At last the newborn struggled its way into this world. Percy Ravenstad stood at the corner of the small Hinterlandish room, his arms folded in a sense of diligent judgement. As if he were inspecting a levy's performance with a blade, rather than watching his wife birth their first child. The cries of the newborn Ravenstad echoed throughout the chamber. The surgeons stepped aside as the future High Lord marched towards his child, scooping it into his large muscled arms. "Leave us." The Ravenstad bellowed, sending the white robed priestly healers out of the room with a scuttle. Along with them, a more elegantly dressed Reverend, ginger locked, and sharp featured, attempted to scurry to the doorway. "Not you." Percy uttered, his expression stern, as the curious newborn pawed at his silken clothes. "The sooner we have this blessing performed. The better…" Percy continued. "So get to it, Médard. He will be named Rodolphe." the man would usher, as he looked his son in the eyes. Médard shuffled on the spot for a moment, attempting to look around the large bulky man to get a glimpse of the small child. "The Leutz.. My Lord? Or the Confessor?." Médard would question, referring to the two previously named Rodolphes of the Ravenstad line. Percy glanced back to the man, rolling his eyes "The Leutz... Though maybe Rodolphe the first, just didn't like Castle Machellon's cooking. I can sympathise with that at times." he quipped, making jest of the starved Lord of Hinterlandia. "Waste no more time."
The Reverend gave a firm nod, approaching the child, and grasping it into the baggy arms of his clerical garbs. Adelheid, Percy's wife, watched as the two men passed her child back and forth, her face dropped to a blank expression. She leaned back into the bloodied bed, her bit had been done, and her piece had been served. Her mind wandered into the depths of Alorian mystery, as the Reverend read the First Creed. Médard pressed his thumb against the child's forehead, drawing a Unionist Eye across the young Rodolphe's flesh. Médard gave a humble nod of his head, presenting the child back to his father. Then Percy offered a brisk grumble, taking Médard by the shoulder as he cupped the young Rodolphe under his arm. The three made their exit from the chamber, as Adelheid lay in a state of numb pain.
"My Lord… I made my way here to discuss something more.. Fragile than that of your.. Most fragile son." Médard begin to state, as the pair traced their way through the Grand Hall of castle Machellon. Percy wafted his hand for the man to continue, before placing his child in a small wooden cradle with great care, at the end of the hallway. Overlooked by large stone statues of Ravenstad Lords of old. "Your brother. Spirit bless his name. Is /sick/. My Lord." Médard would begin, his Reverendly features showing some nervousness. "Some question whether, much like his father. His illness is preventing him from truly… Leading. As our Lord of Hinterlandia auctoritas. If you'll excuse my proto-Regalian." Percy furrowed his brow, his beard visibly ruffling in agitation. "What're you saying… Cleric." the large Knight muttered under his breath. The Reverend turned his attention to the large stone carved statues of the hall, pacing down into the spacious corridor to better view them. "It would be unnatural for all these men to follow a single, straight line, down our family tree. There have been many switches. Changes. In our long family history." Médard would ramble, as Percy's honourable eyes glared into the back of his head. "It is sometimes in the interest of the family, for a certain change… Your father for example. He was a second son such as-.." Percy would step down from the cradle, bounding his way towards the cleric with clenched fists. "Don't speak of my father, you priestley twig." Percy would usher with a booming echo through the hall, as he pushed the purple robed priest into a stumble. The Reverend flinched, raising a thumbless hand in defence as he explained himself "The Elder Council wishes for you to become regent!" The man would yell, his Leutz accent thick, with the sudden need to respond. Percy halted, allowing the man to say his bit, as he glared back to his son, to check on Rodolphe's state. "They want you to /lead/. They see you fit to /lead/. Though after you've done all of that. After you've filled your brother's boots. They won't even allow /that/ boy the fruits of your effort." Médard exclaimed, as he pointed a lone finger towards Rodolphe. "I've said what I must.. Do what /you/ must." Médard said harshly, as he turned to leave the room. Percy stared on at the retreating Reverend. His face red with anger, as the man in turn, made his way back to his child… The Lords and Dukes of old watched over Percival and his son. Their eyes neither approving or disapproving to his conflicted predicament. Half of him a loyal brother, while the other half, a father.. With his son's future, and prosperity in mind.
At last the newborn struggled its way into this world. Percy Ravenstad stood at the corner of the small Hinterlandish room, his arms folded in a sense of diligent judgement. As if he were inspecting a levy's performance with a blade, rather than watching his wife birth their first child. The cries of the newborn Ravenstad echoed throughout the chamber. The surgeons stepped aside as the future High Lord marched towards his child, scooping it into his large muscled arms. "Leave us." The Ravenstad bellowed, sending the white robed priestly healers out of the room with a scuttle. Along with them, a more elegantly dressed Reverend, ginger locked, and sharp featured, attempted to scurry to the doorway. "Not you." Percy uttered, his expression stern, as the curious newborn pawed at his silken clothes. "The sooner we have this blessing performed. The better…" Percy continued. "So get to it, Médard. He will be named Rodolphe." the man would usher, as he looked his son in the eyes. Médard shuffled on the spot for a moment, attempting to look around the large bulky man to get a glimpse of the small child. "The Leutz.. My Lord? Or the Confessor?." Médard would question, referring to the two previously named Rodolphes of the Ravenstad line. Percy glanced back to the man, rolling his eyes "The Leutz... Though maybe Rodolphe the first, just didn't like Castle Machellon's cooking. I can sympathise with that at times." he quipped, making jest of the starved Lord of Hinterlandia. "Waste no more time."
The Reverend gave a firm nod, approaching the child, and grasping it into the baggy arms of his clerical garbs. Adelheid, Percy's wife, watched as the two men passed her child back and forth, her face dropped to a blank expression. She leaned back into the bloodied bed, her bit had been done, and her piece had been served. Her mind wandered into the depths of Alorian mystery, as the Reverend read the First Creed. Médard pressed his thumb against the child's forehead, drawing a Unionist Eye across the young Rodolphe's flesh. Médard gave a humble nod of his head, presenting the child back to his father. Then Percy offered a brisk grumble, taking Médard by the shoulder as he cupped the young Rodolphe under his arm. The three made their exit from the chamber, as Adelheid lay in a state of numb pain.
"My Lord… I made my way here to discuss something more.. Fragile than that of your.. Most fragile son." Médard begin to state, as the pair traced their way through the Grand Hall of castle Machellon. Percy wafted his hand for the man to continue, before placing his child in a small wooden cradle with great care, at the end of the hallway. Overlooked by large stone statues of Ravenstad Lords of old. "Your brother. Spirit bless his name. Is /sick/. My Lord." Médard would begin, his Reverendly features showing some nervousness. "Some question whether, much like his father. His illness is preventing him from truly… Leading. As our Lord of Hinterlandia auctoritas. If you'll excuse my proto-Regalian." Percy furrowed his brow, his beard visibly ruffling in agitation. "What're you saying… Cleric." the large Knight muttered under his breath. The Reverend turned his attention to the large stone carved statues of the hall, pacing down into the spacious corridor to better view them. "It would be unnatural for all these men to follow a single, straight line, down our family tree. There have been many switches. Changes. In our long family history." Médard would ramble, as Percy's honourable eyes glared into the back of his head. "It is sometimes in the interest of the family, for a certain change… Your father for example. He was a second son such as-.." Percy would step down from the cradle, bounding his way towards the cleric with clenched fists. "Don't speak of my father, you priestley twig." Percy would usher with a booming echo through the hall, as he pushed the purple robed priest into a stumble. The Reverend flinched, raising a thumbless hand in defence as he explained himself "The Elder Council wishes for you to become regent!" The man would yell, his Leutz accent thick, with the sudden need to respond. Percy halted, allowing the man to say his bit, as he glared back to his son, to check on Rodolphe's state. "They want you to /lead/. They see you fit to /lead/. Though after you've done all of that. After you've filled your brother's boots. They won't even allow /that/ boy the fruits of your effort." Médard exclaimed, as he pointed a lone finger towards Rodolphe. "I've said what I must.. Do what /you/ must." Médard said harshly, as he turned to leave the room. Percy stared on at the retreating Reverend. His face red with anger, as the man in turn, made his way back to his child… The Lords and Dukes of old watched over Percival and his son. Their eyes neither approving or disapproving to his conflicted predicament. Half of him a loyal brother, while the other half, a father.. With his son's future, and prosperity in mind.
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