The Emperors Return

[Sultan 3953]

In the Far East Western Border at the end of Somerset Godfrey, looks, over the battlefield ontop of his trusty steed, he spits, mixed with blood and sweet he feels an ache in his weapon arm, he clutches his morning star, as Duke Vallark rides to his side, and bows his head, and says with tired tone ‘’Sire.. that was the last of them we are victorious.’’ Godfrey looks towards his brother in law and gives him a half smile ‘’Good, the Wilding tribes won't rise again for a hundred years we have secured our border’’ he looks to his left seeing the Hoichmister ride up the Hoichmister has just come to them after a year and half he has been campaing with them for a few months but his support had quickened the pace of the war, ‘’Mirtok command the men to clean the field and give our men a proper burial, stake up the wilding to show the reminder of the tribes to never rise up against us and burn the rest’’ Mirtok nods and goes to give the commands. ‘’Let your men stake up the tents we shall rest tonight and march back to Arethor’’ A detachment of Knights led by Jorgen, ride up towards Godfrey, Jorgen removes his helm, blood and dirt covers his face ‘’Sire we chased down the ones that fled and cut them down’’ Godfrey looks at the Jorgen, and nods.

Godfrey pulls the reins and rides back to his Imperial tent, a squire walks up and holds the reins as Godfrey unmounts, a servant brings him a large bowl and he starts to wash away the dirt and blood, as the nobles, come one by one and unmount and join him, as the food and wine is brought in, and Godfrey listens to the account of how many men were lost and the names of nobles and knights that died. Godfrey holds the wine, horn as the old Duke Westfall comes in after he is escorted off of his litter, he is accompanied by his knights led by Ser Kais they help him sit on the soft velvet cushions, Godfrey looks at him ‘’Duke Westfall it has been along two years we shall return soon, let us hope everything is well in the Capital, and that people we left behind are capable or there shall be consequences. They spent the night, and early in the morning the army is mobilized and marches back to the capital, Oren banner flatters in the air behind it Horen, Vivyaen, Vallark and Teutonic banners, the army take quick pace settling once and awhile to rest, it took them a whole two months to march back to the center of Oren only a week's march to the Catpial, a ride, was sent ahead to inform Arethor of Victorious Emperor's return.

The squire rides into Arethor holding Orens banner in his hand and screams at the top of his long ‘’THE EMPEROR IS A WEEK'S MARCH FROM THE CAPTIAL MAKE READY FOR A GRAND ENTRANCE, THE EMPEROR HAS SUBDUED THE WILDING TRIBES BY THE GRACE OF GOD!’’ As the people make ready, nobles and Knights where there best and peasants line the streets, girls holds bowels of flower petals Ser Lion and ten Knights ride out to welcome the Emperor and his banners back the meet just out of the Crown Lands and escort Godfrey back to his Capital. As he reaches the gates, the people start to cheer his return the girls throw the petals as the Godfrey and the army enter the city, Godfrey is encircled by Knights, as his horse treads on the paved roads of Arethor, the horse is plated, Godfreys banner painted on its armor, his own armor is that of the most hardened steel and gold trimmed, his open winged helm engraved with gold, as he smiled and waved to the people, he stopped in the middle of the street and his Herald stood in front of him, as he shouts, ‘’By the grace of God, Godfrey the first of his name our beloved Emperor, of Oren King of Hanstie and Seventis Protector of the Realm and Defender of the faith, hath returned to us Victorious after he has defeated and subdued the wilding tribes in the far west, the Emperor shall address his people!’’ he hits his staff twice onto the ground to silence all.

‘’The word is the word of the sword

,Until the wrongs are righted , The despicable ones have even wronged, The father of people of strong will, Our sanctuaries would not have been desecrated, Had the lions surrounded them, The filthiest of bandits have attacked us, So where are the swords? They have forgotten that we are the defiant ones, Who defend like lions, We are those who trampled with our steeds, The thrones of the Kingdoms, We are those who built our forts out of skulls, Which were brought from the lands of the tyrants, By force and on top of the booty, Our father is the one who made us, Noble builders of glory, Our father is the light of truth, Who lit the face of the world, He lit the lamp of the light, Black from misguidance, And created from a few people, A generation coming with dawn, So they destroyed a head of aggression, And humiliated every oppressor, War against every aggressor, And peace for every peaceful one.

Greetings to thee my people, and loyal subjects we have returned to thee after two years of war and blood, we have ended the wildings of the west, and there butchering of our subjects, we hope that my people have been well and that my subjects that have been entrusted with your well being have done you well if they have not then the shall be justly punished, and we shall take your ples and audiences after we have rested from our journey.’’ the crowd cheers ‘’Long Live The Emperor, God Save The Emperor!’’ Godfrey rides forward and enters the Palace, his scribe brings him urgent papers, about nations and the Crimson Company he reads the letters and can not hold back his laugh, he starts to laugh out loud he looks to his left, and says ‘’Quite funny.. How people believe a mercenary Company is part of Oren, House Flay’’. he starts to laugh again ‘’There is no House Flay the have been disbanded ages ago’’ he wanders off to his chambers and starts to write an edict. Uthor meets Godfrey and Informs him of the happenings, Godfrey looks towards Uthor ‘’Go and speak to them that any infighting shall result in my wrath and that we shall come with a fist of rage onto any that disturbs my peace, we shall deal with this ourselves, tell all the nobles to cometh to me.’’ As Godfrey goes into his Throne to an assemble of nobles.

[ayresalex 517]

*Jon Norsem, hearing of Emperor Godfreys return, assembles a detatchment of his bannermen, to travel from the Holy Lands to Arethor, to take part in the return hom ceremony.*

*When Norsem, and his company of troops arrive at the capital, he cannot help but smile, he has done much since Godfreys departure. Rid of a disloyal bannerhouse, became a count of the Holy Lands, raised a company of bannermen with his own coin, taking over the iron market, and made plans to raise a majestic keep*

*He look down, and mutters to himself, "It has time to put House Norsem on the map."

*He grins, and trots to go greet the Emperor.*

[Coaster 2086]

August Flay burps.

[Kickstarted and Running 965]

*Alexander Griffin-Jrent walks into the throne room, his shirt is torn in one place, a bloddied bandage replaces it, his arm in a sling. He limps up to his place, grim faced he barely seems to be aware of where he is, and gives his father the slightest of nods, standing quiet*

[Redbaron™ 690]

*Sits in Godfreys court as Godfrey yells at both him and Flay for warring eachother*

[Solaba 144]

*Is pissed after hearing the conversation within the throne room but a bit happy House Flay is just a bunch of rag tag bean bandits now*

[steelersfan1221 300]

* The Duke and the Duchess of Auvergne look at the notice, feeling a bit pleased. "Hopefully our Holy Emperor shall be pleased with the revival of Auvergne. It has grown rapidly, the Guivrets are back." Balian nods and smiles. *

[Scipp3r 451]

*Patrick sits in his study with his hand to his forehead in stress about maxing trading requests among the Dukes. A Page barges into his office jumping up and down behind his desk in excitement. Sighing, Patrick takes off his monocle and places it to his desk in frustration.

"Edmund, how many times have I told you not to interfere in my studies without caring to knock first?"

Edmund the page smiles widely and replies.

"But your grace, the Emperor! he has returned!"

*Patrick nods rising from his chair and walks out of his study to welcome the Emperor home and discuss Imperial documents.

[Eleatic 1033]

He trudges forward, a lean man. A slim beard accommodating him, seemingly in bright brown robes, a gold chain coming from his neck, one circling his robe.

The hooded man feigns a smile, bowing his head in respect, saying in a soft tone."Your grace." His eyes dart towards Ser Norsem, his banners, and his banner men. disdain layed deeply within his gaunt eyes. But they are soon over-shadowed by a false politeness.

"Might I have a word, with my emperor Godfrey?.. It is of the most urgent matter, and I must digress, it is not of lavish news."

Men around exchange subtle looks, guards darting forward. Beffudeled at the hooded man's arrogancee. As the Emperor stares at him, guards and men asking in a synced unison"Who are you, sir?!"In his own gruff tone, he replies, his beard cascading from his robe. As you look upon him, you realize.. He is a monk.

"I am Jaehaeyrs Fireeye, ser's! and I beg your pardon of this rude behavior!"

House Fireeye, he knew. Had been in rubble, he was the only true one left. Indifferent as his grand-son was, however feeling a realm of duty to speak to him."Of my emporer's time I ask once more, and as I said.. It. Is of the most grievous occurrence."The men continue to mumble curses, the king asking in a less then pleased tone."You can say it here."Jaehaeyrs makes a stiffened grumble, trudging forward. Making a mumble in Godfrey's ear, Jaehaeyrs's expression without pause.

"There has been more then one case of in-fighting, one less just then before."

[ayresalex 517]

*Stands in the courtroom, flanked by two of his men, his mouth slightly agape with amusement.*

[Eleatic 1033]

Two men stand behind him, as he makes a soft whistle. A banner upon their backs, standing tall. Flowing seamlessly upon the wind, he looks behind with a nod. He soon turns his gaze, Jaehaerys's eyes dart towards Jon, a disgruntled frown of hate upon them. His wise old man facade destroyed, only anger and spite within. He holds his tounge, turning back to Godfrey. A tear within his eye, seemingly of truth, awaiting a response. He seems distraught with this, as though in a state of shock. How could Norsem know of him? Besides this, he continues his wait... Though with obvious unease, his beard swaying rhythmically in the wind as they look upon him, his violet eyes gleaming brilliantly with the sun's light. Such a man might've been considered comely in his youth, but all you see now, an old man, withered and weary. Naught a knight, nor a warrior..

[Kickstarted and Running 965]

*Alexander Jrent looks at the two who are giving each other odd looks and wonders if something has happened between them, hen shrugs it off as its probably not important to himself*

[Zebanamana 410]

Duke Zibaen of House Vivyaen nodded with approval at the words of the Emperor. Murmurs swept over the crowd like a wave when the cheers and applause had passed. It had been too long since they had been in Oren proper, too long from home indeed. Within the city he attempted to travel in his litter as infrequent as possible, and oft times the old High Chancellor would have to surrender to locked joints less than half way through a short trek.

Once more the elder man opted to use his cane and walked at a snail’s pace with the aid of Ser Kais following just behind the Emperor and his entourage. “Might I have a word with my Emperor Godfrey?” A younger man with grayed hair pleaded to the Knights who guarded Godfrey dutifully. Tis a mistake to address his majesty outside of Court, and to give unto him an improper style could be deemed an insult. The patriarch of House Vivyaen thought dully as he came to the halt among the procession. “I am Jaehaeyrs Fireeye.” The man said; he had the look of a monk about him, or perhaps a healer. The name held some familiarity, yet not one of significant note. A low noble house? Barons, or mayhap an esquire family of Norjun. Zibaen tapped his cane casually as he established his balance. Far too many claimed nobility when they had little right, and it was an issue the Royal Scribes had to fight against tooth and nail every day. Mayhap they are a false noble family?

Duke Zibaen Vivyaen looked at Jaehaeyrs with hollowed eyes and squinted to take in a clearer picture of the man. “Tell me Jaehaeyrs of House Fireeye what it is thy dost speak of? We hath be given significant detail of the most irritating conflict that hath risen betwixt nobles and the mercenary company of Flay. Minor squabbles occupy the space betwixt information on this significant action. Is it possible our informant hath deemed something of little import?” He spoke authoritatively though his voice held only a shade of its former strength, yet still wisdom held weight as a back bone to his words.

Peculiarly the man gave reaction to one amongst the crowd of the Emperor’s entourage and signaled for banner bearers to flank him. Zibaen raised his brow curiously, and noted that Ser Kais had placed his mailed glove on the hilt of his sword cautiously. A peculiar display of strength, however unnecessary.

[Eleatic 1033]

[some music; :3

Jaehaeyrs bows his head, looking around the hall wearily as the Duke continues his talk. His voice growing softly louder as he calls, his eyes showing clear hatred, dismay, but a sense of pain deeply in-laid within his words, as though they pain him to hear. He quivers as he stands up, obviously an effort to do so. Wrinkled as he is, curious as to how an elf could be in such a horrid state.

"Treason, my lord! Of the house Norsem, attacking the lands of which my house hath been given, driving us into hiding, he is an ungodly man, who seeks to destroy all not within his power, I come today to bring this to m'lord emperor, of whom I hold in the highest regard, this man.. This Knight, claims us falsity, and ruefully attempted an attack, one which sadly.. Succeeded, I come here today with a plea, my men and my house are in rubble. From that man. A thousand years of history, tapestries, words and legacies. Gone in the flick of a finger, we are a weakened house, though support only the empire in time of need. We do our duty, one of which I can not say this 'knight' does..! I come here today, asking justice be held.."

Jaehaeyrs's lungs begin to swell, coughing violently as he does. The effort to utter these words obviously of great import, seemingly sweating as he says them. Jaehaeyrs's gaunt eyes meet Godfrey's. His head slowly turning, meeting the duke's. Disdain clearly evident upon them, he searches around the hall, wearily making a cry, as Norsem's eyes flare with rage, his hand drawing softly upon his sword, his golden chair falling to his chest, a small clink as it does. His foot clambering softly upon the aged stone of the hall. Tears slowly falling from his shallow eyes, seemingly genuine, fury and rage within his words. Though seemingly remaining calm soon after, straightening his robe.

The Crowd erupts with gasps, stares.. And all eyes turn towards Jon Norsem and his banner men. His nostrils flaring as the crowd looks upon him, and color creeps up Norsem's neck.

[the GOAT of the craft 606]

Rhazev coughs abruptly, taking one step from the crowd. As the crowd quietens down he begins to speak;

"Now now, me opinion may not mean much 'round 'ere no more, but I know a liar when I see one. I seem t' remember that Lornas fella 'ating Oren too. Fireeyes never served Oren, yer just chattin' out yer arse to get someone in trouble now, aren't ye lad? Wit' the recent disappearance o' James Adelban, it seems t' be me own duty t' represent tha 'ouse. I call ye out for what ye really are, yer a liar, and a shitty one at tha'."

Rhazev folds his arms, looking at the Fireeyes figure with a look of disgust on his face.