[center][url=https://www.roleplayerguild.com/posts/5346507][img]https://i.imgur.com/8qznSln.png[/img][/url][/center] [h3]--A Foregone Conclusion--[/h3] [color=fb3a81][i]Harebrained fools...[/i][/color] Look at all these so-called "Nobles", no different than the unwashed peasants they often scoffed at, the only difference was that they were - undeservedly - fortunate enough to be born into nobility, both were unskilled fools, but these 'highborns' were arguably worse. The peasantry had little chance to hone their talents when most of their time was devoted to serving their masters, but these blue-blooded simpletons had all the wealth, means, and freedom to sharpen their gifts that the less fortunate could only dream of having. Yet, he could see it in their very eyes, spineless cowards who would run behind their guards upon the slightest hint of danger; in the way they carried themselves, complacent brats spoiled rotten by their so-called birthright, having no need to even worry about their qualifications where their family could just throw gold coins at the problem until it goes away. [color=fb3a81][i]It would be an insult to knights everywhere to call these spoon-fed rabble as squires...[/i][/color] Liese Victoire of House Brendorn scoffed as [i]he[/i] adjusted the white cuffs of his uniform, bearing the crest and regalia of his house, befitting all the prestige and majesty carried by a descendant of Marquis Childebert Ercwulf Brendorn, one of the four Lord Councilors of Grayle. If there was any highborn out there who could carry the burden of nobility, the responsibilities demanded for all the privileges they received, it'd be him. Never before in his life that he let his boons got into his head, growing up with a deceased mother and an absentee grieving father, Liese carved a path for himself that other young nobles would soon delegate to their servants. He deserved his gifts because he [i]worked[/i] for them, not a single piece of his talents remained unpolished, and yet... that fat, lazy, hedonistic excuse of a younger half-brother became first in line to [i]his[/i] patrimony, and all just because he had a phallus whereas Liese didn't?! The very [i]thought[/i] was enough to make him squirm in utter repugnance. This... tradition, these disgustingly immoral laws that placed a person's worth based on their genitals alone, he'd tear it down at the seams and then, just like the Great Sage in ancient times, rebuild a new utopian society where every man and woman would be judged on the worth of their skills. However, Liese had no delusions that he didn't have his work cut out for him, the path ahead would be long and arduous, full of actors who would see him fail, eager for him to give up and accept his lot in life as a mere woman. Oh, worry not, for he didn't come unprepared, Alexander's blood was flowing through his veins, and whether by sword, bow, fire, wind, water, or earth, he'd cut down all who dare to stand in his way, least of all these imbeciles around him. He had decisively vanquished his opponent in the opening spar, so much so that to call it a 'spar' was overstating it, twas' more like a beatdown than anything else, and he certainly wouldn't be the last noble schmuck he'd conquer on his way to the top. For the moment, he stood at attention at the outer courtyard, among the frontmost of the group facing the stage, trimmed golden locks framing icy blue eyes glaring sharp enough to pierce through enchanted plate armor.