therecusant says:
News comes to Dux Maelgwyn - the heathen have declared a feud against the remnant of Christian Rome.
"Let them come. We'll slake their rage on our spikes and spears".
"There is one other matter, my Lord. A scroll from Alt Clut, specifically the lady Meadhbh Llewellynw!"
Maelgwyn all but snatches the scroll from his seneschal. A moment of silence follows. And then:
"Owain?"
"Yes, sire?"
"We travel for Dùn Breatainn as the guests of she whom, some say, is of the fey"OOC:
Only too happy to ally with a fabled Christian Queen!
[quote="therecusant"]News comes to Dux Maelgwyn - the heathen have declared a feud against the remnant of Christian Rome.
"Let them come. We'll slake their rage on our spikes and spears".
"There is one other matter, my Lord. A scroll from Alt Clut, specifically the lady Meadhbh Llewellynw!"
Maelgwyn all but snatches the scroll from his seneschal. A moment of silence follows. And then:
"Owain?"
"Yes, sire?"
"We travel for Dùn Breatainn as the guests of she whom, some say, is of the fey"OOC:
Only too happy to ally with a fabled Christian Queen!
The small court of Maelgwyn ap Cunedda, coming directly from Wales, rides through the lands of Strathclyde, after having crossed the small western coast of what was the Kingdom of York. The first thing the Welsh notices is the towns, and its people. This fief is rich, and well administrated. The villages and towns are well run, and while not exactly Roman, there is a modicum of order that the Kingdom of York does not share anymore.
Whoever this fabled queen is, surely she must be a great administrator. Oh, and rich, so very rich. They make stories about her beauty, but the woman who owns this land must be rich.
The small group of the Welsh is intercepted right outside the city of Strathclyde, by a group of knights. Well armored, well fed, well trained, and with strong horses. The woman that leads that is majestic.
The stories don't make her justice. As the two groups mingle, it is Lady Meadhbh Llewellynw herself that stops in front of the Welsh earl. She removes her tiara, allowing her long, platinum blonde hair to flow freely. She is wearing armor, a beatiful, black armor that hugs her body perfectly. She has probably had it made for herself. Beautiful and rich, right?
Her icy blue eyes find the Earl, and she smiles.
"Welcome, my lord of Maelgwyn ap Cunedda" she greets him, slightly bowing her head.
