Guy looks around at the gathering townsfolk. Such a dreary place, that children are forced to steal for their bread. Out loud, he says "Good evening good peoples. Where might we find a place of rest here in this town?"
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Guy surveys each landmark as they pass, becoming more bothered by the moment. "This place chills me, somehow. As though heaven had shut one eye to this city, and let some wickedness creep in. God save us from evil." Guy crosses himself, muttering another prayer under his breath.
Guy nods with Malhasturian's statement. "Aye, and the sooner we find a town, the sooner I can find a good drink to help wash this feeling of filth from my soul. God protect me and my drink."
"What is this? More treacherous witchery? Or has the drowning of the hag lifted this mist?"
Looking at the boar hole and then out the cove, Guy says "I don't know about any of you friends, but I think I'll trust my balance in the slick rocks more than I'd like to test climbing out a boar hole. See you outside!" With that, Guy begins making his way from the cove.
Already had Guy at second level since you told us, I just forgot to tell you! I took average.
Guy shouts in pain, quickly attempting to wipe his hands on the nearest grass or fur. "This is unnatural! What water burns like fire to the touch?"
Guy does his best to pull the cauldron from the fire, shaking his burning hands about after he is done. "I think they could have been somewhat nicer about this whole thing, but then again they are servants of the devil."
"I will take the rearguard. Though my eyes are not the keenest, I shall do my best to protect Drest and Kirsteen from danger."
"I think we've yet to find the truth of this matter. I believe we should press further."
Diving to the side as the boar charges Drest, Guy barely has time to arise and draw his rapier before it seems defeated already. "I dare say that we have the upper hand already. Mal, care to remove this beast from our midst?"
The night passes normally for Guy, a welcome respite from the past few weeks. The morning greets him as it does any other day, however, and his mood is quickly turning dour as the group heads into the forest. Though the mist remains away for now, he can't help but feel apprehensive. The sudden noise of a pig brings the response, "A pig? Who lives out here? I had thought these woods were claimed empty."
"Drest speaks truth. We must accomplish both tasks, though it is obvious from the letter that the King, or whoever sent this to us, is desperate to have help against the Norsemen. I think now I find the thought of a new Norse army all to believable. I think for now I'll be asking some questions of the hired help. They have eyes and ears everywhere." The first place Guy heads is the kitchens. From his experience, the kitchen is a central location for gossip amongst servants.
"I side with Mal on this matter. Why would the king send us here, only to then route us to France? It seems strange. More importantly, is there not a member of his own court he could send? Surely even the backstabbers surrounding him would be ill-advised to let Vikings conquer Scotland."
"I say, who rides so swiftly here?" Guy barely has time to dodge out of the way, but hurriedly remounts as the rider notes the encroaching mists. Once safe within the castle walls he says, "I thank you for the warning, rider. As for your king's investigators, you see them before you! Our skill at arm is well complemented by our faith in God. I forsee little danger for us within these walls. I worry far more about the dangers lying without." Guy strikes what could be considered a jaunty pose.
Guy stretches hugely in the saddle. "It has been quite a long time since I had rode this much in one sitting! These bones need some exercise on their own feet. Who shall depart our quadrupedal transport with me for more bipedal actions?"
"Aye, a drink to pave our road. Let us be off henceforth."
"Aye, Alain has the right of it. Let our swords be together against the enemies that already surround us, instead of pointing them at each other." Removing a glove and putting forth his sword hand, Guy asks "Who shall place their faith in their companions with me? Let God guide us to strike at the evil which infests this land."
"Your Majesty is most gracious," Guy says while bowing. "It shall be my honor to undo the evils that enshroud your fair land."
Bowing with great civility, Guy says, "Your Majesty, I am Guy de Lancre, formerly of the Duchy of Brittany. I have come to the land of the Scots to lend any aid that I can. Should my services please Your Majesty, I would ask in time that my service be rewarded with help to retake my ancestral lands in Brittany from the Duke of Rennes."
Guy hangs toward the back of the group. Though he certainly possesses a silver tongue, his skills were mostly in spinning tales, rather than carefully sorting out the truth. Risking the disfavor of the king this early on was a rather bad choice. It's not like I really have anything to contribute anyway. I was asleep for the whole event. Who trusts the word of a man who wasn't even there?
Guy awakens suddenly at the barking of a dog. Sleepily grabbing his rapier, he moves into the hall to see the aftermath of the fight that had taken place. Leaning against the wall, he rests his rapier by his side. "Well, this is not the kind of night that I expected to have. Will we be getting anymore sleep, or shall I simply don my leathers once more?"
Hmmm, so following this history lesson, Alain is technically not my fellow countryman (yet)?
Guy peers at the castle, rather less impressed than he might have been. This place is more run down than I had thought. To hear the Scots tell it, this place is paradise. Out loud, he approaches the guards, his hand well clear of his rapier. "Good sirs, I am Guy du Lancre, out of Brittany. I seek an audience with his majesty that I might offer my services to him as he sets his kingdom aright after mad MacBeth's reign."
Guy eats as heartily as he is able in the conditions he finds himself. Recent weeks have taught him the value of a meal, no matter its quality. He keeps to himself as the meal goes on, eying each of those present as he eats. The Scotsman is a sword of the clans, plain and simple. As for my fellow countryman, given his raiment I surmise he is of similar rank to me. This girl is somewhat more a mystery, but nowhere near this tattooed man. He is certainly an...oddity. I wonder why he bears such marks? As for this Razo, he obviously serves the church. I have no qualm with him then. I believe, as fervently as any man. As night comes on, Guy uses his cloak as a pillow, keeping his rapier near him. Slumber comes swiftly for the tired nobleman, his dreams just as quick... Fire burns everywhere. The villa is an inferno, the very image of hell come to earth. Guy runs through the halls, but the only thing he finds is more flame. He can hear the Duke's men behind him, closing in with all the inevitable power of death. Their voices are twisted, mixing with the clank of their armor. They sound as demons, rasping voices bursting from fire and stone. Try as he might Guy cannot find an open door. As they close in upon him, he feels the chill hands of death upon him. He starts to scream, but a hand, a real one, clamps down on his mouth. Before he knows what is happening, he is thrown from a window. He plummets, falling into the roaring river near his home. Darkness sweeps over him, and all is silent. Anyone staying awake hears muffled yelps and heavy breaths from Guy, but little more.
Guy hastened his pace as night fell and the fog began to roll in. Though he would never admit it to anyone else, the thought of being a witch's captive frightened him rather much. He preferred to face opponents with blades. At least then you could see what skills they wielded in the open, rather than guessing about spellcraft. Sighting the monastery on the road ahead, the lithe young man breaks into a run, only slowing as he finds the door already ajar. Cautiously, he peeks his head in. Though he is ready to retreat should he find no welcome, he is gladdened to see other travelers already making themselves at home within the house of God. Moving inside, Guy shuts the door, crossing himself as he passes the threshold. "God's grace be with us, but I thought I might not make it out there. This fog is all together too eerie, I must say." Dragging himself to a seat Guy slides his cloak hood back from his head, revealing similar features to the already present Frenchman. Sighting his countryman, Guy gives a quick wave before he sets about tending to his hunger. Those who peer closer at the young man will note that though his cloak is somewhat rough, the clothes hiding underneath are fine. A finely sewn white silk shirt, ruffled at the neck, is covered by a masterfully made leather vest bearing the colors and insignia of Brittany. Black breeches and boots complement the outfit, the same well made leathers strapped to his legs and feet. Duelist's gloves cover his hands, and a rapier bearing the mark of Lancre rests at his hip.
Working putting the actual backstory together. Here's the crunch for now. |