THE CLASH OF FAIRMARKET

[nunlover 579]

Spoiler

 

 

THE CLASH OF FAIRMARKET

Issued by the Knight Commander

On the 8th of Sigismund’s End, 2076

 

 

 

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To the Citizenry of our fair Archduchy,

 

In the fields surrounding Saint Godwinsburg, a cry of distress was called up and into the night. A band of so-called peasants, led by the infamous Dirk, had seen fit to prey upon the leal gentry of our realm. In an effort to pursue darker deeds, they had seemed willing to even do harm to a youth of Alba, unarmed and defenseless in the face of such villainy.

 

In their diligence, a contingent of the Black Banner of Alstion heeded the sound of alarm, though did find themselves nearly overwhelmed by the sheer ferocity with which those lowborn mercenaries met them amidst those stalks of grain. The clangor of castleforged steel rang loudly, with those men-at-arms being met with blades of equal craft to their own. It had seemed all might turn to ruin…

 

Until the roar of a horn did sound, hailing from the southwest Daelwood upon the symphony of thundering hooves. Mounted upon blackened steed, Sir Rickard sat upright in his saddle, longsword lofted eagerly. At his back, a ready company of Ostlunders galloped just behind. In synchronicity, another warhorn did sound from the gates of the city, where the Knight Commander Sir Everett did sally out with his fellow shields and squires. Among those guards of both common and noble birth, it was Inku Vierto who proved the most spirited in his pursuit, whilst Dirk himself was apprehended singlehandedly by a most unexpected combatant - a hobbit called Wilibald Proudbottom.

 

In a great collision of horseflesh and spurs, those rebellious insurgents were swiftly cut down by the leal soldiers of Alba, to the rejoicing of those commonfolk so distressed by that earlier incursion. It was a decisive victory, made especially fortuitous by the capture of both Dirk and several of his fellow leaders. A great roar went up through the defending company, as those prisoners were escorted within the high walls of Castle Glasgon.

 

As the Knight Commander and Lady Chancellor both stood before those kneeling brigands, Dirk did spit at Sir Everett’s feet. He made demand for a duel, to the death, as trial for both he and his companions. To forego a formal trial was their wish, and so Sir Everett did grant them their final desire.

 

One after the other, each peasant leader was afforded freshened steel and armor from the forge of Spencer Tower. So too were they taken to the castle yard, to do battle with the Knight Commander himself. Each man, with a curse upon his lips and prayer to GOD for mercy upon their souls, did fall to the longsword of the noble night. Their desired justice had been done, proving their guilt before the watchful eyes of the Alban people.

 

Let the rout of these foes serve as both a reminder and a warning. To those who seek to sow turmoil and distrust between the commonfolk and nobility of Alba,  you shall find no purchase here. We stand strong in the face of any enemy, beneath the banner of our Imperium and our Archduchy.

 

TANDEM TRIUMPHANS

AVE IMPERIUM

 

 

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S I G N E D,

HIS EXCELLENCY,  Sir Everett de Brionnes,

Knight Commander of the Order of the White Hart, Marshal of the Black Banner of Alstion

 

[Vikenz 1162]

Rickard had remembered the distant shouting while on patrol with a small Osterlunder host of twelve men. Without another second of hesitation, he spurred his horse forward, the sound of screams and steel singing ringing as he drew near. He arrived at Fairmarket. Rickard had been forced off his steed amid the chaos, drawing his blade as he pressed on. His blade bloodied by the end, carving into the fray beside the Waldenic and Alban men. 

[Emery 958]

Conrad Jrent lingered at the edge of the yard, arms folded across his chest as he watched Sir Everett take each man in turn. He followed the bouts in silence, his gaze fixed on the clashing of the daemonsteel blades. The fights were short, but each ended the same. Conrad gave a faint shake of his head at one clumsy strike, then gave a quiet nod at another well-placed blow. When the last of them fell, he pushed off the wall and turned away without a word. There was nothing more to see.

[Mattiii 1663]

Within the private chapel of Castle Glasgon, the Archduke knelt alone before the marble altar, his head bowed and hands joined in prayer. "And may GOD continue to bless Our most honourable troops. . ." He murmured, tracing the Lorraine 'pon his breast thereafter.

[MunaZaldrizoti 8037]

The Lady Chancellor returned to her desk with a satisfied smirk, following those trials by combat. Swiftly though did her hubris fall away into something more thoughtful. Her gaze had found that looming portrait of her late father upon the wall, proud and lean in his embroidered doublet of pale azure-blue. Her eyes began to glistened, a breath catching in her throat. A peasant brigand had slain him, they had said. Those very same who had sought to do the Archduke harm, and wreak havoc upon their realm.

 

"We hath shielded thy realm, father," She spoke in a whisper, her voice wavering. "Just as I promised."

[Vikenz 1162]

Accident

[Festive Fate 10]

so real. i was there.

[Vikenz 1162]

Second Rep Farm accident!