Twin Cities
Established
Roleplay posts: 26
Registered: Mar 23, 2021 20:31:28 GMT -5
|
Post by Twin Cities on Jan 13, 2024 3:46:53 GMT -5
The smile did not depart from the Clerk's face. Briefly, he was frightened that Johann would hit him and it would be a toss of the coin if any sort of reprimand would come to the nobleman for it. However, the seeming anger that Johann was experiencing was certainly a pleasure to Karlitz. Already, he was imagining how this incident might deteriorate the health of the man's heart, and might yet lead him to a much earlier grave. Still, these fantasies for now would have to be put on the back burner as the interaction had only just started. "Ah, good Sir, that is a most curious and particular claim to make." Taking the offered shipping manifest, he gave it one glance so that he could say he read it (when in fact, he did not) and then smiled. "Oh, dear. This is certainly a very interesting document. Unfortunately, it is completely unverifiable as legitimate, in particular with archival vaults to cross-reference it being absent it. Unfortunately, we have nothing to go on to confirm its veracity. Now, please, allow me a moment to take record of your arrival." The man reached back for a ledger which he tilted just so it would be visible and simply wrote down "Mr. Johann Bayern", ignoring the connective von of the familial name. "If you would like, sir*, I can contact an official to make an appointment for a verification of nobility and bloodline. Until then, would you like to perform a test of citizenship of the Twin Cities? You seem to speak the language and possess oh... most of the sufficient qualities." A veiled insult that Johann was lacking in some requirement or another. * The lowercase s would be very audible"Tests... TESTS! I AM NOT AN ERRANT SCHOOL BOY RUNNING FROM MY TUTOR!" Fully roared the Boar as he pounded his fist down onto the counter, fully enraged now. It did not take a genius to know when he was getting screwed with, and this uppity clerk was grabbing him by the hips it felt like. Showing him the ledger, the very clear demotion of rank he was granted with by the Gods and Saints alone, and offering a lousy stinking test to prove what was already evident by his own noble bearing and breeding was just about enough to make him jump over the counter. Which he might have done if it wasn't for the plate armor, and the hand of the rather concerned monk on his elbow. Not that that would have done much to restrain him if he truly wanted to put this clerk's head on a pike. "S-Sir, it might be in b-bad taste," the poor monk stuttered an attempted reminder through clicking teeth, "to be kicked out of the only l-l-land we've seen in how long?" "BAD- Bad taste?" Johann, clearly struggling not to strike the much smaller monk for daring to lay a hand on him without invitation, growled out. But, there was a truth in it. Gods knew where the next port would be and if they would have supplies to take them to it. He was not deaf, he could hear the growlings of mutiny on the ship before they had found their way. Besides, it would do his luck any to strike a holy man. Turning to the Clerk he snarled, "Do your verifications. What is this damnable test?" "Well, sir, as your identity is not verified, I don't think you can say you are much of anyone, let alone a boy that can afford a tutor? Don't exactly fit the description of boyish either...." It was as much as he could say without there being a credible complaint possible to be lodged against him that he was insulting someone. For a moment, a bead of sweat began to materialize at the Clerk's hairline as it seemed Johann would not hold his temper and would indeed strike out. Quite ironically, even if unbeknownst to the nobleman, this would be a good first step in proving that indeed he was a person of high birth. "Ah, you wish to partake. I suppose that can be arranged for." Reaching down for a manual that he opened, Karlitz gave yet another false smile. "It would seem here an invigilator would need to be summoned. The exact details are with their profession, but it would appear that they would - depending on the station that you presume to claim - have you perform tasks suitable. Perhaps slay a very dangerous beast, and alone of course with no lackeys to prevent failure. Maybe something more difficult, like behaving adequately in polite company...." Not only were more barbs being thrown, he was also delaying the moment when at last Johann might get to what he wanted. If he failed, it would be drawn out, and if he succeeded, at least gratification would come much later.
|
|
Nina
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 291
Registered: Apr 4, 2021 10:46:08 GMT -5
|
Post by Nina on Jan 18, 2024 16:32:28 GMT -5
“I know my letters,” Nina spoke.
With a noise that felt too loud, she pulled a heavy, high-backed chair back and settled down to read.
The traveller might not have breathed in words faster than she could air, like her mentor did, but spending time with the wrong people had ensured that she would do better that tracing letter by letter, like any farmhand. The problem then, now, was that these were not her letters. She stared at the page in a daze. For a moment she heard only the wind beating against a window.
These letters were curly and strange and she could not understand half of them. Her breathing stuck in her throat. They were different from the Isran script, which was different in turn from the letters of her old world. She looked up, at the inkwell, feeling the pressure of being expected to just sign already. Nina had spent enough time with the wrong people to know that writing has power. So she closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and waited until the unpassable forest of loops and curlicues on the page resolved into something approximating sense.
Most letters she could grasp from the context. Between her fingers, she grasped her beads, tying the letters to them in her mind. She had used to think that reading worsened people's memory (of what need to remember an epic when one can just open a book?). She didn't know any-more. A few times, she asked: the shapes of letters; the meanings of words. Why would you need a word for 'jugulation'?!
“There.” Her name, shining in ink, on the contract; slightly smeared, as she attempted to roll the scroll before the guard tut-tutted and spread sand on it. He asked her whether she would employ one of The Twin Cities' less well-off citizens as a guide.
“I don't have much coin to spare myself,” Nina nervously admitted.
When the tattooed dockworkers approached, she was caught by surprise, and barely manage to pull a little purse from her backpack.
“Sweets?” She offered. “They're from Isra's Baking Baron. He doesn't do export.”
Listen. I don't have coin, but could I have a place for me and my boat for today? You can have the rest. And I can help with chores”
The dockworkers did not look pleased. One made a rather rude suggestion, and Nina's cheeks burned. Another man spoke up:
“Boss, she can stay with me and Maisie. You know how she is these days.”
The older man referred to as 'boss' nodded.
“How big is your boat?” He asked.
“See that desk?” Nina pointed. “'bout the same. I could carry meself it if it wasn't for the cargo.” The man harrumphed.
They struck a deal. By the time Nina and the dockworkers were leaving the office, the windows were rattling, and the first raindrops were pelting down on the ground.
They led her to a narrow side-street by the docks, with tilted houses of black, uneven trunks of wood, and left Wing in a storage building that may have once been the cabin on a ship. Inside the house proper, it was dark. It was dusty, with the faint acrid odour of sickness lingering in the air. A pale, ghostly figure with a halo of curly hair approached. Nina couldn't help but stare. Maisie, as Nina had suspected, was the dockworker's wife. She was also very, badly pregnant. The girl felt her gut twist. Maisie was a little woman, but she looked huge, with bulging eyes and thin limbs that were barely strong enough to carry her to the door, or embrace her husband. She spoke softly, and barely glanced at Nina. The dockworker, Agneli, held her with a gentleness beyond words.
“You can sleep up there.” He told Nina, pointing to a hammock that the girl suspected was normally used for storage. The couple would sleep head-to-head on a little bench covered with blankets off to the side. “I'll get some stones for the fire in case you need more warmth. Tomorrow, I leave at first light. Help Maisie with whatever she asks around the house in the morning. You can stay tonight and tomorrow; afterwards, we talk.”
That night, the wind clattered non-stop against the window shutters. Curled around her warm stone, Nina thought of things not spoken.
The next morning, and the one after that, and so on, Nina worked. She scrubbed floors and dishes, or did the laundry, beating clothes against stones on the shore until her arms hung limp in their sockets. She carried buckets of water, and more buckets of puke than she would have thought the human body could expel. It wasn't enough – not to keep the proper house that the girl could see Maisie crave. But it helped, a bit. Agneli would pop by during his lunchbreak, or even during deliveries, with food and kind words, but he came back proper only late in the evening. Nina always felt a bit worried leaving the woman.
But in the afternoon, it was her job to seek trade opportunities, and so she did. And through talking with a plasterer, who seemed to approve of her rocks, the traveller was soon directed to speak with precisely the person she had sworn to avoid...the fearsome Witch-Hunter Mr. Wewelsburg.
|
|
Johann IV of Bayern
Established
Roleplay posts: 12
Age: 34
_________________________________________________
Appearance: Tall, athletically built, strong facial features, a shock of dark black hair that fell to his shoulders... can no longer describe the youngest son of Albrecht II. He still stands at 6'4", but a life of rich foods and copious amounts of alcohol has taken their toll, and the athletic build has become a prodigious gut. His hairline has started to recede, and the long locks has been cut to be more manageable. A scar along his left cheek from a heathen's sword has marred what few good looks he had remaining.
_________________________________________________
Equipment: Before the flood, of noble house enabled Johann to have the richest, most fashionable, and flattering clothes. As such he was rarely under dressed for any event. In fact the opposite was often been said of him, with his personal tailors complained quite often for the seeming lack of decorum in the care of his clothing. Though since the Flood he is now limited to whatever fine furs could be stowed upon his ship before the tide washed away Ingerhold. His ship is a small carrack designed for lakes rather than oceans named after the patron Saint of Bayern, Nahum.
As befitting a man of high stature, he has a full suit of plate armor fitted to him. His main weapon is a war hammer, though he carries a sword mostly for ceremony.
__________________________________________________
Skills and Abilities: Despite being rotund, Johann is still rather well versed in the martial arts with melee weapons. He is a gifted rider, though he may need assistance with mounting a rather sturdy horse. He also been known to empty kegs of beer by himself, which is a gift I suppose.
___________________________________________________
Allegiances: Twin Cities
Registered: Dec 8, 2023 19:21:14 GMT -5
|
Post by Johann IV of Bayern on Jan 18, 2024 20:08:19 GMT -5
"Tests... TESTS! I AM NOT AN ERRANT SCHOOL BOY RUNNING FROM MY TUTOR!" Fully roared the Boar as he pounded his fist down onto the counter, fully enraged now. It did not take a genius to know when he was getting screwed with, and this uppity clerk was grabbing him by the hips it felt like. Showing him the ledger, the very clear demotion of rank he was granted with by the Gods and Saints alone, and offering a lousy stinking test to prove what was already evident by his own noble bearing and breeding was just about enough to make him jump over the counter. Which he might have done if it wasn't for the plate armor, and the hand of the rather concerned monk on his elbow. Not that that would have done much to restrain him if he truly wanted to put this clerk's head on a pike. "S-Sir, it might be in b-bad taste," the poor monk stuttered an attempted reminder through clicking teeth, "to be kicked out of the only l-l-land we've seen in how long?" "BAD- Bad taste?" Johann, clearly struggling not to strike the much smaller monk for daring to lay a hand on him without invitation, growled out. But, there was a truth in it. Gods knew where the next port would be and if they would have supplies to take them to it. He was not deaf, he could hear the growlings of mutiny on the ship before they had found their way. Besides, it would do his luck any to strike a holy man. Turning to the Clerk he snarled, "Do your verifications. What is this damnable test?" "Well, sir, as your identity is not verified, I don't think you can say you are much of anyone, let alone a boy that can afford a tutor? Don't exactly fit the description of boyish either...." It was as much as he could say without there being a credible complaint possible to be lodged against him that he was insulting someone. For a moment, a bead of sweat began to materialize at the Clerk's hairline as it seemed Johann would not hold his temper and would indeed strike out. Quite ironically, even if unbeknownst to the nobleman, this would be a good first step in proving that indeed he was a person of high birth. "Ah, you wish to partake. I suppose that can be arranged for." Reaching down for a manual that he opened, Karlitz gave yet another false smile. "It would seem here an invigilator would need to be summoned. The exact details are with their profession, but it would appear that they would - depending on the station that you presume to claim - have you perform tasks suitable. Perhaps slay a very dangerous beast, and alone of course with no lackeys to prevent failure. Maybe something more difficult, like behaving adequately in polite company...." Not only were more barbs being thrown, he was also delaying the moment when at last Johann might get to what he wanted. If he failed, it would be drawn out, and if he succeeded, at least gratification would come much later. There were a few heartbeats where the hand resting on the pommel of his sword twitched, attempting to right the wrong that the rest of the body struggled to not lash out against. It would be oh so sweetly gratifying to strike down this uppity peasant like an ant crossing his plate. In the Duchy they knew how to deal with peasants who forgot the proper respect to show their betters, from the stocks and pillories for the slightest and gallows to the worst. A bead of sweat, this from restraint, crested the thin and high hairline over the red as a beet face as further barbs were lashed out. The hand clenched suddenly, pulling the sword from its scabbard in a swift motion most would not have guessed from size of the Boar. Despite his rather rotundness he remained a vicious adversary on the battlefield, smashing in helmets and with a single blow from his war hammer. The hand with the blade threw it on the desk, the rounded tip pointed at the clerk with only a few inches from the hem. A challenge to the clerk as he growled out, "I'll do both, on one condition. I take this man with me," he nodded to the monk who had turned white as a sheet from the sudden flashing of steel. "B-but why Sire?" The monk questioned, knowing that he would be of no use in any fight, and he was much more suited to books than to dealing with people. He had become a monk for a reason after all. "Because you imbecile," he turned on his heel to the cowering monk, "I need someone to record my deeds. Call the invigilator."
|
|
Twin Cities
Established
Roleplay posts: 26
Registered: Mar 23, 2021 20:31:28 GMT -5
|
Post by Twin Cities on Jan 21, 2024 0:46:02 GMT -5
"Well, sir, as your identity is not verified, I don't think you can say you are much of anyone, let alone a boy that can afford a tutor? Don't exactly fit the description of boyish either...." It was as much as he could say without there being a credible complaint possible to be lodged against him that he was insulting someone. For a moment, a bead of sweat began to materialize at the Clerk's hairline as it seemed Johann would not hold his temper and would indeed strike out. Quite ironically, even if unbeknownst to the nobleman, this would be a good first step in proving that indeed he was a person of high birth. "Ah, you wish to partake. I suppose that can be arranged for." Reaching down for a manual that he opened, Karlitz gave yet another false smile. "It would seem here an invigilator would need to be summoned. The exact details are with their profession, but it would appear that they would - depending on the station that you presume to claim - have you perform tasks suitable. Perhaps slay a very dangerous beast, and alone of course with no lackeys to prevent failure. Maybe something more difficult, like behaving adequately in polite company...." Not only were more barbs being thrown, he was also delaying the moment when at last Johann might get to what he wanted. If he failed, it would be drawn out, and if he succeeded, at least gratification would come much later. There were a few heartbeats where the hand resting on the pommel of his sword twitched, attempting to right the wrong that the rest of the body struggled to not lash out against. It would be oh so sweetly gratifying to strike down this uppity peasant like an ant crossing his plate. In the Duchy they knew how to deal with peasants who forgot the proper respect to show their betters, from the stocks and pillories for the slightest and gallows to the worst. A bead of sweat, this from restraint, crested the thin and high hairline over the red as a beet face as further barbs were lashed out. The hand clenched suddenly, pulling the sword from its scabbard in a swift motion most would not have guessed from size of the Boar. Despite his rather rotundness he remained a vicious adversary on the battlefield, smashing in helmets and with a single blow from his war hammer. The hand with the blade threw it on the desk, the rounded tip pointed at the clerk with only a few inches from the hem. A challenge to the clerk as he growled out, "I'll do both, on one condition. I take this man with me," he nodded to the monk who had turned white as a sheet from the sudden flashing of steel. "B-but why Sire?" The monk questioned, knowing that he would be of no use in any fight, and he was much more suited to books than to dealing with people. He had become a monk for a reason after all. "Because you imbecile," he turned on his heel to the cowering monk, "I need someone to record my deeds. Call the invigilator." "Oh of course, spiritual counsel is permitted, especially if it is expected that the participant of the tests will not return." The Clerk said this as if it was an offhand remark, nothing meant by it. The truth of course, was wholly the inverse. As Johann had a dialogue with the monk however, Karst took an exaggerated sucking of air through his front teeth. "Ooooooh, rude to clergy? That will have to be recorded. Tsk tsk tsk. They do not look fondly to that sort of thing." Still, a job was a job, and as far as the man could see he had exhausted his immediate avenues of tormenting the nobleman. For now, he turned behind himself and wrote a quick note, before sticking it onto a little helmet sewn onto the head of a rat in a cage, which in turn was then given a tiny morsel of grain and then released into a tunnel behind him. As it scurried off to deliver its message and a summons for which already there was a template in the office of the census and customs, the Clerk drummed his fingers on his counters. "If you need supplies for your followers whilst you wait, you may purchase them. You might even get a bulk discount!" An insincere smile appeared on the man's face. Eventually, as the rat's message was read somebody was sent over. With the worsening weather, all bureacrats of senior position or with more connections had found important excuses and other work that they would do without having to walk the increasingly wet streets. A word from Karst helped present the following result: it was young Mr. Gunther that was sent over, his face still bearing a bit of acne on the forehead and his voice cracking on every other syllable. In long robes that were for once a Godsend given the precipitation, he trudged his way about the office. Consistently consulting a paper he held before himself, he trudged about the office and had brief dialogues with people, and on the third try did he get to the right booth to speak to Johann and present company. "Uhm. I'm Gunther. Uh, I'm here to administer an inspection of validity of heritage, uhhh...." He looked down on his paper. "A Mr. Pi-" Karst at this point reached out and snatched the paper from the boy's hands, which unfortunately seemed to have the literal parlance rather than a paraphrasing that was sent over. "Come here." Growled Karst, who then whispered to the obedient boy who then looked at Karst incredulously. More whispers, followed by a question which began to be articulated out loud until a hiss from Karst, at which point it was whispered to him. Finally, Gunther shrugged with an acceptance that some things in this world were beyond him and turned to Johann. Stuttering, he tried his best to remember what he was trained to say. "Mr. Bayern, my name is Gunther, I am to be your invigilator to determine the truth... uhh, veracity of your claims to noble heritage. You are to perform tasks that will demonstrate grace, wisdom, marital... wait, martial skill, and otherwise prove your claims to be true, or will make you perish or be exiled in the process. Now, one sec...." He licked a finger to make it easier to flip pages until he arrived at a desired one. "Okay, so, you have to promise- swear an oath that once accepted you will go through with these tasks or dying trial or be dishonourably exiled if failed. You will have a selection of them, but you will have to pick them. They will be graded such that their amalgam will sum to a value corresponding to whatever degree of nobility it is you claim. Do you accept?"
|
|
Twin Cities
Established
Roleplay posts: 26
Registered: Mar 23, 2021 20:31:28 GMT -5
|
Post by Twin Cities on Jan 21, 2024 1:01:14 GMT -5
“I know my letters,” Nina spoke. With a noise that felt too loud, she pulled a heavy, high-backed chair back and settled down to read. The traveller might not have breathed in words faster than she could air, like her mentor did, but spending time with the wrong people had ensured that she would do better that tracing letter by letter, like any farmhand. The problem then, now, was that these were not her letters. She stared at the page in a daze. For a moment she heard only the wind beating against a window. These letters were curly and strange and she could not understand half of them. Her breathing stuck in her throat. They were different from the Isran script, which was different in turn from the letters of her old world. She looked up, at the inkwell, feeling the pressure of being expected to just sign already. Nina had spent enough time with the wrong people to know that writing has power. So she closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and waited until the unpassable forest of loops and curlicues on the page resolved into something approximating sense. Most letters she could grasp from the context. Between her fingers, she grasped her beads, tying the letters to them in her mind. She had used to think that reading worsened people's memory (of what need to remember an epic when one can just open a book?). She didn't know any-more. A few times, she asked: the shapes of letters; the meanings of words. Why would you need a word for 'jugulation'?! “There.” Her name, shining in ink, on the contract; slightly smeared, as she attempted to roll the scroll before the guard tut-tutted and spread sand on it. He asked her whether she would employ one of The Twin Cities' less well-off citizens as a guide. “I don't have much coin to spare myself,” Nina nervously admitted. When the tattooed dockworkers approached, she was caught by surprise, and barely manage to pull a little purse from her backpack. “Sweets?” She offered. “They're from Isra's Baking Baron. He doesn't do export.” Listen. I don't have coin, but could I have a place for me and my boat for today? You can have the rest. And I can help with chores” The dockworkers did not look pleased. One made a rather rude suggestion, and Nina's cheeks burned. Another man spoke up: “Boss, she can stay with me and Maisie. You know how she is these days.” The older man referred to as 'boss' nodded. “How big is your boat?” He asked. “See that desk?” Nina pointed. “'bout the same. I could carry meself it if it wasn't for the cargo.” The man harrumphed. They struck a deal. By the time Nina and the dockworkers were leaving the office, the windows were rattling, and the first raindrops were pelting down on the ground. They led her to a narrow side-street by the docks, with tilted houses of black, uneven trunks of wood, and left Wing in a storage building that may have once been the cabin on a ship. Inside the house proper, it was dark. It was dusty, with the faint acrid odour of sickness lingering in the air. A pale, ghostly figure with a halo of curly hair approached. Nina couldn't help but stare. Maisie, as Nina had suspected, was the dockworker's wife. She was also very, badly pregnant. The girl felt her gut twist. Maisie was a little woman, but she looked huge, with bulging eyes and thin limbs that were barely strong enough to carry her to the door, or embrace her husband. She spoke softly, and barely glanced at Nina. The dockworker, Agneli, held her with a gentleness beyond words. “You can sleep up there.” He told Nina, pointing to a hammock that the girl suspected was normally used for storage. The couple would sleep head-to-head on a little bench covered with blankets off to the side. “I'll get some stones for the fire in case you need more warmth. Tomorrow, I leave at first light. Help Maisie with whatever she asks around the house in the morning. You can stay tonight and tomorrow; afterwards, we talk.” That night, the wind clattered non-stop against the window shutters. Curled around her warm stone, Nina thought of things not spoken. The next morning, and the one after that, and so on, Nina worked. She scrubbed floors and dishes, or did the laundry, beating clothes against stones on the shore until her arms hung limp in their sockets. She carried buckets of water, and more buckets of puke than she would have thought the human body could expel. It wasn't enough – not to keep the proper house that the girl could see Maisie crave. But it helped, a bit. Agneli would pop by during his lunchbreak, or even during deliveries, with food and kind words, but he came back proper only late in the evening. Nina always felt a bit worried leaving the woman. But in the afternoon, it was her job to seek trade opportunities, and so she did. And through talking with a plasterer, who seemed to approve of her rocks, the traveller was soon directed to speak with precisely the person she had sworn to avoid...the fearsome Witch-Hunter Mr. Wewelsburg. As Nina said she knew her letters, and then very clearly demonstrated that she did not in fact, know her letters, the guardsman leaned his chin on a gauntlet and sighed. "Need some help there sweetheart?" He tone was absolutely not mocking, nor even really unkind, but certainly one that seemed the guard was either tired of this or harboured other negative thoughts. Still, he absolutely did his duty, answering any questions and or concerns that might be raised with an occasional "Take your time dear." interspersed. Still, eventually she signed, and the guard stared at the handwriting. His eyes went back and forth between the letters and Nina some dozen times, and then he sighed. "Alright then, thank you and enjoy your stay within the Twin Cities. Don't get into trouble or we'll do what we wrote on the paper to you. Oh and err, if you do run into trouble that you didn't cause, look for the nearest person dressed like me and tell 'em what happened. If that's all, then goodbye. Next!" the man roared, waving some people over.
|
|
Johann IV of Bayern
Established
Roleplay posts: 12
Age: 34
_________________________________________________
Appearance: Tall, athletically built, strong facial features, a shock of dark black hair that fell to his shoulders... can no longer describe the youngest son of Albrecht II. He still stands at 6'4", but a life of rich foods and copious amounts of alcohol has taken their toll, and the athletic build has become a prodigious gut. His hairline has started to recede, and the long locks has been cut to be more manageable. A scar along his left cheek from a heathen's sword has marred what few good looks he had remaining.
_________________________________________________
Equipment: Before the flood, of noble house enabled Johann to have the richest, most fashionable, and flattering clothes. As such he was rarely under dressed for any event. In fact the opposite was often been said of him, with his personal tailors complained quite often for the seeming lack of decorum in the care of his clothing. Though since the Flood he is now limited to whatever fine furs could be stowed upon his ship before the tide washed away Ingerhold. His ship is a small carrack designed for lakes rather than oceans named after the patron Saint of Bayern, Nahum.
As befitting a man of high stature, he has a full suit of plate armor fitted to him. His main weapon is a war hammer, though he carries a sword mostly for ceremony.
__________________________________________________
Skills and Abilities: Despite being rotund, Johann is still rather well versed in the martial arts with melee weapons. He is a gifted rider, though he may need assistance with mounting a rather sturdy horse. He also been known to empty kegs of beer by himself, which is a gift I suppose.
___________________________________________________
Allegiances: Twin Cities
Registered: Dec 8, 2023 19:21:14 GMT -5
|
Post by Johann IV of Bayern on Jan 25, 2024 21:25:49 GMT -5
There were a few heartbeats where the hand resting on the pommel of his sword twitched, attempting to right the wrong that the rest of the body struggled to not lash out against. It would be oh so sweetly gratifying to strike down this uppity peasant like an ant crossing his plate. In the Duchy they knew how to deal with peasants who forgot the proper respect to show their betters, from the stocks and pillories for the slightest and gallows to the worst. A bead of sweat, this from restraint, crested the thin and high hairline over the red as a beet face as further barbs were lashed out. The hand clenched suddenly, pulling the sword from its scabbard in a swift motion most would not have guessed from size of the Boar. Despite his rather rotundness he remained a vicious adversary on the battlefield, smashing in helmets and with a single blow from his war hammer. The hand with the blade threw it on the desk, the rounded tip pointed at the clerk with only a few inches from the hem. A challenge to the clerk as he growled out, "I'll do both, on one condition. I take this man with me," he nodded to the monk who had turned white as a sheet from the sudden flashing of steel. "B-but why Sire?" The monk questioned, knowing that he would be of no use in any fight, and he was much more suited to books than to dealing with people. He had become a monk for a reason after all. "Because you imbecile," he turned on his heel to the cowering monk, "I need someone to record my deeds. Call the invigilator." "Oh of course, spiritual counsel is permitted, especially if it is expected that the participant of the tests will not return." The Clerk said this as if it was an offhand remark, nothing meant by it. The truth of course, was wholly the inverse. As Johann had a dialogue with the monk however, Karst took an exaggerated sucking of air through his front teeth. "Ooooooh, rude to clergy? That will have to be recorded. Tsk tsk tsk. They do not look fondly to that sort of thing." Still, a job was a job, and as far as the man could see he had exhausted his immediate avenues of tormenting the nobleman. For now, he turned behind himself and wrote a quick note, before sticking it onto a little helmet sewn onto the head of a rat in a cage, which in turn was then given a tiny morsel of grain and then released into a tunnel behind him. As it scurried off to deliver its message and a summons for which already there was a template in the office of the census and customs, the Clerk drummed his fingers on his counters. "If you need supplies for your followers whilst you wait, you may purchase them. You might even get a bulk discount!" An insincere smile appeared on the man's face. Eventually, as the rat's message was read somebody was sent over. With the worsening weather, all bureacrats of senior position or with more connections had found important excuses and other work that they would do without having to walk the increasingly wet streets. A word from Karst helped present the following result: it was young Mr. Gunther that was sent over, his face still bearing a bit of acne on the forehead and his voice cracking on every other syllable. In long robes that were for once a Godsend given the precipitation, he trudged his way about the office. Consistently consulting a paper he held before himself, he trudged about the office and had brief dialogues with people, and on the third try did he get to the right booth to speak to Johann and present company. "Uhm. I'm Gunther. Uh, I'm here to administer an inspection of validity of heritage, uhhh...." He looked down on his paper. "A Mr. Pi-" Karst at this point reached out and snatched the paper from the boy's hands, which unfortunately seemed to have the literal parlance rather than a paraphrasing that was sent over. "Come here." Growled Karst, who then whispered to the obedient boy who then looked at Karst incredulously. More whispers, followed by a question which began to be articulated out loud until a hiss from Karst, at which point it was whispered to him. Finally, Gunther shrugged with an acceptance that some things in this world were beyond him and turned to Johann. Stuttering, he tried his best to remember what he was trained to say. "Mr. Bayern, my name is Gunther, I am to be your invigilator to determine the truth... uhh, veracity of your claims to noble heritage. You are to perform tasks that will demonstrate grace, wisdom, marital... wait, martial skill, and otherwise prove your claims to be true, or will make you perish or be exiled in the process. Now, one sec...." He licked a finger to make it easier to flip pages until he arrived at a desired one. "Okay, so, you have to promise- swear an oath that once accepted you will go through with these tasks or dying trial or be dishonourably exiled if failed. You will have a selection of them, but you will have to pick them. They will be graded such that their amalgam will sum to a value corresponding to whatever degree of nobility it is you claim. Do you accept?" The drumming of steel fingers on the wooden desk greeted the arrival of the invigilator, as the Boar rested most his weight on the palm of the hand and one foot in a lean that would threaten to capsize most ships. A very impatient grimace would be putting the face of Johann mildly as the impudent secretary and the pimpled teenager conversed in hushed tones between themselves. The pimpled one almost reminded him of his younger nephew. It was a good thing the boy did not remind him more than that, or else his blood lust might have been awoken even more than it had been. Impatience oozed from the very essence of the large man as the teenager rattled through his preamble, though there was a rather piggish snort at the slip up. Those were two fields of battle he considered himself very astute in, even if others would disagree on one of those more than the others. Brusquely he waved off the warning about exile or dying, "Yes yes all very well and good. I accept the challenge for the title of Duke." If he could not be a Duke in the drowned world, by the Gods and all the saints he would be one here.
|
|
Twin Cities
Established
Roleplay posts: 26
Registered: Mar 23, 2021 20:31:28 GMT -5
|
Post by Twin Cities on Jan 29, 2024 17:33:52 GMT -5
As Johann claimed the title of Duke, Karst suddenly became red in the face and hissed something into the ears of Gunther. The boy looked among his papers, and then shrugged, whispering something back. Karst shook his head furiously, going back to sit in his desk. In this case, it seemed his plan had backfired.
"Ahem, very well then. To claim the title of Duke you must assemble a total of... 120 merits." he said, a smile appearing on his face. Then he realized this was the first Johann had heard of such, and he would have to elaborate.
"Uhh, look, each of these things has a corresponding value. Just match or exceed 120." With that, he handed over one of the papers he had for Johann to peruse.
|
|
Johann IV of Bayern
Established
Roleplay posts: 12
Age: 34
_________________________________________________
Appearance: Tall, athletically built, strong facial features, a shock of dark black hair that fell to his shoulders... can no longer describe the youngest son of Albrecht II. He still stands at 6'4", but a life of rich foods and copious amounts of alcohol has taken their toll, and the athletic build has become a prodigious gut. His hairline has started to recede, and the long locks has been cut to be more manageable. A scar along his left cheek from a heathen's sword has marred what few good looks he had remaining.
_________________________________________________
Equipment: Before the flood, of noble house enabled Johann to have the richest, most fashionable, and flattering clothes. As such he was rarely under dressed for any event. In fact the opposite was often been said of him, with his personal tailors complained quite often for the seeming lack of decorum in the care of his clothing. Though since the Flood he is now limited to whatever fine furs could be stowed upon his ship before the tide washed away Ingerhold. His ship is a small carrack designed for lakes rather than oceans named after the patron Saint of Bayern, Nahum.
As befitting a man of high stature, he has a full suit of plate armor fitted to him. His main weapon is a war hammer, though he carries a sword mostly for ceremony.
__________________________________________________
Skills and Abilities: Despite being rotund, Johann is still rather well versed in the martial arts with melee weapons. He is a gifted rider, though he may need assistance with mounting a rather sturdy horse. He also been known to empty kegs of beer by himself, which is a gift I suppose.
___________________________________________________
Allegiances: Twin Cities
Registered: Dec 8, 2023 19:21:14 GMT -5
|
Post by Johann IV of Bayern on Feb 1, 2024 19:17:57 GMT -5
A loud, arrogant guffaw greeted the back of the retreating clerk. Johann had broken enough enemies in front of him that he could tell when he had won a fight, and this one was ever so delicious. To beat his foe at their own game, and to humiliate this upstart peasant no less, was a joy that could scarce be compared. Except to the finest wines and ales and suckling pigs roasted on a spit while glazed in honey.
The Boar snatched the paper from the boy greedily, eyes heavy with the presumptive air of victory and the delicacies that he would garner for himself. "Yes... yes," he grumbled to himself in thought as he did mental arithmetic to try and add the most glamorous quests alongside the ones that seemed the easiest. Slitting his eyes in questioning he asked, "What do these bloody astericks mean?"
"In any case," he cleared his throat without letting the boy answer first, "The walrus' tusks would look fine above my hearth," again presuming he would have one to hang such tusks over, "And the Northern Mountains would make a good place for a castle to hang those from. And after I prove the value of my diplomacy I shall have admirers to peruse them."
|
|
Twin Cities
Established
Roleplay posts: 26
Registered: Mar 23, 2021 20:31:28 GMT -5
|
Post by Twin Cities on Feb 10, 2024 22:32:08 GMT -5
"The asterisks mean that you may have any who wishes to follow you assist you in this task, provided they sign a form of disclosure that their wellbeing is no longer the concern of the Twin Cities until the success or failure of your efforts. Moreover, in the case of the mountains you would be permitted to claim portions of it for a personal estate, wherein you must assume all the duties and privileges alike your title provides for, and likewise you will be able to lay claim to any confiscated properties of the gang should you select that task.
A reaction Johann might not have expected when he mentioned the walrus would spread. One man whistled as if he just heard something unbelievable, a young woman began to make the sign of the sun over Johann with her fingers, as if blessing a sick child about to die. A few, including Karst, begin to laugh sardonically. Unbeknownst to Johann, the walrus was in fact a moniker for a mammoth that happened to be larger than some small castles. "Now my Lor-"
"He's not that! Not proof!" a cry snapped from the peanut gallery.
"Ahem, Mr. Johann, which task would you wish to perform first?"
|
|
Johann IV of Bayern
Established
Roleplay posts: 12
Age: 34
_________________________________________________
Appearance: Tall, athletically built, strong facial features, a shock of dark black hair that fell to his shoulders... can no longer describe the youngest son of Albrecht II. He still stands at 6'4", but a life of rich foods and copious amounts of alcohol has taken their toll, and the athletic build has become a prodigious gut. His hairline has started to recede, and the long locks has been cut to be more manageable. A scar along his left cheek from a heathen's sword has marred what few good looks he had remaining.
_________________________________________________
Equipment: Before the flood, of noble house enabled Johann to have the richest, most fashionable, and flattering clothes. As such he was rarely under dressed for any event. In fact the opposite was often been said of him, with his personal tailors complained quite often for the seeming lack of decorum in the care of his clothing. Though since the Flood he is now limited to whatever fine furs could be stowed upon his ship before the tide washed away Ingerhold. His ship is a small carrack designed for lakes rather than oceans named after the patron Saint of Bayern, Nahum.
As befitting a man of high stature, he has a full suit of plate armor fitted to him. His main weapon is a war hammer, though he carries a sword mostly for ceremony.
__________________________________________________
Skills and Abilities: Despite being rotund, Johann is still rather well versed in the martial arts with melee weapons. He is a gifted rider, though he may need assistance with mounting a rather sturdy horse. He also been known to empty kegs of beer by himself, which is a gift I suppose.
___________________________________________________
Allegiances: Twin Cities
Registered: Dec 8, 2023 19:21:14 GMT -5
|
Post by Johann IV of Bayern on Feb 13, 2024 20:20:15 GMT -5
A sneer greeted the cry from the peanut gallery, as well as a gauntleted fist onto the counter to silence any dissension to his title almost being used. What had gotten into these upstart peasants he grumbled to himself. They must not have been properly cowed since they had arrived in this new world. If he had his will then they would have been promptly horse whipped. He would have to do that in a different way for now, and guessing on the gasps and jeers he growled to the lad, "This walrus will be naught but blubber within the fortnight. Where is this Siebert Island?"
|
|
Twin Cities
Established
Roleplay posts: 26
Registered: Mar 23, 2021 20:31:28 GMT -5
|
Post by Twin Cities on Feb 19, 2024 20:50:32 GMT -5
"Well, Sir." Gunther leafed through his papers, until retrieving what looked like a map. "That's it, right there." he said, pointing to a little splotch near the mainland. "Oh, wait, that's from the time there was a fly on the map, uhhh... I'm so sorry, I can't, uhm...."
"Here, take this one." Karst said, suddenly eager to assist in this task. "Oh, uh, thank you Mr. Karst." the teenager replied, seemingly in genuine gratitude to an ingenuine act of assistance. "Yes, right there. You can charter a boat, though most sailors would refuse to drop you off any nearer than shoulder depth of water. You see sir, the walrus isn't actually a walrus. Mr. Siebert is a little bit elderly, and his entire life he spent fishing at the little lake near his village. Aside from wolf and bear and cattle and pig he's seen little in the way of animals. And, well, with his eyesight and his broken spectacles he hadn't changed since he was much younger...."
"Its a mammoth." One of the guards interjected helpfully, chewing on a carrot. "Big, bigger than some castles of the little nobles like barons and what have you m'lord. I'm sure you'll find a way to triumph over it." he finished this with a wink, the sincerity of the "m'lord" under question though at least not seemingly outright malicious.
|
|
Johann IV of Bayern
Established
Roleplay posts: 12
Age: 34
_________________________________________________
Appearance: Tall, athletically built, strong facial features, a shock of dark black hair that fell to his shoulders... can no longer describe the youngest son of Albrecht II. He still stands at 6'4", but a life of rich foods and copious amounts of alcohol has taken their toll, and the athletic build has become a prodigious gut. His hairline has started to recede, and the long locks has been cut to be more manageable. A scar along his left cheek from a heathen's sword has marred what few good looks he had remaining.
_________________________________________________
Equipment: Before the flood, of noble house enabled Johann to have the richest, most fashionable, and flattering clothes. As such he was rarely under dressed for any event. In fact the opposite was often been said of him, with his personal tailors complained quite often for the seeming lack of decorum in the care of his clothing. Though since the Flood he is now limited to whatever fine furs could be stowed upon his ship before the tide washed away Ingerhold. His ship is a small carrack designed for lakes rather than oceans named after the patron Saint of Bayern, Nahum.
As befitting a man of high stature, he has a full suit of plate armor fitted to him. His main weapon is a war hammer, though he carries a sword mostly for ceremony.
__________________________________________________
Skills and Abilities: Despite being rotund, Johann is still rather well versed in the martial arts with melee weapons. He is a gifted rider, though he may need assistance with mounting a rather sturdy horse. He also been known to empty kegs of beer by himself, which is a gift I suppose.
___________________________________________________
Allegiances: Twin Cities
Registered: Dec 8, 2023 19:21:14 GMT -5
|
Post by Johann IV of Bayern on Feb 25, 2024 21:07:40 GMT -5
A... what? "What on earth is a 'Mammoth'?" The Boar grumbled, quite unsure of what such a creature was and why they would name it something else entirely. That was most unhelpful in picking out the tasks for accuracy though since he had picked in public it would do little good to try and backtrack on it. But at least someone offered him a "m'lord" which kept him from spilling out into a whole new outrage.
"I shall take my ship, restocked and fitted with a ballista or two," he commanded to the teenager, "And fetch me this Mr. Siebert, I wish for him to lead me to this island." He had little trust left in his own captain for finding his way out of a stein house, let alone to an island in what he could surmise from the maps placed in front of him was an entirely new world. One that he would conquer in one or another.
|
|
Twin Cities
Established
Roleplay posts: 26
Registered: Mar 23, 2021 20:31:28 GMT -5
|
Post by Twin Cities on Mar 6, 2024 16:02:25 GMT -5
"Like a hairy ele... elef... el-ey-fint." the guard finished helpfully, a smile of pride as he managed the word. At this point, elephants were exotic rarities to even know of in the Twin Cities, while the Varan demographic knew well of mammoths and thus the word had entered parlance of the Vessians.
"You're going to have to pay for it to be restocked." Gunther replied when told Johann would take his own ship. "I can't get Mr. Siebert." he continued.
"I can!" said the guard. "My shift ends right now."
"No it doesn-"
"Yea it does. Anyway, it'll just cost you a few gold pieces for services provided your Lordship, I happen to know where he lives and where he should be right about now. Distant cousin of mine, by marriage, the old bugger."
|
|
Johann IV of Bayern
Established
Roleplay posts: 12
Age: 34
_________________________________________________
Appearance: Tall, athletically built, strong facial features, a shock of dark black hair that fell to his shoulders... can no longer describe the youngest son of Albrecht II. He still stands at 6'4", but a life of rich foods and copious amounts of alcohol has taken their toll, and the athletic build has become a prodigious gut. His hairline has started to recede, and the long locks has been cut to be more manageable. A scar along his left cheek from a heathen's sword has marred what few good looks he had remaining.
_________________________________________________
Equipment: Before the flood, of noble house enabled Johann to have the richest, most fashionable, and flattering clothes. As such he was rarely under dressed for any event. In fact the opposite was often been said of him, with his personal tailors complained quite often for the seeming lack of decorum in the care of his clothing. Though since the Flood he is now limited to whatever fine furs could be stowed upon his ship before the tide washed away Ingerhold. His ship is a small carrack designed for lakes rather than oceans named after the patron Saint of Bayern, Nahum.
As befitting a man of high stature, he has a full suit of plate armor fitted to him. His main weapon is a war hammer, though he carries a sword mostly for ceremony.
__________________________________________________
Skills and Abilities: Despite being rotund, Johann is still rather well versed in the martial arts with melee weapons. He is a gifted rider, though he may need assistance with mounting a rather sturdy horse. He also been known to empty kegs of beer by himself, which is a gift I suppose.
___________________________________________________
Allegiances: Twin Cities
Registered: Dec 8, 2023 19:21:14 GMT -5
|
Post by Johann IV of Bayern on Mar 17, 2024 17:24:43 GMT -5
The Boar snorted at the idea of the paying to be restocked being some sort of hindrance, seeing as he had a full load of gold coins and ore in the hold of his ship. And as well the employment of Mr. Siebert. Taking back the manifest and with a very ungrateful and sarcastic nod of the head to Karst (may the Saints piss on his bones because he sure planned to) he said, "I'll pay him twice the going rate. Bring him to my ship within the hour so we can create a strategy for this... El-e-faint." The last word lingered on his tongue as he tried to puzzle out what exactly that was (some sort of basilisk? A manticore?) as he exited the clearing house with the monk hurrying behind.
|
|
Twin Cities
Established
Roleplay posts: 26
Registered: Mar 23, 2021 20:31:28 GMT -5
|
Post by Twin Cities on Mar 19, 2024 21:20:19 GMT -5
"Right-o your lordship!" The guard sauntered off, whistling a tune under his breath, while Karst shuffled through many papers to find where he could lodge a complaint against a guard that had left his shift early.
Eventually, the guard did return with Siebert. He was an old man, clearly very tall in his youth but now bent over to be hardly five feet tall. So wrinkly was he that his eyes could hardly be seen as wrinkles on his eyelids seemed to have their very own wrinkles on top. Still, walking with a cane he was relatively spry, managing to outpace the guard he was with (though, admittedly, the guard was neither running nor jogging). Arriving at the scene, Siebert got a whisper from the guard before going to a man and starting some rant a good distance away from Johann. Then the guard whispered to him once more, and the old man made his way to Johann. He looked at him through great big lenses that magnified his eyes, and then nodded. "Alright boy, I'll take you to the island. On we go!"
|
|