Post by SirThanatos on Jul 10, 2004 12:55:29 GMT -5
Once again he found himself toiling over chain mail, this time it was upon his own metal shirt..adding another layer just over the chest, and thro the armpits..something to offer him a bit more protection in these vital areas. True, would add weight, but better a bit heavy, than a bit preforated!
As he worked his mind journeyed elsewhere...from all accounts, the Frank's were so close he could smell them..heard rumor that a few were within the castle walls seeking Audience with the King. He pondered briefly how such a meeting might go..."Release my man!" ..response, "Over his dead body!" He shook his head, why were politics always thus? But in his limited visits with the King, he had found the man to be quite different than he expected.
He knew by rumor, and by a one time personal viewing, that the King had a temper when provoked...yet at the same time, could be fairly reasonable at unexpected moments. He wondered which would prevail at any Audience that was Granted.
The Franks he knew were beyond reasoning with, vicious killers not needing much provocation at all, and utterly without Mercy! He hoped that this time might be different, but he would not count on it for sure! Thus his toiling with his armor, and blade..he had sharped his hand and a half sword to an edge so fine, that a man could shave with it, rebalanced the hilt with new sand from a pouch he had in his belongings, and smiled as the blade made a soft whisper as it cut thro the air in his rooms. If blood were to be spilled, then he would make sure more Frankish blood flowed then Welsh blood!!
As he lay aside the chainmail shirt and resheathed his blade, he thought of Lady Rayven...he did not like the idea that harm may come to her, he also knew that should any threaten her, their lives would be forfiet so fast that the man would die not knowing what had become of himself! Something along the lines of.."Being in Hell a full half candlemark, before Satan even knew he had died!"
His feelings for the Lady were becoming obvious of course...he had caught the looks that other women had given them, the coy smile, the "look away" syndrome that happened occassionally. He grinned at the memory.
But for now, such things needed to come secondary to the Frankish Threat that now penetrated the whole Realm..there would be ample time to explore where this was taking he and the Lady, once the Franks were dispatched from Windstorm's Borders...
So he placed his "game face" upon his countenance, and became what he was by Profession....A Bladesman of some Renown and Skill....
Looking up at the window, he softly spoke a short phrase...
"For King and Lands, Death be a small Price!"
As he worked his mind journeyed elsewhere...from all accounts, the Frank's were so close he could smell them..heard rumor that a few were within the castle walls seeking Audience with the King. He pondered briefly how such a meeting might go..."Release my man!" ..response, "Over his dead body!" He shook his head, why were politics always thus? But in his limited visits with the King, he had found the man to be quite different than he expected.
He knew by rumor, and by a one time personal viewing, that the King had a temper when provoked...yet at the same time, could be fairly reasonable at unexpected moments. He wondered which would prevail at any Audience that was Granted.
The Franks he knew were beyond reasoning with, vicious killers not needing much provocation at all, and utterly without Mercy! He hoped that this time might be different, but he would not count on it for sure! Thus his toiling with his armor, and blade..he had sharped his hand and a half sword to an edge so fine, that a man could shave with it, rebalanced the hilt with new sand from a pouch he had in his belongings, and smiled as the blade made a soft whisper as it cut thro the air in his rooms. If blood were to be spilled, then he would make sure more Frankish blood flowed then Welsh blood!!
As he lay aside the chainmail shirt and resheathed his blade, he thought of Lady Rayven...he did not like the idea that harm may come to her, he also knew that should any threaten her, their lives would be forfiet so fast that the man would die not knowing what had become of himself! Something along the lines of.."Being in Hell a full half candlemark, before Satan even knew he had died!"
His feelings for the Lady were becoming obvious of course...he had caught the looks that other women had given them, the coy smile, the "look away" syndrome that happened occassionally. He grinned at the memory.
But for now, such things needed to come secondary to the Frankish Threat that now penetrated the whole Realm..there would be ample time to explore where this was taking he and the Lady, once the Franks were dispatched from Windstorm's Borders...
So he placed his "game face" upon his countenance, and became what he was by Profession....A Bladesman of some Renown and Skill....
Looking up at the window, he softly spoke a short phrase...
"For King and Lands, Death be a small Price!"