An hour had passed, and finally some semblance of order was once again restored to the D'vena estates. Ravyin was dressed and quite sedated, being watched over in the drawing room. She expected Hurbury and his son at any moment.


The house cleric was prepped, and ready for the ceremony. Some guards were still edgy, watching the fires and fingering their weapons, but her captains were the best money could pay for, and they were quick to restore order.


The chamberlain let himself into the drawing room, and announced, "Lord Hurbury, and Lord Doran, M'lady D'vena, to see ye." He bowed, yet his eyes seemed to linger on the young man's arse as they pushed by and into the room.


"D'vena, ye had best have a good reason for getting us out of bed for this, at this ungodly hour!" Hurbury scowled. Young Doran, barely eighteen, gazed upon the girl he was to wed, and gulped. He had no choice in the matter of course, but at least she was a pretty one.


Ravyin was unable to move her arms and legs, the sedatives were keeping her still, yet inside her mind was screaming for her husband.


"I have plenty of reasons mine lord Hurbury, and I think thee and I will worry about those later. For now, let us see these children wed and be done with it. Cleric, thee may begin."


The cleric nodded and opened his bible. Ravyin was brought over to stand next to Doran. Hurbury's eyes went a bit narrow, but as this was the girl he'd hand picked for his younger son, he cared little how it was done.


"Let us begin the ceremony to unite these two in the bonds of marriage...."

Crispian hurried down the hallway, buckling the hauberk in place. The troops were assembling en route, the marching column swelling as the King's troops fell out. Tannir hustled behind, tabard of the Order on him, clutching greaves to his chest as he rushed to catch up.


Jashen, polished, buffed and still looking like a mercenary, walked behind. Crispian fastened this cloak to rings on the plate chest piece and took one of the greaves, slamming them into place and slowing so that Tannir could fight the straps into place. He emerged from the Defender's compound made-over from the home-spun clad youth that had rushed in from the palace moments ago.


He was a young warrior, now. Sword hung through the hanger on his left hip, and he hefted a shield emblazoned with the Arms of the League - Or with Ebon Tower chief, Azure chevron fess, and his cloak was the same. The clapped the plate cap he prefered on his head and shifted his shoulders to settle the second scabbard that rode his back.


Gone was the hesitancy of politics, the uncertainty of machinations. THIS arena he knew, had blazed a trail through. Pausing one last time, he bowed his head for the chain Jashen slipped over, heavy golden Cs holding two plaques of wrought steel - The Tower and Chevron of the Guild Emaneled on one and the symbol of his Alliance on the other.


"To the King!" he said and turned, leading the trio up the column.

 

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Rasputyn burst into the courtyard as soon as the soldiers let him past.


"I need to see, uh, Moryan, the wench," he gasped out, "or Crispian, someone..."


The guard looked at him and scowled. "They have left, at the king's order," he sneered at the Infiltrator.

 

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The cleric continued the words to the ceremony as the first hint of dawn began to creep across the horizon. "Do thee, Doran Hurbury, take Ravyin D'vena..."

Ishish shifted uncomfortably in the ranks. The defenders had been called to march and she joined the ranks without question. Where they were going and for what reason never crossed her mind. She was just a soldier. A small player in a larger story. She would fight for this king, waiting for the moment when she could obtain her revenge.

/ooc For those of you in hibernia who wonder why you are always the source of conspiracy and intrigue in Albion its because you are well-mannered, smell nice and are reasonably intelligent. No Albion no matter how evil would have the poor taste to conspire with the Norse =P

Drayton frowned as he ran, torch in hand. Ravyin was taking way too long for his liking, and he had to check on her. He slipped over the wall and climbed the rope hanging from the balcony. He made his way through thr abandoned hall...the sound of soldiers cluttering around outside could still be heard. He stopped short of entering the dining hall. And to his horror, he saw the love of his life being married off to Harbury.


He watched in horror. He could believe it. What could he do? It was almost over....he was about to say I do...and he would then ask her...but Ravyin would never consent...but they would force it anyway. He desperately glanced arond, then blinked.


He snuck behind the mayhem and lit the cutrains on fire with his torch. He then tossed the torch over the head of the cleric and behind him, to the lavish taprestries behind, which almost immediately burst into flames.


Chaos.

 

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((ooc- shall we put this on hold till monday folks? when we are all back at work and can take the time to finish it?


I would like to add that until its actually DONE (or something concrete has past) that we play it as still not having happened.


Basically, we all know that Carrington was thrown out, and certain parts have transpired, but obviously this last night could not have taken place until we finish it completely. We didn't run away from finishing D'vena off to go hunt in lyonesse for a few hours.


Any thoughts? And shall we finish it on Monday? Its about time to wrap some of it up I think.))

OOC: Monday is good. I've got sort of a busy weekend. Golf outing today and Lewis-Tyson tonight.

/ooc- Monday works

 

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