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Post by kight on Mar 25, 2009 20:33:36 GMT 1
Rigoletto had been out for a ride, as he was out one could see that the sky was darkening a sigh that the weather, was taking a turn of the worsted.
As he turned back to head for Prince John's castle, it started to rain lightly he stopped his horse taking out a blanket that had been in his horse saddle bag that was a large blanket clock, that would help keep his horse dry for it looked like it was going to only get worse with the rain.
Rigoletto, then moved to get back into the saddle drawing his cloak closer & started to move once more. Soon the, rain started to come harder & heaver. Flashes of lighting came across the sky & the rumbled of thunder could be heard over head, Rigoletto was not going to push his horse to run for it could ruin his horse if he did so.
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Post by luther on Mar 28, 2009 13:44:41 GMT 1
A Shrill breeze wrapped around Luther’s face as he absently tugged his jerkin over his broad shoulders; rain dribbling down the ivory flesh sheathing his face as his eyes scanned the horizon; absently seeking any movement or sign that the agonising storm would wane. London was far enough away from his home to provide a fleeting relief from the oppressing, stifled air that surrounds Nottingham. Rhys had finally returned from his escapades in the Holy Land long enough to request his younger brothers presence in the majestic capital city.
The streets were shrouded in an unfathomable amount of grime and dirt, barely concealed even by the thrumming rain and Luther shrugged his furs around his shoulders. Just why Rhys had decided to meet in the most deprived and hovel like part of London was beyond him, and why he couldn’t take the short ride up to Nottingham instead of tearing him away from his family was also a mystery to behold. Still, the rain and new city in whole was refreshing and he slowly began to feel the tension languidly ebb from his weary muscles.
He tentatively raised a hand to rub the water from his pale eyes as he absently scanned the streets that lay befallen before him. Dilapidated stone buildings lay in sombre rows, uniform and dull as a sigh wormed through his lips as he scanned his surroundings in a feeble attempt to quell the frustration that smarted his chest. He had no idea where he was. Why did everything in London look exactly the same?
The ominous shadow of Westminster palace loomed absently on the horizon as his hand fell down to his side and a light growl etched the air in frustration. He urged his mare forward a smile furling onto his face as he saw the broad berth of another horse and rider up ahead. His voice when he spoke was jovial and friendly, after all he had heard tales of Londoners disdain for foreigners and Wales wasn’t to popular at the moment.
‘ ’ Cuse me squire, you know where I could find the Queen inn?’
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Post by kight on Mar 28, 2009 23:02:02 GMT 1
Rigoletto heard the rumbling of the thunder again, the storm was not about to let up any time soon. It was going to be a cold & long ride back to the castle, that is if he did not stop in the town that was just before the castle perhaps a better choose but, might not be the safested for him any way.
But, it would come down to this storm & his stallion, he would not risk his horse because of his pride & he would, if nothing else say with his horse to see that he was taken care of & tended to well until the storm had pasted.
As he rode the water & rain ran down his cloak & over his black armor then ether to his horse that was covered or this saddle & the ground below.
Puddles had started to form on the ground, the poodles where prickled as the rain hit them, or his horse walked in them. He remained already keeping awake, as he watched the things around him.
Nothing yet but, the storm was to the point you could only make out shapes & shadows a short distance away. As he watched he saw another shape as it appeared, a horse & rider from the looks of it. Yes, that was what it was as they approached closer. But, Rigoletto held his guard up not sure what would happen, if they would try something or if they gusted wanted to speak.
Then the rider approached speaking to him, likely the rider did not know who he was or they would not have stopped him. For good reasons but, at this man’s words he drew back on his horse’s rains drawing him to a stop.
He looked at him; his eyes flickered over the man that was on the other horse. He had not seen him around before but, then he could be passing threw. And that would help to explain why he had asked the question that he had, he might not know the land to well or in this storm he could have lost his bearings.
He spoke his voice, hallow because of the helm but, much still like the thunder that rumbled "It is about a mile, if you stay on this road & continue on it"
With that he watched to see what the man would say or do, not sure if this man was friend or foe, so it lifted him with a very guarded mind & mood on top of it all.
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Post by luther on Mar 29, 2009 20:06:38 GMT 1
‘It is about a mile, if you stay on this road & continue on it.’
Luther cautiously inclined his head to the man that appeared sheathed in every imaginable plate of armour, each jet black. Luther felt a wave of panic ripple through his chest as he absently scanned the streets that curled and smarted away in tendrils of fractured cobbles. He must have been on th farthest outskirts of the majestic city or some sub terrain standing just outside it’s gates in the least. The faint slope of Westminster palace was visible, just smarting the farthest horizon as he awkwardly scanned around.
He didn’t exactly want to befriend the man before him, especially considering he was impudent enough not even to raise his visor out of courtesy. There was just something odd about him, something sinister that flushed your body red and racked it with a peculiar shiver. Luther felt his fingers flirt awkwardly with the sleeve of his tunic, unsure of particularly how to proceed. It was hardly befitting to sit and talk to the man and yet despite the inherent oddness that surrounded him, Luther was magnetised by the knights presence as he attempted to rip his eyes away from the man’s heavily armoured appearance.
‘Tell me, what is a night like you doing in the slums of London? Surely you should be resting easy in the castle squire?’His words were easy, tentative and yet he couldn’t bear to keep the wave of sarcasm shroud his heavily accented voice. He was after all, overtly prejudiced when it came to the upper classes.
Luther absently shrugged the thick shroud of furs around his shoulders, eyes prophetically scanning the erstwhile surroundings in an attempt to distance a mile. It shouldn’t take long, no more than ten minutes what with the rain yet he couldn’t readily tear himself from the man before him. The knight, the Black Knight as it seemed, was unlikely to be in London for anything less than his master. And surely there was only one man in the entirety of the city that could command any knights, let alone one so ominous and sinister as this.
‘Are you here for Prince John?’ The words were blurted from his mouth before he had time enough to quell them.
In truth, Luther held relative to no interest in the trivial squabbles associated with politics today, it was pathetic. Men run into battle for a king they’ve never readily heard of, for a cause that makes no sense without second guessing either. Back in the days when Luther himself had been on the front line it was for real wars, real arguments and offenses; not some petty disagreement between brothers or Richards inability to contain himself in the Holy Land. They were all fools; Knights, horsemen and he hated to say it soldiers alike. He missed it, charging into battle and yet he’d readily spend an eternity outside Nottingham’s gates instead of prancing into a war in the sun soaked desert.
He absently shook himself from his reverie as droplets of water sheathed his face, tumbling and dribbling down his fair cheeks. ‘What does one of Prince John’s Knights do then?’ He smirked, some of his sought after confidence returning in magnificent waves, flooding his chest until he poignantly raised his eyebrows at the man.
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Post by kight on Mar 29, 2009 22:45:58 GMT 1
Rigoletto looked at him, when he spoke was he gusting with him or did he question him on it? “Yes” He watched the man threw his visor, he did not raise it for his own reasons. After all he wish to be hardly know here even, if at one point the had been. Throw that had been many years ago, some would say in a different life.
He watched as he plated with his tunic, the man appeared to fear him as many did & he should for good reason, his armor allow was enough to make many quiver with fear let alone to upset him & find his wrath on them. Like a roaring fire, the scored everything it touch or a hurricanes that defecated everything that it touched. He was not always this way dark & deadly but, at this time it was the part he would play after all he was being paid greatly for his deeds.
At the mans, second words, his eyes narrowed he had taken less from others & the man was lucky he was not unhorsed because of them. “What I choose to do & as for resting, I will in do time” What he was doing here or that was not the mans concern & he made it clear in his words he had spoken.
He did not miss the man as his eyes keep flickering on his armor, as if entranced with it or something in that manor. He spoke once more his tone cold & sharp like a knife. “And you would do well to hold your tough, when speaking such words”
He cared less on what people tough of his title, after all it was just that a title that he had worked for. Some where given title & he knew that he was one of them but, he had appeared new title with his own deeds & actions, a title that made men fear those with in the night & to do wrong to those they should not.
Rigoletto, looked at the man as he spoke again his tone like a razor as he spoke “Why do you ask?” He waited to see what the man would say, since he was not sure yet what it would be or if he would say anything.
Then Rigoletto heard the mans lasted words & spoke “What is needed but, then for some of use it is to keep many with in there place” And that was broad indeed but, it could be fine as well like keep those of no case under foot or something like that, Rigoletto rarely put people under such presser but, he was not one to be pushed.
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Post by luther on Mar 30, 2009 14:51:53 GMT 1
‘What is needed but, then for some of use it is to keep many with in there place’
Luther cautiously narrowed his eyes, fingers splaying out on the reigns of his mare as he squared his shoulders, eyes absently scanning the man before him with a predatory smile. The man’s words made little sense and even dimmed by the rain his bravado was exceedingly amusing. He seemed so overtly sure of his standard and prince it was laughable and he felt himself stifle a wave of hysterics with an ill formed cough. He was a fool, laughing in the face of a man that could no doubt wield swords as Achilles himself but the way he looked was far to humours to be kept under wraps. Did the man truly think he looked brave and strong whilst encased in black armour? Luther’s previous wave of panic contorted painfully in his stomach; don’t push it you egit! He may be a plank but he still has a bloody big sword.
A gentle smile flitted cautiously onto Luther’s face as rain tracked and etched his alabaster skin; marring the pristine ivory with crystalline tears. ‘Must be nice, all that money. Say, tell me what are you doing now? Going anywhere nice to do his Grace’s business?’
Luther’s mouth slammed shut, teeth fiercely biting the pliable flesh of his lip as he cursed under his breath. Dammnit. Rumours had been floating around Nottingham for weeks, months even regarding Prince John’s play for the throne in spite of his own brother’s welfare. Then of course there was the rumour regarding Guy of Gisbourne’s attempt on his Majesty’s life in the holy land a few years past but one should never, ever speak of such things to Prince John’s knight, his special knight as it seemed and Luther felt himself wince. He’d be lucky, he supposed if he wasn’t skewered for the mere insinuation.
He tentatively tightened his grip on the reigns of his horse, eyeing the man and following track carefully. The dirt road that he was to follow stretched ominously into the darkness as he carefully smiled at the man before him. He could kick his mare into a gallop and be into the inn in no less than five minutes at a push and surely the armour clad knight wouldn’t dare attempt anything whilst Luther himself was surrounded by endless civilians, innocent and good? But what if the man ploughed on anyway; Silence the pathetic welsh guard that knew too much at any cost. What would Edolie and Harry and little Beth do come winter time? The thought irked him as his imagination oared inside him, fierce and completely foolish. He was overreacting, he had to have been right?
Carefully, a gentle smile furled onto his face and he inclined his head toward the man before carefully moving his eyes back to the man before him. He honestly couldn’t predict what he would do and the though urged a fresh wave of panic to shred his bones. ‘Well, I should no doubt be off. Just up the road you said? The inn I mean.’
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Post by kight on Mar 31, 2009 2:30:27 GMT 1
The thunder rumbled over head, so it would be wise to start moving soon. For it would take a bit to get to a place to get out of the rain, the rain appeared to be coming down more & more, soon one would not be able to see at all in front of them.
Rigoletto watched the man, he felt the rain as it ran over areas that where not fully incased in armor & other then that he heard the rain as it hit along his helm. He did not miss, the man squire his shoulders, if he was working to intimidate him it was sorely not working, it only made the man look like a fool.
Rigoletto knew that he could take almost any man with, in this land but, he only fought when he had to or had to prove a point that he just might have to make. At the man words to him on the money must be nice, hi fingers moved to rested on the handle of his sword. He was growing tired of this talk with this man that asked things he should not
He moved to start to draw his sword that had rested at his side. But, held as his eyes flickered his fingers lightly twitched at the want to draw but, he held back doing so as he released his sword allowing it to run back into his sheet.
At the mans second words on the inn, Rigoletto spoke “Yes” He had needs for the money he earned, soon all would be well & good, of course when this happened he was sure he would be held in prison for his crime.
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Post by luther on Mar 31, 2009 16:34:04 GMT 1
‘Yes’
Luther’s eyes absently tightened as the image of his own broad body slumped over as the man’s drawn sword was menacingly coated with a sheath of crimson. He didn’t know what to do or what he could readily say to ease he man’s discomfort as his sword, vicious and cold shone in the everlasting downpour. He smiled tentatively shooting the man a relative smile that was overtly taut and forced upon his face.
‘Well then, I shall take my leave of you Sir. Thanks for the directions and have a nice life.’ He inclined his head, eyes carefully narrowed at the man, gauging his reaction. He could still have enough fire to lop his head off if the mood struck him and Luther felt a wince contort his features.
Cautiously he back his mare away from the man’s shooting a pitiful glance around the grime ridden street as with one fleeting glance he kicked his girl into a canter. He needed to shrug off the rising wave of panic that flooded his system as he carefully rounded a steep corner, drawing an agonisingly tight breath as he brought trembling hands to wearily rub over his eyes, revelling in the sheets of chilled rain that absently played over his tired face. He needed sleep and warmth; both of which he could find in the relative safety of the inn, if ever it was to be found.
Coughing and carefully shrugging his furs farther over his shoulders he bit down absently on his lip, mending his body farther into his mare as he set off for the elusive tavern. Rhys would bloody well pay for dragging him out here. Cautiously shooting a glance over his shoulder and satisfied that the ominous Knight was still ambling along considerably behind him, he allowed Bethedina to slow as the rain fell in tendrils of aquiline beauty as the swaying sign, garishly proclaiming the Inn lay dormant up ahead. Rhys, would defiantly pay.
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Post by kight on Mar 31, 2009 22:14:25 GMT 1
Rigoletto watched the man, even in the rain it was clear that the man feared him. And for the moment that was bested, he could not aford freinds for it could be what placed them in danger later. Somthing he was not about to do, he watched the man leave saying nothing to his words.
He light touched his stallions sides & his stallion learch forword moving & heading for a a warmer place but, if he could he would avoide the inn for in the end it would not be realy good.
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