You stand in a corner of the gardens where the courtyard meets the castle’s walls, just outside the door to the Castle Apothecary. The Royal Garden here is dominated by a variety of plants known for their healing properties, including small shrubs of blackberries, various wildflowers and assorted herbs.
The plants are well-tended and the walk is quite aromatic! Beneath your feet is a decorative path which leads south and west away from the walls. South leads to the door to the Great Hall, West leads along the wall and further into the garden, in the general direction of the main gates of Cair Paravel.
Lanisen is sitting on a bench beside the little yew tree, one leg curled up underneath him. A book is open in his lap, and a notebook and charcoal are next to him.
Chlamash comes strolling along the pathway, a pipe in his mouth. He looks very thoughtful and it is likely that the strolling is of aimless type.
Continue reading recipients of grace
You stand in a surprisingly long, quiet room that runs the length of this side of Cair Paravel’s west wing. The room is narrow in shape, and thus appears to be more of a long, unusually wide corridor. Someone has constructed a series of shelves along the north wall, under tiny windows that let in only enough light to see by. Torchwicks line the south wall that can be lit for additional illumination, and under them sit several wooden tables and accompanying benches.
The floors are bare, so your footfalls send hollow-sounding echoes through the marble walls. There are archways at the southeast and west ends of the room — the west archway leading into the northwest tower, and the southeast archway leading into the common gallery.
Chlamash glances to Mateo, “Zalinreh was a little land under her own disorganized rule. The possession of a lessor lord of a lesser land. Teebeth, the capital city of Tisroc’s enemy. Both now prosper under the Tisroc’s rule.” He thinks for a moment, “Now where should I begin…” This he says more to himself than to his companion.
Mateo nods a little as he listens, waiting for the main part of the story to begin.
Lanisen steps into the library, the heavy door closing softly behind him, carrying two cups of tea. He turns aside to talk briefly with the Faun attendant at her desk and leaves one cup of tea with her before moving on. He looks toward Chlamash and Mateo curiously.
Continue reading war stories
Lanisen has found an alcove in which to tuck himself away under one of the windows on the north wall. The early afternoon sunlight slants down onto the pages of his book and reflects onto his face from underneath.
Avery enters the library, holding a leather-bound book and a small, thin wooden box. Her steps are quiet, but there are little clacking sounds coming from the box.
Lanisen looks up at the soft weighty sound of the door closing again. He straightens slightly where he sits, alert, and gets up to bow.
Continue reading portraits and shaky ground
Edmund sits before the library fire with a book open in his lap, his long legs outstretched and feet resting on a hassock. Besides him steams a mug of something that smells of apples and comfort.
Lanisen enters the library through the heavy doors to the east, shutting them gently behind him. Despite the care he takes, the sound echoes softly through the room and up to the high ceiling.
The young King lifts his head at the noise.
Continue reading we traitors three
Chlamash is making his way along by one of the shelves of histories. He takes a book from the shelf examining it, leafing shortly through it before setting it back in its place.
Lanisen slips into the library from the common gallery, glancing down the room as he does so. Catching sight of Chlamash, he hesitates, then ducks his head and makes his way toward the shelves.
Continue reading mutual apology
Lanisen has, as is becoming his habit, found a space in the late morning at one of the back tables with a book. He is reading silently and seems absorbed, except that he is rubbing his right shoulder absently with his thumb as he does so.
Chlamash enters quietly, a cup of tea in his hands and an book or two under his arm. He doesn’t look to be particularly well rested this morning however, of his attire however nothing seems to be out of place.
Continue reading overstepping & morning insomnia
Lanisen is bundled up against the early afternoon chill in clothing that is plain and rather worn, but sturdy and warm. He has his hands in his pockets, and is walking unhurriedly through the garden, looking at the bright autumn colors of the trees and shrubbery.
Chlamash strolls into the gardens looking at ease, he is wearing warmer clothing as well that is somewhat plainer than his usual flair and has a distinctive Narnian look to it.
Continue reading foreigner chat
Chlamash enters the library with mug of tea in his hands and makes his way towards his usual table. A faint scent of sea air and pipe smoke may linger around him.
Lanisen has found a quiet table at which to tuck himself away. One of the books from Chlamash’s stack is open in front of him, and he has a piece of paper for making notes, but he’s definitely not doing any sort of quick skimming. He doesn’t even notice Chlamash enter, entirely absorbed.
Continue reading further studies
Lanisen wanders up and down the shelves, his hands folded behind his back, carefully not touching anything, only looking. His footfalls are quiet in the silent room.
A son of adam wearing ornate garb of superior nobility enters the library making not very much sound, a small book in hand as well as a pouch which can be presumed to be carrying a ink and a quill by the tip of the feather protruding from it. He makes his way in a rather direct fashion towards a table with quite a few books and scrolls set upon it. He does not seem to see the any other occupants at this particular time.
Continue reading cervidology
At the Fork
The path divides here, one fork curving west toward Anvard and the other continuing to the northeast toward Andale. The trees are very thick here, with dense patches of thorny briar filling in the gaps between trunks, and it is impossible to see very far down the road in any direction. Sweet raspberries can be found in the thickets on either side of the path in summertime, and the forest is noisy with wildlife.
(OOC note: the events of this RP follow chapter 11 of The Horse and His Boy, and a more complete log can be found here. This log contains crowd and battle scenes which have been edited and color-coded for clarity and readability.)
Lune, at the head of the hunting party, keeps his horse at a brisk canter. He draws up outside the gates and turns to face the company. “The town must be warned.” He surveys them briefly, grim-faced and calculating, and says, “Sir Colin.”
Colin guides his mount to King Lune’s side. “Sire?” He asks, his expression serious.
Dar follows close behind his sovereign, his own expression sober to the point of severity. He reins Celeres in and listens intently.
Lanisen draws up as well, handling his horse with far more ease than two months ago at this time, and glances from the king to Colin.
Continue reading anvard under siege