Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-25588187-20160302210812/@comment-25588187-20160326224145

 The party journeyed back to the Witches Head Inn. They rested there for the night, knowing they’d need strength for the following evening…

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 Fortunately, today was a special day for Jehanna.

 The King was holding a feast, open to the public.

 Seizing the opportunity, Rodyrick awaited dusk, before departing for the festivities.

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 Wine, songs, meat and laughter were what populated the hall. Carolingian was a Petty King, but poor was one word that could not describe him. The City Hall has three long tables, all filled to the brim with everyone from peasants to nobles (not intermixed, of course).

 At the end, on an elevated platform, sat the King, surrounded by his court members. He was a middle-aged man, with a stomach that rubbed against the table and an oak beard that reached his chest. It was not long into the celebrations before a bell rang and the hall fell silent. The King rose.

 “Ladies and gentlemen, beggars and nobles, elders and children, Bretons, Jehannans, I have but one question to ask. Are you enjoying this feast?” his voice exploded with pomp in his question, which was met with resounding cheers.

 He chuckled, before continuing “Well, you’ll all be excited to know we have won yet another victory against those filthy Farruns.” and once again, cheers erupted from the court.

 “But I know what you are all thinking, ‘But King Carolingian, we win against those swine every day, how is this different?’ Well, it wasn’t just us who defeated them this time, for someone has travelled a long distance just to aid us in this conflict. Someone I’m sure you’ll all be very excited to meet.”

 “Now when he first wrote to me expressing his love of our fair city since he stayed here as but a cub with his aunt, and his intention to grace our fair city with his presence, I must say I was blown away.” The King stumbled back a bit as a gesture.

 “But here he is, and now, in the first time in nearly four-hundred years, another man of royal blood now stands in this court room.”

 “People of Jehanna, I present to you, second son of Thulfheim, son of Wulfkar, son of Ulfric, please reveal yourself High Prince Argus Stormcloak of Skyrim!”

 A man in a brown cloak arose from the left table, before throwing down his hood revealing a Nord man, in his twenties, with a mess of brown-gold hair and a short beard to accompany it. He smiled and waved, as the crowd began to frenzy in admiration.