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(ORP) Royal Parade & Coronation of King Cullan Holifard

Gawain59
Jamesthemad wrote:
...Out in the courtyard...
A certain large fellow quietly re-enters the area, shrouded for the moment in a dark cloak, leading a white mare of probably Moorish lines. The animal had been groomed to within an inch of her life, coat brushed til she shone, hooves cared for and oiled, mane and tail trimmed neatly though still long and flowing. The tack buckled onto the mare shone with a certain warmth of well oiled and cared for leather, even in the soft light of morning. Spotting a young stable hand not too far from the tents that were his current destination, our large friend beckons the lad, hands him a fat silver coin, and instructs the lad to care for his mount until it is time.

That done, our neighbor enters the tents, and quietly asks after a portion of the morning meal being offered. This in hand, James moves to a spot near the end of one bench, and sits. Noticing Bishop Gawain, the young Captain nods cordially in greeting, and gestures to his side in invitation for that worthy to join him at breakfast. Y' Grace, twould be a fine thing tae be privileged tae break fast wi' ye. Come sit, if yer of a mind.

All the while, our friend tries hard not to get anything on himself, and ignores the hints of scarlet and bright gold trim that keep peeking out from his cloak.


Upon being greeted by James and invited to sit next to him, Bishop Gawain nods cordially in return.

"Good morning, Captain, 'twill be my pleasure to breakfast with you."

Gawain then promptly takes a seat next to the young Captain at the indicated side, and he begins to eat, his cloak still wrapped closely around himself to keep out the chill of the early morning.
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Pro-Rector of United Reformed Aristotelian Church | Viscount of Alcester, Baron of Nassington, Baron of Barton-under-Needwood, Lord of Clun Castle, Holder of the Sacred Chalice of Essex
Cullan
Cullan called his greetings to Sythe, then gave Cordelia a look of mock exhaustion "Th' Royal Warden was jus' gettin' on me fer not eatin'."he grumbled under his breath something along the lines of 'not feeding a she-dragon', but didn't voice it. Instead he limped toward the well-stuffed chair that had been brought in for him. He looked around at those gathered, still awe-struck over the past few weeks. King, betrothed and married all in less than two weeks.

A meek servant slipped in behind Sythe, going around the edge of the room to reach him. He carried a jug and cup, stammering
"Her--um...Her Highness sends this...and says to eat..."

The King laughed jovially "Nursemaids, all a ya. Ya'd think tha' th' Keeng'd drop dead if th' wind blew too hard." Still, he took the tea from him and a scone, then leaned in to whisper in his ear. The servant bobbed an assent, and slid back outside. There wasn't much time, and he needed to get niceties over. "I know all ya lads 're members 'a everything. So...I don't expect any 'a ya ta walk wi' me. Ya can if ya want, but yer counties an' armies 're more important than me."

He took a deep breath, sipping the Princess' tea as he thought. "I might as well do this now. Lads..."he smiled to his niece "An' lass. When asked fer th' wedding party, th' Princess claimed a lass frae every family. I needed ta gaither mine as well. Fer tha' I chose a man frae every County tha' deserved recognition. Each 've ya aren't th' loudest wheel. Ya don't get th' immediate silence 'a those 'round ya." he smirked "Except mebbe th' Count 'a Sussex...but 'e learned tha' in our yellin' matches." he winked at Noodle, who'd been his enemy for far too long. "Joking aside. Yer noticed. I see ya. Ye all wark hard in th' defense 'a England an' yer Counties. Ya bring somethin' ta say in every discussion. Yer intelligent, well mannered an' noble. I admire each an' every one 'a ya..."his voice trailed off as a page entered carrying a tray. On it was silver goblet for each person present. Engraved on it's surface was St. George fighting his dragon, the lance making it's final strike within the wyrm's mouth. Entwined within the dragon's body was the personal arms of the Princess - a semee of bezants on a green field. Carried by St. George was his own crow upon a white field, with a green chevron and pile. Delicately engraved upon a scroll in the corner was the words 'Their Majesties Cullan and Aggnes Holifard, 23 April 1463'.

He took his own, nodding as the page filled his, then moved to fill the others. The whisky was imported from Orkney, distilled before a few of them were born. Single malt, it was smooth and smokey, with a finish of fruit and mild nuttiness. He'd spent a lot of money to bring it down, but it was most certainly worth the occasion. Smiling to the group, he called out.
"Here’s to you, as good as ya are, An' here’s ta me, as bad as I am!" he held up his cup"But as good as you are, an' as bad as I am, I am as good as you are, as bad as I am!"
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‡English Ambassador to Greece‡Baron of Coombes‡Most obnoxious person in SussexWelcome to England.
Noodle
Noodle recognised Robin from the House of Lords and grinned as he spoke up. Noodle nodded in agreement, a sharp edge for a dapper gent, of course. Noodle left the blade on the side and moved over to take advantage of the breakfast served. King Cullan jested and Noodle couldn't help but remember looking up at the former Judge of Sussex as he slammed his hammer down and found Noodle guilty of treason. That memory gifted a certain irony for Noodle's role in the ceremony to come. There was a small pride in Noodle, hearing the King's praise - the conscious arch of betterment must have been paying off after all.

The silver goblet was majestic. The violent instance engraved on the side was powerful. After Cullan poured the whiskey, Noodle politely took his goblet in hand and raised it for the King's complex toast! Here, here. To the good in all men, even those in shades of grey.

Noodle drank trustingly from the silver cup.
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The Wolf-brave | Mayor of Lewes | Count of Sussex
Sandoval
Sandoval was turning her head to look at evrything in sight. There was so much to see that she felt her headbwas going to spin off. All the ladies looked absolutely stunning and the men. Well... handsome was the only word close enough to describe them. She noticed the bouncing figure of the princess, Angie, flitting around. Sandoval waves at her, not sure if the gesture was noticed. she was probably too excited for her father to notice.

Sandy is slightly startled by a voice directed at her. Was the nearby beautiful lady talking to her? Wait... it was the Admiral- Jasmine! Sandy quickly gives a smart salute, or at least tries.


My lady... admiral! Hello! Thanks for letting me come, this is such a grand event and I am so honoured to attend. Nice to see a friendly face too! I love the uniform, it's a nice hybrid.

Sandy look admiringly at Jasmine and then around. She was sure it was going to be a great day. Maybe she'll see another familiar person or even make new friends. She was so excited for her friend, Princess Angie too, since she'd told Sandy earlier how proud she was of her father.
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Andreas.sharpe
Andreas joined the gathering leading a mount he had... requisitioned ... from the stables, and tied her up by a white horse in the courtyard.

Entering the tent as discreetly as he could and seeing the King already in attendance, he bowed before moving looking for a quiet spot he could take away from the hubbub of the gathered taking their repast, nodding greetings to his Captain and fellow guardsman as he did so.
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Clan Sharpe | Clan Mackenzie | Baron of Offington | Arundel Mayor Emeritus | Royal Guard | Thanks Triq
Kazzia_llewellynn
With a broad smile on her face Kazzia smiled at Lady Kit, as she turned the material in her hand. I'm actually working on the last in a set of handkerchiefs for my brother. The family's crest will be on them, if I can ever quit forgetting where I've set it down. I keep putting it down and then when I want it I've left it. Last time I had left it in my fishing boat. She turned it and displayed the red and gold crest of her family. She was proud of how this one was turning about. She'd been afraid that she'd started her rows wrong thus off setting the design, but that simply wasn't the case and she went to work on right upper corner. As Lady Aggnes mentioned tea for upset stomachs, Kaz looked at Taarna and smiled. She turned so that she could see the Princess, seeing if she had any task she needed her to complete.
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Baronet of Hastings
Louis_llewellynn
The Prince arrived dressed in the regalia of the Order of the Garter, he looked around and shrugged as he seemed to be the only one here.
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Thanks Cordelia for the banner; Duke of Dyfed, Earl of Pembrokeshire, Viscount of Scarbourgh KOTG KoTH CoH
Corsaira
Saira took the book back. "I can hold it. I am the Librarian after all. But first I'm going to find a nail brush and give them hands a scrub. If that ink don't come out it's fine gloves for ye. Lace maybe. But I've got worse out of fleeces. And me own hands, for that matter."

She starts looking through the provided bath attendant tools for something like the things she used on her sheep.
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NMA NMG ~Mayoress/HM of Liverpool ~ KotH ~ REN Recruiter ~ WML Navy ~ Hangman Club ~ I Kissed a Priest, and I Liked It! ~ I am AWESOME
Lavea


Time Turner: 7 AM (Friday 24th): King and Princess finish prep. Parade lines up.

Line-up Order: Musicians and Entertainers, Representatives of the Army and Navy, Religious Heads, County Leaders, Members of the Garter, Royal Guard, County Dragons and Knightly Orders.

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Lady Lavea de Lyle, Viscountess of Salford, Earl of Leeds, Marchioness of Lancashire. Lady of Bramall Hall, Pontefract Castle and Holker Hall.
Pagan
Pagan woke up on a floor of her room in the inn, her arms death-locked around a tin bucket, with no will to live. She didn't feel human, she didn't even feel like a mammal. Her head was throbbing. Her eyes were red enough to give her features a lizardish cast. She would have puked but she quite apparently took care of that last night, with none too good of an aim. She vaguely remembered doing some really dumb and embarrassing things last night. Her body had lost the ability to generate saliva, her tongue flopped in her mouth like a nightmare-plagued drunkard thrashing around in a crammed thatched hut. She would have cried like a baby but that would have stolen the last few drops of moisture left in her body.

"Milady, milady, I have tried to wake you up for an hour now - you will be late for the parade!"

That was Fannie Rump, her handmaiden. Pagan moaned and groaned. Oh yes, she remembered now. She was in London. Her grandiose plan of renting the best inn of London all to herself did not take, because of all the people who had come for the Royal coronation and wedding party. She had been lucky to find a vacant room in a third class inn near the docks. Then she had left to explore the night life of London - with a solemn promise to herself to get back early and drink in moderation because of the early awakening in the morning. The last thing she recalled was accepting her ninth shot offer with the exhortation, 'Hell yeah! Let's get this party started!' Everything after that was a black vacuum populated with shifting, vaguely menacing shapes.

Pagan turned her head too quickly and smelled the funk of rotgut hooch in her hair. She tried to remember what she had promised to Admiral Ashenheart back in Lewes. Something about a barge? Which barge, where? What time it was? Already too late, too late. Rowan would kill her. But then again, death seemed pretty awesome right now.

There was no time for a bath or cleaning up. Fannie fussed about over her, dragged her on the bed and helped the naval outfit on her. Pagan croaked something about an eye-opener. Fannie spread her arms helplessly. "I'm sorry milady, there is nothing left! You insisted to drink everything!"

Finally she was ready and Fannie pushed her out of the door. Stumbling and vibrating, with eyes red as fire, Pagan shuffled out of the inn into the blinding morning sun. Now where was the Royal Navy assembling? What about the barge Admiral Ashenheart had mentioned?

She was so dead.
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Clan MacKenzie | SSC | Order of Saighdears | Sussex Navy | REN | Baroness of Laughton | Banner by Raella
Lavea
A herald blew once on his trumpet, and then with a very loud booming voice called out, "My Lords, Ladies, and Gentlemen, will you now assemble and prepare your places. Musicians and Entertainers to announce the way, followed by Representatives of the Army and Navy, Religious Heads, County Leaders, Members of the Garter, Royal Guard - to be shortly joined by the King, County Dragons and Knightly Orders, shortly to be followed by the Princess' Party."
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Lady Lavea de Lyle, Viscountess of Salford, Earl of Leeds, Marchioness of Lancashire. Lady of Bramall Hall, Pontefract Castle and Holker Hall.
Lavea
Lav glanced out the window at the call of the herald. "Indeed we need to get a move on, anyone not helping her Highness begin changing, we need to be down in an hour. A page confirmed the King has drunk his tea ma'am. Right, into the tub." She scooped up the rose petals and herbs and closed the door. "How much ink do you get on the paper?"
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Lady Lavea de Lyle, Viscountess of Salford, Earl of Leeds, Marchioness of Lancashire. Lady of Bramall Hall, Pontefract Castle and Holker Hall.
Aleksander75
It was time to line up. Aleks was still mid bite in something or other. He hadn't actually looked at what food was being served. He was so hungry, he had just started eating. Quickly finishing his bite and chugging his tea, he put on his chimere, scrarf and hat.

Now for the cuffs, which he always had trouble with. Half-running, half-trying not to fall over he mad his way over to the place where he needed to stand for the procession, still trying to put on his cuffs.
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Baron of Cemaes~ Baronet of Liverpool~Bishop of Aristotelian Westmorland Eclectic Synod of Missionary Evangelists
Jamesthemad
...In the breakfast tents...
Our large friend had just about worked up the nerve to attempt to engage Bishop Gawain in conversation, when he heard a single tone call on a trumpet. Weel. says he, Tha' be our cue. It begins. James rises, and bows formally to the Bishop. Andy, if ye'll take th' front, Sythe an' I weel take th' sides, fae th' King's carriage since we've an odd number. If any more join us, we shall then take the four corners of't. A nod to all present, and the big Scot is out of the tents and headed to his mount. Removing his cloak as he walks, our large neighbor reveals the full dress uniform of the Royal Guard; with its high boots, thigh length scarlet tunic and gold trim. His customary white baldric crosses his chest, with the devices of his order and sect pinned to it. Beside that, upon the left breast of his tunic, hang his own decorations, in order of precedence. At his left hip, and completely out of character for his normal preferences, hangs a heavy broadsword, it's polished hilts and sheath glinting in the morning light.

Donning a pair of white gauntlets, James hands his cloak to the stable hand who had minded his borrowed mount, with a request to drop it by the barracks for him. That done, our friend takes the reins, and mounts. It takes him only a handful of moments to ride round to about the center of the courtyard. Once there, and after he calms the fidgeting Spitfyre, which mount he had borrowed from the Duchess Huntingdon, our young friend for the first time in his life gives an order. Royal Guards! Post!

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Baron Norham/Squire to Sir Robert Frankel, KotRE/Captain of the Royal Guard
Melpomena
Mel set out with Morana from the inn she'd stayed at yesterday. The journey from Chard was long and a bit tiring, but she managed to rest and hoped Morana did too. The early morning found them both walking about London, Mel pulling the horse's reins and guiding her through already crowded streets.

The walk was slow, but enjoyable with many open markets and merchants loudly squabbling over visiting customers; inviting them to purchase their product and not one of their competitors. The place was as busy as a beehive, throngs of people from every direction going about their daily business.

Close to the courtyard where everyone was to assemble, a trumpet's call was heard. Just in time, Mel reflected. In the distance, the girl could see many people that already gathered, apparently conversing pleasantly with each other. However, her eyes searched for her fellow Knights. Drawing in closer, she finally saw two familiar faces and went to join them carefully leading Morana with her. Straightening her garment, Mel approached them and smiled.

“Good morning you two“, Mel said greeting Nap and Llyres who were already deep in conversation.
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Croatian Order of Knights Templar | Former Guardsman to Mercia Regiment | CoH Herald of Arms | Baroness of Williton | DN
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