Sep 19, 2024 2:16 pm
Lash says:
Aundovald waits until a pause in the exchange that seems to be his turn for introduction."Hail, my Lord Chamberlain. I am honored to be here," he starts, with formality but sincerity as well. "I am Aundovald, a Ryder of the southern hills, and of all the wonderous lands of the Duchy.
I too came in answer to your summons. I heard your recent call-to-arms read aloud, and it moved my spirit to action in an instant. I would hear your directions, my Lord.
What is it that must be done to gain an advantage for this Land, our Folk, and most of all for our Rightful Sovereign the Duke, whose return we long await?"
"Hail, my Lord Chamberlain. I am honored to be here," he began, his tone respectful but carrying the weight of his conviction. "I am Aundovald, a Ryder of the southern hills, and of all the wondrous lands of the Duchy."
His words carried a clear and noble purpose, and Amberstead, still standing at the head of the table, shifted his gaze toward the armored knight with a glimmer of interest. Aundovald’s bearing was different from the others—his formal manner, though not without warmth, spoke of a deep sense of duty, not just to the Chamberlain but to the land itself.
"I too came in answer to your summons. I heard your recent call-to-arms read aloud, and it moved my spirit to action in an instant. I would hear your directions, my Lord." Aundovald’s hand rested on the hilt of his weapon, not out of threat but as a symbol of his readiness. His eyes remained fixed on Amberstead, unwavering.
"What is it that must be done to gain an advantage for this land, our folk, and most of all for our Rightful Sovereign the Duke, whose return we long await?"
There was a brief pause as Amberstead took in the sincerity of Aundovald’s words, his mind already turning toward the troubles that lay ahead. The mention of the Duke, still missing after all these years, struck a chord, though it was one that remained buried under the weight of daily survival. Amberstead’s face softened slightly, as if acknowledging the Ryder's steadfast belief in the Duke’s return—a belief that even he struggled to maintain.
"Aundovald, Ryder of the southern hills," Amberstead began, his voice carrying a note of appreciation, "your loyalty to the Duchy and to its sovereign is commendable. Your spirit, like those of the others here, is what this land desperately needs."
He paused, glancing briefly at the piles of paperwork cluttering the table. "There is much that must be done, though the path is far from clear. The Duke’s absence has left us vulnerable, and there are forces both within and outside these borders that seek to exploit that. What must be done, Ryder, is to restore order—to uncover what festers in the dark corners of this land, and to ready ourselves for the day when our Duke returns."
Amberstead’s gaze returned to Aundovald, his expression growing more resolute. "We need men like you—those willing to ride into the unknown, to seek out the threats that have taken root in our land, and to strike before they grow beyond our control. If we are to gain any advantage, we must be swift, and we must be vigilant. Your weapon will be needed in more ways than one."
Though the burden remained heavy on Amberstead's shoulders, the presence of Aundovald, with his clear sense of purpose, brought a further spark of hope to the chamber. The Ryder’s dedication to the duchy, the land, and the long-lost Duke was a reminder of the values that had once held Averancia together.
