Little Bill

Tales Of A Gilded Throne

"James Conrad." Kenten spoke. He didn't especially trust him, or believe in his ability to lead, but his vote made him all the closer to getting his sword back. An honorable choice, it was not, but Kenten was not an honorable man.

Tales Of A Gilded Throne

Lord Kenten stood alone, on the outskirts of the congregation of lords. He knew he wasn't necessarily a long-awaited guest, and was at least smart enough to keep it that way. After all, most questions directed to him weren't ever regarding his children's studies, or gifts, or other sundry bits of small-talk made by the proud lords.

No, they would be about the son that he had lost in a bet, or the innumerable bandit camps in his lands, or his vassal houses that were losing faith in his rule. They would criticize him. And there was nothing he hated more than to be criticized by lesser men, men who hadn't known the scorn of bastardy, or of stinging winds, or of the threat of usurpation. It wasn't a secret, what he thought of them. Lesser men, who knew nothing of the world outside of their supercilious ivory towers.

As luck would have it, he saw the least of these lesser men out of the corner of his eye, and one he wanted to speak to at that. Lord James Conrad of The Isle of Men, leader of the Sea-Born. Kenten scoffed under his breath.

"Bloody Sea-Born", he silently repeated to himself. "Pompous sailors and raiders, more like." He continued to mutter to himself, a safe enough distance away. "Wouldn't know a thing about the mainland if it jumped up and bit 'em on the arse." His disdain for House Conrad, and near every other house, had little limit. Unlike every other house, however, he wanted something from Conrad. He needed something.

"Lord James," He said, walking up to the younger lord. It was an odd juxtaposition. Lord Conrad, who was thin and tall, wearing his most regal garb and carrying boxes of gifts, next to the short, stocky Cragmore, wearing a stained leather tunic that had a small spot of unnoticed caked-on bird guano.

"Pleasure t'see you again," He said, lies already pouring from his crooked teeth.
"It's been many a great turns." And, truthfully, it was. The last time he had seen Lord Conrad, it was nearly sixteen years ago, and he had drunkenly made and lost a bet to him, handing over his priceless family sword, Tempest, and his infant son, Harper. One of his greater defeats, and without even unsheathing a sword.

James who had been talking with his men about what he had abtained when he heard a familier voice. He turned to see it none other then Lord Kenten a man who thought would be his worst enemy at this meeing and is yet the second man to greet himself before James. "What a surprise." Jame said standing up with his hand out to shake. "Though we may not be friends I still once again offer apoligies for what had happened. Along with you being a bastards most Lords dislike you but you prove them wrong. A bastard could become a Lord even a head of house." Jame Smiled and knew his old pal wanted something but wasn't sure about what.

"Please take a seat we can discuss this like men can we not?" James grabbed his glass of wine and took a sip waiting to hear what the man had to say.

Kenten shook his hand, nodding eagerly. In the grand scheme of things, the two were opposites, and it showed. Lord Conrad's biggest fault was his honesty -- He wasn't known to lie, cheat, or steal, and when he spoke, he had the habit of saying a lot. At this time, 'A lot' was to only bring up Kenten's lineage. His hated lineage. The reason he was known as "The Bastard King" before he was called "The Smuggler King".

Kenten's greatest fault was hard to find, being a man with far too many, but it was arguably his ability to lie. He would lie to get himself into conflict, and lie to get himself out of it. He would lie to appease men under his rule and to appease those who weren't. He would lie only more often than he breathed, and only less often than he was awake. He had lied since he was born, and when he died, he would likely lie to death himself.

He was dishonest, in other words.

"I'll be blunt with you Conrad. You're a man who's wont to speak plainly, so I'll be doing the same -- None of this complex foreign desert negotiatin' business." He said, nodding his head towards the Kreshvi with a perplexed look on his face. "I have something you want, you have something I want. What's there keeping us from 'em?"

James gave a nice hardy laugh. It was true James was rather honest and but things bluntly."I guess you are right you have a vote I have a sword. You also have metals my allies land's need metals. I assume that should be a sutiable arrangement?" James took a bite of some of his chicken and another small drink of wine waiting to hear Kenten.

"Aye." He said, twisting his face into a smile. "In exchange for you returning the Cragmore Makitherin Sword, Tempest," he said, slowly and carefully, sure to not muddle anything up, "My vote for your Regency is guaranteed." He hawked up a great deal of phlegm, and spat it into his palm. "Agreed?"

James thought for a for a few seconds he began to slowly nod "Aye but only if I win. I won't give up a valued sword should I lose. Also should I win you'll have to wait in Skyhaven for a month or two till my son can arrive and bring it."

Kenten's spit-covered palm balled up into a fist a moment before James could shake it. "Listen, mate. I can vote for you, and that I can promise. I can even promise that I'll stand and speak, and talk about why you should be Lord Regent instead of that big'un Kreshvi, or the high-and-mighty Sovanids, or even the Paragon boy himself." He hid his anger, only because he felt the situation was salvageable.

"But no matter how hard I try, no matter what I say, I cannot actually promise your Regency, and I'm an honest man, y'see, who'll only shake on what he can promise." He leaned back into his chair, gesticulating with his hands. "Whereas, you can promise a sword being given to me either way. And a sword that's said to be cursed, mind you." He raised an eyebrow toward James. "I hear word that men don't like taking it on ships, and you and I both know why." He cleared his throat, leaning forward, for one final word.

"I can promise you a vote and a speech, but I can't promise you that it'll be enough. I'm only one man, Conrad. You can promise a sword either way, especially one your men don't even like touching."

James nodded and began "At least you sir are somewhat truthful. I can agree to these terms and should I win you'll get your sword within a month or 2 and should I lose my guards and I can accompany you to your lands till my son arrives at House Whiteshorn to visit Flint's house and his wife's homeland. It was a pleasure talking to you and seeing you again" James shook Kenten's hand and waited to see if he had anything else to say.

Kenten shook his hand. "Aye. That'll do."

As Kenten walked off, he continued to think to himself, slinking along the walls where he had started. He needed the sword just as much as James needed regency, and for the same reason -- Glory. James wanted to be Lord Regent to give his family a place in history. He wanted it as a symbol. Kenten wanted Tempest returned in the hopes that it would prove his capability as Lord of Stonereach. He too, wanted it as a symbol.

Tales Of A Gilded Throne

Kenten Cragmore

"It's a shame, if you ask me. Damn shame, boy-king and all " Lord Kenten gruffly muttered, barely aware that no one had asked him. He had been traveling for three days, and was nearing the city of Skyhaven. He traveled with a small entourage, all on horseback, while he rode a diregoat. Not his diregoat, but a diregoat. Cragmores of the past had bonded with theirs since infancy, minding to train them from a young age. Not having been permitted ownership of one in his youth as a bastard, Kenten's goat was unnamed and untrained, occasionally trying to buck or veer to the side. Each time he would try, Kenten would dig his heels into his side, and each time he would dig in his heels, the goat would let out a loud bleat. Needless to say, the journey was far from silent.

In the front of the entourage, there was Kenten. He felt it only appropriate that the Head of House lead, and wanted his face to be the first the Skyhaven peasants would see. He wore his finest clothes, which had been slowly tarnished by the three-day travel through Stormgully and the mountains above. He wore a leather tunic, stained by splashes of grease and wine, and wrapped himself in a long goat's pelt cape that dragged behind him while he rode. Most everything he wore had been chewed on by moths, furthering his tawdry appearance, while his beard had been trimmed but was still full enough to hide most of his yellowed teeth and receding gums from sight when he spoke. His hair, usually oily and matted, had been combed and pulled back. He wore a silver circlet around his slowly heightened hairline -- He usually wore gold, but he was not so foolish as to wear a crown to the meeting of the sort. Finally, every piece of jewelry, every necklace, bracelet, and ring available at Stonereach, he wore. To say that his appearance was genuine to himself was true, but it was not a compliment, as he had managed to be gaudily overdressed and ill-prepared, all at the same time.

The rest of his entourage, while not as needlessly bawdy, was just as weather-beaten. Three men rode behind him, one carrying the Cragmore banner, two carrying maces. They hadn't run into bandits along the way, nor did they originally plan to, although Kenten's insistence on dressing as loudly as possible brought their concern to the matter, and so they had been on-edge and prepared for an ambush for the trip's entirety. They wore simple brown leather armor, riding simple brown horses, and carried simple provisions.To an observer, they would've appeared more in-tune to what a proper Westerner should've looked like -- Simple.

With Lord Kenten being occupied with talking, they reached the city in no time at all. Judging by the crowds, he was late, but not last. As he and his entourage trotted through the city to Phoenix Palace, there was a distinct difference in his arrival to the others, and it was their welcomed applause. Some clapped for their arrival, a few even cheered. The rest, even the majority, did not. While most chose to respond with indifference, there were a select few who jeered at the Cragmore's arrival.
"There he is, the Bandit King!" One boy shouted. "Make way, for the Lord of Whores! Make way, for the Lord of Smugglers!"

Kenten held his anger, and held his silence. "They are fools," He thought to himself. "Jealous farmers and merchants."
The taunts gradually subsided the closer he was to the gate of The Phoenix Palace, and by the time he had entered, they were gone altogether. As a stablehand gawked at his diregoat, Kenten dismounted. "See to it that he's kept alone." He patted one of the large horns, causing the goat to bleat once more. "Wouldn't want any of those fancy Eastern horses getting gored in the stables." He chuckled darkly to himself, advancing towards the main chamber doors. "Tell my men to wait in the goat's stable too, actually. It's my only one. Don't want him catching cold." With another bout of spittle-flecking laughter, he nodded briskly to the servants opening the chamber doors, and stepped inside.

Animorphs

Dedonus said
Doesn't that imply that Iikka will be stuck in an animal form and we kick him out? Or are we talking personality wise? If it is the former, aren't we getting a little carried away here?

I meant in the ex-animorph villain way.

Animorphs

Any objections to Iikka being the David of the group?

Animorphs

In that case, I'd definitely recommend this blog. I've read most of the books (I forget what point it was, but I stopped at a point it kinda jumped the shark), and this blog got me all caught up. It's also a pretty funny read, too.

Tales Of A Gilded Throne- NS

House Cragmore



Head of House
Kenten Cragmore

House Specialty
Unlike most great houses, House Cragmore's specialty is not found in strength, wealth, knowledge, or any similar noble pursuit -- House Cragmore's specialty is goat breeding. Originally known as "Sraav Kodar" in their old tongue, meaning "Sheep Breeder", House Cragmore's founders made their fortune breeding what is now known as the "Diregoat", a horse-sized goat capable of traversing the treacherous mountains. House Cragmore's use of their diregoats made them wealthy, as they could pull carts of gold and gems from their mines three times heavier than any horse could, they were sold to surrounding houses for exceptionally high prices, and yielded extremely thick pelts used for the foul Stormgully weather. Naturally, when House Cragmore created their sigil, they chose the very beast that gave them their riches.

House Ancestral Weapon
House Cragmore prides itself on one ancestral weapon, but two. Tempest and Rainclad (More commonly known as The Sword and Shield of Darmull Cragmore) were used by House Cragmore's founder in the Wyrm War. It is said that Darmull defeated a number of wyrms during the war by using Tempest and Rainclad to conjure great storms, that would then force the Wyrms from the sky. Although any Cragmore who wields both has this power, Kenten Cragmore lost the sword Tempest in a wager with Lord Conrad years ago.

Important Members

Lord Kenten Cragmore of Stonereach (43)
Simply put, Lord Kenten is the reason most put "The Once-Great" as a prefix to House Cragmore. Born the bastard son of Lord Ferris Cragmore and a barmaid, Lord Kenten began life as "Kenten Gale", being sired at Stonereach with the rest of the Cragmore family. He grew up mean-spirited, unruly, and jealous of the family he never truly belonged to. Naturally, these traits made him the primary suspect when his half-brother Randall, heir to the throne, was found drowned in Lake Dencliff.
Given a Trial by combat, he chose Ha'sil Boksh, a Kreshvi mercenary, as his champion. After Kenten won his trial, the elderly Lord Ferris had no choice but to legitimize his bastard on his deathbed. Ever since then, Lord Kenten has done a famously poor job as Lord of House Cragmore -- Their Diregoats have dwindled from the hundreds to the tens, smugglers deal openly in taverns, and bandit raids are at an all-time high -- Even their ancestral sword and newborn child were both lost in a bet to House Conrad. Although there have been many attempts on his life, they have all been fruitless, only succeeding in killing two of his guards, and his wife. In spite of all of these shortcomings, he is unfailingly narcissistic and cocky. Although he is not brave, smart, or strong, he possesses enough low-cunning to line his coffers with the money of smugglers and thieves under his payroll.

Benjamin Cragmore, Son of Kenten, Heir of House Cragmore (19)

If Benjamin has learned anything from his father, it is only their house words, "We Will Withstand". Although he would be slow to admit it, he shares some traits with his father as he has little problem bending rules, is utterly stubborn, and cares little for the world outside of Stormgully. However, unlike his father, he is quick-witted, well-liked, and able to hide his anger. He is the best warrior of the Cragmore children,but cares little for gold or tourneys, as most of his time is occupied trying to restore his house to its former greatness. Other than his skill with the sword and shield, he is the only Cragmore who has formed a bond with a Diregoat, making him the most proficient rider.

Reliwen Cragmore, Daughter of Kenten (18)

Equal parts tomboy and proper lady, Reliwen's time is either taken up training with her brother Melvan, who she easily bests, or singing. While not especially beautiful, and not especially rich, she expects that her singing voice is what will grant her a fair husband, and rarely raises her voice because of it. Second to her singing is her swordplay, which she is equally proud of. She is closest to her brother Melvan, and sees Benjamin as too serious and prideful of their meager ancestry. She dislikes her family history as a whole, feeling that an ancestry centered around goats is unladylike and that her father has ruined what remained of the Cragmore name, and hopes to get married soon, if only to distance herself from her house. Aside from singing and swordplay, she is a talented harpist, as well as a talented linguist -- She is one of the few Westerners who can speak with the Kreshvi in their native tongue.

Melvan Cragmore, Son of Kenten (17)

Unlike Benjamin, Melvan is soft-spoken and sallow. He is the only Cragmore that has not abandoned Kammeth, or even religion as a whole. Having been born sickly, he believes his life was given to him by Kammeth, and follows him unwaveringly, hoping to one day become the first Cragmore Dawnbringer. He enjoys uncharacteristic hobbies for a young nobleman -- Most of his time is spent either in prayer, walking through the nearby forests, or tending to household chores. He believes keeping himself disciplined and occupied will keep him in Kammeth's graces, thinking that to be born to Kenten Cragmore is already a curse enough. He has a slight limp, and walks with a blackthorn cane, topped with a silver goat's head.

Harper Cragmore, Son of Kenten, Betrothed to Mena Conrad (15)

The Cragmore family knows little of Harper, and to Kenten, this is more than fine. Born 'different', Harper has trouble vocalizing his thoughts, speaks with a stutter, and has trouble with fine motor skills. Flat-faced and slope-eyed, it is easy to tell he was born with a defect, which garners both pity and disdain from those around him, leading him to have never left the Conrad Castle. He is incredibly shy, usually trying to hide behind Lord Conrad or one of the Conrad siblings, although he is large enough that none sufficiently hide him. Although he has the mentioned setbacks, he is unusually talented with swordplay, from fencing to using greatswords. He knows very little of his Cragmore heritage, having been won in a bet with Lord Conrad as a newborn, along with his family sword, Tempest. However, Lord Conrad views Harper in a better light than most, and with more affection than his own true father. He is betrothed to James Conrad's daughter, Mena.

Nation/Realms Name
Stormgully

House Motto
We Will Withstand

Region/color on map
Dark Blue

Capital: Stonereach City

Other Major Settlements:
House Hoyan of The Spire
House Espetal of Floodwall
House Morton of Redwing Pass
House Anthon of Cliffhurst

Population: 2,240,000

Culture: In a way, The Gullish resemble the very lands they live on -- Tough, simple, and dour. Most live in the same cycle of spending their days working in mines and their nights drinking at taverns, with very little time left for much else.

Influence and relations: TBD

Military: TBD

Landscape: Stormgully, as the name suggests, has foul weather year-round. Intense winds and storms are not uncommon, and an overcast drizzle is considered "Sunny". The area recieves a fair deal of fog and mist, and is one of the few areas to receive hail. It is notably hilly and mountainous, so while there is little farmland, Stormgully prides itself on their mines, yielding a variety of stones, gems, metals, gold, and even rare veins of Makitherin.

Wildlife: Aside from the usual forest animals, Stormgully has a large amount of goats, ram, and sheep.

History: TBD

Strengths
Hard to Reach
Stonereach is named for the difficult mountain trek required to reach it, sometimes with travelers on foot literally having to reach for stones. Difficult to reach without diregoats and impossible to reach on horseback, House Cragmore's history features no battles lost to invasion, and for good reason. Aside from the steep climb, there is also the infamous Stormgully weather that keeps attackers at bay -- To climb the treacherously steep mountains is one thing, to do so in the midst of floods, thunder, lightning, hail, and fierce winds is another. Even so, House Cragmore has a third barricade in House Suttbray, their longtime allies. Just as Cragmore guards Suttbray from northern invasion from the mountains, Suttbray guards Cragmore from southern invasions from the sea.

Hardy
Just as their name states, the Cragmores can do nothing else if not withstand. They pay little mind to the inhospitable weather that surrounds them, and are able to make the trek up their Stormgully mountains swiftly. While not exceptionally strong or well-trained, they have perseverance and tenacity that few know. There are no accounts of a Cragmore succumbing to torture, very few are ever ill, and their ancestral war-stories usually involve fighting for days on end.

Weaknesses

Poor Reputation
House Cragmore is more commonly known as "The Once-Great House Cragmore", due to the careless ruling of Kenten Cragmore. Many now see Stormgully as a haven for bandits, smugglers, and raiders, while seeing Cragmore as a fallen house ruled by a kinslaying bastard with little claim to the throne. If it wasn't for their extensive trade routes, it is likely that House Cragmore would've been excommunicated for Kenten's numerous actions.

Reliance on Trade
Stormgully, while having ample mines for metals and gems, has very little farmland. Almost all foods native to Stormgully are sparse root vegetables and meat, so they receive almost all food from Suttbray, and some from Paragon and Whitemane.

Tales Of A Gilded Throne

Question.
In the way that a bastard from The North is a Snow, a bastard from Dorne is a Sand, etc. do we have bastard naming conventions?

Tales Of A Gilded Throne

I'd also like a population estimate, albeit with a slight reduction in numbers for plot reasons.
Anyway, here's a preview for the house I'm making. If anyone wants a sigil in this style, PM me and I'll try my best.

Tales Of A Gilded Throne

I, too, plan on some marriage pacts. More to come after my NS.