The Sickness of a Chivay

[Peter Chivay 2494]

Grand Master Peter Chivay remains idle in his bed, small beads of sweat form on his forehead as his breathing becomes staggered. He slowly twists his neck, looking about the room, seeing the various members of the Order filled with sorrow and anguish.

He attempts to reveal a small smile, however all that proceeds is a stout cough as he looks about the room. Moments later, a thick silence falls about the Order members, as Velwyn and Thomas enter the room.

"Do ye' think 'es alright Vel?" Thomas says, with a almost chocked tone.

Velwyn shakes his head in pure honesty, letting the words reluctantly come from his mouth; "I... don't know."

Clenching his hand into a fist, Thomas looks away, almost appalled that his brother could fall so ill.

Finally however, Peter shows signs of life. He slowly lifts his hand to the air and motions Thomas and Velwyn over to his bedside. Already there, are Leric, Peter's squire, and Toov the giant Standard Bearer. Their heads down with defeat as they look over Peter's sick body.

"Toov... Thomas... Velwyn, cawm' closer." as small cough is followed soon after;

"You three are the Order's command now... till this illness befalls me... do me proud in my time of need." Peter takes in a large inhale after he says his few words, looking into the faces of each man as they stand idle near his bed. He finally gives each of them a small, but assuring nod.

The three step back from the bed, looking about the room at the fellow Order members.

Adeon, Iskast, Mathus, Darien, Ser Edmund, Leric, Erland, Marcus, Vulcus, Eric and lastly the servant Tanith are all present. The Herald, Giovanni, dispatched to aware Peter's various friends and allies.

None of Peter's numerous victories could have prepared him for this battle, the sickness of a Chivay.

[[ Feel free to RP post here. One of the main reasons I created this topic.

[Myoni 56]

(( Petey-boy nuuuuu! ))

Winter hammers in a stubborn nail, still trying to get the New Stables' roof in place.

[Urahra 5781]

Tanith hovers toward the back of the room, fidgeting and wringing her hands as per usual. She watches Peter, concern in her cherry-colored eyes. Her gaze roves around the room, jumping from face to face to gauge their reactions. Timidly, she clears her throat.

"M-my lord, if you need anything...I'll try my best to make you comfortable..." she mutters, face flushed. She looks down at her hands, chipping at her fingernails nervously.

[tnoy23 202]

Iskast steps forward slightly, and says "Thank you for everything pe..." He looks down toward his feet, thinking. "Thank you for everything, my lord."

[Braxis 813]

*Uthor Grunts his clothes covered in a bit of dirt. From working in filling in the "Under Belly" of Riven. As he sees the Herald he raises a brow as the man approches him and begins to speak*

"Greetings Ser Silverblade, I bring news of Ser Peter Chivay, he is ill for the time. And is bed ridden, He wished for me to tell all of the ones he knew and would have to contact him in this time."

*Uthor Sighs and brushes more dirt off him and grunts before he speaks*

"Poor Peter, he be a good lad I know he will be able to stay alive, He is a strong man and leader. And I did help him drill to be a good one. So he should know he should not feckin' die when His men need him!" *Uthor gives a short chuckle*

"Send Peter my Regards, and that I pray for him to get better. And here"

*Reaches into his puch and hands the Herald some Horens*

"For the work and Message, be safe and God's speed."

[Braehn Elendil An'Hiraeth 474]

*Walks into the Rivia keep and heads to Peter's room. As he steps in, he see's many people by his bedside. "Thomas, what is going on? What happened to Peter?"

[problematic z 477]

Adeon watches the unfolding scene grimly, letting his head drop and his gaze lower, he wonders how such a seemingly invulnerable man could fall so ill.

"This can't be natural, can it ?" he mutters to himself, he scratches the back of his head and sighs, listening to the others.

[Stevie 1598]

Caning into the room slowly, Foltest approaches the bedside of Peter, a senile smile across his face as his crown remains crooked atop his head.

"Little Peter... I do hope you won't be dying before me... lest your Uncle Henselt think of me a god, able to outlive my grandson." The old man leans in further, speaking in a form of whisper, complimented by a note of sarcasm, "And we all know how Henselt can get... he already wants me to tip the bucket, and regrets I haven't done it sooner."

Smirking widely, he leans back to straighten his posture and canes back to the door, speaking back to him as Tanith opens the door for him to exit.

"And as King, I deny you of rights to death, dear boy..."

[Chaqery 427]

Captain Toov sighs, peering down on the figure of the bedridden Chivay. His helmet rests against his hip, held there by the towering figure's left hand. He kneels to the bedside in an attempt to level out the height difference, and extends his right hand to rest upon Peter's chest.

"Rest vell, little Chivay. Ashford und I vill not fail you. I vill see you rise from zhat bed and lead zhe Vhite Rose yet, even if I have to carry you to zhe Cloud Temple myself on my back."

A faint murmur, almost a groan, is all Toov receives in response, and he closes his eyes, standing up again slowly. He balls his right fist, and clutches it over his heart against his cuirass. Lowering his head, he silently vows what he has promise, not forgetting to offer a prayer for Peter's salvation. With a low "Amen" he opens his eyes once more, and turns militantly on his heel (the motion seems second nature), exiting. Upon exiting, he places a hand on the shoulder of Ashford.

"Ve have much vork to do, Ashford. God be vith us."

[Peter Chivay 2494]

Peter groans as he slightly shifts in his bed, glancing around, he notices the heads of the numerous Order members perking up their head.

"Wh-what the...?" He states slowly, his cracked lips only slighty able to make sound.

The high command of the Rose quickly maneuvers around the bed, large, yet sad smiles adorn on their faces. Their eyes glued to Peter's body as his previously stagnant limbs begin to move.

"Bah..." Peter states, as his body ceases moving once more. He quickly glares around the room a faint smile showing as he sees tbe familiar faces.

From then on, no words are exhanged. Only hopeful expressions and prayers.

[ski_king3 0]

Moved to the Great Library. It shall be sorted into appropriate category shortly.