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Post by TheSilentRevenant on Aug 2, 2017 14:43:03 GMT -8
Sebastian steps forward into the office. "I'm here to receive my newly renewed expeditionary papers." He states looking the man directly. He pulls his hood back a small bit simply to reveal his face out of courtesy for the Heir, not actually revealing his features to the man behind him.
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Post by 🐴Can🗡️ on Aug 2, 2017 22:12:47 GMT -8
=The Heir's Home=
After hearing the word he was waiting for, Ariel entered into the grand room of the heir following the hooded figure in front of him, immediately taking a peek at his surroundings but focusing on the man behind the desk first.
The state of the room, all the research and the antiques literally littered across the whole room... It filled Ariel with awe, and respect for the man who was presumably the heir; and it was clearly apparent on his face in the torchlight.
Ariel, unlike the figure in front of him, hadn't stepped forward toward the heir, but he was still inside the room, if only barely. He performed a courteous bow toward the man behind the study, and after Sebastian had said his piece, he said "I-I shall wait until he's done first." with a nod.
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Post by Bloodtrailkiller on Aug 12, 2017 7:35:49 GMT -8
=The Heir's Home=
/The Heir/
There was a long moment of silence, the Heir's hand reaching out and pushing aside some papers as the Ranger apparent spoke his rather curt piece.
The Silhouette scoffs, its shoulders shirking up and air misting out from unseen lips, as it sighs. A sound that wanders the room like breeze in the gallows, as a hand gestures for Sebastian to step closer; the hand resting back with some lazy weight.
The Heir bows its head to Ariel,
"Thank you... Help yourself to bread, wine... A seat, by my hearth." it offers, motioning to the glowing embers in the stony cage. There were the respective elements he'd described, set about the various cushioned chairs. A bottle, both, on the table and set at the foot of one of the chairs; while bread and the remnants of a spartan feast were set on starkly glimmering platters, whose shine was oily in the dancing flames.
The attention of The Heir shifted to Sebastian again and sighed, again,
"Newly... Renewed..." It repeated with some amusement and mockery, as it slunk to one side of the chair, groom its brow with its thumb and forefinger.
"... For whom?"
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Post by TheSilentRevenant on Aug 12, 2017 16:51:47 GMT -8
Sebastian steps forward closer to the Heir's desk. Remaining silent but he nods respectfully towards the silhouette.
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Post by 🐴Can🗡️ on Aug 13, 2017 6:51:11 GMT -8
=The Heir's Home=
Contrary to Ariel's fear aided by the dark atmosphere of the room, the heir was surprisingly kind, enough to forget about the pressures of being in front of an important figure. Ariel couldn't help but flash a soft smile at this, if only briefly, followed by saying "My thanks!" as he listened to the heir's words and helped himself to a chair, sitting down and resting his legs.
Ariel had decided that he wasn't actually going to touch any of these, but when he looked at the food from the chair, he suddenly started feeling a little peckish, and so he tore off and nibbled on a piece of bread or two, not breaking his courtly manner while doing so. He would listen to and watch the interaction between the hooded person and the heir, more out of idleness than out of genuine interest.
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Post by Bloodtrailkiller on Aug 15, 2017 15:21:06 GMT -8
/The Heir/
Silence seemed to resonate through the chamber of the Heir's Study as Sebastien stepped forward; glittering rings splayed out in a small flourish that was only defined by the Hearthfire's rimlight.
"A name." He asked incredulously, before folding his fingers back, and sighing as he reclined in his chair.
"A title; if you have neither, I cannot give you the papers."
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Post by TheSilentRevenant on Aug 15, 2017 16:13:23 GMT -8
"Sebastian Kurt." He states initially. "Others have called me "The Ranger" as a title." He re-adjusts slightly "I go by either."
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Post by Unter on Aug 19, 2017 10:17:06 GMT -8
=The Blacksmith's Shop=
Francois entered the shop with a loud thud from his leather boots. He turned to Milo.
"Now, choose a weapon among these." He showed a section of weapon that he thought fit for a Squire.
"A quick tip : Choose wisely. You must feel the weight of the blade, you must feel that it is a prolongation of your arm, or the blade will betray you. It is not the knight that makes the blade, but it is the blade that makes the knight."
He then turned to the wall, and laid on it, watching Milo.
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Post by rumsztyk on Aug 19, 2017 11:17:10 GMT -8
=The Blacksmith's Shop=
As Milo pondered on the wisdom of Francois' words, he weighed the various swords in his hand. After careful deliberation - though he had no idea what to look for in a sword - he picked a steel two-handed blade that was about half his height. The boy picked it up without much effort, assessing it's balance.
"It's the one." he said, without much confidence. All the swords were mostly the same to him.
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Post by Unter on Aug 20, 2017 12:07:44 GMT -8
"Are you sure it's the right one ? Alright, buy it and rejoin me outside" While he said that, he gave some coins to Milo, roughly enough for this sword.
"Oh and by the way, I suppose you can't read? I'm going to search something on the Tavern, wait for me outside." He doesn't even wait for Milo's response and go on his way.
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Post by rumsztyk on Aug 20, 2017 16:06:42 GMT -8
"I..." Milo began, but Francois was already gone "...can't"
With the gold at his disposal, Milo purchased the sword from the blacksmith and followed Francois patiently to the Tavern, standing next to the exit and making a few practice swings with the sword.
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Post by 🐴Can🗡️ on Aug 21, 2017 22:30:14 GMT -8
=The Heir's Home=
Ariel would eat some more bread, slowly, before stopping, shaking off the crust on his hands over the plate and resting his arms on his lap. His interest in the conversation increases a little when he hears the word 'ranger'.
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Post by Shinzon on Aug 28, 2017 16:46:53 GMT -8
=Sicherlein's hideout=To the germanic knight, there was something deeply unnerving about this situation; and it was her inability to truly understand how Sicherlein operated. Most people were simple enough to understand; you just had to press some switches here and there, lure them with promises of gold, glory, love, so and so on. People always had a reason to drive them further onward; something that was even truer in such a dark place as the Darkest Estate, where those without purpose would soon be swallowed whole by the land around them.
Sicherlein was slippery. She kept dodging the crimson knight's attempts at evaluating her, something that both irritated and impressed the fiery-haired warrior.
The only thing she knew for certain was that Sicherlein danced on the a thin thread, mocking to those around her.
"What rumors?" she asked with perhaps a bit too much enthusiasm. She crossed her arms over her chest, assuming a much more stern posture. "I knew him for sure; the man was my quarry. I failed to end his folly, and it seems the folks here did it for me - it is still not enough for me, however. I need his trinkets."
Her blood boiled at the mention of her brother. The man who threw her land into a devastating rebellion for petty matters, and left it a ruin. The man who betrayed not only his bloodline, but his half-sister too. She bitterly regretted the fact that the honor of ending him was not hers; and she feared what might be done with his terrible trinkets.
Once more, the blonde tore the knight out of her daydreaming, flashing one of the most remarkable smiles she had the pleasure to see since she arrived in the blasted estate. Stunned for a moment, it took her a moment to gather her bearings, clearing her throat, trying to avoid her embarassment. "This armor belonged to a dear cousin of mine. I took it for myself when he died, and so here I am now. And no, my dear, I did not participate in the crusades. I did go to the so-called "holy land" to remove a troublesome quarry, but I never fought for a pointless cause."
It was a lie, of course. But the other woman would (hopefully) wouldn't be able to tell... would she? |
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Post by Bloodtrailkiller on Sept 6, 2017 7:47:49 GMT -8
"Sebastian Kurt." He states initially. "Others have called me "The Ranger" as a title." He re-adjusts slightly "I go by either." /The Heir/ There was another bumbling grumble from the Heir, as papers were seemingly mindlessly pushed about; seals, broken and fresh; the Darkest' own or from elsewhere, they all sort of melded together in an off amalglamation of words, parchment, and brightly hued wax. Eventually, he procured a piece of paper that he inspected closely; before looking over the top of it to Sebastian Kurt. "Mm... Long while..." There was a roll of the inkish shoulders, as he laid the paper flat and procured an ink and quill. There was no hesitation as he flourished out a signature and fished out a stamping seal he doused in ink, and doubly planted on the paper. He slid the paper over to the opposite side of the table and sighed, waving the man off. "... I hope you have not gotten soft. Is that all?" |
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Post by TheSilentRevenant on Sept 6, 2017 7:55:09 GMT -8
Sebastian's eyes track the shadowy figure's movements and he gives a slight bow and takes the paper from the desk. "I haven't lost my touch yet." He coolly replies. "Thank you and farewell." Pulling up his hood and turning on his heel, he makes his way out of the office and down the stairs. Folding the paper neatly and tucking it into his inner coat pocket as he swiftly but quietly makes his way out of the manor and down to the town square.
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