Freya bowed her head slightly, then covered it again. "As you wish, my lord." She turned to hand over her daggers to a soldier, then hesitated and turned back. "I do believe that I forgot to introduce myself. My name is Freya Baranfinnel, a healer loyal to your crown."

She slowly turned and headed towards the back, pulling the two daggers from their shoulder sheaths, and one from her left boot. She stroked the hilts lovingly before handing them to a nervous-looking gaurd. "Treat these well, I do not wish to come back and have to punish you." The healer's hard eyes flashed, and the young man gulped nervously.

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Married Artemis Fowl on July 16, 2007
[!+^$%=#?&]
The Seemingly Nice But Actually Really Nasty Nazgul
School ate my life. *sigh*

Alenia scoffed audibly at the rewards the king promised them, bowing her head down when she noticed that people were staring at her with odd looks. But it wasn't like she could help it. "A position at the castle" As what? The castle locksmith? "Patronage from all the lords and ladies" She already enjoyed that by stealing their jewelry and pieces of art, in addition to their money. The only thing that sounded promising was the gold. Though, she was rather skeptical of it. All of the nations combined could not possibly have that much gold, let alone Throstate. She briefly speculated the people's reactions when they discovered that the king was unable to pay for their labours.

Then people began to introduce themselves. Alenia kindly abstained from it. Most of these were pompous fools, trying to make themselves look good. She instead left the pillar that she was resting against. She didn't want to attract much attention to herself; she simply couldn't. She was a thief. To draw attention to her would be suicide. However someone had an idea who she was and it was best that she confront it now. She walked to the assassin, the one who asked if he knew her, and whispered, "What do you want from me?"

_________________

I was cured all right.

Stasiak stood at the rear of the group, staying silent for the duration. But at the sight of so many people fawning over offering their services to the king, he just had to speak up. “What is it with all of this...this courtesy, this pomp & circumstance, this…patriotism?” he spat out the word like it was disgusting bile at the back of his throat. “Where does it get you in life. What reward do you get for being a patriot, hmmmm…? The king, be he young or old, foolish or wise, gets men and women willing to throw themselves onto his enemies swords with wild abandon, people barely more than paid slaves ready to die upon his command. And you—” he started to laugh “—you get to die along with the other idiots and fools who consider themselves patriots. Who will remember your names? The king’s name will be remembered forever, whether it be praised or cursed, but the patriots, the ones willing to lay down their lives for the ideal of king and country; they will be lost to the sea of time, forgotten in the blink of an eye, a blood-stained blade the sole memento to their pathetic existence.”

“That is not to say that I will not go, oh no, I’m not saying that. But—” Stasiak held up a finger “—I had better get my money. All of it. Paid in full the moment I return. Or I will, oh so subtly, point out to Celsea just who ‘acquired’ their little miracle weapon.”

“As for this little….meet-and-greet session going on here, I’ll have refrain from participating. You see, names are not necessary to work with someone. Names are irrelevant. Names are pointless. You people hide behind names; use them to distract from what you really are.” Not to mention, he thought to himself, that if someone knows your name, you have to go back for them if they get caught, because they could give you up to get off scott free.

_________________
Four Gods wait on the windowsill,
Where once eight Gods did war and will,
And if the Gods themselves may die,
What does that say for you and I?

Now, three Gods wait on the windowsill
Where one God's blood was lately spilled
While black tongues lap at the spreading pool
And build the strength they need to rule.

Bronwyn was the first to reel on the man, her obsidian eyes glinting brightly at the thought of a challenge. It was not often that she met someone worthy of her ire, but Stasiak went for her pride - she was not terribly appreciative of it.

"Sir," she said facing the Stasiak, catching his eyes with hers, and stepping forward with an easy grace that only came from several years of practice. Her smile was one of a cat that had just caught a mouse.

"I should like to mention that you are joining said patriots and should anything go wrong, your name will be lost to the pages of history just as ours have been. We are one in the same, you just choose money over honor...and let us face it, you did not really have much of that to offer in the beginning. Did you?" She ended by tilting her head to the side and letting her smile grow a fraction so that her teeth could barely be seen.

With her thoughts vocalized she had no more to say to the man and therefore let her gaze fall to the rest around the room - she had decided to put on no show for these people lest she be stuck playing the role of a ditz the duration of the assignment. No, she would save her skills for those that mattered.

"I am Bronwyn, daughter of the Duke and Duchess Maelstrom," with a nod she stepped back and seemed to shrink into the rest of the group having nothing further to say about herself. They could easily derive what she did from her title.

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Heavens no. Hell Yeah.


Set 1: Nurr | Set 2: Me

Fredric gave the conversation his full attention for approximately two minutes before abandoning the effort and returning to the fascinating report on the rather unique political structure of Celsea that he'd been reading prior to the meeting being called. These people were mad, he decided, every one of them. They'd no concept of how to behave in the presence of royalty - nearly everything so far had been either excessively flowery or flagrant disrespect that bordered on violence. Both were an insult to the king's intelligence, which Fredric happened to hold in reasonably high regard.

He'd never understood the unfavorable perception that some seemed to have of the king. The man was young, yes, but not absurdly so. Fredric had filed the birth announcement some twenty-four years ago, if memory served him, which it usually did. The king's own great-great-grandfather had taken the throne at the age of twenty-seven and had ended up a rather skilled and well-liked rule. It was far too early to assume that Kyne would not do the same. He was by no means a scholar, but Fredric had encountered the king - then a prince - many times in his studies, and he had seemed an intelligent young man with great respect for his personal and national heritage. Given a few more months with his highly qualified advisors, Kyne would no doubt make a fine king.

Fredric was also rather bemused by the demands being made. When had there ever been any indication that they would not be receiving their due reward? The king had been rather clear on that from the beginning, and the signed document would hold him to his claims. All of these threats and overly dramatic attempts at intimidation made no more sense than the verbose introductions to a man who had researched them all quite thoroughly.

Just as he thought that this meeting could get no more absurd, some idiot managed to insult the kingdom, the king, and all supporters of the like in a single breath. This was getting out of hand.

"'All citizens of the kingdom Throstate are afforded the following rights: the right to own and profit from land, the right to possess weapons outside of military service... the right to legal trial following criminal accusation, the right to self-defense without prosecution in the event of a personal attack... and protection from hostile forces including but not limited to foreign armies in times of both peace and war,'" Fredric quoted dryly. "To name a few. If you do not like it, you may leave. For myself, I consider the occasional cost worth the benefits."

He sniffed, then pushed up his glasses and resumed reading.

Stasiak grinned at the woman. “You got me there, I’ve never had much use for honour. But that could be because I realize that we are all going to die, and honour is of no use to the dead. And being honourable usually gets you killed. Therefore, honour is of no use to those living souls whom wish to keep on living.” He finished the sentence with another laugh. “We are all footprints on the beach, and the tide is always coming in. One day it will wash us all away; all of our achievements, all our accomplishments will vanish into the sea of obscurity. The difference between you and me, is that I know it; I accept it, so I live each day as though that is the day I will be ‘washed away,’ consequences regardless.”

After hearing her speak her name, he grinned all the wider, “Oooooooo….. So we have more royalty amoung us. Your name may be remembered for a little while after all….in a footnote perhaps?”

He looked over at Fredric, “Looks like we’ve got ourselves a bookworm here.” Stasiak sneered, “What do you know of the world outside, hm? Do you know what it is like to not have enough money to buy food? Do you know what it is like to have your farm be raided by bandits and have the soldiers do nothing because they are either too incompetent or too stupid or too well paid off to care?” Stasiak was nearly growling now, “Do you know what it is like to kill a man when you should be enjoying your youth playing with your friends? Don’t talk to me about laws and rules and rights of people until you’ve lived in a place where only strength rules and no one has rights that they haven’t taken for themselves. Then you will learn that rules and rights have no real meaning.”

_________________
Four Gods wait on the windowsill,
Where once eight Gods did war and will,
And if the Gods themselves may die,
What does that say for you and I?

Now, three Gods wait on the windowsill
Where one God's blood was lately spilled
While black tongues lap at the spreading pool
And build the strength they need to rule.

The last words of Stasiak rang in Freya's ears, and she spun around and marched towards the man. Grasping him firmly by the shoulder, she hissed in his ear. "He may not have lived in a place such as you describe, but I have. So hear me now as an equal in suffering. I say, rules and rights have their proper places and times. Here and now, for instance."

She relinquished her grip slightly, "All the king has to do is flick a finger and we are all dead. Right now, his rules are keeping us alive. Don't be so quick to forget that." Freya glared at the man.

((OOC: will be out of town, may or may not be able to post until Monday))

_________________

Married Artemis Fowl on July 16, 2007
[!+^$%=#?&]
The Seemingly Nice But Actually Really Nasty Nazgul
School ate my life. *sigh*

Roderick twisted his face in an odd way like an animal does when it suddenly has something thrust in front of his face. He thought his words through and then spoke.
"Sir, is there a problem with wanting to give your loyalty to something? And as for what does it get you, I do not particularly care about the pay. Yes it is nice. No, I am not going to threaten the King to give it to me before it is even a problem. For all of my life my family had been provided for by mainly the King and his court and there has never been a problem with our income."
He took a breath to calm him self and then continued.
" Whatever your opinion about names keep it I'm not going to argue about it. I have a different opinion and I am rightfully entitled to it as are you, but you cannot disagree that our area of work would be a helpful thing to know since it is up to us as a whole to come up with a plan of attack. What good would it do if we had five or six groups of people that had no clue how to use each other,"

Rory walked over to the area where there was enough room to walk without bothering others with his stir-crazy legs.

_________________

"Holmes is a little too scientific for my tastes -- it approaches to cold-bloodedness"

Terrel listened, hands clenching tighter on his stick, as words behind him flew. Do they have no knowledge of how to act in front of a king? He was proper in all he said. And those men. How dare they introduce themselves to everyone, especially those of higher rank? And half acted as though the king wasn't even there, while the others gave rank demands. Of course the king would keep his word.

He knew how to barter, and he knew when one was just wasting hot air. To ask for assurances after they were already given was only jumping into a briar patch of trust. "Your Majesty." He again bowed. "As I see it, we have but one job, and that is to obey your orders. All other words are pointless bickering. I ask Your Majesty's leave to withdraw, to rest before the journey." Terrel turned and gave a nod to Fredric. The man may be a scribe, but he knew how to behave in court. On his way out, he approached Bronwyn. "My Lady," he murmured and bowed. Face steely and mouth tightening at the corners when he looked at the others, he made his way to the door.

_________________
going on a journey through my old claims

A judiciously timed meow, just as Terrel was speaking, caught Elanna's attention, and with a muted exclamation - "Why, you smart kitty!" - she bent her knees for his leap. The Admiral settled himself, half on her shoulder and half on the case of her lyre, with feline smugness.

The next three things happened simultaneously. Terrel walked out, the irritated guard who had previously chastised her started forward, and Elanna judged that now was a most convenient time to get her own introductions over with.

Shrugging her lyre case into a more comfortable position, she brushed past the little girl-warrior, the one with the five daggers (Elanna wondered how she didn't jingle as well) with an, "Oh, do excuse me," and approached the young king's seat.

Drat and blast it, how did this go?

"Your Majesty," she started, judging this a good beginning point, "I'm Ela - oh, but you knew that. Well, I'm a scribe and a - oh, but you knew that too. Well." The good beginning had deteriorated. She didn't think he'd want to be introduced to her cat. "Be assured of my - loyalty, sire." She curtsied, wondering if that should have happened first. "I'll be pleased to, er, represent you."

The Admiral mewed loudly. He might have been agreeing, but Elanna would rather not have hazarded a guess.

_________________

Despite her best efforts to remain quiet and calm, Lyrra was growing very impatient. Could we just get on with this already?! Usually, it took quite a bit to set off her temper, but the day had just started out all wrong. She had so many things to do around the cottage, and she certainly didn't want to pull herself to bed to come to this meeting. Now, all this bickering and arguing was really beginning to irk her.

So, in a quiet voice, laden with irritability, she said, "May I ask what good all this talking is doing for anyone?" Feeling more bold than normal, she looked around at all the faces in the room, the annoyance plain on her face. "We know our mission. What is left but for us to get on with it?" Lyrra knew she had probably spoken out of turn. After all, it was not her's but the king's place to send them off, but it seemed that they would never begin this, and she was eager to be away.

_________________
I'm back!

After Stasiak's words, Kyne had leaned further back into his chair, and rather wearily massaged his temples. But then the Lady Bronwyn had jumped on him, and Fredric had actually paused his incessant reading for a moment to state a few relevant facts. And then had came a regular flurry of responses, voices overlapping voices, passionate and heated. All concluding in the rather tense departure of one, and the sworn fidelity of the young scribe and - was that a cat?

The king blinked.

"Thank you," he said to the girl, nodding once. He looked towards the impatient girl who'd just spoken, allowing himself a hint of a smile. "Eagerness is desirable. But don't you think it would be good to rest for a night before undertaking such a journey?" He turned to the rest of the group, and just for a moment questioned his sanity in such choices.

But no. They were the best, exceptional at the one skill which might be needed. Arrogance, unfortunately, often came with such talent. Kyne felt sure that between their pride and curiosity, not one would choose to abandon the mission. Their loyalties... well, that could be dealt with. After all, he had placed his best spy in their midst.

The king stood this time to address them. His mulled his words over in his head, feeling it his duty to put this man in his place, and yet unwilling to make things any more heated.

"Many of you, as children, heard stories and legends of when man first began to use the longbow. But few realize that there actually was a time when something so vital today to our lives was both strange and novel.

"Can you imagine the world before it? Cruder weapons, harsher lifestyles?

"If nothing else, do not forget what this weapon <i>is</i>. What it means to Throstate, to us."

He watched them, almost curiously, such a vast difference between every face. A dozen worlds, all thrown together. They would have to bond, become a team, learn to respect their differences as well as their shared uniqueness. And yet... Kyne wondered bemusedly how could they ever learn to respect one another, when some couldn't even find in themselves respect to show him, their crowned king?

"There is no more to discuss, I think. I have given you all the information necessary, and your companions can fill you in on anything else. Ifen and Lorne," he gestured to the two, "know a good deal about Celsean protocol, which I'm sure you would find useful to learn before you're off. And my Master Archivist knows a good deal about <i>any</i> topic in which you find yourself unknowing.

"And now, I must ask you all to please adjourn to your private rooms for the night, or a small dining hall in which there has been prepared an evening meal for you. There will be horses saddled for your departure at dawn. I will see you off."

The king raised his palm, and guards moved in to see any who might be willing to leave out of the room.

_________________
<center>
"The piano is able to communicate the subtlest universal truths by means of wood, metal and vibrating air."

Roderick listened to the king's speech intently. He thought about what the king was saying as he beat up on himself on the inside for Losing his temper and showing his pride.
After the king dismissed the group Rory slowly walked towards the door and picked up the hat he carelessly dropped on the floor. He walked towards the king and meekly said, he head turned towards the ground.
" Sir, may I ask to be shown to your stables. I rode here on my own horse, and although I would be happy to ride one of your provided horses I really have this horse trained to do all of the things that put me where I am at this moment." He raised his young, dark, brown eyes to the king for half a moment.
" Sir I also know that your horses are the best in the land. in fact I believe our stock started from a handful of your great grandfather's stallions. I would just really love it if I could see these horses everyone is riding." he bowed graciously not exactly sure what to do after having made a bold such a bold request.

_________________

"Holmes is a little too scientific for my tastes -- it approaches to cold-bloodedness"

Name: Fionn Blyst
Gender: Male
Age: 27
Occupation: Soldier/Scout/Professional Distraction
Appearance: Brown hair, grey eyes, average height and build. Fairly average looking, in essence. Excellent physical condition, though.
Personality: Read and find out.
History: RAFO
Specialty Creating 'large-scale' diversions during or before a battle or raid. And scouting out hostile territory.

See? I got it up. A little belatedly, true, but it's up, andn I'm in. ^_^

EDIT: Since Ellie did give me a slight opening (I didn't see it the first time I read his post) and nobody else is posting, I might as well...

----

Fionn glanced up as the first of the thieves entered the dining room. Out of unbreakable habit, he had put his chair near one of the pedestals supporting an ornate vase. Should anything happen, it would make a delightful ruckus if he simply kicked the pedestal, and he was rather good at fleeing from attention drawn his way. In theory, it would give the guards a chance to strike while the threat was distracted, but having watched them for a few minutes, he doubted that they could do much with it. Especially not against the man who had walked in--he strolled with an air of confidence that few men would feel when surrounded by so many guards and being of such a trade.

He gave a smile that he did not mean--he had years of practice at that, originating with family holidays--and took another bite of the apple he had nicked from the table. "This food's not poisoned, so you can relax," he said, making a guess at what an assassin might be worried about in a strange place. "Of course, you might be unlucky enough to eat something that is poisoned and which I don't know about, and then all of your skill will be for naught," he added. It wouldn't do to make the man too comfortable--the less he and the others ate, the more Fionn could enjoy himself. Food was one of the more interesting and enjoyable aspects of life, and since in his line of work he could easily make a fatal mistake, he preferred to enjoy life as much as he could.

_________________

Lyrra let out a long, slow sigh of relief as the crowd began filing out of the meeting room. How long had it been since she'd been around so many people? Since her parents died and she left the refuge of her cousin's home so many years ago, she had had little contact with others. The only time she ever went into town was to stock up on supplies, and since she did her own hunting and grew the other things she needed, that wasn't often. She took a few moments to lean against the wall now that it was quiet. Lyrra closed her eyes, reveling in the silence and solitude.

Her stomach rumbled lowdly, interrupting her thoughts. How long had it been since she'd eaten? She pushed herself off the wall with a shrug. Well, since I'm now a guest of the king, I might as well take advantage of my brief access to the finer things in life. She knew she had seen some of the others head toward the dining hall. How much more delicious would a meal like this be than the ones she could provide. Lyrra might be able to hunt down just about any game available, but unfortunately her cooking skills were... lacking. Eagerly, she trotted through the doors towards the dining hall.

Upon entering the hall, she found that two of her "companions" had already found their way to the food. Lyrra noticed that one was the rather arrogant man who had been so outspoken during the meeting. She gave both men a cool nod before sitting down to enjoy her food.

_________________
I'm back!

Alenia blinked indignantly as the assassin ignored her and moved on to the dining hall. He could have done better if he had slapped her. Her personal pride wounded, she released some of her frustration by pinching the pocket of one of the guards. She moved silently and delicately, smoothly gliding towards him and inserting her hand when his gaze was away. She decided to count the meager amount when she retired. She put the purse further into her sleeve as she walked towards the dining hall. And there he was, the assassin. Inspecting the food in his bouts of paranoia. A couple others were there as well, others who remained anonymous to her. While she was determined to find out what the assassin knew about her, she was equally determined to avenge her pride. However, the exact process was still being debated.

_________________

I was cured all right.