The Old Lord: Rude Dinner Guests

The Old Lord\'s Keep: Throne Room

The golden doors part to reveal a long corridor, replete with the trappings of quiet opulence. A great, round wooden table is the centerpiece of the room, covered in a pristinely white, silken cloth edged with sparkling gold trimmings. The chairs are high-backed and wooden, and each has a white drop-cloth as well as a golden pillow upon the seat. Crystal wineglasses and archaic china complement each setting with fitting class. Lastly, at the center of the table, there is a single harp of extremely fine make.

Upon the walls are luxurious tapestries, with depictions of times now aged and lost but with a freshness all the same. They, along with the rest of the room, are lit by a series of enclosed lanterns which bathe the room in yellows.

At the end of the hall is a throne, flush with gold and sparkling jewels whereby the Lord of the Manor dines with his honored guests. And on display for all in the corner of the room is a magnificent sculpture. Crafted of carved marble, it depicts a man sitting upon a chair, carving a fresh piece of stone for his own sculpture. His features, in body and face, match well with the kin of Imrazor.

Obvious exits:

Main Hall

The hour appointed has arrived. The great gilded doors to the throne room are open and from them waft a cacophony of the odors of food, rich and delicious, and the light sound of harp, a quiet and serene tune.

The room itself is simple in decoration and matches a style that many noble families take- the walls adorned with history woven into cloth, a rounded table with thirteen high-backed chairs, and a grand harp at its center. Food is already laid out at the dinner plates, steaming in the late evening air. Drink too is poured already, in large, crystal goblets.

Lord Lyre sits at the far side of the room, in the thirteenth chair. He sips casually from his drink, a queer smile hanging upon his lips. He waits.

Entering the Grand hall is Captain Aearon, the Hostman is in what would seem to be his finest uniform. His boots, armor, and weapons are highly polished and shine in the lamplight, his face is cleanly shaved (a rare thing for the Captain), and strapped to his back is a great weapon a grand Great Sword. As he enters he looks over his shoulder at those that accompany him, giving them all a nod he enters the grand hall fully, standing up tall and proud he is a picture of the professional soldier.

The invited \"guests\" filter in slowly, Menelglir entering with Aearon. The Squire is also dressed in his finest, face, hair, uniform all impeccably clean, boots and armor polished, as well as his sword in its scabbard.

Turlach enters close behind. Like the other soldiers, he is clad in dress uniform, sword loosened in scabbard. His eyes, grey and cold, search behind him for his aunt.

[Lord Lyre(#21555)] The Old Lord stands, arms opened wide, \"Welcome friends. Come and sit at my table!\"

He motions to the seats to the left and to the right of him, \"Your food waits for you and with it drink, all in plenty.\" He then measures each the turn of their arriving, \"Aearon, you,\" a sniff of the air, \"Are healthy today. I am glad. Though,\" his eyes narrow, \"There is little need of weapons here, my friend, and it will only make it difficult to sit and eat. Perhaps, such things are better left in your room?\"

And to Menelglir, another sniff of the air proceeds his words, \"And Menelglir, yes? I am most glad to have you here. Your spirit is the... the most sweet. And our time spent here together this night will be quit enjoyable. I am sure of it!\"

For Turlach, he seems more critical, \"Your kin has not yet arrived. Is it not like all women to be late to the time when they would be most revered? I hope she follows you quickly behind? And if not, that you have brought tales enough to make up her absence?\"

[Aearon(#16333)]

With a polite smile upon his face the Captain says \"We meant no offence my Lord, rather we wished to come in our best attire, in full uniform.\" Bowing to the Old Lord he says in a friendly voice \"I am sure you understand ones wish to arrive in ones finest.\" Moving over to the chair closest to the Old lord he waits until the rest have moved to their own chairs.

[Menelglir(#17324)]

\"Most sweet is it,\" Menelglir says dryly. His lips press together in a thin line as he holds further comment, glancing to Aearon and going to stand besides a chair.

\"I am sorry, Lord Lyre,\" says Turlach, biting off every word. \"I am sure she shall be present. But all the same, I have tales that would suffice.\" Quietly, trying not to glare at the Old Lord, he stands by the chair opposite Aearon.

[Lord Lyre(#21555)] Lord Lyre wastes little time in formality, retaking his seat, napkin replaced in his lap, \"Well then, who shall begin.\" He looks between his guests, \"Or shall we drink and eat first to wet the pallet and whet the wit?\" His knife reaches out and draws across the roast, a delicious red juice flows from the cut.

[Aearon(#16333)]

With a polite nod of his head the Captain removes the Greatsword from his back and gently lays it upon the ground at his feet with his spear, opposite of the Old Lord. Glancing to those that have arrived he takes his seat, placing his napkin in his lap while he sits up tall and proud. Looking to the Old Lord he says \"I can only speak for myself My Lord, but I would prefer to eat first. It is far easier to retell tales and stories once your have eaten your fill.\"

[Lord Lyre(#21555)] \"Ah, Aearon, I am always hungry for both food and tales, so I cannot relate to ever be satiated in either. Do you wish a slab of the roast,\" Lyre asks, offering it towards Aearon\'s plate, \"It is quite delicious. Quite.\"

[Menelglir(#17324)]

\"Eat or tales...it makes no difference, does it,\" Menelglir says. He is staring, though, at the marble statue. \"Our Prince is here, you told us.\" He gestures to the statue. \"Is that what you mean?\"

Turlach\'s eyes flick from Lord to knife to roast, then to the statue, but he does nothing, hands in lap.

[Aearon(#16333)]

\"It smells delicious my lord\" says the Captain with a smile as he cuts his own pieces of the roast, looking to his cousin and Master-at-Arms he gives them a look as if to say -play along-. Looking to the statue he waits for the Old Lord to answer the squire.

[Lord Lyre(#21555)] Lyre glances in the direction of the statue, in which he laughs, \"No no, of course not. He is, elsewhere. That is but a statue, like many I have. Have you had a chance to walk the halls, Menelglir? I enjoy art. It shows the promise of the spirit of man and the energy of its motivation. Are you a fan of art as well?\" Seeing Aearon cut his own slice, he stacks it upon a matching one on his place. \"Certainly Turlach is a fan of art? I can see the fire of it in his eye.\"

[Aearon(#16333)]

If the Captain sees this crinkle, he does not show it rather he looks at his plate and smells the food once again, a smile on his face as if to say he thinks the roast looks and smells good. Reaching upon the table he picks up a bottle of a dark red liquid and pours himself a glass saying \"Well our Lord and Prince be accompanying us then my lord? It has been some time sense any have seen him and we would much enjoy such a reunion.\"

[Menelglir(#17324)]

\"Ah, pity that,\" Menelglir says, still focused on the statue. \"We were so looking forward to having our Prince join us. Talk to us. As for art, I am not a scholar, Lord. I am sorry.\"

\"Only some kinds of art,\" replies Turlach, twisting his napkin. \"But surely you are a collector, Lord Lyre, for upon exploring your halls, we found statues that spoke, murals that slept, armor that moved! Rare, indeed. I would be surprised if this particular ... specimen were mute and unmoving.\"

[Lord Lyre(#21555)] Lord Lyre cuts into his meat, \"Ah, so you have explored more than the halls of my keep. I see. And what did you think of my collections?\" He takes a bite into his mouth and chews loudly, \"As for your Lord, in time in time. At the end of this meal, he shall be summoned.\" Another piece is cut and eaten, and he looks to trio, \"Well come and eat. If it is to be food before tales, then so be it! But you must eat if there are to be tales.\"

[Menelglir(#17324)]

Taking a piece of meat onto his plate, Menelglir begins slowly cutting it, frequently setitng his fork down to look around more. And then cut some more.

[Aearon(#16333)]

Cutting into the roast upon his plate the Captain begins to eat, chewing the finely cook meet and savoring its delicious flavor, he then follows such a bite with a drink of the wine he has poured himself. Glancing to his companions he once again gives them that look of -play along-, though this time it seems a bit more demanding. Looking back to the Old Lord he says \"Your collection is quite extensive, I have never been attacked by unworn armor.\"

\"They were oddly realistic, sir,\" says Turlach absently, reaching for the roast\'s knife ... his hand shifts, and he selects a helping of greens instead. The Man-at-Arms glances back at Aearon, as if to stress, Trying! \"Almost as if they were alive.\"

[Lord Lyre(#21555)] A laugh, nearly bellowing from the Lord, \"Attacked? By armor? Certainly not!\"

His glass of wine is lifted and emptied, \"Or have the tales begun without announcement. So be it! Tell me this -tale- of walking armor. Was it fierce? Did it talk?\" he laughs.

[Aearon(#16333)]

Swirling his wine about the Captain takes another drink and says \"Talk it did, of how /she/ fell in battle along with her brothers.\" Taking another bite of meet he says \"I touched the armor in your collection and it sprung to life, speaking of how she died then attacking us\" he gestures to his companions.

[Menelglir(#17324)]

\"Two suits of armor, in fact,\" Menelglir says, in between pushing food around on his plate.

\"Indeed,\" verifies Turlach, setting down his fork. He rolls up his left sleeve, showing the beginning of a quickly-stitched gash on his arm. \"\'Tis no tale, though perhaps we may embellish it into one.\"

[Lord Lyre(#21555)] \"A rudeness to admit the touching of another\'s belongings, is it not even in your lands?\" Lyre admonishes, looking between the pair, \"But you speak of the armor in my collection room. Even there you have traipsed?\" To himself he speaks then, \"They spoken to them. But why...\"

\"What did they say? Do they walk still?\"

[Aearon(#16333)]

Raising his glass to his lips the Captain thinks better of it and says \"We did not mean to offend my Lord, we were simply following what was written upon the plaque. The armor spoke of being the odd one out, and then attacked. The second set spoke of not being the odd man out and attacked, if they still move we do not know, I did not allow anyone to enter that room after we were attacked.\"

\"And we have paid accordingly for our trespassing, I would think,\" adds the Master-at-Arms ruefully. No food has passed his lips, though he glances down hungrily from time to time.

Menelglir dabs his napkin to his lips, then places the napkin on his plate, along with fork and knfe, to indicate that he is done...not eating.

[Lord Lyre(#21555)] \"This is not the time for such scolding, but it is a disappointment from you, Aearon. I had expected better from you and your ilk.\"

Lord Lyre sighs, tiredly, \"Menelglir, a story to change the topic from your kin\'s transgressions? Your favorite.\"

[Menelglir(#17324)]

\"A story?\" Menelglir looks up. \"The only one that I know at the moment is of a surveyor for Tar-Aldarion who was wandering these lands and happened upon an old tramp. But suspect you know that one.\"

[Lord Lyre(#21555)] \"Oh?\" Lyre\'s attention draws on the Squire fully, brows knitting together, \"Tell it to me,\" he commands, \"So that I might remember.\"

Turlach, too, sets his utensils down, crosses his arms, and gives the full appearance of listening intently. At the mention of this particular tale, his eyes dart warningly to Menelglir.

[Aearon(#16333)]

Finishing his roast and taking another drink of his wine the Captain says \"Transgressions? Truly, the transgression does not lie with us, not when /we/ were attacked and injured by possessions of yours.\" Placing his knife, fork and napkin upon his plate he looks to his cousin and smiles saying \"Tis a fascinating story, a story of how one can be taken advantage of if he has too much to drink, of how love of country can be used against a man.\"

[Menelglir(#17324)]

\"My apologies, but I am in no mood to tell tales tonight,\" Menelglir says, shaking his head at the request. \"Disappointment at not seeing my Prince in person, in the flesh, has swept all tales from my head.\"

[Lord Lyre(#21555)] A fist slams to the table, shattering the plate before Lord Lyre, \"Then you have come in poor regard for your invitation!\" he shouts. \"I have waited too long for...for this!\"

\"You will not eat at my table! You bring no conversation, no song, or stories! Only for your Lord! Well then... the words of the compact are clear!\"

Turlach flinches as shards fly past his face: he tosses Menelglir a glance like killing frost.

\"It is for the Prince that we have come to honor the compact, Lord Lyre,\" says the Master-at-Arms calmly. \"What must we do?\"

[Aearon(#16333)]

As the Old Lord Slams his fist into the table the Captain is on his feet, his chair nearly falling over as he shoots to his feet and says \"You speak of a compact, you spoke of kidnapping our lord! You have locked us within your keep! Been the cause of the death of twelve of my finest men! You are the cause of nothing but death and pain!\" the Captains words are full of anger as he speaks, glancing to his cousin and Master-at-Arms he says \"We have come for our Lord, and have played your games! Bring him forth!\"

[Menelglir(#17324)]

\"And who made this compact?\" Menelglir says, jumping to his feet. \"Getting a guest drunk and then taking his words as some sort of eternal compact to steal the souls of guests is no legal compact at all--it is dishonorable and rude. You are no Lord, Lyre.\"

[Lord Lyre(#21555)] Lyre stands in kind, though his eyes are only barely level with Aearon\'s now, Menelglir\'s words stinging just as much, his face going red, \"It is the way things are,\" he gravely intones, \"Who of you will take your Lord\'s place at my side. There is a room waiting for you now, newly carved. That is the price for your Lord.\"

\"Such is the old ways. Such is the compact, scorn though you do.\"

[Aearon(#16333)]

With his eyes upon Lyre, the Captain says \"None of us will be staying here, you will release our lord and we will leave. Your compact is dead!\" his words are cold as he continues \"You will no longer keep /us/ or our kin prisoners here\"

[Lord Lyre(#21555)] \"And how do you intend to force me!\" comes Lyre\'s response, a cruel and dark laugh following it.

[Menelglir(#17324)]

\"There is no compct, there is no agreement. This ends here,\" Menelglir says. \"More than a life has been given for green hills--we will live without them.\" He glances to Aearon, then back to Lyre. \"The greatsword, Aearon. It must be I think.\"

\"Your captives have been captive for long enough,\" says Turlach, rising slowly from his chair.

[Aearon(#16333)]

Waiting until Lyre\'s laugh has finished the Captain picks up the GreatSword saying \"By whatever means necessary.\" With his eyes filled with anger and hate for the Old lord he says \"Release our lord, we care not for green fields\"

[Menelglir(#17324)]

\"My cousin does not stand alone,\" Menelglir says, moving over and eyeing the greatsword. \"That sword is too large for you,\" Menelglir says, shaking his head. \"If we fight, fight with the weapons we are used to.\"

[Aearon(#16333)]

Without even looking at his cousin the Captain says \"Release our Lord!\"

[Lord Lyre(#21555)] \"That blade!\" Lyre takes a step towards Aearon, \"Give it to me! It is mine by right! You have no claim to it!\"

\"We have won it. Come and get it, Lord Lyre!\" growls Turlach, a hand upon the pommel of his own sword.

[Menelglir(#17324)]

\"Yours by right?! What right? By what right do you claim souls--our Prince, the mapmaker of Tar Aldarion, ladies who love song! The four siblings in your study! the painter?! By the VAlar, what right do you have to any of this! Black thing! Go back into the fires!\" Menelglir shouts in fury, drawing his own sword. \"You have no right to anything! You are a tramped, from the earth, and back into the bowels of the earth you will go!\"

[Aearon(#16333)]

Taking a step back the Captain brings the Great sword to bear, the point of the great blade pointed directly at the Old Lord saying \"Release our Lord, and it will be yours. Once we are far from these lands.\"

[The Old Lord(#30064)] \"Then I will make you beg to serve me, on your knees!\"

Lyre reaches to his blade at his side and draws it forth, \"And so I will tame your tongues with blood!\" The Old Lord seems to grow within the room, his arms thickening.

\"The time for subtleties are over, men of the hills. On your guard!\" The Old Lord strikes out towards Aearon.

\"Can your heart pay the price, Captain?\" questions Turlach softly of Aearon, drawing his own sword.

The Old Lord attacks Aearon with its super-sharp claws!

The Old Lord badly wounds him!

[Menelglir(#17324)]

Menelglir leaps forward as Lyre lunges at his kinsman, seeking the old lord\'s neck with the steel of his blade.

[Aearon(#16333)]

The Old Lords Sword cuts through the Captains chain mail, ripping open his left shoulder that sends blood into the air and flowing down his armor, grunting and cursing in pain he swings the Great Blade in his hands at the head of the Old Lord, though as he does so he screams in pain as more blood pours from his shoulder.

\"The banquet is over!\" Turlach yells at the other guests, motioning brusquely to the door with his sword. And he goes for the Old Lord\'s heel, biting with his longsword.

Aearon attacks The Old Lord with his Greatsword, but he misses by a mile.

You attack The Old Lord with your Longsword...

The Old Lord dodges your attack.

Menelglir attacks The Old Lord with his Longsword and lightly wounds him!

[The Old Lord(#30064)] Aearon\'s sword is deflected by the Old Lord, \"So, you think your heart has what is..\" his words are cut off as Menelglir\'s sword bites into his back. He turns on Menelglir, Turlach\'s blade seemingly bounces harmlessly off the giant man\'s armor.

\"I had such high hopes for you, most of all!\" He brings his blade to bear and stabs at the Squire.

The Old Lord attacks Menelglir with his longblade.

The Old Lord\'s attack misses Menelglir.

[Menelglir(#17324)]

\"How many souls, you fiend from the blackness? How many lives did you trap here with your so-called compact? How many ages of men?\" Menelglir says, practically screaming in fury as he twists right away from Lyre\'s blade and brings down a cut again, two-handed toward the man\'s neck once more.

Menelglir attacks The Old Lord with his Longsword and moderately wounds him!

[Aearon(#16333)]

As his attack is deflected the Captain shouts at the Old Lord \"I will pay any price to see your dead!\" straining his muscles he again attacks the Old Lord with the Great Blade, swinging the sword in a downwards arc so as to remove Lyre\'s sword arm.

Aearon attacks The Old Lord with his Greatsword, but he misses by a handspan.

 

\"Remember the twelve that you left dead on the slopes?\" says Turlach quietly, hewing at the Old Lord\'s calf. \"Why, if the hills were green, are they now heaped with snow?\"

You attack The Old Lord with your Longsword...

The Old Lord dodges your attack.

[The Old Lord(#30064)] Menelglir\'s blade finds it\'s target and Lyre\'s blood spills forth from his neck, as he literally bats Aearon\'s attack away with his back of his arm, but it slows him down naught.

\"I provide a peace and calm to those that stay with me! Art! Their culture preserved through eternity! What is a life to save such things as that?\" comes his question, as he swings again at the squire. The other pair\'s attacks unable to penetrate the thick metal of his armor.

The Old Lord attacks Menelglir with his longblade.

The Old Lord badly wounds him!

[Menelglir(#17324)]

\"Aearon! Throw that worseless thing away and use your spear! I cannot hold him myself!\" Menelglir yells, seeing his cousin miss. \"That blade is useless to all but Lyre--give it to another to hold, away from him, but use your spear!\"

This time, as Lyre\'s blade comes at him, it gets under the Squire\'s defenses, and a long line of red wells up in the cut to his armor. He staggers forward, screaming in pain and fury, driving his sword again to the lord.

Menelglir attacks The Old Lord with his Longsword and mildly wounds him!

[Aearon(#16333)]

Unable to stop the blade from crashing into the ground after the deflection the Captain sees his cousin struck and goes into a fit of rage, swinging the blade in an upwards strike at Lyre\'s /lower regions/ as he shouts \"It must be done with this blade! Why else would we have received it?\"

Aearon furiously attacks The Old Lord with his Greatsword and moderately wounds him!

\"Eternity in a prison,\" replies Turlach, eyes and blade blazing alike. He strikes upward at Lyre\'s knee, seeking to bring him down.

You attack The Old Lord with your Longsword...

Your attack against The Old Lord lightly wounds him!

[The Old Lord(#30064)] \"That is right, useless to all but...\" Lyre says, with a smile, even as Menelglir\'s blade barely sinks into his flesh. But by luck certainly, Aearon\'s blade slips into Lyre\'s flesh and from it a torrent of blood gushes from the wound.

The Lord screams in pain, falling to his knees, as a pool of red soon surrounds him. Almost at once, his body begins to shrink, as he turns on Aearon, blood stained teeth clamped in a wicked scowl, \"My blade. You. Will. Hand. It. To. Me.\"

Lord Lyre swings his blade towards Aearon!

Lord Lyre severely wounds him!

[Aearon(#16333)]

The Captain is again struck by Lyre\'s blade, again it cuts through his chain mail and into his flesh ripping open his chest that begins to gush blood, screaming in pain he somehow manages to keep hold of the great blade as he shouts \"You can have it!\" and with that he swings the blade in a sideways attack, in an attempt to remove the Old lords head.. the Captain is becoming ghostly white from blood loss.

\"No, you won\'t!\" cries Turlach, and setting the sword before him like a braced bar, he seeks to run and cannon into the Old Lord, bowling him away from the Captain.

You attack Lord Lyre with your Longsword...

Your attack against Lord Lyre moderately wounds it!

Aearon furiously attacks Lord Lyre with his Greatsword and moderately wounds it!

[Menelglir(#17324)]

\"Aearon no!\" Menelglir screams, seeing the Captain nearly cut down. He joins Turlach in rushing forward, hacking down with his sword.

Menelglir attacks Lord Lyre with his Longsword, but he misses by a hair.

[Lord Lyre(#21555)] First the greatsword slips into Lyre\'s chest, and again a torrent of blood spills from it. \"Graaayyggghhh!\" he cries. Turlach\'s blade finally finds a home in his side, and he swings his blade at the Master-at-Arms, an unexpected move which pulls him away from Menelglir\'s swing.

\"You. Shall. Not. Have. Him.\"

Lord Lyre the Old Lord swings his blade towards Turlach!

...and it hits! Ouch!

ARB: You\'ve been injured for -- hp\'s by Lord Lyre\'s attack...

...you have -- left. Please RP this injury accordingly.

[Aearon(#16333)]

Ripping the blade from Lyre the Captain says \"Return our Lord!\" and with that he thrusts the great blade at the Old lord, trying to run him through.. The Captain is on the verge of collapse, blood pours from his wounds and his /IS/ ghostly white.

Aearon furiously attacks Lord Lyre with his Greatsword and lightly wounds it!

Turlach is impaled for a moment on Lyre\'s sword, then thrown back, rolling limply across the stones. He struggles dazedly to his feet, slipping in a pool of blood.

[Menelglir(#17324)]

\"AEARON!!\" Menelglir tries to bodily put himself between Lyre and his kinsman, slashing out with his sword and hardly able to spare a glance as Turlach is hurled backwards, though he screams at that, too.

Menelglir attacks Lord Lyre with his Longsword and badly wounds it!

[Lord Lyre(#21555)] \"Give in to me!\" Lyre shouts in return. Indeed, the hall is filled with shouts, as the group fights up and down the great throne room, blood splashing across the polished floors, and white seats. His steps come slowly, for blood oozes from his body, and Menelglir begins to round the great man, but his eyes are affixed upon the great blade wielded by Aearon, \"Give in... to me,\" he hoarsely breaths. His blade is quicker than his words as well as the Squire\'s legs, and it seeks out Aearon once more.

Lord Lyre the Old Lord swings his blade towards Aearon!

Lord Lyre badly wounds him!

[Aearon(#16333)]

The Old Lord\'s blade catches the Captain in the right shoulder, stabbing him and cutting through his chain mail, screaming in more pain the Captain says \"DIE!\" and with the last of his strength he swings the great blade, again trying to remove the head of Lyre..

Aearon furiously attacks Lord Lyre with his Greatsword and moderately wounds it!

[Menelglir(#17324)]

Feet slipping in the blood he fights in, Menelglir is silently grim now. A two-handed stroke he hews, following Aearon\'s attack to try to leave Lyre no time to hit back.

Menelglir attacks Lord Lyre with his Longsword and moderately wounds it!

[Aearon(#16333)]

As the great blade strikes, it would seem the Captain has exhausted his strength and he stumbles falling upon his knees blood pouring from his wounds..

Turlach slips to his feet, stumbling more than charging towards Lord Lyre\'s back. \"For love of all things whole and good, be gone, master of thralls!\" he gasps, stabbing out at the back of the great figure\'s armor.

You attack Lord Lyre with your Longsword...

Your attack against Lord Lyre severely wounds it!

[Lord Lyre(#21555)] Aearon\'s attack cuts at the Lord, another spurt of blood begins. Lyre is deathly pale, his hair begins to wither, his face drying even as his own blood wets it. Menelglir catches his attention as his blade also cuts a chunk of flesh from the creature. He has no breath to scream, only turns on Menelglir, swinging his blade towards him. As he does, Turlach\'s sword pushes through the old man, it\'s tip tenting his armor in front of his stomach.

Lord Lyre the Old Lord swings his blade towards Menelglir!

Lord Lyre\'s attack misses Menelglir.

[Menelglir(#17324)]

With Aearon fallen, Menelglir places himself squarely between Lyre and his cousin and then hacks down again with the sword.

Menelglir attacks Lord Lyre with his Longsword and mortally wounds it!

[Lord Lyre(#21555)] Menelglir and Turlach\'s blades cut and hack at the Old Lord\'s body. His breath comes at a stop, the pulse of his blood slowing to naught. But his eyes fall on Aearon and his blade. Mindlessly he pursues it, a beastly attack follows a guttural sound, inhuman and foul.

\"Water,\" breathes Turlach quietly, his longsword stuck within the old lord\'s armor. \"It is his bane! The rain! The pool!\"

Gritting his teeth, the Master-at-Arms slashes his own forearm with the end of his embedded sword, then reaches out for an open-handed strike..

You recklessly attack Lord Lyre with your Bare Hands...

Your attack against Lord Lyre severely wounds it!

[Lord Lyre(#21555)] Menelglir blade cut and hack at the Old Lord\'s body. His breath comes at a stop, the pulse of his blood slowing to naught. But his eyes fall on Aearon and his blade. Mindlessly he pursues it, a beastly attack follows a guttural sound, inhuman and foul. Turlach\'s attack seems to be ineffective.

Lord Lyre the Old Lord swings his blade towards Aearon!

Lord Lyre severely wounds him!

[Aearon(#16333)]

As the Captain is again struck, this time in the stomach he begins shouting at his cousin the Captain says \"MOVE!\" and with that he not too gracefully swings the Great Sword in a downwards arc as lyre comes at him blood pouring from his body, looking to be on the verge of death

Lord Lyre collapses to the ground, defeated by Aearon!

\"Well, it was an idea,\" says Turlach, blood bubbling from his laugh.

[Aearon(#16333)]

Dropping the blade the Captain falls.. unconscious.. dead?

Tathar has arrived.

[Menelglir(#17324)]

As soon as Lyre falls, Menelglir rushes to Aearon, kneeling by his side to check if the Captain still lives and ripping at his own blue tunic to bandage what he can and staunch the blood flow from what he cannot bandage. The Squire is bleeding too from his own wounds, but that cannot be seen or noticed, covered as he is in blood. \"My kit!!!\" he screams to anyone and everyone at once. \"Get my kit!!! Now!! MOVE!!\"

Though he is concentrating on Aearon, Menelglir keeps the Great Sword right by his side, not willing to take a chance that by some magic Lyre will call it back.

[Gwendion(#24427)]

*****CRACK*****

In the far corner of the room, the sound of marble splitting sounds. It is clear it\'s cause as the sculpture of Imrahil fractures and falls from his body, the Prince falls from his confines, unconscious.

A voice then sounds in the room, barely a whisper, \"Your time is short...\" Another joins it, \"The pass will close when our Lord awakes!\", then another, \"You must go!\"

Turlach half-crawls, half-scrambles to the forgotten dining table, with its grisly display of dinner smeared with gouts of blood. He finds the satchel left by one of the chairs and hurls it towards Menelglir.

\"The Prince!\" he cries weakly. \"We must go soon. Is there no way to free the rest?\"

[Tathar(#31396)] It is now, at this opportune moment, that the door opens and Tathar steps inside. She has clearly spent some time on her appearance, but the apologetic smile on her face freezes, and then vanishes into horror. Staring around frantically, at the blood, the dying men...! Turlach moves - at least he is yet living. \"What...?\"

[Menelglir(#17324)]

\"The pass?? this fiend is not dead?!\" Menelglir says, twisting to catch the kit tossed to him. It is then he sees the body of Imrahil--eyes wide, he stares that way for a moment. A glance to Turlach and whatever he was about to ask the boy fades--instead he looks to Tathar and says abruptly--\"go check that the Prince breathes. Aearon and then Turlach need my help, and then we leave.\" He spills medical supplies out of his kit and starts to quickly work on Aearon\'s bleeding wounds.

[Tathar(#31396)] Tathar stares from one to the other, her eyes snapping to Menelglir. She nods, and hurries towards Imrahil, unaware - or uncaring - that her dress drags through blood, staining the hem beyond repair. Kneeling by his body, she feels for a pulse.

[Gwendion(#24427)] Imrahil\'s heart beats, if but weakly. His breath is shallow, but stable. His skin is dry, scaled and peeling in places, but he seems to have no other wounds.

[Combat Function Library(#15)] Menelglir tends to the injuries on Aearon.

[Aearon(#16333)]

The Captain breaths still, though barely.. blood pours and gushes from his wounds, the wounds that have yet to be stitched at least.

\"I will call the other guests,\" murmurs Turlach, leaving behind a trail of blood as he staggers to the door, and through it. He returns a moment and a few shouted words later with two of the others, still in their dinner finery one moves to help Tathar with Prince Imrahil, and the other to hover anxiously near Menelglir and Aearon.

[Gwendion(#24427)]

The voices call again, but whispers among the shouts of the living, \"The trek is far!\" Another speaks, \"Time is short!\" The third, \"Save yourselves!\"

[Menelglir(#17324)]

What wounds the Squire has not yet stitched, he has bandaged as best he can. But he at least works quickly, and soon all the wounds are at least stitched closed. \"We leave now!\" he calls out to those hovering nearby. \"Get our things take food and blankets and we leave!\" He then hastily starts bandagaing Aearon\'s stitched wounds, and when he is through he gestures for one of the men to pick up the Captain, while Menelglir grabs the greatsword, Aearon\'s spear, and his own sword. \"Now! Out!\" he says, staggering to his feet and toward the door.

[Tathar(#31396)] \"He is breathing,\" Tathar says. She glances up. \"Help me - I cannot carry him alone.\" Together, they lift the prince and half-carry, half-drag him towards the door. There is no time for niceties.

Turlach nods numbly, then makes his way over to the fallen Lord Lyre, seeking to tug his longsword out of his body with failing strength.

[Gwendion(#24427)] Brongon stands near the entrance to the hall, \"Ah.. I see you took care of things, my lords. Well, well excellent.\" His eyes budge at the carnage, \"I will gather my things. Umm... yes... good work. Good work.\"

He disappears back within the main hall.

[Menelglir(#17324)]

\"Out now!\" Menelglir says, barking the order to Brongon and Turlach. \"Out the front door if it\'s open. Brongon--go check now, and fast or I\'ll have your head.\"

[Gwendion(#24427)]

Unseen, Brongon replies, \"Of course sir... The... the door is open! The day\'s light still above! We have maybe... four hours before dark!\"

The Old Lord\'s Keep: Main Hall

The main hall of this Manor is stark yet magnificent. Columns of granite lead down a path of dark onyx. To the east and west it turns, leading to a thick heavy door of oak, closed. And to the north, a pair of thick double doors, reflecting the light as gold. Lamps dot the columns, casting a light that reflects up from the floors. The hall is quiet and cool. The walls are covered in tapestries, each depicting a battle that ever look like each other, men fighting men, men fighting beast, and men fighting darkness. At the center of the hall is a canal cut from the stone, and a rivulet flows down it. The curious fountain originates at the gold doors, bubbling up from the floor, and ending at the entrance, where it flows into a small square hole into darkness.

(This room has +inspects. Type +inspect/list for a list.

Please only inspect things when IC and in roleplay.)

Contents:

The Old Lord

Obvious exits:

East Wing, West Wing, Gold Double Doors, and Outside

The Old Lord\'s Keep: Orchard

The pass breaks into a small valley about a mile long. The air is warm, the wind only cool, and the sun bright at all hours of the day, reflecting off the snow off the peaks that surround it. The ground is soft, and while cold, is rich. At the back of the valley, a grove of several dozen fruit trees grow in landscaped lines. Behind them, a small garden with a wide variety of plants. They all bear ripe fruits and vegetables. 

Contents:

Menelglir

Aearon

Gwendion

Tathar

Obvious exits:

 Ancient Portcullis leads to The Old Lord\'s Keep: Main Hall.

 Hike Back leads to White Moutains: Hidden Pass.

Smoke follows them. Turlach, using his sword as a crutch, has smashed a lamp upon the rug, setting fire to the burnable parts of Lyre\'s Keep.

[Gwendion(#24427)] Brongon begins to fill his sack with fruit from the orchard as the rest of the party gathers outside. He mumbles to himself, \"So much food was on that table... and wine... and food...\"

[Aearon(#16333)]

The Captain is stable, and barely conscious at this point, but he finds the strength to shout, which is little more than soft words really \"We need to leave!! Move us out of here! Now!\"

\"Glut yourself later in the halls of the Prince, not the Old Lord!\" hisses Turlach. His appearance is rather frightening at this point ... besides being covered in blood, he has also set fire to his own clothing during the burning attempt. \"Drop it.\"

He staggers on, face turned towards escape ... then faceplants senseless into the soft ground.

[Gwendion(#24427)]

Brongon looks to the apples, then to Turlach, then to apples, grabs one more and bites into it, holding it with his teeth and follows after the Master-at-Arms, stumbling over him.

He curses behind the apple and begins to drag Turlach on his back. Soon another helps him and the pair slowly make their way from the Old Lord\'s Keep.

[Tathar(#31396)] Tathar and her assistant hurry on - as best they can.

[Gwendion(#24427)]

The ragtag band from Belfalas trudges across the valley, the smokey ruin of the keep slowly shrinking behind them. Hours pass, blood dotting the trail they leave in their wake. Soon the warmth of the valley gives way the to hidden pass, the chill air of the mountain slopes attacking the will of the walkers. But they continue on, in silence.

As darkness falls as the emerge from the pass, they come upon the mummified bodies of the Hosts. Their blankets still wrapped around their corpses.

\"It is cold,\" Turlach whispers from Brongon\'s back, his lips tinged with blue. \"They are -- dead. Wrap the Captain in the blankets.\"

[Gwendion(#24427)]

Brongon gasps, \"I... I cannot feel... my legs... anymore,\" the apple falls from his mouth into the ice. \"Let us take shelter with the dead. They have gear and blankets. And..\" he drops Turlach.

\"And I cannot go further.\"

[Tathar(#31396)] \"We can rest, surely?\" Tathar asks. Though she looks around at the dead men with an uneasy eye. \"I must say I would prefer another spot...\"

[Gwendion(#24427)]

Brongron stumbles towards the dead men, \"They have cloaks and bedrolls...\"

He tears at the dried blanket, ripping it from the frozen men. \"And blades should we need to protect ourselves from Lyre following us.\" He coughs, \"This air... so dry. Someone...\" he pants, \"Someone bring the Captain and the boy.\"

Turlach is dropped -- but the snow is soft and pillowy and he leaves only a soot-and-pink stain on it. \"There must be a fire,\" he gasps, \"or we shall all freeze.\"

[Tathar(#31396)] Tathar staggers, Imrahil\'s weight - even a portion of it - sapping her strength. At last, she can do no more and one of the others comes forward to take her place, and help to wrap a blanket about the Prince.

[Gwendion(#24427)]

\"Lady Tathar,\" Brongon asks between breaths and his own efforts to wrap himself into the clothes of the dead, \"Did you see what happened? I saw Lord Lyre was dead, his head split, and lots of blood and food and... oh the food looked so good.\"

\"I must know while thoughts are fresh so that I may write an account of the heroism of today!\"

[Aearon(#16333)]

Awaking once again the Captain says between labored breaths in words full of pain \"The Prince?\"

[Tathar(#31396)] \"No,\" Tathar answers shortly. Then she summons a smile. \"I am sorry, you will have to ask another. I was late, and only came when all was done. I saw a stone crack open and the prince fall from within it.\"

\"He lives,\" she says to Aearon.

[Aearon(#16333)]

With a painful smile the Captain says \"Good..\" and he is unconscious once again..

[Gwendion(#24427)]

Tears slip down Brongon\'s cheeks as he pulls a cloak off another of the dead men. \"How long have we been gone? It is as if the mountain had sucked the life from these men.\"

He sniffs, brushing ice from his bushy brows, \"The Prince was... was in a stone?\"

A glance to the Captain yields a simple, \"We must build a fire.\"

\"Later ... later,\" says Turlach distantly, huddling within his blanket. He produces a small flask, which smells like smoke when uncapped pouring some of its contents onto a ripped-off corner of cloth, he stuffs it into his wound from both sides.

\"The last of Farside\'s finest,\" the boy gasps, seething with pain. \"Give some of the Prince and the Captain ... then have some, too.\" He shoves it into the hands of the nearest person.

HEALING: You administer aid to yourself and think that you feel a little better.

[Gwendion(#24427)]

Brongon ignores Turlach\'s words and hunts around the dead for a tinderbox and flint. He looks helplessly to Tathar, \"Do... do you know how to work a Tinderbox? I...,\" he sheepishly looks around, \"I... don\'t.. I usually have some help when traveling.\"

[Tathar(#31396)] Two of the men give Brongon distinctly unfriendly looks as he speaks of needing a fire, but does nothing about it. Luckily, the wood left behind is still there and they start to gather it. Soon flames leap and crackle - but do little to warm the air as yet.

\"Captain Aearon,\" whispers Turlach, crawling over with bedroll in tow, \"it will only be a little while more, and then we shall be back in Pinnath Gelin, in the manor of your own House.\" He collects the rum from another, and holds it hesitantly to the unconscious man\'s lips.

[Aearon(#16333)]

The Captain swallows the rum as it is put to his lips, opening his eyes he looks to his Master-at-Arms and says \"Soon..\" and again he is unconscious.

[Gwendion(#24427)]

The small group huddles together around the small file upon the slopes of the White Mountains. Tired, wounded and alone, they share few wounds as they struggle to survive the night. Before them still, a day of traveling to the west, a day of traveling to the south and then they will escape the trials of this journey. Then they will return to the Green Hills, a bittersweet victory carried with them and a tale for the ages.