayed in the back, trying to remain inconspicous.

Nathan remained silent, at least for the moment.

OOC: Amanda, we're not in the bedroom...we're in the common room, aka, the throne room... Also...keep in mind that this is medieval Tarlachia...there isn't hot and cold water faucets created yet lol.

Attis narrowed his eyes...

'An arrogant bastard are we?'



"I'm in need of a new horse and a pint or four, but those things cost money, and I ain't got any. I can handle a sword better than most, and'll use it on other things than servants..."

He turns to Henri...

"Aye boyo, bring me ole' Painless. Let 'is kingship try 'er out."

Henri's eyebrow raised and twitched.

"Excuse me? It seems that you are unfamiliar of these lands. I am the Duke of Cala and since you're not but a common knight, you have no right to command me..."

OOC: Oopsies, my bad. Well, just pretend I boiled the water than and let it cool abit. Sorry about thinking we were still in the bedroom. Just ignore that part. Thanks.

"Can we please move this faster gentlemen?" the king asked impatiently. He wanted to get back to sleep, for he was tired. It had been a long day for him.

The king adjusted his seating upon the throne, as he looked down upon the men before him. He sighed. His eyes caught slight movement in his perphrial (sp) vision. He turned his head and saw Sophia standing there. He nodded slightly to her when she looked at him, and beckoned with a hand symbol for a drink. He was thirsty.

I will have to reward her for her patience and service. She has been good to me... the king thought to himself as he turned his attention back to the men.

"Gentlemen, I will not ask you again..." he warned to them.

Dakar sat in the kitchen, a large slab of beef over the arm that had taken the sword blow. It was numb at the moment, but he knew pain would return.

Thankful the king was not swayed by such arrogance, Dakar rested against the wall, content to let the meat do some good to his battered limb.

Sophia nodded. She ran to the kitchen and saw Dakar in the room with a slap of meat on his injuried arm. She bowed her head. Her voice just above that of a mouse's squeek. "I am so sorry. I do not want to get you into trouble. I am here for water for the king and I will be on my way." She hurried about the kitchen and grabbed the water. She ran back so fast that about 1/3 of the glasses was empty of her splashing the contents out. She placed it infront of the king and bowed. She backed away, back into her spot. She did not say one word.

King John drank the water thoughtfully as he began to grow quite impatient with the two men bickering amongst themselves. However his mind wasn't on them, but rather Sophia.

How should I reward her? Vacation? Payment? She deserves to be rewarded for her years of service. Perhaps a trip to the royal tailor for new clothing?

He came back from his thoughts as he glanced over to Sophia and nodded slightly with a smile upon his face. He could see her tension relax in her face as a wave of relief showed. Her hands stopped clenching themselves in worry as she stood there, waiting patiently.

(OOC: Let's pretend everything with the Irish knight is settled... And the King should deny permission, since he needs Henri here...)

The Duke of Cala, Henri Lafayette kneeled before the King and with reverence.

"My liege, I received a letter from my steward that my wife has just died. I request permission to return to my fief and organize it. I request leave to bury my wife..."

Henri could barely finish, tears flowed down his handsome and worn face. He seemed in seconds to age twenty years...

The king looked down at the duke.

"Very well then, you have my regards. Take as long as you wish to mourn her death. Come back when you are ready."

The king turned his attention back to the Irishman.

"You may stay here and serve me. You shall be given room and board in the Knights Hall. Pay attention to the laws that exist, for you will be shown no mercy should you fail to obey them."

The king got up, ending the meeting. All before him knelt respectfully as he left the room. Sophia turned and followed him back to his room, closing the door behind her. The king turned toward her, stopping her before she knelt. Her face looked up at him, confused.

"Sophia, you have served me for how long now?"

Attis nodded in agreement, then set off to find his sword...

He'd have some gold in his pocket before long, by the look of this place...

Sophia remained silent for some time. Shortly there after she spoke up. "I have served you for all of my life. Growing up, I was trained and conditioned how to serve personally you. I became more your personal attendant at the age of ten. I thought you knew that. Why are you asking this?" Concern, clearly, evident on her face.

OOC: I finally find the thread...
This is not Whiptail, he has not been born yet. This is an assassin, but will not kill the king, although that is his mission. Corner him and offer him enough pay, or spare his life or something, and he might be persuaded to work for the king. Argonians are fiercely loyal to employers and friends. Be warned, he will be difficult to corner. Think a traditional ninja, who does his best to avoid combat, unlike the ninjas commonly seen on NS who seek out opponents & use excessively flashy moves to eliminate their foes.

IC:

Against the night, a shape crouches atop a castle tower, the outline of a katana silouetted against the moon. The head is oddly shaped, like that of a reptile. A short bow rests next to the katana, with it a quiver of arrows. Several shiruken where attatched to the calf of the dark figure, he appeared to be some sort of assassin...

The king smiled softly as he spoke:

"Is that so? My memory is failing me at times. Yes...you have been quite the loyal servant, never complaining, never asking for anything. It is time that I reward you for your services. You shall be given free reign to choose out a new wardrobe for yourself, using the money from the treasury. Also, you will be given a vacation to wherever you please, all expenses paid. Take this and enjoy your reward for your hard work. Do not worry about me. I will be fine. In your absence, I shall have another serve as a temporary servant to me."

With that, he lifted her hand, kissed it, and beamed a tired smile at her.

"But for now, I must sleep..." he whispered.

The king turned and got into his bed, swiftly falling asleep amongst the silk sheets.

Sophia watches the king as he slumbers. His chest rises and falls rythmatically. She sighs with it. A few clear tears fall off of her face and splatter on her dress. A new attire she could deal with, but a trip. She did not know if she could be alone and even where to go. She began to sob. What was she going to do?

The next morning the king woke up to the sunlight filtering warmly through the window. He got up and walked to the window, looking out upon his kingdom.

He smiled. It was a new day.

He got himself dressed and walked down the hall to the dining table where he sat down and was promptly served a hot breakfast. The others would awake soon, and join him when they were ready...

Sophia rushed in, finding the king eating his breakfast. Her dress was wrinkled and the seams were misleading her shape. Her face was flushed and under her eyes were black circles. Yet, she still drew much attention from her beuaty.
She bowed quickly, "Sire, I have no idea what to do. I cannot leave here. Please, do not make me leave." Her voice trailed and broke. Her eyes watered. She sighed deeply, trying to regain her composure. She awaited what the king had to say.

Henri Lafayette entered the room quietly, his right hand upon his sword hilt, while his left hand adjusted some collar. When he saw Sophia begging something from the King, he quietly backed out of the room and waited for their conversation to end.

His Highness King John listened to her plead.

"Then it shall be as you request. However, I want you to take the wardrobe offer. There will be no discussion about it. You deserve at least that."

Sophia simply bowed in reply. "Thank you, Sire."

A movement at the end of the hall caught his attention and he saw Henri retreating respectfully. He called out just loud enough to be heard.

"You may come in Henri, and eat with me."

The king lifted his fork once again, and scooped some of the fried eggs with sprinkled black pepper into his mouth. He drained his glass of the orange juice, to which Sophia took the quart sized server glass and filled it back up for him. John nodded his thanks and continued eating.

The figure moved with the shadows, shifting as the sun shifted. At present, he was above what he guessed to be some sort of bedroom, and an occupied one at that. A pair of voices drifted up to him from the roof shingles... a male voice with authority, another male with conviction, and a female's voice with the sweet undertone of trained servitude. There where fifteen arrows in his quiver, five shiruken on his leg, and his ninjas' blade across his back. Soon, he would strike...

Henri Lafayette swiftly entered the room and bowed before the King.

"As you wish, my liege."

Swiftly unbuckling his sheathed sword, Henri hung it over the back of a chair. Sitting down smoothly, Henri waited while a servant placed a serving of food and drink on the table in front.

Calmly and slowly, with great care, Henri began to eat with his right hand. Meanwhile, he began to slowly finger the knife at his belt...

The king watch Henri eat, noting his behavior. Although it seemed calm and peaceful, Henri's eyes were carefully looking about. If there was one thing John knew, it was the look of one expecting something endangering.

He's noticed something out of place...I better give the word...

Without looking as if he had noticed anything, the King continued to eat his meal, taking hearty bites and enjoying the meal. He drained his cup again. Once he completed he called out to one of the servants:

"Fill my glass and bring the beef I smell stewing from the kitchen."

The servant immediately did so quickly, and went to the kitchen. Once in there; safely out of view and hearing; he signaled another servant with his hand.

That servant immediately bolted from the kitchen, disappearing through a hidden portal, heading to his destination as quickly as possible within the walls of the castle.

The first servant brought out the stew that was normally eaten by servants, but fit for a king, and placed it in front of the king.

"Thank you Thomas."

The servant nodded and returned to the shadows.
________________________________

The servant pushed open another hidden doorway, finding himself in the Knights Hall. Making his way to the commander's desk, he stood and spoke,

"Sir William, the king has issued an alarm."

"Which one?" the commander asked with immediate attention.

"The beef stew."

The commander stood suddenly with a look of duty upon his face.

"Thank you, return to your duties, you know what to do."

"Yes sir."

The servant left through the doorway again. Sir William immediately called out to the knights still asleep within the Hall.

"Wake up boys! We've got a matter of national security! Get your asses armed and to your stations in sector three of the castle. NOW!"

The knights scrambled quickly, gathering their weapons and dashing out of the room silently. Within minutes they were all arriving in their hidden positions, armed with their weapons. Not a single one made any noise, nor gave any indication of their presence.

Back in the Hall, the Commander addressed the Irishman, "Get your gear and follow me if you want to prove your worth to the King!"

He ran out of the room, sword in hand. A dozen of the knights followed behind, including the Irishman. Silently all spread out around the castle, scaling the walls and peering carefully over the edges of the rooftops. The Irishman kept with the Commander. The Commander scaled the the walls of the castle, using his fingers and feet to grip the crevices offered by the stone walls. Then he saw the figure. Hoisting himself silently over the edge of the roof, he stealthily moved up behind the lizard-like creature.

He coughed loudly to attract the attention of the intruder. The lizard creature spun, drawing two shiruken as he did so.

The blunt of the sword's hilt pounded into the creature's head, sending him through the rooftop skylight and crashing far below into the wooden table of the Dining Hall. Immediately, in response, the three dozen knights hiding in their places came rushing in, and leveled their weapons at the lizard-creature lying upon the table.

The king stood with both hands on the table. A scowl was upon his face. Rage boiled his skin, bringing crimson color to his face. Holding his hand out, one of the knights handed his sword to the King.

The king leveled the sword down upon the creature's throat, pressing heavily.

"Who are you, and why are you here?! Speak for your answer will determine your fate!"

At that moment, Attis barreled in through the door, drawing the look of those gathered as he roared & made his arrival known...

"Looks like a wee overgrown handbag 'as gotten it inta 'is thick 'ead that 'ed kill ya, yer highnessness."

Attis' blade glowed faintly, shining in the reflective surface of the mithrill he wore on his body...

Using the arrival of the bellowing Irishman as a distraction, the assassin performed a sweeping kick at knee level, knocking the king from his feet, as well as those around him. Quickly rising, he performed a back handspring that ended in a backflip, carrying him out the open window. Arrows clattered to the floor as he inverted twice. Using his claws, he quickly descended from the tower & the gathered force of knights.

Guards met him in the courtyard. A swift palm strike to the nose dealt with the first, followed with a quick knuckle strike to the throat to deal with the second. Shiruken dealt with the third, lodging in his shoulder joint, drawing blood & severing tissue...

Furious, Attis charges after the assassin, stumbling out of the window & slamming into the lower rooftops as he fell. Shaking off the pain, he rose & dove off of the roof, tackling the assassin before he could finish the three guardsmen. The assassin's blade sang as it made contact with Attis' mithrill cuirass.

Attis bodily heaved the creature to its feet, slinging it into a nearby wall. By this time, others had arrived to assist him. Crossbows where aimed & pikes readied. The assassin inverted the blade, preparing to kill himself. Attis clocked him with a thundering right hook.

Stepping back, he waved his blade at the king's room...

"Got 'im... Tricky little handbag isn't he?"

OOC: ok, I've gotta call you on that escape there WA, I had THREE DOZEN men with their weapons pressing into you...and you still got away...kicking at the kings knee....and you were on the table...knee's below the table line...and gets away scoot free for a few minutes without taking any damage.........any other time I'd say that that was godmodding, but for this time, I'll let it go, as long as you allow yourself to be taken in by Attis which is what I'm assuming you're going to do.........

IC:
King John let out a furious roar of anger that made several stand back as he rose to his feet. Never had he been so easily angered.

"BRING ME THAT ONE NOW!!!! HE WILL FACE MY WRATH!!!"

Servants flinched at every syllable that was bellowed. They suddenly had a fear of the king, and realized that anything they did against his majesty, could very well lead to this...

OOC: Shit, then I'm gonna have to call you on crashing his hidden ass through your roof without his approval. How can someone hold a three-foot sword to the throat of someone else while they're sitting down?

I think the Attis distraction thing was an inventive way out of the situation that you so graciously f**ked up by slamming WA's assassin through the roof. Turnabout is always fair play. You pulled this in the Adrenaline 2 thing, and I thought we discussed the etiquette thing there. If a 300+ pound Irishman bursts through a door hollerin' like a f**kin' banshee, people are going to look in his direction.

Keeping with my theme of extreme realisum, how could the Duke fella know there's a dude waiting on the roof above him? No mention of noise or falling shingles was made, so I'm still wondering how he managed to detect WA's assassin. Let it go, he'd had this planned in advance in the event that you pulled something like this. He mentioned before that this thing wasn't going to be easy to corner. You might wonder why I had Attis charge into the room, to serve as a legit distraction so the assassin could escape & we'd have some lengthy action in this thread.

That said, let's continue.

IC:

Attis slings the unconcious assassin over his shoulder & begins the lengthy climb back up to the king's chamber. Attis wasn't angry because he'd jumped out of a two-story window after this bastard, but because he had had to leave a half-finished pint back in his quarters...

OOC: I'm not ruining the thread over this...on with the story...(besides all this made for interesting rping at the least)

IC:
The king saw the Irishman carrying the lizard man into the hall. Immediately he commanded,

"Take his weapons away, and put him in chains. And God help any of you who lets him get away a second time!"

Nathan entered the hall and immediately went up to the king.

"Sir, we know nothing about this Irishman. Should we trust him so much?"

The king looked at Nathan. He scowled slightly. Now was not a good time to irritate the king...

"Did you not hear what I just said? Let me refresh your memory. I said, God help anyone who lets the...the...whatever the hell he is, get away a second time!

And I meant every word..."

The King turned and growled:

"Nobody trys to kill me and gets away with it..."

Attis uncerimoniously drops the assassin onto the stone floor...

"You can rant & rave all ya like, yer highness, but he ain't gonna hear ya. Only thing he hears now are tha wee birdies a chirpin' out a tune inside 'is ringin' skull..."

[/i]

OOC: Fine with me... I'm old, it's 1:30 in the morning, and I'm out of bourbon, so I'm not in the mood to argue with you.

The king looked back at the Irishman, still flustered, but slowly calming down and regaining his composure.

"Yes, I can see that. Very well then. I want you to hold onto him, and bring him back to conscious. I want to have word with him."

John accepted a glass of water offered by one of the servants. He looked about, looking for Sophia. She didn't need to see this. This was men's business. He didn't see her. All for the better.

He turned back to Attis and the other guards holding the assassin creature. The king studied the creature's features,

"Interesting little blighter...all right, bring him about now." he commanded.

The assassin awoke, groggy & bruised...

Gathered around him where several fleetingly familiar faces. He could have sworn that he had escaped from the bedroom, and yet here he was. Quickly, he reached for his blade, but found only the empty sheath. His shiruken & bow where also gone. The assassin tried to stand, but a metallic fist kept him on the floor, the same one he remebered rocketing towards his face hours ago... or was it minutes? Seconds? He wasn't sure how long he'd been out. Steel manacles bit into his scaly wrists as he hit the floor again. He thrashed once, more of a reflex against the pain in his face than a concious action.

The unsuccessful killer attempted to prop himself up against something sturdy behind him... It was Attis' foot, which violently shoved him across the floor, hand & leg irons clanking as he skidded & rolled. He came to rest as he hit the king's breakfast table, flatware & orange juice crashing & splashing over him as he hit. The acidic juice stang as it contacted his face, which he realized was bleeding slightly. Weakly he flailed, baring his teeth behind his cloth half-mask. Unconciously, he spat, sending a hooked tooth onto the floor, clattering as it dropped from behind the mask.

The big one would pay for this... if he managed to free himself.
He ignored the king's rantings, slipping back into the dark sea of unconciousness...

Dakar moved into the room to find several Knights crowded around a strange looking creature. Slightly stunned, the servant slowly regained his wits and began cleaning away the table and the spilt breakfast upon the floor.

(OOC: okay...)

Henri continued sitting quietly at his seat, quietly eating the breakfast laid before him. He had not responded to any of the movements of the assassin, instead he had pointedly ignored the commotion, knowing that the knights would have it completely under control.

"Nobody trys to kill me and gets away with it..."

OOC: Technically he didn't try to kill you. That was his intention, but he wasn't able to commit the act.

"Nobody trys to kill me and gets away with it..."

OOC: Technically he didn't try to kill you. That was his intention, but he wasn't able to commit the act.

OOC: I understand what you mean, but the King did see the multiple weapons. Having a foreign guy sneaking around with these weapons can only be derived as one thing: hostile.

IC:

"I ask you again stranger. Tell me your name, where you hail from, and your purpose for being here."

John crossed his arms while he waited for a response. He noted the fang spit out, but ignored it.

Attis prodded the assassin with his booted foot, armor plating clinking slightly as he did so...

"I think tha wee handbag is still hearin' the birdies, yer highness. Toss 'em in a cell er somethin', an' wait for 'im to come around. No sense waitin' here where he might escape again..."

Sophia was in her small, clustered, but cozy room when another servant ran in and told her about the excitement. Sophia was nervous, her majesty being attacked, she did not know what to do. Her being of curious nature tiptoed down the stairs and returned to the kitchen to find the scene. She nearly gasped out loud when she saw the creature. She caught herself.

She snuck further into the room, she was luckily they all paid no heed to her. She noticed Dakar and smiled at him. She laughed about how he would be involved in such an ordeal. She got a closer look at the creature and was in awe of it. She had never seen anything like this in her whole life. Her gaze never left his body, green and rippled with obvious layers of muscles beneath the scales. She walked even closer and with more desire to touch him. He was not awake and she felt she could touch him. She was inches away from him and she touched his face. She could hear all the others yelling at her, but their screams were muffled and she focused on the lizard thing. His scales were surprising smooth and dry. She ran her fingers along what seemed his cheekbones and the creature opened his eyes. Her hand ceased to move.

The assassin weakly tried to push her hand away, his blood staining the tips of her fingers. His head rolled lazily, no longer under his control, yet he remained concious...

OOC: What exactly is this secret of the king? I hope I have not disturbed it with my entry.

OOC: Soon to be revealed, soon to be revealed....quite a shocker really... Have patience to find out. Your arrival only prolonged it, but it did help to spice up the thread which was kind of getting dull.

Hehehe, if you only knew...

John looked at Attis as he spoke. Just then, the Commander walked through the doorway and stood to the side silently.

"Very well then. Sir William, take this creature to the dungeons and put him under strict confinement. When he is more controlled in mind, I want to know immediately."

"Yes your highness."

Immediately the commander reached down and lifted the weak Argonian. Another knight picked up the creature's feet and soon, the two made their way down to the dungeons, accompanied by armed knights all watching the Argonian carefully and ready to use their weapons if necessary.

Back in the Dining Hall, John turned back to Attis. His eyes caught the glint of the Argonian fang that lay at his feet. He picked it up, inspecting it closely, before placing it in his pocket. He would have his historians research the tooth, and see if they could identify the race.

"Attis, your service and has been noted. Of that, I am gratified, and would like to offer you a position in my armies. A low one for now, but an officer nonetheless. You will be paid more than what you recieve now, which I think you will find to your liking. Although what you have done was commendable, I am still wary about your loyalty. You will have to prove this to me as time passes, if you wish to remain under my command."

Attis nods, sheathing his blade...

"As long as there be gold in me pocket an' ale in yer cellars, I'll be in your service, yer highness."

The king nodded in appreciation. He shook Attis's hand with a smile.

"Wonderful. Also, did I mention that as an officer, you will be given your own private quarters? You will be taking the quarters of Sir Lethan, who is being demoted for his lack of discipline. I only hope I do not have to do the same for you."

Down in the dungeons....

The commander watches as several knights lift the limp body of the Argonian and chain him to the wall, arms and legs spread out and bound in tight manacles.

"I want a round the clock post here. Call for me if he awakes."

"Yes sir."

Again, Attis nods as his hand seemingly consumes that of the king...

"As long as yer boys keep themselves in line, they'll get no problems from me, an' in turn you'll hear nothin' that requires discipline."

Attis seats himself on a nearby trunk.

Henri did not even glance up at the appointment of the boastful Irishman. Having finished his meal, Henri sat back on his chair, quietly sipping a little Tamsk Wine, a rich red wine, carted here from the Duchy of Cala. Out of the corner of his eyes, Henri watched the Irishman and the King. Slowly, his hands once again touched his sheathed knife.

Nathan stalked down to the dungeon, where he knew the Argonian was being kept. He did not like the fact that the king did not approve of his advice. He still did not trust the irishman, but apparently, the king did.

Nathan rounded the corner and saw two knights sitiing on the floor. Both quickly got up and saluted.

"Captain, what are you doing down here? Should you not be upstairs tending to the king?"

"The king ordered me to interrogate the prisoner. Now open the door."

The two guards glanced at each other. "But the commander..."

"I outrank the commander. Now open the door, and then leave us."

The guards quickly opened the gate to the cell, then hurried out of sight. Nathan walked in a closed the door.

He saw the Argonian spread eagled and shackled.

"Hear, me Argonian, if you can. Tell me, why did you come here to this kingdom..."

The assassin said nothing, but simply spit in his interrogator's direction, sending a silvery thread of saliva onto his booted foot...

Nathan looked down at his boot, and smiled.

With a quick motion, Nathan rushed to the Lizard and punched him in the side of the face.

"Listen to ME! I can help you get out of here, but you have to help me..."\

"Why... should you want my help."

"Because the King has... lost his senses. He refuses to listen to truth, and prefers the irishman over ME! ME! After all I've done for him..."

The assassin adheres to his code of silence, wanting no part of whatever this new enemy had in store for him...

[i]"Because the King has... lost his senses. He refuses to listen to truth, and prefers the irishman over ME! ME! After all I've done for him..."

"An' what exactly have ya done for 'im, boyo? Don't mind me, just comin' to check on tha wee handbag, I ain't jumpin' outta no more windows to catch his scaly backside..."

Attis stepped through the doorway, his right hand resting on the pommel of his sword as he did when he was content. He moved surprisingly quiet for a large man...

Nathan turned around and cocked his head at Attis, as if sizing up the man.

"Pardon me, good sir, but I believe you misheard. I said nothing of import, leastways for you.

"Now please excuse me. I have other business to attend to."

Nathan brushed past the Irishman and exited the dungeon. He had to go see the king...

*************

Moments later....

The doors to the dining room burst open, and Nathan entered.

"What is the meaning of this intrusion, Captain?"

"My leige, if you send down some men to the dungeon, you will see that the Irishman and the assasin are in League..."

The king stood from his seat in alarm.

"Sir Nathan, do you realize the gravity of the charge you speak? I only hope you are not telling me lies. This matter shall be settled immediately."

John turned to a knight standing off to the side.

"Go to the dungeons and give word to Sir Attis that I wish to speak to him."

"Yes, my leige." the knight replied, bowing as he did so, before turning and heading to the dungeons.
________________________

The knight found the Irishman as directed. He coughed slightly, gaining the Irishman's attention.

"Sir Attis? The king would like to speak to you immediately. Please follow me."

Henri wiped his mouth as he finished his meal. Calmly standing up, Henri picked up his buckle with his sword and strapped it on. Patting his full stomach, Henri excused himself and was preparing to leave, when Nathan burst in. When he heard Nathan's spiel about the Irishman, Henri narrowed his eyes in grave suspicion. When a knight ran out to get the Irishman, Henri decided to wait and see the outcome.

Turning to the king, Henri got his attention and raised his right eyebrow, signifying his suspicions of the situation.

Attis followed quietly, keeping his hand near his sword...

King John was sitting again in his chair, his hand stroking his chin as he thought deeply. Nathan stood by his side, keeping his eyes upon the door leading eventually to the dungeons.

Finally, the door opened and the knight and Attis walked in and stood before the king.

"Sir Attis, I have had suspicions raised about your presence here. They tell me that you are in league with the assassin who now sits in the dungeons below. Speak your defense on these accusations, and either confirm or deny your role as indicated. Speak truthfully, lest you incur my wrath."

Again, the assassin spat at the knight...

"I have no agreement with such a creature, less civilized than you or I..."

King John was sitting again in his chair, his hand stroking his chin as he thought deeply. Nathan stood by his side, keeping his eyes upon the door leading eventually to the dungeons.

Finally, the door opened and the knight and Attis walked in and stood before the king.

"Sir Attis, I have had suspicions raised about your presence here. They tell me that you are in league with the assassin who now sits in the dungeons below. Speak your defense on these accusations, and either confirm or deny your role as indicated. Speak truthfully, lest you incur my wrath."

Attis' eyes narrow...

"I think yer highness has been listenin' to that 'un beside ya a wee bit too much. I came to check on me prisoner, an' I find 'im a-chattin' away with the scaly bastard like ole friends... talkin' 'bout all he's done for ya, yer highness..."

Attis turns to go, but he spins sharply, his blue eyes glaring knives at Nathan...

"An' one last thing... I don't make deals with luggage..."

With that, he returns to his spot on the trunk to await the King's judgement...

Nathan turned beat red, but did not deny any of Attis's charges. Instead, he drew his sword and challenged the knight.

"You insult my honour and my leige's good judgement. Stand up and answer your transgressions. Apologize. NOW!"

Henri's eyes narrowed at Attis's claims. Intrigued, Henri watched Nathan's sudden coloring. When Nathan drew his sword, Henri unsheathed his own sword from its scabbard. Henri took a step forward placing himself directly between Nathan and Attis.

"Stand down, Sir Nathan. Your behavior is unbecoming of a knight for the King of Tarlachia. Stand down now or face the consequences. If you do not stand down, I will personally take pleasure in skewering you."

Henri raised his sword and pointed it at Nathan.

"STAND DOWN NOW!"

King John scowled before standing and addressing the entire room.

"THAT IS ENOUGH! I WILL NOT HAVE BLOODSHED IN MY COURT!"

Then, in a calmer tone yet still authoritive he spoke:

"Sir Attis, you claim that Nathan here is untrustworthy. However, I am more inclined to trust his word than I am to trust yours. He has, after all, served me longer than you have."

The king turned to Sir Nathan, "And you, you will learn to not slash back at every insult you may recieve. Otherwise, you will find yourself, one day, outnumbered, outperformed. Have patience and turn a deaf ear when necessary!"

The king looked back and forth between the two men, a glare in his eyes.

"Sir Nathan, explain your reasoning for your charges against Sir Attis. As far as I can tell so far, it seems to me that you are seeking to cause conflict that will remove him from this kingdom. Now I ask you, why?", the king turned to Sir Attis, "And you will silence your tongue while Sir Nathan is speaking."

Nathan did not lower his sword. Perhaps he knew that he did not have any proof of any misdoings by Attis. Perhaps he knew that he had crossed the line with his plans.

Perhaps he knew that this day would always come...

"My leige, how long have I served you?"

"As long as I remember. Why?"

"... If I survive this, I have something to share with you..."

With that, Nathan charged Attis, keeping an eye out on Henri.

Sophia entered the room where all the noise was coming from. She ran her fingers nervously over her silk gown. The other maids, ones she did not know off helped her find it. It was one of the lady's gowns. The king's wife's gown. He said any dress. She breathed deeply and stepped into the room. She was meet with silence. A silence she screamed to stop. She smiled at the king and asked, "Do you like?"

The gown was a light purple and in certian light changed to a deep purple. The fabric was of finest silk and was like liquid flowing around her body. The dress clung to her skin around her bosom. It was cut in a scoop neckline and was very low. At her hips the dress puffed out and cascaded to the ground. It barely touched the floor, but her feet were still hidden.

Her smile started to falter as she saw the king's eyes widen. She heard others around her mutter and a few servents gasped. She thought she heard someone whispher the king's wife's name. She stood still. She had no idea what to do.

(OOC: Valient, Henri is standing in between you and Attis, so if you want to attack Attis, you'll have to go through him...)

Henri narrowed his eyes as his sword twirled in the air in front of Sir Nathan, stopping Nathan's rush cold.

"If you insist Sir Nathan, you will find yourself dead upon the floor... Reconsider and I'll let you live... Do not push me too far or you'll find yourself lying the floor, wishing you hadn't dared challenge me..."

OOC: Hey, Swordmasters of Ginaz, did you not read the last post, which was mine. No one did was making threats at the time. All of the attention was placed on Sophia. Please, make note of that.

John turned about, looking at the knights who were beginning to scuffle, then wheeled right back around staring at Sophia.

God...she looks so much like her...

The king simply had forgotten about the scuffle behind him as he stood transfixed upon the woman standing before him, wearing his wife's dress. Her hair had been done up as well. She didn't even look like a servant anymore, but appeared as if she belonged in that dress.

Well, I did say for her to pick anything she wanted...

"I...you look gorgeous..." he managed the say, still very much at a loss of words. His hand found his chair behind him and sat heavily into it, as he suddenly felt the pain well up again. He covered his face as he wept silently.

"Catherine..." came the shallow and almost mute whisper from his mouth.

OOC: Hey guys, let's put the little knight scuffle aside a moment and all stare in wonder at Sophia in that dress. Think of it like a temporary tension relief. Afterwards, we can get back to the scuffle. Thanks.

(OOC: Considering my character is currently technically in “mourning,” he’ll ignore it…)

Henri took one look at all-dressed up Sophia and quietly under his breath, muttered, “Slut…” But, Henri then stopped, thinking back to the beauty and grace of his now dead wife. His face was a mask of grief and intense emotional pain, Henri twirled his blade and sheathed it back into its scabbard. Turning to the King, Henri bowed and said, “Pardon my rudeness, your majesty. Please excuse me for a moment…”

The assassin tugged on his chains, testing his bonds for an escape attempt, assuming he could get to the small lockpick he had stashed in the lower hem of his pants...

It was going to be difficult to do so with his arms high above him & legs out of reach... Then it came to him, he swung his legs up to his hands, inverting to allow access. With deft scratches from his claws, he freed the lockpick. As the assassin moved to make use of his item, his arm was held fast by the chains on the wall...

'Dammit...'

Attis simply sidestepped Nathan as he barreled past, drawing his own sword as he did so...

"Reign yer horses, boyo... You're gettin' in over yer head..."

Attis' glare is like a dead man's grip: Cold, hard & relentless...

Nathan stopped, turned around and charged again.

"In over my head? Sir, I have but barely begun..."

OOC: Lets finish this thread before Tarl leaves.

Attis stepped back slightly, then swiftly drove his right hand forward, driving his blade through Nathan's armor & out the unfortunate man's back. With a shove, Attis floored the mortally wounded man with a glare of contempt, his blade still lodged in Nathan's chest...

OOC: He ain't dead this time, so pull a Mercutio all you want...

Nathan fell... cursing himself more than the irishman for his state of being...

Was it all for naught? Was his life so meaningless that he was to die without a passionate last eulogy?

"Sire... I am... I must... request that... damn... everyone leave. NOW!"

The King whirlled about, only to open his eyes in surprise as he saw Sir Nathan lying on the ground, bleeding profusely. With a hand waving them out, he watched as everyone left the dining hall.

Finally, the hall lay completely empty, and the King knelt down to Sir Nathan, lifting his head and holding onto it.

"Hold on, we'll get you help...Now, tell me, why did you want everyone gone?"

Nathan coughed, and put his hand on the cold steel that protruded from his chest.

He laughed.

"What is so funny, dear knight?"

"My leige... there is no help for me. I... have done this to myself, and rightfully so... there is... no time."

"Is there anything that I can do for you?"

"Yes... lean closer."

The king leaned his ear towards Nathans laboured breathing mouth.

"Sophia... the girl... she is your daughter..."

"WHAT? WHAT D..."

But Nathan could no longer hear his king. He no longer could hear anything at all...

The King laid down Sir Nathan's head as he sat back in shock.

Sophia?? My daughter??!! Is this a joke of his?...No...Sir Nathan would not do this, unless he knew it to be true...

I've got to send her away, before others find out!

"Guards! Come in here now!" he called out loudly and watched as the doors opened and in walked a number of guards.

"Some of you are to pick up Sir Nathan. The rest, I want you to go find me Michael Vincitio."

The guards obeyed and picked up Nathan. their faces were just a mask for their true emotions.
"one more thing...get Sophia in here immediately...

Henri gazed down briefly upon the dead body of who was once Sir Nathan, nothing more than a foolhardy, yet honorable knight. Sighing to himself at the bloodshed, Henri wheeled on the heels of his feet and moved to exit the room. But suddenly, a sharp pain in Henri's chest occurred and Henri toppled to the ground, gasping in pain, as he attempted to breath...

Sophia was rushed into where the king was at. She looked at the ground and saw a dark puddle. Tears welled up in her eyes and she looked at the King.

Her words were fumbled, but they could be made out. "Sire, what is it you want?" Her eyes liquified and wide. Her face shown no bright smile.

The king turned and looked over at Sophia with a slightly shocked and worried face.

"I'm sorry, but you will need to sit down. I have something to tell you..."

He said the last words with a great mystique in his voice, his voice slightly trembling.

I guess I was right when she reminded me of Catherine...and how I have failed to note the resemblence earlier! he thought darkly to himself, somewhat sorrowful for what had happened all these years, treating his own daughter like a slave...

He watched Sophia sit down in one of the chairs, and look at him expectantly, her eyes still misty from her sorrow over Sir Nathan's death.

"You...you...This is difficult for me, but you must know... You Sophia, are the Princess of the Kingdom of Tarlachia...my daughter...I'm sorry, I never knew...I thought you had died at birth..."

The king fell to his knees, hanging his head in shame for his ignorance...
_________________________________________--

A guard walked down the corridor, back toward the dining room, when suddenly he noticed Henri collapsed onto the ground.

"Sir? Are you all right?" he asked as he immediately knelt down to pick up the man.

(OOC: Henri's right outside the dining room and he's a face dancer...)

Moaning in pain, Henri pushed aside the guard, motioning for him to move away. Crawling painfully back towards his room, Henri's breathing soon became ragged and painful.

I am finished... The deception that has been my life will end... The reality about my life will be revealed... The horror of my existence will be known... Alas, my lord Duke of Cala... I have failed thee...

With a final sigh, Henri dropped to the floor, dead... The guard in shock moved forward and nudged Henri. Alarmed at the pale nature of Henri, the guard quickly moved to check Henri's vital signs. But before he could, Henri began to transform. From his light, handsome, dashing features, a dark transformation occurred, as his face became nothing more than that of a bland man, easily recognized as anyone, the fingerprints at the end of his fingers disappeared, and he struck in stature. The guard gasped in shock and dropped to the floor.

Sophia looked confused and knowing all at the same time. "How is that even possible." Her eyes began to cloud with tears and her voice croaked out, "Explain to me how that is even possible. Make me understand. Make me know." Her voice had a wanting in it. She wanted to belong to someone in a way of a daughter, not of a servant. She wanted a father figure and she prayed that this was true and not some cruel joke.

The king turned his sorrowful eyes upwards to Sophia, perhaps the first time he had ever looked up at anyone, not even his own father...

"Sophia, I do not know how it is possible. I was only told by the midwives that you had died as well. Maybe they are to blame, maybe not. Either way...you are my daughter."

The king stood once again, reaching his hand out to hers.

"Come...let me show you how I know now..." he said gently.

Sophia stood, and took his hand as he led her into another room, a room that was normally restricted for all others, except the king and whomever he chose to accompany him. Just before entering, he called out to the guards a command:

"Clean this place up. I don't want to see any of this carnage when I return..."

The guards bowed respectfully, and immediately went about their orders. The King closed the door to the room, leaving just the two of them in there. He lit a torch, then carried it about the room as he lit the remaining torches mounted against the wall, before replacing the one he carried.

"Come in, come closer, look at these here. They are the many belongings of my wife, your mother." he beckoned as he held his hand out to the room.

Sophia's eyes turned to a large painting on the wall, immediately widening her eyes. The painting was expertly done, and remarkably accurate in its depiction of the portrait of Catherine, standing still, dressed in the same dress that Sophia wore now.

"See how you look so much like her?" the king asked quietly, while picking up a folded letter from his wife that sat upon the table. His eyes read slowly over the words. His hand trembled as he closed his eyes and silently cried, cried for his wife, cried for Sophia.

"I'm sorry Catherine..." he whispered in a cracked voice, "I'm so sorry..."

:tag"

OOC: Because I'm leaving for the summer for several months, I'm gonna close this thread out right now. Thanks for being faithful rper's. You guys have been great.

IC: The king looked up to Sapphire with a mournful look. She moved closer to him and hugged him, surprising him.

"Hello father..."

The king smiled slightly as he realized that Sophia had accepted his truth, and simultaneously forgiven him for his ignorance.