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[filiusenox]

The man with the golden hair glanced up at the touch, the bandages hiding his expression, but not the confusion in his voice. His steel grey eye takes in the other man, saying nothing much for a bit.

"Eh? We've had-d this table for a while...errr...sir...?" he replied slowly, politely, the false-humility as obvious on his tongue as the slight thickness caused by just a touch too much drink. A meal of bread and some sort of meat lay almost untouched in front of him, the only thing missing from it where the greens and half the bread.

[micelus]

"It's Comte Revechig my good man, of Osport. You've probably never heard of it...Now if you don't know where I can find some muscle, please leave my table. I got issues to work out."

The comte was only half joking of course, he actually did need some mercs to work for him.

[Dwarmin]

"I would also like to graciously thank you for accepting my services when you have need for them.   Just say when and where and I'll be there."

And now he waits for the King's words.

The King is about besotted-on the border of sobriety, and preparing to invade the neighboring land of Drunkenness.

"The offer is appreciated, Saer*. Be at the meeting tomorrow-sober, if you want to keep your head~that was a joke, or was it? I'm feeling foolish tonight. Wine always goes to my hand.

Anyway, we'll see about getting you some land, hmm? Your family has moldered in that patch for far too long." The King said, taking a another half drink. He smacks his lips, visibly concentrating-perhaps going over what he just said.

King Albert addressed those remaining.

"Oy! I declare this feast, hmm...annulled. Abrogated. Reproached.

By which I mean, get out of my dining hall you louts, and go to bed-rooms and linens have been prepared for the lot of you. I'd best not find anyone under my tables come sunrise." He says, with a hearty laugh and a grin.

The Kings Handmaiden helps him to his feet, and they walk off to the royal bedchambers, exchanging goodbyes...

The rumor mill churns. The Guards will say tomorrow, Albert was sober enough tonight to send Ria from his bed-not wanting to risk begetting a child of un-noble blood in line for the throne, most likely-but the effort visibly pained him, and he retired to his room in a depressed, sulking mood.

They speak somewhat lower, that there was heard word and 'other things', from the Kings room afterwards. Not that anyone would admit to having listened at his door.

*Archaic 'Saer' is how one commonly responds to an older man than yourself, especially in a matter of business-but proper titles are supposed to be used between royalty. The King said it here slightly erroneously.

[Dragor23]

"Well, you excuse me..." Theor said "We will talk again Your Highness Arbovent. I go to bed now." So he stood up and moved into his personal quarters. Tommorow was an another day... Without wine and beer and more business-talking.

[filiusenox]

"It's Comte Revechig my good man, of Osport. You've probably never heard of it...Now if you don't know where I can find some muscle, please leave my table. I got issues to work out."

Rust chews at his lower lip, taking a deep drink from his cup before he replies, tone still polite.

"What sort of hired muscle are you in the market for?"

[Dwarmin]

Theor Blackshield, ostensibly upon the Kings request, is lead by the Guards to the Northeastern Tower Apartment-third room from the top, it gives a fine view of the river, and the starlit ocean beyond with larger than average crystal glass windows. If one feels inclined to crank open on the windows (they're quite heavy), you'll get a stiff sea breeze, rich with salt.

The furnishings are better than what he's used to, but perhaps not as good as they could be-not for quality, which is superb, they seem to still need finishing touches. It seems his place was recently renovated and cleaned, and the occasional fluff of escaped sawdust is still seen on the floor from the carpenters continuing work on the bed and dressers-which are both carved with Bird motifs.

The Iron Queen didn't enjoy many visitors, and many of the castles rooms show similar sighs of disuse and rapid attempts to bring them up to snuff.

A fine place to sleep and work from, if you don't mind the Falcon Aerie a bit above you. The occasional sleepy chirp of a River Hawk is heard. To some, comforting. To others, maddening.

[Deep Waters]

Rust's loyal knight had noticed the stranger as soon as he entered, but had only taken note of him when he began to approach their table. She leans back to assess the newcomer, scrutinizing him with dark eyes. After a few moments, she dismisses him as a threat to her and her liege, seeing nothing but a small-time nobleman. 'He seems to have different features from the other citizens of this land.' She thinks idly, then chuckles inwardly, 'Pah! Who am I kidding? All northerners look the same to me.'

The former knightess listens quietly to the ensuing 'conversation', growing more and more contemptuous of the older man and his, in her eyes at least, disrespect as he continues to speak. She was about to speak up and put this northerner in his place- until she hears him mention needing 'some muscle'. Kylila winces, then sighs inwardly. 'We will end up working for this man, I know it. Ah, I do not describe mercenary work as whoring out my sword for nothing.'

She remains silent, allowing Rust to speak for the both of them- simply watching the Comte calmly, a hand resting casually on the hilt of her shamshir.

[Azthor]

A figure calmly approaches the King on the way to the royal bedroom from the shadows, as though it had been there the whole time.

Rakam bows slightly in reverence then resumes his original position. "That was quite the parting speech, dear Albert, although I cannot help but note my etiquette lessons appear to have gone waste... Not that the Queen needs to know, the both of us know you'd never hear the end of it if she caught wind of the feast's proceedings. But who am I to speak about etiquette when I've failed to address my own liege properly? I suppose it is only appropriate that I refer to you as Your Majesty from now onwards; still, I might never get used to it, old men like me are all but painfully slow to adapt".

"Pleasantries aside, I look forward to continue serving Your Majesty to the best of my capacity, as I did before with your mother; you will soon find out there are other sides to me than that of the tutor of your childhood; namely, I've always been responsible for dealing with the more unsavory aspects behind defending the Crown and, should treachery arise within the court, being its eyes and ears. I will also continue to serve as your personal advisor, should you so wish, but I will hold no grudge if you'd rather have someone else at your side; I do, after all, still see you, to some degree, as that young boy who'd be raptured by tales of the heroes of old".

"For now though, know that the Queen wishes to see you in her bedchamber... At least she seems to be in a good mood, good luck, Your Majesty; if you have any questions as to my previous role, she should be  able to answer your questions in far less biased a fashion than this humble servant of yours". Rakam pauses for a moment only to start chuckling softly."You might want to sober up first though, we wouldn't want her discovering her baby child had too much to drink, would we?"

[micelus]

Osir raised an eyebrow to the boy's question but deigned to answer.

"Mercs eh? Well I be needing some men," he had a look at the woman, "or women who could be a helping me in a bit of raiding...a dangerous job, but it could be quite...profitable for certain people."

Osir looked again at the woman. She looked more dangerous than this oney-hair actually. He guessed that she was either protecting the kid, he was stronger than he looked, or either of them was a slave to the other. It didn't really matter.

[Dwarmin]

"You might want to sober up first though, we wouldn't want her discovering her baby child had too much to drink, would we?"

Albert's temper-rarely stoked, but said to be terrible when it comes-seems to simmer and boil as the man addresses him, in so much a condescending manner as he had through the years as tutor, when he was a child. His fists clench at his sides

Ria is on the Kings side, though, and she rubs his arm gently, smiles and whispers something in his ear though-Rakam probably has a good enough hearing to make out something close enough to "The old man is trying to bait you"

The King hears this, and relaxes, giving his mistress a gentle sideways kiss.

"...ah, this was another test, isn't it?" The King replied softly. "I show my graceful and pleasant side in the day, but when I am blindsided at the cross points during the night, I should lose my temper, and act beneath my station?" He inquires.

"i guess I pass this time." Albert replies with a grin. He slaps Rakam on the shoulder somewhat roughly-enjoying the Older mans reaction.

"Thank you for the warning, anyway, Old Man. I have no doubt your...skills, will be very useful to me. As long as your not shopping for a new employer anytime soon, I'd like to retain you."

The King marched off without bothering to hear Rakams retort.

Ah, the good part about being King. Yes, let me be selfish, he thinks-for just this one thing. I don't have to listen to Rakam pontificate anymore.

[knightedskull]

An unsure man stood at the near-empty table.   Was left wondering by the King if he was going to hold that to his honour or his drink.
Either way was good.   Advancement or opening through a loose tongue.   All in all this was a good night for Zeddrous.   Changes would happen and a new life will come along.   For better or worse.

Wait, did he think I was much older than him? Damn the stuff.

As the king is taken away by his hand-maidens, Zeddrous takes a cup from the table.

To the new King!

Zeddrous then gulps down the contents of the drink, quickly, and slams the empty cup on the table.
A disgusted look strewn on his face.
Blaugh! One of the worse, definitely.

After the taste goes away, Zeddrous looks to one of the guards nearby and asks:
"Guard, where might one find a place to sleep?   And do you think the King would mind if I borrowed a..Pretty slave for a night?"

[filiusenox]

"Mercs eh? Well I be needing some men," he had a look at the woman, "or women who could be a helping me in a bit of raiding...a dangerous job, but it could be quite...profitable for certain people."

Rust glances over to Kylila, mouthing the word 'raiding?', he could never remember her preferences on the subject of slavery, so he thought it best to ask, or pretend to ask. Elric had taken slaves before while he tried to keep the small army of bandits that masqueraded as "The Last Real Royal Army" afloat, but he never did like the thought of it, oft having to keep his men from raping and pillaging through strict punishment.

Raiding...dragging innocents from the-...No. Don't think. Just act. Play along until you're king, the send all those souls home.

"So raiding? What'd the pay be and were from? And what'd our part be in it?"

[micelus]

"Pay...well I can promise whatever loot you get as well as 10 <insert small-time currency here> per day if ya be the normal type of mercs...or 1 ducats at the end of every successful raid if you be more...useful."

Osir paused to think.

"If you be the special type, then some sneaking and speaking isn't out of the question."

[filiusenox]

The man bites at his lip, before asking, simply, "Where and what sort of talking?"

His hand comes up to scratch under the grimy bandages, the single revealed eye fixed on the noble, any expression he may have hidden by them

[micelus]

"Oh...just dealing with captains, village elders and whatever person happens to control a band of raiders up on the Haegar coast...To see if we resolve problems with less bloodshed than needed.