Realm of Kirdain

[Lord Thor]

Three men come riding up the path to the Duke's manor on large horses. One of the men is wearing a golden helm with what appears to be a crown inbedded on it. He rides upon a white horse while the other two men gallop on black horses. The crowned man approaches the gates and asked the guards if the Duke is present.

"Hail Guard of Wessex! What beautiful weather we have today don't you think? I have come from the Realm of Kirdain, my kingdom, and was invited into the Duke's realm by Protonix."

[Oakk Haddock]

Avarice gazes from his perch upon the outer wall. "The man on the white horse looked pretty important," he uttered to himself. The dignitaries had stopped at the front gate only a moment before the guard let them through. Avarice watched their purposeful stride in the direction of the Manor. Curious as to what was going to be said, he climbed down to the streets and followed the man on the white horse.

[SaintedOne]

Striding along idly from behind his Lord's left side, Steward Thule of Kirdain let those gentle green hues dance carefully across the threshold they found before them. The tall human male sat upright well upon the saddle of his stallion, donned in a suit of shimmering gold armor. Emblazed upon his breastplate was the court's Eagle, light from the failing sun dancing playfully in and out of the symbol's ridges. Hands sheathed within silken white gloves, gripping the reigns lightly as his horse strode steadily along the path, he moved his left set of digits to pet the animal softly as he rode. Noticable to the man's left side was a jewel encrested sword, its magnificant hilt protruding from a white leather sheath. Movement of one's eyes further up this man's sturdy form would reveal a simple golden helmet, fashioned around the Steward's broad features as a strip (resembling somewhat of a pointed detail) of the shining metal ran down between his eyes and over his nose. Kicking gently back in the footrests of his saddle, he moved to his Lord's side as they neared the entrance of the Manor.

[Nira Nathair]

As they approach the doors and come to a halt, a beardless dwarf in a slightly muddy heraldic tabbard comes bustling up to greet them, in that way which only dwarven women can bustle. Dressed much less resplendent than the riders before her, she gives a nervous little curtsey.

"Welcome, mi'lords, to Wessex. Your journey was pleasant? The weather has certainly been splendid for travel. You weren't waylayed at all, I hope! We've been having trouble with the orks lately." With nary a breath and no chance for them to reply, she continues. "I'm glad to hear it. I'm miss Nathair, herald to the Duke. Please forgive my appearance," she blushes and curtseys again, "I was tending the herbs when I heard you a-coming. Oh!, but where are my manners! The Duke will be wanting to see you straight away. Come in, come in!" She gestures for them to follow even as they are still dismounting. "Locklear, be a dear, kindly take their horses to stable. Come mi'lords, I'll show where you can freshen up while I let His Grace know you've arrived."

Finally she stops talking for just a few moments as she leads them inside. But the peace is short-lived and she's soon offering them refreshments and making curtseys anew.

[SaintedOne]

His attention turned to the approaching Dwarf, he brought his mount to a halt as he attentively listened to the woman's welcome. Bringing his right foot back and over the saddle of his horse, his feet found ground at last; they had been riding for nearly an entire day without rest and he was surely pleased to stand on solid ground once more. Raising those masculine digits to grip either side of his noteworthy helm, he brought it up above his head and then down to his side where it was held in his right hand. Those brozened features of nobility were now framed by his golden blonde hair (which was quickly tended to with his free left hand). Moving promptly into the chambers before them, lead by the dwarven woman here, he humbly accepted the nourishment of which she offered. No words would yet be spoken as he gave a thankful nod to this person. His eyes continued to dance about at the marvelous architecture in this city as he slowly brought a cup to his lips to drink; ever awaiting their meeting with the Duchy of Wessex.

[Nira Nathair]

Having given the visiting lords a few minutes to relax, the little dwarf reappears. Her tabbard is miraculously clean (obviously she keeps a spare or two), her hair neat, and thin gold bracelets jingle on her wrists.

"My Lords, if you're comfortable? The Duke will see you now. Please, this way." She leads them down a couple of corridors and through the tapestry gallery to the duke's office of state. The doors are open, and she leads them in with formal introduction:

"Your Grace, may I present Lord Thor of the Realm of Kirdain. M'lord, His Grace, the Duke of Wessex." She bows and steps back to the doorway.

[Manus Dei]

The duke pressed his fingertips together and cocked a sideways glance with a devilish smirk as the lord was brought into his chamber of state. Then suddenly rising from behind his mahogany table with a slap of his palms onto its glossy surface, he nodded his head firmly and smiled.

"Well how now, gentlemen? What brings our distinguished lords so far from that distant and storied realm of Kirdain? It's been so long since I've heard tell of Kirdain that I can't even be sure - do you owe any fealty to the King of Mercia?

"Well, we shall get to all of those matters soon soon. I tell you this : I have not had suitable companions for a foxhunt since Lord Aeneas was last celibate! So first things first and all the matters at hand, what what?

"Let's to the stables, lads, if you've no objections. I've got a fine colt that will put any pony you've managed to trot along with here to shame! Nira, where is Laflayus?"

The duke winked and carried on, slapping the backs of the other noblemen and snapping his fingers to assemble his entourage as the party set forth down the hallway toward the duke's personal stables...

[Nira Nathair]

"I'll fetch him straight away, Your Grace. Lock-LEAR! The horses!" The dwarf runs ahead of them in a panic.

[SaintedOne]

At sight of the returning dwarf, he returned the goblet offered to him back upon a nearby table. Though as long as their journey had been, he felt quite refreshed from the moment's peace and nourishment that this kingdom had offered. As he followed the woman from their place in the great hall, he listened almost peacefully as those metallic boots found a gentle ringing upon the floor. With each step he took, their presence was surely noted by any in the surrounding rooms. Finding himself now before the Duchy himself, Steward Thule offered a brisk salute to his chest, allowing it to fall as he listened attentively at the man's words. He was sure that his Lord Thor would have no objections to the man's desire to hunt, as no buisness was too pressing to enjoy the company of such men. Still caught without a moment to speak, he was left silent as he soon found himself following the Duchy and his Lord back out onto the estate in the direction of the stables.

[Laflayus Saladri]

An energetic elf approaches the stables.

Hail! Lord Thor, is it? My name is Laflayus Saladri. I am the local hunting guide.

Laflayus turns and bows to the duke.

Please excuse my manners. I hope my late arrival hasn't stirred up any commotion Your Grace. I was preoccupied with other things this morning.

Laflayus turns back to the visitors.

So now, how is the game in your lands? From the looks of your party I would assume that you have been involved in your fair share of hunts. I know a splendid area not far off to the the east that usually sports a good ammount of dear and rabbits this time of year. We have some fine cooks as well. Anything we catch can be prepared for the meal this evening, if you so desire.

So, shall we?

Laflayus mounts his horse promptly and awaits a sign to move out.