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Two of Emeron’s Silver Knights stood at attention to the entrance of the dungeons, and another four in each corner of the jailer’s room. They kept a silent watch only occasionally marred by the hellish shrieks beneath them, manifesting in twitches of discomfort and wayward glances.

Palme cleared his throat. “As you wish. The clothes the assassin wore during his attack bear the colors and sigil of the Pullmans.” He tossed a scrap of ragged cloth onto the table. Carefully stitched atop a striped cloth of red and white, the wings of the Great Eagle were spread open in flight. “Damning evidence to be sure, if it weren’t for the fact that the torturer got him to confess to stripping the clothes and armor off a corpse.”

The prince’s face clouded as he made a noise of distaste. “A man will say anything to escape the torturer’s knives.”

“True enough, but this one was telling the truth.” Palme’s smile was anything but pleasant. “I’ll stand on it as Lord Commander of the Crownguard when we have a formal trial. Assuming he doesn’t bleed out on the dungeon come sunrise.”

His face remained unchanged. “Then Lord Kieran has no involvement in this plot.” It was not a question as much as it was an affirmation.

“There’s no sure guarantee, but the evidence points to their innocence. He is among one of your family’s closest allies. The Pullmans have nothing to gain and everything to lose if they were involved in a conspiracy of this…severity.”

“…very well,” Emeron responded. “I will speak to Lord Kieran in the morning and inform him of what’s happened…but that does not explain the presence of the alchemist’s fire. The only thing that’s keeping that bastard alive is the question as to who provided him with the damn fire.”

(cont.)

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“Agreed,” he nodded. “That is the most concerning question.”

“I would not be worried for a large vase or jar. That limits the possibilities to the other four great houses. But a small flask the size of a thumb…even the lowliest baron could scrounge enough arums to pay for that amount of chemical.”

“Which is why this will take time,” Palme sighed, regarding the door leading down to the torture chambers. “He was not about to give any names the last time I was down there. That makes it all the harder for Armand to find the right spot to cast his agents. Of course, we could spread our network as wide as we could, but-”

An armored gauntlet crashed onto the table, disturbing the contents pre-arranged on the faded wood. “Someone tried to kill my sister,” Prince Emeron Crowmond snarled, a fierce look in his eyes. “In a time where all our actions, mine own especially, are watched closely by both nobles and peasantry alike. We cannot afford to look weak, now of all times. The Crown will have its justice, and it must come swift and without mercy. I will see every one of these blackguards’ heads mounted atop pikes come the next moon.”

The two knights standing outside came at the sound of the noise, swords half-drawn before Palme waved for them to stand down. At the sight of their prince unharmed and merely inflamed, they nodded once, going back to their duty outside.

Eventually, Emeron exhaled deeply, retracting his fist and running a hand through sweat-streaked hair. “Gods above, I’m sorry. The journey home was long, cold and miserable by all other accounts. And just when I find respite and reprieve from sorting out the troubles of the Empire...we have this mess to deal with…”

(cont.)

Aww yeah, time for best Kaz quest

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>>47529681
The corner of Palme’s mouth tugged upwards as he clapped an armored hand on one of the prince’s shoulders. A gesture no one else in the realm could ever hope to perform. “There’s nothing to forgive, old friend. I am just as angered as you are, but I don’t have to bear the burden of the realm on my shoulders. I only have a small load in comparison to your weight.”

“That ‘small load’ you’re talking about happens to be your duty to my family,” the prince shot back with dry tone. “There’s nothing diminutive about keeping them alive.”

“Ah. Well, then it is only small when one compares our collective responsibilities together.”

“Give me a field of battle,” Emeron exhaled, reclining in his seat to put his boots upon the table. “Give me ten thousand good men and all of the crown’s enemies lined on the opposite side. One glorious charge to end all of our troubles, and then we can all go home to raise families and run our kingdom safely. I’ve neither the humor nor the patience for all this cloak and dagger trickery.”

“One day, you will have to find it,” Palme replied grimly, exhaling a visible breath of air as his eyes flicked upwards, looking past the overhead stone ceiling. “And may come sooner than you think.”

“I do not covet the throne so much to wish for father to succumb to his fever,” he shot back with fierce rebuttal.

“No prince is ever ready to be king, your highness. But that is the reality that we find ourselves in, regardless of our personal desires. It’s better to be as ready as you can, lest the moment catches you unaware.”

He groaned, dramatically raising a hand to his forehead in mock pain. “You’ve been spending too much time with Ansell. I have enough sages and advisors spouting their sound advice like a courtyard fountain without your voice adding to the noise.”

(cont.)

>>47529717
fight me, both are great faggot

>>47529812
>Give me ten thousand good men
>needing more than 20 good men
Emeron is a shit commander.

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>>47529812
“Perhaps, but just like my blade, I like to keep my mind honed and well sharp as well.”

“…aye, so it is,” Emeron begrudgingly acquiesced. He managed a tired smile before a brusque air came about him. “The man who apprehended Ellana’s assassin…Marcus Painel, was it?”

Palme tilted his head in confirmation. “Aye, it was.”

“The day I approve of his initiation into the Crownguard finds the man saving my sister only four hours later. What are the chances for that to happen?”

He shrugged. “Divine intervention.” It was as neutral of an answer as he was going to give. “The gods were smiling upon your family today.”

“I don’t doubt that. Remind me to make a donation to the Ecclesiarch.” Emeron stood up, stretching the kinks out of his body. “I’ll have to give Painel my proper thanks later. But since we’re on the topic of my sister’s Crownguard…”

The Lord Commander’s eyes narrowed. “Go on…”

=======

Even with the morning cry of the rooster come the dawn, Princess Ellana remained fast asleep in her chambers. The sound of her soft breathing is only punctuated by the sound of distant townsmen getting ready for the day, and the cooing of birds taking shelter by the windows. She occasionally fidgets in her sleep, frowning and tossing around the covers, but her slumber remains undisturbed and continual.

You get up from your chair, taking a moment to ease the tension in your body brought on by your vigil. Eight hours of making sure no one and nothing came close to disturbing your sworn charge.

Although, that might have to change. Even with the thick door of her room barred shut, you can hear the sound of bustling servants and maids along the royal quarters. Doubtless the rest of her family will be already awake, if not about to rise.

Perhaps it is best for her to follow suit...?

>Gently wake her up.
>Let her sleep in.

>>47529983
>Gently wake her up.

>>47529983
>Gently wake her up.

>>47529983
>“The day I approve of his initiation into the Crownguard finds the man saving my sister only four hours later. What are the chances for that to happen?”
PURE COINCIDENCE GOY.
>Gently wake her up.

>>47529983
>>Gently wake her up.

>>47529983
>Gently wake her up.

>>47529983
>>Gently wake her up.

>>47529968
It's 20 good men per enemy faction, he just has a LOT of enemies.

>>47529983
>Gently wake her up.

>>47529968
Not everyone can pull a malroy anon.

>>47530063
I still can't believe we actually did that in Malroy quest.

>>47530073
Its less that it was managed, and more how it was.

Considering it was fail stealth, insta kill guard, fail stealth, insta kill guard, a good 3 or 4 times.

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>Gently wake her up

You slide off your gauntlets, gently placing them down on a nearby table to minimize the noise of metal crashing against metal. There is dirt, blood and grime on your hands. Frowning, you reach for a jug of water set aside the dresser, and run a small bit of it along your skin. You thoroughly begin scrubbing away the remnants of last night’s struggle, only stopping when your hands are as clean as they can get. Without the aid of soap, of course.

“Princess,” you softly whisper, approaching her bedside with gentle steps. “…it’s time for you to wake up.”

She seems to respond on an instinctive level at the sudden noise, but all she does is moan and curl deeper into the sheets.

The ghost of a smile tugs at your lips. It apparently doesn’t matter whether you’re low or high born: both classes of a similar age responded the same way to his attempts to get them out of bed. The long nights in the slums had excised a high demand for the younger members of the Locusts.

You drop a gentle hand to her shoulder, and shake it slightly. “Princess…it’s time to wake up,” you repeat, with a tone you never expected to use ever again in your lifetime. It would be a lie to say that it didn't hurt. "You don’t want to worry your family now, do you?”

That seems to finally snap her out of her dreams. Golden eyes stare up at you, glazed over from fatigue and the aftereffects of the prior night. They blink once, twice before comprehension finally dawns upon their owner. “…Marcus…?”

You offer her a polite bow. “The one and only.”

Ellana stifles a yawn, blearily pulling herself up into a seated position. “…what…what happened?”

You pull up the chair you used to stand vigil, and ease yourself back into it. “It’s a long story…”

>You told Ellana what happened after she passed out.

(cont.)

“…and then I’ve been keeping an eye on you since.”

For a moment, she is silent, twisting the bedsheets with delicate hands. Then, she replies: “Oh…I see…”

Her voice remains subdued. Not that you can blame her. With her bloodline, her age made no difference when it came to the enemies of the Crown, and those that would see the Crowmonds suffer. She was just as much an exploitable target as her eldest brother was.

But her next words are full of earnest, and her eyes regain a little bit of their usual shine. “Thank you very much for saving my life.”

That actually manages to set a light tinge of red at your cheeks, but you force it down and mask it with another bow. “I was only performing the duty I was sworn to-“

A knock at the door prevents you from speaking any further. You motion for Ellana to stay in bed before walking towards it, one of your daggers at the ready. But there was little need for concern. Five of Emeron’s Silver Knights stand surrounding a cohort of maidservants and ladies-in-waiting. The servants regard you with a look of trepidation, while the soldiers remain impassive.

“We’re here to relieve you,” the leader of the knights says, a mustached man with a plume of feathers in his helm . “Ser Palme would have you recuperate and tend to your needs. You will, of course, resume your watch come two hours after midday.”

You hesitate, turning back to Ellana to show her the visitors at the door. She seems to have sharper ears than you give her credit for. The princess nods in response to the order and gestures for them to come in. “I’ll be fine, Marcus. I promise.”

…you can’t really argue when her eyes are like that. Picking up your gauntlets, you give your charge one final bow and farewell before exiting her chambers.

>Head to the Crownguard barracks.
>Visit the kitchens for a meal.

>>47530476
>Visit the kitchens for a meal.

>>47530476
>Visit the kitchens for a meal.
Refuel and all that jazz.

>>47530476
>Head to the Crownguard barracks.

>>47530476
Food

>>47530476
>Visit the kitchens for a meal.
We're probably starved and I think we still owe a knight a duel so lets not do that hungry

>>47530476
>Visit the kitchens for a meal.

Food, then we can go sleep.

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The rumbling of your stomach has little to do with your decision to head for the kitchen. With Emeron’s victory feast cut off, you have a small glimmer of hope for the better bits and pieces of food to be available for your consumption. Sure, a wedge of cheese and dried beef was nice, but even you aren’t immune to the possibility of a better meal.

>>Kitchens

To your surprise, the kitchens are minimally staffed, a sharp contrast to the bustling day that you found it in the last time you were here. In total, you expect that only fifteen are laboring away, cleaning the mess from last night and preparing simple meals for their masters. And the head cook herself is absent as well. Perhaps it is her day off.

You make your way towards the Crownguard larder without any ceremony or grand standing. And for the most part, the kitchen staff ignores you, too swept up in their own duties to pay attention to anything else. Your stomach makes another assertion of its hunger, this time a little louder, and you do your best to hurry onwards to your destination before anyone decides to investigate the presence of a wild animal in the kitchen-

“Watch ou-!”

CRASH.

-only to jump in your tracks and instinctively turn to find the source of the noise.

You blink incredulously as you see a familiar maidservant rubbing her backside. Her face bears a look of utter mortification on her face as she stares helplessly at the silverware scattered across the stone floor. The others direct cursory looks, derive their fair share of laughter, and return to their own work without further preamble. She casts pleading gazes in all directions before dejectedly moving to clean up her mess by herself.

>Head straight to the larder, don’t look back.
>Help her pick up the silverware once more.
>Custom option.

>>47530699
>>Help her pick up the silverware once more.
How much debt is she in from breaking shit I wonder

>>47530699
>Help her pick up the silverware once more.

>>47530699
>Help her pick up the silverware once more.

>>47530699
>>Help her pick up the silverware once more.
Christ.

>>47530699
>Help her pick up the silverware once more.

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>>47530699
>Help her pick up the silverware once more.

>>47530699
>>Head straight to the larder, don’t look back.
Just to go against the hivemind

Le sigh. Folks want me to mow the lawn. By the time I finish that, dinner's gonna be ready. So...I'll be gone for at least an hour.

Please keep thread bumped. Have worldbuilding info.

>Great Houses
>Crowmond
>Hastings
>Lawcomb
>Rosarn
>Tarmund

>Houses sworn to the Crowmonds
>Bellmore: Purple-Black Stallion, "Courage Calls Us Forward"
>Goodyre: Silver-Red Oak Tree, "Our Roots Go Deep"
>Mazur: Inverted Sword through book: "Knowledge Is Power"
>Pullman: Red-white Great Eagle: "Beware the Crimson Sky"
>von Roie: "Deeds, Not Words"

>Officers of the Crown
>Kieran Pullman, High Steward (Chamberlain/Palatine)
>Vincent Hastings, Grand Chancellor
>Alistair von Roie, Keeper of Law (Justicar)
>Gregorius Lawcomb, Master Financier (Treasurer)
>Orici Palme, Lord Commander of the Crownguard (housecarls)
>Jory Amand, The Great Eye (Spymaster)

>>47530902
>>Jory Amand, The Great Eye (Spymaster)
>not Roger A Muirebe.

>>47530699
>Head straight to the larder, don’t look back.
aren't we still bloody, or at least our armor?

>>47530699
Help pick up the silverware.

>>47530699
>>Help her pick up the silverware once more

And I'm back. Writing...

>>47531432
Not really. You were careful not to make too much of a mess last night. Had to keep the guy alive for Palme and Emeron, after all.

>>47531650
But "clean enough for silverware" clean?

Or is this all a setup so she freaks out over a flake of dried blood and faints?

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>Help her pick up the silverware once more.

A rueful smile tugs at the corner of your mouth as you shift your focus away from the larder. You’ve never been one to put stock into the gods, save for solemn oaths and the occasional profanity. But with that said, they certainly have an odd sense of humor.

Once more, you take a knee to the ground and begin assisting the maidservant, much to her great surprise. Spoons and forks are gingerly scooped together in great clumps of metal, and you take great care to individually pick up each knife. Some things bear repeating, but you have little desire to see her prick open her finger once more.

She seems to recognize you, though, even as her hands and fingers move about to grab as much of the clutter as she can. “Oh, it’s you! You’re the Crownguard from the other day, if my memory serves correctly. You also…helped me back then…”

“It’s no trouble,” You say as you drop your batch of utensils into her basket. “And I’m…not the kind of person to ignore someone if they need help.” That cuts off any attempts to get you to leave her alone.

Once you're finished, the maidservant takes a moment to straighten her clothes before standing up. As she regards you with a grateful expression, something flashes through her mind and her eyes go wide. “Oh, how rude of me!” She gathers a bit of her skirt’s fabric and curtsies politely. My name is Ane, ser. Ane Linde from the Vale.”

With her basket of utensils still in your hand, you do your best to give a proper bow in response. “Marcus Painel, Crownguard to Princess Ellana Crowmond. And once more, there is no ‘ser’ attached to the beginning of my name. I am no knight.”

You didn’t think it was any possible for her eyes to go any wider. She quickly proves you wrong. But to her credit, she does keep a good job of using a subdued voice, a tense whisper. “That Painel? The one who saved the princess last night from an assassin?”

(cont.)

>>47532128
>That Painel? The one who saved the princess last night from an assassin?”

A CrownGUARD guarding royalty? Who woulda thunk it?

>>47532128
The maid is obviuosly a spy. Her clumsiness is in fact a cover for her super elite coordination and attack skills.

>>47532188
She's actually Jory Amand the Spymaster. This is her day job.

>>47532188
nah, her clumsiness is because she spends all night training instead of sleeping. She's obviously in training to be a counterspy.

>>47532128
A quick glance around the kitchen finds that while most of the staff are focused on their job, there are at least four others without anything to do. No, that isn’t true. They aren’t working as much as they’re observing the two of you have your talk.

It is an odd sight: a Crownguard and a clumsy maidservant. It would certainly break the monotony of daily living in the kitchens, and certainly attract some attention. When was the last time they were able to leave the confines of the palace?

But as for her knowing your name…the only ones in attendance for your ceremony were the upper echelons of nobility. And the last time you checked, the only servants in attendance were the princess’ ladies-in-waiting, not cooks.

So there’s little wonder why no one of the serving class would know about you save for hearsay and rumor.
>“Aye, but it’s no big deal.” [Humble]
>“Yes, the one and only.” [Proud]
>“I did what I had to do.” [Solemn]

Jesus Christ, you guys are paranoid. I mean, there is a bit of shadowrunning going on...but really?

>>47532237
>I mean, there is a bit of shadowrunning going on...but really?
I can only speak for me, but I'm joking and fucking around.

>>47532237
>“I did what I had to do.” [Solemn]

>>47532237
>“Aye, but it’s no big deal.” [Humble]
"That's the job description right? I'd make a poor Crownsguard otherwise."

>>47532237
>>“I did what I had to do.” [Solemn]

>>47532237
>Just a plain "Yes."

>>47532237
>>“I did what I had to do.” [Solemn]

>>47532237
>“Aye, but it’s no big deal.” [Humble]
seconding >>47532274

I am 80% joking, 15% laying down the forecast so I can say I TOLD YOU SO, and 5% passively spitballing ideas

>>47532237
>“I did what I had to do.” [Solemn]

>>47532237
>>“I did what I had to do.” [Solemn]

>>47532237
>>“Yes, the one and only.” [Proud]

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>>“I did what I had to do.” [Solemn]

“I did what I had to do,” you intone as you hand her the basket. Your statement is neither braggadocious or modest in its proclamation. It is only honest. “Which is the duty expected of me. Nothing more, nothing less.”

Ane seems to be slightly cowed at the solemnity of your words, but manages to recover quickly enough. “Y-yes, of course. From what I heard, they said that you performed above expectations.”

“Oh?” You can’t help but tilt your head in an inviting gesture. “What do they say of me?”

Ane seems to relax a little bit as she leans in to say: “I heard from a steward serving the lords that you slew five assassins and subdued three more. A cup bearer to Princess Adrianna swears that you killed all twenty of them with only ten seconds, a broken knife and a chamberpot.”

You can’t help but snort in amusement, especially in response to that last one. Rumors and hearsay are long friends of yours, especially the ones that made you out to be more dangerous than you are. Which is to say that you are already dangerous, and their sordid tales only served to make you into some kind of pseudo-legend.

And then you frown suddenly remembering the mess you had left behind when Ellana saved your life. What kind of tales and fevered nightmares would come from that night of slaughter, when the streets and snowfall ran red with blood?

Nothing pleasant, without a doubt.

Ane continues in spite of your thoughts, “And then there was the one where-”

In the distance, one of the servants shouts for clean silverware, cursing as to its elusive whereabouts. With a shrill “eep”, Ane quickly aligns the silverware in her basket. “…if you’d like, perhaps you can come back later? There are many stories about you that I haven’t told you yet.”

>“I would love to come back.”
>“If I have the time, but yes.”
>“No thank you, that’s alright.”

>>47532749
>“If I have the time, but yes.”
Gossip will probably be important in our line of work.

>>47532749
>>“If I have the time, but yes.”
SHE'S A SPY

>>47532749
>“If I have the time, but yes.”

>>47532749
>“No thank you, that’s alright.”
Eh, while we are somewhat interested in gossip for productive purposes, I'd prefer it would be about something we don't already know about.

>>47532749
>“If I have the time, but yes.”

>>47532838
Humoring her is how you get to that gossip that you don't know about.

>>47532749
>“If I have the time, but yes.”

>>47532749
>“If I have the time, but yes.”

>>47532749
>>“If I have the time, but yes.”
I wanna hear the one about the chamberpot

>“If I have the time, but yes.”

“My time as the sole Crownguard to Princess Ellana will undoubtedly take a lot of time,” You begin, quickly continuing before she completely deflates, “But if I have the moments to spare, then yes. I suppose there’s merit in hearing these tall tales.”

Ane visibly brightens, and smiles for the first time you’ve seen her. “I look forward to it, then. If you wish to find me, you can always ask one of the other servants. They’ll be able to show you where I am.” Another shout for the silverware causes her to wince, and speed up her words. “Thank you for the assistance once more, ser. I bid you a good morning.”

And with that, she scurries off as fast as she can…no, not as fast as she can. She’s moving slower, all things considering, and she hasn’t tripped yet. Perhaps there’s hope for this clumsy maidservant after all…

You frown. She still called you 'ser'.

>You have unlocked a contact: Maidservant Ane!
>You may visit Ane whenever you have free time.
>Ane will provide you with the latest gossip and hearsay of the smallfolk.

With a final wave in her general direction, you resume your trek to the pantry. And the smell of fresh food almost brings a tear to your eye.

The assassin forced you to miss last night’s meal, and you had to Dance with an empty stomach. But you quickly make up for that, gathering enough food to compensate for the loss. And it goes without saying that you don’t gorge like a plague-starved peasant. Lucien taught you that much when it came to manners, at least.

>>One meal later.

You return the tray back to the kitchen, and leave with a full stomach and a satisfied demeanor about you. A glance at the window shows that it’s still morning, and would not be midday for another four hours. Adding to the two that Palme gave you, it’s a total of six hours to recuperate.

>Choose one:
>Crownguard Barracks (Palme, Crownguard, ???)
>Grey Archives (Magister Ansell, ???)

>>47533143
>Grey Archives (Magister Ansell, ???)

>>47533143
>Crownguard Barracks (Palme, Crownguard, ???)
I think we owed someone a spar or fight or pissing match or whatever.

>>47533143
>Crownguard Barracks (Palme, Crownguard, ???)

>>47533143
>Grey Archives (Magister Ansell, ???)
if alchemist's fire was involved, maybe it might be good to research what else might come next.

>>47533143
>Crownguard Barracks (Palme, Crownguard, ???)

>>47533143
>Grey Archives (Magister Ansell, ???)
Let's do some research and actually try using are recuperating time for recuperating.

>>47533143
>>Grey Archives (Magister Ansell, ???)

>Grey Archives

The last time you saw her, Bellatrix exacted a promise of a sparring match out of you, your two blades against her spear and sword. You have very little doubt that with the attack on Ellana, the knightess would be stuck to Princess Adrianna at the hip. Duty would ultimately trump over your mutual stand-off. And the others would be with their charges as well, leaving an empty barracks all alone and empty.

Still, there are better things to do. You’ve never been one to be content as an idle, lying around all day with nothing to do. And since you were given permission by the man who owned the place, you see little reason as to why you shouldn’t take advantage of it.

>>The Grey Archives

The Grey Archives are located in the western wing of Kathmere Keep, a sprawling room filled with shelves upon shelves of books, scrolls, treatises and almost every medium that one could write with. At least three stories high, with shelves even reaching the ceiling, it is said that (almost) all of the known world’s knowledge is stored here, in this bastion of learning.

All it takes is one look at the insignia of your armor, the shielded crown, for the elderly clerk to let you through. A few moments of cursory searching nets you with a few interesting tomes, predominantly those concerning alchemist’s fire and the latest reports from holdfasts and lords across the realm. And a few other minor notes, such as genealogies and miscellaneous texts.

You seat yourself at a table adjacent to the window, the sun casting a luminous yellow light through the stained glass sigil of the Magisters: an open book. The morning sunlight is your guide as you open the first tome, and begin perusing through its contents…

>Roll 1d100 + 10 Knowledge
>Best of three

Rolled 15 + 10 (1d100 + 10)

>>47533570
Rev up those ones.

Rolled 57 + 10 (1d100 + 10)

>>47533570

Rolled 26 + 10 (1d100 + 10)

>>47533570

Rolled 81 + 10 (1d100 + 10)

>>47533570
Can't read cap'n.

>>47533570
>>Knowledge: ++
Wouldn't that be +20 boss?

>>47533654
...son of a whore. I'll just add +10 to the first three, then. So...35, 77, 46? Okay, I can deal with that.

Writing...

>>47533729
Did we pass the DC?

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>>47533585
>>47533586
>>47533612
You didn’t expect to find the formulae to alchemist’s fire in the book proper. Which is a disappointment, but not an overall loss, as the book itself is a history of the development of alchemist’s fire. You read about its humble origins, supposedly a gift from the gods to the Predecesors, and its wide uses and applications throughout history. A turning point in the Battle of the Crimson King, where catapults flung jars of the stuff to burn the Crimson Tyrant, his armies, and their to the ground, and many more tales.

But that’s not what’s important. Even though the book itself was only five years old, it still had a list of the areas that could produce the substance without the need to import from other parts of the Empire. A short list, with only three holdfasts that held jurisdiction over each one.

The Mazurs, sworn bannermen to the Crowmonds, and masters of the Lost Mountains to the Southern borders.

The Hermans, those who rode for the Rosarns, unrivaled warriors of the Deep Wood of the North.

And the Athans, retainers of the Hastings, and the proud masters of the White Bay, to the Eastern fringes.

Three primary sites of investigation. Perhaps you should relay this information to Palme when you get the chance…

But you digress. You continue reading, flipping through the pages for any relevant information or useful trivia.

>35, 77, 46

In a compendium detailing the various plant life within five miles of the capital, you find the locations of many ingredients used in the poison recipes Lucien taught you. It will take the better portion of four days to harvest a supply to make it worthwhile, but perhaps that’s better than asking Palme for poisonous herbs and plants.

>The locations for Tier One poisons have been recorded in your journal!
>You can use your free time to gather ingredients for your poisons!

(cont.)

>>47534054
>Best of three
>Takes all three numbers in account

Nani?

>>47534079
I record all three rolls for archiving purposes. Just the way I do things, I still take the highest roll.

Writing...

But eventually, the stresses of the day eventually catch up to you. And no matter how hard you try, you can’t resist the pull of slumber, and the sweet call to lay your head down and rest in the warm sunlight…

>>???

“Ahem.”

You wake up with a start, to find yourself staring at the uncompromising and wrinkled face of Magister Ansell. And he does not look happy.

Your body moves of its own accord, quickly shoving the chair back and bolting upright. Panicked eyes dart towards the window: it is past midday, but not too late in the afternoon. You slept for at least a good majority of your recuperation time. You can still make it in time to Ellana in time for the changing of the guard.
But that’s not the immediate concern.

At your reaction, the look on Ansell’s face gives way to a cheeky grin. “You are far from the first student to fall asleep in my archives, young Painel. And neither will you be the last one. I will not become irked or angry at the natural order of things, though I will have been extremely irritated if you drooled on my only copy of ‘A Complete Genealogy of Aderaveth’. Seeing as you haven’t, I have little to no reason to be angry at you.

“Now, if you will hand me back my blanket…”

It takes you a moment to realize what he’s talking about. Draped over your shoulders, a soft-spun blanket hangs loosely over your body. You gingerly pinch at it before handing it back to Ansell with a bow and a murmured apology.

“Now run along. Doubtless Ellana will begin to miss you, shortly. No knight should keep his lady waiting.”

>>Ellana’s Quarters

You find the second princess still in her quarters, with the sight of the Silver Knights outside of her door a welcome sight. But all is not well. She’s having a muffled argument with someone. From the combination of the voices, it sounds like the Queen, as well as Ser Palme.

>Eavesdrop.
>Enter the room.

>>47534211
>>Enter the room.
Knock and announce yourself before entering.

>>47534211
>Enter the room.
No reason to eavesdrop. We're supposed to be here.

>>47534211
>>Enter the room.
Knock first.

>>47534211
>Enter the room.

>>47534211
>Enter the room.
somethingsomething, beating a dead horse

>Enter the room
>But knock first

The sound of your fist impacting the door causes all of the voices behind the varnished wood to cease abruptly. A muffled “who is it?” emits from the door, probably Ser Palme given the dry inflection of tone.

“It’s Painel,” you answer, tapping your foot errantly on the ground. “And you wanted me back here two hours after midday, last time I checked.”

“…come in.”

With a nod to the guards, you let yourself in the room. Little has changed, save for the two pairs of Silver Knights standing by the windows. Not that there was much to guard, considering that they were only one and a half feet wide, barely large enough for a child to enter through. Although considering you were well into your training at that tender age…

You shake your head of negative thoughts as you address your Queen and your Lord Commander, taking a moment to bow before talking. “I’m sorry, was I interrupting something?”

Palme exhales deeply before addressing you, “No. In fact, you could not have come at a better time. We were just discussing Ellana, so it’s best to have you here as well.”

Frowning, you pull up a seat and sit yourself down. “Is there a problem?”

“There is nothing currently plaguing my daughter,” The Queen says in a sonorous alto, wrapping a clothed arm around Ellana, who squirms at the touch before nestling in comfortably on her mother’s lap. “But what does matter is an issue of…security.”

Palme looks like he wants to tear his hear out. “Your Grace, hiding her in her bedchambers is what the enemy assassins expect of us to do. We need to move her to a different location until we resolve this mess. The von Roies and Pullmans are more than willing to accommodate-”

(cont.)

>>47534494
Take her to Markus' dad's place. No assassin will ever think to search for her in an assassin hideout!

File: Queen Melianna Crowmond.jpg (98 KB, 752x1063)

98 KB JPG

“And how would your killers reach my daughter’s chambers? Would they scale the walls of her tower, like some misbegotten wooer? If that is what you are so worried about, then I will have my son station more of his guards, both at the base of her tower and by the windows as she sleeps. And what of traveling on the road? I trust in my husband’s allies just as much as he does, but you cannot speak for the possibility of brigands and highway men.”

“They won’t try for a direct attack after they failed. Their methods are going to be more subtle, more insidious. I have little desire to soil Ellana’s ears with the sordid details, but you undoubtedly know what I’m referring to. And brigands? Not likely since Prince Emeron just returned victorious against one of the most notorious groups to plague the northlands.”

“Emeron has duties as Crown Prince to attend to while my husband lies ill. He cannot simply abandon scheduled appointments and council meetings at the mere drop of a hat. No matter how much he would, if he agreed to your proposal.”

A subtle poison introduced into the washing basin.

A deadly fall from a long flight of stairs.

A bedwarmer’s coals explode in the brazier.

All of the possible scenarios go through your head as Palme and the Queen continue arguing. All of the ways you’ve been taught to kill people, how you can get away without getting caught. Your fist tightens as your mind envisions Ellana’s smiling face in each of those possibilities.

You’d be dead before that would happen.

“You there. Painel.”

The queen calls for you, and she affixes you with a stern glare. “You are the one directly in charge of my daughter’s well being, as well as the one who caught that cowardly blackguard. Tell me, what do you believe will keep my daughter safer?

>Support Melianna, have Ellana stay in Kathmire Keep.
>Support Palme, move Ellana to a different holdfast.

>>47534607
>Support Palme, move Ellana to a different holdfast.
Kathmire may have been compromised since one would be assassin got close. If they had any more plots in Kathmire we hinder them by moving the Princess.

>>47534607
>>Support Palme, move Ellana to a different holdfast.

>>47534607
>I could, but it would still be best to move her to another location. Somewhere where only those you trust most would know of.

>>47534607
>>Support Melianna, have Ellana stay in Kathmire Keep.

>>47534607
>Support Melianna, have Ellana stay in Kathmire Keep.
If they're smart enough to use even ahlf the methods I have run across, they'll be smart enough to have someone watching even now. The second we move her a message will go out and her new place of residence will be known within a day. I'd much rather stay here in a place I am familiar with, and where we can dictate security, than in the home of a lord I do not know, and with a security a I'm not sure I can trust to respond properly. That's disregarding them hiring an assassin with bow and small amount of alchemist's fire taking a cheap shot from range and blowing up the carriage. If they got so close on their first try we must assume that anything less than the Crownguard is compromised on some level.

>>47534607
>>Support Melianna, have Ellana stay in Kathmire Keep.

>>47534607
>>Support Palme, move Ellana to a different holdfast.
If we had her stay here, we could possibly send a decoy over to a different holdfast. But that's going to be useless when there are reasons besides Ellana to sneak into this place and accidentally find that she's still here.

Honestly the safest thing is probably a triple bluff. WE send a sorta obvious decoy out, we have a very good decoy stay here in the castle, and then you send me out on a mission of some sort of importance and I take Ellana with me and disappear, only contacting the Crownguard at certain times until the threat has passed.

>>47534607
>Support Melianna, have Ellana stay in Kathmire Keep.
Moving Ellana just creates more chances for assassins to ambush on the road. Here, in Kathmire Keep, we at least have home field advantage.

>>47534780
"You hired a paranoid assassin and that's what you got goddamnit!"

>>47534780
do we have that many little girl decoys? They don't grow from trees, you know.

>>47534607
>>Support Palme, move Ellana to a different holdfast.

>>47534812
We can use a boy for the first one. Trappage

It was close, but unless my fatigue is impairing my sight, 'support Palme' wins.

Writing...

>>47535068
It's a tie actually 4 and 4

>>47535098
Really? Because here's the breakdown:

>Palme
>>47534649
>>47534660
>>47534662
>>47534689
>>47534895

>Meliana
>>47534666
>>47534682
>>47534686
>>47534807

Unless I'm misinterpreting something, the votes look pretty clear to me, anon.

>>47535068
How many little girls do we have on hand?

>>47535127
Nowhere near enough to do that kind of thing. I am using my powers as QM to veto that choice because as good of an idea as it is in theory...

No. Just no.

Writing...

>>47535141
WHAT?! Don't we have a secret little girl defense force at hand for these specific situations.

>>47535153
>Defense force
They would be more like sacrifices in this case anon.

>>47535141
Hey, we aren't the best and sneakiest and most paranoid of the CrownGuard for no reason. Whatever it takes to protect the VIP you know.

>>47535164
Even if it means condemning young girls to death? Painel is competent to a fault but I don't think he is cruel.

>>47535164
Except we also have a heart anon.

>>47535174
>>47535176
If the others do thier job, the girls would be fine.

>>47535174
Exactly. He failed as an assassin for a reason.

>>47535163
Little Girl Suicide Squad doesn't inspire confidence in recruits.

>>47535182
You seem to be under the impression that we would want things left to chance. A plan with many moving parts has many more chances to fail. If we take away options and then safeguard the princess ourselves, it gives us more chances of success. Plus throwing young girls into harms way is pretty shitty.

>>47535207
We would safeguard the princess ourselves. We'd go ghost and vanish while the crown guard use the moving prices to flush out the leak.

>>47535231
Again. Being shitty is not who we are. We don't see lives as chess pieces. We aren't completely cold and dead. Even if this plan has merits, it is pretty clear we'd never actually consider it as an option in character. Time to move on.

You weigh the options in your head, mulling over their advantages and disadvantages before rendering your judgment. “…I believe that moving her to a different holdfast will keep her safe.”

The Queen maintains a stoic front at your words, but she can’t fully hide the twitch of displeasure that the corner of her mouth makes. And Palme isn’t above gloating, if the quick smirk on his face is any indication. But you quickly continue with your argument before things get out of hand.

“If one assassin managed to make it through our guards, we cannot exclude the possibility of Kathmire being compromised. If they have any other plots here, we hinder them by moving the princess. As well as other members of the royal family if they’re in any danger,” You add at the end. “Just in case the attack on Ellana was only the first of many against the royal family.”

Palme’s smirk fades, and his lips purse in a tight grimace. “It’s...not out of the realm of possibility. You’re right. Adrianna and Allanus could very well be in danger as well.”

“…” Melianna remains silent, even as Ellana plays with errant strands of her mother’s hair. “And you truly believe there is no other option?”

“No better option,” You correct her as you keep a sharp eye towards the windows and entrances. “We could very well leave her here as well, but…the risk still remains. Regardless, it goes without saying that she, if not all the royal family barring Emeron, need to depart from Kathmire as soon as possible.”

“…very well then,” Melianna solemnly intones, stroking her daughter’s hair and coming stray pieces into proper form. Her voice is deathly serious, as her eyes pierce you with a transfixing look. “You are the one responsible for the life of my child. And know that should you fail, there is no place, no sunless valley or distant mountain that will protect you from my wrath.”

(cont.)

>>47535308
My Queen, if I failed I would return to face it fully, I do not intend to fail. I would rather die.

>>47535308
...you could have sworn that the temperature got colder. Because aside from the pale skin and frost-blue eyes, the queen’s roots as a Tarmond are showing. That was as blatant as a northern death threat that you were ever going to get.

Palme unfurls a map, laying it down on a nearby table. “The Pullman Vale is closer, but their defenses are nowhere near a match for the von Roies. I propose this: we go with Lord Kieran on his return to the Vale, escorted by his knights as well as a force of our own. Then, we journey to the von Roie principality, with Lord Alistair’s cavaliers as our vanguard.

“I would have to dispatch a raven to von Roie and speak to Lord Kieran personally, but they would not deny us. His Majesty, Kieran and Alistair are childhood friends, last time Ansell was talking about the Succession War. Not to mention the fact that the von Roies fostered Ellana for the last four years. They won’t say no to a situation like this.”

The princess stops her games at the mention of her name. She nods, and says shyly, “I would like to see Uncle Alister and Aunty Kitiana again…”

“Then it’s settled,” Palme claps his hands and rolls up the scroll. “I’ll send word immediately, and have Emeron speak to Lord Kieran. We’ll have to pack light for this journey, only the absolute necessities.”

“Tell that to Adrianna who wants to carry an entire cart of clothing,” she says in a sing-song voice.

“…oh gods, I can already feel the headache coming along…” He moans dramatically before turning to you. “You don’t need much, so I’ll leave you to your care. But before we head out, is there anything you need taken care of?”

Your hand absently travels towards the broken weapon at your belt, the callouses of your thumb tracing across the rune for ‘beloved’ etched onto the pommel.

"Promise...that no…matter what...you'll always...be smiling..."

>I need this broken dagger…
>Replaced.
>Repaired.

>>47535419
>Repaired.
Of course.

>>47535419
Repaired.

>>47535419
>>Repaired.

>>47535419
>>Repaired.

>>47535419
>Repaired
Like any other option would even fit.

>>47535419
>Repaired.

“I need this broken dagger repaired,” You say, in the flattest tone you can muster. Gingerly extracting the sheathe from your belt, you hand it to Palme, who takes it with an understanding look and a solemn nod. You give him an appreciative smile. “Thank you.”

He wordlessly grunts before bowing stiffly to both Ellana and her mother. “I would very much like for our convoy to be ready to leave come dawn tomorrow. Plenty of time to pack up, convince Adrianna that she doesn’t need all of her clothes, and send those messages to their respective lords.”

Without a further word, your Lord Commander departs. The sound of the door closing shut echoes across the princess’ bedchambers, leaving only the window guards, the queen, Ellana, and you.

...

...there is a visibly pregnant silence that no one seems to be too eager to break anytime soon.

...

Your eyes flicker to the queen. Once more, she regards you with a look not unlike a magister studying a live specimen under a glass. On instinct, you can feel your nerves starting to go on edge, even though she lacks a visible weapon. But you have little doubt as to the fact that she has one hidden somewhere on her body.

>“I’m sorry, have I done something to offend you?”
> “...” [Stay silent, don’t say anything, just stand vigil.]

File: Sweatin.png (142 KB, 415x367)

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>>47535605
>“...” [Stay silent, don’t say anything, just stand vigil.]

>>47535605
>> “...” [Stay silent, don’t say anything, just stand vigil.]

>>47535605
>“I’m sorry, have I done something to offend you?”

>>47535605
>> “...” [Stay silent, don’t say anything, just stand vigil.]

>>47535605
> “...” [Stay silent, don’t say anything, just stand vigil.]
An adversary?

>>47535605
> “...” [Stay silent, don’t say anything, just stand vigil.]

>>47535631
We have nothing to apologize for. We picked what we thought is best. Our job is to protect the princess not grovel like a coward.

Okay guys, I've reached my stopping point for tonight. With that said, I do intent do continue after my first summer class tomorrow. Sorry about the last thread that got bumped to death without a conclusion. Shit happened that day.

So I'll see y'all in...I want to say twelve hours. Yeah, that sounds about right. Please keep the thread bumped until then.

>>47535776
No worries Kaz. Ugh. Summer class.

so I wasn't expecting the decoy thing to cause such a stir.

Is Kaz dead?

>>47535876
Most likely sleeping. It ain't easy running a quest and doing school. I barely make it doing four 10s and school.

>>47535848
I think once someone coined the term little girl suicide squad, it was game over. But then someone wanted to argue the point. I just thought it was out of character.

Generic bump

>>47535848
Me neither DESU


>>47535915
To be fair decoys don't require little girls, but yeah once the term was coined I can see why people shot it down. I was just wanting to do our job as best we could.

>>47537688
Yeah, you don't need one for the hypothetical low-effort one. Or even use it to send someone else on an unrelated task, disguised as a guard.

The one staying would have to be pretty damn good, though, and the rest of the family would need to play along. Something that needs to be cooked up months in advance.

>>47537866
Worth a shot IMO but Kaz shot it down. Ah well, next time mayhaps.

Gentle nudge

Harsh shove

Does the larder stock nuts and tea herbs?

>>47541064
probably. why?

Done with lunch.

Writing...

>>47542888
Bump

>>47542888
Oh your back. Sweet.

>>47542888
>"""""""Writing..."""""""

>>47542888
what you have for lunch Kaz?

>>47544809
Apparently poison.

If someone is going to break the silence, it is not going to be you. The tongue that you’ve used to verbally lash out at Red Snakes and other kinds of slum lowlifes remains still and devoid of words. And while you don’t mind indulging Ellana in one of her little conversations now and again, she neither has the interest nor the inclination to initiate words with you. She’s too busy trying to not fall asleep as her mother’s fingers gently go over her delicate hair.

Not that your lack of words has stopped the Queen from regarding you with undisguised interest. It is not a hostile look, but even without making eye contact with Her Majesty, you can feel the full weight of her gaze along your body.

You swallow slightly, taking a moment to survey the area, just to be sure that there’s no other threats in room, both visible and-

“So the safest plan for my family’s safety is to split them apart.”

Melianna’s words catch you off guard, but you don’t instinctively jerk your head in her direction. It is with well-practiced and methodical slowness that you regard the queen of the Empire. Soft hands, only calloused with the signs of writing and needlework, gently lay Ellana down to sleep on her shoulder.

“You take your duty to her quite seriously, do you not?”

“Yes, Your Highness,” You state, not quite in a subservient tone, but respectful enough to address a noble without causing offense. There’s no telling where this is going, so you decide to be as courteous as possible without ceding too much of an edge. “It would be remiss of me to devote nothing less than my absolute best when protecting the Princess…”

“As you should. But tell me, what do you believe is your duty as a Crownguard? With which standard do you carry yourself with in this duty?”

>Choose one:
>“They will die before they touch her.” [Aggressive]
>”I won’t let anyone hurt her.” [Protective]

>>47545146
>“They will die before they touch her.” [Aggressive]
Then with a little dark humor and smile.
"Unless you want them alive of course."

>>47545116
HE LIVES

>>47545146
>“They will die before they touch her.” [Aggressive]

>>47545146
>>I won’t let anyone hurt her.” [Protective]
because
>“They will die before they touch her.” [Aggressive]

>>47545146
>>”I won’t let anyone hurt her.” [Protective]

>>47545146
>>“They will die before they touch her.” [Aggressive]
i don't usually go for this type of choice but i think it fits

>>47545146
>>“They will die before they touch her.” [Aggressive]

>>47545146

>“They will die before they touch her.” [Aggressive]

>>47545146
>“They will die before they touch her.” [Aggressive]
Fits our assassin role more i guess.

The house was in shambles. What bare furniture you have had been knocked over, cabinets opened and looted, the stink and stain of spilled foodstuffs sprayed across the wall. You dared not to break the silence on the chance that you might still catch the vandals by surprise. With your weapon drawn, you step carefully over the shattered remnants of your home and move through the living room and into the kitchen. And it was there that you found Serena.

You do your best to hide the fracturing of your composure. Which is to say that your eyes glint dangerously, and your mouth twists into a tight grimace, and it takes all that you can to keep your breath neutral. This does not go unnoticed by the Queen, who regards your sudden attitude change with mild surprise.

She had died fighting, her hands and nails stained red with the blood of her attackers. But it hadn’t been enough. High on her chest, a deep wound had welled out into a puddle on the floor, its river of red run dry and crusted. Her white robes had been slit open from collar to hem, baring her naked flesh to the air. And the things that they’d done to her.


“They will die before they touch her,” You swear, and your voice has taken on a savage edge that you’d never use in polite conversation. The guards take note, shifting in response to the sudden passion in your voice, but don’t move to react. “That I swear to you, before all the gods, and on the blades that I carry.”

You don’t remember what happened next, but you suppose you went a little mad. You remember running through the small rooms of your house, screaming challenges, but there was no one there to answer them. Scanning the roads from the door revealed no one who looked out of place, no one suspicious or guilty.


The Queen recovers well enough, even permitting herself a grim smile. “You do not know how content I feel at your words, young Crownguard.”

(cont.)

>>47545146
>>“They will die before they touch her.” [Aggressive]

>>47545506
After an eternity, you returned to the kitchen and fell on your knees besides the body of your lover. With trembling hands, you pulled together the shreds of her robes, turned her cold cheek so that she wouldn’t have to look at the wound that had killed her, and cleaned the defilement as best you could. Hands on her shoulders, you laid your head against her stomach, burying your face in her clothes and skin as the heavy weight of reality comes crashing down upon you.

“…then I am glad that you find some solace in the words I speak.” Your voice gradually loses its edge, simmering down to a quiet and restrained temperament. “I will do everything in my power to destroy and hunt down those that would seek her death…”

With gentle fingers, you reach out to close her eyes. You kiss her forehead, her cheek, her bloody lips. And then you stand, back straight and face set in a determined mask, and you quietly leave the room. You only stopped to light the hearth one final time, taking care to let the flames slowly spread across the room before you departed. One final warmth and farewell to your beloved Serena.


>Choose one:
>“Because I know what it means to lose someone precious to you.”
>“I failed once, in a previous life. I’ll be damned before I fail again.”

>>47545766
>“I failed once, in a previous life. I’ll be damned before I fail again.”

>>47545766
>>“I failed once, in a previous life. I’ll be damned before I fail again.”

>>47545766
>>“Because I know what it means to lose someone precious to you.”

>>47545766
>>“Because I know what it means to lose someone precious to you.”

>>47545766
>>“Because I know what it means to lose someone precious to you.”

>>47545766
>“I failed once, in a previous life. I’ll be damned before I fail again.”

>>47545766
>“I failed once, in a previous life. I’ll be damned before I fail again.”

>>47545766

>>“Because I know what it means to lose someone precious to you.”

>>47545766
>“Because I know what it means to lose someone precious to you.”

>>47545766
>“I failed once, in a previous life. I’ll be damned before I fail again.”

>>47545766
>>“Because I know what it means to lose someone precious to you.”

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34 KB JPG

>>47545766
>>47545506
oh Marcus will your heart ever be healed again

File: Medieval Trunk.jpg (70 KB, 792x612)

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“Because I know what it’s like to lose someone precious to you,” You quietly finish, exhaling deeply as your breath finally returns to some semblance of normality. Vague enough to give no concrete or tangible hint of your past, but a universal truth that everyone could find sympathy with. The best lies and deceptions are the ones laden with the truth.

Queen Melianna takes a moment to digest your words, regarding you with no small amount of curiosity and interest. You hope that it won’t turn to an investigation of your past. Because other than Palme, you have no desire to have anyone else know the grimmer details of your old life. But there was little to worry. You already had a working alias, one that would take a long time to puzzle through.

Then, the queen takes a moment to stand up, taking a moment to gently place her daughter on the bed before approaching you in a languid motion. Her attitude still maintains that self-satisfied demeanor, but there’s also something else in her eyes. “I am glad to hear your earnest, as well as your passion to accompany the responsibility of your duty. It is a welcome sight to find so loyal a retainer in these troublesome days.

“The Crown calls upon you to perform beyond your capacity, to give everything you have and more. One day, the time may come for a need of additional services, but only in the most desperate of times and circumstances. And I pray that you won’t hesitate to aid us in those critical moments.”

>>Evening

With those words, the queen bids you and her daughter a good day, and departs from Ellana’s chambers with her escort trailing around her. Emeron’s Silver Knights eventually leave as well, only to be replaced by a plethora of maidservants and porters. They seem to quail at your presence before they attend to their princess, quickly adjusting to your presence as they go about their orders.

(cont.)

>>47546301
No.
But he will leave a very large trail of bodies when he eventually finds the main plotter.

Hes going to be that older guard fellow the princess ends up crushing on because he saved her life so many damn times.

>>47546344
Translation: "Your useful past a bodyguard, so im going to use you at some point to kill someone"

>>47546377
Whats the bet she knew about our dad?

File: Emeron.jpg (149 KB, 850x684)

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>>47546344
They quickly fill two trunks with two week’s worth of clothing. That is more than enough dresses, blouses and other miscellaneous attire that you could very well see Ellana wearing both in a formal court and in a relaxed afternoon. And for the most part, she doesn’t complain, only stopping occasionally to personally pick which dress she should present to her aunts and uncles.

This, you all watch with a solemn eye, standing guard adjacent to the princess. You can’t be too careful. Especially with royalty.

Eventually, the servants finish their packing, bowing before quickly making their exit with the trunks in tow. You will see them again tomorrow, firmly secured on the caravan bound to the Pullman Vale.

It is only a few moments after their departure that you hear someone knocking at the door. “Ell? It’s me. Do you mind letting me in?” His voice is muffled due to the thick wood, but the voice of Emeron Crowmond still remains distinct and impossible to replicate.

He enters the room, pausing only to give you a quick nod before he turns to his sister. “How are you doing?” Emeron goes down to his knees so as to look Ellana eye-to-eye, pulling her in for a gentle embrace. “I’m sorry I haven’t been to see you after all that’s. The clean up was a mess, and I had various other concerns to resolve.”

She returns the hug, making an effort to wrap her arms around her brother’s neck. A kind smile is on her face when they release each other. “That’s alright. I don’t mind waiting. The empire takes precedence since you're the eldest one.”

He laughs, ruffling her hair affectionately. “Were it that the entire realm had your forgiveness, then maybe we wouldn’t be in this sorry state of affairs, eh?”

(cont.)

Once he finishes his small talk with Ellana, he turns towards you. “Painel. I never had the time to properly express my gratitude for saving her life the other night. So, if you don’t mind, I’ll take that moment now: thank you, truly, for protecting my sister.”

You don’t really see any other response than to bow. “There is nothing to thank me for, Your Highness-”

“Please don’t say that.” The corner of his mouth tugs upwards in a lopsided smile. “I can’t have both you and Palme refusing platitudes and praise whenever I offer them. One is bad enough, two just might turn my hair grey. I don’t want to amass the reputation of being an ungrateful prince.

“Ah, and I took this off of Palme’s hands,” he reaches for his belt, pulling something out of his pocket. Serena’s dagger. “There was something I had to do to reward you, and while I cannot offer money, I can offer you this. I took the liberty of summoning one of the master thaumaturges from the Ivory Tower to aid in the repair of your blade.”

Your hand pauses in mid-air as you reach towards the dagger. Frowning, you say, “I’m afraid that I don’t understand…”

“I…had your blade enchanted. That is, if you do not mind,” he quickly amends. “Everything is the same, barring the new half of the blade and the magic worked into the weapon. The blade will never break, no matter how much stress and wear it goes through. And there is another enchantment, one that will activate based on what you find to be more useful…”

At your stunned silence look he adds uncertainly, “If you wish, I can have the enchantment dispelled…”

You ignore his words and reach out for the blade, fist closing around the hilt. It’s faint, but you spent enough time around those with the Spark to feel the traces of magic on some instinctive level. And as your fingers touch the leather handle, you can feel the energies within respond to your touch…

(cont.)

>Choose one:
>Magical Edge: This weapon will do an additional flat +4 damage to enemies.
>Returning: It will return to your hands or sheathe no matter how far it is flung.

>>47547218
>Returning: It will return to your hands or sheathe no matter how far it is flung.
I think we could get far more utility out of this. Get creative and all that.

>>47547251
>>Returning: It will return to your hands or sheathe no matter how far it is flung.
So useful.

>>47547251
>>Returning: It will return to your hands or sheathe no matter how far it is flung.

>>47547251
>>Returning: It will return to your hands or sheathe no matter how far it is flung.

>>47547251
>Returning: It will return to your hands or sheathe no matter how far it is flung

>>47547251
>Returning: It will return to your hands or sheathe no matter how far it is flung.

Our dagger with 'beloved' etched on it will always return to us even though our beloved never will.

>>47547251
>>Returning: It will return to your hands or sheathe no matter how far it is flung.
yes yes yes

>>47547251
>Returning: It will return to your hands or sheathe no matter how far it is flung.

>>47547289
You bastard right in the feels.

File: 127.gif (315 KB, 500x275)

315 KB GIF

>>47547289

>>47547289
Right in the edge

>>47547289
>>47547304
No wonder most of /tg/ hates questfags, you guys are making me cringe down into my bone marrow.

>>47547441
I wouldn't say it's cringey, just that it doesn't hit me in any sort of feels.

>>47547441
I've had much much worse cringes in questing.

Such Defiance.

>>47547441
>>47547477
Calm down guys, it was a joke.
>>47547412
This was the proper response.

>>47547536
Seemed like it.

>>47547492
only in our nightmares will that come to pass.

A soft light emits from the dagger, pulsing briefly as the magic of the dagger imprints onto you, for lack of a better word. Ellana’s face lights up in unabashed amazement at the sight, and Emeron’s brow rises in veiled curiosity. But eventually, it fades away, leaving no overt sign of any magical energies save for the brief and occasional emission you can feel in your hand.

You hold it in your hand, weighing it with the expert touch of one accustomed to short blades. And as you toss it from one hand to the other, you can feel it return to you faster, with bit more force than it normally would. A returning blade.

The irony of the situation is not lost upon you. Serena’s dagger would always return, no matter how far or how hard you threw it. But she would not, no matter how much you yearned for her, or how hard you prayed to seemingly deaf gods.

But in spite of that, you manage to smile. The sheer utility of a weapon you could not lose is now available for you to exploit. “I…I don’t know what to say,” You admit, scratching the back of your head with a free hand.

“A simple ‘thank you’ will be enough,” Emeron smiles. “I’m not one to stand on ceremony whenever I’m not in the public’s eye. And this is trivial to the service you have provided, and doubtless will continue to provide to my sister.”

You take a moment to compose yourself, sheathing the dagger. Unwrapping the leather thong around the case, you affix it to your belt with a well-practiced and effortless motion. Once the familiar weight is back onto your hips, you bow deeply to the Crown Prince of Aderaveth. “Thank you.”

He accepts your thanks with a polite nod, before turning to Ellana. “Now off to bed with you! You and your siblings must depart on the High Road no later than one hour after dawn. So I suggest you get your rest now. And in the event I won’t be able to see your departure, then I wish you godspeed on your journey.”

========

And that's that.

>>47547740
Thanks Kaz.

>>47547740
thanks Kaz, once again Marcus continues to be one of my favorite new Quest MCs

>>47547770
You're welcome, anon.

>>47547810
Glad to hear it!

==============

Twilight always came early in the long winter months, and tonight was no exception. But Kitiana took some comfort in the fact that the evening sky took longer to spread its shadow across the land of her husband, the land of her fathers. From the view of her bedchambers, the window offered a breath-taking view of the von Roie lands.

She exhaled deeply as she took a long draught from the water one of the serving girls had fetched for her, soothing both her dry throat and pallate. What was her name again? Lilly, if she recalled correctly. She was a quick learner. Perhaps she would make the girl Katrina’s personal servant. That was certainly a better job than languishing in the kitchen or polishing suits of armor and other trinkets in the grand hall.

The door to the master bedroom opened, and Lord Alistair von Roie eased himself into the chair adjacent to hers, sighing in content as the varnished wood took the brunt of his weight. As soon as he had settled comfortably in his seat, he turned to regard her with a tired smile. “And how was your day?”

Kitiana clicked her teeth in annoyance. “I lost count of how many times the temptation to leap out the window struck my fancy. The common folk say that there is no crueler fate than to be banished from the realm, but they know nothing of what a true hell is like.”

“And such a hell is…?”

“Enduring the most inane and trivial of gossip from the Lady Melbourne and her simpering twits of daughters. For the entirety of the afternoon, I might add. I could not care any less about the fact that they found Erik rutting with one of their serving girls, or how silk from the Long Kingdoms is the latest in fashion. No amount of dissuasion to other topics could break their insufferable chatter.”

“Now that is enough to make a man fall upon his sword. Truly, you are the braver one among us.”

(cont.)

“You are a von Roie,” She dryly retorted, tugging at the collar of her nightgown. “Courage supposedly is to flow in your veins. If that is the case, then why don’t you and I switch places? I shall have dominion over Montgomer, and occasionally make the journey to the Crowmond Court to dispense judgment as Aderaveth’s Justicar. You can entertain guests with fancy meals by the riverside and have…what would you say is a man’s equivalent to needlework?”

He had to think about that for a moment, adopting a position not unlike a magister’s. “Sharpening one’s sword,” he eventually stated, “Or archery. Hunting, perhaps, but our needles are supposed to be able to kill wild boars.”

“If that’s the bare minimum, then a simple jab of a sewing needle is more than enough to kill Lady Melbourne.”

Alistair sat up in his chair, trying and failing to hide a smile. “Perhaps you can blame Lord Melbourne and the empty coffers that forced him to wed a fat merchant’s fat daughter.”

“No, it would have not the same effect,” Kitiana sniffed. “The issue would not matter if my grievances lied with him. No, this is an issue between women.”

“The last time I saw her, she was very cordial and polite for a woman of common birth. Surely you exaggerate?”

She affixed him with a glare that had sent lesser men squirming in their places. “Have I ever been known to lie to you, my husband? Especially in sensitive matters such as this?”

Raising his hands in recalcitrance, he surrendered peacefully without a struggle. “No, no you have not. I shall see to it that we will not see the Melbournes for as long as we can. And while we’re on the topic of the nobility, I would like to take this moment to broach another subject.”

(cont.)

“Oh?” Kitiana tilted her head with undisguised interest. It was no secret that she sat beside Alistair for petitions and other meetings in the grand hall, and often gave him second opinions of how to better reign over Montgomer. But these conversations were held in meeting rooms, not in the sanctity of their bedchamber. “And what is this?”

He reached into his pocked, pulling out a thin vellum. “A letter, sent by my godson, delivered only half an hour ago by a night raven.”

Emeron. The last message they had received from him was a pleasant greeting and expression of thanks for fostering little Ellana for the past four years. That was only two months ago, just only after the start of winter when she had returned to the capital. Why would the Crown Prince be contacting them so soon?

“Read it,” he offered to her. “This concerns you just as much as it does me.”

Kitiana accepted it with a raised eyebrow, unfurling the little scroll and scanning it as fast as she could. As her eyes darted across the words, traveling down from line to line, a myriad of emotions pierced her: shock, anger, relief, concern, all at once.

When she finished, she flashed Alistair a worried look as she returned the message to him. “An assassin’s plot?”

“Aye. Wherever there’s one of the bastards, there’s five of them hiding in some run-down village hut or spread out across the city. And that’s ignoring Palme’s implications: one of the lords is possibly responsible for engineering this conspiracy.”

She frowned, eyes flickering towards the tapestry of the von Roie family tree. The two names stitched underneath hers and her husbands’ intertwining branches tugged at her heart: Katrina and Kastal.

“Surely you realize the kind of danger this could place us in?" She asked. "I do not mean to disparage them, but this a dangerous endeavor. We can protect one without any worry, maybe two if we maintain vigilance. But three of the royal family?”

(cont.)

>>47549206
Dude Vellum and parchment in historical context are leather not paper they don't really burn that well

>>47549280
maybe only the text needs to be burnt.

>>47549280
Shit, really? Fuck. Gimme a sec to fix that...

>>47549280
This story isn't exactly a historic story.

>>47548707
Alistair grunted as he crumpled up the vellum, tossing it into the hearthfire without a second glance. It would take time, but come morning, the message would be either ashes or completely illegible. Either would suit his needs. “I won’t deny them, especially since Lionel is still sick with whatever illness plagues him. The poor boy has enough to worry about even without the possibility of some craven blackguard trying to kill his siblings.”

Kitiana nodded, pursing her lips as she had more time to process the given message. “They will have their Crownguard with them.”

“Yes and no. Palme is going to stand by Emeron, but everyone else will accompany their respective charges. Kieran is to garrison a hundred of his most trustworthy Eagle Knights with ours as a security measure.”

She relaxed at that. Lord Kieran Pullman and Alistair were childhood friends with King Lionel, brothers in all but blood. There was no better man for Emeron and Ser Palme to involve with this endeavor.

“Remind me to write to him,” she said, rising out of her chair to adjust her nightgown. “It’s been ages since I last saw Braeden, nearly a year since our last visit. We must invite them for the spring festival.”

“I might just do that,” he agreed. “Considering the number of men he’s loaned to us, I’ll have to dig deep into my coffers to repay him. He was always one to appreciate fine leather boots. Perhaps he doesn’t have one made from wyvernhide yet…”

She laughed at that, before immediately sobering as the gravity of the situation finally hit her. “…someone tried to kill my niece.”

“We’ll do everything on our power to protect her and her siblings,” Alistair promised her. “So you can rest easy and write to your sister. I have little doubt that your letter may help her gain some peace of mind.”

(cont)

“I think I’ll do that…” She muttered in reply, watching the last bit of Emeron’s letter finally disintegrate into ashes. “Melianna was always so fond of her children. I sincerely hope that she will take their absence well.”

“She will have to,” he said, not uncaringly and with a dulcet tone, “But she can trust in us to protect her family. I’m especially fond of them as well. And I have no doubt that Lionel would do the same if he was in our position.”

Kitiana took one last look out of the bedroom window, at the waning moon hidden behind an overcast sky. The calm mood she had enjoyed for the last few years would soon be gone in a few days with their coming arrival. It would bring her no small amount of joy to see her nieces and nephew after such a long time, but the motivations of their journey weighed heavily on her mind.

Still, she would enjoy the last few peaceful days and nights while preparing for their arrival. It was the only sensible thing to do as the Lady of Montgomer. Stock would be taken, battlements repaired, and everyone on full alert. They would be ready for the arrival of the royal siblings.

But until that time came, there was still enough time for her to indulge in her little wants and needs.

Kitiana wrapped her arms around her husband, letting the full length of her hair come to fall along his shoulders. She felt his body stiffen in response to her touch, sitting up straighter as the scent of her hair enveloped him. “Surely you’re not too tired, my liege?”

He turned to regard her with a wry smile. “Running a fraction of Lionel’s empire and preventing its collapse taxes the mind and the soul. But I fear that aside from getting up from that chair to break for midday meal and use the chamber pot, I’ve had little in the way of physical activity for the entire day. My limbs ache for some sort of exertion. Perhaps I should walk down to the barracks and spar with Meric.”

(cont.)

The smile on her face turned wicked. “Oh, but I have something better planned. I have a desperate need to rid myself of the screeching voices of the Melbourne women. And to rid myself of the recent anxieties brought on by Emeron’s message. You have a desire to practice your…swordplay. I believe we can come to something that benefits the two of us.”

He was quick to pick up on her sultry tone, and turned his face up towards hers with a leery grin. “And what did you have in mind?”

“Come closer and I’ll whisper it into your ear…”

She hadn’t even finished when Alistair suddenly leapt from his seat and captured her lips with a wild kiss. Grinning against his mouth, she sighed contently, as he guided her to the bed, hands moving along her gown to find the thread that would lay her bare before him.

Laughing at his clumsiness, Kitiana reached around and pulled at the cord herself, opening the nightgown to her husband’s machinations. She wrapped a hand around his neck and lay back, pulling him down with her. Then all thought left her mind, as he was following her down, and down, and down.

==============

Gonna archive it in a few minutes.

Follow me on Twitter for session times and other Bladebound related stuff. https://twitter.com/TaskForceKaz

Don't forget to check out the previous sessions on suptg: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive.html?tags=Bladebound%20Retainer%20Quest

Hope y'all have a good night/morning/day/afternoon wherever you based anons are.

I hope you don't mind the 'stingers' at the end of threads. I'll try to get those typed up before the session starts, but its hard to do that given the erratic nature of the narrative.

>>47549549

Love the stingers actually, nice touch and a good way to open up the world to us

>>47549549
Thanks for running! Next run when and which quest? Also love the stingers.

>>47549649
Glad to hear it. I'll spend some time trying to puzzle out other possible stingers I could use.

>>47549671
You're welcome. And the next quest is gonna be TF666, most likely this Saturday the 4th. Afternoon, most likely. I'll tweet the exact specifics when I get a better understanding of this week's school workload.

>>47549744
Everyone's impression of us so far?

>>47549775
this, i would very much like to know how the queen feels about us

>>47549775
>>47549839
>Person
>Thoughts about Marcus

>Ellana, A Princess on the Cusp of Spring
>Thinks you're a hero, definitely looks up to you like an elder sibling.

>Ser Palme, A Knight without a Past
>His wariness has worn off, you are a trusted comrade and valued member of the Crownguard.

>Adrianna, A Princess of Numbers and Masks
>The one who saved her sister's life, not the street vagrant she was expecting.

>Magister Ansell, A Wise Man who Cannot Die
>A blank state, an empty vessel to fill with knowledge, a well-received and welcome student.

>Bellatrix Lupine, A Warrior denied her Homeland
>A worthy opponent, a friend who doesn't fall for her ribbing, and a respected comrade of the Crownguard.

>Raleigh Silverow, A Noble who Pursues Perfection
>The one he must surpass, a worthy rival and respected comrade of the Crownguard.

>The Ingulan, A Shadow in the Long Night
>An enigma to be sure, one that must be studied further, and respected comrade of the Crownguard.

>Ane Linde, A Servant shackled in her Roots
>A person of deep interest, a moment of respite from the kitchens and a kindly man.

>Emeron, A Prince who Seeks No Throne
>A valued retainer, someone to place Ellana's life with.

>Allanus, A Youth of Fiery Temperament
>A hero higher above the knights, a true friend of the Crowmond family

>Melianna, A Queen of an Empty Realm
>Someone of deep interest, an incredibly valuable retainer for her daughter and the Crown.

>an incredibly valuable retainer for her daughter and the Crown
she knows!

>>47550204
Palme might have told her.

>>47550204
>>47550215
i just just wanted to be the one to post it, honestly i don't think it matters if she knows our dad was a master assassin.

>>47550062
When's Bellatrix going to cash in that duel?

>>47550062
>A Wise Man who Cannot Die
panic