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> [RP] Mortimer Castle

Kennagillian
Kenna ran up the last flight of stairs, and found her room with ease, dropping to her knees near the chest that held her past. She flipped the lid open with in trepidation, the latch long since broken. She dug past the parchments and keepsakes and found the cold metal of her sword. Standing up she held it tightly.

She had gotten it as a gift, used it for her protection a few times. The war at Birmingham she had watched the men wield them, sweating in the fields as they practiced. Bringing them water and dressing wounds… fascinated. She was smart enough to know that any object could become a weapon if used properly, but swords… they were almost holy. The sounds they made as they hit against one another was like the clashes of clouds and thunder, the way the light reflected from the blade, almost as wondrous as the stories told of the light from angels. She took it from the chest, and held it out. She pulled it from it’s sheath, and heard the sickening slide of it’s sharpness against the dull casing. Satisfied that it was still in mint condition, she strapped on her belting and slipped the sword on at her hip.

She was back down the stairs quicker, and through the hall. She heard voices but she knew it was Gina. Before she went to her she wanted to see what news Drest had, wanted to see her father.

She pushed the doors open and looked around for Jarlath. She headed for the stables, watching the woods and the fields as she went.

Finding three men standing together instead of two Kenna approached them slowly, walking around them to look down at what they were looking at.

She saw blood, the look on the man’s face, and then looked over to see Kjolmar standing with her uncle and her father “…what happened?” she asked, catching her breath.
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Pliny
Pliny was utterly bemused by the lack of reaction to his walking into the castle grounds and his senses began to sharpen as adrenalin started to flow, his suspicious mind telling him something was wrong here. His free hand rested on his sword hilt as he headed for the stables, wanting to unencumber himself of his horse in case anything happened. There was no point him keeping the horse nearby, the stallion was utterly exhausted and good for nothing until he had had some grain and some rest.

As he entered the stables, however, he saw figures around one of the stalls and his blade left its sheath with smooth alacrity. His eyes narrowed and he slowed, stalking forwards in a battle pose, his blade to the fore, his eyes darting everywhere. He released his horse, knowing the beast would walk at his side, keeping him relatively guarded from that direction and freeing that hand to join the other on the hild of his sword. Every sense was fine-tuned and ready, his muscles were poised for fight or flight, all he needed was the stimulus.
Viceroy
"He's here, my dear daughter. Did you get Michael," he asked. Hearing a noise, he turned and raised an eyebrow.
Drestakil
"Something isn't right," Drestakil said to Viceroy and Kjolmar. Kenna walked in, sword belted around her waist, and gasped when she saw the body. "Brother, when Jarlath gets here, ask him. I'm going to go out the other end and see if anyone else is on the grounds. It might be a good idea to have someone up in the tower, keeping a watch."

Dres swiftly ran to the other end of the stables, vaulted the gate and scanned the grounds as he ran for the wall. He ran along it to the rear gate, checked with the guards that no one had come through, and swung the gate open. He was through the gate quickly, crouching as he ran for the trees.

Drestakil rapidly searched the ground for signs of horses or wagons. Nothing...he moved through the trees. His senses were trip-wire taut as he slowly moved among the trees...looking, listening, every sense extended out to its limit. 'Focus,' Dres thought to himself. He stopped, his breathing slowed, he closed his eyes, fought to calm himself. He remembered his old master telling him that anger and excitement were a man's worst enemies in battle. "If you are angry in battle, you have beaten yourself before your enemies have a chance. Calm yourself, focus on what you want, relax and your enemies have no chance."

He made his way around the wall to the front gate and entered past the guards. There were more people in the stable.
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Kennagillian
She sighed, shook her head, there was no way to make this stop just by wishing it away. She looked once more at the dead body, at her own possible fate, and wondered if she would be strong enough this time. She sent a look to her father, worried about what it was that she saw in his eyes. Reserving another time for her questions, Kenna nodded to him and tried to encourage him by hiding her own fear.

Uncle Drest announced his sudden departure, she turned to watch him go, feeling a dark feeling brewing. She didn’t want him to go off on his own, but it was his way.


So she turned to Kjolmar, rather than call after him and walked over, touching his arm lightly “Hello, excuse my confusion, this is just too much really. Surprises are usually so nice” she tried to laugh nervously, her eyes falling again to the man on the ground “..ah.. Um.. What brought you out here Lord Phoenix? truly happy you arrived, just concerned.. I am sure you can see why” she was curious, mindful of the tension but welcoming the moment of distraction. Over his shoulder she could see a man approaching. Who is that? She thought, trying to stay focused. It looked like, could it be? It looked like Pliny! Instantly she smiled, and then suddenly lost her smile thinking that Drest had just left. Then she anxiously looked at Kjolmar again, wondering if he had just noticed the unusual flick of emotion on her face.
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Pliny
Pliny continued to approach, his eyes straining to recognize a face, his grip tight on his sword hilt. Suddenly a face came into view and his sword flashed back into his belt. He ran forwards and threw his arms around Kenna, hugging her tight, a broad smile on his face. "Hey there, darling." He said, eventually releasing her. "What are you doing here? I thought you were still in good old Dorchie right now?" Even as he was speaking, however, his senses were catching up with the surprise and registering other facts. The smell permeated to his nostrils and he wrinkled his nose, frowning down at the corpse. "What's going on here?" He asked, his hand creeping back to his sword hilt once again. "Who is that? Who killed him, and why?"
--Ignatius_casimir
“So let it be done..” Ignatius nodded, the deal was now sealed.

“You will not be working alone, but I am sure I can expect you to recognize friend from foe. The Mortimer’s will indeed be smart about it, Geo has extensive military training, his brother Drestakil is well traveled, Jarlath I trained myself. I do not foresee the women presenting too much of a problem, though I know very little about them. I saw very few guards on the grounds, but then they would not be able to predict what’s coming now would they?” he began to think, but kept his ideas to himself, going on “… follow the road North out of town, just on the edge of the woods there is a long trail off to your left that leads to a castle on a hill. The Gardens are on the south wall, start there. When it’s finished come back here and take a room. I will find you” he pushed his chair back and stood.

One last instruction “Before you kill him, before you trim Geo’s head from his neck, tell him his debt will be repaid with his daughter’s blood… then finish it quickly. I want him to know his death means nothing to me” he walked away, pitching a few coins to the bartender, Drak still sitting as he stepped out into the light.
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Kjolmar
Kjolmar wanted to say things, but for some reason they never reached his lips. Instead he just whispered to Kenna "This has nothing to do with the Wolves I hope? I heard they were after you... It's also why I came, to help you."

He nodded to Pliny who had now joined them.
Viceroy
Viceroy raised an eyebrow. "An unintended party it seems, but we must be very concerned. If he has teamed up with the wolves, then expect many to die today. He will use them and cast them to the side," Viceroy states examining the body some more. Nothing abnormal on this.

He turns to Kenna. "You will be his target. We must keep you safe at all costs. My death would not be enough. I know you are wise and strong, but keep your senses on par. I will search the castle for intruders," he stated preparing to learn, but turning asking a silent question.
pnj
"Gina... did you hear something," she asked nervously.

Badieh
lol.. sorry about that again, me and my clumsiness, please delete this post.
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Baron of Sparsholt | Wiltshire Army Captain | NEA Master Sergeant | 9th Legion | Royal Guards Lt. | KoTR
--Draknalor
Drak focuses on every word said by Ignatius, the address, what the location holds, and what should be done. As Ignatius stood up, Drak smiles while saying in a low voice, "It shall be done, but i need to prepare myself first."

He slams the table with two hands, and pulls himself up, then walks slowly out of the tavern without looking backwards. Untying the horse, he hops on it, and makes his way to his old cranky shack nearby where he left his stuff.



After arriving to the shack, he dismounts, tie the horse to a nearby tree, then makes his way inside. He takes his special belt that is full of large pockets, fills them in with all different kinds of items that he will be needing for the mission.

Moments later

He is done packing, he unties his horse, mounts it, and then makes his way north.

--Blake_merc
Out of the shadows, a man appears with a blade in his hand. He looks and notices a familiar face and sheathes the quick blade. Almost like a dream, this man drifts towards the familiar face. His face is painted over and his expression is flat. There was once a life behind the eyes, but of that it had faded. In a crowd, one could tell he was different. In the shadows, he disappeared. He slowly let his colored lips part being close to the man some called Ignatius

Ready for the job

It was obvious he preferred to sink back into the shadows and do his work from there.

Kennagillian
Hugging Pliny tight and kissing both his cheeks, she pulled away and her eyes glistened, telling much of the joy she had in seeing him again. There was so much she wanted to say to him. Kjolmar whispered his thoughts and she broke away from her glad tidings, hearing her father's response "Ah yes, they mean to speak the words that are oft founded upon no actions. For many years I have heard nothing but great tales of what they once were, lo I see hide nor hair of them except skant tales of weak men leaving the pack to be run in circles. We should only pray now that Ignatius be foolish enough to bind his woes with them, lest they be easy to spot, whining loud enough for all to hear. Lord Phoenix, surely you jest" she winked at him and turned to her father ".. and as it is, prayer works. I started my own whisperings just now in my room, and look, two strapping lads appear! Pliny, it seems father's past has come to call. On with which has all Mortimer men and women arming up, this trophy being the first for uncle Drest" she looked at Pliny and then to the dead man "... for now" she raised her eyebrows. Laying a hint but letting it be.

She told both of the new arrivals "I am proud you both are here, but we seem to have lost Jarlath and I am getting worried..." she put her right hand to the handle of her own sword and looked to her father for what to do next.
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--Ignatius_casimir
He stirred in his sleep, plauged with dreams and thoughts, resting in the late afternoon. the sun was dipping low in the sky, shadows falling in his room. He finally gave up on trying to rest, pulling on his coat and hat, then taking to the streets. He was restless and unsettled because only two had come, only two from all he'd sent for, surely they would not leave him in his greatest hour of need. That wretch had commanded boys and they'd done better than this, he was being made into a fool. He was standing near the alley, trying to think of what he should do when the voice came from the darkness of the building's breezways, and he saw the pale face. He was so rattled it took him a minute to find his own tounge. It took drinking from his flask to find his voice.

"Ahh... for Jah's sake.." he mumbled, feeling his heart pounding. Age had white washed the days of old when he once knew the footsteps of men before they made them, he could have been dead just then.

"I see you found your way, Blake. So good of you to take your time" he realized it might be best if he let the sarcasm sit, and press onward "..this particular job will require your delicate attention to detail, your agility and great passion. A sample of the things I have heard you are famous for. I trust you will deliver?" Ignatius asked, flashing in his mind to the mental images of carnage this one man had made into a master piece. Even he knew well enough to give this man his space, stepping back to put the collumn of the building between them.



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