At Your Service

[Lucius Aurelius]

Pausing just outside the esteemed Reception Chambers of the Duchy of Wessex, Lucius Aurelius takes a deep breath and runs a hand across his clean shaven face, wiping away a bit of sweat that had collected on his brow. Then, chuckling away his hesitation and desire to look presentable, the middle-aged human strides confidently past the doors and into the Hall with a wry grin, light eyes dancing across the Hall until they fall upon the closest human.

"I do not suppose," says he, casually tapping a rolled scroll against his chin, "that you would be able to direct me to one Aethelric Brandt? I have heard much about this particular Duchy, and am hoping to offer my services..."

[Flaymer]

*smiles at you from across the room, without feeling the need to intervene, assured that anyone in the room would help you*

[Aiden Morild]

((Welcome to Wessex))

[Finnigan]

Finnigan McGowwan, looked around curiously before noticing he was being spoken to by the newcomer. Having just been on his way to deliver revenue reports to the Exchequer, the question caught him off guard.

"Ah, well met there." Finnigan begins, "Aethelric is it? Well, I haven't a clue where he might be at the moment. As busy a clerk as he may be, it is hard to find him in a single spot."

"Do not fret. Your best bet would be to await him here in the Reception Chambers. I will inform him of your entrance in the event that I stumble upon him."

Finnigan begins on his way again, clapping the man on the shoulder, reassuringly, before he passes.

[Aethelric Brandt]

Word of the visitor's entreaty for his presence progressing through the boroughs and halls of the Duchy swiftly enough to reach his ears, Aethelric Brandt strides purposefully towards the reception chambers, buoyed by the perceptible essence of his young age.

With an offhand extension of his arm and powerful flex, he swings the portal into the chamber ajar. His clothes are blotched with small spots of ink, marking him well enough as a humble bureaucrat, seeming utterly incompatible with the regal surroundings of the embassy.

He pauses for a moment, quickly examining the man who stands his elder by an easy decade, before speaking casually, "You wished to see me?"

[Lucius Aurelius]

Having returned the welcoming looks each with a broad smile and a slight salute, Aurelius had moved silently to the side of the chamber. With muscled arms crossed he had casually leaned against a wall and waited quietly, eying the great portal through which young Aethelric Brandt soon appeared. After another quick nod to the newcomer, a temporary look of confusion crossed his clean-shaven face as the man introduced himself—replaced almost immediately by a great smile as he lowered his head in greeting while keeping his gaze fixed.

“And well met, friend Aethelric Brandt! By the Lady, do forgive me, your writing style had me expecting someone many years your senior-- you are very well read indeed.” he states loudly, holding up the rolled parchment he has clutched in one gloved hand. “Already the Duchy impresses me-- ah, but my apologies, I've not yet introduced myself. Fantastic impression I shall make, bypassing etiquette and stealing you from the Duke's important works.”

“I am Lucius Aurelius. We've exchanged a few letters in regards to the Duchy-- more specifically, in my interest in traveling to the Duke's holdings.” Aurelius continues, not yet giving Aethelric a chance to speak, “Mercia, it has become a land of chaos and fools-- and I must say, the only hope of order and respectability I've seen in that darkness have all been representatives from the lands of but one territory-- that of Wessex. Your Duke should be proud, for his people represent him well-- and I do dare to assume his people are a fair representation of his Grace himself?”

“And so,” the tall human concludes, “I've come to to pledge my fine blade to His Grace and support Him in such a fine cause as this, if it is so true that the heart of Wessex is as fine a group as those abroad. Do forgive me for stealing you from your work, but you are the only one of Wessex I have personally had contact with.” Then, with one sweeping, outstretched hand he gestures about the Chamber and says in an even louder voice, clearly inviting any nearby to join in, “I was hoping you might introduce me to some of these ladies and gentlemen that I might learn more of each and the Duchy, and judge for myself."

"Not," he adds with a grin, "that I am anyone of particular note to pass such judgment."

[Aethelric Brandt]

Aethelric accepts the compliment with an admittedly smug smile and raises his brows as if preparing to speak. Before he can even draw breath, however, Aurelius silences any such notion with continued speech. While ink furthered smeared upon his woolen garb by his habitual straightening of the roughly-woven fabric, he listens with intent eyes upon the new arrival as he speaks. He moves as if to speak on a pair of other occasions, yet only finds no caesura into which to utter his say. He quite nearly erupts in mirth at the man's grandiose finale, belying his good-nature towards the man. His smile is notably wide as he himself has a chance to speak. "This embassy is a place of ritual and obligation. You will learn naught of Our Duchy's spirit if we remain in such a place." As if to accentuate his point, he gestures with wide arms towards the entirety of their surroundings. "Assuredly opulent, but nearly empty of the essence which marks the Duchy of Wessex as a nation most truly wondrous." Beckoning with an ink-covered hand as he turns towards the grand portals from whence he entered, "not in grand halls of diplomacy, but in the warmth of the Bivouac Tavern and the Boroughs may our true spirit be found."

[Flaymer]

*eavesdropping with long slender ears, well-designed for such a purpose, Flaymer fluidly unfastens a bota bag filled with elven wine and, with a wry look, tosses it to Lucius*

Maybe this will help you...gliiide into the spirits of the Tavern.

[Rivers Kelak]

I raise my pint in honor of your arrival, friend.

[Beric Veincrusher]

He impresses me, Beric thought. I eagerly await a meeting in less formal settings where we can retire the varnish of formality

[Dreign Swift]

Welcome to The Duchy of Wessex, Lucius Aurelius, and congratulations on your acceptance.

You sound like just the kind of individual Wessex seeks, and I'm sure we should be just as pleased to gain you as you were to find us. Look forward to getting to know you.

As a start, might we hear of your fighting style, or possibly a brief discourse on your heritage or history?

- Swift

[Lucius Aurelius]

Lucius Aurelius flips his forearm upwards and easily snatches the bota bag from the air before flashing a grin toward Flaymer. "I am thinking that I am going to like this place," he informs Aethelric Brandt as he begins to walk for the doors. The tall human pauses his stride at three intervals, noticing the glances of Rivers, Beric and Dreign Swift, and offers a hearty toast and booming "Well Met" to each man.

"Fresh from the field battle, to answer your latter question first," says he, smiling toward Swift. "My last years have been spent leading a small force against a gathering of Malaut cultists-- but I suspect such tales as these belong in a place where my listeners have the chance to become intoxicated. I shall not think to bore you here!" Then, as if reminded of the drink in his hand, Aurelius pauses to take another sip.

One corner of his mouth slowly twitches upwards into a further grin as he continues, "As to combat, that's a tricky business there. I fancy myself as skilled with a blade as I am with the bow-- and would as soon be leading the charge into battle than watching from afar. Provided I am given the chance to restore the crumbling Order of Mercia and slay a few hundred orks along the way... why, your fine Duchy may make use of me as it sees fit."

Then, with a slight bow and a sharp pivot, Aurelius prepares to follow Brandt for the doorway, nodding to each to each individual he passes along the way.