|
May 15, 1197, around midnight
Baron John has decided to hold court in the main chamber of Castle York main tower. The room is opulent, filled with tables and well dressed people. Tapestries hung on the walls and servants serve the cainites present with absolute obedience.
Yet the situation is quite different for some of you: for Lachlan and Edward the scene is, if not familiar, at least known. This is not their first dance at court. They know the people here and are aknowledge as members. Here's exquisite Lady Sian Brach, chamberlain and queen of the harpies in the Barony smiles at them approvingly, while there even dour Sheriff Tristan Ashlington, nods his head slightly at their passage.
On the other side of the room,in a corner shunned by noble and servant alike, the situation is quite different: Edouard and Bertand stand along with another vampire so badly mauled his features have not yet reformed after the beating he evidently received. Two other cainites whose bestial mien marks them as Gangrel prowl at a short distance, eyeing them as hawks do with mice. Very few of the other cainites spare a second glance for them, and if they do it only carries scorn and derision.
Aside from the outcast in the corner Court seems like a placid beast: cainite nobles converse with each other while sipping blood from silvered goblets, while finely dressed servants run with adoration and obedience from one cainite lord or the other and ghouls guards silently survey the whole scene.
Then the main door of the hall slams open. Nobles seat themselves at their tables while servants scurry away to their positions at the sides of the room. The Baron and his primogen council have entered the hall. The reason for this night's gathering ready to be unveiled.
The Baron takes is seat in the Throne at the center of the dais, the other cainites taking position on the seats at his right and left.
Baron John is a tall immaculately dressed man, the very image of the Norman lord he was in life, only a small scar marring his visage and remembering everyone of the soldier he was before assuming the august position of Baron of York.
The Vampire seated at his immediate left is even taller than the baron. He wears a carmine armor and has a longsword at his side. He sports a long white beard and a savage mare of hair, while his eyebrows give his stare an hawkish quality.
A woman is seated on the Baron's immediate right. She too is tall and well muscled. With a long thick braid of black hair cascading on her shoulders. She wears a spartan and pratical dress, not unlike those worn by some women among saxon nobility.
Farthest from John, on the right sits another cainite sporting a well trimmed short blond beard. His dress is exquisite and his fingers carry several huge rings adorned with gold and gems.
The final vampire, seated on the left side of the baron, past the bearded one is a shaven man with short black air and wearing a black robe embroidered with silver inlays. He surveys the rest of the Court with what you could only define as supreme confidence.
At his left a chair stands, empty.
As the Baron and his primogens are seated another cainite steps forward, he's young and impeccably dressed, bearing a staff in his hands. He beats it three times on the floor and then declares:"All raise for John, by Grace of the Lord Baron of York and Satrap to his Lordship Mithras of London" as all the cainites in the room stand he beats the staff three times again and pronounces:"Court may now commence. The first supplicant is the esteemed Sheriff of York, His Grace's childe, Tristan Ashlington. You may step forward, lord Ashlington"
Immediately the Sheriff, a lean man with angular features, takes the center of the Hall falls on his knee and after the baron signals for him to raise, adresses him and the primogens:"Sire and Lord, most noble primogens. I asked to be allowed to talk before any other matter was brought to the attention of this august Court as we seem to have a small but persistent situation involving vagabonds and thieves. Just this evening my good man, Harold, surprised one low blooded cainite, a certain Bertand Auton, claiming descent from clan Malkavian, trying to enter our fair city unnoticed. Then we have the matter of the vagabonds we allowed to stay in our shadow for so long, the mongrel Caitiff calling itself Festus and the Ravnos scoundrel, Edward Trebaol. I think it's high time we deal with these pests. My sire, I ask you to allow me the pleasure of ridding York of these lowborn creatures, so that they can trouble the nights of their betters no more".
A murmur roses from the seated vampires as the sheriff finishes his tirade, perplexed but not disapproving.
Then the Baron speaks:[b]"A small matter indeed, my childe, expecially considering the other matters that need to be discussed this night. But I see no reason why I should not indulge this obsession of yours. Very well. Do the accused have anything to say? Does anyone want to talk in their defence? If not I'm ready to pronounce myself on their fate"