Snippet #1388588

"Lord Gideon Ce'dareaux!" The crier bowed and turned all in on movement as Gideon swept into the room his great coppery coat billowing slightly behind him. Two more of the nobility almost seemed to be caught in his wake; Ser Kord Dunnel, a landed knight, and Lord Peotor Sandovak. Both rode under Gideon's command and both accomplished soldiers.

Ser Dunnel had just recently gained his knighthood in service to the crown. Some said it had more to do with his father, a wealthy merchant and friend of the Ce'dareaux family. His pious and humble demeanor make some consider him dull. Lord Sandovak almost matches the Lord Gideon for height, but takes away from the attention garnered by his commander nonetheless.Though the ladies at court call him ravishing, many of the peasantry circulate rumors of his cruel and lustful nature. His long dark hair is thick and full, his pale blue eyes that shine with an ever present ferocity.

Gideon swaggered slightly from the weight of his sword as he navigated through the various gossip nodes, looking for a Captain or even the Lord-General. A few of the more domineering noblewomen were already looking in his direction, nostrils flaring slightly like a wolf smelling blood. He navigated with renewed vigor.

"You know, my lord," Lady Ismanne of Juriden, a southern fief. "My father, Lord Farquad, has often remarked upon your commanding presence, but I had no idea what he had meant until now." She took a dramatic breath, her chest rising and falling heavily.

"Ah, my dear Lady Ismanne. I see the rumors are true.." Gideon looked over her shoulder, he spied Lord-Captain Bernholdt gesticulating and debating with another lord."... your beauty really does rival that of the fabled siren song. Perhaps next time your father can introduce us properly. I shall look forward to it with anticipation."

Before she could respond Gideon strolled passed her and joined Bernholdt's entourage. He saw a few lords he recognized, but most he did not. With his title came an introduction to another level of the game of thrones. He often found himself lacking in common knowledge of his newly acquired peers. Bernholdt turned to look at him, as he laughed at a joke. "Oh! Here he is! The Lance of Valania! Gideon, we were just discussing it and I think that we, as gentry, have the responsibility, nay, the privilege of scouring major roads for bandits and brigands!"

Bernholdt swayed at Gideon expectantly, a overly-filled wineglass in hand. "Well, I believe that it is the duty of any lord with pride to maintain his domain." It grew quiet. Gideon slowly realized that may have just said something wrong. It was better to be seen in control. He could not afford to look a fool. "Of course, I believe in my right set any tariff I wish on trade goods brought through my land, as well."