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Post by Voltaire 'The King' Vanda'ar on May 26, 2010 23:50:48 GMT -5
String was woven between his elegant fingers, as he awaited the days report about his Kingdom, His province, his people. It had taken him years to gain the title "The Carrion King", years to gain the respect, and find the right allies. But there he sat in his 'throne' at the top. He was a good king, a cut throat like the rest of them, blessed with a silver tongue.
His mottled brown and black hair stood high over his head in some sort of glorified mohawk type deal, messy and unkempt. The sides were shaved, but were starting to grow back in. His eyes ever enchanting were a mix of black and gold, which added to his sharp features to create an almost polished look. He was tall and lean giving the impression that he was very fast and very flexible. His clothing was also a point of note, made out of fine black leathers and meshes, tailored to fit his slender body without restricting movement too much. Around his right wrist was a slender silver cuff with a delicate silver chain hanging off it, only a couple of centimeters long.
He licked his lips, just waiting, waiting for fresh blood, waiting for someone to screw up, waiting for someone who thought they could make it in the outside world, without him. He chuckled, none of these people would survive in the world out there, their world. Just as none of them would survive in his world, in The Ca'rion State.
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Post by Nathan (Norade) & Kennith on May 27, 2010 2:14:21 GMT -5
A member of the court a well dressed man enters the throne room with a short bow and walks to exactly a pace beyond where one would normally take a bow. Looking the man playing with a bit of string he smiles and places a hand at the pommel of his small sword. How he'd gotten in without a commotion is something heads will surely roll for, but that matters not now.
Then the man, dressed in fine silks beneath his showy plate says something absurd with such seriousness that it boarders on hysterical, "Duel you for your kingdom Carrion King, that is if you're not chicken?"
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Post by Voltaire 'The King' Vanda'ar on May 27, 2010 10:40:58 GMT -5
He stopped playing with his string for a moment, a stared at the man. He watch him intently with cold eyes for quite some time. Without a moments notices however, he burst into howling laughter, which also continued for quite some time before he stood up on the seat of his throne pulling out a sword and pointing it at the man.
"Listen, I don't know who you are, nor do I really care; Though I AM curious to know how you managed to get in here. But you can't just come in and 'duel' me for my entire kingdom. I don't think you have a clue where you are, and who these people are. They may be a bunch of Thugs, Thieves and social rejects, but they are MY thugs, thieves and social rejects; and if your aim is to dominate them, and change their way of life, then they too will fight you." He hopped down from his seat, sword still pointed at the man.
"Also," He added with a smile, "They're going to pick you naked with all your fancy shinnies. We'll sell your clothes and armor to the neighboring nations to put food in the mouths of our less fortunate children." He stated, trying to draw out the inherent poverty of a province with no major export, and no natural resources to spare. He didn't necessarily want to fight this man, for he could prove useful, if not for his clothing them perhaps for his skills.
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Post by Nathan (Norade) & Kennith on May 31, 2010 18:42:30 GMT -5
The laughter seems right, but Kennith can't figure out why for a moment and draws his sword to point at the other man. As the other man, the king speaks more the crazy swords man cocks his head to one side as if seeing the world the wrong way. Yet some of the words do sink in and he wonders if he came to the right place, the right castle. Everything is so fuzzy...
Looking up at the other man he takes a step forward and makes a less probing attack with his blade while saying, "I shouldn't see why you want me naked, or why your men shouldn't..." He stops part way through as if forgetting what he was going to say.
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Post by Voltaire 'The King' Vanda'ar on May 31, 2010 19:01:19 GMT -5
Voltaire parries and jumps back two paces, "Are you fucking insane?" he barks at the other man, surely this man was mad, he had to be, there was no other explanation. Voltaire was unsure what to expect from this man, and that made the Carrion King uneasy. Not knowing your enemy leads to major disadvantages on the battlefield. He really didn't want to fight this man now.
"Will you please put your sword away right now, you are obviously too far gone to use it."
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Post by Nathan (Norade) & Kennith on Jun 4, 2010 4:21:46 GMT -5
The other man is so loud and his shouted question of his sanity has Kennith whisper back, in a voice barely loud enough to hear, "Can't a duel be fought without such headache causing outbursts?"
The words that come after asking him to put his sword away nearly ring true until he comes upon the idea that he's being tricked somehow, to this he calls out, in a voice louder than Voltaire had used, "Your dirty lies and filthy tricks won't work on this man."
Stepping forward in a lazy looking stance he then makes a shockingly good probing slash that turns into a stab that seems aimed to remove an ear. This attack flows seamlessly into a defensive stance. For all his insanity the man has talents with the sword and somehow managed to get through an entire castle unquestioned.
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Post by Voltaire 'The King' Vanda'ar on Jun 25, 2010 17:00:23 GMT -5
The tip of the sword grazes Voltaire's ear drawing the faintest of blood, as he leaps backwards tangling swords with the other man ever so slightly. He narrows his eyes preparing for the possibility the a fight will be the only resolution, He hops back once more now standing atop the back of his throne. He lowers his stance being prepared to make another leap, he wouldn't strike until he knew some of the other mans capabilities, he needed a solid plan of attack.
"Listen, I have not lied to you, nor am I trying to trick you. I am simply TRYING to be diplomatic. Now I really don't want to hurt you. So I suggest you put your sword away and talk to me, about whatever it is you came to see me about." He made one last stern plea, if this didn't get through to the man, then he would fight without any reservations. He did not want to kill this man needlessly, nor harm him without good reason, for those were not the measures a king would take.
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Post by Nathan (Norade) & Kennith on Jul 1, 2010 19:30:20 GMT -5
They cross swords and then the king leaps away to land gracefully atop his throne crouched low and ready to strike. His eyes narrow and the crazy swordsman narrows and opens his eyes trying to find his most intimidating gaze. He finally settles for a raised eyebrow and a crooked grin.
When the other man makes an offer he says, "Tea... There can be no diplomacy without good tea."
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Post by Voltaire 'The King' Vanda'ar on Jul 1, 2010 19:53:19 GMT -5
"I'll have tea prepared post-haste and brought here." he said still crouched low on his throne, "Cecilia!" he bellowed out, not long after that a small red headed girl ran into the room, she was probably no older than twelve.
"Yes King?" she ask, clasping her hands together infront of her.
"Make Tea, and bring it here. With Haste, darling, if you would please." He asked, his tone changed completely when he spoke to the girl he had called Cecilia. It was soft and reassuring, and he smiled when she spoke, letting his guard down just a little bit. The small girl nodded and ran off quickly.
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Post by Nathan (Norade) & Kennith on Jul 1, 2010 20:12:31 GMT -5
With promises of tea the madman sheathes his weapon and steps forward to sit in the King's throne. It looks to be the nicest seat in the room, and nobody's using it. As he takes his seat he looks up at the man crouched on the throne and ponders something a moment.
"Isn't that less comfortable than sitting here?" Is the question produced by the pondering.
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Post by Voltaire 'The King' Vanda'ar on Jul 1, 2010 20:21:37 GMT -5
He lets out a loud laugh at the mans question, "You interest me...and so I'll let you sit in my throne for the time being." he says before he performs and near perfect backflip off the back of the throne and retrieves himself a chair from the side of the room, pulling it up infront of the throne.
"Who... Who are you?" He inquires, honestly wanting to know more about this... less than sane man.
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Post by Nathan (Norade) & Kennith on Jul 1, 2010 20:57:04 GMT -5
Kenneth laughs because the other man laughed and then he tries to follow this Carrion King's back flip with his eyes and ends up on his head in the throne. Getting back to seated he watches as the other, saner, man pulls up a chair and sits before him. He asks a question, who? A question that the insane man would like to know himself.
"Who am I? If I knew that would I have charged into a castle and demanded tea?" He sounds almost sane asking that.
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Post by Voltaire 'The King' Vanda'ar on Jul 2, 2010 7:51:30 GMT -5
This bolstered more laughter from Voltaire, "A very good point, what do they call you then? A name would be nice so I know what to call you." He idly began to play with the silver cuff around his wrist while waiting for the other man to reply. It was almost nice to have new company, as strange as he was, it was something new, and new was good. Fresh blood was important, and if the man had no place, then perhaps, his place would become here. However, every story has two sides, the man seemed unpredictable, and that was dangerous.
"You can call me Voltaire." He added on a mere moment later.
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Post by Nathan (Norade) & Kennith on Jul 2, 2010 7:58:24 GMT -5
"I haven't been called much more than 'you there' or 'that insane fellow' for a while now. Though the name Kenneth seems to fit me, rather as if it were tailored to rest about my shoulders and crown... Voltaire seems to suit you as well..." He seems a bit more lucid now than before, as if his full blown episodes are an intense, but not lasting state.
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Post by Voltaire 'The King' Vanda'ar on Jul 3, 2010 13:43:28 GMT -5
"Well Kenneth, Welcome to the Ca'rion State. Pray tell what brings you out my way, you don't look as though you are from the desert. Nor do you appear to be a criminal." he said softly, watching the other man.
What is your intent Kenneth? What brings you to my abode? My kingdom? He thought to himself trying to establish the other mans motives for coming to the sun and sand blasted hell. It wasn't long before Cecilia returned with a cart carrying a cast iron tea kettle and two what appeared to be bone cups, the designs on the side of them were very ornate suns. Cecilia poured each one of them a cup leaving the cart there and scurrying off.
Just as she was leaving Voltaire turned around and called out to her, "Cecilia, Dear. Thank you." and he blew the little girl a kiss, she curtsied and left the room a smile on her face.
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