Game Thread; Chivalry's Last Breath

Very well. I mean to say, I’m not one to normally go about perusing into tombs…but given the circumstances, I understand the merit.

I am gifted with abilities to combat certain…difficulties we may face in the catacombs.

Understood, m’Lord. We’ll leave forthwith.

"Errrrrm...." comments the robed fellow standing to the side. As if to emphasise his attempt to break into the conversation, a weasel slid down the length of his right sleeve, popping its head out of his wrist cuff and chittering loudly if not briefly, as if to announce to all (within a 400-kilometer radius) that its master wished to speak.

Embarassed at its forthcoming nature, he ushered the animal back into the sleeve and glanced about uncomfortably. His eyes were half-closed and weary from the onslaught of information dumped onto him. Yet like a slow-moving millstone, he began to break down the details, grind down the facts, and from it, produce a fresh new collection of counter-questions.

"I do have a question or two... or three... or seven, if I may?" he asked hesitantly, unsure if questions were allowed. The wizard Lord had paused to await feedback, though his sense of urgency in the matter seemed to have overtaken his sense of time, or his acknowledgement of its passing, resulting in the brief pause being as brief as brief can be.

Knowing he was a participant and not a principal member of the gathering, he waited for Lord Braynard's approval before offering some counter-inquiries.

Kerri stands rather aghast at the sight of a weasel. Although, our priestly debutante realizes how arcane types make strange bedfellows, to familiars of all shapes.

Kerri Amblecrowne, she eventually says to the wizardly fellow, in plain but kind clerically-minded introduction.

The edge of Lian's lip curled as he gently turned to face the towering knight. His head tilted while his deep brown eyes slowly shifted up at the imposing figure. "This is not a weasel, Sir Silas. This is Candace" he quips, correcting the stalwart warrior in such a manner and tone as if to not incite aggression.

"She is by far not common to the species and she fills the rolls of both 'laboratory assistant' and 'principal advisor'" he explains, raising his cuff to his mouth while muttering quietly, "It's all right, my dear... it isn't his fault; he doesn't know". His words of affirmation and reassurance are received with a swirling shape traveling from his forearm up through the shoulder and resulting in a small, furry, greyish-brown head popping out from his collar, softly pressed against his neck. The keen, bright eyes peer at Silas, judging him from foot to helm, then slowly her head slinks back down and out of sight; her final assessment unclear.

Shifting to face Lord Braynard once more, the young mage interjects "Lord Braynard, if nine witnesses tell you nine identical tales, unfailing in their consistency from beginning to end, then a tenth witness offers a different story, logic and the rule of weight would almost immediately dismiss that outlier" he starts, pausing to see if his vague, analogy of an example is obvious enough for his master to see where the young adept is coming from. Deciding that it's better to be a little more direct, he rephrases his concern.

"By this, I mean- if every document on record states that so-and-so is so-and-so's son... and suddenly a lone, solitary document claims that he is not, there would be no court or council who would side with the outcast. What supports your confidence that finding one document which differs from hundreds will be sufficient to sway the kingdom's opinion in your desired favor?"

"I have more inquiries of course, but I'd rather creep the floodgates open to gently flow into the stream rather than burst the damn and flood the town..." he hints, contrary to the information onslaught the group had just endured.

Our priestly debutante glances back and forth. From her knightly friend, to the mustelid-minded fellow, and back again.

Yes, sounds good, she finally says with clerical resolve.

Initially wanting to allow for a moment to get answers to his first inquiry, Liam felt it would be best to share ALL of his concerns in search of an answer. Why bother throttling the questions when they're all going to require answers,no?, he thought to himself. With that decision made, he posed his other queries, attempting to phrase them in a way that they could be catalogued, sorted and addressed individually.

"So if Edward and Chefon were born from the second wife and we seek someone born from the first wife, would that not make them even older?" he pondered, "How does this help us?" added the curious young researcher. "By this I mean- if Catherine, married to Edward, son of a second wife, is already too old to bear any children, would the spouse of a male from the first wife not be even older, and thus even LESS likely to bear children?" he prompted, contemplating his own question, pausing, then nodding in agreement as he realized that it did make sense after all.

The pause clearly didn't last long enough. "Furthermore, it was suggested that this document may reveal King Charles' true name- yet- I don't see how that changes anything. I could only risk assuming that there is more to this all but I fail to understand the benefit of knowing someone's true name when it is the lack of a viable heir that is the most pressing issue. Regardless if Charles' true name is Montgomery, Alistair, Winthrop, or Ignatius... there's still no heir" he noted overtly, even if the fact was obvious.

Liam glanced at Sir Silas, his mouth curled to the side, like he was chewing on a thought he didn’t quite trust. He lingered on the idea for some time, an uncomfortably long time, then responded in a controlled, muted tone, "If it weren't obvious already, I'm not necessarily built for adventure", he declared, stating something that was- let's face it- readily apparent. To further emphasize his point, the young mage gestured at himself from the top of his tousled hair to the bottom of his lounging boots, built for comfort rather than overland travel. "Knowing what's at stake and what difference our distant excursion will make is important to me, at least. I'm not fond of scurrying over like a dog to some spot where I think master threw the toy, only to rummage about and find nothing there. If there is hope and purpose to said document and if it helps us prevent the ascension of some cruel, heartless madman to power, then I am all for acquiring it. I only want to make certain we aren't running off on a fool's errand or on a let's see if this works wager with providence" he suggests warily.

It was risky to speak so overtly against one of his master's plans, but while Liam was ready and willing to undertake a journey that could make a difference in the world, he was much more skeptical about one that seemed so... desperate.