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Moloch Markus

"Brave of you sir, to so openly cast an envious eye towards me and mine. I suggest you look elsewhere, lest I consider removing your sight in a more permanent fashion."

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a character in “Crowns, Empires & Swords”, as played by almostinsane

Description

Image

Image



Image Name: Moloch Markus

Age:
20

Appearance and Build:
Fit and muscular, Moloch Markus cuts an imposing figure at 6"1. Moloch is a tall man, but by no means is he skinny. Moloch's body is not that of a king who sits on his throne and directs others to do his bidding. He is a man who has seen battle and bears the scars of it proudly. Moloch's hair is dark like the ash dragonfire leaves in its wake and he often has a neatly styled stubble of facial hair. His eyes are a crystal blue that gleam as though he is in deep thought even as he is talking to someone. An adept at politics, Moloch usually chooses to dress in whatever attire he feels fits the occassion the most from rich, jeweled robes to dark dragonbone armor to practical outfits made of black leather and plain white cloth. Moloch is a handsome man, but an intense one. Few ever forget that they are in the putrescence of a king when he speaks to them.

Personality: Moloch is royalty and he knows it. He thinks that false modesty is for fools unfit for their position in life. Domineering and stubborn, once Moloch sets his heart on something, there are few that can turn him from his course. Moloch believes in his own right to rule as it is his nature and birthright and behaves in a controlled manner at all times. Rarely does he behave in a manner that is beneath his dignity, though he is not humourless and can be quite witty at times, though often at a political rival's expense. Moloch loves his people with all his heart and is willing to whatever it takes to protect them and see them prosper. The King also has a love for battle and a bloodlust to match his pride once a battle begins, though Moloch never enters a war or battle without a set objective and good reason behind it. Moloch's chief faults are his volatile temper and pride, both of which can cause him to make mistakes in his political, diplomatic, and military strategies.

Where they live:
Drake City/Drake Kingdom

What/ who they are:
King of Drake City/Drake Kingdom

History:
Moloch was born to the King and Queen of Drake City and was groomed to succeed his father since day one. As such, he was taught that he would inherit the city one day and have the role of its caretaker, lord, master, and judge. From an early age, however, Moloch saw the ways the city's nobles eyed his family, like wolves waiting for the slightest sign of weakness. Foreign dignitaries too would eye the city and the throne enviously, causing Moloch to take to his studies with gusto. He learned how to run the city and read its people while simultaneously manipulating them. He also came to the conclusion that the King of Drake City would either expand his dominion or he would bow to another.

A year ago, Moloch's father and mother were poisoned, part of a conspiracy involving a couple of nobles and agents from the South Atlantic Kingdom. Only he and his brother, Kallias, survived. Quickly, Moloch uncovered the truth and upon his coronation, as his family's guests drank the toast to his good health, the nobles responsible and the diplomats from the South Atlantic Kingdom fell dead from the very poison they used to murder his and Kallias' family. Inevitably, the rival kingdom attacked and Moloch led his small, but well-armed and well-trained forces to victory, killing the enemy king himself and taking revenge for his parents. Eventually, however, Moloch was forced to cease his expansion into the South Atlantic Kingdom out of fear he'd stretch himself too thin. Thus, he signed a peace treaty with the rival kingdom and began to incorporate the lands he conquered into his kingdom.

Skills:
As is expected from the King of Drake City, Moloch is a talented warrior, shrewd statesman, and a charming diplomat. Moloch has been trained to fight in the ways of his people. He knows what it is to fight in a phalanx among his drakon infantry. He knows how to ride with sword or spear in one hand and a shield on the other. He knows what it is to feel the lust for blood on the battlefield, but reign it in before it can cloud his judgement. Both on and off the battlefield, Moloch has proven to be a talented commander and brilliant strategist. He knows how to inspire his in war people or peace and can read a person's character and motivations, which proves useful in politics and diplomacy. Moloch is also able to produce fire magically to aid him in personal combat.

Other:
[/center]

So begins...

Moloch Markus's Story

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Orys Baratheon Character Portrait: Amelia Stormborn Character Portrait: Moloch Markus
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Few people in Drake City loved the Sea. The Sea was treacherous, chaotic, and cruel, serving the whims of the fickle sister of Kiel, Calypso, goddess of the Sea and the most feared deity in that people's pantheon besides Mandos, Lord of the Dead. It was natural for the Drake people to fear the Sea. They were people of earth and fire, born on the rich soil of an ancient dragon graveyard. Yet, there were some among that people who braved the Sea as merchants or mariners in the city-state's/small kingdom's fledgling navy. These men, while wary of the Sea, did not hate or fear it as a normal Drake citizen did. Indeed, from what Moloch could see from his position on the ship, Calypso's Mercy, he could see that the mariners before him seemed to bear some sort of affection for the Sea, though he failed to understand why. Then again, Cyrus always told him that he would command the element as Kiel did from his throne in Heaven if he could and the Sea was something even he could not conquer. Nonetheless, Moloch admired the ship. It was not as grand as the flagship of the neighboring kingdoms' navies, but it was fast and deadly in its own way.

"Blehg..."

Moloch glanced over at the side of the ship in amusement to see a normally stoic woman losing her lunch over the deck. He hid a smile. Eirene, his Captain of the King's Guard was the most skilled warrior he had ever seen and was rumored to be favored by Bellona herself. Yet, this form of travel had made her as helpless as a green recruit.

"I am not sure that Calypso would appreciate you polluting her home like this," came an amused voice as an old man stepped beside her, as tranquil as ever. Cyrus did not appear to be bothered by the endless depths of water they traveled upon. Rather, he munching on an apple as pleased as a mouser who caught a mouse.

"Calypso can fuck herself..." Eirene groaned, steadying herself as a few mariners around her murmured a few prayers to place the Sea Goddess, "I do not know why you chose to travel this way, Moloch."

Few people were permitted to address him so casually. Eirene and Cyrus were the only two on this vessel permitted given their friendship with the king. Moloch sighed.

"This ship is the newest and fastest vessel in the fleet. I wanted to see how it sailed for myself. Furthermore, I do not want to show weakness to King Robert Baratheon or his court by traveling over land when sailing is faster. Foreigners know Lady Calypso's and her realm's reputation among our people well. Also, given its speed, it is more than capable of ferrying us away should the unpredictable happen in King's Landing or Kallias does something exceedingly foolish."

"Your brother will do fine, Moloch. You give him too little credit," Cyrus told him. Moloch frowned.

"Be that as it may, I would have you there with him."

"And leave you in King's Landing with no one but this brute to protect you from Queen Cersei's schemes and other parasites in that hornets' nest they call a capital? I think not," Cyrus replied, ignoring the glare Eirene sent his way.

"Incase you are unaware, I am perfectly adept at scheming and intrigue, Cyrus," Moloch noted.

"Yes, that is true. But you are used to holding all the cards. This is not your city."

Moloch nodded in acknowledgement. Soon enough, the ship had reached the dock at King's Landing and the king summoned a messenger. Said messenger was a page of noble birth. He looked ot be of the House of Peleus. To his credit, he did not appear sea sick.

"Inform King Robert that we have arrived for his tournament."

The page bowed before leaving, rather eagerly judging from the way he stepped onto dry land at last.

***

Finding the King and what what appeared to be a noble of high standing after convincing the guards of his identity, citing a token that permitted him into the Citadel of the King in Drake City as proof, the page bowed clumsily.

"Your Grace. King Moloch, the Chosen of Kiel, King of the Gods, the brother of Lord Mardu and Lady Bellona, God and Goddess of Wisdom and War, Conqueror of the South Atlantic Lords and Defender of the Drake Kingdom extends his greetings and thanks you for your invitation to your august kingdom," the page announced, having forgotten his orders to omit the traditional divine titles of the Monarch of Drake City.

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Character Portrait: Moloch Markus
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By the time King Moloch of Drake had arrived at King's Landing King Robert Baratheon was well in a heated debate with his brother Lord Stannis, his Master of Coin Petyr Baelish and the Lord Commander of his Kingsguard Ser Gerold Hightower. As Moloch was brought into the small council chamber to bear audience to His Majesty what he found was King Robert Baratheon seated behind a long oaken table. The table was exquisitely carved with gold inlay and depictions of all the great houses of the South Pacific Kingdoms, the Crowned Stag the greatest among them. Atop the desk was strewn countless scrolls and parchments, several maps of the city as well as an abacus.

Robert was red faced from shouting and his patience had no doubt left him along with his sobriety. Beside him was a tall horn rimmed in gold and filled with summerwine, no telling how many he'd emptied before his guest had arrived. Beside him stood his brother, the stoic Lord Stannis Baratheon. He appeared equally frustrated yet was sober as a cold winter morning. He had his hands on the table as he barked scoldings and threats to the Master of Coin. Petyr Baelish however seemed ill perturbed. Not one to display his emotions with ease he remained calm as still water, even while the fearsome Lord of Storm's End threatened to have him whipped through the streets. He merely continued to go over the extravagant cost of the entire affair and scribble tiny adjustments in the ledger before him. The Lord Commander however was silent, as he was not a man to argue with Lords and Kings. His only priority was the safety of his King and as such would from time to time dutifully bring up the matter of security and their lack of Gold Cloaks to secure the sea of people they had admitted into the city.

Robert's sighed in frustration as the men around him continued to talk about what was best for his damn tourney when a voice forced him to raze his Kingly gaze.

"Your Grace. King Moloch, the Chosen of Kiel, King of the Gods, the brother of Lord Mardu and Lady Bellona, God and Goddess of Wisdom and War, Conqueror of the South Atlantic Lords and Defender of the Drake Kingdom extends his greetings and thanks you for your invitation to your august kingdom,"

Robert had to stare at the boy for a moment as if he had been speaking another language. The council had finally fell silent and Robert tossed a cursory glance to his brother, whose face showed no emotion. Leaning closer to him slightly he spoke in something of a hushed whisper.

"Brother of Lord who now?"

"Mardu, Your Grace. Their God of Wisdom."

"Right."

Robert said taking his brother's word for it. He'd never been one to remember all the countless religions of the world. Gods knew he had enough of his own to worry about less he start fretting over more he'd be praying till he was dead and in the ground. Robert got to his feet and walked around the table, grateful to see King Moloch Markus again. It was years ago thst Robert had called a mighty host to march south though not in conquest but in defense. King Moloch had only just inherited the throne after his parent's murder and faced his first threat to his rule almost immediately. His parent's vile murders marched on his kingdom with their armies hoping to take it for themselves. Unfortunately for them the new king was no crowned prince but a warrior king and a warrior king with powerful friends. Robert himself marched his host into the city and lent his forces to Moloch to aid him in the defense of the city. It was there actually his nephew and the young King sparked a friendship that lasted till this day.

"Moloch, it's been too long. Why haven't I seen you? Where the hell have you been?"

King Robert regarded Moloch warmly, crossing the room to shake his hand firmly.

Setting

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Character Portrait: Moloch Markus
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Moloch resisted the urge to wince as he felt Robert's strong grip on his hand. The king's current condition may have been a far cry from his youth as a warrior prince fighting for his rightful throne in his father's stories, but King Robert was still quite strong, even by his standards. Moloch himself had seen Robert in battle and, though he was still quite fat, that didn't stop him from raising his warhammer to wack an opponent's head off.

"There were a few matters to attend to at Court. Kallias is a good man, but there are some members of the nobility I'd rather deal with myself," Moloch replied before smiling at Robert. Of all the crowned heads of the world, Robert was one that Moloch felt comfortable giving some level of trust to. He was a good ally to his father and did not desert him at his darkest hour.

"It's been too long, Robert. You will remember Eirene and Cyrus, of course," the young king told him, both of his closest allies bowing to the foreign king.

"Tell me, How is Orys? I am certain he is the tournament's favorite if my memory of his prowess is correct."

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Orys Baratheon Character Portrait: Moloch Markus
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In the small council chamber of the Red Keep King Robert Baratheon, first of his name, was thoroughly enjoying the company of a young king whose father had helped him win his crown and who, years later he'd helped in return to defend his own. Robert had just finished greeting both of Moloch's councilors when the King of Drake mentioned Orys.

"Tell me, How is Orys? I am certain he is the tournament's favorite if my memory of his prowess is correct."

"Aye that he is, I tell you true Moloch my boy's going to win the whole damned thing. There's not a man in this kingdom who can out ride or out fight Orys Baratheon."

Putting a warm around Moloch's shoulder and leading him to the window that overlooked the tourney grounds Moloch could see the sprawling field where the jousting would be held on the morrow. A sea of tents and pavilions had been erected and still more were being raised in every color imaginable. Many in the colors of the great house of the South pacific so there was more than a few Casterly crimsons, Stark whites, Tyrell greens and surpassing them all was the yellow and black of Baratheon. Banners flew in the air magnificently and people swarmed about giving the entire grounds an almost magical yet appearance.

"You watch him out there Moloch, you watch and see. Your friend, my nephew will show them. He'll show them all. Isn't that so brother?"

Robert asked in more of a shout than he may have intended as he turned around to look at Lord Stannis who was still well at work budgeting the whole affair. Without even looking up Stannis gave the king his reply.

"That it is, Your Grace."

Robert seem satisfied enough and turned back to Moloch with a smile and a laugh.

"Now I don't want to keep you. You had a long sail I hear. Go settle in, there'll be time to talk later. You'll be sitting with me tomorrow. We'll drink our fill, eat our fill and laugh until we burst as Orys unseats man after bloody man."

With that Robert bellowed for his squire who rushed in panting and pale faced. Robert snarled at the lad for taking too long before ordering him to show the King of Drake to his chambers. As he had done with Queen Amelia, King Moloch had been awarded the same courtesy due to his close friendship with King Robert and thus had an entire wing of the massive Red Keep cleared out for his use and leisure.

While the King of Drake was being showed to where he'd be residing for the duration of the tourney, the suspected favorite was on his way back to his father and uncle when he was detoured by yet a different uncle.

"Well if it isn't the Shadow of Axel himself."

Orys turned around to that honeyed voice of his uncle Renly and erupted in a joyous smile. Renly did the same and the two embraced in a warm hug.

"Uncle, how have you been keeping?"

Renly Baratheon was the youngest of the Baratheon brothers. Only six years Orys' senior the two were more like friends or brothers than uncle and nephew. The primary difference was in their character. Where Orys was fierce and battle hungry Renly saw little use in bloodletting. Killing seemed beneath him and a bore. Hunting was tiresome, jousting was something to bet on but never compete in, sword fighting had its uses but was better served by hiring others to risk life and limb for you. Renly loved finery and wealth. He favored the richest cloth and the finest wines. Succulent foods and good company was more important to all the glories of all the battles to Renly Baratheon. Standing a head shorter than his large nephew Renly was nowhere near as broad or muscled as Orys. Where Orys spent most of his days in the training yard of riding out to some skirmish or another Renly spend many of his days and nights either in a council chamber or feasting with friends. He was slender but not skinny with a well groomed thin beard and that trademark black as coal hair of the house Baratheon. Despite the grandeur of Orys steel plate and cloak of wool topped with bear fur he looked near a pauper when compared with Renly's finery. He wore a jerkin made of the finest dyed silks from Pentos with golden fastenings bearing the image of stag's antlers. His sword belt was exquisite, supple leather with golden inlay that bore resemblance to interwoven vines, growing strong. Hanging of his hip was a valyrian steel dagger with a dark, almost black, dragon bone hilt.

"Master of Laws keeps me busy but I'm enjoying myself as ever."

Orys looked confused at his uncles reply.

"Master of Laws? Last I'd heard you were Hand of the King?"

Renly let loose a droll, sighing chuckle.

"That I was, for a fort night. There's much you don't know. Come, walk with me."

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Orys Baratheon Character Portrait: Captian Robyn Sheva of the Harbinger Character Portrait: Moloch Markus Character Portrait: Deacon Lesseth
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"Well, Robert was the same as always," Cyrus commented with an ironic grin on his old face as Moloch, himself, and Eirene acquainted themselves with their new quarters. The older king had been generous in giving Moloch and his party a whole wing to themselves. Even with the knights, pages, and guards that would be living in this wing of the palace with them, there would still be plenty of room.

"Is it me or has he gotten fatter?" Eirne asked. Cyrus only shrugged.

"We all have our vices. I have a feeling that he can still raise his hammer."

"Oh, there's no doubt about that. However, it is his skills off the battlefield that trouble me," Moloch mused. He stepped towards his suite's window, which allowed him a magnificient view of the city. King's Landing lacked the magnificient white stone and the ordliness of Drake City's buildings and streets, but it had a charm all its own, "Did you notice the gazes of the nobility as we walked in and Robert's manner? There are many plots within this city and a king who can no longer bring himself to care."

"Doubtless, Cersei has her fair share of plots," Eirene noted in distaste. Moloch hummed in agreement.

"Still, it makes things easier for us. Cyrus? Can you contact our mutual friend?"

"But of course, your majesty. We cannot have you palling around with that sort where someone might see you," the old magi commented dryly as he left the room. Eirene raised an eyebrow.

"What are you planning, Moloch?"

"Our navy is small and the mercenaries we made use of in the last war are becoming arrogant. Who better to bring a pirate fleet in line than another pirate?"

***

When the average person thought of magic, they thought of thunderbolts, wind, and flame, but there were many other abilities a magician could master. Cyrus over the course of his many adventures had learned to walk unseen by human eyes. This, of course, did not stop him from being heard or smelled and even the most inept guard could notice a door opening by itself. Thus, Cyrus contented himself with following guards until he found himself in the dungeons. He was rather fortunate to find a man heading towards the same cell as himself. He smiled at the irony.

"Captian Sheva. My name is Syrus Feraldi, an adviser to King Deacon of Fuaria and Commander of his secret battalion.This may sound odd my dear, but I am here to help you. Fuaria comes to you as an ally with a certain offer we have to give. Firstly, you must know that whether you choose to take or deny King Deacon's offer, we are willing to help you escape in any way possible. Along with completely erasing the Fuarian bounty on your head."

The Crimson Lady snorted a laugh. "I can escape this place without your assistance."

" and you should realize by now, I have bounties on my head in atleast 70 different countries, nations and or city-states. I tend not to take them seriously."

"Oh, good. A bidding war. I haven't been in once since arriving at this city of Robert Baratheon's," Cyrus announced brightly, appearing beside the man who had spoken, "I happen to be named Cyrus myself and my lord can offer far more than King Deacon is able to. Besides the gold, there is your pick of a ship, a fleet of like-minded individuals such as yourself, and a port which would allow you to sell your ill-gotten goods provided that you remain... Discreet. After all, its generally bad business for both the pirate and her patron for the enemy to find out where said port is."

***

After a rather heated discussion with his Captain of the Guard regarding the untrustworthiness of pirates, Moloch had decided he could use a walk. Thus, he made his way through the castle and out onto the tourney grounds. As luck would have it, he spotted his old friend, Orys, and made his way to his tent, a couple of his guards following him. Sure enough, Orys' own guards stopped him at the entrance. Moloch smiled slightly.

"Is Prince Orys availabe or is he frequenting a paramour that I should know about," Moloch asked, making sure his voice carried into the tent so his friend could hear.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Captian Robyn Sheva of the Harbinger Character Portrait: Moloch Markus Character Portrait: Deacon Lesseth
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"Oh, good a bidding war.I haven't been in one since arriving at this city of Robert Baratheon's. Said a man appearing beside Syrus. Robyn sighed impatiently.
"And who might you be?" She asked somewhat exasperated. Most men wouldn't even look in her direction let alone seek audience with her. She was really beginning to hate this prison.

"I happened to be named Cryus myself, and my lord can offer far more than King Deacpn is able to, Besides the gold, there is your pick of a ship, a fleet of like-minded individuals such as yourself and a port of which would allow you to sell your ill-gotten goods provided that you remain....Discreet. After all, its generally bad business for both the pirate and her patron for the enemy to find out where the port is."

Robyn shook her head.

"You have got to be kidding me." She said with a humorless laugh. "I have not been this popular since my days in the brothel." She said and looked up at both men. "My days at the brothel also taught me that men are only offer gifts when they want something. You two seem to want something similar, ironically." She said and sighed.

"Now, what, Dare I ask, is it that you two want in return."

Setting

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Character Portrait: Captian Robyn Sheva of the Harbinger Character Portrait: Moloch Markus Character Portrait: Deacon Lesseth
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#, as written by Arik223
Syrus and Deacon had a plan, all along they had a plan. They had never planned to come to this prison announcing their plans, there are always ears in the shadows, Syrus knew that much. He also knew who this man was, since the initiation of the Shadow Crawlers, Syrus had sent out dozens of spies to every country on the globe. Many people of interest were now under his radar. This 'Cyrus' was surly one of them. Syrus chuckled to himself. "Bidding war? I am afraid I am not here to buy a free woman, or threaten her for that matter. What you offer, lord Cyrus, is merely a speckle of dust of what King Deacon has in store. But perhaps the captain is right, Your king and mine may have similar interests. I will speak to King Deacon." It was likely that both Kings shared common goals, and an alliance to King Deacon's benefit will be more than welcome. The Fuarian's aren't ones to break promises. Syrus and Leon knew what their master desired, and they were both trusted enough to make smart decisions. "My business here is concluded" Syrus smiled and reached into his back pocket, pulling out a sealed envelope with a Fuarian seal. "What I want in return, Captain Sheva, is your friendship." Syrus smiled and handed Sheva the note through the bars. "Pleasure to meet your acquaintance Cyrus. I am most certain we will be seeing each other again." With that Syrus bowed and walked towards the stairs. He stopped and turned his head slightly. "As for the bounty you have in other countries is concerned, I am sure none of that will matter. After all, even kings and queens are sensible people." Syrus gave another sinister smile and made his way out the door.

the note:
"Captain Sheva, you must excuse the privacy of this matter. The shadow's lurk with wondering eyes and ears. It is likely that our conversation has gotten your attention, if here are direction's on how to find me and conclude the conversation in a more suitable manner. There are many secrets that King Deacon and I are more than willing to share with you. I will be awaiting at the inn well after midnight. On the off chance you are not interested, It was a pleasure meeting the Crimson Lady.

Setting

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Character Portrait: Captian Robyn Sheva of the Harbinger Character Portrait: Moloch Markus
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Cyrus smiled slightly at the man's words. He waited for him to finish his speech and, eying the note he gave her. He would have to tell Moloch about that. If she pretended to work for them, but double-crossed them.... Well, things could be rather troublesome. As he left, he looked at Robyn and chuckled at her words.

"That remains to be seen, Mr. Syrus, that remains to be seen."
Robyn said and looked over at Cryus of Drake. "So, What of you. He made quite the speech, your odds are looking quite slim..."

"If you were not interested in my offer, we wouldn't be speaking. Now, what could the Fuarians offer you? Their treasury, you will find, is quite small in comparison to other, richer countries. The Arctic Lands can support them, but there isn't much of a surplus for paying mercenaries. They haven't warred with their neighbors in years, though, judging from their interest in you, this will change soon. Most likely, they will pay you in whatever plunder you can find, but where will you sell those valuables? King Moloch is more than capable of paying you handsomely for your services and has a port where you can do business undisturbed. He also offers you a ship as a token of his generosity.

As for the job, it's quite simple. Have you heard of the Sea Vultures? They served the Drake Kingdom well in the previous war and were well paid for your services, but their leader is demanding more than he deserves. Here is our offer: Duel the pirate, take control of his fleet, and work as a privateer for the Drake Kingdom. In return, you will receive a stipend, a ship of your choice from our navy, a safe port to trade in, and 70% of the plunder from your raids."

Cyrus paused for almost a minute, letting this sink in before continuing, "Of course, you are not the only pirate that sails these seas. If you reject this offer, we will find someone else."

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Captian Robyn Sheva of the Harbinger Character Portrait: Moloch Markus Character Portrait: Deacon Lesseth
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"If you were not interested on my offer, we wouldn't be speaking. Now, what could the Fuarians offer you? Their treasury, you will find, is quite small in comparison to other, richer countries. The Arctic Lands can support them, but there isn't much of a surplus for paying mercenaries. They haven't warred with their neighbors in years, though judging from their interest in you this will change soon."

Robyn laughed at that. She figured that much already, she was amused by the 'My lands, richer then their land' stunt thry both were pulling, it was like childern fighting over which of them had the bigger slice of cake. Childish.

"Most likely, they will pay you in whatever plunder you can find, but where will you sell those valuables? King Moloch is more then capable of paying you handsomely for you services and has a port where you can do business undisturbed. He also offers you a ship as a token of his generosity.
As for the job, it's quite simple. Have you heard of the Sea Vultures? They served the Drake Kingdom well in the previous war and were well paid for your services, but their leader is demanding more than he deserves. Here is our offer: Duel the pirate, take control of his fleet, and work as a privateer for the Drake Kingdom. In return, you will receive a stipend, a ship of your choice from our navy, a safe port to trade in, and 70% of the plunder from your raids."


Robyn leaned lazily against the bars, her arms hanging on the outside, peach still in hand. She took a bit out of it, she felt herself wanted to close her eyes and relish in it's sweetness, in it's nostalgia but she didn't. She simply licked her lips, appearing as if she didn't give a good damn, which was partly true. It was an interesting offer, to kill a man but it seemed all too easy, she could do that on her own time, and she has, just for the hell of it.

The port was a nice touch though, she had to admit, but she never did it for the money. With the way she looked, she could easily open her own brothel. No, it was something deeper then that, it was something darker...to this day she was never entirely sure what is was. It didn't matter now, she was good at it.

They wanted something
The privateer bit wasn't lost on her either, that part didn't sit well. That was the catch.

As she poundered over this, Cyrus spoke again.

"Of course, you are not the only pirate that sails these seas. If you reject this offer, we will find someone else."

Robyn brow shot to her forehead and she laughed, like it was the funniest thing she'd ever heard.

"Oh that's rich."she said, shaking her head downward as she laughed.

" Do you honestly think I believe that? " She said, catching her breath, " By the Gods, Do you honestly believe that?" She said, and then suddenly she stopped, her face went dead and she grabbed Cryus by the collar, vioently and yanked him toward her, pulling him up against the bars, her lips centimeters from his face.

"Listen you pretentious peice of shit, Of course, I am not the only damned pirate who sails these seas but there is no one quite like me, is there? Your King, requested me specifically, that is why he was so willing to risk possible tension between Drake and the South Pacific,by releasing another King's prisoner, surely King Robert the Old knows nothing of this little proposistion, no and why is that? Because he needs me, my skill set. If he wanted some run of the mill pirate he would have got one." She said and released the man, and stepped away from the bars.

"I know of the Sea Vultures. A foolish name really, but that is a foolish man so it fits. That is what you get for hiring privateers....and speaking of foolish men, tell your King, since you are such a raging idiot, and are too damn foolish to have the proper answers to any questions I have, He can come and see me himself, or he can take offer, shove it up his royal arse, turn left and then go straight to hell." She said plainly, and took another bite of her peach.

"Well, Go on." She said, and shooed him with a flick of fingers as if speaking to a stray dog. "I've got things to do..."

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Character Portrait: Orys Baratheon Character Portrait: Moloch Markus Character Portrait: Deacon Lesseth
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The throne room of the Red Keep was silent as a crypt. The Fuarian dignitary knelt before the steps to the iron throne and consequently the line of Kingsguards, with an ornate looking jewel encrusted golden chalice. King Robert of the House Baratheon, first of his name, sat unmoving on his iron throne. His face was an unreadable mask that could be mistaken for displeasure or mere annoyance. His kingly stare flicked from the goblet to the foreign king and back again. Resigned to accept the gift Robert motioned for the cup and it was brought to him by one of his Kingsguard who inspected it carefully before handing it over to his Majesty. Robert gave the item a cursory glance before casually handing it to his brother who stood stoically at his right.

"I was told you were bloodthirsty, savage and thoroughly devoid of any semblance of courtly graces. You can imagine my disappointment at finding nothing more than nobles that wear leather instead of lace. Very well. I accept your gift, Your Majesty is too kind."

Robert said utterly bored with the entire preceding. He got to his feet, rising from the iron throne to loom over the hall like a great shadow.

"We have meat and mead in plenty. You are guests in my city and given your station are entitled to one of the estates just outside of the Red Keep reserved for guests of the crown. Boy!"

He barked calling for his squire. The young, place faced Lancel Casterly rushed to his kings side in an instant.

"Y-yes, Y-Your Grace?"

"Show the king and his men to the Manse by the sea. Should do them well for their stay."

"At once, Your Grace."

Lancel said respectfully before rising to his feet and escorting the foreign king and his retainers to the mansion that overlooked Blackwater Bay. Once the Fuarian's were gone Robert would hear no more matters of state. He would eat, drink himself into a stupor and enjoy the remainder of the evening in peace or there would be hell to pay.

Meanwhile on the tourney field in a pavilion of yellow and black Ser Orys Baratheon sat in an oaken chair, coated with with wolf pelts reading a book. He had removed his armor and was in a simple yet richly made quilted tunic. The color of the fabric was black as a crows wing.The only color breaking up the monotony of black was the golden stags that adorned the tunic as buttons. Orys had a fire growing in the braziers within the tent to cut the chill that was coming with the setting of the sun and he had a glass of Arbor Red Wine beside him that he had been casually sipping on as he read about the fantastical Caliphate of Andalusia. Orys was in the middle of a chapter describing the mighty rhinox which were massive beasts used as mounts by the Andulasian knights.

It was then that a familiar voice pulled Orys from the flat lands of the east and back to the tourney field of King's Landing.

"Is Prince Orys availabe or is he frequenting a paramour that I should know about,"

Orys shouldered past the guards standing outside his tent. His thick, heavily muscled frame caused the gold cloaks to nearly stumble from the rough bump. Orys set his sights on the king of Moloch before breaking into a wide smile and embracing the man as a friend and brother.

"Moloch!"

He said as cheerfully before releasing the king from his grasp and taking a step back.

"It's good to see you again, how long has it been?... Or should I say how long has it been Your Grace. Come, come, have a drink with me."

Orys said waiving the King of Drake into his tent where he set out a couple of mugs and filled them both with strong honeyed mead so the men could talk and catch up. It wasn't long before drink wasn't enough for the two men and Orys sent for food to be brought to them in his pavilion. Choice cuts of boar with lemon seasoning and spiced potatoes along with three roast quails, a leg of lamb, a cask of ale, a bowl of blueberries and raspberries, and finally a few sweet cakes for desert were laid out for them at their leisure and the old friends feasted and laughed joking all the while as night descended on King's Landing.

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Character Portrait: Orys Baratheon Character Portrait: Amelia Stormborn Character Portrait: Moloch Markus Character Portrait: Deacon Lesseth
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Night came and with it King's Landing slept. The commotion of the day muted to a low hum and the city of King's rested for the day ahead. The moon stood it's vigil as always and when it's watch came to an end the sun returned with a new day and promise of a spectacle like none the realm had seen before. Golden trumpets sounded as knights from all over the realm marched their magnificent warhorses to the tourney field. In the early morning hours the jousting pitch was already packed with spectators eager to see the arrival of the days champions. The tourney field was a length of sanded earth, packed down with a wooden fence separating where the jousting knights would come charging at one another. Along one side of the pitch was the finely crafted wooden stands, where the King, his Queen, his court, courtiers and royal guests would sit and witness the days events. On either end of the stands were massive carved stags prancing proudly with their magnificent antlers adorning their wooden heads like crowns. The other side of the field bore no seating but was open to the public and all members of realm who wished to bear witness to the days spectacle.

The crowned stag of Baratheon was everywhere from the massive tapestry sized banner that flew from over the kings seat in the center of the stands to the high standard poles on either side of the carved stags. Beside the royal sigil came all the others that earned high honors and respect. There was the golden lion of Lannister on it's crimson field and the grey direwolf of Stark on it's field of white. The golden rose of Tyrell amidst it's sea of green and the silver trout of Tully swimming through it's rivers of red and blue were there granting their beauty for all to see. There was the black hounds of Clegane on their yellow fields and the white moon and falcon of Arryn on a sky blue field. So many banners and colors the tourney goers no doubt felt as if they had stepped into a fever dream the sights and sounds of the tourney were so wonderous.

Then came fourth that which all had come to see, the knights in all their splendor. Champions in their brilliant, shining plate it was a beauty to behold such radiance. The high lords and ladies marveled at the warriors beneath their steel as did the small folk. The column of knights had men from all corners of the South Pacific. One of the first knights to be recognized was the well known Ser Beric Dondarrion in his black, heavy plate armor of riveted steel. Emblazoned on his chest and on his shield was the purple lightning bolt of his house. Down his back was a massive cloak of fine embroidery that depicted a nights sky with stars and lightning arcing down. Next came the monstrous Ser Gregor Clegane, so large he was called The Mountain That Rides. Following behind his brother was Sandor Clegane who was often called The Hound, no doubt for the sigil of his house and the ferocious helm he wore that had the appearance of a snarling hound.

As the Clegane brothers rode by the kings grace some heard Lord Petyr Baelish begin to take wagers that The Mountain would win the day. Next came Ser Hugh of the Vale, a young knight of only twenty who wore wonderfully enameled blue steel with a falcon helm and a magnificent sky blue cloak. After him was the only knight not from the South Pacific, Ser Jorah Mormont who served as the sworn shield of the Queen of the North Pacific Kingdom. She was seated just below King Robert Baratheon himself and Queen Cersei. On her right sat the King of Drake Moloch Markus who at the moment was listening to the King rave about his nephew who was no doubt soon to ride past.

At the end of the procession came the two men who were most expected to win the entire week long tourney. First was the knight of flowers, Ser Loras Tyrell. Where some knights were strong and others were cunning Ser Loras was above all beautiful. His armor was the finest plate many have ever seen, with forged roses adorning his shoulder pauldrons and vines that descended down to his gauntlets. His helm was wreathed in silver roses so masterfully crafted they appeared to be living plant made of shining metal. Flowing down his slender shoulders was a cloak of hand woven roses of varying colors giving it an almost rainbow appearance. Many of the lady's in attendance and maidens swooned as he rode past granting them a chivalrous nod or a wave that sent their hearts a flutter.

Then he came, The Shadow of Axel, Robert come again, Ser Orys Baratheon and with his entrance the people erupted in a deafening roar of cheers. Clearly the favored to win and the crowds chosen champion. He wore heavy steel plate of the highest caliber that shined in the morning sun. The plate was enameled beautifully with stags prancing proudly up his chest. His large frame posed a heroic figure atop his massive destrier whose coat and mane were black as obsidian. His helm was adorned with fearsome looking stag's antlers and his large shoulder pauldrons had the images of charging stags hammered in with exquisite detail. Flowing down his broad back was a cloak of yellow and black so long it covered much of the war horse he rode upon. The king leapt to his feet cheering loudly and pointing proudly as Orys rode by. So excited he was he spilled his wine all over the Queen's fine crimson dress and hardly seemed to notice, even as she walked off fuming.

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Character Portrait: Orys Baratheon Character Portrait: Captian Robyn Sheva of the Harbinger Character Portrait: Moloch Markus
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Moloch listened patiently as the King went on and on about his nephew. It seemed to him that his suspicions were being confirmed at this very moment. King Robert Baratheon had no trueborn children. All the children that he had had by Queen Cersei had been miscarried, contributing to the tension between the two. Orys, however, was healthy and a proven warrior and leader. His kinship with the king was beyond doubt. Orys was the obvious candidate to succeed Robert should he die, but Robert had not named him his heir. If he did not name him an heir before he died, it was likely that the Casterly's would attempt to take the throne through a document conveniently drafted by the king shortly before his death giving Cersei the crown matrimonial. This would give the queen and her future descendants the legal right to reign, not his kin, should she outlive him. He doubted Robert was aware of this, however.

"I do not know, Robert. There is no greater soldier in my service than Eirene and I gave her leave to compete if you recall," Moloch noted. Following Orys was Eirene, dressed in dark plate armor forged from fossilized dragonbone emblazoned with gold. Her helm matched her armor, a long gold dragon curving over the top. She did not draw as much acclaim as Orys Baratheon, but her gender and clear foreign nationality seemed to draw some interest.

"I would wager 100 dragons on her winning the tourney and 150 dragons on her winning the melee," Moloch offered with a slight smile, "Though, I have to warn you. She is still angry from a... Disagreement she and I had."

"Hmph. That's putting it mildly," Cyrus chuckled from his right. Moloch smiled slightly. Today had been interesting.

Cyrus undid the spell, allowing Moloch to appear from the shadows so that he could talk to the pirate. He looked thoughtful as he examined the pirate. She was beautiful, he noted, despite being trapped in this dungeon for so long, but she looked fierce, like a dragon ready to tear his heart out.

"It is not often that I grant the requests of one who acts so presumptiously. But I am intrigued. I had thought my offer was a generous one, but this is better. With both Cyrus and I here, we can create a magical contract between you and myself."

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Character Portrait: Captian Robyn Sheva of the Harbinger Character Portrait: Moloch Markus
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Robyn stood at the docks of Flea Bottom, her hand clenched into a tight fist which held the peach pit.

This was were they first met.

Just to her left was where he found her, rummaging through chum, hoping for something edible.
"Come now, lass. you don't want to be eating that now. Have you bringing it all back up within the hour. Here..."
Robyn closed her eyes. She had every intention on leaving this place but being back here after so long, seeing Davos again. It brought back alot of memories.

Robyn found old tavern where she used to sleep, the old vent that kept her somewhat warm was still there, and still warm.

She smirked some and made her way inside and took in the familiar scent of rum and cooked meats.

No one gave her a passing glance as this was always a place for smugglers, small time pirates and other criminals. None of them expected the most notorious Flea Bottom criminal to walk in, She'd been incarcerated for well over 3 years.

She took a seat at the bar ordered a drink.

She looked down at the rum in the glass and sighed.

What to do?

"A Magical Contract...I don't deal in magic." Robyn said, unphased by the King suddenly appearing. He was attractive, there was no doubt in that. He was one of those men that she had hoped would visit her in the brothels, handsome, with a charming, smelled nice too, the,sort that didn't seem like the needed to be in a brothel, not like the soggy sailors the reeked of fish that she was forced to deal with.

As handsome as he is, she hated magic. It sucked the fun right out of everything. "You gotta give me something better? You want me to kill a man, become a privateer using magic, and for what? A ship I can easily acquire on my own, The dock of my own is a nice touch but not enough when magic is involved." She said. "I hate magic, there is too much give and take with it and as you know giving isn't exactly my strong suit." She said with narrowed eyes. "So tell me what this is really about, The Sea Vultures are an easy fix, a bullet to the brain will solve any problem they cause, but no, you want something more, so out with it, What is it that you really want, Moloch." She said, purposely breaking etiquette, just to get under his skin. It may or may not work but it amused her.

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Character Portrait: Captian Robyn Sheva of the Harbinger Character Portrait: Moloch Markus
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"So tell me what this is really about, The Sea Vultures are an easy fix, a bullet to the brain will solve any problem they cause, but no, you want something more, so out with it, What is it that you really want, Moloch."

She was prejudiced against magic and didn't seem to trust him. Pity. This was going to be much more difficult than he thought.

"I want someone I can trust. There is a war coming and I don't much fancy my entire mercenary fleet turning against me at the worst possible moment. Such incidents have changed the courses of many wars in history and I don't desire to be on the receiving end. The contract works both ways, you know. We both will have to keep our word."

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Character Portrait: Captian Robyn Sheva of the Harbinger Character Portrait: Moloch Markus
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Robyn mused over this. "A War," She said like she was excited about it. " Now, why didn't you say so, see if you would have said that earlier then I would have told you no much quicker." She said her expressiong dropping. "You think I wish to be involved with the meaningless squabbling of Royals? Hardly. Then, I'll be bound to you by whatever bloodmagic, you have me contracted in? I don't think so." She said and moved away from the cell bars, but stopped just short of her bed. "And I'll tell you this now, Handsome, you can never trust me...even with a magical contract..." She said quite matter of factly. "Whatever your word might be, isn't worth a damn to me, Magic or not. Trust is a myth and a waste of time." She said and took a seat on her bed, and lay back.

"Perhaps if you dropped the magical contract, I'll consider it. Given your honesty and any excuse to tear a place asunder is fine by me, but no magic. If not, you can move on to the next pirate...I honestly don't give a damn."


Robyn sighed, and scanned the room for the Syrus of Fuaria and his King. They had secrets they wanted to share too.

Never before had she been this easy to reach...it was annoying.

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Character Portrait: Captian Robyn Sheva of the Harbinger Character Portrait: Moloch Markus
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Moloch hummed in thought. This pirate was going to be difficult, perhaps more difficult than it was worth. He could never trust her and if what Cyrus told him was true, the Fuarians were interested in her too. Would they try to steal the entire fleet from him and turn them against him? He would have to take precautions. He smiled at her in a deceptively friendly manner.

"Very well, I will drop the magical contract. However, I should warn you. I have never lost at games of power and deceit. Those who have thought to beat me are dead."

This was not an idle boast of a pampered prince. He was remembering a particular event in his past.


Moloch watched the combatants while thinking about his kingdom's strength at sea. It was fortunate that his navy was growing despite his people's dislike for the sea.

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Character Portrait: Captian Robyn Sheva of the Harbinger Character Portrait: Moloch Markus
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"Very well, I will drop the magical contract. However, I should warn you. I have never lost at games of power and deceit. Those who have thought to beat me are dead."

Robyn snickered, stood up for her bed, and stuck her hand out of the bars. " Then I suppose we have a deal, but I should warn you, I never play a game I can't win..."


Robyn knocked back the last of her grog and sighed. It was then she remembered something.

Davos had a son....What was the chaps name...?

Mathos...Ah yes... That'll be where she'll start but first to deal with this Fuarian business, if he didn't hurry along, she'd be gone and much harder to find, it wasn't like she was exactly welcomed in South Pacific.

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Character Portrait: Orys Baratheon Character Portrait: Amelia Stormborn Character Portrait: Moloch Markus
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The King erupted in roaring laughter as he clapped Moloch on the back. The Dragon Knight, in her fearsome dragon bone armor struck an intimidating figure indeed, even for a woman yet Robert was ill convinced any knight here assembled could pose a legitimate threat to his beloved nephew.

"I'll take that bet! I'll take it and your money when it's over."

Robert leaned forward and put one of his big, meaty hands on Moloch's shoulder as he pointed to his nephew who was riding out to prepare for his first match of the tourney against Ser Devon Tarly.

"See there, lad? Not a man living who can fight better, ride better or kill better. Listen to them."

Robert remarked motioning to the crowd of onlookers. Noble and commoner alike rose in applause and cheers as Orys took the field. His massive black destrier, armored like his rider in bright, shining steel and sporting the colors of House Baratheon seemed to enjoy the praise and brayed proudly. Robert was well into his cups but he was not so drunk as to be speaking complete nonsense, the crowd did love Orys Baratheon.

"Hear how they call his name? Chant for him? The shits love him. He's won already."

The crowd fell into a still silence as The Knights charged. The galloping horses, weighed down by heavy armament thundered down the field. The lances bore fourth like lightning bolts ready to clash. The silence before impact was deafening, the roars after were maddening. Ser Devon Tarly of Horn Hill was struck cleanly in the chest with such force he was thrown from his saddle to crash into the dirt. Ser Orys Baratheon took his victory lap with pride and dignity as the crowd assailed him with cheers. He paused for a brief moment to look at his uncle the king and salute, raising his lance in the air and nodding before riding off to rest for his next match.

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Character Portrait: Orys Baratheon Character Portrait: Captian Robyn Sheva of the Harbinger Character Portrait: Moloch Markus Character Portrait: Deacon Lesseth
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#, as written by Arik223
Syrus made his way out of the cells, just in time to see his king being led to their estate. Syrus nodded to his king and rejoined their delegation. The place they were given surely had its charm. Once they were all settled, Deacon called Syrus and Leon into the room. "How did it go with the pirate?" Deacon said sternly to Syrus. Syrus had a sort of grin on his face. "She was just as I expected. She doesn't work for anyone, her free will is far too powerful for anyone to contain. Although my lord, King Moloch also has his eyes on the pirate." Deacon gave Syrus a serious look, this could either be very good or very bad. "King of Drake. Of course he is up to something. Although he may be beneficial to my cause.".

"King Moloch may be a good ally my lord. He can be a good tool for us to use. Although he is stronger then he may seem, and his young age may be misleading." Leon spoke from behind Deacon.

Syrus nodded his head. "On that note my king, I must go. She will surely show up at the inn, and I am sure you and Leon have the tourney to attend to." Deacon nodded at Syrus at the man was on his way.

Deacon and Leon left with the group early in the morning, making their way to the kings tourney. This city did have a certain charm, not that Deacon cared much about aesthetics. Deacon his man did arrive a bit late, most of the knights had already entered and the crowed roared for them. Deacon and Leon made their way to congratulate King Robert on a fine show. Deacon's theatrics would have to last a little bit longer, there was still business to be taken care off, and many more kings and queen's yet to arrive and to speak too. Moloch was one of them, and Deacon noticed the man right away next to King Robert. Deacon wasn't exactly sure where he would sit to watch the show, since he wasn't "formally" invited. "Your highness." Deacon said behind King Robert. "Thank you again for accepting me in your city. Marvelous knights in your land." Deacon turned to Moloch with a smile. "King of Drake." Deacon bowed to Moloch. Surely the man Moloch sent has warned his king of Deacon's plans.




Syrus made his way to the inn as soon as the Fuarian Delegation made way to the tourney. Syrus's hunches were rarely wrong, he knew the pirate would be there. His offer was most intriguing, and he always knew how to choose his words carefully. Syrus walked through the front door, he wasn't surprised that the pirate didn't much to hide herself. The tourney would require most of the king's man, she couldn't choose a better time to escape. Syrus took a seat next to Captain Sheva. "Glad to see you made it out okay, but then again, I had no doubts in your skills."

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Character Portrait: Orys Baratheon Character Portrait: Moloch Markus
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"See there, lad? Not a man living who can fight better, ride better or kill better. Listen to them."

Moloch smiled slightly at the kings' words as the crowd cheered for his friend. Orys already possessed the people's love. Now, he would just have to prove his strength and in that, the king's nephew did not disappoint. He knocked down his first opponent to the sound approval o the crowd.

"Oh, I do not doubt that. But how will he fare against a woman?" he mused. He watched as match after match was won or lost by the combatants. He smiled slightly as he saw Eirene unseat a man twice her size from his horse, to the crowd's approval. He smirked at Robert.

"The crowd may love Orys, but there is nothing like and up and coming newcomer. They haven't faced each other, yet, however. You may back out of our best if you wish," Moloch stated.