Smooth

Reign of Weade's [realistic medieval RP]

@Blue Demon I will post for Freyja's band tonight if I can, cause I think muse isn't coming back. That way we can continue. Same goes for @DeltaV as we've been held off from posting long enough.

@Partisan

Whatever happened to them? I've seen them online on here recently, it's weird they haven't said anything. Can't wait for 'em forever.

Reign of Weade's [realistic medieval RP]

I think the capital having slaves would be cool, and maybe the Iron Hills. Not sure if it'd fit in well with the other places.

Reign of Weade's [realistic medieval RP]

So I am assuming that people haven't posted yet because they haven't had time. But is there any other problems as to why there's only been a few people that have posted so far? I want to advance the story.

@Partisan

Most likely it's just because of the weekend.

Reign of Weade's [realistic medieval RP]

Never used Skype before tbh. I might join but that depends on whether I bother to install it on something.

Reign of Weade's [realistic medieval RP]

Tension hung heavily in air ever since word had reached them of Lord Rikard's death. It was also unlikely to dissipate soon, so mused Evan Finn, the informal Master Scribe. This was a most delicate time for the Whitelands, and especially for the young Weade Joakim. Already multiple parties were openly moving to take advantage of the current instability, The regent had reacted well enough, and Evan felt a small sense of admiration for the boy he himself was only a few winters senior. Joakim had acted quickly. Maybe not with as much surety as the Weade were known for, but it was sufficient for now. That didn't mean he was placing all his faith in the boy. Evan hoped Gregar arrived sooner rather later. It seemed as though they barely had time to mourn for Duke Rikard, although the formal ceremonies for that would probably arrive when the heir to the seat of Winterhouse, Gregar, returned. Evan had no news of his father, who had been among those accompanying Rikard. “The world stops for no one.” Evan muttered to himself as he set about collecting the various relevant ledger books of the keep with the help of another apprentice scribe. Technically, he was still an apprentice himself. But dear old Barnabas had suffered some sort of fit and was currently bedridden. He had been in the towers when the first messenger crow arrived. It remained to be seen whether he would be well enough to continue his duties. “You say something, Finn?” called an older scribe from across the small room. “Nothing, Fletcher. Prepare the record books from last year in case the Marquis needs them. You'll be his errand boy when he arrives.” Evan gathered the books in a small stack and bound a leather belt around all of them. He left the work to the other scribe. He had only seen the Marquis of Urik a few times in the past, and quite frankly, Evan didn't like the man. There was a saying about the Gallatins in the Whitelands - 'Everybody in the courts know what the Gallatins are thinking.' Even if Galen hadn't been born into that particular family, Evan didn't think his opinion would change. The man just irked him. Something in his countenance, the way he dressed... Winter's breath, he was no noble but as a northerner he felt no man should be that proud to dress that extravagantly! More and more it seemed to Evan that the northern breed was dying out with the way some of these nobles acted. As great apprehension he felt at thinking a man like Galen Gallatin was the one being put in charge of Wintershouse. it was not his place to speak out against it. After all, he was just a mere scribe. But somebody really should have. Setting aside his misgivings, he had a messenger sent to the marquis to inform his of his new position and had the servants told to call for him when he arrived. In the meantime, Evan had other work to do. He settled himself in the Master Scribe's study, and laid a thick, heavy tome on the main writing table. The book was rather simply titled, Historie of the Most Noble Weade Family. He set aside another table for his personal journal and gathered various other books and letters, another table for a lamp, before gathering his writing paraphernalia. The feel of the pen in his hand relaxed the scribe, and he spent a long while in contemplation before opening the tome to the latest blank page before carefully writing. 54th year of Passing, 21st of October -Scibe Evan Finn The land is strife with many ongoing conflicts waged in the name of His Royal Majesty King Etwine of Borhilon. The Ironhills, under the dominion of His Majesty and governed by Duke Perris of Harrighfield, saw conflict over the rights of ownership to a particular mine. Negotiations failed to hold, with the result that King Etwine issued an invitation to battle for the possession of the mines. His Grace, Duke Rikard Weade, Rikard the Just responded to the summons of his liege and brought with him twoscore of his own men, including his son and heir Gregar, joined by other nobles under his vassalage and their levies. Alas, Rikard fell in battle, leaving the Whitelands under the temporary rule of his thirdborn son, Joakim Weade. Rumors are abound in the land of Lord Perris' bullish use of power. Many suspect this conflict is merely a stepping stone to secure a greater hold over the land of Borhilon, darker rumors tell of ambitions for the throne. This is a turbulent time for the Weades, as Lord Perris makes a claim to Winterhouse's seat, affirming the idea of Lord Perris' hunger for more power. Lord Regent Joakim called a meet at the Winstershouse, whereupon various nobles swore their fealty to the heir apparent, Gregar. The following noblemen pledged their service and loyalty to the new Duke Weade... The room remained in silence, but for the flickering of the lamplight and the scratching sound of pen upon paper. Evan Finn went studiously about his task. History was unfolding.

Reign of Weade's [realistic medieval RP]

Still need clarification on the calendar thing, since it has a small part in my post. Edit: I shot you a PM about it.

Reign of Weade's [realistic medieval RP]

I'll let the more important guys go first. For reference @Partisan, could you give us a calendar to work by and where this rp starts. Is it summertime or winter? I forget if you've already mentioned this before.

Reign of Weade's [realistic medieval RP]

Great. Seems we have a nice selection of characters.

Reign of Weade's [realistic medieval RP]

Also, is it just me or is the court really full of just backstabbers and spies?

@Partisan

It's totally your imagination.

Reign of Weade's [realistic medieval RP]

Evan Finn "You might want to re-think that."

Full name: Evan Finn Titles: Apprentice Scribe Social rank: Knight-born (technically a peasant I would guess) Job or societal position: courtly Scribe Age:20 Gender: Male Appearance: When Evan was younger, he was relentlessly bullied by his peers for having rather sharp, rodent like features, particularly with his pointed nose and smallish eyes. Most often, he would be called "Ratface" or some similarly charming appellation. To his pleasure, these features would grow less pronounced as he grew older, although not enough to shake the association with rodents. He has short unkempt hair, the color of which seemingly unable to decide between blond and light brown. His build is slight; taller than one might expect from initial descriptions. Personality: He is a fairly quiet young fellow, preferring to let others take the initiative in conversation and speaking only what he feels is necessary and only after some thought. He keeps to himself. Given how he grew up, he can be initially wary of people and holds a general disdain for physically imposing men. He'd rather avoid confrontations than try to get back at any aggressors, seeing as the amount of effort put into retaliating verbally or physically is simply not worth it. History: Simple enough, Evan is the only son of Sir Ilan Finn - a commoner turned guard turned captain of Winterhouse's guard, knighted for his distinguished service to Rikard Weade - and a maid in the keep's kitchen. When he was born, everybody expected Evan to take after his father, a stout man. But Ilan's child had been sickly, lighter than most babes when they were born. It would not be unexpected if Evan had died in infancy or even his childhood, with the harsh chill of the north. But he lived. His mother died of illness during a particularly harsh winter when Evan was barely 7. His father did his best to raise him alone, although admittedly Ilan could never bring himself to fully embrace what his weak son was. Although it was hardly Evan's fault, it was still a small shame for Ilan. His weak constitution as a boy ensured that he would never be a warrior, and rather than have him struggle with following his father's path Ilan had him placed under the care of the keep's Senior Scribe, Barnabas. Evan had no problems with the changes this brought about in his life. For one, it would mean the end of getting pushed around by the bigger boys and he would get to stay indoors. He came to greatly enjoy reading and learning. Under Barnabas' tutelage, he learned history, geography, politics, literature... In fact, his own level of education was almost on par with Rikard's children. He is set to take Barnabas' place, as the man was getting up there in the years, and his eyesight was starting to fail him. Given the nature of the Whiteland's masters, the position is somewhat superficial as the Weade preferred to take matters into their own hands, and that included letter writing, which would normally be a scribe's duty. As it was, Evan was mostly trained in record-keeping and occasionally preserving manuscripts and maps by copying them. Skills: Reading & writing, with a natural instinct for picking on subtleties and implications Dreams and fears: Once upon a time, Evan might have held dreams of becoming a knight known in all the lands for his prowess in combat and chivalrous nature. He has outgrown such desires for the most part. Now, he holds little ambition. As long as there is a warm fireplace, food at the table, and no prospect of violence, he is content. Thereby, no happiness would be gained by losing his comforts for any extended period of time. Favored equipment: Quill pens, ink and parchment. But most importantly, a sharp mind. Extra: Nothing to put here, really