Tags to Ze!
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Wellspeer Manor- The Duchy of Hellvion. Three months prior
"Here, you will find in West Wing of the Parlor, my collection of arms I was explaining to you before," Davishire began with a gentile sweeping of his arm. "Behind each glass case are lacquered series of guns ranging from the early primitive models my Grandfather helped design, to the more modern sophistication of the Phoenix Gun you see on your right. This one," Davshire explained, as he lifted up a crude version of a rifle that was slung over a mahogany display hook. "Is a more recent addition to what the army has been working on. They call these rifles, and this model in particular is called the Wolf's Bite." Picking up the lengthy firearm, he held it forward and pretended to take aim before handing it over to his visitor to let Lord Khaeton inspect it for himself.
"I am aware of your time spent in the military," Davishire began, tastefully, though pointedly as he went on, assuring his guest he was not here to belittle him and his knowledge. "Did you get a chance to use such arms as these?" He inquired, his tone shrewd, though it always was. It was just the way he had been raised, and though Davishire was still being proper, it was evident in the subtle enthusiasm of his form that this room, of all the rooms within his estate, was evidently his most favored. It was neat and tidy (though the rest of his expansive house had been), but there was evidence in the worn leather chairs nearby that the room had gotten much use, an also, through it, care.
"If you look to our left, out on the veranda over there, there's an expanse of yard just outside the manner that we can use to do some target practicing and then, if you so desire, even further out is a series of lakes where the duck hunting is plentiful. Perhaps if we are good enough in our aim this eve, we can shoot down a few ducks for dinner." And he patted Lord Khaeton upon the shoulder, giving him a wolfish grin before he produced a set of keys within the top drawer of a nearby desk.
"So are there any fire arms you see to your liking? Most are the basic wheel-lock version, and they all tend to work the same. But the newer pistols and rifles you will see all pack a bit more bite than some of the older models, and are inherently less messy."
And he tossed a white cloth to the man. Black powdered guns could be quite the messy toy, though he judged Johsten Khaeton would have been used to it. Then the second thing he tossed was some rope and a bag for their game. And while he let his family's guest explore the multiple display cases full of guns, Davishire began collecting the necessary musket balls, though the black powder would, most naturally, be kept elsewhere. Once the supplies were gathered he strolled over towards the other man's side and grinned again- a feat most rare, though then again- Davishire Callister having anyone over to 'hunt' was rare indeed, and now that he had gotten the chance to exploit a friendship of a similar nature of his own, he was more than welcoming to the change and nodded forward.
He had never realized he and Lord Khaeton shared such similar interests. Studying the shorter blond man with his sharp clothing of military dress and mustache, he nodded and turned away. He was a rather quiet and reserved man, mostly ignored by his family during his youth, even if the other man were merely a year younger than he. But lately, as Davishire has more openly taken the reins of his family more seriously, he found himself under a convenient friendship, one that was still just developing as the pair had only truly begun a friendship a few months back.
Davishire had been left wounded, not fatally nor even physically, when the entire family and woman he had loved had up and moved away.
She only wrote to him once- and he'd been darker for it.
Ironically, Lord Khaeton faired a similar fate; and the pair bonded under the scurge of lost love. Both, it seemed, had women who needed to flee- and had done so without their supposed love.
It hurt, far more than Davishire wanted to admit, and although it had been nearly a year now; his heart still ached for her. Had she really seen him as such a useless coward to flee the country without his help? Or perhaps he had been a fool to let himself fall in love. His sister insisted , as always, he were the fool.
"So where is Lady Davina? I'm surprised she hasn't paid the pair of us a visit," Johnsten went on, eyes peering up at the taller man, than down towards the display case.
"She's away, as is the rest of the estate," he replied, then grinned at where Khaeton's eyes were looking. "I see you've got an eye on the Blue Pearl. She's a good gun. Has a nice snap to her when fired, though the wheel-lock gets a bit tricky. I try to keep it well cleaned, but after each use, sometimes the locks tend to stick." And at this notion, Davishire frowned, which was doubled in his reflection within the display case glass.
Khaeton nodded at that and waited as Davishire unlocked the guns the pair decided to use. Then they walked out onto the large lawn and gardens towards the lower field where Davishire had some servants set up a shooting range.
Davishire stepped up to the shooting line and sighted the Blue Pearl. Lord Khaeton insisted the lord of the manor go first, and so Lord Davishire took aim at the targets- and fired, smiling as he hadn't missed a mark.
He then handed the gun towards Johnsten, whom reloaded the wheel lock pistol with ease
"It has a good weight to it," he commented.
Davishire nodded; a proud notion.
"Yes the musket balls this one fires are quite powerful. But don't take my word for it.. try it yourself!"
Johnsten nodded and lifted the gun towards the firing range- and expertly took down almost the ceramic targets .
But one.
"Those were good shots, Lord Khaeton. Why don't you have another go? I'm sure you won't miss any this time." He was proud of his new friend, impressed even and didn't want to outshine the poor man. Besides, he could shoot his guns at his leisure.
"Very well.." Lord Khaeton went on, a nod of his head. "If you insist. I will be sure to hit my target "
Davishire actually smiled, surprising himself as he stood back while the other man took aim. But then he noted movement up at his manor home and frowned. He wasn't expecting visitors and his sister was away.
The ceramic targets exploded as Lord Khaeton began to fire. Davishire's frown deepened as it seemed there were men heading in their direction. He then turned back towards Johnsten to excuse himself when he froze-
For Lord Johnsten Khaeton now had his gun aimed at him. Davishire hesitated, asking with careful words
"What are you doing, Johnsten!?"
The other cocked the pistol.
"Sorry friend, but our meeting was simply an unfortunate necessity to ensure your family has no claims at the Hellvion throne."
Davishire blinked, astounded.
"This.. was... PLANNED!?" His words bellowed, body shaking in rage.
Johnsten gave a patronizing smile at his 'friend '.
"Oh don't sound so haughty about it. You've got a reputation that keeps others away from you.. did you honestly think you were fortunate enough to find yourself a friend?" The man had to laugh. Davishire was now red faced with anger, especially as he was soon being surrounded- and at the sounds of breaking glass... they were armed with hid own guns!
"So what do you plan to do with me now? You've brought a lot of men if you were planning on just shooting me dead in my lawn."
Lord Khaeton chuckled.
"That was the original plan but... seeing how I've come to know you so well.." the other went on. "I figured on sparing your life. After all... Essrynis are paying a pretty now for large men from the north."
Lord Johnsten gave a wicked smile.
"You bastard... do you really think you can get away with this!?" The large man barked, growing vicious, like a hound.
The other tsked.
"Think I can? Oh heavens, Lord Callister, I KNOW I can."
The smile.. that smile.. that wicked smile. Davishire could no longer contain his anger.
And the second he stepped forward- Lord Khaeton fired.
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Present Day. Just south of the bordering mountains.
The men wished they could have used the ocean, hauling living human cargo, especially cargo as unhappy as Lord Davishire Callister from Wellspeer, would have made the journey easier. The man almost escaped on them once, forcing them to throw his drugged body in a cargo box nailed shut rather than in his cage. Foolish that the man had tried. He was a large man too, heavy with muscle and a temper that could scare Ansgar himself.
But atleast the travel was quiet for now, as they were finally outside the borders of Connlaoth and now entering Serendipity. They still had a ways to go to lug the cargo to Essryn- and it better be worth it.
The disgruntled wagon driver felt something wet on his arm and cursed, halting the wagon as his men began to complain.
"Ethul, whydya stop? We got loads of roads to go!"
Ethul cursed.
"We stoppin' cause my nose is bloody bleeding again!"
"Again?" The other asked in alarm. "Ansgar's name, man, you tussled with the bloke over an hour ago!"
"Yeah, well, an hour don't heal up nothin' . Besides, we ought to check on the cargo. Be sure the damned still be alive."
No one of the men wanted that task naturally; as they all took this as a moment to stretch their legs.
Ethul sat beneath a tall oak tree, wrapping up his arm which- he cursed as it hurt like no tomorrow, was likely broken and would take months to heal. Ansgar's name... if it wasn't worth the money he'd be tempted to just shoot Davishire in the head. He spat to the side and glared at the box wedged in the back of the covered wagon.
He hoped they could keep this monster of a man contained. He'd already broken out of one cage so far.
