That's The Way It Is

[LithiumSedai 5750]

That’s The Way It Is

 

 

Marshal Walter patrolling the Langkettes, 1942

(Blue Sky, George D. Smith))

 

With a flick of his wrist, Walter discarded the remains of his Salvian cigar. Soon remembering that he was in the Hand of Horen, however, he plucked it off the marbled floor with a grumble and a cough; a complaint inaudible to most in his surroundings, given the rumble and commotion resulting from the scraping of dignitaries’ boots - the Diet session was finally adjourned, and everyone present sought to make their leave. About damn time, he thought. A weathered man of rough manners and curt mannerisms, the flourish of the Diet never appealed to him, and he attended its sessions as a spectator solely out of pure courtesy for his lieges, both Princely and Royal. 

 

He melded in with the crowd as it streamed through the palace halls, lost in his thoughts as the flow of passage carried him towards the gates. He was never one for high politics, unlike the men who surrounded him; his mind was occupied entirely by mundane considerations. Marriage sounds good for a feller my age, he posited. Don’t need to be a lone man no more. Maybe I’ll get that raise from the Prince. Maybe I’ll start my distillery. For a decade he had served as Merryweather’s Marshal and Sheriff, and though chaos and war raged in the outside world, the Langkettes remained safe under his watch - no cattle were rustled, no horses were stolen. His train of thought persisted even as his hat was blown off his head by a chilling breeze whistling through the hall, and the steps around him became louder and uneven. The great palace doors were swung wide open, and armed men could be seen rushing into the Hand.

 

“Halt,” a voice called out from the intruding group, and a man stepped forth. “Don’t shoot,” Walter said to the brigand blocking his path, arms lifted in surrender before his loaded arbalest. His uniform seemed oddly familiar. As the circumstances of his newfound situation began to weigh upon him, and tensions heightened, Walter still believed the armed intruders had no reason to harm him.

 

He was forced to concede to the harsh realities of life when two blades pierced through the Sheriff’s back.

 

 

Spoiler

A short narrative about the demise of the Marshal of Merryweather, a character I had been fortunate to play in Aaun and the Alstreim community. Thank you for all the RP!

 

 

[Balthasar 2497]

"A man taken from us much too soon!" muttered the Alstreim Prince, Johannes.

 

Spoiler

 

 

[Olox_ 4318]

 

"I feared that I will be dying of boredom here! Not anymore it seems, old friend."

Heinrich II Lothar said with a smile and offered the Sheriff a dip of his head as he entered the Seven Skies

 

Spoiler

 

 

[HugoAntero 1962]

Ferdinand Barclay, whom was set free during the ordeal, decided to smoke a Salvian cigar instead of a Barcston. To honour those fallen.