Kassarock

The Arrangement [Suki & Kassarock]

That can be tomorrow's job, y'know I've also got the itch to maybe make a map for Morganyth and Eorzia as well, or would you rather leave it vague?

The other thing I've been thinking of is what event should be the catalyst that changes this from being betrothed to the wedding arc in Eorzia? Is this just them testing the waters to see if they're compatible? Is there a set time limit? Or should we have something happen in the plot which spurs them to make the decision? Thoughts?

The Arrangement [Suki & Kassarock]

The King received each of the new arrivals from atop his blackened throne with as much grace and courtesy as he could manage. Few were of any interest to him, mostly children just come of age being brought to court for the very first time. He noticed with some amusement that thus far most of those submitting to him had been female - all the youngest and prettiest daughters of his nobles. Are they trying to tempt me into forgoing my Eorzian bride and choose one of their whelps instead? Or are they filling the court with companions for her in order to gain influence over her and in turn me? Ozragad didn't care either way, the King would marry who he must. Besides, from their scant interactions he already doubted she would ever hold much sway over him.

Finally her name was called by the herald. He drew himself up and sat tall and proud when he heard so, pushing his chest out and lifting his chin. He had dressed richly for the pomp and ceremony today, something he would not have normally bothered to do so. A black doublet sewn with golden thread, an ermine fur cape lined with scarlet silk, a gilded ornamental breastplate strewn with semi precious stones, all topped off by his golden crown of garnet and jet.

They parted for her as she walked through, calm and serene, smiling as if no one in that room wanted to see her dead. Her head was raised high, looking every bit a royal. Someone had foresight to dress her as a Formori as well, her garb was cut in their style, and the cloth coloured and dyed in the current fashion of the court - no doubt inspired by Ozragad's own tastes. The dark material only served to heighten the contrast between her white skin and pale hair. It was hair like no Formori possessed, light and golden, the pairing was thus like nothing Ozragad had ever seen. She locked gaze with him as she approached the steps to throne and for once Ozragad could not seem to read her thoughts. She is doing very well all things considered. What was that, a glimmer of grudging respect?

He stared back at her with his own molten eyes, trying to search out the hidden feelings that she had stowed away beneath that calm. Nothing. Then those blue pools of secrets broke away as she bowed down to him, still unfathomable to the King. It was a deep bow, deeper than protocol dictated considering she was a Princess by blood, but it was a good piece of theatre, an unambiguous show of fealty and obedience. Is she trying to mollify my ego? Or is this for my court, make them think there is no rift between us that they exploit? Even in submission she somehow found a way to vex him.

"You may rise, Princess Elise Hydaelyn of Eorzia." He realised then, that was the first time he had spoken her name aloud. Before then she had always been Your Highness, the Princess, or (when he was angry) the Hydaelyn girl, the Eorzian child. It felt strange in his mouth, Hydaelyn, Eorzia, words he had always spoken in anger. He stared at her again for a moment. This time those words had not woken the old fury in him. He just felt tired and unsettled.

"Your dress. The colour it... it suits you." His deep voice almost stammered as he spoke. Why on earth did I just say that? Why am I complimenting her? Its hardly necessary. And yet he had spoken. Ozragad frowned, he was used to losing control in other ways, but not like this. He glanced away, suddenly unsure of himself. With a wave of his hand he dismissed her to where her ladies stood waiting, the spies that Manawyndan had seen placed with her no doubt. He would want a report from them sooner rather than later he decided.

The Princess had been the last of those called to present themselves before him, the ceremony was now over. Beneath the throne, Manawyndan gestured to the herald to make an announcement. The herald raised his voice and called out to the crowd.

"Thus concludes the court presentations! A feast held in the honour of our most distinguished guest, Princess Elise Hydaelyn of Eorzia, shall commence from noon!"

Ozragad rose up out of his throne and descended the steps of the mosaic floor of the throne room below that was now filled with murmured conversation. His advisers and other petitioners pressed in around him - all no doubt wanting a word on this, his blessing on that. There were more than usual since this was the first time he had formally held court in sometime. But despite the crowd of people competing for his attention that surrounded him, Ozragad could not help but feel his eyes be drawn to the side of the hall where Princess Elise Hydaelyn stood amongst her ladies.

Enter obligatory "New, but not new" title here..

Welcome back, always nice to see oldguild people making their way home.

The Arrangement [Suki & Kassarock]

Oh boy, I am gonna need to start making NPC sheets with all these fucking names I'm just throwing out there.

Ready to meet the like literally eight new characters I just dropped in one post?

The Arrangement [Suki & Kassarock]

When Ozragad finally slept that night he dreamed of her again.

In the dream, he had been searching for her, in a place that was both familiar and strange. It had been made up all the places that had once made him think of her, a house of discordant memories. He had frantically tore through the chambers where they had one lain to together, the empty ballroom in which he had first been caught by her bright and intelligent eyes, the secret spaces beneath the halls of her father she had explored as a girl, the mountain paths above the Ashlands where they had loved to ride alone but for each other.

Everywhere he had looked he had found clues, fragments, snatches of her. A single strand of ebony black hair on a white silken pillow, the smell of lilac perfume, the sound of soft laughter echoing down a desolate hallway. But no matter how hard he looked, Ozragad could not find her. The longer it went on the more panicked and fearful he became. What if would never find her? What if she was gone forever?

And then there was, waiting for him the garden that they had built together. She turned to him, even more beautiful than he remembered. She smiled and all fear melted away. He had so much to tell her, so much that he wanted to say.

"Liveuta I-"

Ozragad awoke to a darkness of his empty room. Alone.

---

Late that morning Ozragad was looking down into the throne room, waiting for it to fill with guests, from a hidden gantry above.

The throne room was one of the largest halls of the palace. A great long space that led from the inner ward to the intersection between the topmost tier, the one that held the private royal apartments, and the terrace on which much of the upper palace sat upon. At the end of the rectangular hall, it narrowed into a semi-circular apse, beneath a cupola studded with luminous crystal and gilded ornament that made it seem as if bright daylight was streaming down through the dome above.

Every wall of the room had carved bas-reliefs panels depicting great scenes from the history of the Formori. The best and wisest of their rulers, ancient battles fought between long dead kingdoms, hunts and games, rituals and ceremonies, all was recorded in painstaking detail. The floor was a mosaic picked out in black and white tiles, all intricate geometric patterns of woven knots and undulating waves.

Beneath the cupola sat the throne on a raised dais, a short flight of steps leading up to it. For all the ostentatious and elaborate detail that the rest of the room was decked in, the throne itself was exceedingly simple. A high backed chair carved from a monolithic piece polished black marble. Supposedly the throne was even older than the city itself. One of his ancestors had brought it with them from an ancient and venerable Formori Kingdom that had collapsed into flame and ruin millennia ago.

The gantry the King watched from was accessed from his private apartments and looked down from the high cupola at the throne below. The space was beginning to fill. They had all come, from every corner of Ozragad's Kingdom, houses great and small alike, all to gawk at the human girl who might soon be Queen over all of them. The only ones who are missing, Ozragad reflected, are Zakylwe and his kin.

Lord Zakylwe of the House of Ahoraa was one of the most powerful men amongst the Ashlander clans. Ozragad peered down to scan the throne room with is orange burning eyes. He did not see a single Ahoraa amongst the Ashlander guests in the throne room, nor anyone the smaller houses that had close ties to them, despite the fact he knew they were in the city. They came all this way to just snub me, I suppose I should be honoured.

Aside from Zakylwe, he could see a few of the other Ashlander nobles, marked out by their preference for long hooded cloaks and scarves wrapped around their necks, they were generally less gaudy than their counterparts from the mountains or marshlands that made up the rest of his Kingdom. He recognised many of the nobility in the crowd, most notably his cousin Lady Cheldarine and her two sons with her, as well as the Lord Belaphon and the Lady Blodwen - all would join them on the high table at tonight's feast.

At the foot of the throne were gathered his most prominent councillors. Manawyndan, his Lord Steward, closest of all, then his Lady Treasurer, the Lord Justicar, and the Lord Chancellor. At the back of hall were a small cluster of human guests, mostly ambassadors from Kingdoms other than Eorzia, but they were a small minority in the room. A drop of pink in a sea of dark grey Formori.

There were also various court officials, heralds, servers, guards. The head of his person guard, Rhiathon, a woman in armour with a shaven head, prowled along the lines of guards that flanked either wall of the hall. He was taking no chances, not after yesterday, and had deployed additional swords to the throne room.

The Princess would be waiting outside the chamber along with the other dignitaries arriving at court for their first time. The herald would call her name last, she was the main attraction after all. She would enter, come to the throne, show fealty and be formally presented to the palace court at large. Then several hours of tedious mingling before the feast.

"Right. Let's get this farce over and done with." The King muttered to himself, as he marched towards the stairs that led down into the throne room.

The Arrangement [Suki & Kassarock]

The sounds of fighting grew distant before all but disappearing as the great iron bound gates of the palace swung closed. Behind its pale and strangely glowing walls the aura of eerie calmness that had cloaked the city from afar returned. The gates opened into the outer ward of the palace, a large paved space that used for outdoor ceremonies or the assembly of Ozragad's armies in war-time. It took up a significant portion of the lowest terrace of the palace, the rest of the tier given over to the practical administrative buildings of the complex. Beyond the edges of this courtyard were the stables and storehouses, the granaries and armouries, the barracks and blacksmiths. All the necessary parts of working palace.

Above the square, taking up the several of the next terraces, loomed the chaotic mass of towers and halls that made up the palace proper, where the majority of the courtiers, servants, and soldiers lived and slept. Much of the unearthly glow that lit courtyard emanated from there - the cornices of the walls and ridges of the roofs set with softly glowing crystal that cast its light belong. Beyond that, towering on the highest tier of all, were the royal apartments of King Ozragad himself, their spire tipped towers almost brushing up against the curving ceiling of the cavern.

Manawyndan took the view in as he carefully swung his leg over his horse, the movement was measured and considered. When he had been young he had leapt on and off and horses with no thought, but his bones were brittle and his muscles aching now he had reached his venerable old age and hence caution was best observed. He ran a hand through his short iron grey hair to scratch at the nape of his neck. He was an older Formori, thin and wiry, with a clean shaven sharp chin and a face set with narrow eyes the colour of dark bronze.

"This is a fine mess." He muttered to himself as a stable hand came to take his horse, a look of deep consternation plain upon his face.

The Princess was already exiting the palanquin, the carriers who had borne it up through the city at post-haste had set it down as soon as they were safe behind the palace walls. Manwyndan did not blame them, they had practically run the last third. Ozragad would have probably reprimanded them for that, but he did not have the heart to do so. He finally got a good look at the Princess, she looked very young to him, but he supposed most people looked very young to him after more than three hundred years. She also looked composed considering the mob outside that had been baying for her blood a few minutes before. As she approached him she smiled politely, but with her guards close to her back still. Understandable given the circumstances. He relaxed his expression.

"No need to thank me, Your Highness, I am but a humble servant," He paused to cough and clear his throat as he spoke the rasp in the old Formori's voice did not lessen. Manawyndan gave an apologetic, though wry, smile of his own. "And I cannot help but feel partly responsible for your current predicament. This unrest, I mean, as regent in the King's absence."

That was true of course, Manawyndan had been in charge of the powder keg of a city before it had ignited into panic and chaos. But equally true was the fact that Ozragad's plans concerning the Princess had largely been hatched in Manawyndan's mind. His King would have never accepted such a peace offering except at his encouragement. That made him largely responsible for Elise Hydaelyn's presence in Morganyth.

"My name is Manawyndan." He bowed to the Princess. "Amongst other duties, I serve as the King's Steward here at the palace. Apartments have been set aside for your use, and the use of your men, in the Silver Tower for the time being. My men can show you the way. The seneschal oversees domestic arrangements directly, I will send them over once you have settled in to ensure everything is to your satisfaction, and that you have all you need."

He beckoned two of the soldiers who had accompanied them up through the city.

Please show Her Highness to her quarters. Despite his smile and genial appearance, there was a firmness to those words. A second command went unspoken in them: And ensure she remains there.

---

It was not until much later that Ozragad finally returned to the palace. Outside night had fallen, but under the mountain the twilight only dimmed, the light of the Moon Crystal still glowing in the dark of the cavern. Manawyndan was waiting for him in the foyer of the royal chambers, hands clasped behind his back, staring into a fire that had been lit in the grate of oversized hearth. Servants rushed to attend the King and remove his armour, the old Formori general stayed where he stood.

"Well... That could have been handled better." He spoke without looking at the King, considering the flames still. Ozragad raised his arms to allow the various buckles and straps of his plate harness to be undone. There was a streak of blood down one side of his face. He was too tired to play games.

"Could have been handled better?!" The King barked at his most trusted adviser. "You've left me looking like a fool! What sort of King cannot control their own people? This should never have happened. You should have dealt with this decisively before I ever returned, instead I have to-"

"I was not speaking of my own conduct." Manawyndan glanced over and cut off the King mid sentence. There was a pause.

"All of you out. Now!" The servants that had been attending him scurried out of the room at the sound of the wroth in his voice, leaving the two of them alone. Neither spoke. Manawyndan turned back to the flames whilst Ozragad stepped out of his discarded armour. The King walked over to a ewer of water that stood on a long sideboard of dark polished wood. He poured some into a large bowl and began to wash his hands.

"Well. Speak."

The water began to turn pink.

"Today was ill handled. You should have left that to Tiernon and the watch. A King should be wrathful to his enemies, merciful to his subjects, not leading a cavalry charge into them.

"Those were my enemies thanks to you."

"They were your people!" The general suddenly shouted, turning away from the fire to look at Ozragad. "They were your people. The people you shed so much blood for. All for their sake, you said. So that they would have a better life and better future. And here you are, washing their blood from your hands."

"YES I KNOW! I know..." The King dashed the bowl from the side table with his fist, it crashed to the floor, spilling its contents across the marble floor. He buried his face in his hands, fingers clutching digging into his ashen skin. When they came away there was a cold and hard look in his eyes, his voice was choked when he spoke.

"My hands and not the only ones stained here. The only reason this ever happened is because of your ridiculous plan to have me marry some fucking Eorzian child and your inability to keep order in my city! They would have never turned on me otherwise and I would not have to do as I have done! This blood is as much on your hands as mine!"

Aside from the crackle of the wood burning in the fireplace behind Manawyndan, there was silence. The two men looked at each other, a old weariness hanging over both of them and a guilty look in their eyes. Manawyndan walked across the room to a flagon of wine that had been set out. He poured two glasses and handed one to his King.

"How many dead?"

"I don't know. At least six of ours if you count the one from yesterday, definitively more of them." The King spoke with a grimace, he gulped down the wine thirstily.

"This will only be fuel for the fire. It needed dealing with... but not by you personally. You know this, what's happening with you?"

The King sighed and stared down into his goblet.

"All this business with the Princess... I will not lie... It has unsettled me. Old wounds made fresh. I've been letting my anger get the best of me... no Eorzians to unleash it on either. I worry that peace does not suit me."

"Remember I've been a soldier much longer than you, and I think I can live with peace." That elicited a sad smile from Ozragad. He drained the goblet, filled it again from the flagon, and walked over to the fire to warm himself.

"How was she, the Princess?"

"She handled it better than you." The King laughed with a single harsh bark at that.

"Oh she was probably itching to get of there and slaughter some Formori herself I imagine. You saw to it that she was accommodated?"

"She's in the Silver Tower, so are her guards. I have our guards on the tower doors and the courtyard outside. The seneschal assigned her chambermaids, all people we trust to watch her. I had the kitchens send up a meal for her, had it tasted beforehand for poison, servers all people we trust. Do you still want to go through with the formal presentation and feast tomorrow? It might seem distasteful considering..."

The King sighed again and grabbed a chair to pull it closer to the fire. He sat down in it heavily, swirling the goblet in his hand to make the wine turn into a dark red whirlpool within. He stared into the fire, watching the flames writhe as they consumed the logs.

"Let's get it over and done with. Don't show any weakness. People will forget what happened today in time. I need to keep appearing strong for now.

"I'll see to it, sire." Manawyndan turned to leave the room.

"Manawyndan, wait..." Ozragad stopped him, but did not look at him, his gaze still focused on the fire. "I need you know... What happened out there today... That wasn't the real me... I took no pleasure in it."

The old soldier had stopped at the doorway to face his King once more, when he spoke it was softly, like a grandparent wishing a child goodnight as they put them to bed.

"I never thought so, not even for a second."

The door closed shut. The King was left alone with his thoughts.

They whispered to him.

Liar.

The Arrangement [Suki & Kassarock]

I think I'll probably have a little scene of Ozragad coming back into the palace, then you could skip to the next day with your post if that's what you want?

And yeah, feel free to world build as you wish, this is a collaboration after all.

The Arrangement [Suki & Kassarock]

Hey I was thinking about maybe time skipping either to tonight or tomorrow morning with my next post, would you feel alright with that or did you want to roleplay through settling in for the night?

I was also wondering if you wanted to take the lead with what your quarters would be like and what servants Ozragad/Manawyndan send to you? I realise I've kinda been monopolising on the world building thus far, don't want you to feel like you have a lack of agency or anything.

CLOSED - To Reach for a Crown of Stars - Character Driven Sci-Fi Nation/Faction Roleplay

@DeadDropNah I'm gonna say this is officially closed now, I'm in too many RPs to run one of my own now without risking burnout

Word association Game!

Nazi