Langsmerth

"...and now, let me show your majesty." Virgil ignored the old mans words as they were drowned out by the clank of the guards armour walking behind them and the echo that filled the hall as they walked through at a brisk pace. He was still young, busy chasing women, writing poetry and playing with swords, his fathers death was an most unexpected event. "Your majesty." the kind old man said trying to get the boys fleeting attention, he turned around raising an eyebrow "You've seemed...to have forgotten where the throne room is?" he asked ever so softly. Virgil has been away from the capital for many years enjoying time in the Marshes and hasn't seen his father during that time, now it was too late. "This way your majesty" as he bowed, fearing he has angered the young king.

He sat on the throne, it was uncomfortable, hard and unforgiving on any kings buttocks. The only thing keeping him awake was the fairly attractive servant just across the room, she notices it and flicks her hair. "Wine!" as he raised his hands, bluntly interrupting the old mans detailing of the coronation ceremony. "His late majesty's coronation was a spectacle, hundreds of thousands of people lined the streets...the Red Guard convoy.....it would be most wise to make it happen again your majesty, why? you may ask to, capture the hearts of the people and of your vassals."Virgil placed the goblet down, taking a breath. "Yes...yes, go organise that." The old man scribbled onto the scroll. "I nearly forgot among this excitement, your majesty, the invitations."
"Then, send them out?" the mans enthusiasm was too much for Virgil to bear. "Lord Hightower, Lord Sundregn, Lord Stormkeer, Lord Rondalion, seems to be in good order your majesty, i will send them out at once."
"Dismissed." Now he was alone the stone throne pressing even harder against his backside. He reminisced of the days gone by.

The sun shone through the small window hole, lighting up the dim room. Last night was a typical night, drinking til he couldn't even open his eyes, bedding every good looking servant there was, fondling with lordly daughter, what can they do? He is King. Virgil got out of bed, albeit with some difficulty, hangovers always suck. There was a knock on the door "Your Majesty, Lord Eddermarch comes!" Virgil frantically looked around to find his robe in order to cover up his manhood.

Qunten Eddermarch was his fathers most trusted (and true) man, rewarded the most fertile and richest Bannship in the Lowlands. The man was not the same since the last time they met a decade ago, his hair grizzled, skin wrinkly, time taking its toll. There was a moment of awkwardness as they both tried to find words. Qunten's eyes gave it all away, he was surprised at the same time with sorrow. It seemed like they both knew what each other were thinking, nostalgia of the old days. Qunten was like a uncle to Virgil sometimes more loving and caring than his own father. At the age of 7, Virgil was sent to the Eddermarch Household to train to become a Knight as it is customary for all able boys of high nobles to become knights. Frankly, Virgil was no knight, always counting and digging into books preferring rather to read about swords than use them. Though that did not bother Qunten who never beat him or treated him harshly, a very kind and understanding man he was. Wine pored.

"Rough night?" his voice was weak not booming as he remembered. Virgil took some time to think still dizzy from the wine. "Aye...so good sir what brings you here?" Qunten sipped some wine to wet his throat "I just wanted to see if everything was alright here, bloody rotting to death and to make matters worse I'm sitting all day in my castle, gotta get some fresh air." Something must of happened to him, i no longer see that signature grin nor the relaxed face only lines upon lines. "Eh, you ain't no boy anymore, i was like you" he pointed to the fair maiden standing shyly in the corner "chasing women, drinking my heart out, but then duty called i settled down, made three strong sons and a beautiful daughter." his tone grew more harsh "Tales of your great adventures are spread far and wide" he said mockingly "You are a man, your father did not raise you to become a whore pusher, maker be damned." Uncle Qunten is known for his directness, no one could steer his words, never softening or twisting them, Qunten the Honest they called him and maybe the very few who truly deserve such title. Virgil sat there, silent there was nothing to say nothing to refute the mans words "Clean your act up, boy." Qunten stood up and left and there he sat as King.

Today was court where the King himself hears the problems of the locals and pleads from the lords of the realm, the least glamorous part of being King. Thieves being sentenced, debts being repaid all of that bored him. "Ah...ah your majesty, two days ago my son was beaten by this man and stole our salt bag...please be just." The lady's son was badly bruised, eyes swollen. "Your name thief." Virgil pointed at him, signally to stand up. "Your majesty, i am no thief my name is Theo."
"Then please explain why the boy is so bruised?"
"Maybe he had a great fall, your majesty?" he said smirking.
"No! liar! that is our salt bag!" the woman shouted.
"Silence." Virgil boomed, everyone froze.
"Theo i wish to ask one question, is this really your bag?"
"Of course your majesty, i would never lie in front of you."
The woman then started crying "My poor son..." Virgil was unsure of what to do, he sat there looking at the bunch.
"Your majesty?"
"A slight moment please Deaglan."
Suddenly Virgil stood up and drew his sword waving it around. "Milord??" the woman said. "I have decided to split the bag into two...that solves everything right? Give me the bag." The woman then cried out "My son! Justice your majesty" He then told her to stand up. "Theo what is this bag used for?"
"Coins and trinkets your majesty."
Virgil then cut it in half "Deaglan, lick it." the squire stood there puzzled "I said, lick it" the squire took the piece and licked it with a sour face "Salty, very salty." Theo began to turn red, eyes darting around. "Well..." then he was interrupted by Theo "Your majesty! MERCY!" he knelled and cried "Hundred crowns for compensation, a month in the mines, take him guards."

It was night a meeting between local lords was being held at the keep. "My lords and ladies if i could have a word..." Ostel stood up, he started to circle the table "Rumors flow through my ears all the time but I've heard the most foul one yet." He paused as if he was performing in a play to engage the audience. "Your majesty, I've heard from the merchants in town...Lord Hightower has doubled his fleet, a indication of war." The table began to shake as they discussed "That dirty pirate bastard is always up to something!" one person shouted, half the table nodded and seconded "Aye, your majesty, 1000 crowns to the man that gets rid of him!" Virgil raised his hand "We will know for sure when he comes for the coronation..."
"He ain't gonna come!"
"Yeah!"
"Do something about it!"
At this point the meeting was getting out of hand, people cursing at each other, hands on scabbard. "Silence!" boomed Qunten no voice was more true. Virgil nodded at Qunten saying thanks. What did he hate the most? Rowdy people with power. "The invitations that were sent out to all vassals of the realm should by now reached every single one of them, now it is their choice to come or not, i estimate their arrivals will be within three to six days."

Virgil walked onto the balcony looking out at port. "Lord Hightower is in town." Ostel muttered with a hint of resentment while continuing on with his rant. "This bodes ill, who would of thought the most infamous pirates in Penumbrian history shows up first at the Kings coronation, the maker is screwing around with us." The sun was too strong for Virgil's eyes, he shaded it from the sun with his hand trying to get a clearer glimpse of the huge vessel a few kilometers off shore. "That is the Aspi..." Ostel cut in "Aspidochelone, the largest warship in current existence, and it ain't that slow either your majesty." Suddenly a guardsman came in " Your majesty there's this very large bearded man causing some trouble in old town, a brawl just broke out like ten minutes ago." Virgil shook his head "As they say, where ever Typhon goes trouble follows very quickly behind." Virgil returned to his seat ordering servants to get him wine. "Perhaps his intentions are not malevolent, maybe he is genuine." Virgil suggested only to be criticised by Ostel "Argh, a thousand pardons your majesty. Typhon is one crafty bastard, he didn't become Warden of Hightower through right of law or succession, you know the whole story. It could be that his early arrival is part of his scheme. Right now he can't do anything to you right now but wait he will do something after he leaves." Virgil couldn't help but to take his word. "Still i am surprised, wouldn't he be risking his head." to which Ostel scornfully replied "Those savages are a strange bunch, I'd keep a good distance if i was you your majesty." Qunten stood silently across the room, eyes unaware of the world Virgil couldn't help but notice. "Whatcha lookin at boy?" Virgil straightened himself up "You look lonely over there." Qunten smirked "I can't help but think, your father had a much easier time when he started out, all the Wardens were tame like dogs, Hightower was not run by a bloodthirsty pirate. Now it's most unfortunate that you had to deal with their overly ambitious children eh?" Ostel was clearly irritated by the mans casualness towards the King never bowing or respectful gestures, it felt like an insult but dared not say to him. "I know, the Maker knows there will be a conflict, the problem who will start it first..." Qunten's words were cold but true they struck Virgil hard, as a person who has never held any more responsibility than knowing when to wake up and count money it was hard to comprehend.

Virgil opened up the old door, it was the abandoned room where two decades ago he lived. It was located away from most of the high activity areas, away from the gossip and the glamour, this area was where servants and the executioner lived. For much of his life he lived among the ordinary people and grew accustomed, sometimes he preferred the company of the poor than of the rich. Even though every single human is capable of betrayal, I'd rather have a poor fellow stab me in back, at least he'll do it himself. he thought as he looked around the moss covered walls. Virgil walked out and a large man gave him a good fright. "Your majesty it is most unwise for a person such as yourself to roam the castle without proper security." His voice was deep but strangely gentle he was bold and stood atleast 2 meters, perhaps the tallest man he has met in person, he wore black robes with its hood off. "Sorry good sir you gave me a slight fright." The man bowed "My humble apologies, i am one of the several executioners that reside here." Executioners were well paid individuals but were shunned by society and was unable to live with the common populace spending most of their day sharpening their tools and reading books. The most intimidating feature was the sword that hanged on his back, it had no sheathe, there were large letters that bore the phrase "I Spare No-one" with a detailed etching of the makers hand symbolising justice. "I kindly ask if i could accompany you back to the main quarters." How could he protest? "Of course, maybe stay for some wine while you're at it." The executioner bowed his head "You are most kind but i must get back to my duties once you get there, please my apologies your majesty." His name is Klaus the Executioner.

Virgil sat in his study anxious for the ceremony which was only a few days away. "Deaglan go and fetch Tigernan for me, thank you."
"With haste your majesty." he said as he bowed. Tigernan was the most knowledgeable man when it came to noble houses and the Wardens, he was very old aged no less than 80. "I am here as you summoned, majesty..." Virgil pulled out a seat for him inviting him to take a seat. "I find myself dumbstruck when it came to knowing my own vassals, please enlighten me a good king should know his own people well."
"Who'd you like to start with?" the old man scratched his head and opened up a large book that detailed all the worthy houses of the realm since a hundred years ago.
"Lord Sundregn, Vaino Sivareth son of Gale, please." Tigernan flicked through a dozen or so pages then he examined the page. "House Sivareth is a fairly young but the most competent rulers of the Marshes in history, i dare you to find any mentionable wrongdoings and pin it on Sivareth. As for Vaino himself he is aged 32, described as relatively fit, brown hair and hazel eyes. Marshmen couldn't have a more better leader they are all content and of general knowledge the Marshes is the most safest place in the whole isle. I could go on but that would take a whole day." Virgil nodded Well this is a person i actually look forward to meet. he thought "Interesting, I'd like to hear about Lord Stormkeer, if i am correct Maul Theongor?" jk
"Indeed, Maul was the second son to Isu Theongor, in his fathers eyes and most of the highlands he would not rule, ever in his life time. Unfortunately or fortunately for some, Isu's eldest died then Isu died without another heir but Maul. There's not much written about him but he has only recently been on his wardenship a similar situation as yours."
"Enlighten me about this 'Ice Queen'"
"Many lowlanders cringe when that name is spoken a staple in children's folktales. Much of her past is shrouded in mystery and controversy, according to her birthdate she is no more than a year older than you. Don't let her age and beauty fool you, i say without doubt that she can give all the wardens a run for their money."
"Hard to believe, the only women i met were those ones that were good in bed." Virgil chuckled "I beg you not think that...she is devious, a devil." he warned Virgil sternly. There was no more to say Virgil led Tigernan out personally walking him back to his quarters.

The party arrived at the capitol a few days after staying at Brookin. He and his guards dismounted at the stables at the gate before continueing. The people of Langsmerth seemed to be worried and after passing through the western gate he learned that Lord Hightower had brought his navy to the city's port. It sounded troubling indeed, an invasion though would be a poor strategical move to start a war so the city was in no actual danger. He asked a local guard where the slums were for he intended to pass through there on his way to the castle.

Slums were a part of every city though they varied in poverty. In Sundregn, Vaino attacked unemployment with his mission to increase production. He had ordered his guards to, his a hand on their sabers as well, to give five crowns to each beggar, prostitute, and orphan they found while repeating the same message. "If you would like to start anew, use this to travel to Sundregn. Good luck to you." Between the party they party they had one thousand crowns. Most likely the people who recieved the crowns would tell others and even if many who recieved the crowns would not leave, those who heard about these incidents would try to travel to Sundregn. His guards gathered to him an hour after arriving at the slums and they continued to walk to the castle.

Upon entering the doors of the royal palace he and his gaurds disarmed themselves and only three of his twelve entered with him. Those three were the most skilled of the already skilled unit. They could easily disarm and kill guards with out a weapon. He entered the meeting room to see a giant of a man in poor attire. Vaino approached the giant with his guards behind him. "What is this? Mercenaries to see the new king. I believe it is a bit haste since a war has not been officially declared." He smirked extending his hand for a shake. "Vaino Sivareth." He told the giant, expecting a name in return.

Maul dragged his tired body up the steps of Boison House, the large stone fortress on the outskirts of Langsmerth that has been part of the family for more than a century. "If there is one thing I hate, it is long rides on horseback!"
Bann Liutus grinned that sly grin of his and opened the door for Maul. "I arranged that you see the Lady White Whisper, she has important information to share with you my Lord."
"Excellent, I always enjoyed her company while I stayed here, if only she wasn't so damn secretive and elusive! Can you also inform Declan that I want him to report either tonight, or tomorrow morning first thing, so I can inspect the ledger with all the names and their locations.
"As you wish my Lord"

Shrugging off his heavy fur coat Maul dropped onto a large chair in the solar. It had been a long day filled with bad weather and even worse roads! He made a mental note to do something about the state of Highland roads. Maul's eyes caught the huge tapestry that decorated one side of the large room. The history of the Theongor's unfolded on the beautifully embroidered cloth starting with Cortuan the Great about two hundred years ago. Cortuan Theongor led the Highland Banns in a revolt against the Martican seafarers who were extracting tribute from Penumbria. They had invaded and set up fortresses along the coast, the largest being Arv Stormkeer, from which they contolled most of Penumbria. Cortuan's attack on Arv Stormkeer was the catalyst which ignited the whole of Penumbria into revolt and enabled them to drive the Marticans away. The Marticans fled to Hightower Island and it took many months to finally get rid of them which required a concerted effort of the Highlanders, Lowlanders, and Marsh people. It brought the people together and strengthened the crown in Langsmerth including the house of De Hugh, to the dismay of Cortuan. He wanted the Highlanders to become independent from the monarchy. "I don't look anything like him!" Maul thought.

A figure appeared in front of the fireplace and pulled Maul from his reverie. A nice figure. Always dressed in a way to show off her figure the Lady White Whisper sat down in the chair opposite Maul. "How nice to see that the boy has become a man! We shall have to wait for the hourglass to pass before a judgement can be made on his worth."
"My Lady, it is a pleasure. Please enlighten me, what information do you bring?"
"Silly boy!! All hasty and to the point. Please, indulge me, how is the Kingdom of the Clouds? Where have you led the realm? To strength, or to weakness? Oh, and how was your journey? Full of sweetness, or bitter as the poison from the marshes? Did you skirt the ocean on your way, and see its creatures have their say?"
"Please, I have no time or strength for your games and riddles! What have you to share? Speak plainly so a man can understand"
The woman removed her veil to reveal her astounding beauty. Eyes in shades of brown so pure and deep a man cannot help but drown in them. A perfect face crowned with rich black hair that flowed over her exquisite shoulders and beautiful arms. Maul was speechless, and she knew it. "My Lord, the throne is in jeopardy, the Hightower Pirate has a fleet ready to fight and an ambition to match. Some of my clients inform me that he has stationed armed men along the coast, but some have been intercepted by the Ice Queen. But, more disconcerting, Lord Sundregn is building an army at an alarming rate. It appears they both have war in mind."
"This is the information you have for me? I knew before I left home!"
"My Lord is perceptive, but still needs to learn discretion and patience...I fear both of those threats are containable in comparison to the Ice Queen. The pirate can never rule Penumbria, the people will never stand for it. We all tolerate his outrageous behaviour so long as it stays in Hightower, that is as far as it goes. Lord Sundregn might be building a larger and in the process weaker army, but he can never sustain one for a long enough time to tame Penumbria into submission. The Ice Queen is in command of the best equipped forces and rules over most of the food produced in the Isles. She has direct access to the young King, and can easily remove him from power. She has an extensive spy network with tentacles in almost every Bannship, including yours. Her family history enables her to step into the role of Queen of Penumbria without causing any scandal or calls of illegitimacy.
I wish to caution you my Lord, do not trust her. In the next few days we shall know what plans the Pirate and Lord Sundregn have, if possible we should not alienate them. Do not commit yourself to any cause yet. In the meantime, support the young King, maybe he can surprise us all."

Several servants scurried around to set up drinks and seats for the tired men. "His majesty shall be here shortly, please enjoy the finest wines in the world from the Marshes which i believe his Lordship tastes very frequently." the servant bowed to Vaino but gave no heed to Typhon. An old man stormed in donned in full plate and hair well groomed. It was Qunten. "Greetings your lordships, excuse his majesty for being late..." he sat down with both of men and smiled. "I trust that you bear worthy gifts for his most gracious majesty?" Qunten leaned in a bit more "The gifts you have hopefully will please his majesty and put yourselves in good light." he mockingly implied rebellion but doubted they picked up on it. The drinks came...

---

Virgil walked in with a dozen guardsmen. He was dressed with bright red velvet jacket and loose fitting black pants with the royal crown. It was really casual for a king. "Lord Sundregn and Lord Hightower, finally we all get to know each other." Virgil pulled out a seat and sat between Qunten and Typhon. "Good lords we are still waiting on Lady Rondalion and Lord Stormkeer, shortly you will be shown your quarters, respecting your privacy you will be able to station your own men in your respective quarters."
"For now let us drink and know each other well."

Vaino turned to the man who spoke. The new king, Virgil, who of which he bowed to. "It is a pleasure to finally meet you Prince Virgil. I am sorry about your father, his death was ill timed. Now...as I walked through the streets I heard about some ships that were outiside the city. I trust that nothing is out of order? He asked the Virgil. The boy was only a prince since he had not officially been crowned as the king. He pulled out a seat and sat across from the prince. He was a bit tired from the journey.

He glanced at the giant who was Lord Hightower. The man had been increasing is navy significantly lately. Vaino, of course, kept tabs on all of his neihbors, especially Hightower. After all Hightower had a larger navy than anyone else so raids were a threat. It was a good thing Vaino had a garrison at God's Reach to keep an eye out on the coast or else Hightower would be able to raid coastal villages freely.

Virgil was not sure if Vaino was screwing around but he replied "Not at all i believe they are Lord Hightower's grand flagship and escort." Virgil came in closer to Vaino, he raised his glass "Cheers for the good of the realm." and to Typhon also. "You know good sir, I lived in the Marshes for as long as i lived here, a glass of thick Marsh brew and bright red wine every night was standard and i must comment, Sundregn brothels are the finest." He did not mean to insult but to test his waters.

"No no no I'm not drinking any sissy wine I want something stronger, Haven't been up to brothel for a quite a few years since before I was married, And forgive my language I still have bad habits from I was growing up so if I use commoner terms don't get mad"He said as he laughed. " Don't worry I brought make it here weapon schematics of my latest weapon on my ships very useful if you want to put them on top fort" and Laid a roll of parchment on the table. "Shame on you swamp Lord bringing weapons to meeting with the king even i know that you give the guards your weapons, see all I have with me is a stick in my men only have their fists."

"Forgive me Lord I'm going to speak candidly, I'm sure you've heard the rumors about me I'm lowborn, that I'm the king of criminals, And I'm at utterly ruthless to my enemies, As I've heard that your a bastard, that your womanizer and a drunk, and that you don't have the will to control the four Hounds your father kept in check. I'm sure you don't like the rumors about yourself as I don't like about me so let's make first impressions based on this conversation. First you should wipe Out Your Court, kill, banish, retire anyone that you wouldn't put any trust to protect your child. As much don't trust any of us lords you definitely shouldn't trust any parasites, perhaps an advisor that maybe came to you as soon as your father died hoping to gain favor or advise you on the best course of action. Someone that would wait until the perfect time to slip poison to you when you killing instantly or killing you slowly doesn't matter maybe even taking in your Successor and molding them in his image."

"That doesn't mean you trust us at least three of us could hold you off for years maybe indefinitely if we chose to. The Lord of the mountain killing your army off in the narrow mountain pass, the Lord in the swamp hitting you after you when you get Swamp fever from the insects or fallen pits of mud or kill your army when they take off their armor because it's just too hard to move, And me I could hit and run you for years with your ships I outnumber you 5 to I make some of the best ship and ship weapon and attack on me would cost to you too much too much time and resources to rebuild after a failed attack."

"To show that you had fire, the drive to be better or at least as good as your father you need to show Everyone else that you have it. Kill your Court replace it with trusted that's one way. Could kill us four But that would start a war you can't win and I'm sure we all have commanders all competent enough with the wage war and that would be a problem. though the third way it always find another nation maybe get more land for your Kingdom" He said this with a grin the predator shows when prey with the arm reach, and when he talked about the swamps defenses he winked at this his fellow lord right next to him.

Virgil was about to reply to Vaino's question when the giant spoke. Everyone was silent listening to his hard voice. "Audacious!" Qunten pulled out his sword and pointed it Typhons neck. Guards came in and were ready to pounce. "Pfft, a bunch of bollocks..." before Qunten could go on Virgil stood up "Enough!" he signaled the guards back to their posts, Qunten sheathed his sword without protest. Ostel stood in the corner silent, his face red and had his hand on his dagger, the atmosphere was heating up in an attempt to defuse the situation Virgil thanked Typhon and then examined the blueprints. "I've heard tales and seen them on many ships but never had i seen the actual plans to make them, amazing. Ostel please sent them to Tigernan for copying."
"As you wish your majesty." he stormed out of the room. Typhon was a distasteful person to Virgil but hospitality must be maintained and he had to made sure that no harm came to them to build credibility. "Let us finish off our drinks and you will be shown to your quarters where you will spend your time at till the end of the ceremony, do check by the library our librarian and historian Tigernan is an interesting person to speak to about history and the likes."

The journey from Arv Rondalion to Langsmerth had been if not a pleasant one, at least a tolerable one. The weather had been treacherous but finally after five days of riding and stopping to make bed along the way in the small towns and passing villages they had arrived at Langsmerth at long last.

“Announce Lord Rondalion.” Murdock command the guard stationed at the large doors to the Great Meeting Hall.

Soon after arriving at the Palace, Isodell had wasted no time in gaining an interview with the new King. Her curiosity was too unmanageable as was her men's. But more so hers. She needed to know what kind of man he was. Though her informants had informed her he was surprisingly capable though maybe a little green and unused to such great responsibilities. Isodell wanted to see for herself whether he lived up to the information she was provided. There was nothing more so annoying then being given false intelligence thus it would also let her know whether she needed to replace her sources in the Palace in the near future.

“Where is Lord Rondalion?” Questioned the large guard, a frown creasing his thick brow as he eyed the group with the woman at the fore.

“You need not worry about that.” Isodell answered haughtily. “Just do what you are paid to do.”

The guard's frown turned mutinous at having been talked down to by woman but any words of rebuke he might have had died on his lips as his eyes flickered to the large group of solid men behind her clad in mail with swords at their sides. Instead he simply nodded and turned to open the grand doors.

“Your Majesty.” He bowed and gestured with a hand behind him. “My Lord Rondalion, the Warden of the Lowlands.”

Isodell swept in on a cloud of blue and purple silks that was her gown. A deep scarlet velvet cloak rested on her delicate shoulders and a long veil made of white net attached by a diamond encrusted ring adorning her pale hair masked her beauty. Her Knights close behind her.

“The Witch!” A woman's voice gasped and the hysteric whispers ensued en masse.

“Tis' the Ice Queen. She'll freeze you to death with her glare and those devil purple eyes!” Spoke another voice, as all eyes in the room rested sharply on her like the pointed ends of daggers.

A smile cracked across the face at the frightened whispers of the Courtiers. How very amusing, she thought in delight, that these people should fear her.

“Aye, it is the Witch, the Widow FitzWarren.

“Your Majesty.” Isodell said in a clear cut voice of obeisance that hushed all noise; stopping in the center of the room she curtsied deeply.

But it was no ordinary curtsy. A painful Court Curtsy that she had not preformed since she was a child and had visited Langsmerth with her father as a child. It had seemed easier then, when she weighed little more then a puppy. But right now it was painstaking work not to collapse on the spot right there. Yet, Isodell did not let her affliction appear on her features. She would never show any signs of weakness, not in front of these fools.

Legs crossed, her hands clasping the folds of her dress to the sides, her head bowed and her knees almost touching the ground, Isodell held the pose for a long moment before rising to face the party. Sounds of metal rubbing and straining echoed behind her as her Knights rose from their half kneeling bows after her.

“My most sincere condolences and my congratulations Your Majesty.” Isodell addressed her King philosophically. “It seems life is full of bitter sweet moments, is it not? To gain something we must oft times lose something of greater value.”

With a single hand Isodell lifted the long netted veil over her head. Her lips curving into a delicious smile as she studied the men before her. The Kings was dress in red velvet and could be no more then her own age. Yet his outfit was casual by Court standards and she somehow found this small detail endearing.

Next to him stood an older gentleman Isodell recognized from her visits to Court as a child as Lord Eddermarch. It was obvious time had taken a toll on Eddermarch, he was no longer the striking man she remember him to be but neither was he anything to sneer at, there was a reason after all that he had been the old Kings most trusted friend and adviser. The Kings guards – more then half a dozen of them - stood firmly behind the two men.

And off to the sides stood two men. Isodells eyes narrowed for a split second as they landed on the large brooding figure that she knew to be no other then the King of Criminals Typhon Sturmaz. And next to him could be either the Warden of the Highlands or the Marshes. Isodell could not be sure as she had never met either man in person before; sparing the pair no more than a passing glance, her attention was back to their new Sovereign.

“Forgive me Your Majesty, I do digress.” Isodell spoke sweetly. “In celebration of your accession to the Throne we bring you gifts from all of us at Arv Rondalion. Nay! In fact from all of the Lowlanders. We are after all your own people are we not Your Majesty?”

Isodell beamed gesturing forward four Knights that held two great chests between them. The men came forward placing the beautifully decorated chests a little before Isodell and opened them to reveal the priceless content.

Gasps once again echoed through the room as hushed whisper began to circulate. Isodell ignored them.

“The purest gold and silver in all of Penumbria so your reign is forever rich, bountiful and full of beauty.” Isodell stated in reference to the two trunks.

One filled to the brim with dazzling gold bars, statues and jewelry embedded with rare gems and stones from the mines of Silverstone. The other filled to the brim with similar objects but consisting of pure silver.

Gesturing, the next Knight forward who held in his lands a large silver platter covered over by a square of dark velvet. The material was lifted to reveal armor carved with an intricate design of swirls and spirals and at the center the family crest of the House of Madriach.

“Swords, Sheild and Armor plates of the finiest Iron and Steel from the very Mines of the Lowlands. None other in all of Penumbria could ever compete with it's lasting and forbearance so Your Majesty is always protected.” Isodell stated, eyes flashing quickly to Hightower and then back to rest on the Kings. “Though one wishes most adamantly that Your Majesty never finds himself in such a precarious position, however, it is an unfortunate but true fact that treachery is most certainly rife in Penumbria.”

Isodell spoke in a grave yet suggestive tone, letting the words lie between all present for a long moment before continuing.

“And last but not least.” Isodell added buoyantly once again. “Cinnamon flowers, Piment Escense, Sweet Salt & Safron to name a few and with many other more. So Your Majesty's life is always filled with spice.”

Isodell stated opening the smaller chest brought in front of her herself that held slotted compartments that held the rarest and most expensive spices and herbs that could be found in all of Penumbria and from beyond. Some of which cost more then silver or gold for less then an ounce a piece.

Taking a large pinch of the Sweet Salt Isodell let the snow white grains slip through her fingers and back into its place in the trunk.

“Or maybe spices were ill thought . . .” Isodell teased with a wicked grin upon her full lips; suddenly looking back up, capturing the Kings gaze.

She could hear her Uncles oaths under his breath knowing where his niece's daring was going and that she would refer slyly to the Kings like for whoring and drinking. But Isodell wanted to see if the new King possessed a sense of humor. One by one she planned to draw the Kings true traits out and see whether he was a fit ruler or someone who must be removed for the good of Penumbria.

True heir or not be damned!

“It is rumored, after all that Your Majesty's life is already overly spiced . . . is it not?”

The afternoon sun beat down on Maul and his entourage. He had already gotten rid of his heavy winter clothing and slipped into light leathers and an expensive blue cotton shirt. He hated dressing up, but the occasion called for some formality. Bann Lutius had convinced Maul to trim his beard a little and helped him look presentable. Riding next to Maul was Gortas, his master-at-arms, a forty-three year old beast of a man who could spear an enemy from eighty yards away. His six-foot-seven figure gave him a commanding presence. He also saw to it that the Kingdom of the Clouds was always well supplied with iron and steel imported from the Lowlands and turned into weapons for Maul's army, and the armies of the other Banns in the Highlands.

The countryside around Langsmerth was beautiful, and reminded Maul of vivid memories when he came here as a boy on winter vacations with his family. As they approached the city Maul marvelled at the grey walls of Langsmerth. Whatever natural cliffs and escarpments protected Arv Rondalion, Langsmerth had slowly and steadily grown into a remarkable fortress of comparable proportions. King Eamon Madriach had spent countless time and resources in creating a veritable castle city. It also covered the shore as far as Maul could see, with walls extended onto land for miles. Huge iron studded gates crowned with archer's nests were embedded in the walls made of huge pieces of smooth grey stone.

After their identity was established where the king's highway connected to the city at the south gate, Maul's entourage entered. The wide streets lined with trees were a welcome change from the crowded confines of the ancient Arv Stormkeer. Maul noticed the large granaries and merchant buildings, some constructed with the same level of detail and expensive materials as his fortress back home. Money certainly flowed more freely around here. The road led them along the waterfront where hundreds of vessels were docked, among them a huge galley decorated with intricate carvings. It must be the flagship of Captain Sturmaz. Trading vessels loaded and unloaded and fishing boats of all shapes and sized came and went. The docks were all a flurry of activity. Towering above everything else was the towers of the royal palace. The flags of the Kingdom of Penumbria happily fluttered in the wind, declaring where the seat of power rested. "I hope this prince can prove to all of us that he deserves our fealty."

Bann Lutius announced their presence at the main gate and they were promptly led inside. "My Lord Stormkeer, Prince Virgil and the other Lords have left the palace and should be back shortly. May I show you to your lodgings so you can relax while you wait for him?" a royal steward asked. "Yes, that would be fine. Please, lead the way."

The dimly lit lantern emitted a ghostly yellow light in the blackness of the night. Shrouded in shadows a supple cloaked figure moved like some otherworldly apparition, stopping at the edges of the docks.

Isodell sighed heavily. If Typhon Sturmaz simply bade her here to make an attempt on her life she was going to lose what little patience she had for him. The fact that he might succeed in removing her was a laughable matter to her. Many better men had tried before, however Isodell FitzWarren would not be removed so easily.

“Blacktyde.” She whispered calling out to her wolf who was indistinguishable in the black night.

Ruby red eyes glowed like orbs as the wolf slinked up to Isodell's side. A pleasure filled rumble uttered deep from the beasts throat as her Master petted the wolf with a hard hand as the beast preferred.

She prayed to the Maker Hightower would hurry up some, she still had a lot of things she wanted doing and the dark of the night was the best time for certain activities when all slept soundly.

Alas, it would appear she would be waiting sometime still. Isodell's mind drifted back to the events of the day. To begin with she had bristled at the new King's lack luster response to her bountiful gifts. Whelp! She thought, though she acquiesced he probably meant no disrespect - at least no great disrespect - he was just . . . green.

And then the audacity of that Hightower, to call her a hound. Oh aye, he had moved too quickly for her to deliver him his just deserts to such a statement but the night was still young, one more such comment from his fiendish lips then he would get more then a slap from her. The beast!

And he had put on quite a performance too, taking her hand like a gently bred noble man and placing a kiss atop of it. If it had not been at somewhat her expense then she might have actually enjoyed it.

“The rumours of your Beauty and stormy eyes are true and if I was single then I would ask for hand in marriage unluckily my heart and hand are already spoken for.”

He had declared out loud to which she had yanked her hand out of his grip and replied disdainfully.

“How easily sweet words drip from your lips My Lord, some may say a little too easily . . . You can keep your heart and hand to yourself Ser.”

The rest of the day had passed in pleasant entertainment yet the tension in the air was so thick it could have been cut with a knife. However, it would appear they could all play pretend.

There was one other thing that vexed her to no ends at least at the time. That was Hightowers boldness to offer his sisters hands bluntly to the King.

Now, however it seemed utterly absurd, she was certain the King must be laughing right now, though at the time she had to give it to him for keep a straight face. To think the King would take to bride a peasant! Because that's what she was, that is what Typhon Sturmaz was.

And even going so far to say she was pure! As pure as any peasant could be Isodell supposed. So the girl was maiden. Well so was Isodell, though married, luckily Clayton FitzWarren her husband had croaked before she had to perform her wifely duties on their wedding night. Even now the thought of lying under Clayton FitzWarren made her feel sick.

However, that was another matter, one she would not ever have to perform thank the Maker. But yes, if Hightower's sister was still maiden then she must most assuredly be an old spinster, no doubt. For Hightower himself must be middle aged, at least forty or more in years, then his sister must be close to his own age.

Would she even be able to produce issue as Hightower had claimed the King needed an heir, or was it just a trick to leave the King without an heir so Hightower could instate his own child . . . or even himself . . .

Not that Hightower would ever be accepted as King. She had no doubt all the warring fractions of Penumbria would come together to remove him from the Throne should the unlikely ever happen . . . Though unlikely it was all food for thought . . . And Isodell liked to look at every angle whether plausible or not . . .

When they had returned, Murdock had slipped her the note and explained what had transpired and what he measures he had already taken in preparations if she so wished to go along with the note.

Of course, she would, her curiosity was much too great . . . maybe it was her weakness but she could not resist a good mystery. Of course, she had kept this information from her dear Uncle, he might have a fit if he found out.

Nay, but she was no fool. Her Knights had scoped the dock area out well in advance, dressed as commoners to not raise suspicion; where she was to met with Typhon Sturmaz and even know they held their positions.

Isodell felt somewhat bad ruining their night. She knew many of them would want to enjoy the delights of Court; the non-stop array of food any time day or night, wenching to their hearts content and so on but they were nothing if not loyal and forbearing.

Blacktyde moved impatiently at her feet. How long had she been waiting?! Typhon Sturmaz would get a good tongue lashing when he finally decided to turn up!

Finally... the coronation was over, everything went smoothly but then the thoughts of his vassals were still lingering in his mind. Was it a good first impression? Typhon was very open and showed discontent towards him, the Witch merely playing around with his mind. The maker has not granted him trust, it would be a impossible feat to siege Langsmerth and take it with a lone force, the garrison alone was five thousand and with the support of other vassals plus local militia and Banns the manpower would reach a staggering thirty thousand within a few days march. He did not fear within his own walls but of the walls of others, what is a king if he simply hides in his castle? Out of all the vassals he could only trust with semi confidence Maul. House Theongor were always humble vassals. But what if it not the case now?

"His majesty arrives!"

It was tradition that a newly crowned king rides through Langsmerth greeting and connecting with the commonfolk. It is a grand event the king was followed by the legendary Crimson Guard with their signature dark red silk robes and their terrifying helmets that covered their entire face only showing a slit of their eyes. Virgil sat on Thunder albeit slightly uncomfortable, his fathers armour was cooking him alive, it was too heavy for liking. The Guard flanked all of his sides, it was hard to see anything, that pretty much made the point of the march redundant. The walkways were filled with commonfolk chanting and cheering.

"Move aside, let me reach my people." Two guard towered in front of him, they turned around.

"I highly advise your majesty that you stay in the middle here, it is too dangerous."

"I do not heed your advice, move aside you two.:

Qunten rode after him, almost running over a crowd of people. "What's wrong with your head boy?" Qunten held his shield over his chest ready to bounce if any was to happen. The crowd was cheering even louder, the chants faster. The people were inspired, their own leader in shining armour fitting of heroes of the legends told. He knew that a sneaky shot from a crossbow could end his life but why did it matter, his people were more important. Virgil moved closer to the sides of the street with several guards chasing after him. "Protect his majesty!" Virgil swung down from his horse hanging from the stirrup hi-fiving the crowd. "The king, the king, his majesty!" a most bold maneuver even Qunten could agree.

"Enough, get his majesty back we are reaching the old town." Qunten said. The Old Town was the poorest part of the city filled with outcasts and the homeless. Guards then attempted to pull him back into the bulk of the convoy.

"Hands off, i am your king."

"Your majesty we are all worried for your safety."

He did not bother, Thunder went into full gallop. Qunten and a squad of guards rode quickly. The crowd roared. Virgil took off his helmet showing his beautiful hair and bright face.

---

The day was done, Qunten spared him a lecture almost grinning Just like your father. Virgil rested in his study in front of a fireplace.

“Do not think just because I say nothing to your obsinities that I will not strike you Lord Hightower. Does it look like I ever fish?!? It's bad enough that you call me out to such a spot in the dead of night. You should just be happy that I showed up at all! And as I recall your note said nothing about getting in a damn boat!” Isodell growled at the beast of a man that was Typhon Sturmaz as she stepped into the boat, concealed in a hooded cloak, lantern in hand and Blacktyde steadfastly at her side.

Isodell's cold eyes sized up the Hightower Warden in silent displeasure as he rowed them to their isolated destination.

“What do you think of the future king? He seems to be missing the drive or fire to lead, he doesn't have the charisma to make people believe in him, nor the iron hand to put us down. You may not like the metaphor of hounds but what are we if not his hunting hounds, raised to serve him but with the teeth to rip him apart if he cant control us. If he had ordered my death I had orders to my men to follow him. He ignores the way I advised him to follow in our foot steps destroy those in high positions that he doesn’t trust but what do I get a sword from the person with the most to lose, his chief advisor if anything I hope that my words lit a flame or drove a wedge in his trust of them. What I find most funny was the way your eyes changed when I offered my sister, of course he's going to decline because if he dies then who will support his grieving widow, her older brother. Not that she needs me much she's older then you by about two years, an almost as cunning. Then again of the five of us you seem to be the one that has the most cunning, I'm guessing you will let the boys fight then when the winner is licking his wounds you will come up behind and stab him in the back. My final thought is this do you think he's realized that we are all testing him to see if we want to serve him and if he fails then worst case we team up then split the spoils, best case there are five independent country’s?”

“My Lord you wound me with your rash judgment of my character. I'm as innocent as the first snow fall of the winter. However one cannot fault his Majesty for not taking your advice.” Isodell commented on a sneer.

So the Lord Hightower was sharper then the blunt brute he appeared to be; guessing a small part of her plan. But she was not a woman to lay her cards out on the table.

“As for the Kings realizing the testing of his abilities . . . Well, however should I know? I am doing no such thing. I am solely here to serve my Liege Lord and celebrate his accession to the Throne . . . And let's just say for arguments sake that worst came to War then why ever my Lord would I settle for an independent split realm when I could have it all.” Isodell replied sweetly, her wicked smile looking even more menacing and dangerous in the low lantern light.

Aye, she would never settle for less then all. Isodell watch the working of Hightowers mind in his eyes. He was trying to make out whether she jested or told the truth. It pleased her immensely. Let him keep guessing . . . For she would never tell . . .

"Independence you say. Why in the world would you think that I would want the marshes to become an independent country?" Isodell and Typhon turned sharply to face the intruding voice.

Vanio Sivareth.

“It is not a becoming trait to lurk and listen in on a conversation like a nosy servant Lord Marshes.” Isodell greeted him non-surplussed. “Pray, tell us then My Lord why does Lord Hightower's note bring you here in the dead of night then? Morbid curiosity?”

Merely half way through the night did many events unfold. "His most honourable Lord Sundregn requests your most highest presences." Virgil stood up already tired from Ostel's bickering.

"Does this bastard want a talk over wine? I will go to him, lead me to his guest house." With that the party went through the courtyard to the other side of the castle. It was an awkward stroll, silent of course until a courier ran frantically towards the party. "Your majesty!" Virgil received a note, clearly from the brute, Typhon Sturmaz. "Here Qunten, to satisfy your curiousity."

"Well he sure left in a hurry, a game he plays, ain't surprised his presences alone stirred enough shit." Qunten smirked.

"Maybe...he is preparing to invade the mainland, let us worry about that later..." After a while the party reached the guesthouse, Virgil dismissed the guards and only Qunten followed.

"That brings the count down to two, Theongor left early and Typhon left in utmost haste. My mind is blank of what this swamp dweller wishes from me..."

Just a few steps away from Vaino's guesthouse they were greeted by Isodell Disturbing? "Well, your lady I am stuck between two arrangements..." Virgil turned to Qunten and said to him "Well...she's in quite a rush, I have a feeling they will tell us the same things, Qunten you meet his Lord Sundregn and I'll deal with this." Virgil turned towards the entrance and bought along two guards. "Take care." This was not what he expected, IF what Ostel said is true then dead did Sturmaz had to be, unfortunately he had skipped town early.

He entered the solar greeted by Isodell's guards. "Your lady.

The Sun climbed higher into the sky, soft but strong winds filling the sails of the Caravels as they glided into the Langsmerth Harbour. The first banner of the Abruzzi Company had arrived in Penumbria, and not before time, too. Ferro looked at over the stone towers, the salt in the air filling his nostrils. In a weird way, it felt good to be back. There was something ever so more refreshing and...clean about Penumbria. The people were, as a rule, generally less treacherous, less hot-headed, and having a stable monarchy seemed, for the most part, to have brought them benefits, like the public works that filled this great city.

Of course, all things change, as Coriolano knew. The Old King was dead, and his heir was rumoured to be a bastard, and unsuited for the throne. He had already recieved message by bird that some factions were forming here, and that they would soon have need of a man like him and his services.

"Diego! You are my second, for now. Help get these lot unloaded and quartered somewhere. I trust you will keep them out of too much trouble. Heavens know I don't want half of my first wave of men locked up for being drunk and disorderly." the Mercenary General spoke lightly, with familiarity, but also an edge. He could be friendly with his men, since afterall they had voted for him to become their leader, but he would also not forget that he was their -leader-, and not their buddy.

"Aye, Sir. You off up to the Harbour Authority?"

"No, I'm off to meet with whichever Lord or Merchant runs this city currently. I doubt the Heir has exerted that much influence yet, so probably a regent or something. But who knows these days?" He strolled down the gangplank, feeling the wind at his back as he set foot on the stone pier. He was truly in Penumbria now. It was a gamble coming here, and with only a fraction of the Abruzzi company, but a necessary one. His instincts told him that he would be able to make -alot- of money in the weeks and months to come. But first, he had to find someone willing to bankroll the arrival of his force in Penumbria. Something he had not told his men was that he and they were here on credit from one of the more generous Merchant Banks. Securing a definite employer- at least for the time being- was going to be his priority, even if that meant saddling his force with boring and largely unprofitable guard duty. General Abruzzi sighed. It might be a while before he could relax and begin to spend coin freely in Langsmerth's many fine taverns.

"Hail and warm winds, Dockmaster. Could you direct me to the Noble's Quarter?

Vaino was sitting at a small table with a map of Penumbria, two wine glasses, and another chair opposite of his. His guards were standing in different points in the room. He looked at the map on the table with distain. The Lowlands were plentiful with resources but the Marshes were not as lucky. It seemed as though his land would be to overburdened by it's population if it did not expand sooner or later. Then there was a knock on the door and when opened by his guard it appeared to be the King's stewart, Qunten. The King must have had other business to attend to.

The guard showed the man to his seat, closing the door behind him. Vaino did not like wasting time with small talk so he got down to business. "These are troubling times indeed. Hightower looks like is going to rebel, the Lowlands may as well, and I am caught in between it. Personally I have no wish to aid them in their treasonous attempts but I am in a difficult position. Due to the closeness of our wards, Hightower will surley attack the marshes before anyone else. Though my garrison at God's Reach will be enough to keep them at bay it will still be costly in life. I have twenty thousand soldiers ready at command, more will be recruited later. All these at the King's disposal. After we put down the rebellion, I will need something to compensate for the cost and to please the nobles of my court." He pointed to the Central Forest on the map. "The Central Forest is the only thing I request.

Maul and his men were pacing the horses gently after the hard ride yesterday. He had known it would be close to impossible to make it back to Langsmerth from Silverstone in less than a day, but he still wanted to try. Now they were about two hours outside Langsmerth and the countryside was getting more crowded with manors and people. Fields of grains were swaying in the wind. Maul loved the smell of ripening wheat.

The relaxed pace had put everyone in a better mood. They will make it to Langsmerth before noon, see King Virgil, and be able settle into House Boison, which was just outside the city walls, so they don't have to sleep in the palace. That was very appealing to Maul, he had never been one for luxuries and extravagance, valuing the simple things in life. Many people said he dressed more like a peasant than a Lord. And that he could as easily have been at home in a sailors kitchen instead of the lavish dinners of court. ''If only this brainless pirate had not been so selfish, then I could have been inside the Highlands by now, and on the way home!''

A cloud of dust pursued the riders as they followed the ever widening road over the flat plains of the lowlands. A stone bridge up ahead allowed passage over a large meandering river. As the riders stepped on the bridge, a group of figures ran out of hiding on the other end, and as Maul quickly glanced back he noticed they were trapped by an even larger group closing the gap behind. Several patches of bushes had provided cover for the bandits or combatants. With drawn swords the Highlanders eyed their opponents, who were looking back fiercely while approaching with care. They were sorely outnumbered, ''Today I might die, but best I die fighting!'' Maul thought.

''Dismount!...Split and...Line formation!''he shouted. The highlanders obeyed as one man, quickly jumping off their mounts and splitting into two groups, one facing their rear and the other facing their advance. ''Run the horses into the rear!'' Maul again commanded as he swung his sword at an enemy. The horses were quickly smacked and even cut on their hindquarters to make them gallop at the group of men who were approaching from the rear. Gortas had grabbed the spear which also carried the banner of House Theongor and was using it to fight. His enormous size and the strength of his blows immediately caused their adversaries to fall back slightly.

For every opponent cut down by the Highlanders there were three more to take their place. ''Unite! ...and to the side!" Gortas screamed as blood flowed liberally down his right arm. "Jump in the water!" Eight surviving Highlanders quickly propelled themselves over the side of the bridge and into the river. Staying under as long as his breath enabled Maul swam with the stream and emerged two stone-throw away from the bridge.

There were six Highlanders swimming with him, thirteen men had been lost as well as their horses and most of their supplies. Their assailants had not followed them into the river, preferring to watch them drift downstream while some ran after the bewildered horses. Others were already stripping and looting the dead. Bann Liutus was among the fallen. However, the grunting Gortas was swimming next to Maul, still holding on to the banner of House Theongor. Who in the Maker's name dared to attack a Warden on the King's road?

Vaino stepped forward to recieve the honor of Bann of Sunwood. Since the King had given the warden at least half of his requested offer he would put his full effort into the war. The marshes could always amass a large army but he had been increasing the production of goods related to war for the last twelve years. The marshes could now raise large armies in a reletively short amount of time. He was confident that the King would accept his demand for at least a third of the forest. That was why he sent a few of his guards to ride swiftly back to Sundregn in order to inform Yilviir that it was time to prepare for war to put down the rebellion. By the time he would leave Langsmerth they would be much closer to Sundregn.

"My soldiers are yours, my lord. He told the King with a traditional bow. He would raise such a massive army that nothing Hightower could throw at him would so much a make a dent. The ground would tremble when they marched and the cry of their voices would even pierce the ears of the Maker. Their experience would be replaced with superior moral and vicious fighting. Any who stood against them would meet wretched fates.

The glimmer of the hearth and the rustle of parchment gradually pulled Maul out of his slumber. Mostly nude except for a pair of light trousers and a thick bandage on his lower torso he lay under the heavy woollen blankets. His eyes slowly took in the strange room as his mind struggled to register where he was.

"Oh yes, I'm in the palace..."

Lifting his head off the pillow he tried to find the source of the noise that woke him. Silhouettted against the blaze a beautiful woman sat on the floor. Flowing blond hair hid her face, while her slender arms pushed flat a scroll of parchment. She was absorbed with what she was doing, and Maul tried to trick himself out of "this dream".

Truth be told he was captivated, and afraid of breaking the spell. He watched in delight as she pushed a few locks out of her eyes, and without making a sound he propped himself up on his elbows for a better view. Pain exploded on his right side where he had been wounded in the earlier clash, and a tiny grunt escaped his lips...