Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-24510587-20170621000455/@comment-10906938-20170623015938

1st of Morning Star, 4E 269

Uncertain glances flitted between the advisors.

"I'll have the plans drawn up." the steward said, warily.

"Thanks for letting me know! I'm glad you decided to cooperate!" Willen growled. Why shouldn't he build a massive statue of himself at the mouth of the port? Let all travellers be humbled by the sight of such an imposing figure!

"I grow tired of this. All of this! What's the point in being a king if you weak-chinned cravens treat me like a mad beggar off the street! HUH?" When they recoiled yet provided no response, the once-mighty warrior added, "Bring my son. Now."

The forges hummed with activity. Carts were lining up in the yard between the storehouses and the forge buildings, some carrying wood for shields, some with poles for spears, many with leather for armor, and many after that with cold steel. While requisition orders had not yet been put in from the Castle, the smiths knew they were coming. King Willen was content to sit in his keep, while Henri toured the baracks and inspected the arsenals. This was a man with ambition. And that, more than wood, leather, or steel, was what these people wanted. Just then a page rode past the Prince, gave him a short message, and then accompanied him back to the Castle.

"I grow weary of this useless world." The king muttered, laying on his bed as his heir approached.

Henri nodded, and answered, "The men of today do not remember the service you did for them, and the city. They were only toddlers clutching their mother's dresses when you lead their fathers to glory."

"What does that matter anymore?" The elder snapped. "Look at me! I couldn't even mount a horse! In my prime I could outrun the sun itself. Now I can barely walk down stairs. There's nothing left for me here." He trailed off, eyes parsing the multicolored cloths observed by his son earlier.

"The docks are bustling, lord. This year will be the most prosperous ever, at this rate."

"I'm sure you'll enjoy the extra gold."

That left Henri thinking. He wasn't used to not knowing what to say.

"It's time for me to die."

And there it was. Henri had imagined his father might make a request of him soon.

"A king needs to die in combat, yet nobody in this damn village is good enouh to spill my blood. The killing of kings is reserved for only the noblest. That's you."