The Crest of the Leo

[Lakross Saber]

The Crest of Leo

Medieval-Fantasy RP

Setting

The land of Fa’Alembrig, a diverse land of large fields, grasslands, meadows, valleys and mountains, land ripe for farming and filled with great bounty for those whose search. Rich in precious metals and game, humanity has prospered and grown strong in this land, with mountains acting as natural defense from outsiders wishing to invade, and has left them isolated to war with each other. A wealth of kingdoms have risen and fallen in this nirvana on earth, the greatest being the Kingdom of Al’Verinda, lead by the Wizard King Ava’ntes McClain. Under his reign the land knew such peace and advancement in technology that it was called the age of heaven, but as he grew older, the weaker his Kingdom became and thus it began to crumble. Splintering into three separate kingdoms each ruled by one of Ava’ntes three sons as they battled for who would rule the once beautiful whole they had destroyed.

The first and eldest son, Fal’cile McClain was the only child to receive the ability of his father to use magic and he used it to establish his dominance over his third of their fathers land.

The second son Gavin McClain who had received his father’s intellectual mind and quick wits at warfare brought his under control with well though plans and quick use of military strength.

The Final and youngest son, Alb’eret McClain had received nothing from his father except his looks, instead developing his own unique skill. He was master at arms and with the use of his three blades Dragon tongue, mermaid song and Roc Wing, all three a Flange with unique ability. His kingdom was established not by his strength, but by those he had gotten to follow him through loyalty, but his was still the weakest of the three, only surviving by surrounding himself with generals and advisors that worked for his father, having a circle of trustees that helped him.

The struggle for the dominance of Fa’Alembrig is continuing even today, much of the old technology lost under the bloodshed and a time of primitive caste systems separating the commons from the nobles as the three kingdoms still struggle for supreme dominance of the land.

The Kingdoms of Fal’cile, Gavin, and Alb’eret, named for their founders have entered into a time of unsteady peace that was born from the Rebirth of Fire, the return of the dragons from before the time of Ava’ntes. No more than Small border skirmishes happening as each nation watch the sky for the next dragon strike.

---------- Post added at 08:19 PM ---------- Previous post was at 08:16 PM ----------

~Current Kings~

High Lord Lawrence McClain, Defender of the land and provider of prosperity to the Kingdom of Alb’eret

Emperor Florence McClain of Gavin, Genius strategist, war councilor, merchant lord and enforcer of invention

Wizard King of Fal’cile, high summoner, Controller of Rycs, lord of elements, master of nature and defender of justice

---------- Post added at 08:19 PM ---------- Previous post was at 08:16 PM ----------

~Rycs~

Rycs, or more commonly referred to as ‘magic’ is the force that is found in the earth and living creates that causes anomaly’s in the natural world that wouldn’t usually be possible, like a dead tree returning to life, or a fire turning to ice. Very rarely is it possible that someone can manipulate Rycs, ‘wizards’ or ‘Sorceress’s’ as they are called. Extremely powerful and immensely dangerous they are often discriminated against as to dangerous to live around because they themselves are an anomaly of nature. Like how some men are stronger than others, some wizards to sorceress’s gift is stronger than others, their talents lying in different areas.

~Flange’s~

In response to the Wizards and Sorceress’s unique abilities Ava’ntes, the Wizard King brought about the creation of the Flange. A Item created and imbedded with the blood of a Wizard of Sorceress that act as conductors to Rycs instead of the body that create specific effects designed by the runes carved into them. Can take any form, an amulet, a pair of shoes, even a weapon. Due to the years of war many of these items have been lost and thus they are quite rare, normally only found in noble houses or in the royal vaults of the three kingdoms.

---------- Post added at 08:27 PM ---------- Previous post was at 08:19 PM ----------

I am one of those guys that believe that the character isn't created on a profile, in a format, by when it is played so I won't be going with a set format that speaks of a characters personality, all I want is a name and a history. You know, something telling how your character got to this point in his life, major points that defined him can be brought out as the story comes. but say your character has flange's or is a Rycs user, which isn't likely seeing how they are exceptionally rare, I want a reason as to why you have it, how you got it. Stuff like that. And if possible, description should be told in your first post.

But for those who want a character format

Name:

History:

Just send it to me, Lakross Saber.

---------- Post added at 08:34 PM ---------- Previous post was at 08:27 PM ----------

The Players

~Lawrence McClain~

History: The first born of High Lord Ma’lorth the third and as one would expect of a kings first he was brought up with the best of tutors from swordsmanship, to education, even in warfare strategies. Lawrence was a warrior born, his blood hot in battle and possessed a terrible rage in combat, even as a child. Even with a brother Lawrence could only be seen with two other people when not studying was the daughter of the court wizard, Cassandra de Seyssel, and his practical Shadow, Xavier. Known as a prodigy in all forms of weaponry and political inquires, able to see through lies and misgivings as if seeing through a glass window.

At the ripe age of fifteen due to a tragic incident his father, court wizard and four of his most trusted advisors were killed, leaving him to take the throne, and since his rise to the throne a litany of blood followed him, his younger brother, many nobles and even some advisors died in freak incidents. It has been a long ten years of his rule and in court he is known as the Prodigal King, in private he is called the Reapers favorite son because death follows at his heels like a hound.

~Cassandra De Seyssel~

Cassandra de Seyssel grew up in the court of Wizard King Ava’ntes McClain, she was one of privilege and wealth as her mother was Alanede Seyssel, a Rycs and one of the last few that could read emotions through dreams. Thus making her a wise choice to be Counselor to the Great King, her wisdom of events to come made her a great asset to the Throne. Not to mention that they were true friends.

Growing up with Alb’eret brought them that same closeness their parents shared and just as platonic even as the Palace whispered of their marriage, it was never to be and they both knew it. Theirs is a friendship untouched by anything more.

Then the day came when the Great King was gone after years of fighting to keep the Kingdom together and with him her own mother was caught as well as 4 other Council members in a freak hunting accident. With that Cassandra moved to her mother’s seat, to the right of the King as his Advisor and most loyal friend.

Cassandra’s strength lies within her ability to manipulate the minds of others; be it a tiny whisper in the ear or the sight of a blade coming at ones face, she could make what ever her victim wishes, or fears come true. That is only the tip of the ice burg, her strength in skill being unfathomable as she continues to grow ever stronger, even if it is only in short bursts. She has been used as great source of information for the King, much can be learned hearing the most inner thoughts of those around her, of course she could not read everyone. There are those that have enough will to prevent her from entering their mind and flip through their memories and emotions but there were others that she could manipulate as they stood before the King. It wasn’t always easy and it did take her energy depending on how strong the persons mind was. But once she was in it was all but impossible to remove her.

Where she was strong in magic she wasn’t a warrior and could barely hold a sword without hurting herself so she doesn’t, not that Lawrence hadn’t tried to teach her the blade arts since they were young, it just wasn’t for her. Cassandra doesn’t really like touching too much and the thought of getting someone else’s blood on her, well that just wouldn’t be good at all. She could use a small dagger but her weapon was her mind.

~Lilith 'The Chameleon' Rennac~

History: Nothing too much is known about ‘the Chameleon’ before she becamethe new leader of the Underground Thieves Guild about six years ago after the ‘accidentaldeath’ of the previous leader. Her identity never revealed and her tacticsnever clear, she has been a thorn in the side of all the guards of the villagesand towns that she holds in her map. About a month ago, she ran into an elderman, a Wizard, and come along some information that turned out to not be in thebest interests of the land. Unfortunately, Lilith cannot even remember her ownname due to the wizard locking her mind before selling her off to a slavecaravan; a caravan that was headed towards the capital

~Xavier~



History: Raised by his grandmother Kayla Xavier was always weak in body. His grandmother was a powerful witch, preferring to live in the woods deep away from anyone as she raised her grandchild, training him to use what was naturally given to him, his lithe body and knack for remaining hidden when he wished.

One day though the two received a visit from the king of the lands, the High Lord Ma’lorth with a regime of soldiers paid them a visit. Things were tense at first as the King was aware of the grandmother’s abilities, but Mal’orth was dangerous in his own so a compromise was met. In exchange for the Grandmother being left to her own devices she promised the support of help in anything she was asked and her son was taken as a ward of the state.

Xavier’s training was continued at the castle where he was told that from then on he would act as the shadow of Lord Mal’orths first born son. To be a guardian and whatever else was asked of him. Though the son was harsh to him at first after a terrible incident while out hunting the two became close and even know holds a friendly relationship with the current king years later.

[Lakross Saber]

~Rp now Open~

The older woman let out a small grunt as she stretched her back, a crack resounding in the spacious hall as she carried the wash in the basket on her hip. She was rather tall for a woman, hair more gray then brown and still retained some of her beauty from youth. She wore the standard brown linen dress with white apron most maids now wore.

She would really need to speak to her lord about getting the wash room moved closer to the courtyard for drying, or get more maids. The older woman frowned, scratch that last thought the lord caused enough trouble with the maids they had already. Honestly for a man with access to what equated to a personal harem he had too much free time and somehow found ways to get in trouble with the workers, young maids in particular.

Lynette sighed as she reached the large wooden door in the side of the large stone hallway and had to force it open. She would also have to talk about getting these doors greased, not all of the castles inhabitants were built like a raging bull. She had to shy away from the sun as it blazed a spot in her eyes; they really needed to move the wash room. After she got used to the intensity of the sun Lynette walked out into the courtyard and stopped.

A grassy plain set out before her, bordered by massive gray walls that towered above her, nearly fifteen feet of solid stone with watch towers at each corner. In the plain before her, trainees were put through drills, instructors shouting as someone performed a sword strike wrong and telling them to do it again. She strode through the divides in area’s as the younger men struck wooden posts, practiced with each other and learned to handle the heavy pikes and halberds.

Their heavy, steel armor worn even in the day’s heat but it seemed not to affect them in the least; it was always hot in Alb’eret. It never snowed and the coldest of times was only a slight chill that caused one to snuggle closer to their partner. Lynette passed another couple of maids as they rushed by, carrying more clothes for the wash and Lynette groaned internally. The work was never finished in the castle and she wondered how anything would get done without servants to do it.

As she passed through another gate, much easier to open then the first she smiled as the shade covered her. She preferred the garden to the court grounds, even if she could still hear them in the distance. As she walked among the beautiful flowers of purple, white, red and array of colors she felt at peace. She liked that the clothes line was out here, but it did need to be closer to the wash room so she would discuss it with the lord. Or not.

As she hung the wash up her peace was disturbed with another maid calling for her from the garden door, the sound of training becoming slightly louder. “Well, what is it?” She asked as she walked from the wash line and fixed the younger maid with a stern look.

The young maid was one of the newer ones to her job and quite pretty with long, dark hair and a pleasant figure whittled under the look. One of the few Lynette’s lord handed gotten into trouble with, yet. Lynette grimaced then eased back, she was still a bit grumpy from her back. “Come now dear, what is wrong?”

The girl composed herself quickly, pulling a strand of hair behind her ear as she stood straight. “I was told to find you by the Lord Argus and inform you that our lord,” The girls eyes sparkled as she spoke of the castle’s lord and Lynette frowned. Their seemed to be a fascination with the Lord among the younger generation, perhaps all the rumors of his skills as a warrior and piercing look bred this fascination but Lynette couldn’t understand it. He was still only human, even if he was a great warrior. “Has yet to awaken and the other nobles are getting tired of waiting for him, so would you and these are his words I repeat ma’am, ‘Roll his hide from under his current distraction.’ What ever that means, Ma’am.”

Lynette scowled, honestly after all these years one would think he would get up by himself now. “Very well, and you return to your prior duties.” Lynette’s mood was turning worse and the young maid whisked away with barely a courtesy, hair flying behind her as she scurried away. Lynette sighed as she finished hanging the wash and went to awaken her lord.

As the old maid kicked up her dress through the dark hall, slits of windows passing her as she mounted the stairs that lead to the upper level and the Lord’s chambers she was grumbling to herself. “Really, to think I would have to wake him up after all these years. One would think being a king would make him change, but here I am, still waking him up after twenty five years.”

Lynette reached the large, wooden, double doors and had to push hard to open even one, taking a refreshing breath as she walked into the darkened chamber. It was large, dark colors matching the walls with a large wardrobe of to the side, a closed balcony to the right and a large bed before her up on the wall, colored similarly. She walked up to the bed too see two figures sprawled on it, both uncovered and bare to the world. One faced down, a woman of darkly tanned skin and lustrous, raven hair who was using the others chest as a pillow, obviously content in sleep.

Lynette recognized the woman, she was another maid and this wasn’t the first time finding her here, in a similar situation. Lynette’s hand resounded quite sharply on the bared woman’s bottom, causing her to awaken quite quickly with a pained gasp and squeak. “Astrea, get dressed and to the kitchens for pot scrubbing duty now or so help me your family will be wondering where you disappeared to when its time for a family reunion!” The maid was barely back in her shift as she scrambled out of the room, rear still stinging.

Then the old maid turned to the man as he shifted position and shook her head. “Wake up, my Lord!” she said sternly, receiving nothing but a small grunt and she shook her head again. Lynette walked over to the closed balcony, the drapes blacking the sunlight that would normally be streaming in the room and she gave her lord one last chance. “Wake up, Mi’lord.” Still nothing and Lynette will admit, she enjoyed opening the blinds more then she should have.

The moment that light hit the eyelids of the man they sprung open and he quickly covered them with his hands. “Gah!” His deep voice let out, the sun burning a spot in his eyes. The lord always despised the sun, it hurt his eyes after a good sleep more then most, or so he told her. She knew it was just him over reacting. “Blast you woman, close the drapes!”

Lynette let out a little ‘hmp’. “Honestly Lawrence, you’re a King now. Get up early and I wouldn’t have to do this to get you up! The other nobles are waiting on you as well so get up!” Lynette sighed and hid a smile. “I will send up some food and you had better be up or I’ll be back with a bucket of cold water.” Lynette strode out, grumbling about back pains, leaving the newly awaken king to stumble out of bed.

He was tall, but not the tallest, with a full head of dirty blond hair that reached his shoulders in the back, his nose in the front. His blue, steel gray eyes squinted against the sun as he scratched at the beard that followed along his entire his jaw, a bit of stubble covering his cheeks, lips and throat with trimmed eyebrows. Their was no doubt that he was a warrior, his body heavy with muscle that was hard, not over bearing and a few scars covering his landscape of flesh as he pushed the balcony open, leaning against the railing as he adjusted to the light.

Lawrence had a good view of the courtyard as the new soldiers were trained, their voices reaching him now as they crashed into each other and wooden posts. On his walls, which were level with his balcony were guards patrolling, each large and decked in steel armor with a quiver and bow in hand; one noticing him and waving in response to Lawrence’s upraised arm. Then Lawrence turned his sight beyond his walls, the city sprawling out before him in a vibrancy of color that contrasted with his stony fortress. Large wooden buildings squashed together with a bustle of people that looked like a river of rainbow colors that almost brought a smile to his lips. He could imagine the hawkers with their wares, hollering out prices and products that one just had to have.

All this peace was protected by a second wall that surrounded the whole of the city, leaving the farms outside the walls to add another level of protection for the townsfolk. The life of a city, any city was its people, so his ancestor had to make sure they were protected. The capital of Alb’eret was one of the most heavily defended cities in the land, with great gates of steel baring access to any but friends and citizens.

Speaking of the gates, Lawrence could see that a line of caravans were being led through the city, large for him to see them so clearly, and quite a few. A trade caravan was a big deal, since they were allowed across all borders to stimulate the economy of said country, a recent advancement since the Rebirth of Fire. Lawrence grimaced, to think the dragons would come back during his reign, he had some bad luck. The king blinked and stood back up, a caravan of that size meant that their would be a few merchants bringing goods for him to see in hopes to receive a large sum in return.

That meant he had to get dressed, not to mention the other nobles waiting on him. His father had been avoided by the Nobles like he was the plague yet they seemed to be unable to leave him alone. Damn nobles and their damn ranks. He turned to get dressed stopping as his eyes met the large brown eyes of a maid walking in his room with a tray of steaming food. Lawrence watched as the young maid’s eyes trailed down his body to his- “Ahem.” Lawrence faked a cough and the brown eyes met his again. “I believe my eyes are up here, miss.”

His voice came out calm and smooth, confidence flowing from him like water in a river as he leaned back on the railing; the maid’s face bright red as she quickly placed the tray on the bed and scrambled out of the room with a torrent of. “Scuse me, Mi’lord!” and “Sorry, Mi’lord!”

Lawrence raised a brow after the woman left and scratched at his beard. “What’s she sorry for, I’m the one indecent.” Lawrence shrugged, women.

The king picked up a soft roll as he passed the tray on his bed, chewing a piece as he pulled open his wardrobe, revealing the row of clothes waiting to be worn, all brightly colored and beautiful silk. Lawrence grimaced, he hated getting primped up like a Peacock, he preferred leather and armor; curse of a warrior bloodline, but the courtroom was another battlefield and one needed the proper armor for the battlefield. The courtrooms were brightly colored and more uncomfortable then sleeping on porcupines, but not by much and perish the thought of lace, what was the world coming to when a man wore lace. Honestly.

Lawrence slipped into an outfit of finely cut blue and golden silk, blue forming the body with golden trim and darker blue designs on the body that resembled his family crest, a Rhinoceros. Collar high on the side of the neck, reaching the jaw while the front was cut deep to the hollow between neck and chest, his pants matched with blue silk and golden trim that held tight to the muscle of his thighs and reached down to a pair of black boots that reached mid calf. Finishing the bread he peered at the empty space on the right of his wardrobe.

There was a pedestal with a black colored vial and a purple velvet, golden trimmed and tasseled pillow laying on it with his crown resting on the pillow. The crown was mostly simple, a hoop of gold fitted to his head with its only decoration being a beautifully crafted golden double edged sword that designated the front of the crown. The handle was adorned with a beautiful sapphire for a pommel with two finely cut rubies at the end of each hand guard. The blade itself was facing downwards, two fingers in width and the pointed end of the blade rested between his eyebrows and it was sharpened as a reminder that while king, he could still be reached with a blade.

Lawrence pulled the vial from beside the pillow and poured the liquid inside into his hands and used it to slick his hair back. It was oil that gave his hair a sheen and kept it from covering his crown. He wanted all who stood before him to have a constant reminder that he was King. He pulled his crisp, white riding gloves on before picking up the crown and placing it onto his head, the blades point nestling in between his brow and right on top of his nose.

He then returned to the cooled food on his bed and quickly inhaled it before pulling the cape onto his shoulders, made to match his outfit, and yes he had a cape for each outfit. Tightening the clasp as he strode out from his chambers, he looked up to see Lynette waiting for him, a small smile on her lips.

“Good Morning, Mi’lord.” And she curtsied deeply as Lawrence stopped before her, face showing a soft fondness for the older woman.

“Lynette, you do have a way with waking people, you know?” he said with humor on his voice, the older maid smiling back.

“Of course Mi’lord, some one must watch out for the King lest he be seen as a lazy bumpkin.” The humor reached her voice as Lawrence began walking and she fell in line.

“You know, any other king would have had you executed for that.” His voice light as he tried to keep the humor from sounding out, by the look he felt Lynette give him, he had failed. She had always seen through his acting easier then most, much easier. If he didn’t trust her completely he would have had her killed long ago. The courtroom really was a battlefield which could be won with even some one like a head maid.

“Yes, but you are not like other kings, Mi’lord.” Lynette paused for a moment then added. “Besides, who else would wash your small clothes and not cringe.”

Lawrence clicked his tongue as he made his way through the hallways. “Nobles, caravans and witty head maids. Today is already turning out a shining example of life in Alb’eret, all I need now is a prissy court wizard and I’ll have my own comedy troupe.” Lawrence placed a hand to the side of his face as made a face of mock relaxation. “Oh wait; I do have one of those.” Lawrence smiled as he looked at the maid to his side that was shaking her head.

“Don’t even start with me, besides we have arrived.” Lynette and Lawrence stopped before the large doors, the maid bowing her head quickly. “Good Luck, Mi’lord.”

Lawrence smiled shortly. “I don’t need luck Lynette, I have you.” As he pushed the door open to the candle lit room Lynette smiled to herself. Maybe she could see how the younger generation saw Lawrence in a different light.

The moment Lawrence passed between the hallway and the courtroom an aura of cold, steel confidence surrounded him. His face stone and eyes seeming more steel gray then blue as he ignored the crowd of people standing towards the center of the large room. Nobles were the weeds of the world and if possible then he would have them all clipped. Lawrence walked to his throne; it was a heavy, massive wooden thing with designs carved in and with enough gold gilded into it to make an entire golden dinner set for a family of ten and a dog dish.

Lawrence took his seat with grace, his leg crossed over his other and head resting on his fist as his heavy sight landed on the closest noble. “Why do you disturb me now.” His voice was heavy and cold, in public he was a mountain, cold, unmoving and unforgiving.

The man he was looking at was short, bald with a graying mustache and was considerably wide and not because of his body type. His nasally voice drifted out as Lawrence noticed the lace he was wearing and stopped a sigh from escaping him. Damn Lace, what man in his right mind would wear lace? The noble, Miclios he thought, was letting on a Drone about how the taxes to his lands were quite heavy and how he hadn’t had a good crop this year. Lawrence silenced the man with a stare. “Court matters can wait until my advisor arrives.”

Lawrence’s voice brokered no argument and he received none, for five minutes.


A woman this time, tall with a hawkish nose and dressed in red finery that hid her easy life style spoke up her compliant. “Will your advisor be arriving any time soon?”

Lawrence fixed her with a glare. “She’ll be here when she gets here.”

Another ten minutes passed and Lawrence nearly let his boredom show as the nobles became restless. He might just have to go on without her if she kept dragging her heels. Luckily the large double doors at the end of the hall opposite his throne were opened and he knew she was here.

[Polly Leigh]

As the doors opened Cassandra stood perfectly still for a moment allowing her eyes to adjust to the change in light, she knew she was late so another minute couldn’t hurt. Focusing on the first thing that she saw it just happened to be Lawrence. He sat on his Throne dressed in all his peacock glory; she suppressed a giggle knowing how much he hated dressing up for court. Ever since they were children he hated coming to Court but did and often just because that was where she was, just like she had found herself in the training field watching him practice.

She on the other hand loved everything about Court she could only guess it was because of her Mother. How she loved to watch her Mother sitting in the chair with the golden trim to the right of the King. She sat so straight and proper with confidence as she help guide the King in his decisions. Her command of the Nobles was unquestioned, always playing the perfect hostess. That is very first lesson her mother taught her, to be the perfect Advisor she would have to be the perfect hostess. Catering to the Nobles in a fashion, knowing when to bend them at just the right time, the right amount to get what you wanted from them to get what you need from them. Everyone played their own game and casualties were expected and never doubt you are playing the same game. The difference is knowing how to win. She could still hear her mother’s voice, “You have to play the Players of the Court like you play the harp. You dress the part, you speak the part and you act the part and you will truly be the part. Her Mother was right.

She slowly scanned the room and judging by the looks on the faces of the Nobles Lawrence had waited for her; with a smile she entered the room knowing the vision she displayed. Being a comfortable 5’7 with hair of a beautiful Honey blonde with just a hint of bloody red covering her back like a blanket of silken shine, she wore it straight with a simple head dress made of gold resting around her forehead. Her gown was black velvet that fit snug out lining her curves right down to her pointed sleeves with a gracious train that followed behind, accented only with and gold belt about 3 inches wide that crossed low on her hips slightly on the left side. She had known most of the Noble women would display their hoopy dresses while she chose just the opposite and she also knew that by tomorrow more than half would have a close replica of her own.

Giving a respectful curtsey Cassandra addressed the King, “Please forgive my tardiness Milord.” She rose and her sapphire blue eyes flashed a quick smile as she took her rightful place next to the King.

[Lakross Saber]

It was astounding, too Lawrence anyway how Cassandra managed to make as large of an entrance as she did. More importantly as Lawrence fixed the woman with his heavy gaze, unable to afford softening it she had made him wait, on purpose no doubt. She did push her luck, but he supposed it didn’t matter, it was the noble’s time she was wasting and he would do as he wished anyway, despite their advice.



His head lifted from his fist as he addressed the woman before him. “You are excused, Advisor Cassandra. Please, sit.” Then he turned his heavy gaze to the fat noble. “Now, we may begin.” The noble bowed low as he began talking.



“Of course my lord, as I was saying,” He stood back up and began to rub at the piece of hair on his lip, Lawrence closing his eyes as he listened. “My land has had a bad harvest this season and I haven’t mad a great sale and I ask that in this time that if you would lower your tax I would be grateful.” The noble was smiling as Lawrence opened his eyes and simply stared at the noble for a moment. He received some nervous shifting from the man before he said. “Mi’lord?”



“Is this why you came to me?” Lawrence asked his voice the same, yet something more dangerous showing in his eyes.



The noble swallowed nervously and shook his head. “Y-yes, Mi’lord.”



Lawrence blinked then took a silent breath. “Your request is denied, your tax’s are no heaver then the others and even in time of sub standard harvests have made the tax demand.” Lawrence nearly smiled as he spoke the next sentence. “Guess that pure marble statue your having built will have to be put on hold until your harvests are better.” The look on the nobles face revealed the truth to him, a self centered and self important toad of a man. Lawrence was going to keep a watch on this one.

For more then half the day in the same drone fashion. They all wanted something for nothing but refused to do the oppisite, wanting him to make their lives easier for them without paying a price for it. Lawrence found himself wandering from his train of thought to the training field. Manevour after manevour going through his mind as the nobles droned ever on about their problem's. How his father had managed it was a mystery, one he doubted he would find out.

Why did they bring out their issues with property lines or betrothal worries but what coudl he do at this point other then listen and try to quiet their whines. Well he could behead them but he doubted that would end his noble problems. To bad, it would have been amusing.



“Next.” Lawrence spoke and the next noble filed up to give their case. It was a long time before all the nobles had spoken their piece, most petty cases about money issues and demands for compensation for damage down by bandit raids to their fields. Lawrence was nearly positive that if he heard another noble whine about how they needed more money he was going to kill them all.



“Excuse me my High Lord Lawrence.” The king keyed in on the small man that was now before him on his knee’s bowing. Lawrence blinked as he spoke. “Rise Malcolm, and state your business.”



The man did so, reaching a good height and had the tan of a man in the sun often. Wearing traveler clothes that were quite clean and a smile that looked almost natural with a rather handsome face the man was the head of the caravan and had met Lawrence on a number of occasions. Usually while trying to sell him some mystically rare and quite pricy object. “Good afternoon sir, and a pleasure to see you again and your fine city I am here on behalf of the caravan that is passing through your city and they wish to show you some of their more selective merchandise.”



Lawrence had heard the speech plenty and he turned his eyes to his advisor, his mind free of barrier.



‘What do you say, shall we?’

This was better then the noble's whining at least, and hell maybe he'd get to see something amusing. Like someone killing a noble, well one could hope right?

[Polly Leigh]

Cassandra knew her friend was bored but as King Lawrence had to do his duty and he did it well. She had enjoyed watching her mother and Lawrence's father work the magic of Court and now she sat at Lawrences side seeing it from a completely different view.

Scouting the minds of the room was like looking at a photo album she didn’t stop long enough to linger just view unforced thoughts, it was the ones that tried to cover their thoughts that made her stop and probe further. It was easy to keep her out if you knew she was probing but there were no tails of her having ever been touching one’s mind unless she wanted you to know. She could plant thoughts and use illusions to make the mind believe what she wanted and it would be very real. That is why she and her mother were so important to the Kings of Alb’eret and have kept their Advisor’s gift a secret.

Almost giddy Cassandra thought through the link she and Lawrence shared, “Oh of course, I am most eager to see what is new, there must be new material for dresses and …. ” pausing she turned her attention toward Malcolm.

She had just passed him quickly for she knew he meant no harm to them. But he was trying to get her attention, something he has never done before. Trying not the show the alarm or utter shock to Malcolm Cassandra opened her link to Lawrence so he could see what she was seeing. A woman being forced unto the Caravan, a woman that was been touched by a Mage. Stolen memories, smell of power, brought her for help, tent at dark please help.

“Lawrence.” She thought in response to Lawrence’s question. "we must find out what he knows." Cassandra had to appear calm on the outside but this was her biggest fear and it was hard for her not to feel some panic as she could probe his mind no longer.

[Lakross Saber]

Lawrence kept his emotions on tight reign as he saw the images Cassandra was showing him and his gaze grew harder on the man before him. How did he know? That didn’t matter as much as how many others knew, then they would find out where he had learned this. “I think, we will walk about the town and see what you have brought this time Malcolm.” Was his voice was colder then before?

He had to be honest, it was a truly beautiful event; the caravans arriving, it became a true festival as the various shops and troupes showed their services and wares. The wagon’s emptied of their burdens that were now set up on the streets. Beautiful silks, velvets and cottons weaved into even more beautiful gowns and outfits that were made in the other kingdoms and brought to them for a modest fee. The various shops offering a variety of unique jewelry, uncut gems, charms of unique symbols, beautifully polished stones and literature for a fair price.

More than just the sellers blinding the townsfolk with their wares and flashy speeches were the tumblers, acrobats, story speakers and showmen as they revealed their skills and told their mystical stories of heroes and princesses in tall towers guarded by the beasts of a dark wizard, Knights overcoming the seduction of a beautiful yet evil witch to save their loves so true. The Tumblers showing off their coordinated routines as they flipped over each other, juggled fire, swallowed the sharpest blades and danced through liquid forms to the beats of beautiful drums.

The acrobats balancing on the tiniest of spike points as they held staves with weights on either side, folding themselves into the tiniest of shapes, danced with wheels of fire spinning around their bodies before crowds of memorized on lookers. Men gathered around large barrels of unique ales and liquors that had been thoroughly chilled and prepared for their drinking pleasure. The smells of the meats being cooked was enough to make any man’s mouth water, the spices given the scents strength and surely the taste as well. It was truly a grand event and Lawrence couldn’t help but feel jolly. Well he would have if they were under different circumstances.

~~

Malcolm left them to their own and hurried off to his tent. He didn’t want anyone to know that had contacted the Witch, if indeed he had. He also knew that we would have a lot of explaining to do. He only hoped that the King gave him the chance to explain. King Lawrence could be a bit of a hot head not much unlike his father but Malcolm felt he had a better chance with the old King. His time was short, dark would be here before he was fully prepared.

[Polly Leigh]

Oh how Cassandra wanted to enjoy the Merchants and all the festivities that came along with it but she couldn’t push the thought from her mind that Malcolm knew enough about her to call to her. Thi sis something that he has never done before; in fact she never even found anything thoughts dancing around his mind about her having any magic ability. So he was either a very power user or he had help with an ambulant.

Of course that makes the most since, he is after all “involved” deeply with other Countries and like herself and Lawrence he is considered in a high regard.

This thought made her feel a little better, not much nor would it until she knew just how much Malcolm knew about her, and who has he told. She did keep this train of thought away from Lawrence she didn’t need him feed off her fear.

Fear … such a funny thing fear is, it just sits there in the pit never really going away. Her particular gifts were not common; any King would just love to get their hands on a Reader.
Lawrence, she stole a sideways glance at him, didn't take her for granted because he was more than just her King, he was her friend and she knew that he would do anything to protect her. Night needed to hurry.

[Lakross Saber]

Lawrence wasn’t angry, no anger had passed. Curiosity filled him, along with a determination with what had to be done. Maybe an accident, Malcolm was riding a horse while hunting with the King and fell, neck breaking from impact. He could manage that, maybe got stabbed in a back alley while being mugged, also likely. One thing was certain, he had to know how Malcolm had found out then squash even the tiniest of rumors about it. It couldn’t get out, to much danger posed by that.

As darkness took its place and the flames of a thousand torches lit the city and the true festivities began Lawrence shrugged on the tough leather armor he wore in public. It was gilded and designed with his insignia, but still thick enough to stop a dagger from reaching a vital point to easy.

He was back in the main hall, cloak wrapped around himself and his hood up enough to hide half his face in shadow. No point letting people know their king was among them, bad enough he was leaving through the front entrance but the soldiers leaving for the festivities would provide the cover necessary.

Lawrence was simply waiting on Cassandra to arrive now and hopefully she didn’t wear anything gaudy or attention drawing. Lawrence frowned, it was Cassandra. Of course she would dress up, but maybe she would have the sense not to. It was a nice thought though.

[Polly Leigh]

Cassandra hurried into the Main Hall, it was already dark and she needed answers, she had hated to have to wait to get them but sometimes patience was the only way to achieve what one needed.

Entering the room she saw Lawrence was already waiting on her, she hurried up to him still fussing with her gown. She had decided on full length crimson wrap of silk that folded and wrapped around her like skin, her hair she wore in a loose tail high on her head accented with a flower and a feather of the same shade as her gown. Her deep blue eyes were dressed in black liner as her lips the same crimson color. Her face showed no signs of the worry she felt. Her deepest fear in life was to be exposed.

“Shall we be done with this?” she asked knowing that Lawrence was ready to do whatever it took to keep her safe.

[Lakross Saber]

~Narration~

“Of course, Lynette.” Lawrence clapped once. “She’s wearing the red one.”

“Of course she is.” The muffled voice of the head maid came from the servant’s entrance to the right. Then the older maid came walking out with a large, darkly colored fox fur lined cloak and offered it to Lawrence. “Milord.”

“Thank you Lynette.” Lawrence took the large cloak from the maid and walked over to Cassandra, who was smiling as Lawrence placed the cloak around her shoulders. The clasp was of golden spun thread with a heron symbol forming the lock.

“Oh, what is this? It’s different from the others.” She said in a breathy voice, feeling the soft texture of the fur.

Lawrence pulled the hood down deeper and turned his back to her. “Yes, it was designed to go with about anything your crazy mind can conceive to wear, now let’s go.” Lawrence could feel the woman smiling at him. Women.

Using the departing soldiers and maids as cover the two slipped from the castle unknown and proceeded to make their way towards the Tent that belonged to Malcolm. “Alright,” Lawrence started as the two stopped, pressing against a building as the crowds passed by like a stream. The voices drowned out the noise, talking would have been useless. Lucky that they needed no words. With a simple nod and smile Cassandra was off, pulling the large hood up to hide her face in the shadows as Lawrence watched her disappear into the crowd.

Lawrence blinked then looked to his right to see Cassandra standing right next to him, smiling from her hood. It was freaky how well she could do that. She had described it as weaving the Rycs into a shape that others could see. Lawrence bowed his head to the illusion and it responded with one of its own. Creepy.

So they set off again, he set off again, dodging between crowds with practiced ease as he watched the small tent in the distance grow closer and closer. When they-he-( He would never get used to seeing the illusion) reached the small tent he sighed then pulled open the flap, the illusion walked through and Lawrence followed.

Malcolm was standing in the middle of the large Tent with a drink in one hand, a desk and chairs to the right with small bookcases to the left and a table filled with various bottles.

The man whipped around, looking a bit off, he was sweating and his collar let loose. “Ah, Mi’lord.” Lawrence walked over to the desk, Cassandra 2 close behind and he pulled out a seat for her, Malcolm following them closely. “Please Mi’lord allow me to explain bef-” He didn’t get to finish as Lawrence whipped around and planted his fist directly into the merchant’s face.

Lawrence blinked as the fist flew, and it seemed to pause a few inches from Malcolm’s face before it went the rest of the way. As Malcolm writhed on the floor holding his face, Lawrence looked at his fist, then at the man on the floor. “Malcolm,” Lawrence said as he walked over to the man and planted his foot on his chest, bending over so he could look him in the face. His face was cold, stoic; this was business, and business was never personal. “We are going to have a long talk.”

Malcolm swallowed the blood in his mouth, as of late it seemed he never got a break.

[Polly Leigh]

Cassandra wished she could say she was graceful as she moved through the crowds of buyers, drunks and thieves. Hell she just wished she was graceful at all.

Casting herself as nothing more than a shadow to the eye she hurried to the slave tent where the woman that she saw in Malcolm’s mind was to be sold this night. That wasn’t going to happen. She had already toured the carnival of merchants it wasn’t a matter of knowing where she was going but that of not bring attention to herself.
Ah there, she moved closer seeing the auction was already in play, having seen these before she knew the less valued would be put up first. She despised slavery and that was the basis of many fights between she and Lawrence not that he actually thought owning another person like property was alright he just understood the political and environmental aspect of it. To her it wasn’t worth it but she also knew that this was a fight she would never win.

Moving past the guards Cassandra found herself slipping through the tent flaps finding more guards and a line of men, woman and children; anger filled her as she watched the mistreatment of these people. It was going to be hard for her to leave them behind without help. Of course she couldn’t take on all of them either. But she could leave them with a thought or two.

Searching the many faces until she found the one she was looking for. Yes, the one out of place, the one that looked lifeless almost. Gently reaching out Cassandra poked at the woman’s mind seeking out anything she could which wasn’t much since she was picked up by the slavers. No wait, she was sold. Before that there was … something. Poking harder Cassandra came up against a wall, a very powerful one. This woman’s mind was locked away by someone who knew what they were doing. The weaves were tight and holding strong. She has not seen the likes of this before but she could read the weave which meant the woman was lucky meaning Cassandra could read the threads holding the magic; she can undo what was done.

Making a weave herself rendering the woman invisible Cassandra left unnoticed leading them both back through the streets until they returned to the tent where Lawrence was no doubt questioning Malcolm.

[Lakross Saber]

“If you would just let me explain mi’lord I assure you I would be able to-umph” Malcolm sucked n a quick breath as Lawrence stomped lightly on his chest.

“None of your fast talking Malcolm, I’m not in the mood for it!” Lawrence blinked as he looked down at the man, his ears picking up a strange noise from behind. It was a whistle, like a blade cutti- The man instantly rolled forward, his shoulder slamming into Malcolm’s face before he whipped up and spun around.

He saw a woman recovering from a powerful swing that would have cleaved his head off with a blade that looked too large for her to be wielding. She was a young girl, perhaps nineteen or twenty and was dressed in tights, a dancer or perhaps acrobat, her dark hair cut short. Her amber eyes were decidedly pointed at him; he should have guessed that Malcolm would have body guards.

“Wait now, please can’t you all get along?” Malcolm pleaded as he stood up, the girl gliding around him with practiced ease; defiantly a dancer, a sword dancer. One didn’t flow through sword stances like that. Further more where did she learn them?

“Serah, please get behind me. We shall calm down this man and then you can talk.”

Lawrence raised a brow. We? With a quick pivot and folding of his knee’s Lawrence was turned around and ducking under another blade swing from the first woman’s twin. They looked close enough to be twins anyway, and he quickly shot up, grabbing the second woman’s hilt, his hands clasping over hers as he pivoted again to block the first woman’s swing in a flash of sparks that eliminated all their faces.

Lawrence redirected the bow, causing both blades to slam into the ground, his foot shooting into the first woman’s gut, sending her stumbling backwards as his fist slammed into the seconds face. She let go of the sword to grab her broken nose and Lawrence slammed the hilt into her gut, actually lifting her off the ground from the force before she fell back down, tears forming as she tried not to throw up what she had for lunch unsuccessfully.

“Tip for next time, use lighter blades. The heaviness of your scimitars slows you down to much.” Lawrence looked at Malcolm and raised a brow, his calm demeanor back. “Now, talk fast.” Lawrence lifted the heavy scimitar to point it at Malcolm as he helped the first woman up.

Then the real Cassandra came in, followed by a slave girl. Lawrence raised a brow. “Hmmm, didn’t you say that slavery was wrong, Cassandra?”

[Polly Leigh]

“This one was a real steal.” Cassandra replied moving further into the room. Pulling the hood back she let her deep blue eyes soak up the scene before her.

She wasn’t surprised. “What have you learn?”

[Lakross Saber]

~Narration~

“As of yet, nothing.” Lawrence said, watching the girl next to Malcolm.

“Honestly if you,” Malcolm pointed at him, “And you two,” He pointed at the two girls, the second holding herself up on her hands and knees, the other flinching as he looked at her, “Would just let me explain before you all decided to commence with the violencing!”

Lawrence raised a brow and shared a look with Cassandra. “Violencing?” they both said but Malcolm continued anyway as if he didn’t hear them.

“ I would have explained everything.” Malcolm reached into his pocket and pulled out a large golden coin that had a single red ruby at its center and flipped it to Lawrence who caught it with ease in his free hand. He then flipped it to Cassandra who tried to catch it with grace but fumbled and dropped it.

“Not. A. Word.” She said as Lawrence tried his best not to smile. Years of practice.

Cassandra took a look at the coin and nearly dropped it in surprise, a small gasp escaping her lips and causing Lawrence to speak up. “What is it?”

“It…It was my mothers…” Cassandra said quietly. She closed her eyes and her hand on the coin, directing the flows of Rycs into a weave surrounding the medallion. Yes, it was indeed her mothers, the resonance with the weave proved it, it was gift, a sort of protective charm. Keyed to a specific person.

“Lawrence,” Cassandra said as she opened her eyes. “When you hit Malcolm, like you usually do with any problem you face, did anything strange happen?”

“Time seemed to…pause for a moment.” Lawrence said, let the jab at him go.

Cassandra nodded and looked at the merchant. “What service did you perform to receive such a treasure? Do not lie, Lawrence was dealing with Nobles all day. He needs a punching bag.” Lawrence cracked his neck, a loud and harsh noise that delivered the message of threat.

Malcolm tilted his head in a tiny bow. “I am just a simple trader, mi’lady.”

Lawrence frowned and went to step forward but Cassandra held up a hand. “A trader of what?”

Malcolm smiled and gave the woman a deeper bow, as if conceding something. “A trader of information, Mi’lady. Everything you want to know.” Malcolm stood back up with a different set about his eyes. A harsher one. “For the right price of course.”

“How much for the information of the service you performed for my mother??” Cassandra asked with a chill to her voice.

“My life would be nice.” Malcolm responded and Cassandra gave Lawrence a look.

“Then I suggest speaking quickly, merchant.” Lawrence said in a low voice, akin to a wolf growling.

Malcolm nodded in agreement. “She wanted to know about…” Malcolm shot a look at Lawrence, who twirled the heavy scimitar threateningly and continued. “About the attempt on the previous kings life.”

“Do tell more.” Cassandra said in a neutral tone. “And Lawrence is losing patience, so I suggest haste.” Cassandra wasn’t just saying that, Lawrence’s mind was showing pictures of what he was considering doing to the merchant. He really wanted to protect her, how sweet.

“Well,” Malcolm started, “As I am sure you both now It was-“

Lawrence cut him off. “My brother, we know.” Lawrence’s gaze didn’t even change a bit. “Question is, how do you?”

Malcolm smiled and pointed at the swlave girl. “Everything you wish to know is locked inside of that pretty little head.” Malcolm looked at Cassandra and held up his hand. “The coin if you would, I have answered everything, no?”

Malcolm had a different set about him, he was confident and in charge. This was his territory, dangerous negotiations was what he was used to.

Cassandra used a trick Lawrence had taught her. It was pointless little thing used to impress others and she had done it right this time. Odd, she hadn’t even meant to do it. The coin rolled across her fingers smoothly before she flipped it up and caught it easily before sticking it down her glove sleeve. “When we get what we want from the girl, then you get it back. Lucky your staying for three days isn’t it?”

The smile was wiped from Malcolm’s face and anything he was about to say died when Lawrence let out a short laugh. It sounded humorous, yet gave across a very dangerous feeling. Like a tiger ready to strike at a rabbit.

‘How important is this thing?’ Lawrence though

‘I will know soon enough’ She though back.

“Well, I think we are done here then.” Lawrence said as she stuck the blade into the soft ground, looking back at the girl still trying to regain her breath. “…Do more abdominal training, or just get faster.” Then he walked briskly past Malcolm, who was scowling and held the tent flap open for Cassandra.

“Shall we then?”

~Back in to the castle~

[Polly Leigh]

Cassandra orders for cheese, crackers, meats and chilled wine to be delivered to her workshop while she disappeared into her chambers, Lynette went hurrying away to complete the request as was her job. Two chamber maids stood waiting as she opened the door to her massive chamber, hurrying across the room.

Cassandra immediately started discarding her clothing. A pretty petite brunette started helping her with the head pieces while the blonde started picking up t the things she dropped. The women have been with Cassandra since her birth and they were trusted unconditionally but her.

Her chamber was decorated with different shades of lavenders and whites, silk and netting's draping from the walls and ceiling. Very soft, inviting in a cool way, her bed took up the middle of the room with heavy curtains hiding its’ massive size. Large color pillows sat in place on the two white lounge couches. Tables with trinkets scattered across the room with a Hearth at full blaze. A large vanity with a gold mirror behind it took on corner, a private bath almost as large as her room another and a space for her many shoes and clothes and a balcony with a view of the garden.

Stopping in front of the vanity she pulled the coin out of her glove, she fingered it gently; it had her mother’s essence all over it. Flipping it over her fingers without thinking an image of her mother came to mind and she felt like crying. Not realizing what she was doing until she looked down and dropped the darn thing. Picking it up she tried to roll it without success. This aggravated her.
But she didn’t have time right now; she had to collect a few things and change. Choosing a simple purple gown that flowed about her with sleeves of lace, it was new and perfect for what she was about to do. Thinking of that, she realized she was somewhat nervous, it’s not like she had done this before. There was never a need, until now. It was always dangerous not only the one’s mind she was about plow into but herself as well. Of course that depended on how deep she had to dig.

“Leave my hair straight.” That was the only thing she said while in her rooms, her mind was also on her mother. She had been probing Malcolm's mind and knew that he wouldn’t or couldn’t answer her questions. She was sure it was a way that protected himself or he would not be very successful in his line of work; to his credit he had not lied about the woman having the answers they were looking for. Time to find out who she is.

Her workshop down stairs next to Lawrence’s own study, he never strayed far from her. It was a protective thing with him even though she always carried a dagger or two on her person, she was not a fighter and didn’t want to be.
The room was filled with books and scrolls lining the walls and a very large work table stood in front of a Hearst that made Cassandra seemed small in size. Candles of every color and size stood unlit at the moment scattered about. On top of the pedestal that was next to a large table covered in various bottles of liquids of different hues and colors with a clear space in the center. On the pedestal stood a book about 4’ long and about as thick it was very old and could never be removed from the chamber.

The tray of drink and food arrived just after she did as did Lawrence and the woman. She had not known what he had done with her while she changed. Nor did it matter.

Cassandra indicated for the woman to sit in one of the large winged back chairs, they were over sized and most computable with deep red velvet lining the cushions and backs. There were four of them facing each other before the table.

“I need to eat before I begin as will you,” she spoke directly knowing she understood. To Lawrence “Malcolm didn’t answer anything but the coin was my mothers and it was made to fit the merchant. I will work on it later, right now I want to know who this woman is.” After a moment she asked, “How could we not know that is what he traded? Right under our noses … what else do we not know Lawrence? It is rather disheartened.” Taking a drink before handing a plate of food to the woman then offered one to Lawrence before eating from her own.