TheCzarsHussar

Another Doc post right after Ubbe? I'm in heaven!

@Centurion

I found Ubbe.

I have a folder full of images just waiting to be used.

Yep.

I guess it means I'm a milk drinker.

Fixed it.

SHIT! BT I forgot to remove the mention of stone walls around Northmoor, want me to edit it out?

How lewd.

Better font.

Thank you

We created a tyrant.

Thank you for pointing that out, I missed it. Well BT it seems we're plesbians.

Jesus you've made me laugh, not a little chuckle but a full blown laugh.

615

Wait I have a better one, I claim the tittle of Creepy Druid

I call that Roscrean shield painting of the Woodland Man!

Call members, Milk Droplets.

You need to have a talk with Brutus.

http://elderscrolls.wikia.com/wiki/Banish_Daedra_(Skyrim)

It's one of the more interesting things I've read and actually mentions Jhunal! >:O

Daggerfall, High Rock. Knights of the Dragon HQ, Castle Daggerfall. Three long months, three long months of city life. Whatever earned prestige the Dalomaxes had were scrunched back into mere knights, never once did the former Earl of Dresan have any questionable actions against his lord, as vassal he always paid his tariffs and delivered the levies. Why then had Duke Mon forsaken his vassal? Inwold Dalomax was once a good name, he held a good village and ruled a good fief. Now his assets were seized, his honor and character were no more having to borrow from his sister; the gods were merciful however and allowed a decent if not terribly mundane life. His sister's husband endorsed and sponsored Inwold into the Knights of the Dragon, the gold borrowed allowed a life above the peasantry, what honor it would be within this prestigious knightly order couldn't be attained on borrowed gold or a pity driven hospitality. Why then was Inwold summoned to the keep? Had his benefactor grown greedy, had his King decided an execution was in order, for past association with the now imprisoned Mon? Perhaps Sir Emeric Bridwell just wished to bestow a pity tittle for his minuscule months of service? He figured it was execution and was by no means relaxed when admitted into Bridwell's quarters. The head of the Knights of the Dragon was a near spitting image of the portrait that hung behind his desk. When Inwold entered, it looked as if the man from the painting had stepped down and into the room, save for one clear distinction. The painting was of a Redguard man with wavy, light brown hair just past his ears, with a thick mustache and a patch of hair on his chin. The man seated behind a desk in the room was a Breton, with the same hairstyle and facial hair as his ancestor, his skin color a touch lighter. Inwold recognized the portrait was of Lord Bridwell, hero of the War of Betony, while the seated man was Sir Emeric Bridwell, his descendant. Emeric Bridwell looked up from what he was reading and said with a smile, "Sir Dalomax, please, come in, take a seat. I've good news." Doing as he was ordered Inwold used the motion of sitting down to look about the room, even the lack of retainers wouldn't have saved him. Having never been admitted before Sir Emeric and a bearing of good news did raise his spirits, Emeric's daunting demeanor to Inwold at least was just as grand outside his armor as within it. "Good news lord, from my sister?" "What? Oh, no, it's from Sir Lafont. Baron Lafont now. I took the liberty of reading it already," Emeric said. Still smiling, he passed the letter across the desk to the Inwold. "Congratulations, Earl Dalomax." He was dumbstruck and for a moment just stared into that smile, grasping the letter so lightly as if anything harder would damn him Inwold mentally read it. Sir Emeric Bridwell, it is come to my attention that the Fief of Dresan's former holder is in your most prestigious company of Knights. His succesor, hand picked by the disgraced traitor who I refuse the ink to his name, has at the time of writing been deemed disloyal to our King and has been disposed. At the words of a one Inwold Dalomaxes' castellan still in service to Dresan spoke very highly of this man and his family's devotion, having the matter investigated further I have decided to restore his court, titles and fief in vassalage to my house. Minus a small taxation of his assets all shall be returned to said Inwold Dalomax, with haste please make it known to my vassal, I expect him at my court to swear oath and bonds. It was all Inwold could do not to express himself gidily. "My lord, when may I eh, retire from my duties here?" "Certainly," Emeric said. "I think you'll find Gabryel a fine liege lord. He served here for a time, then became a Marquis in Baron Copperfield's lands. He's familiar enough with the area, though I'm sure you can help better acquaint him." "Sir Emeric, I don't think it can, really be understood how..-" He struggled to find the right word, with it fully dawning on Inwold he felt euphoric. "-Favorable this is, Baron Lafont had not only granted my Fief back, but what wasn't written are my sons. I'll have them back now, heirs away from my foul wife, she divorced me you know; for a merchant no less the moment I was exiled. Gods it's been a decent life here my lord, but to be home again." "Well, I'm glad that things are turning in your favor. Safe travels and good luck," Emeric said. Inwold emerged from the seat and, with a bow took to his quarters. His belongings were few, the maille; closer to a Nordic brynja than proper Breton hauberk bought from borrowed gold, he folded it alongside an aketon and gambeson chausses, wouldn't be needing these pissant barely knightly kit any longer. He had shrewdly saved his earnings payed by the Knights of the Dragon, Inwold hadn't foreseen his reinstatement and was saving in case some other scheme cast him from this knightly order. Now he'd sell his arms and combined with the wealth he saved would be able to pay off the debt to his sister and her husband, he had well enough of merchants being haggled for minute after minute trying to sell his old kit, they scrapped for the bare minimum of gold to pay, no doubt selling it again for twice what they bought it for. Inwold's surprise visit to his sister had her estatic, husband too. However when he brought up the payment of his debt, his sister's husband lost a bit of his smile. Inwold wanted to make it brief, he politely turned down their offer for a celebratory feast and made a very true excuse to hurry along. Damn well pleased he didn't need to offer that merchant husband any favors in his reinstated position. Inwold hoped to all the Nine, that Mon hadn't melted or sold his old kit, that it was somewhere buried in his treasury no doubt held now by Inwold's new lord Lafont. Of which took the seal the letter bore to convince a carriage driver that Inwold wasn't some well clothed bum, as he no longer had gold on his person. There was no force under the sun that could get Inwold to walk for Baron Lafont's court. Inwold had been in and around Northmoor many times in his then nine years of Earl, there wasn't much to pay attention to. It was within the Ilessan Hills just like Dresan, only difference his Fief wasn't lowland. He thought about stopping by somewhere in Northmoor and tailor some fancier clothes, though re-reading the letter demanded his haste and tailoring, sewing and the haggling he'd have to do wouldn't please his lord for the delay. Northmoor itself was much larger then his own Fief of Dresan, Daggerfall had however influenced his expectations a bit and nothing seemed as grand anymore, not even Baron Lafont's castle standing much more impressively than his own keep, or what was soon to be his keep again. The carriage driver had him dropped off at the base of Lafont's castle and reminded him not to forget his payment, standing before the entrance the two well equipped guardsmen had the gate opened once Inwold spoke his name and his soon-to-be lord. The curtain wall around the keep was not tall or thick, and there were few guard towers outside the gatehouse. The keep itself was a tall, cross shaped stone building with four round towers where the arms of the cross met. Evidently whoever built the castle was more concerned with comfort than defensive function. The yard between the walls and the keep was bustling, servants busy unloading the numerous carriages laden with crates and barrels. There were also several knights walking about, and Inwold saw enough sigil banners to know that Baron Lafont's other vassals were here as well. Upon entering the keep Inwold was greeted with a high ceilinged great hall, a table in the center of the room and a raised dais with two thrones at the far end. Servants were busy putting tapestries on the walls and hanging yellow banners with a rearing brown horse in the center. Inwold guess that was the sigil of his new liege lord. Near the thrones was a pair of well dressed nobles. The man was well built and clean shaven with short golden hair, while the woman was short and thin with long brown hair. She wore a light yellow dress, he a yellow tunic with brown trim. They were talking with an older couple as Inwold approached, though the man in yellow halted the conversation as he caught sight of Inwold. He smiled broadly and said, "You must be Earl Dalomax, yes? You look just as your castellan described." Keeping his hands clasped at his front, Inwold made an obtuse bow; fully respectful to his lord but not awkward like a peasant would have given. "That I am my Lord, I ask you forgive the rugged man before you. I had made haste as ordered." "No need for apologies. Our situation demanded haste, and you responded as you should. Now, I wanted you here because I need you back in your home and back to training soldiers. War is fast approaching, and I need to know the forces at my disposal are well trained," Baron Lafont said. His wife had moved off, continuing to talk with the older couple. "And with your history under Mon and your service as a Knight of the Dragon, you are as well equipped as anyone to help me take stock of our forces." "I swear by Stendarr you haven't mistaken your trust, I'll have whatever levy numbers you wish drilled when you wish it. Whatever campaign you demand, we will serve my lord." "I'm glad to hear," Lafont said. "Why don't we get the oaths out of the way, then." Lafont turned to his wife and said something to her. She broke off from the older couple and with her husband when to sit on the thrones. Baron Lafont motioned over to a servant and whispered something in his ear, and as the servant scurried off the Baron motioned Inwold towards him. As Inwold stepped forward and kneeled, a steward said, "Earl Dalomax, do you swear to faithfully serve the Lafont family, Baron Gabryel, Baroness Dhalana, and their heirs Olyna and Corwyn?" "As I speak for the law of my kin, I and my heirs will honor you with oaths of loyalty, forever as our lord befits us worthy we will uphold our lords will, his laws and his name. Forever will I and my heirs honor our lady, upholding her will, her laws and her name. I and my heirs will uphold our lord's chosen succession and our lord's succession laws. By all the Gods do I swear this, let all be known the binding of we humble Dalomaxes to his lordship." Said Inwold, outstretching his right hand to place it upon the Lafont's sigil. "Rise, Earl Inwold Dalomax of Dresan, Knight of the Dragon and loyal vassal to the Lafonts," the steward said. Baron Lafot stood and greeted his new vassal with a hand to help him rise. "Welcome back home, Earl Dalomax. I look forward hearing all about our lands soon enough. Until then," he looked over Inwold's shoulder, and then back to Inwold with a smile. "Yes, here it comes. I think you'll be happy to see this." Four servants came walking up holding a large crate between them. They set it down with a thud and pried the lid off. Inside were first and foremost his seized kit sitting atop whatever else was held within, albeit he had a pretty good idea. Inwold sifted past his old kit and beheld within many valuables of his family, most of it was gold but there still yet remained heirlooms. Baron Lafont's steward said most of the non-gold valuables were already sold by Mon, that from the former Duke's seized treasury was gold subsidiaries replacing whatever heirlooms and valuables were missing. Finally the steward repeated what Lafont's letter mentioned about a small tithe being taxed from it. Inwold being quite satisfied, Lafont motioned the servants back another route. Giving his farewells to the Dalomaxes' new lord, Inwold was dismissed. The servants hauled the crate onto a wagon and guarded by two dozen of Lafont's men mounted on their own steeds, the caravan set off towards Dresan. ***** The only thing of great note on his journey to the Fief was how strongly he noticed his body odor, gods Inwold hoped it wasn't bad in his lord's court, what a horrible way to be the talk of nobles among his lord's court. Inwold honestly didn't know what to expect back at his own court, how many problems he'd be swarmed with due to his... successor predecessor? He didn't try to wrap his mind around what the man would have been. Soon enough the caravan was mounting uphill and trotting around the highlands, of all the rural farmhouses and herders Inwold recognized one of the latter with that damnable beard of his, couldn't recall the name though. He was looking out for the landmark that marked an older Fief prior to the Dalomaxes, it was a minor creek that once served as a natural boundary. Crossing it meant that Dresan was only a few miles away, Dresan itself wasn't a poverty stricken village but it certainly was backwater. In terms of defenses the Dalomaxes in their time as Earls funneled their acquired wealth into martial pursuits, in the roughly two centuries their family has ruled Dresan two wooden palisades were erected. One surrounded the village proper and was elevated slightly by dirt rampart. While the second served as the village Keep's bailey. Prior to the Dalomaxes all that stood of note among the three dozen households were a manor, lavish but indefeasible. Albeit now with the manor long since replaced by a keep, the place of great note was the only stone building, a temple to Mara and Stendarr. As the caravan went through the dirt streets on it's way to the keep, Inwold noticed disdainful eyes peering towards his carriage. The folk couldn't see who was within so he hoped it was directed at his former replacement, moving around the street towards the second palisade he eyeballed the village's only decently decorated household. The fucking merchant, he had quite the mind to behead the man alongside his ex-wife but couldn't think up a lawful reason. Couldn't accuse adultery, she divorced Inwold and quickly married again. Whatever the case he'd decide what to do soon enough. At last a great weight was relieved when passing through the second palisade and stood before the splendidly steep hill his keep stood atop of, there was something very relaxing knowing siege towers couldn't reach his keep. Stretching his legs outside the carriage, Inwold made sure the Northmoor servants unloaded his reclaimed wealth from the wagon as the first order of business. Wasn't long before two men were rushing down the long pathway downhill past the struggling servants trying to make it up, Inwold was beyond pleased to see the two. He didn't have a large staff here in the Keep, the two most important men besides himself were his castellan and bailiff. The old bailiff didn't need words and the glance they exchanged said all it needed to, he was like another right arm for Inwold. "Gods Inwold." Said his castellan. "It was the most frustrating thing for us to serve under Mon's lackey, Henry of Northmoor the bastard. The common folk don't give two golden shits about anything other than food, warmth and a workable tax, Henry however became unpopular with the latter." "Did he tax them by the odd week?" "Every week." The bailiff spoke up. "He was convinced it was a conspiracy against Duke Mon, that you and the peasants were withholding. Had me arrest half the village, man had enough sense to forgo torture, just wanted me to scare them." "What a damn fine mess, this wasn't a permanent replacement for me was it?" "I had the impression Mon sent his taxman, no sane man would rule over a village he so heavily taxed." Said his castellan. Raising his arms slightly Inwold told the two men. "Lay all the issues to me and all the grievances but I stink like a rotten Reachman whore, I'd much like to spend a few hours at my bath." "Mmmh, Henry wasn't used to living in a Keep. He used up all the soap, sorry my lord." "Son of a bitch...." Spat Inwold.