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[Shootandrun]

The Prince turned around to see who was talking to him. He smelled the alcohol in the man's breath before recognizing him, and he remembered the voice. He frowned, and there was a hint of distaste in his voice when he spoke.

"Comte Theor Blackshield. How good to see you. Is there anything you wished to talk to me about? I noticed the fact that you were already drunk before the ceremony - I suppose the crowning of my brother caused so much joy to you that it was necessary for you to drown your happiness."

[Dragor23]

The Blackshield clenched his fist for a second, bot relaxed shortly after. He nods and gave Richard a sarcastic grin "Why yes. Our families were always friends, especially in the War of the Hounds." He bowed his head for a second, but straightened and looked at Richard with some sort of boldness "I just want to continue the friendship between our dynasties. Also I want to ask you what do you think about our new king...Your older brother."

[Shootandrun]

"Funny. If another man who did not know your honorable reputation had heard what you just said, he might have thought you were suggesting high treason, and on the king's first day on the throne to make matters worse. Of course, I know that you are an honorable man with no reason to dislike me or my family, and not a simple vulture trying to gain power by creating a separation between me and the king. Such an action would be most unwise, considering the fact that me and my brother are close friends, and that we will hopefully remain that way."

Richard smiled, but there was no humor left in him; it was a warning and a threat, at the same time.

"Well, enough crazy talk for one day, hmm? I am certain that you have other important matters to attend to, Lord Blackshield. Personally, I was going to enjoy a good dinner with my friends, which means I'd appreciate if you were not there to ruin the ambiance - no offense intended, of course."

And he waved his hand, dismissing the other lord, then returned to his seat, near the king.

[Dragor23]

Theor chuckled a little bit. Always a stick in his ass... A shame though, he really wanted to know what Richard thought about the coronation. Sure, he was like a dog for his brother, but didn't he have an own opinion? Whatever. That conversation was short and... informative. He considered Richard now as a threat.  Funny, his own brother did seem to be rather nice to the southern noble... Which was in many ways confusing, when he's thinking about that matter now.  What a day, what a day.

He withdrew from the feast for a short while to catch some fresh air.

[micelus]

The coronation of a new king was always something of importance; enthroning a monarch with different perceptions and allowing a brief if useful window of opportunity. In this case, Osir found that his jailors had been too busy with the festivities to care much for that 'never-quite-troublesome prisoner'. Acting without thought, Osir had walked out of the palace, strutted his way down the streets, and just about made it to the northern gate, only to find it filled to the brim with guards!

Well...not like I was serious about this anyway...But I have free reign of the city until they discover I'm gone at least.

And so Osir spent the whole of the coronation day in various taverns, markets, clubs and even a local philosopher's apartments, taking part in actions that he'd never dare do with the guard around.

When he finally sneaked back to the palace, he discovered the coronation over and the newly crowned king confined to his throne room, with his courtiers. While he first thought of snubbing the king by heading back to his 'cell', he knew quite well that was utterly foolish, especially with the queen mother still lurking around. And so, Osir subtly entered the throne room via one of the servant entrances-useful things.

As he entered, he heard the king blabbering about the Blue Knight, to which several nobles raised their glasses. He joined them; might as well.

Osir spent some time chatting with some of the nobility, mostly the bastard-born and the unlanded variety; he didn't have much reputation with the ducs and comtes. Occasionally, he looked over to the king and his entourage; the blue knight, his wise brother, that friend of his...the king had quite a bit of support. Unlikely that he could ever be toppled in these conditions, and Osir was not apt to try.

Have to make something of this somehow.

Then he heard of how the king had talked with Rasgar about some naval matters and defending against the Haegar. He had been given some sort of command, it seems. Unlikely that one could ever stop the Haegar from raiding, but these Adranics do sure like trying, Osir thought to himself.

And Osir mused that the best way to defeat a Haegar was with another Haegar. Rasgar knew how to command ships...but he didn't know how a Haegar thought and acted. Osir on the other hand knew their tricks and ploys and what they wanted. He even worshiped their gods when he had time. Yes, I may not have the rank or blood to be trusted, but they cannot deny my knowledge...

On the other hand, alienating Rasgar is not the wisest idea...perhaps a more secondary position would be fitting? Must not appear ambitious...

And so, Osir went up to the duc de Dechire and requested a word.

"My duc? I have heard that the king has rewarded you with a naval command. To be sure, I see no better person for the task, after all you and yoru family have administered Dechire for many a year. I trust in the king and you in your abilities and I don't doubt the kingdom is safer with your help. But may I put this bluntly; the Haegar think differently from" *ahem* "Adranics such as you, my lord. Where they see a village, they see opportunity and a chance for honour. The raid is but a way to prove themselves in the eyes of the gods; to be worthy of being called a warrior. The loot and slaves are just the...acknowledgement of their skills. Of course, that means that quite a few people are going to be dead and much poorer, which is not at all good or satisfactory. Now, being Haegar I know this clearly and I know how  they act. I know how to fight them and keep away the raids...all I need is a chance to prove my worth. I don't believe myself worthy of command myself, but surely I can help you in your task, my duc."

[filiusenox]

At a bar, some days after the coronation:

Rust drummed his fingers on the harsh, rough-shaven wood of the table, drinking the tepid beer through a carefully cut hole in the grimy yet sturdy bandages that covered his face. The only revealed eye, a dark grey in color scanned the bar for familiar faces, hidden behind bangs of golden blonde hair. Which he detested more than warm beer.

Fucking shitty beer.

But regardless of this, he continued to drink, pausing the bite the edge of the polished cup, before taking another sip. Any anger he felt wasn't really directed at the drink, luxuries like beer were scarce when in the camp. No, it was the fact that his men had mutinied, and killed his body double, leaving him with nothing but the clothes on his back, the treasure in a chest and his loyal knight. The last knight. Who still hasn't shown up.
Those thoughts are what pissed him off.

He took another gulp, draining the glass after a moments thought, raising a hand and ordering some hard whiskey.

[King_of_the_weasels]

Cyril turned towards the Prince as he took his seat nearby. "I heard you bagged a deer on your way from Highcastle.  My only question is which of your men spotted it, which one fired, and which one butchered the beast?"

[Shootandrun]

Richard was, by that point, in a good mood, having pushed the Blackshield to a corner of his mind. Usually he avoided drinking on any official occasion, because he wanted his mind clear at all times, but this time he drank freely. Well, nearly freely. He did not want to go drunk, but he desired to improve his mood. He smiled when he was asked the question by a nearby lord.

"I did all three, and it was my finest kill this month. An arrow clean through the eye. Who are you, my lord, and why the question?"

[King_of_the_weasels]

"Are you sure the arrow didn't pierce your eyes friend?  Tis I Cyril "The Bastard"... Rotwalden! Keeper of War's End, Killers of Stags and other animals, etcetera, etcetera.  I'm.. kinda a big deal, in certain circles."  Cyril took a gulp from his mug, winking at the younger noble. "I'm so proud that you've finally been able to take down a lightfoot field deer, one of the, if not the most dangerous of all game."

[knightedskull]

At that point Zeddrous had put down the chicken leg and wiped his mouth.
He had heard what Theor said to the prince and was relieved with the prince's response.   
If he swore fealty to King Albert then by this world he was also gonna serve his kin as well.
The name "blackshield" rung a few bells but Zeddrous would have to learn more.   A downfall trait of his is being bad with names...that could offend someone easily.
When Theor left the Prince's side, Zeddrous wanted to greet the prince when someone else decided to chat with him.   And the king too.
He'd have to wait his turn.

Curiosity finally got the better of Zedd and he decided he'd introduce himself to this "blackshield"
Damn thy memory! It makes everything so awkward and unsettling.

Zeddrous leaves his seat and the feast to greet with Theor outside.

"Greetings, Theor 'Blackshield', is it?   I am Zeddrous Litchenmire though  I highly doubt you've heard of me or my family.   I wanted to know your thoughts about the new royalty.    I also overheard that yours and the majesty's family have been in good terms. Is this so?"
-Zeddrous greeted with a hand stretched out and a smile.

[Shootandrun]

"And I suppose you're going to tell me you have killed more dangerous game than I have? Is that it, Cyril? I have killed many bears and wolves and boars, Killer of Stags! What's the most dangerous game you ever went after?"

He said, half joking and half serious.

[Dwarmin]

"I hope I'm not burdening you with this too much, Your Grace, I'm merely anxious to serve my lord well."

King Albert took a deep drink of his ale, but reminded himself to slow down. No good to have the King bumbling around on his coronation day...

"The honeymoon doesn't last forever, I know. They'll all be shouting down the roof around my ears in a week or so, I warrant, about one fool thing or another.That's the Kings duty, after all.

I'm sort of looking forward to it. A nice change of pace...

As for my plans-if anyone asks-we will be meeting tomorrow. I'll want reports-army, navy, economy-all of it. From them to me, no middling men. I've already indicated who I'll want the naval report from. My brother, likewise, can provide insight into the state of our army. I suppose you can handle the gold numbers. I'll want it all. It's time for change...and risk. I'll want to know the stakes before I throw the dice.

Since the dice will overthrow me if I toss them too hard, but that's beside the point.

As for tonight, enjoy yourself, Edgard. This is my last night as a free man-and, to be honest, it's your last as well."

The King said, smiling calmly. His attention was immediately taken by another pair of courtiers-a relatively unknown Duc and his young daughter, perhaps being overbold in petitioning the King-and not so overtly bringing up the topic if marriage-so quickly.

...

The King talked much-and listened even more-and he rather was enjoying himself. Later in the night, though, he seemed to gravitate away from the courtiers, and to his handmaiden and mistress, Ria Alareon. Almost invisible to those in power, Albert is hardly ever far from her by choice. Were he anything less than a King-and she anything more than a mistress-they might have been married. Everyone knows such a thing can never happen.

The party goes a bit quiet, and the King seems to be distracted by something. That's when he notices the musician-quite possibly drunk-is playing horribly, eliciting some nervous laughter from the crowd.

The King is usually in a good mood, but this irks him for some reason. He orders his Guards to eject the man from the castle.

"Pity. I rather liked him...but one shouldn't get drunk on the job. Remove him, and make sure he finds an Inn for the night. And, I will not be recommending him for a repeat performance."

In the somewhat awkward silence that follows, the King speaks quietly to his mistress. They seem to be reminiscing, and she seems to be imploring him to do something...The King stands up, his hands lingering on her shoulders, before walking toward the stage-a slightly silly smile on his face. Ria finds a spot underneath the small stage, looking up at him-with a smile all her own.

"Well...my dear, I recall that event somewhat differently. And, I can still play Le Guitarra as well as I could back then. Quite undiminished, as with most of my skills..." He comments idly, taking a seat.

The King's fingers drum over the guitar experimentally-muscles and memory recalling the patterns he used to know well.

In a moment, he breaks out into a rapid fire song, fingers strumming at amazing speed-it starts out vaguely Altanic, rapid and energetic...then shifts mood in a heartbeat, slower, richer and a little bit sad-which is to say, more like Windheath. One wonders where he found time to practice.

For the moment, King Albert is unconcerned with anything but the serenade.

[King_of_the_weasels]

"I've killed all those and then some, but I've landed something you haven't,  A wife!" Cyril laughed lightly at his terrible joke. "But I kid my friend, it's been far too long since we've hunted, you must come up to War's End when you've the time."

[Shootandrun]

"I'll try to go to War's End before the Year turns, if I have the time! There will be doubtlessly be more preys in your northern forests than in my eastern plains, and when I come we might do a little competition, uh? But enough of that for now. My brother is King, which makes me Prince, which is reason enough to celebrate. Slave, another drink!"

With that, he continued to drink and joke with other old friends. Today was a good day.

[Dragor23]

Theor wanted to spend time for him alone, but a minor noble made that impossible. However, he took the hand and shook her with iron grip. "Yes. Blackshield is my house. I never heard about your family, Zeddrous." Which mostly mean, that he was only a hedgeknight. Or even a commoner. "Ah yes, the royal family had always good terms with my family." he continued, a bitter tone in his voice "My house got slaugthered by Arvin Conricht. By a move out of pity... or mockery, he let us live, stripped by members and land." An angry champ came from him but he calmed down to say his last words "Our new king... is promising."