After his time in the Tower, and a long night's rest, Leopold spent most of the next day in the gardens of his estate, talking to no-one, but merely thinking, ignoring the silent procession of servants, guards, and family members who wandered past or stood guard over him - none foolish enough to speak to him.
After a great deal of thought and tribulations, he stood and began to walk, his feet taking him to the forge in the city, where he watched the Master Smith - Bahiri Durinul - at work. Bahiri looked up from his work when his Lord approached, nodding his head in respect and smiling as he continued to hammer on a bar of red-hot metal, eliciting sparks from every stroke of his hammer.
After awhile of this, Bahiri dunked the finished blade in a cauldron of water, then left it to cool, turning to Leopold. Walking over to the lord, he'd lean on the counter, saying simply "I 'eard ye go' ou', was wond'rin' when ye'd be by. Ye a'righ'?"
Leopold didn't answer for a moment, but then he'd look a bit haunted, and all the will would seem to seep out of him. He'd sigh and say "I'm not sure what to do, old friend. My life does not meet the measure of the Synod, or the Spirit, it seems, and my family suffers for it."
Bahiri would take his hand and say simply "Do what you did when you were young and your heart flew. Pack your bags. Leave that all-too-capable wife of yours in charge. Go out and adventure. Take your blade into the defense of the weak and the kind. Go remind yourself how being a good man feels."
Nodding, Leopold would turn to leave, Bahiri's smile on his back as he strode back to his estate to pack his armor, weapons, and traveling gear into a bag.
After ordering his horse saddled and provisions made up, he headed up to his chambers, where he smiled and chuckled to find a brand-new set of fine steel armor laid out on the bed, cleverly crafted to allow for a full range of motion with chain and scale mail protecting the vulnerable joints. The Falcon Sigil enameled on the breastplate was a work of art on its own, and the falcon crest on the helm made even more of an impression. A note tacked to the plate with a bit of wax read "You'll need this where you're going. - Bahiri."
Grinning, he'd have the new set packed into his saddlebags, and begin to gather his other items. Finally, he'd head out to the garden to pray, drawing his falcon-hilted, red crysteel longsword and resting it on the ground in front of him while he prayed for the Spirit to return to him to guide him.
Finally, he'd stand, sheathe his blade, mount his black destrier, and ride out of the city in a Viridian tabard and a silver and red cloak, leaving nothing but a note for his family, appointing his brother Sebastian Patriarch Regent until he sent word otherwise.
@ParisaPax @NathanPlayzMC_14 @CorrosGaming @MonMarty @Aespair @Bagley_
After a great deal of thought and tribulations, he stood and began to walk, his feet taking him to the forge in the city, where he watched the Master Smith - Bahiri Durinul - at work. Bahiri looked up from his work when his Lord approached, nodding his head in respect and smiling as he continued to hammer on a bar of red-hot metal, eliciting sparks from every stroke of his hammer.
After awhile of this, Bahiri dunked the finished blade in a cauldron of water, then left it to cool, turning to Leopold. Walking over to the lord, he'd lean on the counter, saying simply "I 'eard ye go' ou', was wond'rin' when ye'd be by. Ye a'righ'?"
Leopold didn't answer for a moment, but then he'd look a bit haunted, and all the will would seem to seep out of him. He'd sigh and say "I'm not sure what to do, old friend. My life does not meet the measure of the Synod, or the Spirit, it seems, and my family suffers for it."
Bahiri would take his hand and say simply "Do what you did when you were young and your heart flew. Pack your bags. Leave that all-too-capable wife of yours in charge. Go out and adventure. Take your blade into the defense of the weak and the kind. Go remind yourself how being a good man feels."
Nodding, Leopold would turn to leave, Bahiri's smile on his back as he strode back to his estate to pack his armor, weapons, and traveling gear into a bag.
After ordering his horse saddled and provisions made up, he headed up to his chambers, where he smiled and chuckled to find a brand-new set of fine steel armor laid out on the bed, cleverly crafted to allow for a full range of motion with chain and scale mail protecting the vulnerable joints. The Falcon Sigil enameled on the breastplate was a work of art on its own, and the falcon crest on the helm made even more of an impression. A note tacked to the plate with a bit of wax read "You'll need this where you're going. - Bahiri."
Grinning, he'd have the new set packed into his saddlebags, and begin to gather his other items. Finally, he'd head out to the garden to pray, drawing his falcon-hilted, red crysteel longsword and resting it on the ground in front of him while he prayed for the Spirit to return to him to guide him.
Finally, he'd stand, sheathe his blade, mount his black destrier, and ride out of the city in a Viridian tabard and a silver and red cloak, leaving nothing but a note for his family, appointing his brother Sebastian Patriarch Regent until he sent word otherwise.
@ParisaPax @NathanPlayzMC_14 @CorrosGaming @MonMarty @Aespair @Bagley_
