Epsir

When the Flames Die

Yup, always room for more, and like Sightles said, we're a Free RP because we don't like to push standards. The only real rule on length is as long as it works.

When the Flames Die

Talk about Canti was fine and all but he certainly wasn't going to the Tower to ask for answers. Something he feared to be nearly universal among the regulars of the guard, mostly because it resided in him, was the idea that patience was not the answer. The Order were doing whatever they pleased beyond the veil of the law and if their power extended even to the regent then something was gravely wrong with the responsibility afforded them. He consoled the dangerous thought with the thought that it was perhaps the rivalry between two esteemed protective organizations speaking in what must be a panic. What should have been a panic, two people had been killed apparently. His eyes clicked back from the doors to the trio of newcomers. His curiosity had been piqued, and frankly duty demanded it but the implications of the attack made him shy away from turning it into his business. "So what about this attacker of yours? Where is he now? Did you get a look at him or any clue to affiliation or identity? He won't get out of the palace but I've got to send this up so the guard can move on it," he asked, slightly nervous on the topic but driven to do something for them.

---

So much for that. The investigator felt the political ramblings coming on, and her thoughts shifted back to business as Thomas began his tirade about rights and right. Morgan didn't have the answers she was looking for, he had been a useless risk but was, for the moment, an opening. Things were more complicated than she appreciated, if nothing else her sense of trouble had been agitated merely by the power struggle Thomas was seemingly engaged in. She knew nothing, and needed to know more. Disappear, that was the answer. It'd been poor fortune to arrive this night but if the palace kept on like this answers would become apparent from the outside. She looked around the room, taking in what few details were present. As silence took the room, she walked over to her emblem thrown on the table, and pocketed the patch. The action faced her to the corpse, and she was forced to contemplate that particular card on the spot. "No. I don't need it yet," she said, turning one her heel and walking away from the table to make straight for the door. "Take care," a dry remark that came impulsively as she rounded the corner, none of the parties in the room cared but that was what amused her.

When the Flames Die

"I would assume Mister Canti is still regent unless the order is so bold as to think they can strip him of the title," the guard said, shrugging his shoulders. He tried to look casual about relaying the information but inside it was a troubling possibility that the knights really had gone so far as to challenge the word of the regent. Wherever Bard II was, he was badly needed now if the government was its own components' ability to rule. The second question he didn't have an answer to, other than pure speculation. Why would they go so far as to arrest a regent? There was nothing to be gained from such a move unless they wanted the poor reputation of challenging authority. The only thing that fit the Order's reputation and typical conduct was that they had determined Canti to be some sort of threat to the king; only when the blood was threatened did the order act in a frenzy. It was all a little bit beyond his post, the job of the guard was supposed to be simple: keep people safe. He wanted to have better answers for the tired looking people before him, but the short of it was he had no idea why the Order was fired up. "But about why? I don't know. I don't think anyone does except the Order, and I've heard the lot of them are holed up in their tower with the regent right now. It's not good," he said. "But nobody wants to be the first one to step up and go to the tower, and I don't blame them. All the guard can do is hold the grounds and hope for the best."

When the Flames Die

The guard looked between the two speakers as they gave an utterly astonishing report. If they didn't look the way they did, he would have never believed a single attacker was acting within the palace grounds when they'd had the cordon up so long. The Order of the Thistle may have been believed to be involved in some creepy things by the palace guard, but they didn't deserve to be getting offed in the middle of the night, same to whoever the Tremora fellow was. "No harm done, just stay here, this is what the Guard is for. Don't do anything silly with that bow and make me look like an idiot," he said, looking at Gareth in particular but sounding none the more serious for the remark. He didn't think any of the three were going to be up to anything. They had a Lyoki royal with them, not that they were hard pressed to offer shelter in the first place. Admitting someone who walked in with a bow on their shoulder just looked to be in poor taste given the recent circumstances. "Come back along, get away from the doors," he instructed, turning and motioning for the trio to follow him back towards the head of the room. "Sorry for your loss, but you picked a shit time to be here. Order just booked the regent and no one has a clue what's gonna happen now," he commented along the way.

When the Flames Die

A trio of guardsmen were all that remained in the Great Hall, standing their silent guard before the king's table at the head of the room. Each man was garbed in the standard of the palace guard, rust colored brigandine. The fact that there were only three was a bit of an oddity, but it was testament to the priority of the palace guard placed on an empty room. The place was silent as a tomb for the first time it had been in days, and although it had yet to be cleaned up and organized the disheveled room still seemed eerily empty to the men who were stationed there for the entirety of the night. There had been sightings of cloaked strangers on the walls and in the corridors, and word of The Order's march on the regent had gotten around but there was little desire to retaliate and a few of the officers swore up and down that Canti had instructed them not to. Of course, everything three guys stuck in the great hall had heard from passing runners was hearsay. The appearance of strangers at one of the far doors immediately won the attention of each of them, their heads snapping up towards something when their entire night had been nothing. A quick exchange of shoulders convinced the man at the lead of the group to break off and walk towards the newcomers, calling out to them as he closed. "The palace grounds are closed.state your... What happened to you lot?" His tone shifted from official and impatient to alarmed as he looked over the trio, the surprise apparent on what little of the guard's face was visible under his helmet and coif.

Uldor, Land of Glory. (High Fantasy)

Rarden had been politely disengaged from the conversation his captain was holding to begin with, but the appearance of their food utterly destroyed the interest he had held in it. It was fortunate timing, because Fitch's speech on the worth of his harpoon was trying and he wasn't even paying attention. As he looked at the life-giving, blessed chicken delivered before them, he could still only think about how well things were going for them. The only way it could turn down from here was if they were mugged on the way back, or if the port authority ceased their vessel, or if the food was diseased, or. He sighed and contented himself with cutting a piece of the chicken away and sticking it in his mouth. He would have torn into it without hesitation if Louis hadn't beat him to the punch. It was incredibly petty and he knew it, maybe even enjoyed it, but he was out to groom an image of at least mild sophistication, even if only by comparison.

When the Flames Die

Wallace scowled and recoiled as he was struck, glaring defiantly at Thomas regardless of his current confinement. The man's expression softened as his list of offenses was read to him, and he seemed to take satisfaction with the growing list of accolades. "Good luck," he remarked behind a sneer, as Thomas named himself regent. It was good to know what they knew in full detail. The rest of the speech might as well have been irrelevant rhetoric to him, and he left the room cooperatively with his many captors. He didn't expect a trial, but he'd be able to make his move long before it came to whatever drastic decision Thomas was getting ready to make. If the two Lyokis were still in town, it'd be easier to simply flee under amnesty. The thought almost made him laugh.

Maria watched the spectacle with a slowly curling frown. It was quickly becoming apparent that she'd stumbled into the middle of some sort of internal power struggle, likely linked to the incident which spurred her presence. She'd seen it before, and what was making her uncomfortable was the list of possible relations between what she was seeing now and what she'd been told. The moment ended, the knights left with Wallace, and her eyes went left to Thomas to engage him for the time he spoke to her. Appreciative of the progress thus far, she pretended not to mind the fact that one of her own 'escorts' remained close at hand. His recounting of Lexine's death elicited a glance back towards her corpse. One particular detail stood out, and the knife tied around her left ankle suddenly felt just a bit more uncomfortable. Plenty of people did the same, she reassured herself that her appearance was the only oddity. She was punched twice in the same conversation when Thomas revealed the date of her death, and Maria's head came around quickly to lock eyes with the man, hoping to see some hint of a lie. The freshness of the body had already told her as much, but she had refused to believe given the strange circumstances. She didn't know what to say to the man, she'd been had just as hard as the Keilauds, and a tinge of fear crept in as she wondered what exactly was going on outside in her absence. Everyone had their orders, but... "I received notice that I was supposed to be dead in Keilaudrin. I'm the only person among the five names given who was in reserve. Inculpable. So I am responsible for the investigation. I have disproved their presence in-country, and I entered Mullen tonight. My company is offshore, I am accompanied here in Mullen only by my officer staff, who are recognized as a diplomatic party by the Crown," she explained the circumstances that lead to her presence, seeking to clear the air between the two parties. The more they talked, the worse the picture looked. "Only one place to start. Who sent that letter, ran Keilaudrin's investigation?"

When the Flames Die

Maria's hands slowly came down, stopping in intervals as she looked over the knights. As she calmed, the ridiculousness of her gambit struck her and she only just managed to keep a straight face as her head turned between the parties present. It was difficult to believe that everything was over, like that, with only a duel in her future. She stepped down from the table, a ginger, slow descent as she remained on edge and alert for the first hint of a lie. If the knight's reactions had been any indication, the challenge was something they took seriously. Whatever, she needed to trust them or there were no options left. The inspector exhaled deeply, leaning one elbow against the table and waiting after Thomas had promised to hear her out. She acknowledged his courtesy with a deep nod of her head, and resigned to watching their business with the man Lewyn was manhandling.

Wallace frowned as he was pulled up from the floor like some fallen child. His head spun but slowly he was coming down from the headache. He did not chose to afford Sir Lewyn his attentions, looking indignantly away from the man holding him up as if he could ignore the incident. When Thomas began to approach him, he turned to look at the man, wondering what came next. Every few moments was punctuated by an angry glance over towards the woman in the room. For someone with a record of impulsive violence, it seemed that more than the number of scars on her face had changed in a few years. The thought brought him back to Thomas, and the final understanding that whatever he had tried to create, the 'violent record' of his that most people were concerned with was an invention. He felt disappointment, more than fear. He'd failed, that was irreversible now that he was inside Thomas' domain, but that was nothing that had ever set him back before. "Isn't it too convenient that some jackboot walks in with all the answers? They want to ruin you Morgan, and their hunting hound is standing right there," he spoke resolutely, dedicated to his sinking ship even though Thomas' silent approach filled him with with uncertainty.

When the Flames Die

Wallace toppled to the ground when he was shoved, dragging his hand along the wall as he fell to slow his fall. It didn't make a difference, he banged his head against the ground. The pain was nothing compared to the whirlwind of agony he was experiencing before his fall had even concluded. Maria Trinan, obviously the target of Lexine's aspirations. She was unknown here, but he'd heard all of the existing stories about Arcartus' misfit soldier, read most of them in their efforts to pass off a fake. Her short tenure as a captain was far less interesting than the rumors regarding her Lachnet heritage. His head turned from the floor, looking over to Lexine's body. If he could just make it over... There was no chance. He was done with the spectacle, he watched Trinan now, waiting for his chance to get up and bolt as sir Lewyn ran off.

Trinan looked down at the room, spotting Lewyn and preparing to descend on the man first before addressing the other knights in the room. She was distracted, when she saw the look the man on the floor was giving her. She loosely recognized the idea of Wallace Canti, definitely knew the regent's name though not his face, but locking eyes with him broke the trance. What was she doing? Nothing she did could explain away twenty bodies and there wasn't any chance the knights would stop their pursuit until she'd ruined every sword on her person. The investigator backed away from the knights, going further back around the table to buy some time as she raised her hands in the air. She wasn't worth everyone in the room, wouldn't let this devolve into that, but she had only one undeniable talent. "I will prove my innocence in a duel. I challenge you, Thomas Morgan." The guys at Erschald would have died laughing to hear that she was fighting fancy, but if she could avoid dying screaming the trade would be good enough.

When the Flames Die

That'd be crazy