The Broken Throne (for TheAnnoyingNoob)

[Xatarias]

Grup scrunches his brow as you leave the chamber, bearing what items you see fit for him to carry.


"My people made their home on the Great Steppes before we conquered several city states and found the trappings of civilization to our liking," He gives you an apologetic look, as if this explained why you were both in the present situation. "In those days, we were many tribes, each following the Old Way. Life was harder then and it made our people hard too, including our women. Spear maidens vowed not to take a man that was not her equal in battle."


You traverse the arched walkway overlooking a lush courtyard garden below. There aren't many nobles left in the palace, but the ones that are around point and whisper at you and your odd companion.

 

[TheAnnoyingNoob]

I do my best to ignore the whispers as we walk, though I find it harder than I had expected. "It seems the two of us are quite the spectacle. The garden will be an adequate place for my lesson I believe, yes?" Stopping suddenly, I turn to the nearest whispering noble and give them a hard look. "If I may intrude, what exactly has you whispering behind my back like a child?"

 

[Xatarias]

The aristocrat quails under your stare and squeaks, "N-nothing Highness!"


He and his fellows depart in short order, but your exchange seems to have drawn even more gossip-mongering. No one is so obtrusive as to talk within earshot, but you definitely notice a sidelong glance or two.


"They will have to become used to the idea of orcs among them," Grup yawns, wholly unconcerned, "You shouldn't let such gnats concern you, Roxana."


His words are kind, but you suspect their murmurings of scandal don't feature the brutish orc, but rather the improper conduct of one bookish princess. No doubt your walking with Grup could be misconstrued as fraternizing with the enemy... Not that they had any objections to it when Tu'rock burst into the throne room.


"The gardens will do nicely, Roxana... So long as you don't mind all the prying eyes."

 

[TheAnnoyingNoob]

Snorting derisively I continue on, lowering my voice. "The cowards didn't seem interested enough to gossip among themselves when your cousin strode into the throne room. No, they're talking about me. The only one of all of them who has the heart to act rather than cower like a ratty dog kicked out of the house by its alcoholic master." I sigh and allow myself to speak regularly again. "Who am I kidding, they're talking about me because I'm with you. I'll have to ask the maids what they've heard later. No one ever cares what the servants hear. As for prying eyes, perhaps they will drive me to do better."

 

[Xatarias]

Grup nods and follows you down a curling set of stairs down into the lush palace gardens. Fencers practiced here from time to time, but certainly never someone as high as your lofty rank... And definitely not a woman. Your instructor quickly locates a patch of lawn near some rose bushes and sets down his burden of texts on a nearby bench.


"If you would please assume a...," Grup scrunches his grizzled face, clearly grasping for a word he doesn't know. "A gru'tik... Ready yourself, highness."


You do your best to head his instructions, moving your blade this way and that, approximating maneuvers that you only just learned about with a few minutes study. Grup quickly calls the process to a halt.


"Forgive me, Princess. But do you have any experience with this sort of thing?"

 

[TheAnnoyingNoob]

Taking the opportunity to catch my breath, I wait several seconds before replying. "Please, Grup, Roxana is fine. I'm hardly a princess anymore. To answer your question; no. You caught me in the middle of my first attempt at this kind of thing only minutes ago."

 

[Xatarias]

"Roxana then... Forgive me, I had assumed you had some experience if yo-" He sees your face and hurriedly interjects, "I don't mean to imply you lack potential, simply that we will need to start with... The basics."


You are quickly relieved of your sword and situated opposite of your hulking instructor. Mimicking Grup's pose, you assume a stance similar to many of the "readied" stances you observed in the manuals.


"A novice must first learn to keep their feet," Grup instructs, "Maintaining distance and reacting to your opponents movements... Is what you will learn first."


He shifts forward and you reflexively lean back. Grup's nods his approval and gives one measured step towards, which you respond to with a stumbling shuffle back. For several grueling minutes, you try to keep pace with the orc warrior who, despite what his size might have suggested, moves with a supreme grace that makes your own shambling attempts look like that of a toddler.


The work is grueling, dusty... And oddly satisfying. By the end you are sore and worn out, but Grup turns out to be an excellent teacher. You feel like real progress has been made even if you weren't even allowed to swing your sword.


You feel the sun's heat dissipate as it slips behind the walls of the courtyard. How long had you been out here? This much time outdoors would no doubt lead to a very unfashionable tan, not that you didn't have bigger problems. You would need to hurry unless you wanted to show up to Tu'rok's dinner sweaty and with the hem of your gown caked in dirt!

 

[TheAnnoyingNoob]

For a moment I'm tempted to go to dinner just as I am, but I've been improper enough today. "My thanks for all you've taught me, Grup, but I'm afraid I must be going." Rushing off without another word I hunt down a female servant and quickly explain the situation, requesting that she draw a bath and set out a dress worthy of the occasion. As I'm about to leave though, I pause and invite her to attend as well.

 

[Xatarias]

The efficiency of the palace staff doesn't fail to disappoint. When you reach your chambers, your attendant Tara is waiting with a steaming bath scented with rose petal and lavender.


Your personal servant helps you undress and lets you slip into the warm water. She works with practiced efficiency, washing, drying, and braiding your hair with the crystal flowers that had belonged to your mother.


Tara bears the elegant looks that all palace handmaidens seem to have. Even with her head shaved and body clothed in a simple breezy gown, her graceful form and exotic, angular features could not be mistaken for anything but beautiful. She doesn't say a word, she rarely does, but her presence alone is soothing to you. Despite your vast difference in caste, a special bond has been forged between you over the years of her service. You don't feel embarrassed at her touch, indeed there have been times in the past when her lingering hand rendered more service than a simple washing. You could make such requests of any servant, and many nobles did, but Tara's companionship seemed more than the simple dynamic of a servant fulfilling the demands of her master.


Of course there was no time to relax under the administrations of Tara's gentle touch, and both of you know it.


"I laid out the silks you received at your nameday last year," she says quietly, finishing with your hair. "Would you like me to help you with them?"

 

[TheAnnoyingNoob]

I use my time in the bath to relax and unwind, uncertain as to what the night holds for me. Slipping deeper into the water, I let out a tired sigh. I should have worn something simpler for my session with Grup, rather than dirty a proper dress. But what was done was done, and the world moved on. What mattered now was Tu'rok's dinner, and how I would present and conduct myself. As Tara finished with my hair I felt... Disappointed? Not quite, but close not. If only we could remain here in the privacy of my own quarters for the night and just forget all about Tu'rok and politics.


I could feel myself slipping into a daydream. I gave up on everything and became a servant, just like Tara... But her words pulled me back to the present. "Yes, Tata," I replied, using her childhood nickname I hadn't used since... How long had it been? I smiled inwardly at that thought. We'd been together so long I couldn't even keep the details straight. "I would appreciate your help." With a tired groan, I lift myself from the bathwater and glance about for a towel.

 

[Xatarias]

Tara dutifully wraps you in a fluffy towel before spreading the dressing screen next to the fire so you won't catch cold. She leaves you to dry yourself and quickly returns with a long, flowing length of silk.


The garment is in the eastern style, an artfully embroidered crimson wrap that curls seductively up your midriff into a series of cunning folds about your bosom that leaves you properly modest... Barely. The accompanying skirts are snug at your hips and flare magnificently about your calves, slashed with lace that offers enticing glimpses of your legs. The dress flatters and enhances in ways that are borderline scandalous and it makes you wonder why Tara picked it.


Tara turns your full-length mirror- another heirloom from your mother's side- towards you, and your heart flutters. The slightest motion results in a shimmering flowing of silks... Like a flickering flame.


"Our... Captors are said to be lovers of dancing," Tara murmurs, brushing scented oil about your wrists and collarbone, "I thought something... Impressive might catch their attention."

 

[TheAnnoyingNoob]

Before even answering I twirl around in front of the mirror, admiring the dress. Part of me is horrified by her choice; thinks that with everything else I've done that this is sure to be scandalous, but it is a beautiful dress...


"I love it, Tata." I say with a sigh, "If only I were wearing it for a more... Joyous occasion. I hadn't yet thought of them as captors, but I suppose that is there position now." Turning to her, I take her hand in my own. "I meant what I said earlier; come with me! If we hurry, we can still get you ready in time." Gods knew I would need a friend with me tonight. "After all, I'll need someone to dance with."

 

[Xatarias]

Tara flushes at your suggestion, as she always does when you openly acknowledge your less-than-proper relationship. Over the years, you've realized that these reactions are not the result of personal shame or embarrassment, but rather fear for your reputation. A noble could be expected to have close, even carnal, relations with their staff. But true friendship? That was something to be reserved for your peers and equals.


"I would be honored to accompany you... As your attendant." Tara's firm tone is somewhat undercut by the slightest twitch at the corners of her lips.


"I doubt you will be lacking for dance partners. Seeing you like this... Everyone will know that the spirit of our people hasn't left the palace. We aren't truly beaten, not yet."

 

[TheAnnoyingNoob]

I can hardly stop myself from letting out a girlish giggle. "Of course, Tara. As my attendant." Taking a step back, a wide grin splits my face, and I teasingly comment, "You know, you look so cute when you worry about me."


I continued before she could respond, "But regardless, we have previous little time before tonight's... Festivities? And we still need to prepare you. If you wish to prove we are unbeaten, then consider my wardrobe your own tonight, and let me know what I can do to help. I'm sure the two of us will be more impressive than I could ever be, even if we simply go as lady and servant."

 

[Xatarias]

"Roxana, a handmaiden can't be seen in her mistress's garments out in society. Just imagine what your fath-"


She breaks off, flushing at her verbal slip up. She murmurs a quiet apology beforing busying herself with the final touches of your outfit.


Once you are readied to her satisfaction, you help Tara slip into her own gown of a much simpler cut. Your servant is remarkable pretty in the well-fitted white linen garment, but it is clear that its intended design is to be a foil to your own striking attire... And with everyone's eyes on the fabulously dressed princess, no one would pay any attention to her unobtrusive attendant, watching and listening.

 

[TheAnnoyingNoob]

Oh Tara, I think to myself, I'm sure we could find you something I haven't worn in forever. They'd never even know but, if you're own choice of dress for the evening is anything to go by, I suppose you have a plan. Sighing, I give her a confident smile and turn to leave. "We can't have much time left now, Tara, best we get going. And... Don't worry about father, I'm sure he's still out there."

 

[Xatarias]

You exit your chambers, Tara following close behind. Passing through the halls, more than a few courtiers are left dumbstruck at your passing. One adorable little page boy looks up at you adoringly before tripping over his own feet and scurrying away.


You soon reach the grand hall. Absent of its usual trappings of banners and gleaming silverware, the expansive space has been left mostly bare with only a few food-laden tables lining the periphery. Overhead, a starscape of paper lanterns illuminates the rafters. Officers of Lu'rak's army and what you assume are their families stand in small groups, conversing and laughing as lively pipe and drum music rises over the din. You see no sign of the prince himself.


A group of utterly terrified-looking nobles congregate near the entrance, unsure of what to do.

 

[TheAnnoyingNoob]

Approaching the gathering of nobles, I greet them with a smile and curtsy. "It's nice to see that nobody is regretting their decision to hold a banquet in honor of the new Prince. If I may make a polite suggestion, I would recommend you get to know some of the Orcs gathered here, or at least pretend to have some spine. You look like frightened children huddled together as you are, and you're obstructing the entrance."


I can't believe my father had any use for these people. Perhaps it was politics that kept him from ridding the court of their likes, gods know I would have. Waiting to see the nobles response I also scan the assembled Orcs for any sign of Grup, resolving to flit from group to group as unobtrusively as possible should he be absent.

 

[Xatarias]

For all the affection you have for your father, you have to admit that his traditionalist outlook was the source of many problems- chief among them, a sprawling aristocracy that sheltered a class of mewling bureaucrats that barely kept the government running in peacetime. Now that a true crisis was upon the city...


They twitter at your approach. One high ranking minister grovels before you, making excuses for himself and his fellows.


"Please you highness, we were unsure what was proper with your father's absence. Without him to begin the festivities-"


The sound of ceramic shattering over the polished stone floor cuts him off. It doesn't take you long to locate the source as a impetuous young noble brandishes his gilded sword at a nearby orc. A young girl tugs at the noble's arm, trying to defuse the situation.

 

[TheAnnoyingNoob]

I let out a tired sigh. "Perhaps I was too harsh. Forgive m-" At that moment the sound of shattering pottery pulls my attention from the nobles.  Spotting the young noble who, in all likelihood, was responsible for the incident, I quickly stride across the room in his direction. Gods above, I may yet live to wish they all cowered in some dark corner after all.


Harnessing all my anger, my fears and uncertainty I bellow, "Girl, let go of him! And you, boy, lower the damned sword!"  Quickly glancing at the target of his anger I lower my voice, though I make sure all can still here me. "Now, one at a time; what is this about?" I give a slight nod to the noble who appears to have started it all, and wait for a response.

 

[Xatarias]

The young noble has the slim, fit build and handles his sword with deadly care- he likely has had some training. The orc to his credit stares levelly at the blade's point, stance wide and ready for movement, Meanwhile the young woman has all but succumbed to her nerves and lets out distressed sob.


"Forgive me, highness," The Fastalan man says, "But I cannot abandon my demand for satisfaction, even at your command. This... Barbarian was acting lecherously towards my dearest sister. The law is clear, this cur will accept my challenge- if his courage allows."


"I don't make a habit of killing boys in front of their sisters," The orc states calmly, clearly at ease with the fact that a needle-sharp sword point is mere inches from his eye.


What was already a tense situation has utterly escalated, everyone in the room is watching you. Seeing how you will deal with the situation.

 

[TheAnnoyingNoob]

Grimacing, I look to the nobles sister and then to the Orc. "Is this true? I want the truth from both of you, and nothing but." Touching my hand to the flat of the nobles blade, I firmly but gently force it down, meeting his eyes as I do so. "If so, I believe you'll get what you want. I may be wrong, but I don't believe an Orc is one to back down from a challenge."

 

[Xatarias]

"We-we were just talking," The girl all but sobs which prompts a look of vindication on the young noble's face. He no doubt would have raised his sword again were it not for your firm hand pushing against its blade. However reckless this courtier might be, the prospect of accidentally injuring the crown princess has staid his hand.


"You heard her! This orcish barbarian made advances towards my sister and caused her distress. My role as her chaperone demands I exact compensation for such a slight."


The orc snorts in derision and draws his scimitar, holding it loosely at his side.

 

[TheAnnoyingNoob]

Carefully wrapping way hand around the blade, locking eyes with him. "I understand your desire to protect your sister, and I admire you for it. Justice is a noble pursuit, but all your sister has said is that they were speaking. If anything it would appear she is distressed by your reckless, if courageous, risk in issuing such a chalk." Looking to the Orc in the same way I say, "Sir... Did you make any advances towards this young woman, or act in a way that her brother may have interpreted as lecherous? I'm inclined to believe this is all a misunderstanding, an unfortunate result of the tension and resentment some may feel for our occupiers, but I trust you will answer truthfully."

 

[Xatarias]

(Charisma roll: 13)


The Orc gives you a hard look before shrugging.


"I was simply conversing with the girl, Kal'visi. I do not believe I gave offense, but I understand you lowlanders are of... Delicate sensibilities."


The girl nods emphatically, whether she is supporting the truth of the orc's statement, or simply providing her brother an escape from his brash actions, you cannot say.

 

[TheAnnoyingNoob]

I let out a relieved sigh, choosing to ignore the remark about 'us lowlanders', instead returning my attention to the noble. "And there you have it, no advances were made and no offense was intended. Should you be inclined to disagree, and should he," I nodded in the Orcs direction, "be willing to defend himself, and he does indeed seem willing, I will still allow a duel. But not here, and not to the death. If you wish, you may take your dispute to the gardens and settle it with dulled sabers. No blows to the head, no broken bones, the first to land a blow is the victor. No one will die because a headstrong young man with good intentions was blinded by his zeal. Am I understood?" Waiting a moment for confirmation, I let go of his blade and looked to his sister, then to the Orc. "I trust the two of you will find these terms satisfactory? If not, I will address any concerns you may have now."

 

[Xatarias]

The impetuous noble licks his lips as he, seemingly for the first time, takes in the casual stance of the orc standing in front of him. No doubt he never expected a battle-hardened opponent to greet his challenge. Without trying to look uneager, he accepts your proposal.


"I would of course prefer to deal with this with bare blades as befits two proper warriors, but if the princess insists-"


"Blunted blades are for children not yet given their first scars," The orc states with a calm measured that somehow still manages to convey ample contempt for the courtier. "You made this a matter of honor, boy. I'll not have it said that I play swords with fops. Now apologize or meet me on the field as a man... Unless you intend to hide behind your liege's skirts."


The young man flushes, but before he can voice a response, a deep voice rings out in a stream of orcish. The surrounding Alamatinians let out a chorus of laughter as Grup shoulders his way towards you. He places his hand on the shoulder of the orc and whispers something into his ear. The orc looks at his challenger with dead eyes for a few tense moments before sheathing his sword in a practiced flourish. The surrounding orcish nobles immediately resume their behavior as if the confrontation hadn't even happened.

 

[TheAnnoyingNoob]

Giving the young noble one last, critical look I turned to Grup and gave a slight bow. "It's nice to see you again, Grup. I'm afraid I must apologize for the behavior of some of those present," I say, glaring at the laughing nobles. "But enough of this unpleasantness, how has your evening been since we parted?"

 

[Xatarias]

Grup deftly snatches half the hors d'oeuvres from a passing servant's platter, munching a fistful of the snacks before grunting.


"Busy. I've retained a few responsibilities in addition to my keeping an eye on you. You seem to be throwing yourself in the thick of things quickly. R'zat is a proud warrior and wouldn't have thought twice about gutting that youngling." He pauses a moment, chewing thoughtfully before continuing. "But if you'll pardon my saying, Highness, you can't prevent every conflict between our peoples."

 

[TheAnnoyingNoob]

I sighed, my shoulders sagging slightly. "None of that, Grup. You have a good head on your shoulders and I'd be happy to hear what you have to say any time." Closing my eyes I continued, "And I know I can't prevent all conflict but I feel compelled to try anyway. Tell me, if you will, when will the Prince arrive?"