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Post by Erik on Dec 6, 2008 15:54:20 GMT -5
Tyberion hurries toward the fight.
"My king! This is terrible luck!" He tells Rodrick loudly, "What will the Gods think?"
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Post by Ollie on Dec 6, 2008 16:16:57 GMT -5
Desmond reels back after taking the hit on the chin, careening into the tray of a serving maiden and sending it crashing to the floor. By this time all conversation has ceased, and the attention of the room was focused on the altercation. Desmond rose himself into a sitting position, but did not deign to climb to his feet. "Very brave of you, Your Grace. I hope the rest of the evening is to your liking. I can tell you're inclined to let your more manly instincts show whilst wooing your mark, though I will tell you that warm wax and a silk whips are more my speed than beatings."
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Post by Ollie on Dec 6, 2008 18:29:00 GMT -5
Guests begin to edge away as the quarrel grows. Several go so far as to attempt to quietly depart, though they find that the grand entrance is inexplicably locked and barred, and not from the inside. Quiet murmurs ripple through the small crowd, but none dare raise their voice whilst the King deals with the dornishman.
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Post by Lord Gaspard Yronwood on Dec 6, 2008 18:37:36 GMT -5
Martyn wagers a hundred gold dragons on the king.
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Post by Ollie on Dec 6, 2008 18:47:43 GMT -5
No one is taking bets, and Lefford makes a huge ass out of himself to the increasingly unsettled crowd.
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Post by Lord Gaspard Yronwood on Dec 6, 2008 18:58:10 GMT -5
He gives a smirk as he puts his money pouch away. "Such a patriotic crowd..."
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Post by The Flint on Dec 6, 2008 20:54:23 GMT -5
The young lady Leanna approaches King Rodrick and kneels, looking up at him with big doe eyes.
"Your grace, please, show Master Uller mercy."
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Post by The Smith on Dec 7, 2008 1:07:21 GMT -5
The King's calm face, grew thundercloud dark at Uller's jibe. His fists clench and he frowns, as he moves forward he looks down at the girl. He frowns deeply, then looks back at Desmond, "We will settle this tomorrow with blades." He jabs a thick finger at the Dornishman, "And a stupid innuendo about cocks serving as blades will just push me over the edge."
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Post by Ollie on Dec 7, 2008 4:42:39 GMT -5
"As you wish. The first course of dinner is to be served at eight, and the entertainment will follow shortly after Your Grace," he informed the King politely, though loud enough for the party goers to understand that the festivities were not to be called off.
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Post by The Flint on Dec 7, 2008 15:21:03 GMT -5
"Thank you your grace," Lady Leanna says, bowing deeply to Rodrick and showing ample cleavage.
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Post by Ollie on Dec 7, 2008 21:36:40 GMT -5
The rest of the evening goes off without a hitch, though the general unease of the altercation is long to fade.
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Hope you all are well and happy.