Post by mehrunes on Aug 3, 2006 4:47:52 GMT -5
Edit: Please note that this story is entirely fictional. It is set in Aden, yes, but it does not happen in Aden as we know it. Also, this is not an open RP, this is a story that I will update fairly frequently. IMPORTANT: I have changed the name of Harvatia to include a friend's character into this story. =D
The Lord of Aden, a Mystic Muse known as Gwenthir sat upon his shining throne, gazing forward seemingly a thousand miles ahead. A lock of shining blond hair strayed in front of his eyes. Whether he noticed it or not was impossible to tell. He was lost somewhere in his thoughts. The Lord’s Chamberlain, a practical old man whose name is now long forgotten, stood by the throne, idly chatting with the Captain of the Royal Guard, Ararane. The throne room as uneventful. A page or two crossed the floor, off running any one of numerous errands pages were assigned. However, such a crossing was rare, because many chose to steer clear of the eyes of the Lord, for those who looked at him the wrong way were sure to meet Shillen, the Goddess of Death, sooner than expected.
A young boy, a page, walked swiftly and with great determination down the western hallway adjacent to the throne room. In his hand he carried nothing, though in his mind and on his tongue he carried news that could change all that is known about the Kingdom of Aden. He stepped inside the throne room, using a service door that is out of view from the public, and behind the throne. The Chamberlain who had been merrily conversing with the Mercenary Captain lost his glow when he saw the page. “If you’ll excuse me, Anarane,” the Chamberlain spoke with annoyance. The Chamberlain walked calmly to the page, his impatience at the interruption quite obvious on his face. “What is this about, young man? You know that the service door is used only in dire emergencies!” he spoke sharply in the boy’s face.
“But sir…” the boy breathed outward quietly.
“I do not want excuses! Now tell me why you’ve interrupted me.”
The page stammered slightly, unable to control his natural fear of being reprimanded, “The Lord of Gludio, Waya, has given release to all prisoners of the war in his dungeon. He sends word that the prisoners were no longer a threat to his realm, and they walk free men now.”
“He….what?!” The Chamberlain seemed to lose color in his cheeks, and his expression turned from one of anger and annoyance, to fear. “Leave this room, now,” he spoke in a monotone to the page. The page walked briskly out of the service door, but changed to a dead sprint as he drew further away from the throne room…
The Chamberlain strode, eyes down to his feet in the direction of the throne. Anarane saw his expression, and sadness crossed her face. She was concerned for what the page had told the Chamberlain, for it had changed his mood completely. The Chamberlain stopped beside the throne, and gazed up at Anarane. His face spoke clearly of what he now knew, without even saying a word. Anarane mouthed the word “No”. As the foremost leader in warfare in the Lord’s court, she knew what Gwenthir would do if he learned about the information she and the Chamberlain had. However, the Chamberlain had no choice in the matter. He would be held accountable for treason if he did not tell the Lord this knowledge.
Gwenthir hadn’t moved a single muscle during this whole exchange. His eyes were still glazed over in deep thought, and his face was set in stone with his accustomed frown. The Chamberlain sighed softly, cursing himself under his breath. He spoke quietly and with a hint of hesitation in his voice, “Your Highness, if I may have a wor-…”
Without moving a muscle more than he must, the Lord cut him off, “Tell me what it is already, I am busy.”
The Chamberlain closed his eyes for a moment, and his resolve rose tenfold, “Yes sir. Lord Waya has sent word that he has released the prisoners from Dion, against your orders.”
Gwenthir remained silent for a few seconds, fully absorbing what has entered his ears. Then, suddenly and without any forewarning, the Lord of Aden, the most powerful man in existence stood from his throne and turned to his Chamberlain. He grabbed the old man’s collar, lifting him off the ground with surprising strength. His ice blue eyes stared deep into the frightened Chamberlain’s own, and he spoke slowly and steadily, “Lord Waya is now wanted for treason to my kingdom. He is to be removed from his position as Lord of Gludio, and to be brought here, to answer to me. If this is not done within one week, we shall go to war with him, and any who support him. Is that understood, Chamberlain?”
The old man merely nodded quickly. Gwenthir then dropped him to his feet and sat on his throne once more, gazing into the furthest reaches of his mind.
The Lord of Aden, a Mystic Muse known as Gwenthir sat upon his shining throne, gazing forward seemingly a thousand miles ahead. A lock of shining blond hair strayed in front of his eyes. Whether he noticed it or not was impossible to tell. He was lost somewhere in his thoughts. The Lord’s Chamberlain, a practical old man whose name is now long forgotten, stood by the throne, idly chatting with the Captain of the Royal Guard, Ararane. The throne room as uneventful. A page or two crossed the floor, off running any one of numerous errands pages were assigned. However, such a crossing was rare, because many chose to steer clear of the eyes of the Lord, for those who looked at him the wrong way were sure to meet Shillen, the Goddess of Death, sooner than expected.
A young boy, a page, walked swiftly and with great determination down the western hallway adjacent to the throne room. In his hand he carried nothing, though in his mind and on his tongue he carried news that could change all that is known about the Kingdom of Aden. He stepped inside the throne room, using a service door that is out of view from the public, and behind the throne. The Chamberlain who had been merrily conversing with the Mercenary Captain lost his glow when he saw the page. “If you’ll excuse me, Anarane,” the Chamberlain spoke with annoyance. The Chamberlain walked calmly to the page, his impatience at the interruption quite obvious on his face. “What is this about, young man? You know that the service door is used only in dire emergencies!” he spoke sharply in the boy’s face.
“But sir…” the boy breathed outward quietly.
“I do not want excuses! Now tell me why you’ve interrupted me.”
The page stammered slightly, unable to control his natural fear of being reprimanded, “The Lord of Gludio, Waya, has given release to all prisoners of the war in his dungeon. He sends word that the prisoners were no longer a threat to his realm, and they walk free men now.”
“He….what?!” The Chamberlain seemed to lose color in his cheeks, and his expression turned from one of anger and annoyance, to fear. “Leave this room, now,” he spoke in a monotone to the page. The page walked briskly out of the service door, but changed to a dead sprint as he drew further away from the throne room…
The Chamberlain strode, eyes down to his feet in the direction of the throne. Anarane saw his expression, and sadness crossed her face. She was concerned for what the page had told the Chamberlain, for it had changed his mood completely. The Chamberlain stopped beside the throne, and gazed up at Anarane. His face spoke clearly of what he now knew, without even saying a word. Anarane mouthed the word “No”. As the foremost leader in warfare in the Lord’s court, she knew what Gwenthir would do if he learned about the information she and the Chamberlain had. However, the Chamberlain had no choice in the matter. He would be held accountable for treason if he did not tell the Lord this knowledge.
Gwenthir hadn’t moved a single muscle during this whole exchange. His eyes were still glazed over in deep thought, and his face was set in stone with his accustomed frown. The Chamberlain sighed softly, cursing himself under his breath. He spoke quietly and with a hint of hesitation in his voice, “Your Highness, if I may have a wor-…”
Without moving a muscle more than he must, the Lord cut him off, “Tell me what it is already, I am busy.”
The Chamberlain closed his eyes for a moment, and his resolve rose tenfold, “Yes sir. Lord Waya has sent word that he has released the prisoners from Dion, against your orders.”
Gwenthir remained silent for a few seconds, fully absorbing what has entered his ears. Then, suddenly and without any forewarning, the Lord of Aden, the most powerful man in existence stood from his throne and turned to his Chamberlain. He grabbed the old man’s collar, lifting him off the ground with surprising strength. His ice blue eyes stared deep into the frightened Chamberlain’s own, and he spoke slowly and steadily, “Lord Waya is now wanted for treason to my kingdom. He is to be removed from his position as Lord of Gludio, and to be brought here, to answer to me. If this is not done within one week, we shall go to war with him, and any who support him. Is that understood, Chamberlain?”
The old man merely nodded quickly. Gwenthir then dropped him to his feet and sat on his throne once more, gazing into the furthest reaches of his mind.
