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Ballog could barely conceal a victorious grin as Thaddeus walked past him, obviously wanting to avoid meeting with the General. If there wasn't any possibility of being heard he would have let out a hearty laugh. Despite all appearances the General was much smarter than he appeared to be. After all, he wouldn't have become a General if he wasn't smart enough. Although when it came to alcohol and wine he often lost all sense of logic even before drinking.

He quickly walked down the hallway, left the castle, and proceeded towards the nearest bar he could think of. That was, after all, the only place Zoran could be if he wasn't at the castle. It seemed that today would be in his favor as he spotted Zoran about to enter the bar. "General," he called out, causing the man to look around in search of him. "It's been far too long," he said, stopping in front of the taller man.

The General was a man of large stature, standing nearly a head taller than Ballog with a muscular body. His piercing emerald eyes stared down at Ballog, as though trying to remember who he was. After a few moments his eyes widened in realization as he wrapped an arm around the smaller man and let out a hearty laugh. "I almost didn't recognize you there Ballog. You're not as scrawny as you used to be. That and you've stopped stuttering."

"The only reason I stuttered back then was because you were so much larger than I was all those years ago," Ballog commented calmly, lifting the General's large arms off his shoulder. "Sad to say that this meeting isn't meant to be as joyous as I wanted it to be."

"Bah you're still too serious. Come on, let's have a drink," he offered merrily, placed his arm around the smaller man yet again and began to lead him towards the bar only a few feet away. "You did promise we'd go get a drink together the next time I'm in the area."

"That I did my friend, that I did," he said, remembering that promise very clearly as he stopped walking and removed the General's arm from his shoulder the second time in five minutes. "And I'll have you know that I'm not as serious as I used to be about my job. It's just that I do have a good reason to be so serious at the moment. And I will need your help if my plan is to succeed."

"Let me guess," Zoran began in a more serious tone and began leading Ballog once again, away from the bar this time. "This has something to do with the Queen, doesn't it?"

"Sharp as always and yes, this is why I came to look for you."

The pair went silent at that moment, Zoran leading Ballog into a building that the latter knew to be an inn. They proceeded into Zoran's room where they continued their conversation after both men had sat down around a small table. "The Queen isn't suited to rule, not as she is," Ballog stated, to which the General merely nodded as Ballog interlaced his fingers and placed his chin on his hands. "I have come up with a plan that could turn her into a more suitable ruler but I will need your help. But both of us must remain clear of suspicion if we are to pull this off."

"I see. But what kind of plan is it?" Zoran asked. "And why come to me? Surely there are those in the castle who can aid you in this endeavor. And what of the Queen's possible suitors? Surely one of them can rule this Empire."

"I came to you because you are the only one I trust enough to relay my plans to. I know there are those who wish to help the Queen, but I do not know if they have the conviction to go through with my entire plan. As for the Queens suitors... quite frankly I don't trust any of them and I doubt I ever will," he confessed. "Lords from across the land could be trying to take advantage of this to take the throne for themselves. As for those who were chosen by others or those who came to test their fortune, I highly doubt any of them know how to rule an entire empire."

Zoran could understand the younger man's worries, he truly did. But it only made him wonder even more why the advisor came to him. It was more than just a matter of trust, at least until he told Zoran his plan. Then perhaps he would understand better the need for trust.

"Just as you must walk before running and crawl before you walk, a man must learn how to serve before he can lead. A ruler must know how the empire works from the inside out and what better way to learn than to be a subordinate of the previous ruler. I'll wager anything and everything I have that I could find a more suitable ruler among the people of the land than those who are trying to wed the Queen."

"I know you're one of the late King's advisors, and thus the Queen's advisor, but I think you're overreacting even if just a little." stated Zoran with a bit of worry evident in his voice. "Surely at least one of her suitors could become a suitable ruler to the land."

"You are correct," Ballog replied, causing Zoran to wonder why he agreed so easily. "It is as you say, at least one of her suitors could become a suitable ruler."

'Well that explains it,' thought Zoran.

"But what we need is someone who can rule the land now," Ballog stated firmly, looking up to Zoran with determined eyes. "We don't have time to teach her suitors and testing them to see if they are indeed suitable will not prove anything unless the test is the kind that is truly happening. Anyone can answer questions, but can they give those same answers when they are tested in the middle of a conflict where a moment's hesitation will lead to defeat?"

Zoran sighed heavily, knowing that what the younger man was saying was true, every word of it. "So what is this plan you've come up with? It must be something big if you're going to try and turn the Queen into a better ruler instead of just finding one."

"The plan itself..." Ballog paused and looked down at the floor, a dark look appearing on his face. "The plan is a dangerous one. If it fails I will surely lose my life, you as well if they discover that you are a part of it, regardless of the fact that it was done to try and help the Queen. Knowing this, will you still help me?"

"Ha! Of course I'll still help you. Even if the Queen declares you a traitor I'd still help you even if it meant losing my title as General. It's all that it is anyway, a title. So tell me, what do you need from me?"

A faint smile appeared on Ballog's lips upon hearing those words. Those words were enough proof for him that he had made the right decision in seeking the man's help. "I need you," he began, looking back up to Zoran's eyes with determination. "To help me stage a coup."

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((I never said dark clothes, dark knight referred to the hooded face. scared, my character exaggerated him. sorry))


After hearing the other girl refer to the man as a Ranger, Kaelyn felt ridiculously stupid. How could she have thought so ill of him? Thinking back, it wasn't as if he had looked all that evil. She hadn't been able to see his face and after taking one glance had only seen the dark shadow which was probably why she hadn't bothered to look at the rest of him. However, searching her recent memory she realize he was dressed in normal clothes and hadn't given off a threatening vibe. But after her little "escape" he must think she was absolutely crazy. That's right, the castle has crazy people roaming the halls who are completely inhospitable and don't even say thank you! How awful she had been and now she had a strange feeling in her stomach; probably the guilt eating away at her insides. And what if he told the Queen? Oh! She would be so disappointed! The ladies in waiting were supposed to be refined and educated and represent the great Queen in her magnificence but if Mytorane found out, Kaelyn would most likely be punished, or worse, dispatched to work for another mistress.... or master.

By now it was too late to go out and beg for forgiveness from the Ranger so all she could do was sit and sulk. She was young and young girls made silly mistakes. But then again, she was ALWAYS making silly mistakes. Soon, people wouldn't be setting the blame on her youth but on herself. Perhaps Gretchen was right, perhaps it was time for her to settle down and stop being a child. Perhaps she DID need a man to tell her what to do so she would stop being such a child and grow up. Her own friend, Diandra, who was also 17, was already married and due to have a child in 3 months. Cassandra was 16 and betrothed to a great Lord living a 3 week's journey away, whom she had never met but received presents from every time his brother came to have an audience with the Queen. But Kaelyn was stubborn and clinging to her childhood which would no doubt be ripped from her one of these days. Sighing, she decided to listen in on the chatter of the other girls. They were discussing the room of suitors downstairs.

"I heard one of them is dark skinned, and doesn't speak any English. Instead, he clicks his tongue like this!" She proceeded to click her tongue while another girl spoke.

"Well, if that is true, which I highly doubt, he doesn't stand a chance! The Queen needs someone who can advise her or run the country for her so she can rest and have lots of babies. Oh! Just think how busy we will be!"

A third girl joined in. "No, the Queen would never relinquish her control and shame on you for ever thinking it. She should just take on a pleasure slave and keep her power for herself. Yasha got to see one of them, didn't you Yasha!"

The girl, Yasha, told her part of the story. "I was down in the main hall and they called for help to wash and dress one of the new slaves. It was a young man, very handsome, but absolutely filthy! Didn't say one word while we bathed him. But once all the dirt and grime was off of him, he was a right good looking boy. I wouldn't mind having him around the castle..."

"Yes but if he was the Queen's boy you would have no chance at all. Besides, you might end up giving him the pox and infecting Queen Mytorane." This was the first girl and she made her statement with a snappish tone, obviously disliking Yasha.

Yasha didn't hold back and replied, "I never had the pox! And you right well know it. But you know who did have it, Tallie? Lord Maksym." Yasha finished her statement with a wink. This absolutely enraged Tallie who stood up and...

"Stop, both of you," said Kaelyn. "It is so foolish of you to bicker like this. Whoever the Queen chooses, if she chooses anyone, we must accept and show our support. Now stop gossiping and maybe we can find something useful to do! I'm sure her majesty's closet hasn't been cleaned in ages so let us do that and stop bantering about things which we have no control over."

Kaelyn's little speech worked and the girls stopped gossiping and arguing and went to task. She had angered some of the older women in the process, but she didn't care. All she could think about was the poor impression she had made to one of the Queen's guests and what sort of punishment she might receive should she find out. Kaelyn thought highly of the Queen's opinion and really sought to please her although she did make mistakes, such as "forgetting" that she wasn't allowed down in the kitchen area. Deciding she needed some fresh air and went to see what, if anything was going on in the castle. She left the Queen's chambers and went through the hallways down to the main hall. Maybe she could catch a glimpse of the funny... man? who lived in the castle. Kaelyn hoped her day would get better.

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LiZi wuz hurr. (Don't you just HATE gangster talk?)

Halt bowed his head, "There is no need to apologize your majesty." He turned to the side and out of the way so she could walk past. He glanced at the Drail and turned to follow the queen.

He waited a moment before answering her question. "Only thing that you have yet to find out is that one of the more rebellious lords was found a few days ago hanging from the balcony of his room. An investigation of the guards is still underway by another Ranger."
The Truth actually, the same ranger who was "investigating" was the one who killed the lord. The lord was conspiring with other lords to raise an army and walk on the capital. So the night when he died, a Ranger snuck into his room in the middle of the night, broke his neck and threw him over the balcony with a rope around his neck. The ranger was back in the woods with in a half an hour.

He then walked up closer so he was just barely behind her and to the left when he said softly, "The core also believes that finding a suitor will be bad for the kingdom at this point. And that you should give them none of your time."

(Sorry for crappyness, I had a good post, then lost it. Also I thought I had that cleared that they knew each other because he hung out at teh castle while he was being trained, so she would have met him before.)

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"Yes, that lord," she replied to the ranger as she made her way down the stairs, making her way for the throne room, only a few corridors and hallways away. It wouldn't be the first lord that even thought of raising against her, under the assumption that due to her good nature she was weak, and therefore easy pickings to steal the throne and banner of Ithatyne. Such plots would be found out quickly and foiled as fast, usually by a guard or two, for some of these lords didn't have the sense to cover their tracks. Now, a mysterious death of this rebellious lord was chilling to her, and trusted that an answer would come from the event. She trusted that the rangers would do what was right in the name of the empire, after all.

Now, the next thing Halt had said, something about not taking on a suitor. She didn't object to the advise, in fact she didn't really like the flow of arrogant lords that waltzed through her throne room the past year, since her advisers had requested that she consider marriage. With that in mind, she was still curious about the bit of advise that Halt had given her. He was a good natured man, she could tell, so what was it about the suitors that had him worried enough to tell her to not marry just yet?

"Halt," she asked the ranger with a curious look, "Not take a suitor? Why?"

<OOC>Yeah, sorry, didn't notice.</OOC>

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Silivalne
Cromine

Those two need your clicks

Interest check for weird roleplay idea! Please look!

Halt thought how to state it correctly, if he just bluntly said that they could steal her power, it would seem he would think she was to weak to rule.

"Well in my personal opinion. As an old friend of the Queen" He smiled slightly and looked to her. "None of them are worthy of being your husband. They all are greedy pigs who would sell their own mother to get to the throne."

He looked forward and said softly, "But as a Ranger, the conflict of granting some of your powers to the new king, could cause the Empire to crumble. We have seen it many times before... But if you remain as sole ruler, with the help of strong advisors... none that will be swayed by money or power. You could control this empire far better than your father ever could."

He glanced back at her. " That is... if you don't follow in his footsteps..."

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"That is... if you don't follow in his footsteps..."

As Halt said these words she felt her head hang low, her eyes to the ground. It was now hard to make eye-contact with Halt for the remark, though she did agree with her assessment of the men that wanted to be her husband. Many of the lords were arrogant, spiteful, and incapable of the softer emotions that Mytorane could feel - and such people repulsed her.

Of course, Halt wanted her to stay single if she didn't follow in her father's path. It was a strange thing for her to fathom, NOT following the path that her father, the old and cruel king, laid down for her to follow. The failed attempts to groom the girl to take the reigns of power, maintain it, in the glory of stabilizing the empire and having maximum power over the people, for the good of the empire, the kingdom, and the family.

She walked down the stairs, pausing half-way through when the idea of not following her pre-determined destiny finally clicked, and confusion settled in her face.

"Not follow his footsteps," Mytorane quilled with confusion in her voice, directed to Halt, though she was looking at the floor, "You make it sound like I have a choice."

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Silivalne
Cromine

Those two need your clicks

Interest check for weird roleplay idea! Please look!

"These men are here to try their hands at marrying the young Queen. Or becoming slaves for her every desire. You, I'm not so sure."

Dousa stared hard at the man. Was he telling the truth? Had they just picked him from the shores for such a purpose? Surely they just wanted another deck-hand! What did he know about serving the queen? Unless her every desire included scrubbing her bedroom floors, or washing dishes, even pealing potatoes would be a more suitable job for someone of Dousa's competence. Were they teasing him? Toying with him? There was no way he had a chance of getting the queens attention. Not that he wasn't sure that his burred, frizzy black hair, or his callused soles and dark skin would be appealing to her. Were they really expecting her to do anything more than throw him in the dungeon for even thinking he was worthy of the queens presence?


Dousa could only sit and shake with the sound of the dungeon chains rattling in his ears. His own painful screams deafening him, pain beyond measure. One of his brothers had assaulted a guard for striking him. His fate would be decided before the king would ever even see his face. In fact, the king never even took a look at him, he informed the executioner via messenger-boy. Dousa's brother hadn't even the chance to spit his killer's face before they dropped his head from the block.

Dousa wouldn't give them the chance to see him fail. He'd run if he got the chance. why wasn't he running now? What was stopping him? There weren't any guards in the room as far as he could see, and the door was right across the room. What was holding him back?

This man.

Dousa fought again and he heard his voice building up in his lungs.

'Wha' ef I'uz ta leev dis place? I could be 'uv no use to da' queen. Why would 'day pick som'un like me to do such a 'ting?'

Dousa's eyes widened a little more as he spoke, realizing just how much trouble he would be in if he was confronted by an official here. He'd rather be back on the damned ocean than suffer the consequences.

Baxter hurried after, following the sweet smelling trail which lingered after the perfumed, bejeweled, and resplendant creature before him. Lord Jonal was on the move.

The man could clear a room. Sometimes just by the screech of his laughter, other times by his scent, sometimes by the sheer queerness of having him near. But more often, he attracted interest instead of repelling it.

"Come, Baxter! Come!" Lord Jonal warbled happily as he flitted his lanky self from room to room. Baxter tramped after, arms full of feathers and fur and some velveteen which had been colored in deep peach-rose. These were changes, should such be needed. Lord Jonal had a hard enough time going anywhere in the heels he wore (God knew how women managed to wear them so long! Jonal could be heard to say time and again) and his corset caused him to attempt to bypass the three flights of stairs back to his apartments as often as possible.

"Ah!" Jonal cried in relief as they managed to make it to the mirrored hall. It was his favorite place. He giggled his best giggle and twirled a bit while Baxter puffed up behind. It wasn’t as if Jonal were unkind to Baxter. The darling man did such a marvelous job, really. Not everyone was honored to serve Jonal. Rather it was just that Jonal’s body thrummed with the excitement of righting the slight of Lady Tottinlot’s tongue. The Queen would manage it, he was sure of it. Audience time would be soon, he’d been some months from being near her, and never had he sought a true meeting with the newest, young queen.

"Why, to think! Baxter, I’ll be speaking to her for the first time, directly, about something other than, her dresses." He lifted fingers and touched them to his lips as he hid his anticipatory smile. Giddy suited him well. Or so he felt it did, when he looked at himself in the mirror.

Of course, it would have helped his looks if Baxter were a taller man, but beggars can’t quite be choosers. There weren’t many who were taller than Jonal to begin with. He did his best at remaining "fragile" seeming with watching his weight and the clothing he chose as well as keeping up on the latest corset fashions. A lady was only as good as her corset though none but a dressmaker would dare say it aloud.

As they left the mirrored hall, Baxter got behind again and Lord Jonal clapped his hands sharply. "Come, Baxter. No more lollygagg-oh!" he stopped and stared at the girl in the hallway. "Why hello," he tilted his head and gazed at her, frozen in place and angled like a crane - a delicate sort of position in his mind.

Familiar. Baxter panted as he trotted close and whispered into his ear. "Que-kwey? Oh for heaven’s sake, Baxter, stop breathing in my ear!" Lord Jonal fanned a hand back at the red faced man. He looked back at the girl and pointed a long, pale finger at her. "I do believe we’ve met."

After a good swallow of air, Baxter bowed and added, more clearly this time, "The Lady Kaelyn, the Queen’s lady in waiting, Lord Jonal." He blew feathers out of his nose and smiled at her. "Lord Jonal, Lady Kaelyn." Baxter knew of her and therefore, his gaze was far more frank and presumptuous than it might have been had her birth been different from his own.

There was something to be said for the fact Lord Jonal did not notice the change in demeanor of his man-servant. Jonal merely was not the type to deem such trivial details in those lower than he, as important.

"Ohhh! Why yes! Lady Kaelyn. How are you? You do look lovely, are you going to the audience chamber?" Lord Jonal beamed.

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‘What will my death be like?’ he thought- and knew at once
with abrupt certainty, that it would be just like his life:
... the same balance of bearables.
~Amis

Serpents, all of them, all of these dandies and fops and rogues and duelists in the castle... they were all of them serpents in the guise of men, watching the Queen with glittering eyes and hiding poisoned fangs with honeyed words and kind gestures. In the old court influence was a matter of life and death, where one stood in the chain one of the few things that could ward off the king or queen's disfavor, but now that the young queen had ascended and revealed herself to be quite so open to suggestion... influence was a whole new game that these men and women were struggling to play at. No longer defensive but a weapon, those who once were influential found themselves falling out with the queen's morality, and those who might not have risen otherwise were growing drunk on the knowledge that they might have a hand in the empire, that they might guide it, or profit from it as it crashed down...

Drail did not care about the empire. From the youngest age, he knew that it was not the empire he was loyal too, it was his charge. It was not the country, not the castle, it was not the people, it was not his own morality...it was his charge, now the young Queen. So the actions of these men to gain their own power... it did not matter to him. Only the repercussions it would bring on his young ward. And whether this Ranger truly meant well or not, he could not be trusted, partially because of his order, and partially because Drail felt that Halt himself wished to be a suitor to the queen. It was a potential threat, he could see-the young man clearly felt he had some sway over her, having known her in the past, and if nothing else the Mytorare seemed to listen to him... all of which worried Drail.

But part of his duties were to offer his opinions when asked, and never prompt her. This, and many other such things, were beaten into him from days before he could speak himself-he was a servant, a slave, a willing tool; it was his place to provide, not to guide. He'd explained as much on the first day she'd stepped to the throne and the old Drail disappeared, and as such he remained behind them, his fingers drumming silently on the hilt of his rapier as he watched the two speak.

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"I think your broken language would get you into the most trouble," Vikas Tyr laughed, it was his way to poke fun at people. But to this one, he meant no insult, just a light-hearted jest. Though to any man in this room, he'd have his cerebral way with each and every one. Lords and Nobles were so alike one and other. They were arrogant, egotistical and brash. It took a single sentence to call upon the wrath of these men...and Vikas Tyr knew from experience that their wrath was as short as their tempers. They were so laughable.

"Now, I don't know what they'd want a lad such as yourself for. No offense, but you can't be Royal Family material. You don't look - or speak - the part. It's beyond me. But, I can tell you, based on these pompous pigs, you seem to have a heart...that's a bonus. Maybe you've a choice, but it still baffles me. But, men of your ilk are usually fast runners, mayhaps you could escape. I can't promise my blade would help you, I have a comfortable position here in the castle, I have my own quarters and receive several favours from the bath-girls here. Call me selfish, but that's not something most men give up for a stranger. But, we'll just see, won't we..."

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