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Post by Brandwyn on Nov 11, 2010 14:08:21 GMT -5
(OOC: Tory and Tandar)
Tory could see Tandar was very shaken by the incident and she wasn’t surprised. She would be a basket case if she had accidentally shot an innocent bystander. Surely Tandar couldn’t have missed. He was an expert shot. Something strange must have happened like the woman stepped into his arrow’s path or something like that. Why was he shooting in the crowd in the first place?
Although she had all these questions, she sensed that this was not the time or the place to find out what had happened. Tandar seemed to be too upset to handle a barrage of questions. Tory knelt beside the woman and followed Tandar’s instructions, getting a large bandage ready to press into the wound on the woman’s back when they drew the arrow out.
“I saw a medical tent set up down by the lists field. I would bet they have a physician on duty there.” Tory said calmly as they worked to stabilize the woman. “Maybe we can get her up on Ruldor or Chip and ride her down there.”
Tory looked around at the crowd and made note of the people who were watching. She wondered if any of them had seen the incident and knew what happened. Then she saw Ruldor, Tandar’s ranger horse, nose his way around a pavilion and walk up behind his master, whickering softly. She remembered having seen Ruldor with Brandwyn, but at the time had been so distracted she hadn’t paid any attention to the horse. He must have followed her and Chip, which would make sense since Ruldor and Chip had now spent several weeks together on the road.
Tory glanced back at Tandar and noticed he was as white as a sail on a Toscano merchant ship. She patted him on the shoulder, “It is going to be ok, Tandar. We know you didn’t mean for this to happen. Maybe one of these people saw it and can speak in your defense.” She indicated the crowd around them. She looked at the woman who was moaning and crying and at the location of the wound. “It is bad, but I don’t believe it is fatal. She should be ok if we can get the bleeding stopped.” Tory didn’t know a lot about wounds, but she had seen quite a few while in Gallica. Gut wounds were tricky from everything she had seen. Sometimes people bounced right back from them, but sometimes they just died and it was all very mysterious as to why.
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Post by Brandwyn on Nov 11, 2010 16:24:23 GMT -5
“Alas I am going to be quite busy for the next few days with the tournament for such a meeting but I will be free most evenings, I am sure you will not be on duty every night? Perhaps we can find a more convenient hour for our rendezvous.” Said Sir Rodney
Brandwyn pouted again for a moment but then brightened, all artfully and deliberately arranged, hardly without conscious thought that she was manipulating the knight. “Well, I have entered the tournament! Perhaps you will have time to see my matches with the rapier?”
Considering his next question, her face fell again, “Well probably not every evening, but at this time I do not know when my next free evening will be.” Aside from the fact she found him boorish and vile, she was leery of being anywhere alone with him. She suspected he might have some lecherous tendencies and she was setting herself up with all this flirting. She would have to be very, very careful. Beside all of that she had every intention of spending all of her spare time with Tandar.
They were almost upon the castle gates when Sir Rodney said, “Ah well here we are at the castle!"
Brandwyn looked up ahead and could see the ranger girl talking with an average looking man and the Princess. Her face lit up. “Why look! There is Her Highness now and just in time to see me bring in the scallywag!” Brandwyn smiled at Sir Rodney, and then raised her voice just as the Princess, the ranger girl and the man with them turned their heads toward the party entering the gates. “Greetings Your Highness!” Brandwyn gave her a curtsy and a big smile. She really liked the Princess who was only a few years older than she and very much like a big sister.
“Lady Brandwyn, what have you been up to?” The Princess looked at her dubiously. “I instructed you to go have some fun for a few hours before dinner and what do you do?” She was eyeing the Skandian and his condition and then she sized up Sir Rodney as she spoke to her Royal Scout retainer. “You go out on a crusade to curb crime in the faire, it seems.” She answered her own question. “What is going on here?”
Now Brandwyn had to tread very carefully. She didn’t want to completely alienate Sir Rodney as he was someone in a position that could be an asset sometime down the road. Brandwyn always tried to keep from burning bridges when she could avoid it, even when she disliked someone so intensely.
“Your Highness, I need to speak to the magistrate. There seems to be a dispute here that this young man was brawling and stole a cloak from this woman. He disputes the claim of course. Sir Rodney apprehended him and so we brought him here.” Brandwyn nodded to Mylia as she spoke.
“I am the magistrate here, Master Talvin at your service, My Lady.” The rather non-descript man at the Princess’s side gave her a bow and nodded to Sir Rodney. “I suppose I could hear the case now, since all parties are present?”
Brandwyn shook her head, “there is at least one witness who is missing, Your Honor, Ranger Tandar Polaris for whom the young man was assisting in the apprehension of a criminal.” She knew that was going to be a surprise to Sir Rodney and was curious as to his reaction. She was also rapidly loosing her addlebrained noble girl act and becoming all business. “But he is tied up with something at the moment. I suspect he will be along as soon as he is able.” Actually she wasn’t sure about that, but she might be able to send Mylia to find Tandar if they really needed to. For now she could be witness to the fact Aribjorn was helping him track down the large brute that had started the incident in the beer vendor’s tent.
“Very well, I will hear the others first then.” The Magistrate said. “Perhaps you can fill me in on what happened, Sir Rodney?” Obviously he would ask the one person in the group with whom he was very familiar. The Princess listened quietly, curious as to what was going on. Her ladies in waiting stood a discreet distance away, watching curiously, as were a few others in the castle courtyard.
Brandwyn watched Sir Rodney’s reaction and let him take the lead. She now had a pretty good idea of what had happened and she wanted to speak last. She was debating bringing up Sir Rodney himself on charges of excessive force and defamation of the King’s Rangers, but again she thought it might be wiser to pacify him and try to keep him as her ally. She looked at him now and gave him an encouraging smile, wanting to hear his full version of the incident.
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Post by Brandwyn on Nov 18, 2010 15:32:11 GMT -5
(OOC: Ashton Thornbury and his father and company)
Ash rode Raven right up to the door of his father’s merchant booth despite the protests of several fair goers. Horses were supposed to be checked at the gates and only those on official business were allowed to patrol the grounds on horseback, which namely meant rangers, scouts and the guard. Ash was none of those and yet it must have been the look on his face at the gate because the guards there did not say anything to him about leaving his horse and he didn’t stop other than to pay his two coppers and get his token.
He dismounted and left the reins draped over the saddle horn, unconcerned that anyone would get close enough to Raven to touch him. The horse was half wild and merely tolerated Ash. To most humans the horse behaved as if possessed by demons. Raven was no longer the emaciated wretched, ill-tempered beast he had been back in the spring when Ash had bought him. The black horse had filled out, though he was still lean, to a healthy weight with a bluish glow to his black coat. He moved swiftly and gracefully now under Ash’s gentle hands, but he was still ill-tempered and often tried to sneak in a kick or a nip on Ash just out of spite to let Ash know they weren’t friends. That suited Ash fine. They were the perfect match for each other with matching temperaments for the most part.
Ash stepped into his father’s merchant tent and deliberately stepped behind a stand of armor so the person minding the tent could not see him. Glancing into the gauntlet on the left hand of the display, Ash saw the promised scrap of parchment rolled up and tucked into the cuff. Ash carefully pulled it out with two fingers and shoved the parchment up his sleeve and down into his own glove where it was concealed. He leaned forward, as if inspecting the armor and glanced at the attendant out of the corner of his eye. His heart leaped and then crashed in dismay.
His sister Anyia was behind the table haggling with another customer. She saw him and her eyes grew round in surprise. She was about to say hello when Ash put a long, thin finger to his lips and shook his head. Anya gave a barely perceptible nod and then continued with the customer. Meanwhile Ash poked around the tent as if shopping. He was, in fact, assessing every bit of merchandise on display. The more he knew about his father’s business the better.
He discretely pulled out the parchment and unrolled it and scanned the contents.
Arielle in Norgate, Anyia kept close to Duke at all times. The meeting is Winter Solstice at Revel in Norgate, Thornbury’s booth. Players: Thornbury, Arendel, Gholston and three unidentified. Get out now! C
He shoved the scrap back into his glove and continued his study of his surroundings, musing over the note from his childhood friend, Cyrus. He debated on following the three words of advice, but he wouldn’t find out anything if he played it safe.
The tent housed a rather large arsenal of weapons and armor and other accruements for fighting or life on the road. Slowly he made his way around the tent until he could peek through the flap behind the counter into the private quarters of the living area beyond. He caught a glimpse of part of his father’s hated face and Ash sucked in his breath, the old anger over his mother’s murder boiling to the surface.
He listened for a moment, and although he could hear the voices of two other men in the tent besides his father, he could not make out what they were saying. He moved slightly and saw a body guard standing well-behind his father at the wall of the tent. The man was very large and carried a huge bastard sword. Ash shook his head, half amused. He wondered how the brute thought he would wield such a weapon in such tight quarters.
The customer with Anyia finally settled and left the tent and Ash stepped up to the counter and smiled at her. He gave her a warning look not to speak and then a big hug. “Stick close to Arielle if you can. I am working on a rescue.” He breathed in her ear. She nodded to him and then handed him a tiny little satin pouch embroidered with a turtledove. The pouch was very light and seemed to be empty, but Ash pocketed it anyway as his sister mouthed the words, ‘from Arielle’.
He moved to step into the tent butted up to the merchant tent but Anyia laid a hand on his arm to stop him. “Trap!” She breathed and Ash nodded. He knew his father was setting him a trap, but he also knew his father thought him a weak man of the cloth and would underestimate his abilities. Ash was counting on that. He had back-up of a sort. If he didn’t show up at the rendezvous by the appointed time, his Brethren would attempt a rescue. He patted her hand, removed it from his arm and gave it a squeeze. “I love you, Sis! Tell Arielle to have courage. It will be over soon.” he whispered and then stepped through the tent flap to face his father.
Count Arthur Thornbury the third didn’t skip a syllable as he slowly turned his head toward his estranged son, “Welcome, Little Maggot.” Ash’s face didn’t betray his ire at the old derogatory nickname from his childhood. “I must say I thought it was your whore of a mother stepping in here at first. I should give you her old garments. I am sure you would be right at home in them and those sick, sexually twisted ‘brothers’ of yours would find you even more attractive than they do now.” Ash’s father sneered as he locked eyes with his wayward son. The other two occupants at his father’s table chuckled. Ash glanced at them and saw his brother –in-law, the 79 year old Duke Avignoned of Arendel shift his fat bulk as he turned to look behind him at Ash. They locked eyes for a moment and the Duke smirked and then his eyes roved back to Count Thornbury.
“Your sister Arielle is a fine brood mare, Brother.” Avignoned winked at Thornbury but was speaking to Ash. “Besides nearly giving me a heart attack with her wild and wanton acts of perversion, she has just a couple of weeks ago given me not just one son, but two!” He looked back to see the affect of his words on Ashton. “It seems she is the epitome of your mother and just as lusty from what I understand.”
That was news Ash had not learned as of yet. So Arielle had given birth to twins, heirs to the vast Arendel fortune and just what Ash had been waiting for to execute the last part of his plans concerning the villainous Duke. He was not quite done taunting Ash however. “As soon as she has recovered, say in a week or so, I shall be riding her again. She is quite amazing and so young and pert.” He licked his lips. “They say it is quite easy to get them with child right after they have given birth and I aim to keep her bred for the rest of her life.” He looked back to Ash with a challenge in his eye.
The only sign of anger and loathing Ash allowed to show was a minor twitch in his jaw as he bit back a scathing retort. He was not here to spar with his unwanted brother-in-law. His resolve to act soon was heightened by the knowledge of his sister’s plight. He wondered how she ever endured the pig’s attentions. Of course she didn’t have any choice but to endure it. Ash desperately wanted to see his sister, but he knew that would not be possible until the night of her rescue. He could not even send her a message other than the few whispered words to Anyia out front.
The bodyguard behind Count Thornbury shoved his elbow into the tent wall and Ash heard the muffled thud as it contacted someone outside the tent. ‘So, they will have the tent entrance covered.’ Ash thought and looked around the square tent for options when it came time to retreat.
“Congratulations, Brother,” Ash said so softly the Duke leaned to his left in order to hear him better. “Please give my sister my warmest regards.” He gave a slight bow and his hand slipped to the hilt of his sword. He wrestled with the idea of slitting the man’s throat right there, but decided the formulation of a more fail proof plan would be a better way to go. The Duke would be dead quite soon anyway.
“So, Father, I hear you gave quite a hefty donation to the Araluen Hospital earlier this year.” It was now Ash’s turn to drive in a barb of his own. He had engineered the ‘disposal’ of several bricks of gold illegally marked with the Araluen royal seal to be rerouted from one of his father’s business partners to the Araluen hospital as a donation. The ruse had cost his father a fortune as well as a brief stint in the King’s dungeon. Unfortunately with some fast talking and greasing a few corrupt palms, Thornbury was absolved of any involvement with the disappearance of King Duncan early this year.
Count Thornbury’s eyes abruptly shifted back to Ash’s face. “Damn! That was you? How dare you?” He started to rise in his chair and draw his sword. Avignoned stopped him, however. “His time will come very soon, Arty. Stay your hand for now. He will not be walking away from here today. I for one am interested in making him squeal like a pig and writhe like the maggot he is.” Avignoned grinned wickedly as Ash while his father glared, but regained his seat.
Ash stepped aside from the tent opening as he heard someone enter the merchant tent behind him. In a swift movement he drew his sword and sliced the throat of the body guard. Before his father knew what was going on, Ash’s sword point was pressing into his father’s neck and the bodyguard crumpled to the floor, blood welling up from his lips, his eyes unseeing. The Duke and the third member of their gang, a man Ash did not yet know, sat calmly before him, seemingly unconcerned. “I am not quite done yet, Father.” Ash risked a glance at the tent door, seeing two men just outside. “I wouldn’t want you to leave here not knowing that I engineered all your trouble with The Grizzlies and that little obstacle you had with the Merchant Guild.” Ash chuckled as his father’s anger grew. “Tell me, how did that last shipment of illegal weapons from Gallica fare? I thought I saw some with your mark on them being given to a Skandian raiding ship some months back.”
“You little son of a-“ Arthur Thornbury swore, but the Duke cut him off again.
“There, there, Arty, it is only money. There is plenty of that to be had.” Avignoned studied Ash thoughtfully. The boy seemed to be a lot more shrewd than his father, perhaps he could be useful. He certainly seemed to have inherited his father’s cruel streak and brilliant strategy as well as his knack for subterfuge. Somewhere along the line he seemed to have picked up at least some skill with a blade as well. ‘Pity that he is insane.’ The Duke concluded and dismissed the idea as hopeless.
Ash moved away from the door, stepping over the body of the body guard, careful to avoid the pool of blood while maintaining the point of his sword on his father’s throat. He moved toward the third man who had not spoken a word and looked him over briefly as the two brutes in his father’s employ entered the tent and split up, trying to trap him between them. The unidentified man was wearing armor and a tunic of gold with a two headed black eagle with its wings raised up toward his shoulders. Ash was not familiar with the device, although he had seen it often mixed in with his father’s merchandise. The only thing he knew was that it was Gallican and it seemed that the two men in the tent had been deferring authority to this silent man when Ash had first entered.
Having gathered as much information as he was likely to get, Ash kicked out with his foot and toppled his father over backwards. The two bodyguards leapt forward, but Ash was too fast. He shouldered the center tent pole with all of his might and the bottom slid toward the merchant tent out front. The whole tent began to collapse on top of them all.
Ash turned to cut a slice out the back and ran right into the quiet man’s sword. It bit deep across his stomach, slicing through the chain mail under his garment and into his soft flesh. Ash hissed and arrested the slice with his own sword as he twisted around to the left, his blade held perpendicular to the ground, slid along the length of his opponent’s blade preventing it from cutting into him any deeper.
Ash elbowed the man in the face as he completed his spin and ducked under the descending canvas. He sliced open the back wall of the tent and whistled as he stumbled out, right into the startled arms of another guard. Ash brought his sword straight up and the pommel plunged into the man’s chin, knocking him off balance and snapping his head back.
He felt the bite of steel just above his kidney as another strike from the man in gold landed on him. Turning again toward the man, he managed to block another blow. It was followed incredibly fast by another slice at his leg which Ash barely blocked. Ash backed up several steps, trying to regain his composure as he realized he was facing a master swordsman and he was dismally outclassed. The man didn’t give him any respite however and Ash took two more slices to his left arm and torso. His confidence was dropping and he began to wonder if he was going to be able to get away.
Out of the corner of his eye, Ash saw two more men sporting gold tunics with a black eagle rushing toward him, swords drawn. Ash’s hopes died. He was desperately trying to defend himself, barely blocking the rain of blows from the man in front of him. He whistled again and heard a scream of rage just behind him as Raven charged, leaping over a stack of firewood to kick at the two knights rushing him. The black horse wheeled and lunged at the man battling Ash, plunging between them. Ash grabbed Raven’s saddle and pulled himself up as he ordered the horse to run. He barreled toward the gates, knocking down anyone that got in his way. Once out of the gates he let Raven have his head and the horse sped away from the faire as if his hooves had wings and soon it was out of sight. At a specific place on the road, Ash turned him and then plunged into the stream that ran along the road. The woods closed in on him and the stream forked several times and Ash kept Raven running at a mile eating gait in the water until he was deep into the forest and his head was swimming from the loss of blood. He slowed to a stop and toppled from his horse into the water. He pulled himself to the bank and lay down for a bit resting as Raven, his sides heaving, stood over him with his head lowered. Ash hoped they had lost any pursuit for he could go no further this night. He was not far from the rendezvous with is Brethren, but he did not think he would make it.
After a few moments he crawled to Raven’s side and pulled himself to his knees by the stirrup. Slowly he got to his feet, his head swimming. He pulled out a strip of cloth from his saddle bag and wrapped it around his stomach and tied it off tight, slowing the blood flow a little. Then he pulled himself up onto his horse again and turned him away from the stream and onto the pine needle covered forest floor. He only had to hang on as long as the clearing. His brothers would tend him if he could make it that far.
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Post by Ringulf on Nov 18, 2010 16:58:26 GMT -5
(OCC: Baron Rathbone, Count Thornbury [NPC] and Duke Avingnon [NPC])
The Barron stood outside the collapsing tent watching Ash ride off on his nightmare black horse. He raised an eyebrow before turning, "Curious." He said then he looked around to see his knights getting up after being thrashed with flying hooves.
Count Thornbury struggled out from under the tent and made his way to the Barrons shoulder. The ponderous old Duke needed two guards to help him out of the tent and to his feet and was still struggling as the Count said to the Barron,
"Where is he, where is my son did you kill the little rat dropping?"
"No Thornbury I did not! As a matter of fact he was in no danger of me doing so. I did get to ascertain his skill with a blade and drive him off before he did something unpleasant to the two of you!" He looked back over his shoulder at his red faced accomplice and the fat Duke who had just then gotten back on his feet and was straightening his clothing.
"Thornbury I have just about had enough of your incompitance, I should have let him kill you both! Mark my words that young man will kill you, one day very soon of that I am certain, weather he is quick enough to beat the reaper to our illustrious Duke Avignoned I am not as convinced. Though if he keeps up his luscivious practices and his gluttony, I doubt young Ash will need to lift a finger."
The Count started to hottly protest and the Barron cut him off mid sentence,
"Oh do shut up Arthur and find a seat for the Duke before he soils himself." The Barron said thrusting his sword back into his scabbard and starting to leave.
Just then he looked down to see a small role of parchment at his feet. He picked it up and read it, then he roled it up and tucked it into his own gauntlet.
"Ah even more curious, I know this writing quite well, heh heh heh!" He chuckled softly leaving with his Knights at his heels.
"Oh Thornbury!" He called back, "Have Cyrus bring those papers you wanted signed to my pavillion, make sure he is alone I may be entertaining!"
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Post by Ringulf on Nov 18, 2010 17:36:42 GMT -5
(OOG Aribjorn, Brandwyn, Mylia and a cast of thousands)
“Very well, I will hear the others first then.” The Magistrate said. “Perhaps you can fill me in on what happened, Sir Rodney?” Obviously he would ask the one person in the group with whom he was very familiar. The Princess listened quietly, curious as to what was going on.
Sir Rodney stood before the magistrate and the Princess as well as Brandwyn, and it seemed to him as if all three turned their heads simultaneously toward him expecting a full explanation of the event.
He was a bit confused at the change in demeanor of the young Scout and was not sure if he had heard her correctly, nor why she had brought the hag from the clothier's booth.
"Hoom, hoom, ah Well Your Highness, Magistrate..." He began clearing his throat and alluded a bow toward them each in turn,
"I was alerted to a disturbance while moving through the food court, I summoned these two guards who were both just ending their mealtime break and we proceeded to find this young man, a squire to "Sir Ecosse" no less, on top of the citizen after knocking him to the ground and severely throttling him. In fact he was threatening the man as I approached, His fist was raised for another strike and he was saying he should "Leave him for his friend", obviously some other ruffian who could do the job with even greater brutality!" "Upon questioning his excuses and foreign mutterings, though difficult to make out, did not corroborate the story of the witnesses and his attitude toward me and these guardsmen made me feel it was wise to bring him to the dungeon so we could ascertain the truth in the matter. On the way he suddenly had some sort of fit or convulsion and in thrashing about with my guardsman trying to aid him, he was injured." This young Lady, Scout Brandwyn, whom I believe you are already acquainted, and I, felt we needed to bring him before the magistrate as soon as practicable. And well here he is."
He motioned toward Aribjorn who was still held by both guards and had his head lowered in the presence of the princess.
Aribjorn said nothing, he tried to stand up strait still a little dizzy and unsteady from the head injury he had sustained and clasped his hand to the other wrist as if he were chained and awaiting punishment..
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Post by Ringulf on Nov 24, 2010 23:58:31 GMT -5
(OOC: Tandar, Tory and Ringulf)
The woman moaned and tried to move, but Tandar held her in place. “Remain still,” he said gently. He wanted to sound reassuring, but it was hard since he was scared himself. Fluid trickled out around the point of entry, and her blood was on his hands.
Tory and Tandar both looked at each other grimly as the woman moaned in pain.
Just then a shadow fell across the three of them and as they looked up they saw a large man on a horse silhouetted buy the sun.
He swung down and they realized it was a ranger by the cloak he was wearing though the hood was up around the man's head and they could not see who it was. The size and dark reddish brown beard that poked out of the hood started to look familiar to them both.
"Tandor, Tory, what happened here? Did you remove the arrow smoothly? This is odd..."
He looked up at them and the clear shinning blue eyes were unmistakable, Ringulf kneeled before them! He started to help the pair with the woman.
"Shshsh!" Ringulf said a finger to his lips, "I am Ursan Holtdrenger here from Marshwood to shoot in the tournament, do you understand?
"Rangers...we can not move this woman, not until we deliver her child..."
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Post by Brandwyn on Nov 25, 2010 21:10:34 GMT -5
(OOC: Cyrus [NPC] and Baron Rathbone)
Cyrus approached the tent of Baron Radnat with some trepidation. The man made him a bit nervous, but then most of his master's aquaintances and business partners made him nervous. He wished that he could leave the employ of Count Thornbury, but he was not at liberty to do so, his family being indentured servants now of the Thornbury estate for several generations. He was close to paying off the debt his great, great Grandfather had acrued, but he had a feeling the Count wasn't going to let him leave even if he did manage to earn the last hundred gold pieces. What he needed was a few more deals like the last one Ash had thrown his way.
Cyrus stepped up to the pavilion and straightened his tunic, then nodded to the knight standing guard. After a moment he was told to enter and Cyrus stepped into the tent and presented the papers Thornbury needed to have signed. He took a quick glance at the bed, mostly because Thornbury had told him not to and he was curious as to why. He quickly averted his eyes, cleared his throat and said, "Your Excellency, here are the papers for Count Thornbury."
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Post by Brandwyn on Nov 25, 2010 21:49:20 GMT -5
(OOC: Brandwyn, Mylia, Aribjorn)
Brandwyn had to work hard to keep from snorting with derision at Sir Rodney's account of the incident, especially the part where Aribjorn supposedly injured himself. But she managed to hold her tongue and keep an inquisitive look on her face.
She directed the attention of the magistrate to the merchant woman. "This is the woman who claims that the young man stole a cloak from her shop." Brandwyn said. "I thought you might want to hear from her directly."
The Magistrate nodded and asked her to give her story.
"Well, Your Honor," the woman said nervously wringing her skirt with her hands. "I was minding my shop when this young man ran past chasing a big fellow and grabbed one of my cloaks on display." she looked a bit nervous at Aribjorn and then at the Princess and swallowed. "He - uh - he mumbled something and then he took off." She pointed to Sir Rodney, "I yelled after him and this handsome, galleant knight came to my aid and went after the rouge. I followed along and then this woman brought me here."
She eyed Brandwyn warily who was watching her like a barn cat watched the mice that were just out of range of her claws, waiting for them to make a mistake and come close enough to sink a claw into.
The Magistrate nodded, thinking this was a pretty cut and dry case against the Skandian, afterall, they were known for their raiding and piracy.
"You, Young man, what is your name and do you have anything to say for yourself?"
"A moment first, if you please, Your Honor." Brandwyn interupted before Aribjorn could answer. "I may be of some help." She glanced at Sir Rodney and then continued. "This young man is aquainted with Ranger Tandar Polaris and he came upon Tandar and myself as we were trying to bring order to a minor scuffle in one of the beer merchant's tents.
I subdued one of the men but the other took off. Ranger Tandar and this young man, Aribjorn Haakonson took off after the big man who had assaulted Tandar right before he fled. I had to stay with the other guy until the guard arrived, but when I caught up with Aribjorn he was being detained by Sir Rodney.
I heard Aribjorn say that he had paid a silver piece to borrow the cloak. I checked the woman's pouch and found this Skandian silver coin in it." Brandwyn considered adding her own theory as to what happened but decided against it. She would appear more professional if she just stuck to the facts as she knew them.
The magistrate looked at her thoughtfully and then turned to Aribjorn. "All right, young man, if you can talk, I would like to hear your version of what happened."
Brandwyn glanced back down the hill toward the fair that could be seen through the open castle gate and saw a knight approaching. She thought she could make out Tam with the man, but she wasn't sure.
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Post by Ringulf on Nov 26, 2010 15:37:19 GMT -5
(OOC: Cyrus [NPC] and Baron Rathbone)
The Barron sat at a small campaign desk within his large pavilion, his large frame seemed to dwarf it along with the folding canvas chair he sat on.
When Cyrus came in with the documents he was pouring over other correspondence and did not look up but indicated that Cyrus should put them on the other table with a small pile of other papers.
"When you are finished Cyrus do sit down over in this chair I would speak to you for a moment, if you would."
He continued to read for several minutes then looked up and turned his chair to face the nervous servant.
"Cyrus, I have known you for several years now, how long have you been with the count, quite a long time I imagine, Hmmm? I have always admired how efficiently you have served your master and how diligent you have been especially when it comes to your handling of his documents. I did however find one that seems to have escaped your normally conscientious attention. I noticed and recognized the handwriting right away. It seems to have slipped from the grasp of Count Thornbury's Son, Ash, as he left rather abruptly. Please don't deny your involvement, things have progressed far beyond that point now, But I wish to know more about this Ash and your relationship with him, you see I may be able to help our young friend and he may be able to help me as well."
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Post by Ringulf on Nov 26, 2010 16:14:01 GMT -5
(OOC: Aribjorn, Brandwyn, Mylia and company)
"Majestrate, Your Highness, I am ashamed to come before you in dis vay, I am new in dis country ant am not completely familiar wit your customs, but I realise dat is no excuse for I was fully responsible for my actions. I interupted Ranger Tandor and Scout Brandwyn in de middle of der vork ant I am afrait dat de man dat Tandar vas questioning decided to strike him ant run avay I vanted to help Tandar since he is my freint ant I felt responsible for distracting him, so I vent vone vay ant he vent de odder tp chase de big man trough de crowds. Ven I got to de crossroad dat I vas sure de man would come out of I tried to disguise myself to lure him in close enough to detain, so I trew de voman a silver peice and it is as Lady Brandwyn said I tink it was one of my Skandian coins der should be a rune on de back dat shows it vas minted in Bjornholt ant it should be a hammer ant gauntlet next to it. I den subdued de man ant was waiting for Tandar to come arrest him but he never came. De rest is just as Sir Rodney has said." He had averted his eyes and tried to keep the princess from seeing his swollen left eye by keeping his head turned away a bit but at this he looked strait into the eyes of Sir Rodney. "I vas confused and may have struggled a bit, Sir Rodney ant his soldiers did noting wrong dey just did der job."
Rodney cleared his thoat and harumphed a few times and said.
"Well Lad I commend you for your honesty and I hope you are not to much the worse for wear but we had no evidence that you were truly helping these Rangers and such come we will get you cleaned up and get your bruises mended at the chiurgeon and return you to your Knight, Sir Ecosse was it not"
"Yes Rodney He is my squire I am not sure if I have ever gotten ze chance to introduce you, You alright Ari? Your highness are you going to press charges on him? for if so I will stand for him and you may release him to me upon my Honor." Ecosse sounded behind Sir Rodney.
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Post by Brandwyn on Nov 30, 2010 12:52:21 GMT -5
(OOC: Cyrus and Baron Rathbone)
"Cyrus, I have known you for several years now, how long have you been with the count, quite a long time I imagine, Hmmm?...”
Cyrus wasn’t sure if the Baron wanted an answer or not, so he mumbled, “me whole life, Excellency,” in a barely audible low voice.
“I have always admired how efficiently you have served your master and how diligent you have been especially when it comes to your handling of his documents. I did however find one that seems to have escaped your normally conscientious attention.”
Cyrus paled and swallowed rather loudly as his mouth suddenly went dry and his hands started to sweat. He felt that his world, as dismal as it could be, was about to crash down around his ears.
His heart sank even farther as the Baron continued. “I noticed and recognized the handwriting right away. It seems to have slipped from the grasp of Count Thornbury's Son, Ash, as he left rather abruptly. Please don't deny your involvement, things have progressed far beyond that point now, But I wish to know more about this Ash and your relationship with him, you see I may be able to help our young friend and he may be able to help me as well."
How could Ash have been so careless? His childhood friend was meticulous in details. Something must have gone wrong. “Was – Is he?” Cyrus looked at the Baron with concern for his friend, ashamed that he had thought of his own problem before the health of his best friend and benefactor. “He got away from his father then? Intact?” He looked relieved and then apprehensive again. What was the Baron going to do to him? If he told the Count that Cyrus had been feeding information to Ash, they would uncover all the years of his betrayal of his hated master. He would be hung, or worse. He knew it would do no good to argue with the Baron. He had seen too many men die for lying to the man.
He looked fearfully at the Baron as he analyzed the man’s words. He sounded almost as if he was willing to keep Cyrus’s secret; if Cyrus betrayed Ash and told the Baron all about him. He wasn’t sure he could do that. He definitely could not if it was going to lead to Ash’s demise.
On the other hand, Cyrus’s own sense of self-preservation always took precedence over any of his information trafficking. He finally answered the Baron warily, “I wrote the note, telling him of the Count’s meeting. I send him information from time to time, mostly pertaining to his sisters.” He wondered just how little he could get away with telling the Baron, having seen the man’s negotiating skills at work in the past, he decided not to test the Baron’s patience.
“Ash and I were childhood friends. I will not do anything that will cause him harm. He has my loyalty above all others, though his father holds my life as his serf. Ash has been helping me to pay off the family debt so that I may be free of the tyrant.” His voice trembled slightly, but he said the words as boldly as he could. “I would die for him.” He only hoped that it would not be at the end of a rope or by any other equally unpleasant means.
“I know I have betrayed my master, and for that I deserve to die. In my heart, however, my true master has always been Ash and I will never betray him. For that I beg your mercy.” His hands were shaking, he was sweating profusely and he was as pale as a sheet, but there was a determination in his eyes that one could not deny. The look was almost defiant. He waited to hear what his fate would be.
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Post by Ringulf on Nov 30, 2010 13:13:55 GMT -5
I know I have betrayed my master, and for that I deserve to die. In my heart, however, my true master has always been Ash and I will never betray him. For that I beg your mercy.” His hands were shaking, he was sweating profusely and he was as pale as a sheet, but there was a determination in his eyes that one could not deny. The look was almost defiant. He waited to hear what his fate would be.
"Well Cyrus, it is wisely said that a man can not serve two masters, not to mention three, so in order for you to serve me we must remedy your conflictions. How much do you still owe on your bond?"
"If I were to purchase your bond from Thornbury under the pretence... that I need a competent scribe, in return for your promise to aide me in meeting with young ash, would you be interested? Thornbury is beholden to me for saving his life as is his corpulent son-in-law. Surely one way or the other I will not divulge your secret to Thornbury and you will not speak of this meeting to anyone as it will not serve either of us. You also may be assured that I do not wish to harm young Ash and if he is any swordsman he already realizes that the wounds I inflicted on him in our exchange were minor but designed to bleed allot to affectate wounds of a more serious nature. Had I wished to kill him he would even now be dead."
"Think on it and if you feel it worth your while have Ash arrange a meeting through you with me at his earliest convenience." The Barron said in an even businesslike tone one devoid of malice or benevolence.
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Post by Brandwyn on Nov 30, 2010 13:21:55 GMT -5
(OOC: Brandwyn, Aribjorn, Mylia, Ecosse, Tam and company)
The Magistrate listened to all the testimony and the picture gradually became clear. He looked the coin over that the Scout apprentice handed him and nodded at the sign of the rune on the back just as the lad had described it. It seemed there had been no crime here, but there was one person who had caused all the commotion, and possibly, although unknowingly, interfered with a King’s agent. His eyes fell on the old woman who owned the merchant booth.
She trembled and tried to shrink back behind Sir Rodney, knowing she had falsely accused the young man. Brandwyn looked down at her, all pretense of friendship gone from her young face.
“Madam, I believe you owe this young man an apology.” The Magistrate said and gestured to Aribjorn. “Not to mention Sir Rodney, for having lied to him.”
The woman swallowed and turned to Aribjorn, “Please forgive me, young lord, I… must’ve misunderstood you. How was I to know you were going to bring the cloak back? It is worth much more than a silver piece.” She turned to the knight, “Please Sir, don’t punish me. It was an honest mistake. I am sorry.”
Brandwyn muttered under her breath in disgust, “More like worth 2 copper pieces.” She snorted. The woman had caused a great deal of trouble just to be spiteful, but Brandwyn just wanted to get out of her and go find Tandar, so she didn’t press the issue.
The Magistrate glanced at Sir Rodney and Sir Ecosse and then at the young squire. “If that satisfies you gents, then you are all free to go. I suspect there will be much more serious matters to deal with before this faire is over.” He turned to Aribjorn, “I suggest you tread carefully while you are here, Son, there are many who are not overly fond of Skandians and some will even seek you out to give you trouble. I hope that our paths will not cross again under similar circumstances.” He said sternly and then turned back to escort the Princess back into the castle.
Princess Cassandra followed the proceedings with interest. Whatever had possessed the woman to claim the cloak had been stolen? She supposed it must have been greed or perhaps she too shared a dislike for Skandians with those that the magistrate had warned them about. “I see no need to carry this any farther. Each of you try to enjoy the faire. It is supposed to be a time of celebration after the long labors of the year. Please, go indulge yourselves.” She smiled and walked with the Magistrate back toward the castle. Calling back over her shoulder she said, “Don’t forget, Lady Brandwyn, I will expect you at nightfall.”
Brandwyn waved and called back, “Of course, Your Highness! I am looking forward to serving!”
She said to Mylia, “Do you know Ranger Tandar? Perhaps Aribjorn can take you back to where they parted and find out what has happened to him? I sent Ranger Tory to find out because I heard a scream and Tandar cry out. I fear something bad has happened.”
She then turned to the knights. “Please forgive me also.” She said, laying a hand on Sir Rodney’s arm again, ever so gently. “I did not wish to deceive you. I was merely trying to find out the facts without muddying them up with my own involvement. You do understand, I hope?” She batted her eyes at him again. Though she found him distasteful, she still felt that he would be better to have as an ally than an enemy. Somehow, though, she would have to squeak out of having dinner with him as he had been insisting. Right now she just wanted to extricate herself from his notice and run to Tandar’s side. She had the deepest feeling that he needed her right now.
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Post by Firehead on Nov 30, 2010 13:47:49 GMT -5
Mylia stood off to one side and kept her mouth shut, knowing that if she opened it even once in reply to any of Sir Rodney's insults or insinuations, she would wind up losing her temper in a major way. That and she was now recalling what her mentor had told her: to keep herself out of trouble and not to draw too much attention to herself. Well, so much for that.
She sighed and ground her teeth together when Sir Rodney used his suave nature to squeak out of a reprimand. This whole episode was frustrating her to the point of screaming and pulling her hair out. She decided that when this was over with, she'd go find her mentor and see if he had any explanation for all of it.
The hearing ended favorably for all involved, Mylia forced herself to admit, even though it felt like getting a tooth pulled to be fair about anything concerning SIr Rodney. As the crowd broke up, Mylia tried to slip out the doors without calling attention to herself. It felt as though she were slinking away.
Brandwyn caught her as she slid past, saying, “Do you know Ranger Tandar?"
At Mylia's relluctant nod, she went on, "Perhaps Aribjorn can take you back to where they parted and find out what has happened to him? I sent Ranger Tory to find out because I heard a scream and Tandar cry out. I fear something bad has happened.”
Mylia tried to keep the sigh out of her voice as she answered. "Sure." She turned away toward Ari. "Ari, are you up to going to find out what's happened to Tandar?"
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Post by Ringulf on Nov 30, 2010 14:05:03 GMT -5
“Madam, I believe you owe this young man an apology.” The Magistrate said and gestured to Aribjorn. “Not to mention Sir Rodney, for having lied to him.”
The woman swallowed and turned to Aribjorn, “Please forgive me, young lord, I… must’ve misunderstood you. How was I to know you were going to bring the cloak back? It is worth much more than a silver piece.” She turned to the knight, “Please Sir, don’t punish me. It was an honest mistake. I am sorry.”
Aribjorn turned to Sir Rodney in deference to her apology and he nodded to the boy with a gesture to indicate that he should reply.
"You are forgiven mother, ant you may keep de coin to make up for your loss of business due to dis incident. Mint you it is not given to reward your falsehood, but to encourage you to do de right thing next time."
Sir Rodney lifted an eyebrow at the boy, he had not expected that especially from a Skandian.
"Yes Mum you may return to your booth, I do not normally show mercy to liars who lead me to false accusations and embarrassment, but I can not allow a squire to best me as concerns chivalry, so be off with you!"
"If it pleases your highness and Magistrate I will take my leave also, Squire Aribjorn see to your discomforts and look for me at the lists I have squires of my own in the tournament and would like to observe your skill as well." He said gruffly but now with a slight petulance.
"I vill Sir Rodney tank you" said Ari formally and without his characteristic smile.
“Please forgive me also.” Brandwyn said, laying a hand on Sir Rodney’s arm again, ever so gently. “I did not wish to deceive you. I was merely trying to find out the facts without muddying them up with my own involvement. You do understand, I hope?” She batted her eyes at him again. Though she found him distasteful, she still felt that he would be better to have as an ally than an enemy.
"Certainly Lady Brandwyn and I do hope you will consider dining with me after your duties, I would feel that this whole incident would have been worthwhile if only to have had the chance to know you better." He said with a bow and gave her a courtly kiss of the hand. Then he strode off.
Ari looked at Brandwyn.
"By de vay I am not sure if you knew it but ve haff drawn each udder for de first rount of de tournement!" He smiled a bit sheepishly and whinced as his battered face crinkled against the swelling, his eye was turning very dark and was almost entirly swollen shut.
"Ant tank my Scout Brantvyn, I would haf been spending de fair in de dungeon if not for you, I am in your debt." he said and bowed.
Mylia tried to keep the sigh out of her voice as she answered. "Sure." She turned away toward Ari. "Ari, are you up to going to find out what's happened to Tandar?"
"Of course Mylia, ant tank you for stanting up for me too! you ver like a Mama Hvit bear defenting a cub! You would haff made me back down for darn sure!" with that he gave her a hug and said.
"Let us go fint Tandar I don't like de fact dat he never made it to de scene I hope noting vent wrong!"
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