NationStates Jolt Archive

A piece of parchment arrives at various embassies around the world, written in a flowing hand and sealed in burgundy wax with the shadowcat crest of the Lord Reaver.

Honored friends,

It will a glorious day for two mighty nations, a day that men will sing of for generations. Such a day should be shared and celebrated by one and all, so we do invite you to Pantera, and the Seastone Palace to witness the joyous celebration of marriage.

Gaise Starshone is the half-brother of the Lord Reaver, Lord of the Southern Seas and shining example of Reaver strength and courage.

Kiyane Traiden is the niece of Emporer Icarus Traiden of the Eastern Bloc, and her own strength and beauty the stuff of myth and legend.

The union of Gaise Starshone and Kiyane Traiden will forever cement the alliance and good faith between the Eurydian Republic and Pantera. The Blood of Emporer Traiden and that of the Lord Reaver will join together and flower through eternity as a shining symbol of our unity. Light and Life shall reign between our nations, and woe be to those who would challenge us.

The fabled beauty of the Lady Kiyane is legend across the globe, and the fury of Gaise Starshone strikes fear into the heart of all enemies. Together, they and thier line will bring much glory and honor to both mighty nations, now and forever.

So come. Drink of the spirits and feast of the fruits we offer. Cavort and cajole through the night, and help us honor the joining of our royal Houses.

Bastien the Bronze
Lord Reaver of Pantera
Drag the Waters of War

Firearms will only be allowed with permission, though ceremonial blades and armor will be allowed and encouraged. Aggression will be met with savage force, as this is to be a day of love, not of death. Come with joy in your hearts.

{{OOC: As always, if you can't RP maturely, please stay the fuck out of my thread. Otherwise come and play with us.}}

May the Almighty bless the newly weds.

We wish to heartily congratulate the two families. We will send 100,000 tons of red roses to express our friendship and love.

Holy Druzian Emperor

Icarus Traiden stood in a small room located in the royal palace Rigard. The castle had been there for generations, and was carved into the mountainside itself, huge towers and ominous spires jutted out of the scenery like serene spears. On the outside it looked like nothing more than a decrepit old monument of a time long forgotten; on the inside the story was completly different. It was lavishly furnished and decorated with the finest Eurydian artwork. From bronze statues dating over 300 years old to oil paintings of today's leading artists... it was truly the epitome of Eurydian culture.

the Emperor was looking at his fare niece, about to be wed to the most elegible bachelor in all of Pantera. Kiyane was a beautiful maiden, envied by all other women in the Republic. She had long flowing hair that was as red as the sun that graced her presence every morning and longingly departed every night. Her eyes were a shimmering blue, a rarity in Eurydian culture. Her lips were fine and her breasts volouptous. A beautiful woman indeed.

Right now though Kiyane's mood was less than beautiful. She was having serious doubts about this marriage. "Uncle... I cant do this. I dont even know the man."

Traiden nodded in agreement, "I understand your concern, but you needn't have any. Bastien tells me there is not a man more chivalrous in Pantera, or more handsome. Besides, you are helping to gain a strong ally in the end... you are doing it for you people." This seemed to put Kiyane at ease... for the moment.


(OOC: I'll probably be arriving at Pantera next... so there wont be much waiting around.)

Gaise Starshone sat quietly, listening to the Lord Reaver speak. He was not happy about this marriage, but he was determined to grit his teeth and do what he was called to with honor and dignity. Oh, he had hear tales of this womans beauty, but having never met her, he feared she would turn out to be a horrid wench.

Shaking his head, he raises a hand to scratch at his clean shaven cheek. A handsome man, he is of average height but powerfully muscled. Long, black haid had been tied back with a strip of crimson silk, giving him a severe, stern look.

Similar in facial features to the his brother, Gaise was dark wehre Bastien fair. Most startling about the mans appearance, was his eyes. Not the purple eyes of House Vayne, but strange, discolored eyes. One green, the other a tawny brown that glints golden in the light, his gaze is most disconcerting.

"I understand, Bastien, but I donna have to like it. I'm na ready tp settle yet. There is still gallons of brandy and thousands of wenches I have yet to taste...." Sighing, Gaise quiets and gauges his half-brother's reation to his words.

The massive Lord Reaver chuckles amiably and flicks a wrist dismissively,"This maiden should be enough for any man, Gaise. I've seen pictures and she's stunning. Wait until you see her before you pas judgement.

Grumbling, Gaise nods his head and rises, making a respectful bow to his Lord and Brother before departing to make ready for his future wife's arrival. As he approaches the doorway, however, Bastien's voice stops him,"She is a red-head as well, Gaise. A saucy red-head, and said to be fierce as a lioness."

Growling a response, Gaise steps from the chamber into the hall and continues, his mind slightly eased by his brothers words. Redhead, eh? maybe this will end well after all. Alot of lasses going to be disappointed, though...

His melancholy lifting, he makes his way to his chambers.

It has been revealed that Lady Kiyane is the local hoe in Freddy's Bar.

Kiyane and Traiden sat in the excessivly comfortable Admiral's Room of the Eurydian Dreadnought Sown Fortune. She was a mighty ship that had survived many skirmishes and battles. Now her mission was that of peace, and she carried the most valuable cargo Eurydice had to offer.

Also aboard were Traidens ambassador, Samson, and his royal advisor, Albaan. While the two men informed the Emperor of Panteran custom, Kiyane sat off in a corner, starin idly out of a small window.

"What am I here for? How is that my entire life has been leading up to this? I have no free will... no choice in the matter. I fear that this man will be brutish and crude, and treat me like a filthy harlot when I am not. I will not accept this marriage if that is to be the case. Nay... I will leave and never marry... live out my days in solitude.

Kiyane sighed and turned her head as to face Icarus and his advisors. She wondered if the emperor knew how she felt. No... he couldnt.

~~~~~~~~~~~

"Sir... we will be arriving at earth in roughly 5 minutes." the ensign who had just spoken turned his seat around and awaited orders from Admiral Vaynard.

"Inform the Emperor we have arrived. Prepare the shuttles for departure and tell that whiny Kiyane its time to get ready. I hate weddings"

Vaynard sat back down in his chair and sighed. He reached over and took hold of his glass of wine and sipped slowly from it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

The shuttle departed without incident. The grace of Eurydian art could be seen on the ships as well as the paintings. Long and slender, the Eurydiand transport glided through space with the upmost ease. The deep purple of the transport contrasted the red of the Sown Fortune.

Within minutes they had landed. Icarus was the first out, and he eyed the Panteran surroundings. It was a beautiful country, he admited, and the bright blue sky rivaled the deep crimson of Eurydice. Traiden nodded in satisfaction and motioned for the rest of the passengers to exit, Kiyane was to be last.

Elizabeth rolled over to face the rather scruffy looking man next to her. Sex had become one of life's little things that she, as President, could still participate in. Forget the fact that in a very Catholic nation, it was premarital. She sighed happily, and put an arm over him.

"You sure you dont mind goin' alone hun? You know I'd go to, but I just cant, not with everythign going on right now. Even if I could, the ISS just wont hear i..."

He gentlly pushed a finger aginst her lips to hush her. "Quiet, il mio piccolo fiore, I dont mind, its all good. It'll be good to get me outa here, see the world beyond Scically and Imitora. I'll go get a gift tomorrow, and then I'll catch a comuter. It'll be fine, although I dont know if I'll be able to last without you," he added grinning. He moved his head closer, and kissed her gentlly.
_____

The next day, John went into Verteal city, which was a pleasurable three hour drive. Of course, any drive, no matter how long, is pleasurable in a Ferrari. Being the number one dual side personel litagent had it's perks. When he looked back on it, he was almost amazed by the numbers. Over 215 prosecution cases, 90 someodd defese casses, and zero losses. Being able to work several casses at once also had its perks.

The red Ferrari zipped into the city and it didnt take long for Giovanni to find a nice gift for both the bride and groom, as well as one they could share. He was on his way back, in the process of securing a ticket on a SkyCar Air flight into Pantera, when the call waiting alert beeped. "Hello?"

The voice chatted to him from the other end of the line, and he hung up. He called back the airline agency, and told them not to worry, he had found himself a good flight.
_____

Elizabeth looked over the official comunique to Pantera, and smiled before sending it.

Lord Reaver Bastien the Bronze,

It is with regret that I must I anounce I myself will not be able to attend this joyous occasion. However, a close personal friend of mine, Giovanni (John) Forio shall attend in my absence. He will represent Imitora with pride, and I trust he will not embaress any nations involved in this happy occasion. Please, pass my words of congratulations and best wishes to the newly wed couple. I hope to soon meet you in person, and hope for the best between our nations. With best wishes for you and your people,

President Elizabeth Waitkus
The Republic of Imitora
Chomh sean leis an cheo agus níos sine faoi dhó

She attached a picture of John so that they would know who to look for, and sent the message.

http://www.actustar.com/photos/pacinoal1.jpg

OOC: *growls* My ISP straightens out and people show up to celebrate my birthday, which now that it's after midnight, is today. I tried to shoo them away, but they're pretty adamant. They have a bottle of bourbon and a backpack full of narcotics, so I'll have to bow out for awhile, probably the night. I should have a chance to log on for an hour or so tomorrow, but I can't promise anything. ;) My apologies to everyone.

My friends all say hello, while eyeing me strangely as I try to explain NS.
Happy birthday to me.

Bastien, I have heard the great news! This is a momentous occasion for Pantera and The Eastern Bloc. EB has long been a close friend and ally of AMF, so how about we make this official?

What do you say Bastien, shall we (AMF) commence in Blood Pact with The Eastern Bloc? It is your decision, Lord Reaver.

http://invisionfree.com/forums/WMNK_Coalition/index.php?act=Attach&type=post&id=3418
---Damien Dreadfire---
-Supreme Warlord of AMF-

OOC *eyes Druze* No wonder you got scorched back to bedrock.

OOC: *growls* My ISP straightens out and people show up to celebrate my birthday, which now that it's after midnight, is today. I tried to shoo them away, but they're pretty adamant. They have a bottle of bourbon and a backpack full of narcotics, so I'll have to bow out for awhile, probably the night. I should have a chance to log on for an hour or so tomorrow, but I can't promise anything. ;) My apologies to everyone.

My friends all say hello, while eyeing me strangely as I try to explain NS.
Happy birthday to me.

(OOC: haha... sounds fun. I could use me a little... bourbon myself. Eh... have fun my man. haha... explaining nationstates.... ive had to do that many times.)

We wish our good freind Eastern Bloc many happy returns. One of our embassidors will attend with gifts for the happy couple.

PIO 12 - 10/24/2003 (Parliamentry International Order 12)

WHEREAS the marriage between Gaise Sharstone of Pantera and Kiyane Traiden of the Eastern Bloc is a wonderful event.

WHEREAS this union will improve relations between the two nations, and will bring about an era of peace between these two great nation.

MAY IT BE RESOLVED THAT Foxweather's National Government wish the new couple the best of days, and send a representative to the wedding to honor them, and to represent the nations within the LICN.

We congratuate the couple on their union of hearts and nations. We are unable to send delegates as all are occupied in allied nations at the moment.

As the transport settles to the earth and figures begin to emerge, a man in soot colored platemail emerges from the crowd of onlookers and awaited the Emporer, Kiyane, and thier retinue. The man is massive, his armor well oiled and firm fitting. Beneath his arm is the fabled dogshead helm of Caval the Warhound, sworn sword and shield of House Vayne, the Panteran royal family.

Sidling forward with the well balanced gait of a man bred for war and violence, Caval bends himself into a deep bow and sweeps his flowing burgundy cloak about his shoulders,"Your Grace, Emporer Traiden, I bid you welcome from the Lord Reaver, and give the thanks of all of the Free Lands. You truly honor us with your presence, and our smallfolk will sing evermore of this shining day."

"Pardons that it is myself that meets you. The Lord Reaver would have come himself but there is much to be done in honor of this joyous day. I am Caval the Warhound, and all you see before you is yours to enjoy." Gesturing behind him, the Hound's sweeping arm encompasses the mighty cliffs of Toke and the Seastone Palace perched atop the highest, some three thousand feet above the crashing waves of the Blood Bay and its crimson waters. An ancient, lichen covered fortress is the Seastone Palace, the towering ramparts and flowing banners atop them scratch at the bellies of the cotton-like clouds rushing by overhead.

As the Hounds eyes light on Kiyane, he drops his eyes to the ground and speaks formally,"My Lady, your beauty is myth come to life before my eyes. I, and all of Pantera am honored by your presence. My only complaint is that Lord Gaise will be the one to take your hand."

As the greetings conclude, Caval motions to a nearby car which waits to take them the last miles up the face of the cliffs to the Seastone Palace, and the coming festivities.

{{OOC: Apologies for the wait. This weekend was hellacious.}}

Traiden, Kiyane, and the others walked toward the motorcade with Caval in the lead. Traiden's small stature and decorative armor looked silly compared to the giant man and his plate mail. Still, Caval made his guests feel welcome, and so Icarus was at ease.

"Nay Caval, it is we that are honored. I am not much for compliments, but Pantera is a country steeped in tradition and honor. You are a proud people, and rightfully so."

Kiyane's mood was dissimilar to the Emperor's, and as they got into the car she was still blushing from the Panteran's compliments. Her rosy cheeks could be seen by all the onlookers, and that made her even more self aware. She sat opposite Emperor Traiden and Caval.

"Well, this isn't so bad," She said under her breath. the Seastone Palace was certainly a sight to behold... and Caval wasnt all that bad looking. Both Traidens niece and Traiden himself stayed quiet during the car ride.

(OOC:I'm really freakin tired... so uh... apolagize for the bluntness and lack of depth)

(OOC:I'm really freakin tired... so uh... apolagize for the bluntness and lack of depth)

OOC: I feel you brother. Whaddya say we put it on hold one more time til tomorrow? I'm pretty tired, and all I can think about is rolling a spliff and playing Final Fantasy 9 until I pass out. It was agony to write up my last post, but it turned out much better than I'd thought. *nod self*

(OOC:I'm really freakin tired... so uh... apolagize for the bluntness and lack of depth)

OOC: I feel you brother. Whaddya say we put it on hold one more time til tomorrow? I'm pretty tired, and all I can think about is rolling a spliff and playing Final Fantasy 9 until I pass out. It was agony to write up my last post, but it turned out much better than I'd thought. *nod self*

Sounds good to me... tomorrow it is.

{{OOC: Or the day after... ;)}}

IC:

Cavals thoughts drift to Gaise and his bride, here before him. Gaise was a good man, and the Hound was sworn to protect him, but surely he did not deserve this. A more stunning woman he had not seen, though a few came close. Reavers had carried a taste for women with the flame kissed hair since they had raided and raped among the Celts, so long ago. Old habits die hard, Caval thought.

Running a hand across the dogshead helm set in his lap, he comments,"The Lord Reaver has scheduled a small tourney to celebrate the occasion, Your Grace. A minor joust and then the Melee. Should any of your bannermen like to enter the lists, I'm sure I will be able to suit and arm them. It would be pleasant to test the arms of the Eurydians.

As the car moves across a small, bridged gorge near the southern edge of the great cliffs of Toke, the view that stretches out to the south and over the edge is stunning. At the foot of the great rise of the cliffs sprawls Toke, the capitol of Pantera. Domed septs and limestone temples are set high upon the nine great hills of the city, while skyscrapers thrust into the blue beyond, but it is the water itself that catches the eye. The crashing bloody waves of the Bay glint with the sunlight as they slam into the white stones of the shoreline, a riot of gold and crimson set in the granite frame of the gorge.

The Hound raises a gauntlet clad hand to point out the vista. He sounds pleased as he speaks,"The Blood Bay in all its glory. Is said that the first Lord Reaver, the Iron Lion, chose the site for the Palace because of that very scene, albeit a thousand and more years gone.

"The bay carries the bloody color because of silt deposits stirred by the many rivers flowing into it. After weeks without storm and rain the silt will occasionally settle somewhat, and the waters are streaked with blue. A fine sight, but the storms have been fierce these past weeks..."

The Hound lapses into silence as the car moves off of the gorge and approaches the massive steel gates of the Seastone Palace.

*grumbles*

Icarus Traiden nodded as he listened to the Panteran. Before Caval had even mentioned the Bay or the city, Traiden was admiring its beauty. It looked almost as though blood itself was crashing up against the rocks of the shore, and it stirred Traidens soul slightly. "Perhaps this is where they get their warrior spirit... a bay of blood would rouse any man to combat."

He looked back to the city and was immedietly reminded of Eurydice's largest city, Cornwall. While the man made pillars that seemed to reach for the gods differed in design, the impact was all the same. It reminded him of his home and the towering structures that seemed to toy with the clouds and poke fun at Keer himself. (Keer=Eurydian God who created... everything)

"A competition you say? I heartily agree that a joust and fight would raise the spirits of all in attendance. My advisor Samson is quite skilled with the Eurydian slimsword and Crosbuk, perhaps he could provide a worthy challenge to one of your soldiers."

As Traiden said this Samson looked over and nodded. Samson was not a normal Eurydian. Most were short and thin; Perhaps it was the climate, perhaps the diet. Whatever it was, Eurydice was a land full of physically small people. They were strong in their own right, but compared to a Panteran they were nothing more than a fly, a nuisance. Because of this lack of strength and power, Eurydian combat is centered around speed and agality. The Slimword is a long sword, but very light and therefore quick to strike. Imagine a french style of sword combat and you'd have Eurydian combat pretty well in hand.

As said before, Samson was not a normal Eurydian. He stood roughly 6'3" and weighed in excess of 180 pounds, unheard of in Eurydian culture. All of this weight was devoted to muscle, and even when not flexed his sinew and chisled features showed. Samson was quite possibly the strongest Eurydian, and therefore he could prove a match for a Panteran Warrior.

"I accept the offer of combat my leige. I have no Slimsword with which to use though... I must find one." As the advisor spoke his voice was calm and soothing. Not altogether "wussy," just layed back.

Traiden nodded and looked to Kiyane, "Is it all right with you if we... duke it out?" Traiden smiled as he finished.

Kiyane, who was staring at the Blood Bay, looked to her uncle with a semi-startled expression. "Pardon? Yes, yes. A joust is fine. I have heard that Panterans are quite good at hand to hand combat, and I wouldn't mind seeing it for myself."

Once she had finished addressing the occupants in the car, she turned her head back to the Blood Bay. Perhaps she wished that her own mortal coil be tossed into the sea, and her blood mixed with that of the bay.

Bobbing his head in agreement, the Hound Samson thoughtfully before speaking,"You're well built. Better a longsword or a thick rapier. With anything smaller I'm fairly certain you will do well againt the slower, heavier combatants, but the sellswords and Dancers may give you trouble. They move like liquid steel and handle broadsword and cutlass with equal ease..."

Waving a steel clad hand dismissively the car slows, and Caval swings open the door"A subject for later..."

As the group emerges from the car, the Hound barks an order and the great steel gates swing open. Leading the party though, he trails a hand absently over a weather worn gargoyle. The walls and towers are all crowned with a thousand of these beasts, all different. Soaring griffins top the massive citadel, manticore and dragons war along the ramparts, and krakens rear from the seaward walls.

The inner walls of the Palace houses a town, grown over the years into a small city. The buildings and houses of the small city are all cut and carved from the same grey-green stone as the mighty fortress itself.

Mounting a broad stairway, Caval speaks once more,"My Pardons for the walk, Your Grace, but no automobiles are allowed through the outer walls. Elven assassins once tried to detonate a carbomb beneath the walls of the Palace. Though they failed, Bastien felt caution was preferrable to error. The Lord Reaver himself is not exempt from this rule..."

Pushing through a thick oaken door, its planks lined with iron straps, the Hound leads the party into a long hall. Servants in the burgundy raiment of House Vayne sweep to meet the group as he turns and nods,"Your Grace, My Lady, welcome to the Seastone Palace. Please, take comfort and know that all you see is your own. If you would like to refresh yourselves, one of these young ladies will show you to your chambers. When you are ready, inform them and you will be escorted to the Lord Reaver, and Lord Gaise.

I apologize, but I must take my leave of you. I have yet to enter the lists, and it must be done before evenfall. My Lady, it has been a pleasure. Emporer Traiden, I have been blessed with your conversation, and I look forward to speaking once again."

The Hound makes a polite bow, pressing his gaunlet cased hand to his breast and turning. He saunters away through the cavernous halls of the Palace, its walls covered in fantastic tapestries of beasts and battle. Longships beaching on strange and distant shorlines and villages burning in the distance hang alongside detailed paintings of flowers and the Gods of Wind, Water and War.

As the form of Caval disappears, the group of servants waits, ready to lead.

{{OOC: Sorry, I'm not really happy with this scene, but good enough I guess. My grandfather is here and we're gonna drink a few beers together, or I would rewrite it. Back soon.

Kiyane sat on her bed in the guest room with which she was to stay in. The room was lavishly furnished and meticulously decorated. Bouquets of flowers rested in vases on gold encrusted tables and counters. The bed itself was a deep crimson and gold, and a large mirror hung in the center of a wall. That was where Kiyane was looking. She stared into her eyes, trying to find herself in them.

”Hmmm… what a strange life I lead. When I was a child I never imagined I would be sitting in the Seastone Palace of Pantera, marrying a man I have never met. I’m sure he is kind and handsome, but… I am not even given a choice on the matter. Uncle Traiden thinks he can just tell me what to do. *sigh* Oh well… I assume this wedding will be a glorious one, and I suppose I should vie my husband a chance.”

She stood up and began to comb her flowing hair. Emperor Traiden poked his head in and smiled in his usual, innocent manner. ”Are you ready my dear? We are about to head down and meet… some people. Hurry up if you are not… we are waiting on you.” He removed himself from the room, and Kiyane sighed. She put her brush down and walked out into the hallway.

As the servants lead thier guests into the Grand Hall, the Lord Reaver ceased his jesting with the assembled Reaver Lords and other guests and watched as the Eurydians made thier way closer.

His smile was amiable as he bowed low, placing a fist to his heart. Standing at just under seven feet tall and clad in burgundy lacquered platemail and a flowing shadowskin cloak, he is quite an impressive figure.

The assembled Lords all rise in the presence of the Emporer, inclining thier heads respectfully as the Lord Reaver speaks,"Welcome to Pantera, Emporer Traiden. Though too many to name, this is my small council, those who I allow the day to day running of Pantera..."

His voice trailing off as he eyes Kiyane, Bastien makes another bow, his striped cloak sweeping about his shoulders,"My Lady, it does my heart well to see your beauty, and I am now regretful of promising your hand to my brother."

The Lords all laugh at thier Lord's jest, but he ignores them, continuing,"I am sure Gaise will prove himself worthy of your love, and you of being called his wife...

Glancing around thoughtfully, he raises a hand to rub at a clean-shaven jaw,"i]I wonder where my wayward Lord of the Southern Sea's has run to...[/i]

{{OOC: I've got an RPT on another game, so I may be scarce, but i'll continue to check in, and post if I get the chance...}}

Kiyane curtsied. She looked around to the Reavers, eyeing all of them shrewdly. Which one was her husband? It would turn out that none of them would be the man, and so Kiyane settled her eyes back on the Lord Reaver.

"It is a pleasure to meet you my lord. Your fame is only exceeded by your kindness."

As she finished Emperor Traiden nodded, Indeed Lord Bastien. It is a great pleasure to finally meet you. Now... where is this man that is to be my niece's husband?"

As they all waited, there were more pleasentries and introductions.

As the Emporer quiets, Bastien makes as if to speak but hesitates, raising a hand to point across the Grand Hall,"There is the answer to your question, Emporer..."

Striding across the cavernous chamber is the groom to be, Gaise Starshone.

Clad in burgundy silk and bleached leathers that strain against the corded muscles of his upper body, he moves with the easy, well balanced gait of a warrior. His black hair hangs loose about his face and shoulders, swinging gently as he strides toward his half brother and his wife to be.

His smooth shaven face eases into a small smile as he approaches, his gaze sweeping over the group of Reavers and the foreigners with interest.

The gathered Reavers hold their silence, and Bastien leans casually back against the the great oaken table, watching with interest.

Gaise's strange eyes, one emerald green the other a tawny gold, flash in the firelight, his head tilting slightly to the side as he looks to Kiyane. From head to toe and over again Gaise studies his wife to be, drawing a few deep, calming breaths before he finally steps forward and reaches a hand into the silken cloak draped about his broad shoulders.

From within the cloak, he pulls a freshly picked flower. The color of the petals is a stunning shade of red, fading to a deep purple and back to the crimson of blood and veined with black and blue threads across the bloom. Cruel, black thorns sprout from the stem of the flower, the barbed multitude a strange contrast to the beauty of the flower itself.

As the remainder of the hall quiets, Gaise extends the fragile blossom toward Kiyane, and lowers his eyes to the mosaic floor beneath his feet. It is a fine scene, the mighty warrior and what may be his Lady love, both bathed in firelight at the moment of thier meeting.

Gaise's voice is strong as he offers the bloom,"My Lady... Your beauty clouds my mind and ties my tongue, so I shall resort to Legend...

"It is said that the very first Lord Reaver, the Iron Lion, offered a bloom of SunShade to his Lady in the first moments after they had met, for she had siezed his wits so that he could not speak to her. His gesture was not in vain, for she too felt the stirrings of passion deep within. Thier love and union held Pantera together through the darkest years of history. Thier children have ruled with honor and justice for nigh on a thousand years...

"Now, I offer you this blossom. Sunshade, same as the blossom that changed the face of the earth so long ago...

"My Lady Kiyane, I am Gaise Starshone, and if you will have me, then you shall have anything you desire. My brother and your uncle have both agreed upon this marriage, yet should you love me not, honor will not allow me to wed you... The choice is yours, My Lady."

Flicking a quick glance at Bastien, his face creased in a frown, Gaise hurriedly gazes once more into the eyes of Kiyane,"Should you choose to remain unwed, I shall be distressed and distraught, but I will defeat and destroy any who would challenge your word.

"However, should you choose to consent and grace me by bearing my sons, I vow that you will be my Sun and Stars."

Drawing a deep breath, he takes a deep breath of the fragrant bloom, offering it gallantly once more and bending himself at the waist, Gaise concludes,"My Lady, I am Gaise Starshone, Lord of the Southern Seas and a hundred other hollow titles. Strong sons we shall make and daughters of fabled beauty.I offer you my soul, now and for every second of eternity.

"So, take this bloom if you will. Take it, and let us forge a new future."

Bastien's face has finally eased back into his smile. The lad had flair, he had to admit, but he would have him strung up by the heels if the girl balked...

*growls* Bloody hell. Double posts. I'm not happy with that at all, but there it is. Written it too many times to have it eaten by the goddamn forums.

Kiyane had many thoughts racing through her mind. The words just spoken could have soothed a raging lion and tamed a nest of hornets. She had never heard such beautifully woven sentences or melodically shaped phrases as the ones Gaise had uttered, and yet when she attempted to reach for the flower, her arm remained limp. Her gaze moved from the flower to Gaise himself. She stared into his unorthodox eyes as though she were solving some sort of puzzle.

The green and gold of his eyes held her gaze for what seemed an eternity. She knew that if she took this flower, it would mean she accepted and consented to this wedding. If she refused, Emperor Traiden as well as Gaise himself would be embarrassed to no end. This man was a handsome one, and charming to boot, yet her mind was filled with uncertainties as well as terribly nagging doubts. Kiyane’s eyes moved quickly back to the flower, and she bit her lip. In a sudden flash she made her mind.

She slowly and meticulously reached her hand out and took the flower, being careful not to touch the thorns. Her hand lightly brushed against Gaise’s, and as they touched, she looked to him and smiled weakly. With the flower in her watchful grasp, she took a slight whiff of the flower, taking in all its fragrance.

”Gaise, I am Kiyane Traiden, and it is my profound… pleasure to meet you. I had been told to expect a charmer of sorts… but this is quite the surprise.” As she said this she laughed softly and a tiny, flirtatious smile flashed across her face. The others in attendence, including Icarus (who was now quite pleased by what he was hearing from his neice) chuckled softly. ”The descriptions of you do not do you justice. Your… features may be rough and your armor may be coarse and worn, but your handsome, strong face would lull any lady into security.”

She breathed as if to speak again, but looked to the others around her. ”Perhaps we can compliment eachother further in a more private setting, I feel as though many are watching us… and I dare not say something in mixed company.” Again the flirtatious smile was etched upon her face. She liked Gaise, and knew that she could spend at least some quality time with him… it was much better than she had expected.

Gaise's smile is stunned as he nods his assent and looks to the Emporer,"By your leave, Your Grace?"

At his nod, Gaise leads Kiyane through the grand hall to a set of bronze doors, carved and fanciful. As he pulls them open a gust of icy cold air stirs his cloak about his shoulders. Pulling two thick, bearskin coats from a rack, he then leads his wife to be up a long set of stairs, his forehead creased in thought.

When he and Kiyane emerge from the darkened stairwell, they are atop the soaring heights of the Seastone Palace.

With the last purple whispers of the sun fading, the crashing waves of the Bay are touched with an indigo glow. The gentle wind is icy, but Gaise seems uncaring. Placing the pair of bearskin coats over the stump of was once certainly a fearsome gargoyle, he turns back to Kiyane and regards her cooly.

His strange eyes intent, he seems to wrestle with his words before finally turning to stare out across the waters of the Bay. The wind ruffles his black hair, flapping at his cloak and clothing. Closing his eyes and allowing the wind to caress his face, he finally speaks,"My Lady... Those were not idle words I spoke. You have set me afire..."

Giving a soft click of his tongue he turns from the ramparts once more and looks directly at Kiyane,"My tongue is twisted, and my mind clouded, My Lady. I know not what to say... "

Raising a calloused hand, Gaise gently trails the backs of his fingers down her cheek,"Such beauty..." As the touch lingers, the hardness around the warriors eyes softens, and for the first time in years, Gaise felt at peace, at least for the moment.

A smile came over her impulsively as Gaise touched her cheek. Kiyane looked out over the ocean, the wind tossing her hair around like red leaves in autumn. Being a woman of some mettle, she was still having her doubts about this whole wedding.

”I did not mean to be dismissive of your compliments, I just felt rather embarrassed with so many onlookers. I felt we could talk more… privately if we were alone. For you see, while I am flattered by our words, and am sure you mean them, I find my wits torn. I feel as though this whole thing has been rushed. They do not care for our feelings… my feelings. Well… I mean to say, that’s what I thought. I have met you now Gaise, and I find you to be a… god among men, so to speak. I shall marry you Gaise… but… it may be a short time before I truly come to love you.”

Kiyane smiled softly. She stood on her tiptoes and gave Gaise a small kiss on the cheek. ”I know this will work out, for I sense something strong between us. I know you feel it already, and I know I shall feel it in time, perhaps by the end of the wedding.” She sighed once more and thrust her face towards the sun that hung low on the horizon. The Seastone Palace was a beautiful place, and as these two lovers came to know each other better, it became a backdrop for understanding.

(OOC: I just love a mushy ending to a post. :wink: )

Long into the night did they talk, of past, present, and times to come when they would be together. Gaise was easy going, attempting to keep his manner cool, but the woman set him afire like none ever before. He had his own doubts, to be sure, but he had but to look at her, and feel the beginnings of fanatical devotion stir within him. Her words had hurt him, slightly, but he knew that in time, she would come to love him, and the sons she would bear.

Her kiss had been soft, and his mind roiled with the thought of more, but he continued to maintain. Her conversation and nearness were more than enough for now.

Finally, though, with the moon high and the Palace asleep, Gaise bid his Lady farewell, saying,"Sleep well, My Lady. Tomorrow we shall enjoy the tourney Bastien has planned, we shall feast, and when even falls, we shall be wed. A glorious day, and we must be rested."

Taking her hand, he places a gentle kiss on her palm and smiles, torchlight from a wall sconce glinting gold in his brown eye.

{{OOC: Bored, so I'll just poke things along...}}

Gaise rose early the next morning, feeling well rested and eager to meet the day. Bathing and dressing quickly in a black suit of soft leather, a roaring shadowcat pickd in golden thread upon the breast. Thrusting a jewelled dirk through his belt, he pulls his hair back from his face, ties it with a thing silk cord and finally leaves his chambers.

Emerging from the the high tower into the crisp morning air, he makes his way down a flight of serpentine steps, moving for the fenced off tourney grounds, already teeming with activity. Great pavillions have been erected, offering food and games for those come to enjoy the tourney, and the wedding festivities.

Bastien finds his brother Dayne drinking dark beer from a sivler horn, and roaring at two golden haired boys, who were his squires. One of the boys drops the helm he had been holding, the hunk of metal clanging off a table and causing quite a ruckus. Dayne had rounded on the boy, but Gaise quickly stepped in and laughed,"Easy, Evenstar. You should do for your bloody self if they donna suit you."

Spinning about, the blonde-haired youth flashes Gaise a wicked smile, his anger vanishing in an instant,"My Lord of the Wenches, tell me, did your Lady let you get a bit last night? You stayed up there long enough t' have wedded and bedder her thrice over."

Gaise laughed along with Dayne and his squires before shaking his head and taking up the great broadsword that the Evenstar would carry into battle, its shimmering length inscribed with ebony runes, and incised with three deep fullers. Dayne was the favorite to win the Melee, and for good reason. Taller than Bastien or Gaise, he moved like a panther and was muscled like a god. His berserk valor had won him almost a score of tourneys already, and him only one and twenty

Sighing, Gaise replaces the sword and asks Dayne,"You seen her? Aye, then you know what I'm in for. You should hear her, Dayne. Fierce and soft by turns, but iron beneath it all. She'll make me a good woman, though she says it may be long before she loves me..." Grinding his teeth softly, he shakes his head. He had brooded over this the entire night.

Dayne's purple eyes dance with amusement, clicking his tongue softly and sharing a wink with his squires before telling Gaise,"That is the way with these arranged marriages. Worry not. You are a good man, a fine Lord to your people, andyou will make a fine father. Get a child on her, and quick. Tha'll seal the alliance by blood, and bring you and your flame-kissed wife that much closer." Shaking his head as if he had spoken the most obvious thing ever, he motions to his squires who begin to buckle his breastplate over the thickly padded cotton undershirt.

Gaise shrugs irritably and helps himself to a horn of Dayne's beer, dark and so thick you could almost chew it. Soon they are laughing and waxing fond about a day long ago, when they had pushed the much older Bastien into an icy pond. He had been furious, and had stripped them both to thier bare asses and commanded them to walk home, while he himself drove behind them, honking to bring the people of the castle town out of thier homes.

Finally Gaise takes the last swallow of his beer and bids his brother good luck in the coming tourney. Making his way to the shaded pavilion from which he would watch the action with his wife to be, Bastien, Emporer Traiden, and numerous other Panteran and foreign nobility.

Though the day is early, the lists will be announced shortly and Gaise is content to sit and listen to the heralds cry and the town bustle. Sending a servant to fetch him another horn of beer, he kicks his feet up onto the raised barricade and awaits the coming day.

(OOC: so sorry it takes me so long to post... personal problems are keeping my creative mind from thinking strait.:?)

It was not like Kiyane to sleep in. Emperor Traiden rapped against the door to her room once more, and let out a sigh. His knuckles were becoming a bit red, and so was his face. He was beginning to rouse the other guests with his banging. ”Kiyane… are you ready yet? Gaise and the others have been ready for over an hour!”

From within the room Traiden heard the frantic sounds of someone who was late, and all he could hear from Kiyane was a ”Hold on will you!” Traiden rolled his eyes and walked away from the door and down the steps to the main hall. The Emperor was clad in his wardrobe’s finest, he was sporting his leather and gold plate mail armor that was stylized to fit just so. The crown that he rarely wore was a simple ring with large emeralds sequenced throughout. He glistened against the light of the morning sun as he greeted Bastien. ”Good day, I hope preparations are coming along smoothly. Kiyane is still getting ready, bless her heart, but she should be down within moments.

With a slight sigh Icarus nodded in a sort of “self-agreement” and folded his arms. Samson was already downstairs, and he was helping himself to a bit of wine as he prepared himself for the days activities. He wore a simple uniform of black pants and a purple shirt with an orange collar (the colors of the nation’s flag.) He looked to the other guests, wondering which warrior would face him in battle.

*bump for Pantera*

The grey streaking the golden hair of the Lord Reaver seems to soften his hard gaze, giving him a distinguished, almost reserved look. Bobbing his head, he gestures to Icarus and says,"Come, Emporer. The joust has already begun. We should see the final tilts, and then comes the melee." At that, he inclines his head amiably to Samson before leading the party through the grounds toward the great silken pavilion where Gaise is already waiting.

The young Reaver rises as his Lord Brother and the Emporer approach. He makes a polite bow and gestures to his bench. As the group seats themselves, Gaise glances to Samson and smiles,"You want a tip for survival in the melee? Watch our brother, the Evenstar. Stick by his side and you'll do well. Alone, the Reavers and water dancers will cut you to pieces. You stick with Dayne, and they'll think twice about coming for you..."

Gaise trails off as two Reavers move to the ends of the lists. The stands, almost bulging now, erupt in raucous applause as the two champions salute and await the cries of their heralds.

One is clad in shining silver platemail, his cloak blue and grey stripes, with a twin-tower sigil emblazoned on his oaken shield. A small herald in gue-grey livery stands and cries,"Ser Trant of the Tree Towers, Reaver Lord of the Red Tides." Rearing his charger, the man wheels the beast and gallops to his end of the lists.

The second man is clad in familiar soot grey platemail and the crimson raiment of House Vayne and the Lord Reaver. The fabled dogshead helm atop his head, and a snarling beast adorning his shield, the Hound is more subdued than his foe, and but raises his lance to the Lord Reaver's pavilion as his herald cries,"Caval the WarHound, Sworn Sword of our Lord Reaver, and Justice of Pantera" The eruption of howls and cheers is deafening, and it would seem the Hound is a favorite of the commoners packing the stands.

As the two men ready themselves and crouch thier lances, the Noble Judge of the Games raises his voice and shouts over the crowd,"Tilt!"

Spurring his charger viciously, the Hound roars as the horse thunders forward. Crouching his lance expertly, and leaning to his left, he plants the tip of his lance squarely in his foe's shield. A splintering -crack-, and fine Ser Trant is in the dust, with Caval circling and saluting his Lord before exiting the lists.

Bastien's nod is approving and proud as he tells Icarus,"My Hound will have the day today, as always. Thrice the age of most of these pansies, but he could cut through them all with no trouble..."

Chewing a lip slowly, Bastien glances at Gaise who seems to not be paying them any mind. Clearing his throat, he lowers his voice and looks to his companion,"Emporer. I hate to raise this matter now, but time runs short. Forgive me if I ask what is not my business, but it does concern me...

"May I ask, what of your crown? I may be wrong, but I believe you have no children of your own, with the Lady Kiyane being your closest relation, no? Would this not put her in line for succession upon, Gods forbid, your death?

"I only ask because now that our blood is joined... Well, I have always found it is best to err on the side of caution. Should the time come, I would know who you wish to claim your throne, and assure whoever that may be that my Reavers will ensure the rule of your line forever."

The crack of a lance draws Bastien's eyes back to the lists, just in time to see a Reaver in green armor devastate a freerider in plain iron plate. The hiss of the crowd is audible as the victor tosses the snapped shaft of his lance down at his fallen foe.

Emperor Traiden was excited to no end. Such a spectacle of destruction and carnage had never been seen on Eurydian soil. His eyes would widen every time a lance would find its target, splintering into a million pieces. He thought for a moment if the Great Houses would ever allow something like this to take place back home. He knew though that the Houses were to pompous to allow a bloodsport like this.

"Bastien, this truly is a marvelous event! I'm going to try to get it added as an official Eurydian sport. His smile is broad and childlike as he continues to stare down to the bottom of the arena. As the various warriors raise their lances to the pavillion, Icarus would raise his glass. That was until Bastien brought up the issue of lineage.

"My mind has been trying to avoid this matter for quite some time. While I may have other relatives of close relation, none are suited to weild the power that the title of Emperor carries along with it. I suppose Kiyane would be next in line... for I have dictated it in my will that she should take the crown once I have... passed away." As he said this a resounding crack could be heard. Traiden looked to the battlefield and saw a warrior laying on the ground, writhing in pain.

"I suppose Gaise will be Emperor... with Kiyane as Empress. I wonder if Gaise would mind?" Icarus flashed a quick smile and looked to his soon to be nephew in law. He let out a sigh, adjusted his crown, and returned his eyes to the days events.

Gaise grunts softly at the Emporers words, blinking slowly, but holding his tongue. Bastien on the other hand laughs heartily and raises his voice to be heard over the roar of the crowd,"I'm sure Gaise would make a fine ruler, though I'm sure your Lords would have something to say about a... barbarian as thier Emporer. Better to dub him Prince Consort and allow the running of the nation to Kiyane. Gaise can be her plaything behind the scenes."

Gaise's eyes blaze at his brothers words, but an angry retort is cut short by the cry of the Royal Herald. "Lords and Ladies, Honored Guests and commoners alike, the lists are complete, save for the final tilt. Two heroes shall now ride against one another, and we shall have our Champion. Reavers, assume your places in the lists!"

As the herald steps down, the Hound canters into the arena and makes a slow circuit of the tourney grounds, the visor of his helm lifted and revealing a grim smile. The crowds go crazy, stomping, roaring and showering him with flowers and favors. One of these favors, a strip of crimson silk, he catches from the air and ties around his wrist. The slihgt, dark eyed woman who tossed it is stunned into silence as he leans from his charger and places a light kiss on her cheek.

Finally the Hound moves to his place in the lists and his opponent is announced,"Lords and Ladies, the Beast and Blade of the Blackstone, Lord of the High Passes and High Chief of the Kaltoi, Deric Warsong!"

Bastien snickers as the Reaver trots his destrier out onto the grounds. Clad in the green platemail, the dislike of the commoners for his previously unchivalrous acts is made known by jeering and hissing.

"Remember him? The one who tossed his shaft at the fallen foe? A brute he is. Feared and hated by his own people, but a strong Lord all the same. I would have done away with him much earlier, but he would have called his banners and I won't have another civil war... Should be a good match. He and my Hound have an old hatred..."

As the green-clad warrior reaches his place, and the Noble Judge of the Games raises his hand, the lack of proper salute to the Lord Reaver's pvilion is noted by the commons and Nobility alike. Fierce whispering and hissing make Bastien's mouth tighten, but he motions to the Judge who shouts,"Reavers! For the title of Champion! TILT!"

The thunder of hooves echoes through the almost silent stands as the two make their charge. A crash and an explosion of wood, and suddenly the Hound is fighting to keep his saddle. Finally he regains control of his mount and moves back to his starting posiion. Snarling at his squire, he takes the offered lance and crouches it, his eyes blazing inside the dogshead helm.

At the cry of the Judge, the chargers once more pound forward. Warsong turns his lance expertly, but the Hound sways aside and plants the tip of his lance directly in the lobstered steel of his foes gorget. A sickening pop is heard over the crunch of the steel, and the green-clad Reaver crumbles from his saddle, a gory tide of blood staining the shining emerald lacquer of his armor from the wound in his neck, adorned with a foot long shaft of snapped lance.

The Hound roars his triumph, though the sound is lost amid the pandamonium of the crowds. Turning, he rides closer to the body and raises his shattered lance in victory before flinging it at the corpse of his now vanquished foe.

Bastien laughs, nodding approvingly and standing. As the crowds quiet, the Hound kicks his horse into a slow trot, moving to the woman who had offered him her favor. Offering a strong arm, he swings the girl to his mount and kisses her soundly. The commons once more erupt into wild cheering for their hero, but it is cut short as Caval walks his horse slowly to the Lord Reavers pavilion, the girl cradled in his arms.

Bastien raises his voice and declares,"Our Champion! My faithful Hound. As victor of this tilt, and champion of our joust, I bid you ask anything of me. Anything, my swornsword, and you shall have it."

The Hound jerks a thumb at the corpse without looking back,"Blackstone, M'lord. And the High Passes."

Bastien cocks his head curiously, watching the Hound a long moment before declaring,"Then it is by my word that you are raised to the title of Lord. Name your castellan, for you are not made to rule, my Hound. You are a warrior, and at my side you will stay... Glancing down at the girl, Bastien laughs and says,"And may you and your new Lady find all happiness together. Pantera! Rejoice!"

Applause and shrill whistles echo as the Hound rides off, whispering softly to his bride.

Bastien raises his hands for silence once more and bellows,"Now, my people, comes the moment you have waited for. The Melee! To all combatants, may the gods of War strengthen your blade, and those of Wind give you speed to prevail."

Glancing back at Icarus, Bastien chuckles and motions for a servant to refill his glass,"Your thoughts, Emporer? A fine showing, and one that worked out better than I had ever hoped. My Hound was in quite a fury, no?"

OOC: Bah. My spelling is disgusting tonight. Check your tellies, if you haven't.

The Eurydian Emperor still had a look of awe in his eyes as he looked to Bastien. Icarus could never engage in such feats of strength, being only at a height of 5’9” and a mere 155 pounds, but how he wished he could be there on the battlefield, pitting lance against hardened steel and the like.

”I am quite impressed at your warriors strength; his power could rival that of 5 Eurydians put together. I am afraid even our strongest, Samson, would surely be crushed by such power. Even Beowulf would succumb to your Reavers. Nay, we Eurydians must use our technology to ensure our safety. Traiden stood and looked out, surveying the audience who came to watch the day’s events. He once again turned to the Lord Reaver. ”Pardon me… but I was wondering if I could make a brief speech before the melee combat begins?”

Bastien gave no objection, and within a few moments he had reigned in the Panteran spectators to a dull murmur. Emperor Traiden approached the edge of the pavilion, the midmorning sun beating down on his face. Icarus looked like a mere speck to the listeners, for the rampart that he, Bastien, as well as the others, sat on, was a gigantic stone fortification.

”People of Pantera, honored warriors and peasants alike, I thank you for being such hospitable guests to my niece, Kiyane, as well as me. Quaint and considerate countries are a dime a dozen, so to speak, but to find one as generous and at the same time ferociously strong, I say it is near impossible. Fortunately it seems I have stumbled upon a fabled country such as this, and its name is Pantera!” Traiden raised a fist as the crowd burst into applause and shouts. Traiden kept shouting, ”Long live Pantera!” but he doubted the spectators could hear him.

The Eurydian Emperor still had a look of awe in his eyes as he looked to Bastien. Icarus could never engage in such feats of strength, being only at a height of 5’9” and a mere 155 pounds, but how he wished he could be there on the battlefield, pitting lance against hardened steel and the like.

”I am quite impressed at your warriors strength; his power could rival that of 5 Eurydians put together. I am afraid even our strongest, Samson, would surely be crushed by such power. Even Beowulf would succumb to your Reavers. Nay, we Eurydians must use our technology to ensure our safety. Traiden stood and looked out, surveying the audience who came to watch the day’s events. He once again turned to the Lord Reaver. ”Pardon me… but I was wondering if I could make a brief speech before the melee combat begins?”

Bastien gave no objection, and within a few moments he had reigned in the Panteran spectators to a dull murmur. Emperor Traiden approached the edge of the pavilion, the midmorning sun beating down on his face. Icarus looked like a mere speck to the listeners, for the rampart that he, Bastien, as well as the others, sat on, was a gigantic stone fortification.

”People of Pantera, honored warriors and peasants alike, I thank you for being such hospitable guests to my niece, Kiyane, as well as me. Quaint and considerate countries are a dime a dozen, so to speak, but to find one as generous and at the same time ferociously strong, I say it is near impossible. Fortunately it seems I have stumbled upon a fabled country such as this, and its name is Pantera!” Traiden raised a fist as the crowd burst into applause and shouts. Traiden kept shouting, ”Long live Pantera!” but he doubted the spectators could hear him.

*Damned forums*