GLOBAL STORY UPDATE: The Great Congress of Lenfald Part 1
Mar 23, 2015 14:21:08 GMT -8
AK_Brickster, Erathor Pridenar, and 5 more like this
Post by Sir Caelan Munro on Mar 23, 2015 14:21:08 GMT -8
The Great Congress of Lenfald, Part 1:
Something wasn’t right, besides what Lord Sorely Meyrick, the Duke of Ainesford, was blabbing on about; no that cook…he was taking far too long to clean up the ale he himself had spilled. And Captain Tavish was certain he was pausing to listen to what was being said on the Speaker's Floor, strictly against the rules for “the help”. The grizzled archer nudged Baron Munro sitting next to him, but Sir Caelan barely noticed as he listened to Meyrick's speech and replied, “Can you believe what Sorely Lost here is advocating? Full compliance with Chartres! No wonder he lost the Battle of Ainesford so badly…”
Tavish shook his head in mild frustration and got up to check on that cook, but he had barely made it halfway there when the cook suddenly collected his rags and left. Now that was entirely too coincidental…
The Captain headed down the hallway to find him but was immediately accosted by the two ever-present and intellectually-challenged guards waiting there. Security at the Great Congress of Lenfald was incredibly tight; no one except the castle guards themselves were allowed any weapons whatsoever, and all the delegates and staff were sequestered inside the castle for the duration of this critical assembly. Upon seeing the archer they held out their halberds to stop him, but Tavish was way ahead of them. “Ah, there you are my good lads, I am here to report an illegal weapon, one of the delegates has a knife, I clearly saw it. Here, let me point him out.”
Excited that they finally had something real to do, the two looked like dogs waiting to go fetch a thrown stick. The Captain deliberately motioned at the middle of the delegates on the far side of the largest hall in all of Lenfald, and pointed indiscriminately, “there, that one wearing dark green.” The two were halfway across when they realized nearly every delegate there was wearing the official color of Lenfald.
The archer entered the Great Kitchen impatiently as he searched for the man, to no avail; he wasn’t there. It was incredibly busy in the hot room, but there was one cook removing the entrails from a goose who he grabbed by the arm after the man objected to his presence. “Did a cook just rush through here?”
“Oh no, I haven’t seen a cook all day!" he spit out sarcastically. "Look about you mate, you’re in a kit…” he didn’t get any farther as he was suddenly and violently shaken.
“Tall, thin, muscular, with a goatee and a deep tan like he has been in the…” a sinking feeling hit Captain Tavish as he finished his own sentence, “…desert.”
“Oh, the new bloke,” the cook muttered resentfully. “Yeah, he’s in the side kitchen over there.”
“New bloke? But the staff has been sequestered!”
“Aye but we ran short a’ help and contracted from outside…”
Now Tavish’s stomach was turning, and not from the sight of the goose’s entrails. He shot down the side hall and found the door to the secondary kitchen locked from the inside. He was not a slight man however and he burst through it after four body slams, only to face an arrow shot at him. Quickly turning to present a smaller target the shot barely missed, and he then plunged into the small kitchen. It had two ovens, one to his left and another to his right with a window facing the outer ward of the castle. A massive pot of some concoction was bubbling away in that fireplace, and two cooks were to his left, down and bleeding in front of the other oven. To his right across a table full of foodstuffs and dishes stood the dubious cook, now smoothly knocking another arrow. As Tavish reached for a large pot to try and deflect the shot, the cook instead leveled the shot at the window and fired the arrow out of it.
Instantly Tavish knew he had just lost, for two things came to his eye; the arrow had a note tied to it — the spy had just successfully gotten the word out as to whatever he had heard. And the other thing was personally alarming; the cook had an Areani tattoo on the inside of his arm—this was going to be one bloody fight, perhaps the Captain's last.
So he didn’t wait, and threw the pot at him as hard as he could, catching the spy in the ribs. That should have doubled him over, but the darker man barely noticed it. He produced a curved Loreesi dagger from inside his shirt and a second knife and attacked with both, while Tavish grabbed a kitchen knife and jar of seeds, and the two went at each other with full force. The jar wound up shattered as it absorbed a crushing blow from the dagger, and Tavish gave him a brutal slash across the shoulder, which again the Areani barely seemed to notice. In the flurry, the archer had sustained four bloody cuts from the spy and knew he wouldn’t last long against this seemingly inhuman opponent.
The Soup Was Not To His Liking, by Sir Caelan
Then the Areani reacted to something over Tavish’s shoulder and a jar came flying out of nowhere and hit the spy in the head, shooting flour everywhere, clouding up the air. Sir Caelan then dashed by the Captain and attacked the cook with a meat cleaver, a sight that would have been hilarious if it weren't for the circumstances of their opponent being a deadly Loreesi agent.
Even dazed the Areani fought like a lion until Tavish grabbed a small iron pot and slammed it into the side of his head. Still the spy stood, but wavered. The temporary lull in the action allowed the sound of the bubbling pot to come through, and both Sir Caelan and Tavish simultaneously had the same idea, grabbing the spy by the arms and shoving him toward the fire. They forcefully pushed the Areani's head down into what turned out to be a lovely pea soup, now at full boil. The spy struggled mightily as he burned, but both his opponents held on until he went limp.
“We need to question him, I think,” Caelan barely managed and finally Tavish relented, letting the man fall to the floor with horrendous second-degree burns now all over his head and face, also covered in a slimy green.
The two friends stood huffing from their exertion until Baron Munro finally blurted, “You left just when the Duke was getting interesting…”
"I doubt that very much." Tavish stumbled to the window and cursed. “The blighter must have shot right over the outer wall. Jig’s up now; whatever was on that note is surely gone.”
Just then the same two guards who had stopped the Captain earlier now slammed into the kitchen. They took in the Areani, the mess, and the two hurt cooks to their right and looked furiously at them. Sir Caelan only waved at the spy on the floor and by way of explanation stated indignantly, “He ruined the soup.”
Two days later, a man dressed in fine red clothing stood on a tower of the King’s Castle, and held out his arm expectantly. A bird came down swiftly and alighted on his arm, and he gently caressed the falcon. He then unfastened the message tied to its leg and began reading carefully. His brow furrowed slightly after reading a few lines; then a calmness came over him. He looked towards the vast horizon and paused to consider everything that had taken place in the last few weeks. Prince Jarius then tucked the message into his pocket and, carrying the bird with him, walked purposely towards the stairs of the tower.
------------------------
COMING NEXT WEEKEND: Part 2 and GC X!
Something wasn’t right, besides what Lord Sorely Meyrick, the Duke of Ainesford, was blabbing on about; no that cook…he was taking far too long to clean up the ale he himself had spilled. And Captain Tavish was certain he was pausing to listen to what was being said on the Speaker's Floor, strictly against the rules for “the help”. The grizzled archer nudged Baron Munro sitting next to him, but Sir Caelan barely noticed as he listened to Meyrick's speech and replied, “Can you believe what Sorely Lost here is advocating? Full compliance with Chartres! No wonder he lost the Battle of Ainesford so badly…”
Tavish shook his head in mild frustration and got up to check on that cook, but he had barely made it halfway there when the cook suddenly collected his rags and left. Now that was entirely too coincidental…
The Captain headed down the hallway to find him but was immediately accosted by the two ever-present and intellectually-challenged guards waiting there. Security at the Great Congress of Lenfald was incredibly tight; no one except the castle guards themselves were allowed any weapons whatsoever, and all the delegates and staff were sequestered inside the castle for the duration of this critical assembly. Upon seeing the archer they held out their halberds to stop him, but Tavish was way ahead of them. “Ah, there you are my good lads, I am here to report an illegal weapon, one of the delegates has a knife, I clearly saw it. Here, let me point him out.”
Excited that they finally had something real to do, the two looked like dogs waiting to go fetch a thrown stick. The Captain deliberately motioned at the middle of the delegates on the far side of the largest hall in all of Lenfald, and pointed indiscriminately, “there, that one wearing dark green.” The two were halfway across when they realized nearly every delegate there was wearing the official color of Lenfald.
The archer entered the Great Kitchen impatiently as he searched for the man, to no avail; he wasn’t there. It was incredibly busy in the hot room, but there was one cook removing the entrails from a goose who he grabbed by the arm after the man objected to his presence. “Did a cook just rush through here?”
“Oh no, I haven’t seen a cook all day!" he spit out sarcastically. "Look about you mate, you’re in a kit…” he didn’t get any farther as he was suddenly and violently shaken.
“Tall, thin, muscular, with a goatee and a deep tan like he has been in the…” a sinking feeling hit Captain Tavish as he finished his own sentence, “…desert.”
“Oh, the new bloke,” the cook muttered resentfully. “Yeah, he’s in the side kitchen over there.”
“New bloke? But the staff has been sequestered!”
“Aye but we ran short a’ help and contracted from outside…”
Now Tavish’s stomach was turning, and not from the sight of the goose’s entrails. He shot down the side hall and found the door to the secondary kitchen locked from the inside. He was not a slight man however and he burst through it after four body slams, only to face an arrow shot at him. Quickly turning to present a smaller target the shot barely missed, and he then plunged into the small kitchen. It had two ovens, one to his left and another to his right with a window facing the outer ward of the castle. A massive pot of some concoction was bubbling away in that fireplace, and two cooks were to his left, down and bleeding in front of the other oven. To his right across a table full of foodstuffs and dishes stood the dubious cook, now smoothly knocking another arrow. As Tavish reached for a large pot to try and deflect the shot, the cook instead leveled the shot at the window and fired the arrow out of it.
Instantly Tavish knew he had just lost, for two things came to his eye; the arrow had a note tied to it — the spy had just successfully gotten the word out as to whatever he had heard. And the other thing was personally alarming; the cook had an Areani tattoo on the inside of his arm—this was going to be one bloody fight, perhaps the Captain's last.
So he didn’t wait, and threw the pot at him as hard as he could, catching the spy in the ribs. That should have doubled him over, but the darker man barely noticed it. He produced a curved Loreesi dagger from inside his shirt and a second knife and attacked with both, while Tavish grabbed a kitchen knife and jar of seeds, and the two went at each other with full force. The jar wound up shattered as it absorbed a crushing blow from the dagger, and Tavish gave him a brutal slash across the shoulder, which again the Areani barely seemed to notice. In the flurry, the archer had sustained four bloody cuts from the spy and knew he wouldn’t last long against this seemingly inhuman opponent.
The Soup Was Not To His Liking, by Sir Caelan
Then the Areani reacted to something over Tavish’s shoulder and a jar came flying out of nowhere and hit the spy in the head, shooting flour everywhere, clouding up the air. Sir Caelan then dashed by the Captain and attacked the cook with a meat cleaver, a sight that would have been hilarious if it weren't for the circumstances of their opponent being a deadly Loreesi agent.
Even dazed the Areani fought like a lion until Tavish grabbed a small iron pot and slammed it into the side of his head. Still the spy stood, but wavered. The temporary lull in the action allowed the sound of the bubbling pot to come through, and both Sir Caelan and Tavish simultaneously had the same idea, grabbing the spy by the arms and shoving him toward the fire. They forcefully pushed the Areani's head down into what turned out to be a lovely pea soup, now at full boil. The spy struggled mightily as he burned, but both his opponents held on until he went limp.
“We need to question him, I think,” Caelan barely managed and finally Tavish relented, letting the man fall to the floor with horrendous second-degree burns now all over his head and face, also covered in a slimy green.
The two friends stood huffing from their exertion until Baron Munro finally blurted, “You left just when the Duke was getting interesting…”
"I doubt that very much." Tavish stumbled to the window and cursed. “The blighter must have shot right over the outer wall. Jig’s up now; whatever was on that note is surely gone.”
Just then the same two guards who had stopped the Captain earlier now slammed into the kitchen. They took in the Areani, the mess, and the two hurt cooks to their right and looked furiously at them. Sir Caelan only waved at the spy on the floor and by way of explanation stated indignantly, “He ruined the soup.”
Two days later, a man dressed in fine red clothing stood on a tower of the King’s Castle, and held out his arm expectantly. A bird came down swiftly and alighted on his arm, and he gently caressed the falcon. He then unfastened the message tied to its leg and began reading carefully. His brow furrowed slightly after reading a few lines; then a calmness came over him. He looked towards the vast horizon and paused to consider everything that had taken place in the last few weeks. Prince Jarius then tucked the message into his pocket and, carrying the bird with him, walked purposely towards the stairs of the tower.
------------------------
COMING NEXT WEEKEND: Part 2 and GC X!
!!!!! I love these stories for themselves, and the update is epic too, can't wait at all 
!! 
-Wanderer of Roawia-