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> [RP] Mortimer Castle

Drestakil
'Patience,' Dres thought to himself, 'let the young man tell his tale. I am very interested in this development. If he is telling the truth, a journey to speak to this Ignatius and, perhaps, run him through for his treatment of family, will be due.'
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Ladygina
Jarlath wrote:
"A man called Ignatius kidnapped her, and then took her back to his home in Dover. However she was pregnant and the stress caused her to give birth. Unfortunately she died doing so, which prevented me from finding this out for some time. Anyway, Ignatius raised me as a son, and until about a year ago I thought I was his. Then I found out the doctors story from his daughter, and everything changed for me.."
"I went to Ignatius when he got back from his trip, and he said he should have killed me after throwing that token at my feet.. I didn't know what to do, so I just took it and left. I've been looking for my real family since."


As she heard the visitor tell his tale, one word stuck out...Dover. She remembered a carriage ride when she was very young....Her parents had loaded her and her sister up with all their belongings. She remembered her father saying "On to Dover". She didn't know what connection the young man before her had, but if he thought he was a Mortimer, and he was born in Dover, maybe he was a relation through her Mother or Father. Her curiosity getting the better of her, she walked toward Geo and the young man....he said his name was Jarlath. She said, "Forgive me for interrupting, but you say your Mother was taken to Dover and she gave birth to you before dying. Do you by chance know her name? Or your Father's name?"
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| Countess of Arden | Herald of Arms of the CoH | Member of the RHA |
pnj
"No, the doctor didn't say. I don't know if he even knew.. But my father is still alive somewhere, he should recognize me. He has to be, only my mother died. I still have a father somewhere!"
Realizing he had raised his voice Jarlath stopped talking, after taking a few deep breaths he looked at the woman. Feeling ashamed he apologized, hoping they wouldn't think too badly of him.
Kennagillian
Kenna hung back after nodding at Gina, searching her father's face and then her uncles, stepping back to stand closer to Drest. Kenna watched Gina almost float forward. There was something odd in the air, she felt sick to her stomach fromt he sudden tension, or maybe it was from not eating breakfast this morning. She shivered at the mention of the name Ignatius. The way the boy said it, the truths he was telling, it was so real for him that it was becoming real for her. Since she knew nothing, she thought it best to stay quiet...

Silently she took her Uncle's arm to steady herself. Beginning to feel a little worried.
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Viceroy
Viceroy dropped his book and stood up quickly. Reaching for his sword, he said, "You know where Ignatius is? He was rumored to be dead. Gone from this mortal peril. Quick, check to make sure he wasn't followed. This is not a conversation to be had in public. I will explain more inside."
pnj
"Ignatius is still in Dover as far as I know, though I've been gone for a year or more. Why does it matter?"
Not sure why he was doing so Jarlath stood up and started to walk in side, Viceroy had sounded serious even if Jarlath didn't know why. Hoping he wasn't part of some sick joke Jarlath waited for Civeroy, having gone in ahead of him.
Ladygina
As she saw Geo stand and reach for his sword, her heart leapt into her throat! Confusion showing on her face, she could but inside as Geo ordered them all out of the public eye. Not sure what was going on, she wondered who this Ignatius person was...but she couldn't help but still wonder how this young man before them fit into her family!
Once she was inside, she looked at the young man again, and asked, more sternly this time,
"You say your Father is still alive. What is his name?"
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| Countess of Arden | Herald of Arms of the CoH | Member of the RHA |
Drestakil
As Viceroy stood up and pulled out his sword, Drestakil patted Kenna's hand reassuringly. "Don't worry about a thing. Usually, if you take half the precautions Viceroy thinks are necessary, you're perfectly safe."

He motioned Kenna to follow Gina and Jarlath. "Brother, I think I'll take a stroll around the grounds." Viceroy nodded as he scanned the area around them. "I'll join you inside."
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Kennagillian
Hurrying along, not wanting to be left alone, Kenna found herself walking behind the boy. Whispering she told her uncle she wanted him to be safe. She turned back and looked this visitor over for a second, not sure what she was seeing, but knowing that from the reaction of the elder men of the household, that she was correct in her estimation that something was wrong. The name had caused her father to flinch, two pairs of hands to hold swords, and Gina was ever prying still. Names, she wanted names, and Kenna had never seen her act so out of place.

None of it made sense, if this Ignatius had lied so often, taken a woman with chid from her home and in turn raised this boy, what business was it of theirs? As it seemed to her, they would be better off rid of him before...

She suddenly realized. Her eyes flashed to her father. He knew the name and knew that whatever folly was fortold from this lads mouth would fall upon them, if not soon. She need not know why or how this had happened, she could see the urgency in his brow and the meaningful panic in his eyes. Her heart started pounding.

Upstairs in the chest at the foot of her bed, her sword laid at rest, never touched again since the battle of Birmingham. Whatever was coming, she could see in his eyes that she would soon be dusting the sleep from it's blade.

Taking a quiet seat in the room they gathered in, Kenna passed a leary glance to Gina.

Looking now to her father she spoke low "What is it father? Please tell us.." she clasped her hands in her lap.
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pnj
Hearing her ask about his father again Jarlath wondered what she expected of him. "I don't know his name, ok? I never even met him.. I thought Ignatius was my father until a year or so ago, how would I know my real father?"
Hoping that she wouldn't ask him again he looked around at Viceroy. He looked like he knew something, and Jarlath wanted to know what, even if his blunt questions would offend.
"What is it that you know? Who would be following me? Ignatius hasn't seen me in so long, why think I was followed. You know something, and I have a right to know it too."
Guessing that Viceroy wouldn't give a straight answer Jarlath resigned himself to ignorance. But it was still better to have asked than been left wondering what would have happened if he had asked.
Ladygina
She had watched Drest go outside and knew he was scanning the grounds to assure this visitor had not been followed. She was afraid of what, or who, they thought might be out there, and she did not know why she was afraid...

Jarlath wrote:
"I don't know his name, ok? I never even met him.. I thought Ignatius was my father until a year or so ago, how would I know my real father?"


Feeling her knees go weak, she sat down. He did not know who his real parents were. How was this going to help them to know who he was, or how he was related to them, IF he was indeed a Mortimer. He carried the token. She had seen him show it to Geo. How else would he have that token if he were not family. Unless he had taken from someone.......
It just really ate at her mind because he looked so familiar. She knew that she had never seen him before, but his face......she had seen that face before. She had to know! She felt as if she was being pulled to him for some reason....and it was making her sick to her stomach. She had never felt this tug before.....except when she saw someone in the market one day that resembled her sister....


Jarlath wrote:
"What is it that you know? Who would be following me? Ignatius hasn't seen me in so long, why think I was followed. You know something, and I have a right to know it too."


She noted the frustration in his voice and she knew how it felt, for she was frustrated herself, knowing that she should know why his face looks so familiar, but not knowing why.....she could not stand this feeling! Seeing Kenna look at her, she tried to convey her feelings with her eyes, but did not know if Kenna could read her that well......
She waited to see what else was revealed....

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| Countess of Arden | Herald of Arms of the CoH | Member of the RHA |
Viceroy
Viceroy nodded towards Drestakil as his brother went to check. Once everyone was inside, he turned to them. "That name... I have not heard in a long time, but he is not one that anyone wants to cross. If you even hear a hint of the name, make sure you know where your weapon is. He is not to be trifled with. It started many years ago and if he had a chance, he would surely love a try at putting a sword through myself and the precious daughter he never had a chance to kill. It is imperative, boy, to tell everything you know of this man. It was thought he was killed years ago. Michael told me that it would be safe again, but if he is alive... he has a score to settle that should have everyone on their toes... especially you Kenna if... he knew...," Viceroy said pouring it all out. He looked around.

"If he let you go... he may have done it to hunt us down. He's done it before and then slaughters the so called 'rat'. Happened to a friend of mine years ago. He was found gutted like a fish," he said shaking his head. His sword was in his hands, his ears listening, and his heart pumping out blood much faster than it had in a while.
pnj
"What? He's a murderer too? No.. That can't be true..."
A look of pain crossed Jarlaths face. He had grown up with Ignatius teaching him everything, with Ignatius loving him every day. Ignatius might have lied, but Jarlath had never even thought he would kill someone deliberately. Jarlath had always thought he had just said those words in anger..
"Alright, I'll tell you what I remember. He went away every few weeks, but never for more than three days. Even until I left he was fitter than anyone else I knew, and the best woodsman in the village too. He would hunt deer often, killing them only with a knife. He didn't even need a bow..."
Looking into Viceroys eyes Jarlath saw something he had seen in Ignatius eyes, pain and experience. Jarlath had often asked him why he always looked so sad, but he just replied 'I miss your mother boy, she didn't deserve that.' He then changed the subject, preventing any further questions.
"He taught be everything I know, enough that I've lived off what I kill for the last year. And yet I only know a fraction of what he does. If he wanted to kill a man... Then that man would be as good as dead. The Watch caught me one time, when I was hunting on a lords land. But Ignatius just knocked them all out in a fight, I doubt they even knew he was there until the fell.."[/b]
--Ignatius_casimir
He looked at the sleek black mane of his horse as he sat in the saddle starring over the hilltop, watching her breath in the night air, big puffs of white in the chill. He had been thinking of his wife as he often did when the sun set and the darkness fell. Always it was of their conversations, things they said before she had been taken from him. Mostly he thought about the way her hair fell in it’s perfect places, how her hands had been so wonderfully soft when he’d been blessed enough to hold them. He thought about how her belly had been so swollen carrying his children, how he’d teased her about being afraid to let their babes sleep without her at their side. She used to reach over him in the night and pull his arm around her, he’d wake to feel her pulling in closer to him because he’d fell asleep waiting for her to come to bed.

Tonight the memories were so far away. The only things he could think about were his dreams. The dreams of what would have been had she lived now. Had his son’s grown into men, had they not smothered in the flames instead. He thought about all the things he would have taught them, the nights he could have taken his wife to the shore line to sit and talk while the children played in the fields. How he would have given up the life of a soldier and moved them far out into the country. He would have farmed corn fields and raised animals, explain life and death in such a way that his children would never chose the path he was now forced to live.

He felt guilt more than he felt the blood that rushed in his veins. He wanted to be rid of it all. He had been just a boy when he’d had to watch his own father die at the hands of criminals. Criminals who wanted weapons to murder men. He had run, as his father said to, he had been running his whole life. Marrying into a dream he was never deserving of, loving children he would never hold again, believing that an honest man could make a difference in a world that wanted nothing more than to destroy him simply because they had the power to do so.

She was the one who told him to put an end to the tyranny. She said she could see that he would be the only man to set things straight. Their neighbors starving, their fields withering, pompous council members ignoring their people upon the orders of an obese King, gorged with wealth and provisions who turned a blind eye to the people dying in the streets. In the end, he had not been there to even save her. A false prophet. Mocked by the King’s Calvary, led by a boy with the spine of a coward.

He’d come in the night, with his men, in the shadows. While his wife slept, and his three boys lay peacefully resting in her bed, his men were killed and burned. The whole camp, nothing but ashes. He’d found all of his life crumpled in piles of white and glowing red embers, nothing left except for the food rations he dropped from his arms onto the ground, the same ground that his knees hit when his heart felt as though it were ripped from his chest.

It had taken months, but he’d been drinking in a tavern, contemplating his next move when a loud mouth knacker found his way to a seat a few tables over. He had ordered one too many, which seemed to be his purpose. Then he started talking about drinking instead of drinking. Was angry about being told he couldn’t do it well enough and still complete his missions, that his captain had sent him away by threatening to tell his wife about his mistress if he didn’t stay quiet. A few of the local patrons began to grow weary of his speeches, but he’d said something about knowing more than he should. It was enough to know he knew something, enough to follow him to the stables. Enough to watch him stagger into the building and not be able to climb his horse. Enough to spin him around and ask him to explain his story or else lose the tongue he’d been wagging all night.

It seemed as if all time stood still, as if the hinges of earth rusted through and would never open again when all the truths finally dripped out of him. After leaving him to drown in them on the floor of the stables, Ignatius cleaned away the blood from his dagger and had everything he needed to begin his hunt. Names of men whose hands had set into motion acts of murder without regard. A new chapter in his life that he would write with his sword. A tale of revenge that would end in peace of mind. A false prophets moment of redemption.

And so it began. The scars on his face and hands told everyone who looked upon them that his mission bore them better lest they leave him be. There was only one man left that he wanted. Only one man who had seemingly faded from every part of his own life. It was infuriating to the point that he’d done everything to draw him out, not believing that he’d truly let his own family be cut like the trash from milk. He’d called out a bounty, had mercenaries searching all of England and parts of Scotland even then he still could not find him. The trail had grown cold after two of his hired men had found his house abandoned, full of nothing but clothes. A year later, a brother in law with the same kind of mouth as the drunkard he’d put to death in the stables, wrote out the addresses of everyone of his wife’s relations. One by one, Ignatius would not stop until one of them told him where the man was that he wanted.

Geoffrey Mortimer. The man who took the orders to end his life, and in his ignorance, accomplished as much without ever touching him. He was living and Ignatius wanted nothing more than to see to it that he was stripped of all that he loved. He wanted to see his face reflect his pain. He wanted to use his own sword to dig out the heart he knew could not possibly be there. Only then could he finally rest…

So close now, he could taste it, so near to his desire.

He’d wait until morning, wait for the boy to finish his trip, and then if things went as planned…

He’d settle this once and for all.
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Ladygina
Listening to Viceroy speak of this Ignatius made her sick to her stomach. To know that someone was out to kill her family, sent chills down her spine that she knew would not go away for some time to come. She watched the young man speak and saw the pain in his eyes as he learned that the man he thought was his father, was nothing more than a monster. A monster whose thirst for blood, it would seem, would only be quenched when it was Mortimer blood that was spilled.
Feeling a rush of compassion for this young man before them, she stood and spoke to her cousin, quietly, for she did not really know what to say.
"Geo, if what this young man says is true, and he is indeed a Mortimer, from whatever relation, and he bears the token as proof, should we not, as his family, give him shelter? If what you believe is true, and this man, Ignatius, is searching for us, and possibly had someone follow...." Looking at the young man, she said, "Jarlath is it?" ... Looking back at Geo, she continued, "If they are looking for him, we should protect him, as we would protect any other member of our family. Even if they followed him here, to our home, we should not send him away, to possibly meet this man on the road. We should let him stay here, until we can find out the truth, and make sure Ignatius is no longer a threat. Do you not agree Cousin?" Searching Geo's eyes, she silently pleads with Geo not to send Jarlath away. For some reason that she cannot put her finger on, she feels.....drawn to this young man. So familiar.....
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| Countess of Arden | Herald of Arms of the CoH | Member of the RHA |
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