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Posted: Sep 16th, 2008 at 11:26 pm
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Authion left seeking Amdir out until he had seen to his other errands first-the accomplishing of which took him a few hours. Only after all was arranged/settled-mostly-did he began to make his way to where he was certain he would find the courier. Overhead, the sky began to paint itself in rose and gold as the sun began to set.
As he continued on his way and the sky began to pass from sunset to dusk, elves began to appear to light the lanterns of the city that hung outside entrances and at the meetings of streets. Soon gold, amber, and white pinpricks of light gave off warm glows; even joined, occasionally, by appearences of soft purple, blue or rose as the dusk began to fall in its turn to twilight.
Soon after Authion came to Amdir's house. Each noble-born of the city-from the greatest to the least-had housing in the Nobles's Quarter and Amdir was no exception. Authion did too,in fact, as did the high Lords and Ladies that governed the other cities of the realm in the Queen's name. The knight shook his head as he raised a hand to knock on the ebon-wood door.
"Do you seek me Lord-Captain Authion?," a familiar voice inquired formally.
Authion turned deliberately slowly to face Amdir. The younger elf was already garbed in feast raiment and his normally cool expression betrayed a hint of curiousity.
"Yes." Authion wasted no time mincing words. "Her Majesty has decided you are to accompany on the journey to Lord Oron's. We leave at the sunrise. See that you are ready Amdir." He subjected the other to a brief, yet intense, look. "It will not be an easy journey, nor a brief one. Be sure that you are packed accordingly."
Something very like uncertainty and confusion flickered through Amdir's ice blue eyes as the met the knight-commander's steady gaze and an unreadable emotion rippled across his face. He spoke not,but bowed, silently. Authion nodded to him curtly. "I will see you at feast. Take care to be on time."
The message left unspoken was: Behave, and prove yourself worthy of this honour she has shown to you. As he left, he cast one last glance subtly back over his shoulder. Amdir had not moved, and wore a look of ill-concealed bafflement and surprise.
Authion could only smile to himself. He knew that Amdir had not expected to be told he could go with, and was morever, still expecting to be punished for provoking Grease the night before. And Authion thought he now had his answer for why Amdir had wanted to come badly enough to approach him. He was anxious to redeem himself in Elestirne's opinion and show that he could be of goodwill to men and deserving to keep his position. He wanted to prove himself. But he was also still expecting punishment, but had no idea when it would come-though he was determined to face it. Soft elvensong began to fill the air and a light rain began to fall as Authion made his way home to change for the feast. A low,soft chuckle escaped the red-haired warrior as he thought, It should prove to be an interesting journey...
« Last Edited by
Lady Elestirne
Sep 17th, 2008 at 09:24 pm »
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True wisdom is not measured by the years one has walked the earth,but by the knowledge gained and the things seen during that time
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Posted: Sep 18th, 2008 at 10:34 pm
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With his thanks, Oron took his leave of the Queen walking in the direction that she had indicated. Slowly, he wandered the corridors, completely at ease. Oron’s eyes wandered as he walked taking in all of the sights and sounds of the day. He made mental notes of the graceful, elegant nature of the palace’s stonework and architecture. He paused at great tapestries hung on the walls, seeing great battles and kings unknown to him. The palace seemed ageless and yet ancient at the same time.
The Kensman smiled easily to those elves that passed him in the corridors on his walk. He could not help but enjoy the grace and ease of their every movement. Oron himself had spent much of his life attempting to learn the same skill, to move as easily through his own world. Many the knew Lord Oron would be quick to say he had long ago mastered the skill of moving with silence and speed through the forests, unseen. They however had likely never spent anytime amongst the elves as Oron had.
In turn, the elves that passed Lord Oron were respectful; some even returned his smile (however faintly). But few could not help but stare a little at the lone human that wandered the halls. He did appear so out of place in this land of fair skinned elves, his skin burnt deep brown by years in the sun, long wind swept hair pulled back in a low topknot, and his odd mustache curled up at the ends. Truly the Kensman was never more a stranger in a strange land, than he was here and now in Taraer.
In time Oron found his way to his quarters, and began to make preparations for their departure on the morn. He laid out his meager collection of possessions upon the bed, and carefully inspected them for wear and damage. Oron went over each item in turn packing them in order back into his pack and saddlebags.
Next the Kensman turned his attention to his weapons. Oron handled each weapon in turn looking at old nicks, and checking for new. Examining the edges for dull spots that may need touching up. Oron pulled out a small honing stone from a pocket on his pack, and began to work on a couple of his knives that needed touching up. When he was satisfied that all were battle ready, he wiped them all down with an oil cloth and put each back into it’s sheath or scabbard. A slight smile crossed Oron’s lips as he looked over the tools of his chosen profession. Each well-crafted weapon had been hard tested on many battlefields, and served it’s purpose countless times. Their routine care, particularly before leaving for a long journey, was always oddly relaxing.
Then Oron turned his attention to his leather armor. Closely he looked over every strap, buckle, and fitting for signs of excessive wear. The Kensman ran his hands across the many scars his armor had acquired; he knew each one, like he knew the fingers on his hands. Oron then removed a small corked bottle and rag from his pack, pouring some of the thick cloudy oil onto the rag he wiped all of his armor down with the heavy conditioning oil. When he was finished, he wrapped the rag around the small bottle and placed it back into his pack. The armor was draped over a chair and left there to soak in the oil.
Satisfied that all of his gear was now in traveling order, Oron turned his attention to himself. The eyes of a realm would be upon him this evening, probably best not to stand before them looking like some road weary traveler their queen had chosen to taken in. Oron looked himself over in a polished mirror hanging on the wall. Rubbing his chin, he decided that a shave was definitely in order.
A faint knock on the door drew Oron away from his musings. He walked to the door and opened it to a young lad (likely a page of some kind, were Oron to guess), holding a pile of folded garments. “Lord Oron?” the boy asked sheepishly. “Yes, that would be me…” came Oron’s response, trying hard to suppress a small chuckle at the page’s obvious uneasiness. Twas unlikely the page had ever had reason to see a human this close before. “Nimtae Rilynnddare, Lord Oron.” the boy said in introduction, with some flourish (and perhaps a hint of pride). “Her Majesty Queen Elestirne’s Chancellor Mardil has bid me bring you these garments for tonight’s feast, with the hopes that you find them to your liking. The Chancellor has also asked that I enquire if there was anything you may need before the evenings festivities. I was told to see that every need was met. I am at your service, Sir.”
« Last Edited by
Oron the Wolf
Sep 21st, 2008 at 03:11 pm »
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Kinsman Oron the Wolf
A hard, lean, man of middle age, with long brown hair, and a handle bar mustache. An obvious veteran of many campaigns, wearing light leather armor. A short sword is strapped to his left hip, a large knife rests against the back of his wide hero's belt, and a small oval shield hangs over his shoulder.
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Posted: Sep 21st, 2008 at 11:10 pm
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"Thank you, Nimtae Rilynnddare." replied Oron attempting to repeat the boys name exactly as he had heard it. The Kensman accepted the folded garments from the page. Oron turned and walked across his quarters to the bed. He laid out the feast garments, admiring them, before he realized that he had left the page standing outside the door.
"Please come in. There are indeed some things that I could use to prepare myself for the feast this evening Nimtae. I need a large bowl of hot water, washcloths and towels. I must wash up for this evening, there are some things that just a simple change of clothes just will not fix, my young friend." Then young page listened intently, and nodded when Oron had finished. "I shall have those items brought to you immediately Lord Oron. Will there be anything else, Sir?" "That should do me well, thank you." With that, the young elf quickly turned and left.
It was not long after, that Oron again heard faint knocking on his door. Opening the door he found Nimtae Rilynnddare with his requested items. Oron thanked the young page again, dismissed him, and set about cleaning a month's worth of travel from his skin.
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Kinsman Oron the Wolf
A hard, lean, man of middle age, with long brown hair, and a handle bar mustache. An obvious veteran of many campaigns, wearing light leather armor. A short sword is strapped to his left hip, a large knife rests against the back of his wide hero's belt, and a small oval shield hangs over his shoulder.
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Posted: Sep 29th, 2008 at 12:55 pm
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After Oron had taken his leave of her, and left to wander the palace or city-or return to his rooms to prepare as he would-Elestirne turned and retired to her throne for a few moments to sit and think.
This journey to Oron's...it would certainly be the longest and furthest journey she had made thus far. Of this she had no doubt. How long might it take to reach his home? What would the journey be like? She rose from her throne and exited the room.
As she drifted in and out of the palace,and among the gardens other questions came to her. What would they see and whom might they meet? What would his lands and people be like? What would they/did they think of elves? What sort of treatment would she and those accompanying her recieve in Oron's home? How long might she be away from her beloved land and people on this journey, and how long returning? Longer than her people would be accustomed to, to be sure. But Mardil would govern them well.
Finding herself in front of her bedroom,she shook her head slightly and went in. Once within, she relaxed perceptibly and went to stand on her balcony, and from there gazed down into the gardens. Overhead, the sun was beginning to dip towards the horizon. The feast would be held at nightfall. She should begin to ready herself.
A light knock sounded just as she was turning from the balcony. "Enter."she called in the elven-tongue. One of the double doors opened and Mardil slipped in. Clad in his usual flowing robe,the steward bowed low before coming to her side as she left the balcony and re-entered the room. His expression was one of mild surprise. "Not yet ready my Queen?"he asked. "The sun begins to set."
"I was just about to begin to get ready. I have been much in thought."
Mardil looked at her keenly, but with a smile-almost as though he had known what her thoughts had been-but he did not comment on it. "I come to tell you that I have all ready for the feast-I would not see you off without a proper farewell as you well know. I also have seen the Lord Oron wandering the palace earlier this day. He seems much intrigued of our architecture, and much appreciative. Certainly, he is much more careful than Grease. And also...so that he need not feel as out of place this night as he might have the night before...I have sent a page to his rooms with feast raiment that should fit him."
"You think of everything old friend,"Elestirne noted appreciateively. "Could you see to it to send one back to his rooms to bring him down to the feast when the time is come?" Another thing occured to her. "And also...,"she murmured the rest carefully. Mardil nodded and again made a deep bow. "Of course. I shall see to both my queen. Is there anything else you wish of me?"
"Yes, in fact. Can you tell me if Authion has returned yet?"
Mardil shook his head. "Neither he nor Lord Amdir are returned to the Palace yet. But you need not worry. They will do so before feast my lady." He bowed and turned to leave. "When it is time I shall also send a page for you my queen to escort you to feast. For now though,I shall leave you to your preparations my lady." With one last bow Mardil took his leave and exited his chambers.
Elestirne shook her head faintly. A glance out through her balcony revealed that the sun had dipped further towards the horizon. It was time to ready herself for the feast. She knew that she could count on Mardil to hold to his word.
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True wisdom is not measured by the years one has walked the earth,but by the knowledge gained and the things seen during that time
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Posted: Sep 29th, 2008 at 02:29 pm
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Authion took only a few moments to stop at his own ancestral manor home to change into appropiate feast raiment before appearing once more on the streets and stepping briskly,yet unhurriedly, towards the palace and the royal grounds. Elven-song rose up about him as the stars began to dimple the sky and a smile touched his face as he passed through the gates of gold and silver onto the grounds towards the Palace; shining silver-white against the night by virtue of the enchantments placed on it ages ago.
The elven-knight smiled easily as the guards saluted and bowed him through the open front doors into the spacious entry hall. He moved forward a few paces, then simply halted for a moment; alternarely nodding, smiling or dipping short bows in response to the bows,salutes and words of greeting that came from elves whom recognized them;each according to their rank.
"Lord Authion."
Turning in the direction of the voice Authion discovered Mardil, standing only a few feet away with a pleasant smile. The elven-knight bowed deeply, with great respect. "My Lord-Steward."
Mardil's eyes twinkled briefly. "It is good you completeed your errands on time. Have you selected Knights as I asked you, to accompany the Queen, yourself and Lord Oron to his home?"
"Yes my lord. I chose six to accompany us. Given my prowess with a blade,and the considerable skill I saw from Oron-as well as the Queen's own ability-six seems a reasonable number, neither too small nor too large. I wish to keep this a small company as much as possible."
The steward nodded slightly, a smile playing on his lips. "Any more than that and it might seem unreasonably protective. I was right to leave the choosing of the number to you. Very well." With a slight movement of his head,Mardil indicated the corridor of the entryhall that led to the Great Hall. "Young Lord Amdir is returned as well. Please tell him that you both are to sit at the Queen's Table again, as will the Lord Oron. I myself will even be joining you. But for now I have a few other things to tend to."
Authion bowed respectfully. "Of course. It will be an honor for you to join us again."
The aged steward chuckled faintly. "It is honor for the Lord Oron. I wish for him to feel that he was welcome here during his brief visit, and hope that he enjoyed his stay here among us. But get you to feast now Authion. I shall join you after I see to what needs seeing to."
Again the elven-captain bowed and, taking his leave, started for the Great Hall. He located Amdir instantly. The young noble was speaking quietly with a few others on on the near side of the hall. Happening to to see Authion as he looked up for a moment, the courtier excused himself politely from his company and came to meet Authion;greeting the older elf with a respectful bow. "Lord-Captain."
Authon nodded briefly in aknowledgement. "Amdir. We are to sit at the Queen's Table again. Lord-Steward Mardil has informed me. As shall Lord Oron."
Amdir nodded. "That is not the only surprise of this night." He led the knight's gaze up to the High Table, where a regal silver stallion stood besides the Queen's throne quietly but attentively.
Authion drew in a startled breath. "Olore! Why is he here?" Like most of the realm, Authion had little knowledge about where the stallion had come from and how Elestirne had found him-or he her-nor why he was so devoted and loyal to the Queen. However,unlike most of the realm, the elven-knight-like Mardil-had a keener, more accurate understanding of what the silver stallion truly was-for he was clearly no normal horse-elven or otherwise. Authion had always been inclined to think of him as a spirit-being,for his own reasons. His presence here at the feast was indeed significant, as the silver stallion rarely appeared so publicly;preferring to be nearby,but just out of sight.
The red-haired elf allowed himself a small chuckle and smile. "Well...Lord Oron shall certainly find this a surprise-and perhaps a curiousity. I very much doubt that he has ever seen a horse-not even intelligent, favored mounts, stand at feast-in all the lands he has seen and traveled. An interesting beginning to what shall certainly be an interesting journey. Still," he mused,as the two took their seats at the table-Authion at his accustomed place on the left side of the throne, Amdir a few more down-with Olore standing on the other side of the throne. "I have to wonder why Olore chose to attend tonight."
Amdir shifted a shoulder in what might have been a shrug,with a wary glance to the silver stallion,who seemed either to have not noticed or deliberately not marked their presence-though he certainly could hear their words. "Whom can say? The stallion is an egnima and does what and when he will. Perhaps as a silent reassurance to the people that our lady-queen will not be without protection on this journey."
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True wisdom is not measured by the years one has walked the earth,but by the knowledge gained and the things seen during that time
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Posted: Sep 29th, 2008 at 02:50 pm
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After some time had passed knocks were again heard on the door to Oron's rooms. These knocks, although gentle, were not timid as the page's had been, but purposeful. A glance out of the open windows reveals that night is falling, and soft elven-song can be heard. As Oron opens the door he discovers, not a page or servant as might have been expected, come to lead him to the feast-but no less a person than the Lord-Steward himself standing on the threshold.
Mardil inclines his head ever so slightly to the man. "Good evening Lord Oron. I am most pleased to find that the raiment I selected and had brought to you fits. I hope that you find it to your liking? Feast raiment for mortals is, as a rule, a rare thing to come by in a land of elves,but we do try to have some in case it should be wanted." A pleasant smile touched the elven-steward's face. "And it has been, upon occasion." With an elegant gesture, Mardil indicated the rooms. "May I enter lord of Men? I would speak with you before the feast.,if you would allow it." The ancient steward's crystal-blue eyes were inquiring and friendly,yet, appraising at the same time.
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True wisdom is not measured by the years one has walked the earth,but by the knowledge gained and the things seen during that time
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The Lady and the Wolf - (Read 3,379 Times)
