[RP] Home
Posted: Wed Aug 08, 2018 6:41 pm
There was silence in the forest, the summer days were slowly drawing to an end, yet winter was still far from the minds of men, and equally from the forest. Within the countless trees lived numerous forms of life, deer, bear, fox and wolf, and far more beyond that. Yet as day broke upon the land there was naught to be heard in the small green clearing just on the outskirts of the Northen Fenian manor which was the private home to the Winterbourne family. This land like all within the boundaries belonged to the Winterbourne family and as such all the game within, the trees, the roots and herbs that were often used for potions and treatments also belonged to them. However due to the lack of any major cities in Northern Fenia the land was rarely at risk from poaching or plundering, and those who lived and worked in the fields and villages that surrounded the Winterbourne estate and fortifications did so under the protection of the family and it’s soldiers. As it stood those soldiers carried the crest of the crowned wolf to signify that as it stood the Winterbourne house was the current ruling family within all of Fenia.
Yet that had not always been the case and in truth these lands which the Winterbourne’s now claimed as their own were once held by others. It had not been until the great partitioning of the land which saw the creation of new holdings, viscounties, baronies and counties which granted old and new nobles alike territory of their own. To hold. To protect. To utilize for the good of Fenia. The King had specifically taken Northern Fenia for his own, preferring the quiet Northern lands and forests to the busier cities of the capitol and Imperius, and likewise of the smaller, yet still busy port towns of Rome and Athena. These lands were quiet and good for hunting, however they had other uses. Northern Fenia’s lands were fertile and thus much of the grain and fodder that supplied the rest of the nation came from these lands, and thus under the laws of feudalism he saw great income from these goods into the dukedoms coffers. Not to mention with adequate defense he could protect the villages without spending thousands on guards like at the capitol. No Northern Fenia was truly the King’s home and hobby. Yet as ruling came to his calling so did leaving his home for the capitol and the dealings with his council and the nobility which came to have risen in the lands of Fenia. Those political games however were far less complicated than the reality of the Winterbourne house.
With the crown came turmoil and disagreement, and the breaking of this same family that ruled. While he remained, it was his siblings he lost. One dead. Two estranged from his company. One missing presumed dead. It was complicated, yet he knew as well as anyone else that to fix that problem would require time and effort. And thus deciding to leave the council in the hands of his Viceroy for several weeks he had returned to Northern Fenia and while doing so he sent letters to both his remaining siblings, inviting them to join him in Northern Fenia, away from the world and the eyes and instead to try and rekindle what had been lost. His duty was to the crown. Yet his heart was to his family. And at one time he had failed to balance duty and love. He would now have the near impossible task of rectifying that mistake. However if he did not attempt he knew the guilt would no doubt swallow him whole.
Thus, as the sun rose the silence of the forest was breached by the sound of hooves, rumbling like an earthquake, disrupting the peace of the fields and the forest as deer and other forms of creature ran to cover and shelter further within the thick woods. However the riders were not interested in game, no they were riding to, if reports were correct, to meet at the border family. There were nine riders in all, seven were guards. Clad in plate armour covered by by a hauberk dyed white and sewn into the chest was the crowned Winterbourne wolf sigil, which was also reflected upon the shields they carried. Also rode the steward of the estate, who looked after the affairs for the family while they were away. He was an old fellow, greyed in hair and withered in stature, yet his voice remained calm at all times. The man had been a close friend of their fathers and it only seemed right in the mind of Zuan Winterbourne that it should be he who looked after their estates given his loyalty to their family. The final rider was of course the King himself, Zuan Winterbourne. He wore black breeches and black leather riding boots which were tinted with gold embroidery which had become somewhat stained during the ride through some of the muddier roads that surrounded the boarder of his lands. Along with this was a black leather jerkin and a velvet halfcape which covered his left shoulder and the sheath of his sword that he carried at all times, given there was always chance for trouble. The sword was steel with a silver guard engraved with the family moto and the pommel was crafted into a wolfs head, with the eyes made of small rubies to provide a more visual effect. His hair was of medium length and billowed somewhat in the morning breeze as they rode at pace to the border, however they would make good time. And as they finally arrived at the border they waited, situated upon a small hill to give them clear sight across the threshold to see for any riders, carriages or movement upon the border and the hopeful arrival of family. His expression was calm, yet inside he truly did worry that this was all for naught and neither sister would heed his request to meet in the lands they once all called together ‘home’.
Yet that had not always been the case and in truth these lands which the Winterbourne’s now claimed as their own were once held by others. It had not been until the great partitioning of the land which saw the creation of new holdings, viscounties, baronies and counties which granted old and new nobles alike territory of their own. To hold. To protect. To utilize for the good of Fenia. The King had specifically taken Northern Fenia for his own, preferring the quiet Northern lands and forests to the busier cities of the capitol and Imperius, and likewise of the smaller, yet still busy port towns of Rome and Athena. These lands were quiet and good for hunting, however they had other uses. Northern Fenia’s lands were fertile and thus much of the grain and fodder that supplied the rest of the nation came from these lands, and thus under the laws of feudalism he saw great income from these goods into the dukedoms coffers. Not to mention with adequate defense he could protect the villages without spending thousands on guards like at the capitol. No Northern Fenia was truly the King’s home and hobby. Yet as ruling came to his calling so did leaving his home for the capitol and the dealings with his council and the nobility which came to have risen in the lands of Fenia. Those political games however were far less complicated than the reality of the Winterbourne house.
With the crown came turmoil and disagreement, and the breaking of this same family that ruled. While he remained, it was his siblings he lost. One dead. Two estranged from his company. One missing presumed dead. It was complicated, yet he knew as well as anyone else that to fix that problem would require time and effort. And thus deciding to leave the council in the hands of his Viceroy for several weeks he had returned to Northern Fenia and while doing so he sent letters to both his remaining siblings, inviting them to join him in Northern Fenia, away from the world and the eyes and instead to try and rekindle what had been lost. His duty was to the crown. Yet his heart was to his family. And at one time he had failed to balance duty and love. He would now have the near impossible task of rectifying that mistake. However if he did not attempt he knew the guilt would no doubt swallow him whole.
Thus, as the sun rose the silence of the forest was breached by the sound of hooves, rumbling like an earthquake, disrupting the peace of the fields and the forest as deer and other forms of creature ran to cover and shelter further within the thick woods. However the riders were not interested in game, no they were riding to, if reports were correct, to meet at the border family. There were nine riders in all, seven were guards. Clad in plate armour covered by by a hauberk dyed white and sewn into the chest was the crowned Winterbourne wolf sigil, which was also reflected upon the shields they carried. Also rode the steward of the estate, who looked after the affairs for the family while they were away. He was an old fellow, greyed in hair and withered in stature, yet his voice remained calm at all times. The man had been a close friend of their fathers and it only seemed right in the mind of Zuan Winterbourne that it should be he who looked after their estates given his loyalty to their family. The final rider was of course the King himself, Zuan Winterbourne. He wore black breeches and black leather riding boots which were tinted with gold embroidery which had become somewhat stained during the ride through some of the muddier roads that surrounded the boarder of his lands. Along with this was a black leather jerkin and a velvet halfcape which covered his left shoulder and the sheath of his sword that he carried at all times, given there was always chance for trouble. The sword was steel with a silver guard engraved with the family moto and the pommel was crafted into a wolfs head, with the eyes made of small rubies to provide a more visual effect. His hair was of medium length and billowed somewhat in the morning breeze as they rode at pace to the border, however they would make good time. And as they finally arrived at the border they waited, situated upon a small hill to give them clear sight across the threshold to see for any riders, carriages or movement upon the border and the hopeful arrival of family. His expression was calm, yet inside he truly did worry that this was all for naught and neither sister would heed his request to meet in the lands they once all called together ‘home’.