The_gladiator
Avatar of Fantasy
- Joined
- Mar 1, 2007
- Posts
- 24,510
Love and War, it’s all the same to me
The summer villa was designed in the elven style. This meant that its structure was interwoven with the trees of a small forest at the edge of the capital. One couldn’t exactly say that it was far from the bustle of the city, yet it at least attempted to embrace a level of tranquility that the palace would never be able to manage.
A half-elf stalked through the hallways of the villa like he owned the place. He didn’t, but you almost wouldn’t know that by the number of salutes he received, or even nods of respect or acknowledgements that came his way. He returned nods here and there and a few of the salutes. He did not own this place, nay, his dear friend did. The princess. He almost had to check himself. She would be queen soon enough. Even now her human father was dying. Old git had gone and gotten himself bitten by some snake or something. Some of the healers gave him weeks to live, some said it could be as long as a year.
However long he might have, power seeks a vacuum. The king’s enemies had stirred and the Southee’s, a less than affectionate term for the humans in the southlands had gone to war. Rumor had it that his friend wanted to lead a diplomatic mission to the southern province, bargain for peace or some such nonsense. She had the army strength, destroy them all. Yet, the south was known for their abilities in magic, so the half-elf’s plan was probably based more on bravado than actual good sense.
Samnon, more commonly known as Sam wasn’t sure what his part was in all this, why had his princess summoned him to her father’s summer villa, essentially his fellow half-elf’s personal court for these last 10 years since the death of their mothers in an accident that the king could still not explain to this day. Samnon suspected that the king and his daughter had had a falling out, but he didn’t really know. He Afterall had been embroiled in other matters.
Sam had found that though he chaffed in the military, mocked for his less than pure human heritage, there were ways to profit from the military, and those that valued his skills. Those that would pay handsomely for passage through the elder forests south of the capital. The military had thought Sam every inch of those forests and could he be blamed for using that knowledge to his advantage. He conveniently didn’t tell the princess about these less than reputable deals, plausible deniability and all that. However, she was not stupid, he was sure she suspected him of something, why else would she have kept him away from her court for so long. Surely it wasn’t because her father didn’t approve of Sam, as if half-elves were dirty, his own daughter was one. To Sam’s knowledge she didn’t give a damn what her father thought. To Sam this meant there was some other reason.
While on that subject what did she want with him now? Why now? He suspected he knew. An informant had told him of the proposed peace negotiations, it had to deal with that. Samnon’s underworld connections surely started with smuggling things through the forest but these days most of his business was in information, and he heard whispers from most corners of the kingdom. It was that that kept him around, why none of the king’s nobles had called for his execution. He knew too much. That being said he did not feel exactly certain that he knew what exactly she wanted with him now that she had called him home—for this had once been just that his home. His mother was handmaid to the king’s elven bride after all. Sam didn’t believe in coincidence; with the advent of civil war surely the princess wanted him for something specific regarding that matter.
He straightened the brown tunic of one of her army rangers, for in this situation he was in the guise of his military persona. Let anyone question his right to be there. None would, he knew that for a certainty. He might be living a double life, but the very public life he led was as commander of all the scouts of her army, no one would dare question his presence in the Villa. He tucked a stray lock of his black hair back into the leather thong that held it at the base of his neck, before he unceremoniously banged on the princess’s door with the butt of his spear by way of announcing himself. The stormy blue gray of his eyes boring into the wood, as if punishing the oaken planks for standing in his way. He was in a hurry. Her message had indicated some sort of urgency. Yet, even here so far from the heart of the capital, he had to observe some niceties.
The summer villa was designed in the elven style. This meant that its structure was interwoven with the trees of a small forest at the edge of the capital. One couldn’t exactly say that it was far from the bustle of the city, yet it at least attempted to embrace a level of tranquility that the palace would never be able to manage.
A half-elf stalked through the hallways of the villa like he owned the place. He didn’t, but you almost wouldn’t know that by the number of salutes he received, or even nods of respect or acknowledgements that came his way. He returned nods here and there and a few of the salutes. He did not own this place, nay, his dear friend did. The princess. He almost had to check himself. She would be queen soon enough. Even now her human father was dying. Old git had gone and gotten himself bitten by some snake or something. Some of the healers gave him weeks to live, some said it could be as long as a year.
However long he might have, power seeks a vacuum. The king’s enemies had stirred and the Southee’s, a less than affectionate term for the humans in the southlands had gone to war. Rumor had it that his friend wanted to lead a diplomatic mission to the southern province, bargain for peace or some such nonsense. She had the army strength, destroy them all. Yet, the south was known for their abilities in magic, so the half-elf’s plan was probably based more on bravado than actual good sense.
Samnon, more commonly known as Sam wasn’t sure what his part was in all this, why had his princess summoned him to her father’s summer villa, essentially his fellow half-elf’s personal court for these last 10 years since the death of their mothers in an accident that the king could still not explain to this day. Samnon suspected that the king and his daughter had had a falling out, but he didn’t really know. He Afterall had been embroiled in other matters.
Sam had found that though he chaffed in the military, mocked for his less than pure human heritage, there were ways to profit from the military, and those that valued his skills. Those that would pay handsomely for passage through the elder forests south of the capital. The military had thought Sam every inch of those forests and could he be blamed for using that knowledge to his advantage. He conveniently didn’t tell the princess about these less than reputable deals, plausible deniability and all that. However, she was not stupid, he was sure she suspected him of something, why else would she have kept him away from her court for so long. Surely it wasn’t because her father didn’t approve of Sam, as if half-elves were dirty, his own daughter was one. To Sam’s knowledge she didn’t give a damn what her father thought. To Sam this meant there was some other reason.
While on that subject what did she want with him now? Why now? He suspected he knew. An informant had told him of the proposed peace negotiations, it had to deal with that. Samnon’s underworld connections surely started with smuggling things through the forest but these days most of his business was in information, and he heard whispers from most corners of the kingdom. It was that that kept him around, why none of the king’s nobles had called for his execution. He knew too much. That being said he did not feel exactly certain that he knew what exactly she wanted with him now that she had called him home—for this had once been just that his home. His mother was handmaid to the king’s elven bride after all. Sam didn’t believe in coincidence; with the advent of civil war surely the princess wanted him for something specific regarding that matter.
He straightened the brown tunic of one of her army rangers, for in this situation he was in the guise of his military persona. Let anyone question his right to be there. None would, he knew that for a certainty. He might be living a double life, but the very public life he led was as commander of all the scouts of her army, no one would dare question his presence in the Villa. He tucked a stray lock of his black hair back into the leather thong that held it at the base of his neck, before he unceremoniously banged on the princess’s door with the butt of his spear by way of announcing himself. The stormy blue gray of his eyes boring into the wood, as if punishing the oaken planks for standing in his way. He was in a hurry. Her message had indicated some sort of urgency. Yet, even here so far from the heart of the capital, he had to observe some niceties.