07-08-2014, 03:09 AM
Marquess Aquleia. A title with some contention around it. A couple Etrurian lords still hold out in what is now considered the Aquelian March, but none of them are nobles now. They are just spoiled brats who inherited their lands and belongings from their forefathers. And most of all, they are heretics. They perverted the true teachings of St. Elimine, and they shall suffer for their folly. The home of Tower of St. Elimine belongs to a true believer, to a member of the Church of the Preservation of Sanctity.
Urai Zann was such a man. He was Etrurian, part of a long line that was deaf to the perversion known as magic. Marquess Aquleia was a man with a target on his back. His loyalties had been Lycia's for a decade, while he deceived the nobility of Etruria into thinking him a patriot. With his new title, he made enemies. He was a foreigner and a traitor, a trait that bore him no good will with some of his fellow lords. But all can be forgiven in time. During the Lycian League days, the various marchs loyalties lied with varying people.
Urai wasn't alone. On his right was a tall knight, clad in white, battered armor. Most of his skin was obscured, minus the lower half of his face, which was a sickly shade and burnt and scarred. This was the Marquess' White Knight, as he called him. On Urai's left was his advisor and a bishop of the true church, Nader Botz. Surrounding him were a couple representatives of the various marches. He turned to see a woman arrive, a representative of Laus, it would seem.
The Laus family should have something in common with him. Both turned against their country to advance themselves. Perhaps he should extend to them an olive branch. He tossed the idea in his head for a bit before tossing it away. "If you can please excuse us," He said as he nodded to group around him. His White Knight followed, but Nader stayed behind, engrossed in a conversation.
He approached one of the waiters in the place. "Boy, tell me of this Cecily of Laus," he asked as he offered his empty glass. He watched as the man filled his glass, then offered it to his bodyguard. The man took a sip of it without question or complaint and stared into the crowd behind them.
"M-Miss Cecily is the niece of the current Marquess. I-I believe she is third-in-line for Laus," He studdered as he feared the larger man beside them. He feared that he was being accused of trying to poison him.
Urai just twirled his glass around staring at it's content and waiting to see what happens. "Father or mother?"
"I-I'm sorry sir?"
"Which side of her family is related to the Marquess?"
"F-father....sir," he gulped. He returned that with a question of his own. "Sorry, but I...don't think I know who you are."
Urai laughed to himself as he finally determined with wine to be safe. He took a sip and looked down at the servant. "Boy, I am Marquess Aquleia. You may have heard of me. I'm a bit of a big deal, for the moment," he took another sip before handing the glass the white knight. "I'm the reason for this celebration. We'd probably still be fighting without me."
Urai Zann was such a man. He was Etrurian, part of a long line that was deaf to the perversion known as magic. Marquess Aquleia was a man with a target on his back. His loyalties had been Lycia's for a decade, while he deceived the nobility of Etruria into thinking him a patriot. With his new title, he made enemies. He was a foreigner and a traitor, a trait that bore him no good will with some of his fellow lords. But all can be forgiven in time. During the Lycian League days, the various marchs loyalties lied with varying people.
Urai wasn't alone. On his right was a tall knight, clad in white, battered armor. Most of his skin was obscured, minus the lower half of his face, which was a sickly shade and burnt and scarred. This was the Marquess' White Knight, as he called him. On Urai's left was his advisor and a bishop of the true church, Nader Botz. Surrounding him were a couple representatives of the various marches. He turned to see a woman arrive, a representative of Laus, it would seem.
The Laus family should have something in common with him. Both turned against their country to advance themselves. Perhaps he should extend to them an olive branch. He tossed the idea in his head for a bit before tossing it away. "If you can please excuse us," He said as he nodded to group around him. His White Knight followed, but Nader stayed behind, engrossed in a conversation.
He approached one of the waiters in the place. "Boy, tell me of this Cecily of Laus," he asked as he offered his empty glass. He watched as the man filled his glass, then offered it to his bodyguard. The man took a sip of it without question or complaint and stared into the crowd behind them.
"M-Miss Cecily is the niece of the current Marquess. I-I believe she is third-in-line for Laus," He studdered as he feared the larger man beside them. He feared that he was being accused of trying to poison him.
Urai just twirled his glass around staring at it's content and waiting to see what happens. "Father or mother?"
"I-I'm sorry sir?"
"Which side of her family is related to the Marquess?"
"F-father....sir," he gulped. He returned that with a question of his own. "Sorry, but I...don't think I know who you are."
Urai laughed to himself as he finally determined with wine to be safe. He took a sip and looked down at the servant. "Boy, I am Marquess Aquleia. You may have heard of me. I'm a bit of a big deal, for the moment," he took another sip before handing the glass the white knight. "I'm the reason for this celebration. We'd probably still be fighting without me."