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Post by Lord Ainvar Hrothgarsson on Mar 10, 2014 13:35:28 GMT
The early morning Sun washes over the walls of the White Keep, fresh dew coats the grass and newly forming buds on the trees. Spring is reaching her fingers out to claim the land back from Winter. Atop the Keep walls a collection of Gor heads are presented proudly upon iron stakes. Ainvar, Sheriff of the Locks, Chieftain of the Cimbri, First Shield to the High Chieftain of Midgard, slowly trots through the gates, sitting tiredly on his horse. With many losses, thr day was won. The Gor driven from the land, and peace restored... for a time. Exhausted from the killing, and the feasting that followed, Ainvar makes his way from the Grove where he sung the song of the Sun, to his chambers for much needed rest.
Blood and war paint still caked on his face, and in his beard, he nods at the sentries he passes.Reaching the main structure, he dismounts and hands the reins to a stable boy and enters through the heavy oak doors and up the stairs. Upon reaching his chambers, Ainvar stops a servant girl, 'I require a bath, and make it hot this time'. The young woman gave a smile and gave a slight bow, running off to do what she was required. Ainvar entered into his office, walking past his desk and into his personal quarters, shutting the door and removing everything save his pants. Collapsing onto his soft feather bed, he drifted into sleep while awaiting the hot water, images of the grand battle flashing through his mind.
(Edited for typo >.>)
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Post by Lord Ainvar Hrothgarsson on Mar 10, 2014 17:22:39 GMT
After resting, bathing, and filling his stomach, Ainvar sits at his desk sharpening his short sword. He sent his maille to the armoury for repairs, but raised in the warrior class of his tribe, it wasn't proper to let another man sharpen your weapons.
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Post by Adoven Leoros Bloodwynd on Mar 11, 2014 6:22:30 GMT
There came a knock on the portal. "Permission to enter?" came a familiar voice. Standing just outside was the elven ranger Adoven, his garb muddy and in some degree torn, and looking quite tired and disheveled.
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Post by scarecrow on Mar 11, 2014 10:06:44 GMT
"Might I come in as well?" came a calm voice through the hallway towards the regent's chambers. The owner of the voice looked half caked in blood and mud from the knees down, and not much cleaner from the waist up. Feathers bent askew, and exhausted, but overall no worse for wear. the monk leaned against the door frame of the office with a serious look on his blood and mud smeared face, a few small cuts and scrapes criss-crossing his subhuman features.
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Post by Lord Ainvar Hrothgarsson on Mar 11, 2014 12:10:26 GMT
Ainvar casually spit on his whetstone, continuing to sharpen his blade as he glanced towards the door, 'Enter, friends. Though I must say it looks as if the both of you need proper rest and bathing'.
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Post by scarecrow on Mar 11, 2014 22:13:35 GMT
Scarecrow smirked. "Yes, it would appear so wouldn't it?" He strode in and grasped the hand of the sheriff. "I was wondering if I might speak to you of the duel that took place between me and the shaman?" Scarecrow announced looking a little ashamed. "I feel as if I have brought... dishonor to our lands by losing, if only barely." he spoke as he gritted his teeth "The only reason I can say that I am still here now, was because of the swift retaliation of my garrison, and of our people."
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Post by Lord Ainvar Hrothgarsson on Mar 12, 2014 3:53:10 GMT
Ainvar set the whetstone and short sword down upon the desk, 'Why do you feel you've dishonored us?'. He leaned back into his chair, taking his dagger from his belt, looked it over, picked the whetstone back up and began to casually sharpen it.
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Post by scarecrow on Mar 12, 2014 6:04:48 GMT
"That shaman was mine to kill in honor duel. Yet he lay dead at another mans feet after not only had I lost the duel, despite how close it was, but right after....." He sighed, his gaze drifting off into a corner of the room. "I guess the what I'm trying to say is that I boasted that I would be the one to slay this beastman. Not only did I fail in doing that, I was very nearly killed by the damn blighter. If it hadn't been for the excellent timing of that healer, Sivic..." the bird-folk's voice trailed off.
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Post by Lord Ainvar Hrothgarsson on Mar 12, 2014 12:42:00 GMT
Ainvar nodded, 'I was not present during this duel, so I cannot comment on whether you brought shame to our citizens, or this garrison you hold so highly. What matters is your woman is back safely and the Gor have left, for the time being. Though this deal that your Dragon sorcerer cut with them only moved them to rape the lands of Helstrom, I fear they may return, yet hope they do not. Go to your woman, tend to her and see that she is safe, Tengu'.
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Post by Adoven Leoros Bloodwynd on Mar 12, 2014 23:32:23 GMT
"Eh you did fine my feathered friend. All that matters is that we have recovered your wife, and brought tranquility for the land." he said, patting the Tengu on the back. "However my main concern lies with the fact that they were able to easily snatch one of our own. Ainvar, I must ask that we guard the surrounding lands with increased patrols, and plead to you that the Sacred Grove remains unharmed. We shan't know when that… filth will strike next." the elf stated, but then continued in a pleading manner "I know that you may not trust elven-folk much Sheriff, but believe me when I say that I care not for the petty rivalries that the Elven Court issues, nor for their politics. I care for the Locks, and ask that I be given your blessing in consulting the guard for the woods."
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Post by Lord Ainvar Hrothgarsson on Mar 13, 2014 2:07:10 GMT
Ainvar's eyes moved to Adoven. Wiping the blade of his dagger with a soft cloth, bedding it back into the sheath. 'The Grove is a sacred place to my people, for generations Cimbrians have worshipped, wed, and sacrificed. I assure you nothing will come of it, and were it to occur, I would stop only by death to defend it. The kidnapping of Puppy was not a lack of security, she was a willing member of a scouting party into the forest. To double the guards would simply maintain the level of fear, for it allows one to believe there is something still to fear'.
Ainvar loads his pipe, places a sliver of wood above the lit candle on his desk, and creates an ember in the chamber of the pipe. 'Now, I do agree with assuring the Gor has left these lands. Adoven, muster half a dozen scouts. Have them, dressed as traders and commoners, patrol the forest at night, at least until the next Moon'.
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Post by scarecrow on Mar 13, 2014 4:30:08 GMT
"Oh, one more thing sheriff, this one being on a more business related topic. I wish to officially register as the Guildmaster of Monks here at the Locks. I know I'm the only monk here, and that I have brought this up in the past, I just want to make it official."
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Post by Lord Ainvar Hrothgarsson on Mar 13, 2014 12:57:46 GMT
'All guild masters will be selected at the Althing, is there any further business?'
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Post by scarecrow on Mar 14, 2014 0:09:39 GMT
"No, thank you Ainvar." Scarecrow said with a slight bow, and walked out shuting the door behind him.
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Post by Adoven Leoros Bloodwynd on Mar 15, 2014 23:10:03 GMT
"Your will be done, thank you." the elf said, saluting in the elven gesture to denote great respect. Stopping at the door, Adoven looked back saying "I...apologize for my eagerness and thoughtless hastiness... I guess living a long life doesn't give the benefit of wisdom, eh?" he chuckled humbly, before venturing to the Old Town district, in search of a few choice people for such a task.
*Moves to Old Town thread*
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