Roland Windsor's Story

Day 1, Morning

The Prince tower was a desolate place, impregnated with the despair of the various brother of the king as they were unjustly imprisoned on ground of being a threat to their much older brother's throne. The cells containing the prince were well furnished in earthly pleasures and golden surface but were inadequate to dampen the sweet call of freedom. That freedom laid beyond the window of each cell, calling the occupants with it's sweet call every day and whispering promise of grandeur every night. It was on the dawn of such a day that everything changed for those poor princes.

The first ray of dawn peeked through the sole narrow window in Roland's golden cell when he was awakened by guards. Those guard approached the barred door and unlocked it, swiftly entering only to bow deeply to the young man.

“First Prince Roland, we are honoured to announce your royal self that you are free of this cell. Your brother the King is dead by the end of the filthy Goulashians, leaving the throne empty. We beseech you to fill it once more with your glorious self but urge you to be careful of your brothers as they hold similar ambitions for the throne. The path will be arduous until your crowning, as we need one hundred days to prepare for this glorious day. Please accept this circlet as a proof of your royal lineage.”

As the first guard said this last sentence, another presented the prince with an elegant circlet carved by the Windsor's Family Crest. It was truly a masterful piece of jewelry. As the young man examined his new circlet, the first guard continued his speech.

“Please also accept this hooded cloak until you are properly announced in two days. You have access to the entirety of the castle but we urge you to stay withing it's borders until then, unless you wear that cloak. I also suggest that you visit the library to aquaint yourself with the going on of the world.”

As the prince was presented with an heavy cloak, the guard intoned something the prince have always dreamed of hearing.

“What do you want to do this morning, your Highness?”

This bed, it's so cold. The numbness filled his body like some sort of disease, so long had he lived in this prison cell. His bed was large and full of expensive textiles, his walls plated with gold, luxury everywhere he looked. But it was still a prison. This bed, it's... He lay there, staring at the barred window, the first rays of light began to pierce through the window and into his cell. Then he heard footsteps, strange, who would visit him? He was well supplied with food, so who would venture into the tower to meet with him? He sat himself up on the bed and gazed at the cell door. He watched as the guards entered, showing their respects by bowing before him, he simply stared at them with a bored look on his face.

you are free of this cell

Your brother the King is dead

His eyes widened. He was free at last, and his bastard brother was dead. But, something flashed into his mind, What of the kingdom? Who shall become the next king? It was true that Roland had other siblings, would they race against him for the throne? Nay, he could not allow it, among all of them he was most fit for kingship, he would not allow anyone else to keep him from the throne. It was his, and his alone. It felt all so surreal, he took the circlet and donned it with pride. He then took the cloak and draped it over his back, he didn't plan on leaving to enter the city just yet, he needed to refresh his memory of the Goulashians, and more specifically how politics in Alder worked. A wide smile appeared on his face. "Surely we must have a library in the palace, take me there." He would learn of the Goulash kingdom. It has been so long since he was free, he had completely forgotten how politics, religion and the military worked in Alder. Was there a councill? Would they be a threat? Who were the nobles and which internal factions had influence in Alder? He would attempt to learn all of it, afterall he couldn't bask in his newfound freedom and expect to claim the throne, no, his days from now on would be even more taxing. He would take note not to push himself for at least the first few days, living in the cell had made him weak, he would most definatly need more rest than usual.

>Go to the royal library, if there is no royal library then wear the cloak and visit a public one. Learn about the Goulash kingdom, Alder nobles and influencial factions, political systems etc.

Day 1, Midday

At the prince's words, all the guards currently at his cell door saluted, their back straight and gauntlet-clad right hands saluting their prince. Taking formation around the prince, they led him through various corridor and even more numerous stairs to finally arrive before two heavily carved oak door plated with gold leafs.

“We are here, your Highness. The Royal Library, the most extensive collection of tomes in the kingdom.” Said the same guard who spoke earlier, bowing as four other guards opened the heavy door leading inside.

The room was truly majestic, with seven floors worth of shelves all in a circle following the Library's tower's inner walls. Each floor was accessed by ladders and navigated through walkways giving to the area bellow, the later filled with imposing desks and comfortable looking chairs. There must have been thousands of tomes in here!

A few librarians were busy classifying and providing tomes to and fro the bookshelves and the various official using the great hall of knowledge, not putting much mind to what happened around them in their flurry of tasks. Hailing one of the librarians, the guard swiftly explained his charge identity and the reason why he was here. Roland was swiftly sat in the most impressive desk of the great room and provided by various tomes relevant to his interests.

During his sojourn in the library, the prince learned that the Goulash Kingdom was situated to the norther border of the Alder Kingdom and was specializing in both agriculture and weapon manufacturing, possible by the extremely fertile soils under it's foundations. The kingdom also boasted a strong infantry and cavalry, a problem to the naval oriented Alder Kingdom. The current king was the old King Wilhelm V, a ruthlessly brilliant tactician in time of war and a strict monarch in time of peace. The king had 13 children, including ten potential heirs to his throne. One of the king's daughter was unmarried and about 15 years of age.

Alder Kingdom, for it's part, boasted a thriving naval trade as well as a fearsome fleet. The country's aristocracy was divided in three. The first faction was the Merchants, who boasted an incredible wealth born from trading and a strong knowledge of the land. They were in charge of trade and the financial well being of the Alder Kingdom.

The second faction were the Aristocrats, who, also quite wealthy, were less so than the Merchants though they were usually the ones that changed the world around them with their rhetoric and visions for the future. They were in charge of politics in and out of the kingdom.

The last faction were the Warriors, whose wealth was gained by pillaging their enemies' home and by various rewards given by the king in recognition of their martial prowess in time of peace. They were extremely skilled combatants that were in charge of the security of the kingdom.

That knowledge was what Roland managed to retain as he felt fatigued.

His Knowledge increased by 2.

Roland would be lead through the winding corridors and passages. He would walk grand stair cases and pass through decorated door ways, it took longer than expected, but since this was his first taste of new scenery in a long time he didn't mind. Such a vast collection of knowledge excited him, he knew very well he would spend much of his time in this library, as an old saying goes, knowledge is power. While he didn't learn all that much, it would be enough to plan his next moves. The merchants would be a good ally, money is the blood of an empire, and any good ruler must know how to manage it. Perhaps Roland would hire one of the merchants to teach him the ways of trade, perhaps he could even arrange some trade routes with far off kingdoms. The warriors didn't interest him, they were simply soldiers afterall. The aristocrats would also make for lucrative allies, maybe he could marry into one of their families, or perhaps arrange a deal to gather their support.

He took care not to think ahead too much, he was still fatigued and he could feel it more now than ever. He figured after several hours of reading he deserved a break. Roland would call for one of the guards, he would order the guard to tell the palace chef to prepare lunch, he was feeling quite famished at the moment. Over the next few hours he would do something he hadn't done in weeks, write poetry. It was an unconventional skill, yes, but it is undervalued by most royalty. What can sway the hearts of maidens more than sublime poetry? It was an indirect means of gaining control, to make the daughter of a wealthy man fall in love with you, or the daughter of a shrewd politician, maybe even the daughter of another king entirely. Plus it would be much less taxing on his body.

Day 1, Evening

After an excellent meal in his new quarters, Roland passed a leisurely afternoon of poetry and naps, words flowing elegantly on the expensive vellum he was provided with along with an elegant eagle quill. That pretty poetry would not impress an hardened matron, but would sway the earth of any doe-eyed maiden of the kingdom.

With the time he allowed for this hobby, Roland thought about his future some more, alone once more but now free, he could permit himself such luxury of thought. As he fell asleep once more, hours passed.

Being awakened gently by a personal attendant was a new experience for the prince who was not used for company of any kind after passing his life until then imprisoned. The prince was presented with another meal in his luxurious bed and was led to the changing room to change from his sleeping clothes and into his everyday clothes.

“Your Highness, What would you like to do this evening?” Roland's new servant said as she finished adjusting the last of his garments.

Roland was no longer Fatigued.

Roland was feeling Suave.

Roland was feeling quite elegant now, he would save the better pages of his poetry to read to future maidens, as for now he would take care not to squander his elegance. Roland eyed the female servant, he hadn't had contact with any woman in years, but now the situation was almost too perfect. He rubbed the back of his head, what was he thinking? He couldn't bed this woman, she was of the common class, besides he had more important things to do. Using the the time he had left in the day he would inquire the royal advisor as to who the most influencial female aristocrat was, with his golden poetry he would trap her into falling in love with him, and once she was in love he could entangle her, eventually making a love maddened slave out of her. Perhaps that plan wasn't very virtuous, but one must bloody their hands if they wish to achieve a greater good.

If the royal advisor failed to give the required information he would simply ask the librarians or the royal treasurer. This task would only take maybe an hour or two at the most, hopefully he would have some free time afterwards. With any extra time he had Roland would practice reciting his poetry in his private quarters. Writing good poetry and reciting it well are two entirely different things, and lacking in either categories can lead to an underwhelming effect. Roland knows this well as one of his brothers was a masterful poet. Another factor in swaying the heart of a maiden is to match the poetry with their apperance and personality, Roland didn't know a thing about his target so he would have to come up with the poetry on the spot.

He would have to focus on her appearance and make her feel like a goddess of beauty. Roland would write down dozens of possible features of her appearance, from hair colors and lengths, to eye colors, cheekbones, curves, lips, and the like. He would then practice improvising poetry by randomly choosing different features. One trick he found was useful was comparing features to landscapes and luxurious items, (skin as fair as a winters eve, hair as soft as the finest velvets.) After what seemed like an eternity he finished, though he wasn't completely satisfied. He felt a little unsettled, thomorrow would be a long day...

With that he would lie down onto his large comfortable bed and sleep away the deep of the night.

Day 1, Night

Roland's attendant had a sly smirk on his face as he listened to the prince request, no doubt seeing right through the prince's motives. The man was old enough to be a grandfather, after all, and surely had seen more than his fair share of maiden in his time.

“Well, My Lord, I would have to say that the most wealthy young maiden in the land is young Lady Meredith Grey, second daughter to the Duke of Ash. She is a lovely young lady of seventeen years of age that have many suitors for her hand. You, of course, are at an entirely different level than those lads and should not have any difficulty in currying her favour. Should I arrange a chaperoned meeting?” The greying man asked deferentially to his prince. It was custom to always be polite to royalty, after all.

After arranging a meeting in two days, the men bid themselves goodbye and Roland once more practised his poetry. After a quick trip to the library that had him see the portrait of the lady in question, Roland practised and practised, calling her hair like rivers of gold and her eyes like peridot, the young man was on a roll.

Roland's Suaveness lengthened to three additional units of time.

Two days...Two was quite a wait, but he could understand the reasoning behind it, one could not simply demand a meeting with a noble. Besides, it would give him time to prepare what exactly he was going to tell them. He wasn't too fond of marrying so quickly, idealistically he would trick Meredith into falling for him, and then lead her along until her usefulness ran out. It was cruel, but beneficial, and in the end the kingdom would benefit as a whole if he became the king. He recieved word that his half-brother Aleph had left the castle to do...Something. Ah, Aleph, it had been so long since he heard that name, hell it had been long since he heard anybodies name. He was a good man the last time he remembered him, a warrior through and through, but he was no king.

He was no more a king than Roland was a general. If at all possible Roland would prefer that Aleph was the general of the military, he was certainly more cut out for it than Roland was. He sighed to himself, so much planning yet so little time, it was easy to assume that Aleph would race against him for the throne, who in their right minds would simply give it up? Every second he wasted was another chance for Aleph to get ahead of him, he couldn't allow that. Despite the threat Aleph provided, Roland didn't even think of killing him, the very idea was ludicrous. If Aleph became a true threat Roland would destroy his credibility by framing him for something, perhaps making it appear as though he was in leauge with the Goulashians, he certainly had ability to do such a thing.

Roland felt that it would be best to sleep away the rest of the night, it was his first day being free, he didn't want to exhaust himself just yet. Thomorrow he planned to to take some dancing lessons, perhaps learn more about his future kingdom. He also desired to take some fencing lessons, swordplay wasn't exactly his forte, but any true king should know how to handle a sword. But as for now, he would simply go to bed...

Day 2, Morning

All that thinking did some good for Roland, as it structured his mind a little more and game him the wisdom to not do anything recklessly. That night he slept the slumber of the Just, dreaming of smiling maiden and of what his kingdom will one day look like if he should successfully gain the throne. Those dreams were colourful and full of joy, letting him with a sense of peace when he woke, the dream but a distant memory in the world of the awakened.

He was once more awakened slowly by his attendant and dressed, the same maid as the day before smiling at him as she brought him his breakfast on the small table in his room. The day was sunny and bright, as befitting a day of late July. A good day for some outdoor training. As Roland ate leisurely, his attendant approached him once more.

"Your schedule is free today, Your Highness, though I must warn you that in two days an announcement will be made to present you and your brother's to the kingdom. A tailor will be taking your measurement tonight. What would you like to do today?" The old man asked as the prince took one last bite of his decadent breakfast.

Roland's Wisdom increased by 1

Roland feels Peaceful today.

What a wonderful dream it was, he saw villages living peacefully under a bright sky full of white puffy clouds, the cities were teeming with acitvity, the Goulashians were decimated and trade was prosperous. Roland was parading through Cedar, the citizens cheering and clapping at the presence of their king. He awoke with peerless confidence, he was at ease and his mind was level and sharpened, he could not fail today. The breakfast was delicious as always, and tasted incredibly vibrant because of his pleasant mood. Roland thought for a moment, there was two things he wanted to do today, first he wanted to get some sword training in, and then some dancing lessons. If he had any left over time he would learn more about the Alder kingdom.

Roland stroked his chin slowly, finally deciding after a few moments, "I would like to get some training in, do we have a training yard in the castle? If not then the courtyard shall do, find me a skilled swordsman to aid in my training." Roland had picked up a sword before, but that was a very long time ago, and as far as he can remember he was awful with it, waving it around like a toy. Nay, in order for him to be respected as a warrior he would need to both respect his weapon and his opponent. Still though, he was nervous about using a sword once more, as mentioned many times before he doesn't have it in him to charge into battle, the thought of being gutted by some stinking commoner was horrifying.

Still though, if any of his brothers made an attempt on his life it would be best if he had at least some skill with a sword, though he had thought of gathering a few skilled warriors as his personal guard, he couldn't exactly trust the guards around the palace, any one of them could turn on him for the right price. Nonetheless, he would be lead to the training yard (or the courtyard if the former didn't exist.) Once he arrived he would wait for his trainer to arrive unless he was already there. He would order that several guards and a servant or two be present at all times. The servants were necessary because, well, he was going to be training in the hot sun for at least a few hours, so it would be nice to have them at his beck and call for refreshments, although he would explicitly order that they only deliver water, anything else would hinder his training. The guards would be present for safety, to be honest he didn't trust being alone at all, not with his brothers on the loose.

Day Two, Midday

"As you wish, Your Highness, your training will be prepared at once. Warn the barracks!" Said Roland's attendant, the last part of that speech destined to a servant hovering nearby. Turning back to the young prince, the man said: "We will also procure you with a guard of four guards as well as two servants, to make your training more comfortable."

The prince's wish was granted easily enough and soon he was led by two servants to the castle's barracks, where a training yard was erected. The yard was imposing and seemed to be able to fit a hundred man easily enough with it's rectangular shape and it's training dummies on it's perimeter. A few guards were also sparring each other nearby. As they approached an empty spot, the party was met by a knight of the prince's late brother, the man kneeling before Roland and swearing that no ham would be made to the prince under his watch. Thus the training stated. The sun was shining harshly on the two men as they sparred, Sir Ernest was also a hard taskmaster that was unforgiving of mistakes and who did not tolerate laziness.

"Come now, Your Highness, parry like this to unbalance your attacker. You should be able to defend yourself at least..." Sir Ernest shouted, looking barely out of breath even though Roland was ready to drop.

After many hours under the rapidly rising sun, the training ended, the two men bowing to each other before they parted. Roland felt like a horde of wolves had attacked him and wanted nothing more than go to sleep at this point, but then again he did want to learn to dance...

Roland was now Fatigued.

Roland's Strength raised by 1.

Roland's Speed raised by 1.

Roland's Toughness raised by 1.

Roland was now a novice of the Martial arts.

"Ah!" Roland exclaimed as Sir Ernest's wooden sword smacked him on his left shoulder, he couldn't predict his movements to save his life, his sword glided elegantly through the air, his swings were graceful but strong, and he was in total control at all times. Roland was quite frankly amazed, his own movements were primitive and wild by comparison. Discipline, that is what it took to be a masterful swordsman. By the end of the training Roland was about to collapse, but he was grateful for Sir Ernest's beneficial training, he would make sure to assign him as his personal trainer, afterall he seemed to have the perfect balance of discipline and criticism. Roland was nearly dead on his feet, even after having a brief rest on a chair his legs were still sore.

He frowned slightly, this threw a hammer into his plans. For royalty dancing was an important skill, maybe not so much for a king, but for a prince it was. While he was fatigued, he resolved that he wasn't too tired to learn a new skill, besides how taxing could dancing be? He called to one of his servants and ordered her to find a dancing instructor for him. He would have a brief lunch in the dining hall, nothing that would take more than ten minutes to eat, afterwards he would be guided to the ballroom by one of the servants, as it was the most suitable place for dancing and all self-respecting palaces had one. He tried to stretch out his body a bit, hoping that the pain in his muscles would fade away.

Hopefully he wouldn't be too bad at dancing, long ago he was pretty good, but that was before he began to reject his 'trainers'. It was all a bunch of fake crap anyways, like stickers on an prison cell, it gave his life some flavor, but that flavor soon began to make him sick. He hadn't danced in years, maybe some of his former talent would come back to him? He tried to push unpleasant thoughts from his mind, he would just focus on learning, and by troubling himself he only worsened his already prominent fatigue.

Day Two, Evening.

After painfully making his way to the nearest mess hall, Roland was given food and questioned by the guards and trainee of off duties as they wondered who he was after seeing the circlet on his brow. After a painfully polite exchange of a few words, the prince finished his meal and made his way to his room to change and freshen up. In his room, he splashed some water on his face and changed into another set of his everyday garments, as identical as the ones preceding them. That tailor's appointment would be vital as his clothes started to be worn out, of all things! That would be disastrous to his princely reputation. Once presentable, he made his way to the ballroom where a severe looking woman awaited him.

She ended up being even more ruthless than Sir Ernest.

"I am Lady Edith and will be teaching you to not shame the noble Windsor clan with your pitiful attempt at dancing, Your Highness. If we could start..." The woman intoned with a piercing stare.

In her care he relearned various waltz and other more exotic ballroom dances as she demolished his confidence in his skills as she moved like she was born to dance, his now exhausted feet not able to keep up. The prince learned four dances to his teacher's satisfaction before collapsing, his feet bleeding in his inadequate shoes as he was carried back to his room. There, the tailor waited for him.

He was prodded, measured, flipped over, twirled around and tsked at before he was finally released to his worried servants who put him into his sleeping gown, bandaged his feet and finally put his nearly catatonic self under the silken sheet of his bed.

Roland was now Exhausted.

Roland was now Wounded.

Roland's Stamina increased by 1.

Aleph was quite content with the epic dream he had as she woke up. Regardless of whether or not he knew what was actually happening, it made him feel just that much more awesome. But as much as he wanted to, he couldn't go back to sleep, as he had chores, and these chores were to attend an audience, and he couldn't ignore that, unfortunately.

Normally, he would feel a bit nervous in such a situation involving this many people, but with a kind heart and luxe clothes to match, he couldn't really not be confident, now could he? So, with a smile, he stepped onto the balcony and glanced around. Though the faces were for the most part, unfamiliar, he knew that the other men he saw were his brothers and rivals. Even still, he gave a complementary bow and smile to each and every one of them, ignoring the fact the more narcisstic ones might take that as a sign of surrender. By no means was he doing that, and only the fools would see it that way. He would fight for the throne if need be, to ensure that no unjust imprisonment ever happens to anyone again. And to lead his kingdom to victory, of course.

Aleph's stance was far from king-like - his arms were idly hanging to the side, in a bit of an uncomfortable position because of his kingly apparel. Such was the price for beauty, it had seemed. He didn't really know too much about anything really going on here, so he stood and stayed quiet, at least that was his plan, but when the death cry of a guard caught his attention, he realized that he'd get killed doing such. Now was time for action!

As the guards began retaliating, Aleph was thankful he had taken the servant's information as credible, and acted accordingly. It might've just saved not only his life, but the lives of the entire royal family. He'd remember this. He'd make sure she was compensated greatly. Aleph noticed one thing that the guards had, aside from armor, that he did not, and that was a means to defend himself. He had not a sword nor shield in which to use against the aggressors, and countering them with his hands was only a last resort considering it wasn't the easiest nor safest thing to do. Aleph would remedy this lack of weaponry by quickly running in and stealing the deceased guard's sword while the Goulashians were occupied with his guards.

He doubled back and addressed his brothers and his family, sword in hand. "My brothers! If you wish not to die, then a hasteful retreat should be made, immediately!" he warned with a stern, commanding voice reminiscant of a commander of some sort. If he had any part of being a king down already, it was that he had the voice that made people want to do what he said, both normally and in severe situations, like right now. Aleph was sure that there were more where that came from, and was expecting the worse.

Aleph's blood was pumping, and he liked it.

To think that dancing would injure him like this, it was absolutely ridiculous. Of all times to get himself injured he did it right before the royal gathering, how frustrating. He would lay in his bed, no doubt he would need to call a physician, but wouldn't he rather rest? Perhaps it would be worth the pain to endure the injury and simply get some rest. He thought to himself for a few moments. He couldn't afford for the wound to become infected, he finally decided to call a physician, he sent one of the servants to find the finest available physician. Hopefully there was more a physician could, though somehow he doubted it. He remained in his bed, pretty much helpless.

He closed his eyes and tried to imagine something pleasant. Time passed quickly as he imagined beautiful vistas that was the kingdom of Alder. He would imagine the many great projects he would complete, how much he could improve the kingdom: No man, woman or child would suffer, and he would decimate his enemies. Fourty minutes passed before the physician arrived, Roland's eyes snapped open once heard the creaking of the door opening. He was always a little intimidated by doctors of any kind, often times their treatments were quite painful, and pain was something that Roland was terrible with. He had no choice though, and despite his anxiety he kept a straight face, with any luck the doctor could help more than the bandages, and he could take a nap in preperation for tonight.

Day 2, Night

The physician worked quickly and competently, washing the prince's feet in a warm water basin brought by servant and applying a strange salve to his feet. Soon enough the Prince's feet were bandaged and Roland fast asleep, his sleep too exhausted for dreams of any kind.

The morning dawned like it was a mere second later, the Prince still feeling fatigued but far better than when he fell into bed the night prior. Breakfast was brought and eaten swiftly. Then came the time for the Presentation as Roland was washed, perfumed and clothed into his new princely apparels to be shown to the whole kingdom.

Led to the castle's balcony, the prince moment of glory was interrupted by a small squad of Goulashians attacking from below...

Roland is no longer Peaceful

Roland is now Fatigued

Roland is no longer Wounded

Roland put on his best smile for the presentation, trying to look as noble and gallant as possible. However a blood curdling cry interrupted the event. From the balcony Roland could see a squad of Goulashian warriors attacking, they fought the guards and observers alike. He was shocked to say the least, and was even more shocked that he was defensleess. What could he do besides flee? He could see that Aleph had already grabbed a sword, and from what he said it sounded as if he was going to fight along the guards. Though he didn't know Aleph in any sense, he would not leave him to fend off the Goulashians with just a handful of guards at his back, besides, what good is a king that cannot lay down his blood for his people? Roland would turn to one of his brothers, "Find any available guards you can, send them here. I'll help with the defense." And with that Roland made his way down to the ground where the fight was located. Even though he wasn't very strong or sturdy like Aleph, he was nimble and quick on his feet, he didn't plan to get into the thick of it too much.

Once on the ground level with his brother Aleph, Roland would sprint over to a nearby fallen Goulashian, grabbing his hatchet and wooden buckler. The hatchet was probably even better than the swords he was used to using, it was small enough to promote quick attacks. He felt the wooden handle and tried to center his balance, steady his body aswell as his mind. From the front a Goulashian woud cut down one of the guards, blood spurtting all over his face as he charged forwards towards Roland. It was frightening, but blood was starting to pump through his body, his heart raced. Similar to Aleph, he liked it. Roland could predict the Goulashian soldier's attack, his arm was slightly back as if he was going to strike with a vertical slash. Roland hopped back, avoiding the attack by a goot foot or two. Fear flooded his body, the flight for fight instinct urging him to flee, but he wouldn't. Even though he wasn't a warrior at heart, he wasn't a coward. Summoning up all of his bravery Roland would lunge forth, the Goulashian man still unstable from his last attack. It was an openning, and a big one at that.

This Goulashian wasn't exactly skilled, he seemed to fuel his attacks with rage only to leave himself open afterwards. Roland with aim a horozontal slash at the enemy soldier's neck where his skin was exposed. Roland's hatchet lodged itself into the man's neck, and he fell to his knees. Roland would pull the hatchet from his neck, blood spurtting all over him and the groun around him. His eyes widened, he had killed a man for the first time. This feeling...This feeling...It...

It felt great.

Roland kicked the Goulashian in the chest, causing him to fall back to bleed out on the ground. Adrenaline rushed through his body, he regrouped with Aleph, following him and watching his back, whether he chose to flee or fight.

Day 3, Morning

Most of the Princes made their ways back in the castle securely, others joining the fight like Aleph and Roland, taking the weapon of the fallen and joining the fray to protect their lives and their homes. With the guards in position and more coming after they were alerted by the other Prince, the battle was fortunately in their favour as merely a dozen of Goulashians soldiers had attacked, the act an halfhearted attempt at a coup by the small band of men.

Aleph fought bravely, managing to best two Goulashian soldiers by bravery and innate skills alone, his confidence helping greatly his cause. With a war cry, the young man charged his enemies with a desperation born of fear and anger, making short work of his opponents at the cost of a deep gash to his offhand arm, that he used as a makeshift guard, managing to prevent a far more deadly blow. However, another soldier sneaked out behind him, ready to end his life in the most cowardly of ways only to be stopped.

Indeed, Roland watched his older brother's back and managed to block the blow in time, the attacked being finished off by a guard that proceeded to stay by the Princes' sides from here on out. The rest of the guards had arrived.

Now far outnumbering the greatly diminished invaders, the guards could now concentrate in protecting the princes as the Goulashians' apparent leader was brought to heel before the still present brothers, the battle finished by one last blow at the leader remaining comrade.

“What should we do with this one, Your Highness?” The captain of the guard asked the bloodstained princes.

“We should kill him in the capital's square!” Said one.

“We should send his head back to those filthy Goulashians on a silver platter!” Said another.

“We should enrol him in our army!” Said a third.

“Make him our slave!” Said a forth.

Soon, the balcony was filled with a cacophony of orders from the nearly all the princes present. Roland and Aleph were drowned in sound...

Aleph is now Wounded.

Aleph is now Fatigued.

Aleph's Strength increased by 2.

Aleph's Toughness increased by 2.

Aleph is now Triumphant

Roland is now Exhausted.

Roland is no longer Suave.

Roland's Speed increased by 1.

Roland is now Triumphant.

When all was said and done, the warrior-prince Aleph was filled with glory he hadn't felt before. This much was to be expected after a noble battle, especially because they had won with little casualties. None of his brothers were cut down, and for that, he was ecstatic, for he had defended some of them with his own life. Hopefully, even if they were competing for the throne, they would show him a little bit of respect. But Aleph wasn't the only one who deserved respect. No, another one of his brothers, though obviously not skilled with battle, had proven to stand up for his brothers and for his kingdom.

After all, if the King does not lead, how can he expect his subordinates to follow?

If anything, Roland proved to Aleph that he wasn't a coward, and for that, Aleph would hold him a bit higher than if he hadn't joined in. But for now, they had other matters to tend to and couldn't awe over each other's courageous actions. Aleph would walk over, right in front of the restrained attacker and look him in the eye. Quite the glare was being emitted from Aleph, one that would strike fear into the heart of anybody except for those with great experience in the battlefield. The Goulash leader, or whatever he was, didn't flinch.

Aleph raised his hand in the air, his fist clenched as if he were going to punch, but it continued up until it was raised above him. This action hurt a bit, considering he had an injury, but it shut everyone else up. "Should we not ask how he managed to snake his way into our walls? Should we not use this man to learn anything of value? Surely he might even know something that could assist us, even in a small degree." Aleph said. "Before you result to forcing him to his death, extract any information you can. That is what I believe we should do."