[Featured characters: Borus, Chris, Nash, Percival] Budehuc Castle: Outside the Castle Gates The vast plains of the Grasslands stretch out behind you, but in front of you is an absolute anomaly: there is a castle in this area. With walls covered in moss and crumbling walls, it appears quite deprecate, but yet, functional. The gates are wide open, inviting anyone, whether they be Grasslands or Zexen, inside. ===== Night had fallen over the plains, scattered with twinkling stars and lit by a sliver of moon. The path Percival walked was hardly discernable from the rest of the darkness, but his pace was steady, unhesitating. His feet remembered the way, even if his mind was elsewhere. An old friend of his father's had been kind enough to offer him a ride, as he was heading toward Budehuc to sell what was left of his crop, but Percy had jumped off the wagon and let the man go ahead hours ago. Company was nice, but he had wanted time for his own thoughts - time he would not have at the castle. He has a responsibility to uphold, and it can't be done by brooding. The castle gates appear far too soon, however. His steps begin to drag when they come into sight. Guard duty was one of the few things that Borus hated. It wasn't so much the boredom that irritated him as much as Cecile, the "Captain of the Guards." This incessantly perky and over-excited female had driven him insane in the first five minutes of his watch. He tried to keep his responses to her annoying questions short, but she just didn't take the hint. All day, and now into the evening she had prattled on, even going so far as to complain about how he was slouching, and tossing in a threat to report him to Chris if he didn't stand at full attention. And now, past dusk, the two of them were still there, and he was sure she was still talking. He isn't listening, but keeping his eyes focused on the approaching figure. It is a familiar one, even in the darkness. Cecile's chatter reaches him before he even enters the first circle of torchlight, and Percival shakes his head, only faintly amused. He has not yet had to endure guard duty here at the gates, instead finding himself on nearly constant patrol around the castle and the surrounding villages. By the sound of it, there must never be a quiet moment, and by the expressive set of Borus's shoulders, it must be a fate worse than mucking out the stables. "How goes the watch?" he calls out as he steps into the light, offering a salute to Cecile that's only a touch mocking. She's cute, and strong-willed, and will likely make a decent guard later in life, but now? She's just a child. Cecile eagerly returns the salute, and smiles brightly at the knight. Her partner is not as easily amused. Borus glares at her and then back at Percival as if wishing this fate on him. The blonde man is quickly corrected by the girl. "When he salutes, you return it, Borus." It is clear that the Swordsman of Rage is doing everything in his power to hold his temper in check. Grudgingly, he follows the child's orders...and sighs aloud. This is just the sort of game they've been playing all day...and it has worn thin beyond mention. That seems a good enough answer to the question! Percival's faint amusement blooms into a wide grin as he approaches the steps. "Honestly, old friend, I thought you knew better by now." It isn't that he wants to encourage the silly girl. Not /really/. But /he/ doesn't have to put up with her on duty, so it's no skin off his nose. "It's a good thing we have the Guard Captain here to straighten you out - what would Leo think?" Yes, he's asking for it. And whatever 'it' is, he'll take it without complaint, as long as it gives him something else to think about. Leaving home is always difficult, but never so much as it was now. "Shut up," is all that comes out of Borus's mouth. He would be in the mood to find humor in this situation had it not dragged on for six hours now. Cecile slams her staff down into the ground hard as a farce of a scowl rips across her face. "You _will not_ speak to another Fire Bringer in such a way, Borus! I don't know what Lady Chris lets you get away with, but you won't do it while under _my_ command." She bows to the ever-charming Percival. "So sorry, he needs to learn his manners." Borus just glares, again. Oh, he's going to catch hell for this one way or another, and he's fighting the urge to just bless out this child right here and now. Games were games and duty was duty, but she was eating his last bit of patience. Percival laughs, not even bothering to hide it, and offers her a sweeping bow in return. "It's quite all right, milady. We all have our off days, don't we? I assure you, we have a hard time faulting him at all, most days." He straightens and casts his gaze past the two at the gate, to the town center beyond. Vaguely, obscured by the fountain, he can see two knights that are usually under his command, one of them easily identifiable by the shine of a golden earring. He'll have to be spoken to about that - again. But for the moment, Percy is relieved to see him there. "I need a word with this troublemaker, Captain." He indicates Borus, still smiling at the little girl. "I believe his shift is nearly over, and I can replace him for that short time, if you have no objections." The look of thanks on Borus's face carries all too well. He'll owe his friend another favor, or bottle of wine, but it will be worth it. Cecile glares at him and then turns to Percival. "I've heard he's very talented with a sword. But he doesn't have to be so boring or mean." She smiles broadly at the dark haired knight--he's one of her favorites. "If you can replace him, you can have him. Maybe you could teach him to have manners." This is /too good/. "I will, milady. Just a moment." Percival leaps up the steps with a grin for Borus as he passes, and crosses the courtyard to have a few words with the soldier he'd spotted by the fountain. When he returns with the young man in tow - minus the earring - he salutes Cecile again and gestures for the knight to take his friend's place. "There you are - he's a fine soldier, and well-acquainted with the protocols Borus here is slacking on." If not for the tightness around his eyes, one might believe he's as amused as he appears. But even so, he can't resist the opportunity. "Thank you for your understanding, Captain Cecile." Cecile regards her new subordinate with admiration. There were so many well trained knights at the castle these days! Looking at Borus she barks a command, "You are dismissed!" With a half-hearted salute of disdain, the blonde knight practically waves her off as he leaves. Turning to his friend, once they are out of earshot, he says, "Thanks. Want to get a drink?" "I might as well give in to temptation." Percival hooks his thumbs on his belt and veers slightly, toward the tavern. Drowning one's sorrows is not the best way to deal with them, but after a day at home, it feels as if he can't do much else. Cecile was amusing, but not amusing enough. "It looks like you need a drink. Don't blame you, really. Was it like that the entire shift?" There is a smile on his lips, if one more faint than what he displayed for the girl. "Yes, the whole damn shift. I know we'd have to help out here at the castle, but I didn't think simple guard duty would be part of our routine." Borus looks almost guilty for a second as he realizes how obnoxious that sounds, but really...one the Six Mighty Knights performing the duty of a sentry? As they approach one of their favorite (or at least most visited places) Borus stops in his tracks. "Mind if I meet you in a few minutes? I want to get out of my armour and pick up something." Percival waves him off with an understanding grin. He knows well how heavy that armor can get after a long day. It's heavy enough on its own. "I'll get us a table." Without waiting for a reply, he pushes the door open and walks into the tavern, letting the door swing closed. It isn't /too/ crowded, which strikes him as rather strange considering the time, but it's good for them. Easier to find a table that way. He chooses their usual haunt in the corner near the stage and takes a seat, swinging his feet up onto the opposite chair to wait. Ten minutes or so later Borus returns to the tavern, dressed comfortably in slacks a red shirt. He's carrying a bottle of his own wine, and something else. He stops at the bar and gets two glasses from Anne, then passes her some money for allowing him their use. Corking fees were fair game, especially since he didn't particularly care for her Karayan spirits, given his last reaction to them. Now with the glasses and the wine, he tucks the mysterious object under his arm and makes his way towards Percival in the back. Maybe it's a bad idea to visit home like this. The thought inspires a sharp stab of guilt, but Percival can't help wondering if he should continue to make these trips. If these moods of his interfere with his duty, they can't be a good thing, and if Chris finds fault with what he's doing, well... that isn't a good thing either. The last thing he wants to do is disappoint her. His dedication is his only way of telling her some things, and if he slacks on that, he may as well give it up. And what of his allies? They deserve unwavering support - there is no halfway. It's a matter of honor. Then, there is Borus, too... a complicated matter, his friend is. "That was fast." Percy's gaze is abstracted, but he notices Borus's approach. No knight worth his spurs would fail to notice his surroundings, even lost in thought. Borus reaches the table and nods in response to his friend's mention of his quick change. He sets down the two glasses, then reaches under his arm and puts down a fancy-looking scroll. Now with both hands free, he fights the cork in the bottle and eventually wins. Putting it down, he offers an explanation for the delay in pouring it. "It needs to breathe a few minutes." There's something about the way Borus is moving...he's actually...could it be...happy? Excited? Something, but along with changing his clothes, he changed his attitude. It takes a few minutes, but that change in his friend's mood eventually gains Percival's attention, and he turns his gaze to Borus with an eyebrow raised. The note on the wine receives a nod. "Something put you in a good mood." His eyes flicker to the scroll, then back. "Going to share?" He can admit to curiosity, and it's something less depressing to think about. Moping will do him no good, after all. Taking a seat opposite Percival, Borus grins as he holds up the scroll. "Well, I promised I'd pay you back for all the times you've gotten me out of trouble, my friend. Now it seems that I can." Instead of explaining himself, the blonde knight reaches for the wine and pours two equal measures in the glasses. "So, consider this a celebration, and stop looking so glum." Well, when he puts it that way... he just gets the other eyebrow to rise. But Percival gives no protest, just straightens in his chair and lets his feet fall to the floor with a thump. "I've always considered the free entertainment payment enough, but if you insist..." Borus is right, in any case - it's time to put his depression away. He'll have plenty of time to brood about scorched fields and half-burned houses on his next round of patrol. He isn't set to go out again for another few days, so he should enjoy his downtime while he's got it. "What is it you have there, that merits this celebration?" "The free entertainment?" Borus suddenly realizes he's being mocked, but just gives a chuckle. A talented swordsman he may be, but a little slow on the draw as well. He pushes the scroll to the center of the table, but doesn't open it. With a grin, he takes a sip from the dark red wine that he forgot to introduce, but between friends who needs such protocols? "Well, you know how I asked Chris to go back to Brass a few days ago to get some supplies?" It's all in good fun, that mocking, and they both know it. Percival inclines his head with a half smile, lifting his glass but not drinking just yet. He is eyeing that scroll, debating whether or not he should take it, or wait for Borus's word to do so. "I've not been paying as much attention as I should, I admit. But yes, go on." Finally, he takes a sip. This will be worlds better for him than anything Anne can offer, although it probably won't knock him out as quickly. Shame, that. There were times Borus was nervous, but they were usually just when Chris was around and like a fool he knew not what to say to her, but this was starting to feel like one of those times. How to say it...how to say it. And will his friend be pleased? It's one of the few ways he can thank good Percival for his kindness and friendship. Borus drums his fingers on the table in frustration and then finally just grabs the scroll and breaks the seal on it, hoping his friend will take the hint and read it. Percival sets his glass down and takes the scroll with a glance up at Borus. Impatient, as always. Will his friend be driven to read it aloud, too, if he decides to wait a bit longer? But this seems to be a serious matter, so he won't indulge himself this time. Poor Borus deserves a break after stretching his patience so thin during watch. There is one thing he won't ever have to worry about - it's unlikely the good Castle Master will send Cecile out on patrol, and thank the Goddess for it. Can she even ride? Shaking his head, he unrolls the scroll to read. The scroll is written in a fancy, left-drawn hand on thick parchment, the kind used for the most formal of documents. It reads: Let it be known within the Zexen Federation and beyond that on this date, all undersigned parties have entered into a contract. We, the members of the Glazier's Guild of Zexen, having owed a great monetary debt to Lord Robert Redrum have decided to fulfill the obligation owed by rendering any and all necessary services within our trade to the villagers of Iksay. For the record of state, this union was devised by Stephen Sankerton, Guildmaster of the Glaziers Guild and Lord Borus Redrum, second son of Lord Robert Redrum, with all other necessary parties in agreement with the terms. Signed and sealed on this date, so shall it be until the end of time. (Borus's seal is stamped in a blot of red wax at the bottom, next to his scratchy signature.) It might be difficult, at first, to read Percival's reaction to the document. He isn't sure what to think, in fact, as his mind is mired first in surprise. Borus said he would try to help, but this is quite a bit beyond what he expected. It isn't just the scope of the service this had assured to the people of Iksay, but also the /cost/. Percy knows money, even if he isn't rich, and he knows just how much of it this is waving away. "Thank you." He isn't sure what else to say, but that seems woefully inadequate. It saves his people an expense they surely wouldn't have been able to pay, which means there will be more left to devote to food and the tools of reconstruction. He looks up, and his expression is quite serious, but his tone carries the depth of his gratitude. A nod is what the quiet thanks yields from Borus. Most of what happened at that village is his fault; had he not done so much damage to Karaya, they probably wouldn't have retailated so harshly. He can tell his friend isn't sure what to say, but that is fine. A promise to help was a promise, and this should certainly do some good. It's a shame the Mason's Guild doens't owe his father hundreds of thousands of potch... "This is a great help. I..." Looking down at the scroll again, Percival trails off. Brilliant. He can't think of a word to say, and here Borus is, sticking his neck out. This is more than repayment for saving him from a few embarssing situations - the two can't possibly compare, and Percy almost feels guilty for accepting it. But humility be damned. Iksay needs the help, and he will do what he can to make amends for this in his own way, and never let them know the difference. He will have to take this to them on his next leave. "They'll be sure to know. As soon as I can get this to them, they will. You're always welcome in Iksay, but now you'll be a hero to them." At a table near the stage in the back of the tavern is the space occupied by the two knights. Their discussion has been quite hushed, but now Borus raises his glass to his friend in celebration. "Ah, I appreciate the invitation and I'll be sure to take advantage of it some time in the future. Cheers." "Cheers." Percival raises his glass and lets the scroll curl up again as he sips at his wine. After a moment of thought he puts the glass down and ties the scroll again, tucking it into his belt. It should be safe there, barring an attack by a group of ineberated women. That thought isn't /nearly/ as amusing as it had been before the dance. "I hope you will. They should know the face of their savior, so to speak. Just imagine it - /two/ Great Knights in Iksay. You'll be drowned in children." "Ah, yes, Two Great Knights..." comes the ever-playful voice of one Harmonian informant seated but a few spots away from them. When did he get there? "Iksay will be singing your praises! They'll have to hire the greatest sculptors in all of Zexen to carve stone statues with the likenesses of each of them! And within days the arguments will break out, after all, why did they make Sir Percival's hair taller than that of Sir Borus? And why did they make Sir Borus bowlegged? And on and on and on until they tear down the statues and make windmills with the likenesses of each instead." Nash puts the back of his hand to his forehead in a dramatic gesture, looking up at the ceiling. "Ah, yes... It's the making of a legend. Two legends. Ah... Cheers!" With that, he lifts his glass and downs what most likely isn't his first shot of alcohol. "Tired..." mumbled the female captain as she pushes herself slowly past the door to the tavern. Budehuc Tavern, the place always reaked of alcohol. And loud rowdy men, drunk and laughing. Not a place Chris would spend her free time at but she was desperate to sit down. Sad though that Borus, Percival and Nash had to be there. Nash especially was the last person she would want to see. "Children?" Borus nearly sputters his wine at Percival's statement about his newfound heroism. But this is short-lived as his ears catch the voice of a most distrustful being sitting a table or so behind him. Turning around to confirm the presence of the Harmonian, he almost growls. This disgusting man was one he could not stand. True, he hadn't harmed Chris during their little adventure together, but the fact that this stranger was chosen for the task over himself always gave Borus a green rash flushed with hate. Returning to his seat, he shakes his head at Percival. "Someone forgot to take the trash out. It reeks of opportunitsts in this place." Percival's smile is somewhere between tolerant and just plain amused. Oh, he doesn't trust Nash any more than Borus does, but he has to admit... the man has a sense of humor. When he keeps it away from Chris, of course. And speaking of his captain, there she is, looking rather displeased at her own presence here. "Evening, milady," he calls to her, leaving his glass on the table for now. No need to invoke her ire just yet. "Care to sit at our table? I promise we're behaving today." He casts a glance at the Harmonian, and hopes the same applies to him. Really, how intolerant! Replacing his now-empty glass on the table, Nash offers Borus a pout and a vaguely hurt expression. "But Sir Borus, are you not looking forward to the glory of being a hero? A legend? Or do you just not like windmills?" He's behaving! Really! It's just that his lips are running faster than his legs might be able to. "Lady Chris! A pleasure to see you as always! You look so worn out... Well, I can certainly offer a shoulder to rest against!" He grins at her, resting his elbow on the table and his chin in his hands. Chris sighs unpleasantly as she approaches the three in the tavern. "Hi Borus, Percival" Chris murmurs slowly "I'll just sit here." Turning down her fellow knight's offer, she places herself down on one of the counter stools facing the two knights. Face Nash? No thank you. The guy was splurting out rubbish anyway. Heroes? Windmills? Was his words suppose to make sense? "Hello Nash" Chris says quickly after the old man's greeting. Maybe a bit to quick. It came out more like "HeloNsh". Chris didn't even bother trying to reply to Nash's interesting offer. As if she didn't know what he was trying to imply. "By the way, Borus. What's that scroll over there?" Chris says pointing at the scroll on the table. It took every iota of retraint Borus could muster to not stand up and pick a fight with the inebriated Harmonian. Really! Who did this scoundrel think he was, trying to make a pass at Lady Chris! Such a dog was not fit to even speak to the Silver Maiden, in Borus's opinion! There are words he wants to say to this idiot, but this is not the time, nor the place, especially with Chris in the room. Turning to the much more facinating person in the room, he smiles. It isn't that he hasn't noticed her--on the contrary, he noticed her the second she appeared---but just wasn't sure what to say. "Ah, hello milady. The scroll? I'll let Percival explain, but with all due respect it might not be something that should be shouted across the tavern." Oh yes, leave it to /him/ to appease the lady. Percival smirks into his wine, shaking his head, letting his gaze stray to Nash again. He had a lot of nerve to flirt like that. But it doesn't worry him much - Chris doesn't appear to be any more thrilled with the Harmonian than she is with his own presence, or Borus's. She has been prickly lately, and he'd just as soon keep his distance. "I think we've been snubbed," he murmurs to his friend, and for some reason, it strikes him as very funny suddenly. In a louder voice, he says, "It's an exchange of favors, of course." And let their minds run with that where they will. His gaze turns to Nash. "And you, Mister Clovis - will /you/ join us?" An exhange of favors? Favors...favors...what can those two knights do for each other that is important enough to call forth a scroll? Not mentioning that the way Borus desribed the sheet of paper deemed it suspricous. The result? The two are up to something /again/ - and let me tell you, when they are up to something it is highly unlikely that this something is positive...or something Chris would approve of for that matter. "Let me see that" Chris says as she abruntly slides off her stool towards the two. It might be rude to just seize someone elses belongings but being alone in the tavern, with alcohol and cheery faces equals something to worry about. Chris grabs the scroll, unravels it and holds the sheet in front of Borus's face. "Read." Nash, for having been, yes, snubbed, remains quiet, though ever-watchful through half-lidded eyes. "Hnn..." He expected nothing less, of course, from any of the Zexens, but one must admit, they're -so- much fun to tease. And, truth be told, he's as curious as ever. What -are- they so worked up about? It seems that there will be a public reading! Or.. semi-public. But Percival's invitation is as good as any, and so, taking a moment to consider, the blonde sighs, getting to his feet and stretching a little. "I'll accept your most gracious invitation, Sir Percival," he says, clasping his hands behind his head and wandering over to the three. He doesn't sit, though, simply leaning against the table opposite their seats and watching with interest. Information is information, no matter the value. Red might be Borus's signature color, but it doesn't look so good on his cheeks. Nash was standing there now, and so was Chris, demanding that he read that blasted scroll, and so he shall...finding his voice he reads aloud off the paper. It is written in a fancy, left-drawn hand on thick parchment, the kind used for the most formal of documents. "Let it be known within the Zexen Federation and beyond that on this date, all undersigned parties have entered into a contract. We, the members of the Glazier's Guild of Zexen, having owed a great monetary debt to Lord Robert Redrum have decided to fulfill the obligation owed by rendering any and all necessary services within our trade to the villagers of Iksay. For the record of state, this union was devised by Stephen Sankerton, Guildmaster of the Glaziers Guild and Lord Borus Redrum, second son of Lord Robert Redrum, with all other necessary parties in agreement with the terms. Signed and sealed on this date, so shall it be until the end of time. " (Borus's seal is stamped in a blot of red wax at the bottom, next to his scratchy signature.) And the Swordsman of Rage now just wants to crawl under the table in embarrassment... "Nothing amiss, as you can see." Percival smiles innocently at Chris. Cecile had fallen for that smile earlier, but it's likely to earn him only a dirty look from his captain. Ah well - that's to be expected. "Borus's kindness will save my home quite a bit of money... with any luck, it will be enough to feed them come winter." Perhaps no one else noticed or cared, but Iksay's fate is quite absorbing for Percy, and even now, his gratitude to his friend is clear in his tone, even if his expression is still masked. Chris stares blankly at Borus for a breathing moment before reality came back down to her. Percival's words didn't match his face. (Not that it ever does). Chris absent mindly pats Borus's shoulder and with a more refreshed tone of voice says "That's brilliant Borus. How kind of you to help Percival!" Borus himself seemed embarassed to read the scroll outloud but Chris couldn't see any reason why. It wasn't as though Borus was proposing to someone. "I'm glad to hear you all are helping eachother out. Please do tell me if I can help you in anyway possible as well, Percival" Chris gives the three a small smile and walks out of the dark place. Let the men do what they want. Chris was getting too kind these days. "Sir Borus, the ever-charitable!" Nash says with feeling, placing a hand over his heart and looking up to the ceiling again. "Maybe they'll make your windmill with fancy windows!" Really, he's not teasing because he's ill-spirited. Actually, he's quite well-spirited, if the redness of his cheeks or the slight wobble to his posture have anything to say for it. Making sure to take a step or two -out- of possible swinging range, the informant watches Chris depart, scratching his head a little. "Hmm.. She's either getting more tolerant or more distracted," he remarks offhandedly, straightening a little.. before he slumps into a chair, turning to look at the knights again. Mm hmm. Chris...touched...him!!! Oh, Borus is pleased even if his pathetic blush hasn't faded from his fair complexion! Helping Percival has already returned it's reward. Perhaps Chris will remember this instead of some of his failures! Borus has found such a good humor that even the idiot Harmonian is welcome at his table at this moment. There would be plenty of opportunies to deal with him, and it wouldn't be as fun if the other man was a few drinks ahead of him, not to mention unsporting. He raises his glass again (amazingly still his first) and offers another toast, "To our Captain." What else is there to drink to at this moment? Oh, nothing at all. "To our Captain," Percival repeats, raising his glass and trying his very best not to snicker. He must be a terrible friend, always mocking, tricking, or stringing Borus along. Yet he can't make himself feel guilty in the slightest. "Are you feeling better now?" he asks, sipping - in Chris's honor, yes. She would just /love/ this. What does she have against good wine, anyway? "And again..." He reaches over to retrieve the scroll, rolling it and tucking it back into his belt. "Thank you." "To your captain!" Nash joins in, raising his (empty) glass and... putting it back down again, a baleful glare given to the lack of alcohol. "And to my tab. Hmmph. Cheers, then!" Standing up again, the Harmonian brings his glass over to the bar, nodding to the barkeep and then, with a wink to the knights, making his way out the door... pausing, though, on his way out. "You can probably request they make your windmills side by side, by the way, if you want to preserve that image of brotherhood and friendship. I think it would be a lovely landmark." That said, Nash departs. Borus gives another nod of acknowledgement to his friend. It really wasn't that hard to secure the deal, and perhaps in doing so he'll find some solace in knowing that he did something to help the victims of this war. "No problem. I said I would help." He takes another long sip, finishes his glass and then gets up. "It's late, and I fear I've tied up Anne's table far too long. I'll see you tomorrow."