Year 487 Summer Campaign

[GM Craig]

"You have distinctly unmannerly ways of seeking it. Make good use of my attention for the brief time you will have it."

[Geoffrey]

"King Uther sent us here to invite you to meet him in Lindsay.  If we returned and told him you would see him when you had the leisure time, he would take that as a failure on our part and possibly an insult on yours.  Just as I expect you would take it were the roles reversed.

I have come to request that you allow us to join you and your men on your assault of the Saxon's.  Let us prove our mettle in battle and gain your favor, and perhaps even an agreement to return with us to meet with King Uther.

If we fail to impress, or fall during your victory, then you can send us on our way like whipped dogs with our tails between or legs, or take satisfaction in the knowledge that it was us and not five of your men that were cut down by Saxon axes."

[GM Craig]

[OK give me a courtesy or orate roll. Your choice.]

[Geoffrey]

Rodric Orate roll result 6 vs skill 10, success!

About freakin' time I succeeded at one of those!!!

[Valka]

Valka stood quietly at Rodric's side, her hands clear of the drum but looking around at the tent and its occupants. She caught the eye of the one knight and winked, the smallest of mischievous smirks turning up the corner of her ruby lips.

OOC: ha, nice roll!

[GM Craig]

He looks over the well-spoken Sir Rodric a moment.

"Let me be clear. I do not give a mouldy fig for what some barbarian 'king' or his warriors think of me, and I certainly do not care if they feel insulted. Your 'king' asks something I will not agree to. There will be no meeting while I have Saxons within my borders, and there is unlikely to be one once they are gone. If he is so anxious to show off whatever scheme or trinket he has, he can come and join the fight and we can talk between battles."

He pauses.

"Yet you have impressed me - a little - with your audacity and persistence. You may join my march in the morning."

He drains the cup of wine. "Now go. And if I see - or hear - you or any of your party between now and the next sunset, you will be whipped and sent packing."

[Geoffrey]

Rodric took the Praetor's words to heart and said no more.  He simply gave a slight bow, acknowledging his acceptance of the Praetor's decision, and as a thank you for his time.

Still without a word he took Valka by the arm and made ready to leave.

[Valka]

As she turned to leave on Rodric's arm, Valka added one comment in case the man sent his lieutenants to speak for him at the battlefield. Which was very plausible, considering how difficult it was to gain his audience during peacetime.

"Praetor, if the drumming is pleasing to you at a normal hour, I offer its services to your march. To inspire your men and bring fear into the hearts of the Saxons. Otherwise it will remain silent as you wish."

[GM Craig]

You are escorted from the tent, and all the way back to your quarters. Valka makes eyes at one of the knights, and he blushes but otherwise does not respond.

You note that half the guards that escorted you remain nearby once you have been "released," though they stay some distance away to give you a little privacy.

[Valka]

Valka entered their quarters first, her feet nearly dancing across the dirt as they carried her very cheerful self inside. She didn't utter a word as her husband and Cymric companion did whatever they were doing.

Pacing, most assuredly. Probably staring. Chomping at the bit likely.

She smiled and hummed quietly to herself.

[Cedwyn]

Cedwyn was cleaning and sharpening Witch Bane when they came in. The slink of the stone on his steel ringing in the tent.

He looked up, "Welcome back. How did it go?"

[Valka]

"Hmm?" Valka stopped twirling for a second. "Oh, the walk? Wonderful! Sir Rodric is a dutiful escort."

She looked to Arne with a mischievous smirk.

[GM Craig]

[OOC: DOn't forget Artaigne.]

[Cedwyn]

Cedwyn glanced from Valka to Rodric and offered an eyebrow up.

[Arne]

Arne matched Cedwyn's reaction, although her antics brought a grin to his face.  Most of his frustration evaporated to be replaced with amusement.  Freya take me, I've married a sorceress.  Crossing his arms across his chest, he cocked his head at an angle and said, "Dutiful, indeed.  And I know that smile well, O beloved wife of mine.  What have the two of you been up to?"