Bone2pick
Minority of One
<p>
Every eye in the room sized up Vicente. He exhaled with as much composure as he could muster and then tidied the Royal tabard over his chest. The crackle of the fireplace was the only accompaniment to his drumming heart. Eventually Vicente addressed the lone figure standing before him. "Capitano Seabra?" A smirk spread across the burnt lips of the devilish man near the fire. "Do come in, Majordomo." The invitation made the hair on the back of Vicente's neck stand on guard, but he forced himself a few steps further into the room. Past Seabra, away from the fire's light, lurked three more men—none of whom had stirred since he entered. They were spiders at the web's edge. Vicente sighed. "I requested a private meeting for tonight." The Majordomo murmured. Seabra spat into a copper spittoon on the hearth as he considered the complaint. Then he straightened the bandana above his brow before replying. "We all make compromises." His body language was clear: he wasn't going to budge on the issue. Vicente decided it best to move forward with the night's business. He clicked his heels together, squared his shoulders, and waved a gloved-hand towards the still open doorway. "It's my honor to introduce the Lord of Mármor, Marquez Deodato Belmonte." With seemingly none of Vicente's apprehension, the Marquez walked swiftly into the room until he stood a mere arm's length away from Seabra. The Capitano afforded a shallow bow for the young monarch and ended it by brushing away the bandana tails that had spilled over his shoulder. With much less formality Vicente gestured towards Seabra. "Marquez Deodato, Capitano Seabra of the Picaróns." The smirk was still in place. "Please call me Raúl, my Marquez." Deodato graciously agreed to do so while Raúl ushered his guests over to a small table and chair set. Vicente, for the second time, dared to peek at the three fellows perched silently in the background. Again he found their same chilling stares. "I'll be just outside should you need me, my lord." Deodato patted the shoulder of his Majordomo while Raúl continued to look over the new Lord of Mármor. Vicente, after a moment's hesitation, retreated through the doorway. "Thank you for taking this meeting on such short notice." Said the Marquez while the pair settled into their respective seats. "How could I refuse a member of the royal family?" The Capitano teased. Deodato never found the humor in the joke. "A title is nothing without accomplishments. Actions, and actions alone, make the man." Raúl was stroking his greying beard when he spied the golden signet ring honoring Deodato's finger. "A man can accomplish much with an entire nation behind him, no?" As if sensing the Capitano's gaze the Marquez balled his right hand into a fist. "He can also ruin much." Raúl's expression remained unconvinced but he nodded along all the same. Much of his earlier playful mannerisms were no longer being maintained. "What would you like from me?" Deodato appreciated the shift to direct communication. The Marquez wasted little time before putting everything on the table. "I need your guild to keep me alive long enough to salvage this country." The two men shared a minute of silence. Orange firelight danced across their profiles while they measured one another. A stool from the back of the room groaned against the tile floor but neither Raúl nor the Marquez shifted their focus off the other. Eventually the Capitano put together what he felt was a sensible question. "Forgive me, Marquez Deodato, but isn't that what your army is for?" Without breaking eye contact Deodato shook his head. "I don't have their loyalty. Any one of the moves I need to make will have them storming the palace in mutiny. I won't last a fortnight without your protection." The Capitano squinted and tongued his burnt lips. "You wish us to march against the entire Mármorn army?" Every word was accented in disbelief. Deodato slid onto the edge of his seat. "Not march Capitano. It's very possible we can pull this off without bloodshed. Your guild is feared Raúl, that's important; it might be all the deterrent we need." "The deterrent <em>you</em> need, my Marquez." Raúl corrected. Deodato stood up at this, and as he did so three men in the background rose with him. The white of their eyes glistened while their hands fingered their sword pommels. The Marquez ignored them and he spoke down at Raúl. "If I'm overthrown, who do you think will take my place? Varela? What manner of lord do you imagine he'll be? A conscious and righteous ruler, as I aim to be; or will new dungeons need to be dug in order to cage all the citizens who would so much as whisper against him?" The Marquez spotted a pair of weapon racks that flanked the fireplace and then noted the Picaróns still standing in the rear of the room. "Will Varela leave your mercenary contracts alone, or will he bleed them dry with taxes and regulation?" Raúl slowly uncoiled out of his chair. He decided to answer the numerous questions with one of his own, as he gestured to the cape over the shoulders of Deodato—which displayed the crest of Mármor. "Was it not Marquez Almir who promoted Varela to General?" The Marquez was forced to nod. The next sentence that left Deodato's lips was all too familiar. "I am not my father. I understand your reluctance to unite with Marquez Almir's son, but Raúl, hear me: as poor a ruler as my father was, Varela would be worse. Much worse...You know that." It was if the brief conversation had aged the roguish Capitano. Raúl looked through the chaotic flames while he digested the possible futures. He let a heavy hand fall on his rapier's pommel and then swept his eyes across his still sanding, silent, soldiers. "You won't survive a fortnight without us..." He muttered and then spat into the spittoon again. Eventually he turned back to his guest. "I would need guarantees....The only way this could work is if I had total authority over all things pertaining to your security." Deodato did his best to fight off the rush of relief that threatened to take hold of his face. Despite his adrenalin his reply was steady. "I can guarantee that." The Capitano found the silhouette of Vicente lurking just outside the doorway. He raised his tired voice loud enough for all interested parties to hear. "Very well, prepare the palace...The Picaróns are coming." Hope was finally able to shine through Deodato. He nearly glowed. He galloped over to his new ally and offered his hand. "Thank you for this Raúl, I'm in your debt." The Capitano didn't match the monarch's enthusiasm. Instead he pulled the young man close when he shook his hand and spoke the next words into Deodato's ear. "Pardon me my Marquez, but this isn't for you. I have friends and family in this country." Raúl looked past the Marquez, who then turned and followed the sight line of the Capitano. Again they laid eyes on the trinity of sentinels, still silent, still standing. "We all do." Marquez Deodato, with a more humble energy, offered a Royal bow to the ever vigilant Picaróns. And then he whispered. "Of course." </p>
<div class="ipsSpoiler" data-ipsspoiler="">
<div class="ipsSpoiler_header"><span></span></div>
<div class="ipsSpoiler_contents"><p> This is a writing sample for a fantasy roleplay I've applyed for. The conflict of the roleplay will mostly focus on political intrigue. Comments and criticisms welcome. </p></div>
</div>
<p>
</p>
Every eye in the room sized up Vicente. He exhaled with as much composure as he could muster and then tidied the Royal tabard over his chest. The crackle of the fireplace was the only accompaniment to his drumming heart. Eventually Vicente addressed the lone figure standing before him. "Capitano Seabra?" A smirk spread across the burnt lips of the devilish man near the fire. "Do come in, Majordomo." The invitation made the hair on the back of Vicente's neck stand on guard, but he forced himself a few steps further into the room. Past Seabra, away from the fire's light, lurked three more men—none of whom had stirred since he entered. They were spiders at the web's edge. Vicente sighed. "I requested a private meeting for tonight." The Majordomo murmured. Seabra spat into a copper spittoon on the hearth as he considered the complaint. Then he straightened the bandana above his brow before replying. "We all make compromises." His body language was clear: he wasn't going to budge on the issue. Vicente decided it best to move forward with the night's business. He clicked his heels together, squared his shoulders, and waved a gloved-hand towards the still open doorway. "It's my honor to introduce the Lord of Mármor, Marquez Deodato Belmonte." With seemingly none of Vicente's apprehension, the Marquez walked swiftly into the room until he stood a mere arm's length away from Seabra. The Capitano afforded a shallow bow for the young monarch and ended it by brushing away the bandana tails that had spilled over his shoulder. With much less formality Vicente gestured towards Seabra. "Marquez Deodato, Capitano Seabra of the Picaróns." The smirk was still in place. "Please call me Raúl, my Marquez." Deodato graciously agreed to do so while Raúl ushered his guests over to a small table and chair set. Vicente, for the second time, dared to peek at the three fellows perched silently in the background. Again he found their same chilling stares. "I'll be just outside should you need me, my lord." Deodato patted the shoulder of his Majordomo while Raúl continued to look over the new Lord of Mármor. Vicente, after a moment's hesitation, retreated through the doorway. "Thank you for taking this meeting on such short notice." Said the Marquez while the pair settled into their respective seats. "How could I refuse a member of the royal family?" The Capitano teased. Deodato never found the humor in the joke. "A title is nothing without accomplishments. Actions, and actions alone, make the man." Raúl was stroking his greying beard when he spied the golden signet ring honoring Deodato's finger. "A man can accomplish much with an entire nation behind him, no?" As if sensing the Capitano's gaze the Marquez balled his right hand into a fist. "He can also ruin much." Raúl's expression remained unconvinced but he nodded along all the same. Much of his earlier playful mannerisms were no longer being maintained. "What would you like from me?" Deodato appreciated the shift to direct communication. The Marquez wasted little time before putting everything on the table. "I need your guild to keep me alive long enough to salvage this country." The two men shared a minute of silence. Orange firelight danced across their profiles while they measured one another. A stool from the back of the room groaned against the tile floor but neither Raúl nor the Marquez shifted their focus off the other. Eventually the Capitano put together what he felt was a sensible question. "Forgive me, Marquez Deodato, but isn't that what your army is for?" Without breaking eye contact Deodato shook his head. "I don't have their loyalty. Any one of the moves I need to make will have them storming the palace in mutiny. I won't last a fortnight without your protection." The Capitano squinted and tongued his burnt lips. "You wish us to march against the entire Mármorn army?" Every word was accented in disbelief. Deodato slid onto the edge of his seat. "Not march Capitano. It's very possible we can pull this off without bloodshed. Your guild is feared Raúl, that's important; it might be all the deterrent we need." "The deterrent <em>you</em> need, my Marquez." Raúl corrected. Deodato stood up at this, and as he did so three men in the background rose with him. The white of their eyes glistened while their hands fingered their sword pommels. The Marquez ignored them and he spoke down at Raúl. "If I'm overthrown, who do you think will take my place? Varela? What manner of lord do you imagine he'll be? A conscious and righteous ruler, as I aim to be; or will new dungeons need to be dug in order to cage all the citizens who would so much as whisper against him?" The Marquez spotted a pair of weapon racks that flanked the fireplace and then noted the Picaróns still standing in the rear of the room. "Will Varela leave your mercenary contracts alone, or will he bleed them dry with taxes and regulation?" Raúl slowly uncoiled out of his chair. He decided to answer the numerous questions with one of his own, as he gestured to the cape over the shoulders of Deodato—which displayed the crest of Mármor. "Was it not Marquez Almir who promoted Varela to General?" The Marquez was forced to nod. The next sentence that left Deodato's lips was all too familiar. "I am not my father. I understand your reluctance to unite with Marquez Almir's son, but Raúl, hear me: as poor a ruler as my father was, Varela would be worse. Much worse...You know that." It was if the brief conversation had aged the roguish Capitano. Raúl looked through the chaotic flames while he digested the possible futures. He let a heavy hand fall on his rapier's pommel and then swept his eyes across his still sanding, silent, soldiers. "You won't survive a fortnight without us..." He muttered and then spat into the spittoon again. Eventually he turned back to his guest. "I would need guarantees....The only way this could work is if I had total authority over all things pertaining to your security." Deodato did his best to fight off the rush of relief that threatened to take hold of his face. Despite his adrenalin his reply was steady. "I can guarantee that." The Capitano found the silhouette of Vicente lurking just outside the doorway. He raised his tired voice loud enough for all interested parties to hear. "Very well, prepare the palace...The Picaróns are coming." Hope was finally able to shine through Deodato. He nearly glowed. He galloped over to his new ally and offered his hand. "Thank you for this Raúl, I'm in your debt." The Capitano didn't match the monarch's enthusiasm. Instead he pulled the young man close when he shook his hand and spoke the next words into Deodato's ear. "Pardon me my Marquez, but this isn't for you. I have friends and family in this country." Raúl looked past the Marquez, who then turned and followed the sight line of the Capitano. Again they laid eyes on the trinity of sentinels, still silent, still standing. "We all do." Marquez Deodato, with a more humble energy, offered a Royal bow to the ever vigilant Picaróns. And then he whispered. "Of course." </p>
<div class="ipsSpoiler" data-ipsspoiler="">
<div class="ipsSpoiler_header"><span></span></div>
<div class="ipsSpoiler_contents"><p> This is a writing sample for a fantasy roleplay I've applyed for. The conflict of the roleplay will mostly focus on political intrigue. Comments and criticisms welcome. </p></div>
</div>
<p>
</p>
Last edited by a moderator:
