[center][h2][color=skyblue]Marque de Bourdeaux[/color][/h2][/center]

Marque had been prepared for this. It was a risky role to take on, the runaway nobleman. Such a question was only sensible for the knight-in-training to pose, or any who had half a functional mind. Favian had been missing for such a length of time, without nary a trace. This would be Marque's most challenging yet rewarding role to this point. [color=skyblue]"You have your sensibilities about you. This is good. I know how unbelievable my own story sounds at this juncture and am prepared to prove my word. Behold."[/color]

Marque reached into his dirty pockets and pulled out a nice, well woven piece of cotton cloth, the kind cut from the same material one would expect the rich to wear. Upon it was emblazoned the sigil of House Bryce. A prop the actor had been preparing, and one that had cost him a pretty coin, it was to be used in a future production he had little taste in. A piece he mocked for lacking soul, a propaganda piece for Lord Bryce's political agenda. Yet the cloth's quality could not be contested, and the ink had been applied with painstaking detail. If ever there was a well forged prop, it would be this one.

[color=skyblue]"My birthright, taken on the day I left to join the commoners in order to better investigate this conspiracy. Young as I was, the thought had occurred that I should need to verify my identity to reclaim my throne. Though I now have no such interest, this should suffice to prove my identity, good sir?"[/color] Once he had flashed the prop before Col just long enough for the squire to comprehend what it was, Marque did the same for the two other men sharing his presence, then pocketed the thing once more.