Lady Tysha's Feast

Vealdis hears the sound of a chair being shoved and turns his head into the direction of the sound. His eyebrows rised and a little smile appeared on his face when he saw Quires.

"Ahhh...a new guest, what a delight."

Veadlis give a small bow of the head to Tusha and walks over to Quires, shoves the seat next to him backwards and sits down.

"Vealdis Hullcleaver of Windholm my friend, merchant, treasurer, capitain of the ship called Windbreaker and since a few weeks a Count in these parts, a pleasure to meet you."

Vealdis finnishes his mead and puts the goblet on the table.

Quirus turned to look at the man who approached him. His single eye scanned the man's appearance to be used at later date. He wasn't particularly happy about being approache in such a brash manner, but decidded to play along, giving his answer in a gruff voice.

"Quirus Corax, Count of Ravenfort, likewise. Care to tell, what brought you here to the Steppes?

Vincent sat down and while he collected some some food on his plate he told his story to Valdir.

"Well, let's begin at the start, shall we? I am the son of Farmer from the old Fierdsvain lands. I learned the hardships of life during my first 15 years until on a lucky day I got accepted into the Church, first because they thought I was someone chosen by Astrea to do something special. Then later they came to notice that indeed I was able to do something special."

Vincent took a small sip from his wine.

"I have to add, I am not a priest and therefore I can be seen and do stuff that wouldn't be able for a Priest or a Bishop. I slowly climbed the ladder. And honestly I really don't know why I was sent here, either they feared the power I gathered and therefore sent me here into the war-torn part of Pendor, or they really wanted to reward me for my service.
It does not matter to me, I am here to take my chance and try to get even the smallest mark of myself carved into the history books of Pendor."

He leaned back for a second and looked up at the ceiling of the Tent.

"Isn't that what we all want, that our name is still known in 200 years time. Only some of us want it muttered in fear and some in amazement. I consider myself to be of the latter kind."

Vincent didn't say anything more after that, he only looked a Valdir shortly and smiled, he then grabbed some bread, dipped it into the sauce and ate it slowly.

Tysha simply watched the newcomer and the merchant captain for a moment. The merchant seemed to prove himself troublesome. He'd asked about the political situation, but what new lord wouldn't have known? He was surely being coy. And now he'd usurped her position and greeted the newest lord. Surely this merchant would be a threat if not won over swiftly.

She realized that she must look quite foolish gazing off into nowhere while looking at the two, and walked closer, letting her golden cloak sway with the force of her movement.

"Welcome to the feast, my lord. My name is Tysha Abaddon, lady of these lands. I trust you found your private tent satisfactory, as humble as it may be?"

Vealdis grins and replies

"Unlike many here who claimed or bought land in this corner of Pendor after the whole Noble affair, I earned the title a long time ago when our good king Mordred was still called a usurper by many. I and my brother banded the richest merchant prince of the West together and aided Mordred in the siege of Javiksholm and kicked Valdis right across the sea to who ever knows where!"

Vealdis face shines and a drop of sweat rolls over his chin after saying the last few words.

"Could have taken my title and land right there and than...but I waited...luckily I waited...the Noble wars will soon be over and the Eastern plains will rise in wealth and power. With the strength of our backs it will turn golden."

Vealdis almost screams out the last sentence, another sweat drop rolls over his chin.

"And how about you, soldier man? Fought for your place in this world?"

A tiny smile crept on Quirus' lips as he listened to the man's tale. Perhaps this wasn't such a waste after all. Hard-working lords were a rarity, one that the realm needed.

Worked for your title, eh? It is good to know there are still people who work for their place in the World. I inherited my title, but fought for survival instead."

At that point, Quirus motions to the scars and burn-marks that covered his entire head.

The craftsman return to the feast, carrying a small oak chest with him. The chest itself was relatively plain, the wood being strengthened with iron supports, but inside held the ebony sculpture he worked tirelessly on before. It rested softly on velvet silk, at home within its comforting domain. If one were just to observe the exterior, one would probably not guess the treasures that laid within.

Of course, as if not the spoil the surprise, the chest was locked. Simon had the key hidden in one of his small pouches. A simple key to a simple chest, it was forged out of bronze, but the bow of the key was again made into the likeness of a lion, with two small ruby gemstones to act as the eyes.

Simon Lane went back to his seat at the corner of the semi-circular table and rested the small chest on top of it. He would wait until either the hostess was ready to acknowledge his presence or when the feast was over to present it to Lady Tysha.

Vealdis keeps his head down as lady Tysha approaches.

"It seems that I'm stealing your guests, my lady...he is all yours.''

Vealdis walks away but stops right before Quirus, and whisspers something near his face.

''You have survived and are standing in our midst, you have worked for your title, one way or the other."

Vealdis then walks over to the food and begins to stuff small pieces of fish inside his mouth. Carolan, Vealdis his squire, is being whispered something in his ear. He walks over to Count Vealdis.

''Milord...Adskhan has left the grounds on his horse and commanded Rickor to guard the tent.''

A chunk of fish falls out of Vealdis mouth, his eyes turn big.

''THAT NO-GOOD SINGALIAN HORSE SCUM!''

Vealdis marches out of the room, anger is seen on his face.

Carolan standing at the food table, speechless turns over to Lady Tysha.

''My..milady...we have a...slight problem with one of Lord Vealdis his soldi-...retainers... please excuse us.''

Carolan rushes out of the tent, trying to cath up with Vealdis.

Valdir listened to Vincent's story with semi-interest. He had accidently bitten on a bone fragment that he carefully removed from his mouth.

"I would've been content with a simple life, to be honest. If only my half-brother hadn't convinced me to leave my sweet-voiced mother behind in Mobray."

Valdir sighed, knowing now that the clearly ambitious young man in front of him couldn't be a true friend of his after all.

Vincent finished some of his bread and meat, and drank some more. Now that he had something in his stomach he was able to survive the evening without making a fool of himself.

"Why didn't you bring your mother with you to the steppes? As soon as everything is build it should be comfortable, and if you are lucky you are able to enjoy the mild climate near Laria or Marleons. I left my parents as well but I still have some friends in the Church near our village, they are taking care of them and informing me if anything goes awry. You can leave someone in two ways, one is to just move away but your heart stays at home, the other is to break all former bonds and start a new life."

Vincent smiled again at Valdir.

"I always say, you can't build yourself a Future without knowing your past. Those nobles are not like us, they only know their easy and safe lives, they will never be the ones that rise high. Only the ones who experienced true hardship can truly value money and power. But it does not matter how much money or power you have, the most important thing is your family.
I have a wife and 3 kids, they are at home right now. What about you."

Valdir's face grew less jolly while he listened to Vincent.

"I'm one of the bastard son of an Archdeacon, faith has taught me nothing. After I left to fight in the wars, my mother met tragedy when she encountered a pack of wolves during one of her hunts."

he paused for a moment, taking a rich sip from the wine.

"If only I had stayed, then she may have lived. But instead I joined my mad half-brother and his band of mercenaries who hated nobility, and yet desired to be one of them. We live in a desperate world, and bastards have no place in it."

He stared to his cup for a moment, wondering perhaps why he told this man so much of his beliefs and guilt. It was only when he snapped out of it, that he realised another had joined their table, albeit somewhat secluded. He was heavily scarred and neither drank nor ate, he had raised Valdir's interest.

"Kind Sir, why won't you eat?"

A rider sweeps into the small makeshift feast ground, his steed kicking up a cloud of dust as it slows from a full gallop. Both horse and rider wear the black and gold of the Griffon, and the sigil is clearly embroidered on his tabard, and on the barding. At his side hangs a bag full of bundles in wooden cases.

He jumps down, and with a hasty bow to the host enquires,

"Lady Tysha I presume? A letter here from the Knight-Commander" with that he uncorks one of his cases, and passes over a wrapped scroll bearing the King's seal. His duty done, he rushes back to his mount, skilfully leaps on, turns it and dashes away once again, kicking up more dust as he goes.

Right after Vaeldir had whispered his last words to Quirus' ear and left abruptly, the lord turned to look at the assortment of provisions laid in front of him. Due to the host not having started anything yet, he tried to look for fruits, but had his efforts cut short by another lord.

Again, Quirus took in the details of the stranger with his remaining eye. Around three seconds after the question, he answered as politely as he could.

"I have been rather preoccupied with a conversation with a man called Vaeldis. Sufficient to say, I have no intent to dishonour the servants of Lady Abaddon from this point on."

Quirus rubs his scarred chin, and adds as an afterthought.

"By chance have you noticed any fruits or berries on the table?"

Valdir looked at the assortment of food, scanning the table looking for some kind of fruit, and he found it suspiciously close by.

"I have some apples right here,"

He had been suprised at the mention of dishonouring the hostess if he didn't eat anything. Was that another one of the noble rules, did he forget more in his short exchange with her?

While he didn't show it, Quirus was quite pleased to hear that. You didn't get much chances to eat fruits in the Northern Frontiers and this was a good chance to have some. Not to mention the fact that they were excellent appetizers.

"Ah, care to pass some here?"

Valdir smiled, as he took the plate of apples and stood up.

"Excuse me for a moment, Count Margrove"

As he approached the still unknown noble, Valdir noticed the walking stick resting beside him. Trying to ignore it, he put the plate of apples in front of him and said,

"My name is Valdir, I have recently acquired a county not far from here."

Tysha smiled and offered a polite curtsey to the messenger in response. Her eyes could not hide the contempt she felt for the sigil of her House's ancient rival. She inspected the seal for a moment and excused herself to the back of the tent, where two men in black plate armor enameled with the Abaddon lion joined her. She broke the seal and inspected the letter.

"Perhaps the King should have received an invitation. Show this to His Grace."

One of the knights bowed and accepted the letter, and promptly left the tent.

Tysha watched him leave, her eyes showed that her mind was spinning, to anyone observant enough to pay attention. She looked around the rather large tent, which was remarkably cool for the high time of day. Finally she settled on a man she'd not greeted, the one who had been feasting from the moment he entered. She was interrupted mid-way to Lord Lane by a servant mumbling to her.

"Then fetch some. And serve it with ice."

The servant departed and returned a few moments later with a tray of fruits chilled by crushed ice. Meanwhile, Tysha approached Lord Lane.

"I don't believe we've met, my lord."

Vealdis almosts get run over by the rider when he marches through the camp but he sidesteps just in time. He still gets a cloud of dust in his face but he is too angry to be bothered by it. He stops when he arrives at his tent where Rickor is standing watch.

''Where is that lousy no good scumbag?''

Rickor keeps his head lowered.

''I would not know Sir.' 'Rickor replied.

''Why did he rushed of into the wilderness after dusk?'' Vealdis then asks

''I would not know Sir." Rickor replied.

Vealdis walks into his tent, when he is in he shouts back to Rickor.

''Can you say anything usefull?''

''I would not-...no Milord, Adskhan left on his horse and said that I needed to guard the tent.''

Vealdis, as angry as he is, searches for his footlocker and sees that it has been untouched. Relief could be seen on his face when he stepped outside again.

''I'm afraid that you will need to take over his guard, son.'' Vealdis said in a more gentle voice. ''Adskhan will hear about this.''

Rickor bowed and Carolan catches up with his lord.

''Sir Vealdis, a Griffon rider has dropped of a letter for Lady Tysha.'' the squire said on his last breath before almost collapsing to the ground.

''Rickor, let one of the servants take care of him, running in his conditoin with his armour on was a bit too much for a friend from Barclay...I will need to attend the feast again.'' Vealdis said when he walked back to the main tent, leaving the two retainers.

Simon Lane looked up from his position at the table to find the source of the greeting. It was none other than Lady Tysha Abaddon herself, the hostess of the magnificent feast. The Count rose from his seat to respectfully bow to her before responding.

"Indeed. My name is Simon Lane, a warrior from the northlands. A pleasure to meet you, milady."

The lord paused for a moment, collecting his thoughts before continuing, "Under normal circumstances I would not be out here. If you have heard anything about the House of Lane, you may know of our relatively isolationist nature. At behest of my council, I was directed here to mingle among the new lords and ladies to these lands.

Simon Lane leaned in a bit closer, his demeanor turning dark when he immediately changed the topic. He spoke in whispers, but the content within served more as a warning than a threat.

"We both know what is likely to happen out here. My family has been situated in Eastern Pendor for generations, and I know these plots and ploys nobles normally play with. If you and these guests decide to start playing, leave me and my people out of it. Once my goal is reached, maybe then I'll have my boys offered out as mercenaries, but until then the House of Lane shall remain neutral."

Simon's dark expression vanished as quickly as it appeared, stepping back to give the lady some room. His demeanor then became somewhat joyous, as if rewarding children with toys during the season of winter.

"Now that is settled, let us move on. You may be wondering why I have this wooden chest with me." Simon patted the object in question on the table before continuing, "The House of Lane is an isolationist house, but a generous one. We cannot simply accept hospitality from others without having something to offer in return."

The Count then withdrew the bronze key from one of his pouches, presenting it to Lady Tysha to receive.

"If you desire it, please take the key and open the chest. I hope the gift within will be considered satisfactory."

Tysha accepted the key eagerly. Containing fear was an easy enough feat, but excitement over a gift? That was another matter entirely. Still, she kept her reserved demeanor for a few moments longer.

"A gift, my lord? You must know that Abaddon hospitality comes freely, save where crowns are concerned."

As she leaned in to place the key in the lock, and spoke in the faintest of whispers as she turned it.

"But of course, my lord."

Finally, after an eternity of moving slowly, she pushed the chest open.

Quirus looked at the plate of apples in front of him. These specimens were still fresh and rather good-sized. They were more than sufficient.

"Ah, thank you, sir."

Quirus looked at the man called Valdir.

"Acquired you say? I hope you don't mind if I inquire the tale behind your arrival to the Steppes?"

"It was bought with gold from my mercenary days,"

Valdir smiled faintly,

"And you? Who are you?"

Tysha smiled, and barely contained the expression to lady-like intensity, as she lifted the ebony sculpture out of the box. It was of a lion standing on rock, with her own sigil as a standard.

"A most impressive gift, my lord. I thank you a thousand times over!"

She handed the impressive sculpture over to a servant and curtseyed again to Simon Lane.

"I trust our houses will enjoy friendship and peace, my lord," she said as taking a few steps back. She found a place towards the middle of the tent to await another lord to speak with.

Vealdis entered the main tent again, Carolan was waiting outside of it.
When he looked around the tent Vealdis saw an impressive ebony lion standing on a rock in one of the servant's hands.

''A most impressive piece of work there, ebony isn't it?" he said when standing near lady Tysha. ''Did that rider brought bad news for us all? Or are you always getting messangers on this hour bearing the royal colours?''

Vealdis looks into the woman's eyes and sees something peculiar, even though he can't put his finger on it.

''Is something off, lady Tysha Abaddon?''