The Hand of the Princess

Started by Wylder Treejumper, February 13, 2016, 03:00:59 AM

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Wylder Treejumper

   Sir Fenric Galante smiled as he gazed out from the castle ramparts over the land of Southsward. The sun, sinking beyond the Western horizon, bathed the land in a warm orange glow. Far below, the windows in the town began to light up as the townsbeasts lit lanterns for the night. He shook his head. He still couldn't believe the events of the day.
   
"Please, Fen," Leahna entreated, "Go in and talk to my father. He is thinking about betrothing me to Count Captic. I could never marry him." She shuddered. "He'll listen to you; he trusts you. You did save his life once!"
   "But, Leana, who am I to council
the King? What would I tell him?"
   She winked at him. "I'm sure you'll figure it out. Tell him I'll marry who I choose, and no one else."
   For a brief moment, sorrow flashed across his face. "And who would that be?" he assayed.
   "Well, it would have to be someone that I trust, who's a wonderful person, who treats me like a real person, not just like a method to the throne..." She reached out and took his paw. "Someone like... You, perhaps."
   "Me?" he asked incredulously.
   "Yes, you." She laughed. "Now, go and talk to my father. I
command it."
   He smiled and bowed. "As you wish, Your Highness. What can I do but obey your command?"

   
And, for some unfathomable reason,  King Ayorn II had listened to him. A counselor to the King, a confidant (and perhaps more) to the Princess... And here he was, on guard duty, patrolling the battlements.
He'd never understand life, he decided. It was too full of contradictions.
"'Tis the business of small minds to shrink, but he whose heart is firm, and whose conscience approves his conduct, will pursue his principles unto death."
-Thomas Paine

"Integrity and firmness is all I can promise; these, be the voyage long or short, shall never forsake me although I may be deserted by all men."
-George Washington

Courage: Not only the willingness to die manfully, but also the determination to live decently.

LT Sandpaw


"Count? Sir might I come in?" Captic who was reclining on a puffy sofa in his private quarters opened his eyes. He recognized the voice easily enough, his faithful Sir Belvonal a knight of the house of Flint. A loyal and dutiful creature Belvonal was the only one Captic confided in and trusted unconditionally. Grunting slightly Captic sat up straightening his tunic.

"Enter," Belvonal entered looking decidedly grave. He bobbed his head in a quick bow before approaching Captic.

"Sir I come bearing grave news."

"What!" Captic said in a unexpected temper. "Is it those bloody peasants revolting again? By the great bell I gave them more then enough leeway to keep their food. Surely they wouldn't be foolish enough to try my patience again?"

"No sir, it isn't that."

"Well then what is it? Did the south wall fall or something?"

"Sir the king has given his solemn promise that Princess Leana can marry whoever she pleases." Belvonal said in a rush. Captic felt a cold chill run up his spine as he stood, horror marked on his face.

"But... How? No! She will reject me? How did he. Surely he didn't."

"One of the castle knights a squirrel, Sir Fenric I believe, argued with him. Apparently he is well trusted in the castle and the king listened." Shock melted into fury as Captic jumped to his footpaws buckling on his saber.

"Belvonal I shall find this Fenric a make sure he understands what he has ruined. He had no business consulting the king on such matters. Where is he?"

"Guard duty sir." Motioning for Belvonal to follow Captic led the way down the castle. Both squirrel's had their paws on their sword hilts and their cloaks swished behind them as they moved quickly though the castle halls. After asking a few guards where Fenric was, and traversing half of the wall they spotted a squirrel standing alone, looking out over the battlements.

"Hoy sir knight, are you the squirrel that calls himself Fenric?" Captic called in a cold voice.


"Sometimes its not about winning, but how you lose." - John Gwynne

"Facts don't care about your feelings." -Ben Shapiro

Wylder Treejumper

 Fenric turned, and saw the Count. He appeared not in good humor, but that seemed a usual enough mood among Lords, and although he had never met the Count before, it seemed- and Princess Leana confirmed- that Captic was no exception. No wonder she didn't want to marry him. He stiffened himself to attention and bowed according to accepted protocol, although not very deeply, as the strung longbow slung across his back allowed little enough freedom of movement that way. "Indeed. Sir Fenric Galante, of the King's Royal Guard, at your service, m'lord." He wondered why the Count wished to see him; given the events of the day, it seemed unlikely to be for any commendation. He noted the saber at the Count's side, and his paw inched towards his sword hilt.

He had a uncomfortable feeling that the staggering events of the day were not yet over.
"'Tis the business of small minds to shrink, but he whose heart is firm, and whose conscience approves his conduct, will pursue his principles unto death."
-Thomas Paine

"Integrity and firmness is all I can promise; these, be the voyage long or short, shall never forsake me although I may be deserted by all men."
-George Washington

Courage: Not only the willingness to die manfully, but also the determination to live decently.

LT Sandpaw


His paw flying to his sword hilt Captic braced himself to jump upon the knight who stood so calm. His sword was a few inches out of his sheath when a strong paw stayed his. Captic turned his head in shock to see Belvonal holding his paw down.

"Sir!" The knight hissed his eyes wide. "Sir please control yourself, please talk with me a moment." He pointed a claw at Fenric glaring at him. "Sir Fenric remain where you are, we shall return in a moment." Belvonal pushing the limits of his and Captic's friendship half dragged the furious count a short distance away whispering urgently. "Sir please forgive me, but the king will never forgive you killing one of his knights."

"He... He.... He ruined everything!" Captic spat in fury his fur standing on end, still Belvonal was right. There was no way he would get away with striking down one of the castle guards.

"Sir he insulted your honor did he not?" Belvonal insisted keeping hold of Captic's paw.

"Yes..."

"Then challenge him, humiliate him in front of the king, and the princess. Show your worth as an honorable count of Southsward." Belvonal's words made sense. Captic's eyes shone with a new light as he wrenched his paw away.

"My friend, you have shown yourself to be a truly wise creature. Come as witness." Turning Captic marched over to where Fenric stood. The red squirrel squared his shoulders and pulled off his right glove. "Sir Fenric, I challenge you to a duel of honor, for an inexcusable insult. Do you accept?" That said the count swung the glove striking Fenric in the muzzle.


"Sometimes its not about winning, but how you lose." - John Gwynne

"Facts don't care about your feelings." -Ben Shapiro

Wylder Treejumper

Fenric's suspicions proved to be right, although he was slightly startled when the furious Count reached for his sword. Subtly shifting his stance, he dropped into a combat position and began to draw his sword, although he quickly sheathed it and returned to attention when Sir Belvonal interfered. He watched with apprehension as the knight talked to the clearly enraged Count.

"He... He.... He ruined everything!"

Fenric wrinkled his nose in distaste. Some nobles. Never thinking of anything but themselves and their ambitions. Clearly he had never thought of how he would ruin everything for the Princess had he gotten his way. Sometimes he wondered what nobles were good for...

Then felt a thrill of adrenaline as the Count walked back, eyes blazing. He tightened his grip on his shield.

The red squirrel squared his shoulders and pulled off his right glove. "Sir Fenric, I challenge you to a duel of honor, for an inexcusable insult. Do you accept?" That said the count swung the glove striking Fenric in the muzzle.

Fenric snarled, then righted his helmet. Blood boiling, he replied, "Indeed, Count Captic, I accept, and I shall see that you get all that you deserve." He bowed ironically. "I would ask what this unacceptable insult is, seeing as I have never met you as of previously, but I suppose that would be above my... station." Silently, he vowed then and there that this arrogant, self-centered lord would receive humiliation for humiliation for all that he had done to Princess Leana. "And where and when would you prefer to have this 'duel of honor'? I'm unfortunately not able to oblige you now, as I am doing my duty protecting the King. However, I believe your Lordship would be most well disposed to dueling in a private closet, as there would be no bothersome spectators. If it should favor you, I can supply you with one..." He said with mock deference.
"'Tis the business of small minds to shrink, but he whose heart is firm, and whose conscience approves his conduct, will pursue his principles unto death."
-Thomas Paine

"Integrity and firmness is all I can promise; these, be the voyage long or short, shall never forsake me although I may be deserted by all men."
-George Washington

Courage: Not only the willingness to die manfully, but also the determination to live decently.

LT Sandpaw


Flexing his claws and pulling his black glove back on the count considered for a moment before shaking his head. "No, evening is upon us, dueling in the dark of night, or hidden away is the sign of a coward. One can flee and lay claim to falsehoods. I would not think you a coward Sir Fenric, yet your recent actions may state otherwise. Continue your duties to the king, tomorrow at sun high we shall fight with the full court as witness. Swords, wit, and strength our only weapons." Turning Captic strutted away calling over his shoulder as he went. "Sir Fenric, I shall make sure the king is well informed, you needn't worry about telling him. I shall have everything set and ready. All you must do is find your way to the court yard, evening."

Even as Captic marched away to speak with the king he felt the anger wash away. Behind him Belvonal followed but Captic hardly noticed the knight. Tomorrow he would defeat the Fenric and take pleasure in defeating the squirrel who ruined his plans. Mayhap he wouldn't even kill him, only force him to yield, and perhaps once the princess saw his fighting prowess and mercy she would be won over.

She would choose him herself. Victory would be absolute.


OOC: Time skip to duel?


"Sometimes its not about winning, but how you lose." - John Gwynne

"Facts don't care about your feelings." -Ben Shapiro

Wylder Treejumper

OOC: Sure. I'll just double post to give Fenric a response.

BIC: Fenric grimaced, rolled his eyes, and turned back to his patrol. Choleric, arrogant, and dumb. The perfect storm. he was triply grateful to Leana for saving him from such a king. Not only had the Count missed the veiled intimation that he was a coward, but he thought that he, Fenric, was a coward.

The fool would get what was coming to him on the morrow. In the meanwhile, he had his duty to perform.
"'Tis the business of small minds to shrink, but he whose heart is firm, and whose conscience approves his conduct, will pursue his principles unto death."
-Thomas Paine

"Integrity and firmness is all I can promise; these, be the voyage long or short, shall never forsake me although I may be deserted by all men."
-George Washington

Courage: Not only the willingness to die manfully, but also the determination to live decently.

LT Sandpaw


Morning light lighted upon the cobblestones of Castle Floret's court yard. Several rows of benches had been laid out along with a raised dais where the king, two of his guard, and princess Leana sat. Everybeast looked uncomfortable, and as more courtiers, knights, and castle staff filled the benches they grew even more uneasy.

Even Captic looked less then pleased, his red fur clean and glossy. He wore a chainmail shirt with a blue tunic over it. His sword lay next to him gleaming in the early morning light. After having informed the king of the impending battle, he and Belvonal had spent the remaining evening hours learning all they could about Fenric. What they learned had been less then pleasing.

Keeping a forced smile on his face Captic attempted several times to strike up a conversation with Leana but was downright ignored. Finally irritated at being made to wait Captic hopped from his seat sword in paw down into the space marked out for the fight looking around in mock confusion.

"Where are you Sir Fenric? Have you forfeited your honor by refusing to reveal yourself?" Having said those words Captic felt his confidence slowly returning. Perhaps he would win without having to even raise his sword.


"Sometimes its not about winning, but how you lose." - John Gwynne

"Facts don't care about your feelings." -Ben Shapiro

Wylder Treejumper

Armor gleaming, Fenric strode into the arena. He was clad in his own chain-and-plate armor, a gift from the King upon his appointment to the Royal Guard, with a simple surcoat of quartered blue and white, the heraldic colors he had chosen upon his knighting. His sword hung on its worn swordbelt. Overnight, his anger had cooled, and he felt mostly contempt and pity for the Count. The beast was so wrapped up in himself that he failed to see what was right in front of his eyes. Fenric determined that he would be fair with him, enough to show the world what the Count actually was, and to prove that the nobles did not have a monopoly on nobility.

Carrying his helmet under his right arm, he ignored Count Captic and strode up to the royal box. He bowed before the King. "Your Highness, I hope you will pardon me for having disturbed you with our quarrel."

The old king nodded. "I understand this was a matter of honor; I will always support the honor of my knights and lords."

He turned and bowed to the Princess. "Indeed I am sorry for spoiling a morning almost as beautiful as yourself with the clash of swords, Your Highness. I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me." A ghost of a smile appeared on his face.

She smiled sweetly back at him. "I really don't think I will, Sir Knight." Then, turning serious, she bent over towards him and removed a red silk handkerchief from her sleeve. "Please, Fen, be careful." She tied it tightly around his left arm. "Captic is a dangerous creature. I really never would forgive you if he hurt you."

He bowed deeply and said with mock courtliness, "Fear not, fair lady, thy champion shall return unharmed."

He turned, carefully placed his helmet on his head, and marched towards the Count. "Count Captic Flint, you are hereby conjured to duel over a matter of honor! Step forward to exercise your right, or forever hold your peace."
"'Tis the business of small minds to shrink, but he whose heart is firm, and whose conscience approves his conduct, will pursue his principles unto death."
-Thomas Paine

"Integrity and firmness is all I can promise; these, be the voyage long or short, shall never forsake me although I may be deserted by all men."
-George Washington

Courage: Not only the willingness to die manfully, but also the determination to live decently.

LT Sandpaw


Snapping his mouth closed Captic adjusted his stance to look more stately. How could the princess be so drawn to such a lowly creature. Sure Fenric looked rather dashing in full armor, yet still a commoner held no place in a royal court. Swallowing a sharp retort Captic stepped forward feeling he was outmatched in the protection department.

His own simple chainmail tunic descended past his knees, however he had no head or arm protection. And the back of his neck also felt decidedly unprotected. A short cough sounded behind him and he turned his head to see Belvonal.

"Sir, your helm?" Captic felt a sense of gratitude to the squirrel nodding towards his friend. The knight summoned a Page dressed in the Count's colors who hurriedly presented Captic with a helmet. Recognizing it to be Belvonal's Captic let a small smile flicker to his lips before tucking it under his elbow.

"Is the count fully dressed? Or should we hold this battle of honor until he is prepared?" Leana said sweetly looking down on him from the dais. Bowing Captic smiled back once again wondering how she could prefer a commoner.

"I am ready my lady. It is for your honor that I fight today. Perhaps you do not know Sir Fenric as well as you think." Turning away from her Captic strode across to where Fenric stood fitting the helmet onto his head. Holding out his paw to grasp his opponents Captic couldn't resist a quick jab.

"What is thy secret Sir Fenric? The princess seems truly attached to your good looks, or mayhap it is thy uncontested flare. Perhaps once they are changed after today she will come to her senses. No?" Speaking in a louder voice Captic called out so the whole court could hear.
"I am here to exercise my right as a noble of Southsward to protect my honor, for an inexcusable insult Sir Fenric Gallante instigated. As chivalry demands we must battle until the other yields, or falls. I give you Fenric one chance to apologize now to save yourself from injury or worse. Do so and I shall never bring up the question of your honor, for it will be shown you have none. Do you accept Sir Fenric?"


"Sometimes its not about winning, but how you lose." - John Gwynne

"Facts don't care about your feelings." -Ben Shapiro

Wylder Treejumper

 Sternly, Sir Fenric Galante stepped forward. "I recognize no such insult, Count Flint; insults are below my dignity. Nor do I need to prove my honor, it is recognized by all and the most eminent personage here. However, there remains another whose honor I will defend, and it is in their name that I accept this duel. Therefore, Count Captic Flint, I, Sir Fenric Galante, Knight of the Realm, do hereby accept your duel according to the strictures of chivalry. He who is most honorable, let him win."

Sir Galante stepped back one pace, sharply drew his sword, and placed it in the accepted stance for the start of a duel.

"'Tis the business of small minds to shrink, but he whose heart is firm, and whose conscience approves his conduct, will pursue his principles unto death."
-Thomas Paine

"Integrity and firmness is all I can promise; these, be the voyage long or short, shall never forsake me although I may be deserted by all men."
-George Washington

Courage: Not only the willingness to die manfully, but also the determination to live decently.

LT Sandpaw


"Have you no shame? It is more insulting that you will not accept what you did is an insult. Perhaps this could have been avoided if you hadn't meddled in affairs that did not concern you. I had no wish to harm you knight, and even now I wish to end this quickly and shed as little of your blood as possible. It does not become creatures like us to be battling each other, however this is now unavoidable. So if you are ready, let us begin." Captic replied his voice cold as he raised his drawn sword. Aligning himself to Fenric the count mirrored the salute before lowering the tip so the it clinked softly with Fenric's.

Captic waited, he knew Fenric was skilled with the sword, and that battling him would require a level head and patience. Keeping his body loose, and his jaw set the squirrel waited for the knight to make the first move.


"Sometimes its not about winning, but how you lose." - John Gwynne

"Facts don't care about your feelings." -Ben Shapiro

LT Sandpaw



"Sometimes its not about winning, but how you lose." - John Gwynne

"Facts don't care about your feelings." -Ben Shapiro

Wylder Treejumper

Fenric tapped the Count's sword to start the duel, then settled into his dueling stance. He probed the counts defenses for a bit, feinting left, feinting right, keeping low and centered. Exposing oneself at the beginning of a duel is a beginners mistake. He took a quick jab at the Count, which was met by a strong parry.

Fenric nodded. The Count was a reasonably capable swordsman, although Flint hadn't the experience in battle that he did. The Count was also better trained in individual dueling, because nobles rarely fought battles themselves.

Suddenly, he straightened himself up, and took a short, powerful slash at the count in octave, hoping to catch him by surprise and perhaps overwhelm his defenses.
"'Tis the business of small minds to shrink, but he whose heart is firm, and whose conscience approves his conduct, will pursue his principles unto death."
-Thomas Paine

"Integrity and firmness is all I can promise; these, be the voyage long or short, shall never forsake me although I may be deserted by all men."
-George Washington

Courage: Not only the willingness to die manfully, but also the determination to live decently.

LT Sandpaw

 
Sliding his footpaws across the ground Captic forced himself to retreat avoiding the heavy slice. The sword tip whistled past his nose making the count wince. Bracing himself Captic pulled his sword back and preformed a counter repost towards his opponent's wrist.

A click sounded as his saber blade bounced off Fenric's guard, he had recovered his defensive stance swiftly, taking advantage of Captic's small hesitation. Faster then Captic could respond the knight's sword shot out in an attack slicing though a small bit of fabric. Hopping backwards Captic recovered running a paw across the scratched chainmail. No damage done.

Licking his lips Captic kept up a steady retreat slowly moving away from Fenric. His opponent was fast, and accurate with the sword. If he wanted to win he would have to strike from a distance. For a moment Captic's eyes flickered towards Fenric's bushy tail. A squirrel's tail was always a viable target. Unarmored, and an easy shot. But do so in a duel of honor would be scorned. Even Captic couldn't swoop that low.

Changing tactics and hoping to throw Fenric off the count suddenly stopped his retreat and flunged forward, feinting towards the head before swiping once again at Fenric's wrist.


"Sometimes its not about winning, but how you lose." - John Gwynne

"Facts don't care about your feelings." -Ben Shapiro