A Noble Death.

Based on In-Game Events
Featuring
@Ryria and @Walrusaur_ among others.

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A Noble Death​

Lorenzo Martinez had just arrived at The Coen's Countryside Fort. The sewer journey through the tunnels, the same pilfer smugglers used, was a dangerous one, though less-so with the amount of rebels now making their home there. He had a mission, and a very dangerous one, at that.

"Oye!" He called. Lorenzo was distinctively paler. He'd have dragged his feet across snow for hours, making sure that nobody saw him. It could be the fear he had that made him pale, or it could have been the cold. Either way, it stood as foreshadowing of a corpse's deathly pallor.

The first to arrive was Madeleine d'Eluise -- that wretched woman. As always, she mocked Lorenzo. The verbal exchange itself I can't remember, but it had something to do with bullshit and how Madeleine smelled it on Lorenzo. He thought aloud, "How would Madeleine be so familiar with such a smell?". Still, Lorenzo told her his plan: To go to Daenshore and call back the reconquest army, even if a third of it.

Royland Blackwater came second. He'd already had enough of it. Funny that one could hate Lorenzo so much without ever knowing him personally. Such is the power of the Coen word. Three seconds, that's all he gave him, to get away, or get shot. The archers were already ready.

"One," Royland counted.
"It's been five minutes." Lorenzo said.

"Two."

Lorenzo shut his eyes, gripping the gate's cold bars. He started his prayers. Would they really kill a noble dedicated to their cause?

"Three."

And with that, Blackwater dropped his axe. He pulled out his own bow, and, in unison with the rest of the archers, let the arrows fly. Lorenzo's shoulder, his shin, his waist; they made him look like a doll with pins in it. Perhaps somewhere in the world some enemy of his had pricked a figure of him with needles to condemn him to such vile luck.

And with that, without even finishing his prayers, Lorenzo Martinez fell the ground. No more than a whimper escaped his lungs as he hit his head with the floor.

He didn't move after that.

Only after Whitlock Carswell attempted to jump over the castle wall, but failed, did Lorenzo disappear. Perhaps the wolves had dragged him to the dinner table, or perhaps the Coens to their own. A trail of blood was seen in the snow.
 
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Silent_Ruler
Silent_Ruler
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Based on In-Game Events
Featuring
@Ryria and @Walrusaur_ among others.

tumblr_my6z6j269F1qk91wgo1_1280.jpg


A Noble Death​

Lorenzo Martinez had just arrived at The Coen's Countryside Fort. The sewer journey through the tunnels, the same pilfer smugglers used, was a dangerous one, though less-so with the amount of rebels now making their home there. He had a mission, and a very dangerous one, at that.

"Oye!" He called. Lorenzo was distinctively paler. He'd have dragged his feet across snow for hours, making sure that nobody saw him. It could be the fear he had that made him pale, or it could have been the cold. Either way, it stood as foreshadowing of a corpse's deathly pallor.

The first to arrive was Madeleine d'Eluise -- that wretched woman. As always, she mocked Lorenzo. The verbal exchange itself I can't remember, but it had something to do with bullshit and how Madeleine smelled it on Lorenzo. He thought aloud, "How would Madeleine be so familiar with such a smell?". Still, Lorenzo told her his plan: To go to Daenshore and call back the reconquest army, even if a third of it.

Royland Blackwater came second. He'd already had enough of it. Funny that one could hate Lorenzo so much without ever knowing him personally. Such is the power of the Coen word. Three seconds, that's all he gave him, to get away, or get shot. The archers were already ready.

"One," Royland counted.
"It's been five minutes." Lorenzo said.

"Two."

Lorenzo shut his eyes, gripping the gate's cold bars. He started his prayers. Would they really kill a noble dedicated to their cause?

"Three."

And with that, Blackwater dropped his axe. He pulled out his own bow, and, in unison with the rest of the archers, let the arrows fly. Lorenzo's shoulder, his shin, his waist; they made him look like a doll with pins in it. Perhaps somewhere in the world some enemy of his had pricked a figure of him with needles to condemn him to such vile luck.

And with that, without even finishing his prayers, Lorenzo Martinez fell the ground. No more than a whimper escaped his lungs as he hit his head with the floor.

He didn't move after that.

Only after Whitlock Carswell attempted to jump over the castle wall, but failed, did Lorenzo disappear. Perhaps the wolves had dragged him to the dinner table, or perhaps the Coens to their own. A trail of blood was seen in the snow.
 
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oh boy, only read the title since it was a WIP at the time of posting.

After reading:

glad Dietrich got out when he did. Kronau is a death trap.
 
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If, when, Chris found out later that day, a steely look would overcome his face. "Only His Imperial Highness has the right to decide a nobleman of the realm's fate in matters of life, death and execution." Frowning and grumbling, he'd walk away to a quiet corner of the broken fort.
 
The writing of this is beautiful. Magnanimous writing for a magnanimous death, I'd say.
 
Oh my God. No. I have no words.
 
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Johann van Blecher-Schulz, a lowly Typhonus horseman atop his battered Pure Black Calmeberger, trotted back at good speeds towards the vigilant Buerg Eleng. The gates, both outer and inner parts, cracked open with a protesting sound of screeching chains and rope, allowing the man and his mare to move inside freely.

After receiving word from the scout, the Duke Percival II Ravenstad moved to the battlements of his castle, summoning the people and folks gathered, "Traitors or not, it is not to say; Nobility is an Emperor-given right, and we shall not infringe upon that even in the face of trying times. Anyone who harms or kills a member of such will be summarily hanged." The dirty and tattered, raven-armor clad man glanced to his Kommandant, giving a stern nod before going to head back inside. Kommandant Krier moved to where his liege stood before, ordering the retainers back into patrols, sending the Typhonus Horsemen back out the gates.​
 
I enjoy this writing, it gave me a good visualization of what happened. I sorta imagained it to be like a GoT scene.
 
Cecil Empolan had been sitting surprisingly quiet in a corner of the Golden Willow, listening for the latest rumor to pick up on, when the news struck his ears. The Shendar stood straight upright, his eyes going wide with shock. Duke Lorenzo Martinez was dead, they declared. It was as if his heart had been struck by one of the arrows that afflicted Lorenzo in his final moments. He whispered soft denials to himself, falling to his knees.

Lorenzo, the man who approached all odds with sharpened wit and a plan.

Lorenzo, the man who gave him work when no other would.

Lorenzo, who helped him feed his son.

Lorenzo, his dear friend.

He was dead, slain by the rebel Coens-- who he was trying to help. Cecil grit his teeth, snarling before choking back the tears. He would make them pay, for Lorenzo.
 
Streako said:
He was dead, slain by the rebel Coens-- who he was trying to help.
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Silent_Ruler said:
And with that, Blackwater dropped his axe. He pulled out his own bow, and, in unison with the rest of the archers, let the arrows fly. Lorenzo's shoulder, his shin, his waist; they made him look like a doll with pins in it. Perhaps somewhere in the world some enemy of his had pricked a figure of him with needles to condemn him to such vile luck.
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The only man to speak out against this act, bore no expression of pain or joy. The Nelfin humbly sat upon his bed that following night, having been released from harm by a kind-hearted Coen... With Lorenzo on his mind and the designated plan running through his head, the thoughtful elf considered his role in the future. Whilst Lorenzo's death was something of a shock, it wasn't without meaning to Whitlock.

That said, he lowered himself down onto the makeshift bed that so many others had to deal with... The elf considered the fallen noble and the Kronau resistance alike... They each wanted Regalia back but were separated by the means in which they chose to achieve it. He couldn't help but think back to his days in the sewer and about those who wanted the Beggars Crown but it only led to mass segregation... A cheeky but almost inaudible snicker broke through his already parted lips... "Lorenzo... Do you ever change?" he questioned himself, though not aloud, before shutting his eyes and shaking his head... He'd sleep soundly tonight.
 
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