[b]22nd of Mid Year Stormhold Everard III The Bastard of Wayrest[/b] Everard entered the room casually enough, although his eyes scanned the welcoming sight of Orcish warriors that looked to be fashioned from bedrock. Brother Mathieu went for his sword but Everard slapped a gauntlet to his. He understood. He was wary himself, but he knew bloodshed during a summit of peace would look bad for either party. Hopefully the Orcs knew it too. Even so, he sketched a good court bow, even if these Orcish tribals didn’t have a mind for proper noble courts and chivalry, Everard did. A kinslayer, a bastard, an exile, but he’d grown up in court. “What shall I call thee? Your majesty? Your Lordship?” He waited for an answer, head bowed. [b]2nd of Sun’s Height Shornhelm, Greater High Rock Prince Narcisse Septim-Vincens[/b] The craggy peaks and valleys of the Normar region found their borders along Shornhelm’s walls. The men born and bred in Shornhelm looked at as rough, jagged and mean as the land that spit them out, so it was no wonder why Shornhelm had a history of supplying fighting men both for the Imperial City’s arena teams and any mercenary Free Company roaming High Rock or Hammerfell for blood and coin. Four such men dressed in their uniforms, flammenschwert at their sides, led him to the Vice-Duke’s throne room. “Your Grace.” He knelt before Egan Strongarm. “Stand, man. You’ve been called here by one of the sons of King Jean Valois, yes?” “Yes. I’ve come to answer the call to arms. Already, another usurper stands with his army outside of the gates of Wayrest.” Narcisse said, rising to his feet and brushing back his long mane with a hand. “You remember them, then? When your mother and father were still alive and you were under the tutelage of Gerald Valois?” Egan laughed softly and nodded his head, “You’ve grown to be like him, you know? Gerald? Enough of the ramblings of an old man. I’m to tell you the truth about all of this, Prince.” Narcisse cocked his head, “The truth?” “Aye, each of you has been called to Shornhelm to march with Crown-Prince Ancelin. Antoinne and Hrolfr have already been told and they’ve come to terms with it.” Narcisse could feel his knuckles whitening with the tension, “Ancelin is dead. He was slain by Orcish marauders at Ghast’s Pass, his host cut down, he being one of the first to fall. So are the fates of the other sons that managed to escape, and the daughters too-” “We all know their fates, your Grace, please, tell me whatever truth needs to be told.” Narcisse grew impatient. “The only living son of the Valois son is Everard.” “The bastard?” Narcisse gasped, letting his shoulders droop. “The bastard. Even so, he has a stronger claim to the throne than Ferrand’s son, Avery. Even his muddied blood holds more royalty than Ambrose’s.” Egan said. “Why?” Narcisse asked, almost a whisper. “Why use the name of his eldest half-brother? Because, he knew the fecking royalty of the other realms wouldn’t come to the aid of a [i]bastard.[/i] I was the only with sense in me, for when Everard crawled into my hall, his host in tow, I knew he wanted justice and was gathering pieces for the game we all play in High Rock. I was more than happy to lend myself to be on the board on his side. Will you swear loyalty to the cause? Sensford, Bhoriane, Alcaire, Menevia, their lords all have taken their shields and swords from the wall and stand ready to rise in defiance.” Narcisse gave it thought. A bastard for King? It was ludicrous, but he knew that Everard was their only hope of getting justice and keeping Ferrand from putting his son on the throne to puppet for his own gain. He bowed his head, “I hereby give my sworn alliance to Crown-Prince Everard of Wayrest, third of his name.” “Might as well be King, Prince Narcisse. Maybe we can win this with a Septim on our side, however watered down the Emperor’s line may be by now.” A voice came from the far end of the hall. Narcisse looked to its source and he saw a tall man, long dark hair like his own and sharp features. He was flanked by two men he recognized, Sir Roderic Gaines of the Knights of the Rose and Montyard, student of the late Spymaster of Wayrest. “You’re a mute now?” Everard asked, a dangerous looking smile on his lips. “I thought you were dead. Slain on the roads.” Narcisse said. “It’s never been part of my plan to be killed by nameless men on dirt roads, Narcisse.” Everard walked away to the other end of the hall to some other room, “I intend to be King of Wayrest by my birthday next week. By next year, High King.” ========== [b]Actions -Everard meets Yagurz -(off-text) Siege of Wayrest ongoing -Dissent grows against Ambrose and Ferrand in Wayrest, Camlorn, Shornhelm and Jehanna. -Upon his return, Everard lies in wait for the best time to strike.[/b]