Essam ibn Mahir (armsmaster) wrote in untold_logs, @ 2008-05-19 15:27:00 |
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Current mood: | pissed off |
"THE DRESSUP PARTY IS OVER!"
Who: Imrahil, Erchirion, Amrothos, Essam, Nandir, Aráto, Sornorno, Arnatur, Arnatur’s Guards, Other Knights if I missed those
When: Pregame Amroth Tiem
Where: Arnatur’s house of horrors in Belfalas
What: A continuation of the other Amroth plot logs, the knights prepare for an arrest and storm the castle.
Imrahil's hand tensed on the hilt of his sword as he peered down the dark hall that lead to the room his bodyguard/spy/ninja Sornorno had promised housed Arnatur, the provincial lord who was, as far as Imrahil was concerned, in for one hell of a time -- stripped of his title and taken all the way to Minas Tirith, to present this before the new king, who, Imrahil fervently hoped, would give Imrahil complete and total control in deciding the bastard's fate. It hadn't taken him long to reach this point. One look at the frail girl in the knight's common quarters had been enough, but her story of forcing the town into labour and stealing the crops out of the countryside through strongmen, illegal hangings and brandings in the name of 'justice', and other unspeakable things, had convinced Imrahil this problem couldn't wait till morning. "Remember," Imrahil told the knights he had hand-selected to accompany him on this all-important task, even as he had sent the larger body of knights to demand the guards in the town lay down arms and find the missing prisoners, "as angry as I know you all are, we want to take him alive. The fun begins in Minas Tirith."
"Awww...." Erchirion complained at his father's side, "Here I wanted to put mud in his hair and call him names for a bit first before we let Aráto play with him."
"I think we can arrange for play that is not deadly." Essam said with a little grin. He knew a lot that could be done to a man after all that only mildly inconvenienced him physically, while embarrassing him to the utmost.
"Eru knows the king's going to go all soft." Erchirion agreed with a firm eyeroll.
"We don't know that... do we?" Nandir returned. "Because if he is can I have a finger? Just one. To remember us by."
"It's not called going soft," Amrothos protested. "The king has an image to maintain too. If we make this vocal enough there's no way he'll be forced to keep this bastard alive by people saying death is too harsh. So it's up to us to bring him in and spread the word about what's happened here."
"I even know how to get your finger, Nandir." Aráto told his undercaptain. "And I think it only fair we start a little just in case...The people will want to know we did something." he added, and winked, "I know enough drugs to keep him still." The benefits of parents who were apothecaries. "Of course I don't know how we won't manage to kill him with them but...”
Essam rolled his eyes. "If certain of you do not shut up." he told Aráto, then glared at Erchiron, "Then he is going to hear us isn't he? And none of this will come to happen."
"We'll break the door down, dispatch whatever guards he has, and arrest him. Properly." Imrahil said, glancing around at his knights. His choices reassured him. Amrothos was not a knight but in the past weeks he had fit well into this little group of loudmouths and leaders and it reassured him that they all got along and kept each other in line. Usually. Unless they were egging each other on. But now he knew they would do their job, and do it well. "Don't get creative -- and no limbs. Not even small appendages."
"Awwww Faaatheer." Erchirion protested, drawing out the title he had not called Imrahil since he'd been knighted at all. "It's true you DO love Amrothos best." he said, jutting his lip out slightly, though he gave Imrahil an understanding nod a beat later.
Nandir suppressed the nervous urge to giggle. He had been through fire and hell and many battles in the war, but this was his first time that combat inside was not just a drill. So many things could go wrong, he thought, images flashing through his head. But he touched his hand to the lilac he had tucked in a pocket on the ride here and felt reassured. "Let's do this." He said, quiet, but with resolve like steel.
"Go through the door in groups of two," Imrahil told them, unsheathing his sword as quietly as possible. "And spread out across the room to make a circle, fence him in." He took his place at the front, though it was a dangerous move. Another coughing fit like the one in the stable and he'd have a knife or sword in the ribs or gut to contend with.
Silent at his left side, Norno moved into place beside Imrahil, sword at the ready. Behind him, Erchirion slipped into the line and motioned to Amrothos. Might as well do this together, he reasoned. "Come protect him with me, favored child." he said magnanimously.
Amrothos' grin was unpleasant as he drew his saber -- it looked so small compared to the knights and their swords, but Amrothos knew its deadly qualities well enough -- and came to stand beside his brother. "It is good to finally fight a battle with the family," he said in almost a whisper.
Nandir took his place between Essam and Aráto and Erchirion and Amrothos, taking one deep breath to steel himself. He remembered the advice he had been given during the siege of Dol Amroth -- how long ago that seemed, when the grinning knight archer had told him, remember, if today is your day to die, the best you can do is die well. The words comforted him -- living or dying, he would make things memorable, he swore to himself.
Imrahil nodded silently to Norno, and crossed the hall to the door. One solid kick by certain men younger and better trained at these things would do it in, and then they would be inside at once, the others close behind. From there... from there he could only guess.
Essam's hand was on the hilt of his blade, waiting, as the door burst open with a loud clang and the lord of the house sat bolt upright, a telpy otter dressed in green jerkin, pants and feathered cap went flying across the room.
"Oh Lady Lily!" one of the guards sitting in the room exclaimed as Arnatur's cuddly friend went flying. "Let me rescue you and then we'll put you into your night clo..." he stopped reaching for the otter the moment he glimpsed the slight edge of silver glowing in the candlelight. "THE DRESSUP PARTY IS OVER!" he exclaimed, rousing some other guards in the process of dressing various telpy animals.
"WHAT?" Arnatur burst out as he noticed the knights crowding in and leapt out of his bed, feet shooting into a pair of enormous and ugly rabbit fur slippers that matched the hat he insisted upon wearing to bed. "BRING ME MY SWORDS IF YOU INCOMPETANTS WANT TO WASTE TIME DRESSING THE ANIMALS"
"YOU BADE US TO MY LORD!" protested one of the guards, even as he went for his weapon.
"By decree of the Prince of Dol Amroth, you are all under arrest for crimes against the people of this province." Imrahil's voice thundered like a storm as he swept into the room, sword upraised. "Lay down your arms and no harm will come to you but resist and we shall take action."
"On what grounds?" Arnatur demanded, adjusting his ugly loose pajamas. "You come in here all high and mighty, la-dee-dah-dee dah without so much as an explanation. Did you not like the pork perhaps?"
For a moment Imrahil was almost rendered speechless, even as he heard the knights filing in behind him. It took him a full two seconds to get his stride back. "For imprisoning citizens of Belfalas, conducting unlawful brandings and burnings, theft, and..." Before Imrahil could finish, he was interrupted.
"And crimes against fashion and good taste!" Nandir shouted, sounding for all the world like there were at least two of him, he was so loud.
Norno started at the volume. Only one person he knew...but no he wasn't going to be caught off guard now dammit, he decided, stepping forward to put Arnatur at sword point, only to find a swarm of the lord's own guards approaching them.
"Some people here enjoy my fashion taste." Arnatur said serenely, locating his sword at last. "Do men who emulate the swan have room to speak again? I'd glide myself serenely down the lake if I were you."
Nandir positively bristled. "At least we don't look like we're wearing a poor man's dinner we stole off his plate!"
Imrahil did his best to ignore the exchange, though the approaching guards was a very bad sign. "Come with us willingly and this ends here," He said firmly. "This is your last warning."
"Ooh it’s my LAST warning is it?" Arnatur asked, stepping into Imrahil's face and grinning. "And what will you do after that, bend me over that bed? Or perhaps one of your virile lovers wants to have THAT pleasure."
Imrahil brought his sword point to rest against Arnatur's silk-covered heart. He had no intention of stabbing the man, but it certainly made for good show. "While I'm sure you'd enjoy that very much my knights have been hoping to remove limbs. I believe a finger has been claimed. Call your guards off or I may just let them."
"Why wait?" Taken by the moment, maybe, or the fact he felt the need to be brave enough to outdo Erchirion, to prove himself in front of his undercaptain, or for any other reasons known only to his mind, Aráto surged forward with his sword to stab the guard nearest him neatly.
"You great...IDIOT." Essam bellowed, as a second later, he was fending off someone's blade himself. This was NOT how they'd intended things to go.
Amrothos thought that it was sheer pandemonium. The room was too small for a dozen people, but surely they were all packed in there like sardines. He parried a blow by a guard, then locked blades with another, trying to push the man back. This wasn't good.
"I thank you!" Arnatur crowed in Aráto’s direction, as he had taken advantage of the chaos to force his own way out, his otter and a telpy frog wearing a maroon tea dress clutched firmly in his arms. "Were it not for you I would not have been allowed to..." Throwing something from a pocket then, he seemed to disappear with some trick of smoke and light.
Smoke filled the room and Nandir found himself coughing and his eyes watering as he fought off two guards at once. He found himself in the middle of the guards without knowing how he had gotten there. Suddenly he bumped into someone in the blue livery of the prince, and pushed his back against the prince's own bodyguard to better defend his position. "There must be a secret door!" He shouted, though the smoke had not yet cleared.
"It was probably made with..." Aráto started to explain, but was cut off by someone's sword slapping against his. Damn, busy again, he thought.
"Someone should seek it out." Norno shouted to Nandir, keeping an eye to Imrahil as he fought on, not letting the boy distract him now. Such things could be deadly in these close quarters
"Well that was smart." Erchirion said sardonically to whoever was nearest him, referring to the way this had all started. "I'm thrilled Aráto knows what did it, that makes up for every..." he broke off in a loud curse as someone's sword sank into his thigh, enough to make him bleed but not enough to cut the muscle.
Amrothos disabled a guard between him and the far side of the room, glancing back and nearly getting his head cut off when Erchirion cried out. Using the heavy hilt of his saber like a club, he knocked the man into a piece of furniture. Through the smoke a darkness opened up before him. "I've found the secret passage!" He shouted. "I'm going in!"
"Amrothos, no!" Imrahil shouted over the fray. "Don't be stupid!" But he knew it was already too late.
"IF I BRING HIM BACK ALIVE AM I YOUR NEW FAVORITE?" Erchirion asked, forcing himself into the same spot Amrothos had been a few seconds ago, then vanishing himself.
"Damn it!" Imrahil shouted as he ran a man through and pulled his sword free. "Everyone into the passage! Their mother will come back from the grave to haunt me if they die being stupid together!"
"ALL OF YOU THEN." Essam took this as his opportunity to shoe the others forward for as long as he possibly could, gritting his teeth when someone's sword glanced across his face. He would kill Aráto, he vowed, the second he had the little bastard alone. In the meantime, he settled for waiting for him to pass into the chamber and smacking his backside with the sword he carried.
Nandir was one of the last people through the door in the wall. He fought like a lion, pushing his way through guards when killing them wasn't sensible, stomping on one unfortunate guard's hand as the injured man tried to crawl towards a sword. As he plunged into the darkness, he called out, "did anyone think to bring a torch!"