RP:A New Duke

Jonn makes his way along the well-worn path leading northward from the mountain pass. He is a young man of middling height, but solidly built, with close-cropped red hair and blue eyes. He wears battlestained chainmail and leather armor, and strapped to his back is a long, thin parcel, wrapped in oilcloth. He trudges along, looking from side to side with the air of one returning home after being long away.

Hildegarde had been to this place once before, not long after she had taken up her Oath and began on the path to knighthood, which is where she met a most curious little vagrant. He seemed a nice enough man, though, even though he thought he could easily End the woman. She smiled at the thought, shaking her head as she walked along; butt of her halberd tapping on the earth with each footstep. The woman stood at six foot and three decided inches, a giant amongst most! Mithril armour glimmered in the light, catching whatever it could as it was known to do. The short-sword, Oathkeeper, hung at her hip: the golden lion-head pommel catching the light as she walked. The knight seemed to be just idly wandering along, not paying enough attention to whoever or whatever may be in her path as she glanced around to take in the sights. It was due to this idle wandering that she bumped into Jonn with an 'oof!'. "M'lord!" she exclaimed, cheeks flaring a soft red as she stepped back in some embarrassment, "My apologies, m'lord, my attention wandered off."

Jonn is sent reeling, his own attention having been drawn by the scenery, so that he is struck unawares and off-balance. While he is solid enough, the woman does have a few inches on him, and it is enough to send him into the low-hanging branches of a tree, the fall knocking the bundle from his back. He scrambles to his feet as best as he can in armor, and immediately begins searching for his burden among the tall grass, replying distractedly, "It is nothing, truly. I was not paying attention either."

Hildegarde offered a hand to the man in an effort to help him back to his feet, politeness and courtesy a crucial part of her Oath! Once he was up to his feet, she too started to search for what fell from his back. "You are not hurt, are you sir?" She would feel terrible if he had been hurt or anything due to her not paying attention! "What have you dropped, m'lord?"

Jonn's mouth compresses slightly as Hildegarde joins the search, and redoubles his efforts, breathing a sigh of relief as he sees the bundle, not far from the two searchers. The cloth has come unwrapped somewhat, revealing a wonderfully ornate sword hilt wrought in the shape of a gilded dragon, with its snarling mouth as the pommel, leading back to outstretched wings that form the cross guard, with the wyrm-patterned blade stretching out in lieu of a tail. Jonn swiftly tugs the cloth over it again, and straightens up. "Ah, no, I am not hurt. I've taken worse tumbles before, at the very least." He tucks the wrapped weapon under his left arm, stretching out his right to Hildegarde. "My name is...Jonn," he says, the hesitation only slight.

Hildegarde 's perceptive and stormy eyes caught the sight of the ornate hilt and pommel, intrigued by the sight of it; feeling the instant and innate curiosity of a silver dragon stir within her. "I am honoured to meet you, m'lord Jonn, and most glad to hear you are unharmed. I am Hildegarde the Silver," extending her hand to meet his in a strong shake. The woman was all smiles and pleasantries, seemingly quite harmless and only friendly.

Jonn at last takes the chance to look over his new acquaintance; the swift, assessing look of a man used to combat, and to the idea that anyone might potentially be a foe. His smile is open enough, however, and his handshake is firm. "The honor is mine, Hildegarde the Silver." He throws another glance at her armor, and grins. "You are dressed in a way that quite fits your name, I must say."

Hildegarde was a trusting girl, often too naïve and shielded from the world. She smiled though, happy to have made a new acquaintance, "You seem fit for battle, m'lord!" she said in response, before smiling some, "Indeed, my Queen often calls me Mithril for my armour." The armour she wore was finely gilded, the breastplate studded with lapis lazuli stones in the shape of Frostmaw's crest. It was armour worthy of a Queensguard.

Jonn's glance flicks over the crest, and he nods, almost to himself. "Oh, I have seen a scrap or two in my time, sure enough." The words are said lightly, but the blue eyes seem almost to cloud over. After a brief moment, the young man says, "So, you serve Frostmaw's queen." It is not a question, and the statement reveals that Jonn recognizes the crest. "I hear it's cold up there."

Hildegarde smiled at the mention of a few scraps, "Are you a knight or a warrior of some kind, m'lord?" she asked the question politely, trying hard not to appear too curious about the man. At the statement, she nodded, "I serve the realm as a whole, but I am a Knight of Frostmaw, yes. Frostmaw is cold," she said with a grin, "but it is a beautiful land. Besides, I enjoy the cold."

Jonn gives a half-smile. "I have been knighted, yes. My father knighted me, after he secured an order from the queen making my brothers and I legitimate. So I suppose that makes me a knight, and more, though I do not know yet what my lot might be when I reach my father's estate. My estate now." He shakes his head, and plucks absently at a loose ring on his mail. "The cold's not for me, I think. Of all the lands I've seen, I like Larket the most."

Hildegarde was pleased to meet another knight, smiling widely as he mentioned it, "Sir Jonn has a pleasant ring to it, sir!" she said absentmindedly. Her head titled to the side some, fingers flexing around the shaft of her halberd before relaxing once again, "I hope all goes well for you, m'lord." At the mention of preferring Larket, she shrugged her shoulder, "I cannot say I have ever been, actually. I have been to Kelay, Rynvale and such. But never really Larket."

Jonn's eyes flick over to the movement on the halberd's haft, but as Hildegarde relaxes, so does he. "It has been some time since I have seen it, but it is a beautiful land. Perhaps you would do me the honor of accompanying me to my estate? If it is still there, I am sure that I can offer you hospitality."

Hildegarde often grasped her halberd, just out of reflex or to ensure it was still there. "I would be honoured, m'lord," she replied with a smile and nod of her head.

Jonn leads the way through Larket, hurrying through the town itself and then west, crossing the Vibrance and turning north along its banks. The Red Tower is visible from quite a ways off, and it is toward that fortress that Jonn's steps lead, until they stand just a short distance from the man-made island. There the young knight stops, looking up at the tower with a strange mixture of joy and sadness written on his face. "There it is," he says at last. "My estate."

Hildegarde followed Jonn obediently, upping her pace when he did even though she tried to take in some of the sights and sounds of the town. The tower crept into her eyeline, a curious sight and one she wanted to ask about but was certain now was not necessarily the time. Yet, their footsteps led them directly to the tower! Stormy eyes widened at the sight of it and the man-made island, impressing the dragon to a degree. While she wished to ask about it, she saw the odd mixture of sadness and joyfulness on Jonn's face. The Silver hesitated for a moment before placing a hand on his shoulder, "M'lord? Are you quite well?"

Jonn watches as the drawbridge lowers, and an armed group begins its approach. "It has been a long road to get here," he says in reply. "It has been over two years since last I was here, and then it was my father's estate, and newly built." The guards draw near, and their leader gives out a shout of recognition, which is promptly answered by Jonn. The men embrace, the newcomer quite similar in appearance to Jonn himself, though somewhat shorter and stouter. "Ronnet, by the gods, it is good to see you again," the older man says. "Forgive me, though; I forget my manners." He turns to Hildegarde. "This is my brother Ronnet, who has kept up the running of my father's estate. Ronnet, this is Hildegarde the Silver, who I met just recently, and to whom I have offered hospitality."

Hildegarde listened to his explanation carefully, eyes returning to the tower as the drawbridge lowered. She did not necessarily believe she would come to harm here, but one could never be too careful these days: her armoured form tensing at the sight of the armed group, as her own fingers briefly flexed around the shaft of her halberd for quiet reassurance. But she watched the interactions between the pair, smiling and dipping her head respectfully to Ronnet, "It is an honour to meet you, m'lord," she offered politely as possible to the man.

Jonn at last unwraps the bundle, revealing the sheathed sword, Judgment, and a signet ring. Ronnet's face falls at the sight, and Jonn looks rather grim. "He gave these to me, at the last," he says. "And his will, although I know a copy of that was sent here." Ronnet nods, mutely, and Jonn continues. "And so I ask, brother, that you recognize me as our father's heir, and the new Lord of the Vibrance, and Duke of those lands entrusted to our father, Roldan." The younger man nods once more, and sinks to one knee, an action copied by the rest of the guards. "Rise," the Duke says, and turns to Hildegarde. "It seems as though all is well, after all. Please, do accept my offer of hospitality. There is food within, and guest rooms should you wish to stay the night."

Hildegarde fell silent as Jonn spoke and essentially quickly became a Duke! The knight had never seen such an occurrence before, so she had no idea what to do or how to react. As the others knelt, she felt compelled to do the same yet understood she was not of Larket and had no compulsion nor need to kneel. However, the woman would not be seen as rude or discourteous, so she offered a bow to the man in light of bending the knee. "If that is what your lordship would wish of me," she said with a genuine smile and almost cheeriness about her. Hilde had never interacted with a Duke before! The nobility of Frostmaw were all quite relaxed and informal, too, so she was never truly certain how to act around nobility.

Jonn leads Hildegarde into the enclosure, escorted by Ronnet and the guards. Once they cross over the drawbridge, it is raised behind them, and the small group enters out into a pristine courtyard, all built from the same, red-hued stone. There are few outbuildings; most of the space is set up for defense, should a seige occur. Jonn looks up to the top of the tower, where his father's flag still flies, showing its black dragon on a red field. He offers it a salute, arm raised, before entering the tower itself. Inside, the building seems as military as the yard outside, with guards posted regularly, and rooms closed off by heavy wooden doors. The young duke turns to his guest with a smile. "Welcome to my home, such as it is."

Hildegarde did not turn as the drawbridge raised up behind them, essentially sealing the only exit that she knew of. Indeed, she did not think the man had foul intentions or meant any harm towards her, but it would be ill-mannered and ill-prepared of her to think otherwise and let herself be far too trusting. But her eyes are quick to take in the sights: particularly that flag that flew up above, the dragon on the red field. She squinted some at the sight of it, before offering the duke a friendly smile, "A magnificent one, to be sure, m'lord," she followed it with a nod, "is there a story behind the standard that flies?" she wanted to know out of her own innate curiosity. The Silver was fiercely protective over her kin, yet she sought out knowledge about her similar kindred, revelling in the stories of knights contesting evil dragons.

Jonn smiles again as he makes for the winding staircase. "My father was a great slayer of dragons. He found them fascinating, and he would use parts of them in battle. His armor was made of scales from both red and black dragons, for their particular resitant qualities, and his sword can harness the power of a dragon's scale." Here, he displays the hilt of the sword he carries, Judgment. The pommel, shaped like a dragon's head, rests with jaws agape, showing where a single scale can be placed in the snarling mouth. "The duergar smith, Hepti, forged it for him. There is no blade like it."

Hildegarde 's smile tightened some, as her fingers curled tightly around the shaft of her halberd, appearing as though her grip was tightening as they approached the winding staircase. "Red dragons are more often than not just in their actions, m'lord, but some are known to break the trend. Black dragons, however…" she sighed and shook her head some. "And you, m'lord? Where do you stand on the slaying of dragons?" she asked him curiously.

Jonn's keen eyes do not seem to miss much, and he digests the information he has gained silently as they begin the ascent. "I will slay anything that threatens me or mine, be it a dragon, a human, or even a gnome. I was not with my father during the majority of his hunts, however, and I do not have the fascination with dragons that he had. I see the value in the armor he chose, of course, and I will bear this sword proudly, but I do not intend to seek out dragons as he did, beast or intelligent." He smiles then, almost ot himself. "And you? What is your take on dragons?"

Hildegarde nodded her head agreeably, finding that she was not bothered by such a statement. "You have a right to protect your lands and any smallfolk that you attend to," she said, offering him a little smile, "against any menacing force, be they man or otherwise." The woman particularly disliked to see the scales of her race used for armour, even though she could not deny the particular value it held. "I am a dragon, m'lord," she said, rather casually, "and I respect my kin as much as I respect all other races."

Jonn gives the woman another glance, but little shock shows on his face. Instead, he shows only curiosity as he leads them into a large chamber, set with benches and tables. Servants, forewarned of their coming by the guards, carry food and drink to one of the tables. "What kind of dragon, if you don't mind my asking? I know a little of the different breeds, though not nearly as much as my father did."

Hildegarde eyed the large chamber with a degree of wonder, having never really dined in a hall or anything akin to that! She typically dined at the tavern in Frostmaw or at a dismal cavern in the mountainous ranges of Xailous. "I am a silver, m'lord," she said with a smile, "and I imagine your father knew much of dragons if he was skilled enough to hunt them so." The woman eyed the food for a moment, whetting her lips with appetite, "We Silvers are a decent lot."

Jonn nods his head, frowning a moment in thought. "My father always said that silver scales are strong against weapons, and the one time I saw him place a silver scale in Judgment, the blade turned blue with frost, and froze those it wounded." He shakes his head, adding, "forgive my rudeness...you would not wish to hear that." He gestures at a seat to the right of the head of the table. "Please sit, and eat."

Hildegarde smiled a little bit, with a hint of some kind of pride. "Yes, m'lord, silver scales are known to be one of the most resilient. We can take a beating better than any other dragon can, we're quite tough," she said with a melancholic look. "There is no rudeness about it, m'lord, you have done no wrong and I am certain the hunt was justified. I doubt any would kill an innocent dragon for the sole purpose of reaping their scales," she said with a false hope and heavy heart. "Thank you, m'lord," she said almost jovially, sitting down and taking the offered seat. "Aye, us Silvers are known for our frost. It's what make Frostmaw such a good home."

Jonn claims his seat at the head of the table, while servants pour wine into beaten silver cups. "Oh, my father only hunted those beast dragons that were known to be violent. I know he killed one or two that were...not beasts. Do you have a word for...what you are? I just know that the dragons that lack reason are called beasts. In any event, the beasts are the kind he normally hunted." He takes a drink of wine. "But yes, I can see how Frostmaw would be fitting."

Hildegarde lifted her hand and pressed her fingertips to the rim of the wine cup, shaking her head and offering a courteous smile to the servant. "No, thank you," she said quietly, before levelling her gaze at Jonn with a small smile. The silver was nothing if not friendly and smiley. "Feral dragons, m'lord, are often the result of being raised by ferals or being so badly damaged that one loses their senses and sees no other recourse than mindless violence. They are unfortunate souls," she said gently. At his question, however, the knight smiled and looked down to her plate, "People," she offered with an unintentional pause, "we are often called people, m'lord." Perhaps that came across as rude or a bit much, so the woman quickly offered him a wide smile, "The food smells delicious, m'lord."

Jonn laughs, the sound rolling easily from him. "People. I shall remember that, and I truly meant no offense. I am sure you understand that I have not met many dragons, at least not for dinner conversation." He takes a bite, using the provided fork and knife like one well used to such luxuries. He glances at Hildegarde's cup, noting her refusal of the drink. "Wine is not to your liking? It is an excellent vintage, and one thing I truly missed while I was away. Shipping lanes were...difficult to maintain."

Hildegarde laughed gently, shaking her head some, "You must understand, m'lord, many people would objectify us on the basis of our race. Yet, you do not see me rampaging through a village, eating up citizens and destroying their homes. It pains me that people would judge a majority based on the actions of the extreme minority," she said, tinged with sadness and disappointment. Halberd positioned between her seat and the one next to her, she lifted her knife and fork to slice up her meal and take a bite, "Delicious, m'lord," she offered, after she had chewed and swallowed the piece. "Wine and mind-altering beverages are not to my liking, no. I, er, I try to keep away from it." The truth of the matter was simple: Hilde was not world-weary or experienced in it beyond battle. She lived in her bubble of naivety and that did not include alcohol.

Jonn nods his head. "I cannot truly understand, of course, but I can guess at the pain that must cause. Yet surely that is the way of the world, regardless of race. The many will always take the blame of the few, particularly when there is violence done. In Kregus..." He trails off, and shakes his head, evidently deeming that line of conversation utterly inappropriate. "I am glad you like the food. I will be sure to tell the cook." He takes another drink and adds, "I find that wine does wonders for taking the edge off after a long day. But, my taste is not yours, and neither is to blame! I can have water brought, if you would prefer, or perhaps a juice of some sort, if there is any to be had."

Hildegarde smiled, nodding in agreement, "Indeed, it is not something many can understand! I suppose each have their own interpretation and feeling about the matter." The mention of Kregus caught her attention, brows furrowing with interest yet she did not mention nor push the matter. "Water would be most kind of you, m'lord," she said with a pleased smile, before taking another bite of her food. "So, what are your plans now that you have returned home, m'lord?"

Jonn gestures, and a servant steps in to fill Hildegarde's glass with water. "Oh, I suppose I will first take these lands in hand. From what I understand, the King and Queen have been long away, and I should likely meet with the Steward, Kelovath. After that, I truly have no idea. For some time, returning home has been my main goal. It was not an easy road either, for that matter."

Hildegarde watched as the glass was filled with water, offering a quiet "thank you" to the servant, as she took another bite of her food. Dragons had quite a voracious appetite after all and little could come between them and their food, even the more civil ones. "I do not imagine it has been an easy road, m'lord. But at least you have a rough idea of what it is you would like to do, now that you are home and have your title. I am sure the Steward will appreciate having the help of a Duke."

Jonn gives a wry smile, finishing his wine. "Yes, I am sure he will. Now, if only there was a book on what it means to be a duke. I should dearly like to know." The smile widens to a grin, and he rises, taking his cup just as soon as the servant refills it. "But you must forgive me, Lady Hildegarde the Silver. I find that I am quite weary, and I have missed sleeping in a real bed almost as much as I have missed this wine. Perhaps you will breakfast with me in the morning? The servants will show you to your room, when you are ready for it."

Hildegarde rose from her seat as he did, as a mark of respect and courtesy. "As is reasonable, m'lord. I would be honoured to break my fast with you come the morning. I hope you rest well," she said, offering him a respectful dip of her head.

Jonn offers Hildegarde a bow. "And you as well, my lady. Until the morning." With a smile, he turns and leaves the room, pausing only to take a flagon of wine from the servants' table on his way out.

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