La Taverne (KOTF IC Thread)

In downtown Paris, hidden among a maze of small streets an alleyways, sits a small tavern. From outside it seems modest, perhaps even rundown, it's brick walls in much need of repair. There is no sign outside the heavy oak doors, only a small green branch signifying that wine can be bought there.

Anyone entering the building for the first time would be shocked by how misleading its facade is. Inside everything is emaculate. Tapestries celebrating such famous French battles as that of Charles Martel at Tours-Poitiers hang from the walls. Heavy oak tables with extensive carvings of a Dionysian theme are occupied by nobles from all of France and beyond, as well as occasionally by men of a somewhat shadier aspect. In the main room there is a large oak bar at which any wine one can imagine can be had (and even some of that swill Englishmen and Germans call beer), while the kitchen serves food renowned throughout Paris for its quality. Adjacent to the main room and bar is a small library with shelves of books stacked to the ceiling and several smaller chairs, while in the back of the building sumptuous rooms can be rented.

This is La Taverne, where the leaders of France and their hangers-on plan the future of the kingdom.

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

IC thread for KOTF. No OOC posts, please, and all .org forum rules apply. :bow:

Prince Louis enters the tavern quietly, followed by only an abbreviated retinue. With a glance he spots the best table, a wide oval set in the corner furthest from the front door but not too distant from the back door, where one could watch all who enter without being immediately obvious about it. After pointing one of his men towards the bar Louis strides confidently over to that table, which is occupied by an odd collection of Germans, Venetians, and two French merchants having a whisper laden discussion whose pace accelerates as the Prince approaches. At a single imperious gesture from Louis all discussion ends and the men at the table depart with placating bows.

A nervous looking young man from the Prince's retinue, perhaps fourteen years of age, hastily pulls out a cloth and wipes the table clean. Louis then selects a seat which leaves him facing the bar, able to see most of the tavern comfortably. The three remaining members of the party take seats around the Prince's own, as the final member of their group returns from the bar and announces, with relish,

"They have it in stock m'lord. Two bottles. I've ordered both to be sent over."

The Prince's grin is wide now, but still he does not speak, only gestures for the man to take a seat. Patiently Louis waits and thinks,

'Now, let's see who comes to work and who to play...'

:egypt:

Gaetan de Rethel enters, wrapped in his plain brown cloak and hood, and does a quick scan of the tavern and it's unusual level of silence. Approaching the bar with measured foosteps, Gaetan motions to the bartender and begins to speak quietly to him. Although the bartender nor Gaeten actually look in Prince Louis's direction, it appears that is what was discussed - whether in good faith or not, that is only between the bartender and Gaeten.

After sliding a handful of coin to the bartender for a mere two mugs, Gaeten takes a seat were several other soldiers are, and passes one of the mugs to a soldier across from him with a smile on his face, and begins to animatedly discuss...something, for the soldiers table is to far away to be heard clearly from the otherside of the room. Within minutes, laughter echoes from the table as the soldiers and Gaetan begin to engage in song.

Hugues enters the tavern with his servant trailing him. Nodding to Gaetan and tracing a bow to the Duaphin, he takes a table between the two. Reeves brings two glasses and a bottle from the bar. After savoring his first sip, the Duc exclaims to no one in particular:

A good bottle wine of is wonderful, but when is this tourney to begin? How complicated is it to arrange an event where a bunch of men poke sticks at each other?

Reeves coughs and interjects:

Actually Seigneur, the logistics are quite complex. Food and fodder must be arranged for the participants, their mounts and the audience. Besides the actual jousting, there will be music, a baiting or two, an archery competition. . .

Hugues interrupts:

Yes, yes, but they're people for that aren't there? I don't see why it wouldn't take just a day or two to set it all up.

Reeves shows no expression:

Quite so Seigneur.

Gaeten spies Duc Hughes enter, and nods respectfully and with a smile to him. Motioning to the others at the table he would be back, Gaeten made his way over to Hughes.

"My Duc Hughes, interesting to find you here, I see you are anxious for the tourney as well - and good evening Reeves, everything well? You look a bit stressed - care to have some wine, or if you can hold it down, ale?" Motioning to the bartender, Gaeten laid some coin down for the drinks.

"Do not worry about money tonight, everything is on me. I was able to send some men back to the fields yesterday, and sold off the unneeded equipment. Should expect a good harvest this year, so long as it remains peaceful for another few months."

Hugues responds:

Reeves!? Ha, I can assure you his humor is sanguine. He's quite the stoic.

The Duc claps him on the back, causing Reeves to spill the wine he had been about to drink.

That reminds me, be a good fellow and go polish my armor, it has to look grand for the Tourney.

Reeves dabs at his tunic and leaves without comment. Hugues turns his attention back to Gaeten.

Your money is no good here Chevalier. No vassal of mine pays for his drinks while I'm here. Particularly if you're dependent on things staying peaceful for your fortune. You don't get these many nobles in the same place without something warlike coming out of it.

The door bangs open, and immediately there is a peel of trumpets and a deafening noise.

From outside a voice subdues the racket.

"Sweet Jesus that's loud! Girls, get in t’ere, you lot stay out side and keep the riff raff from coming in."

Entering the tavern with a girl under each arm the Duke of Bretagne is dressed casually, however a sword does hang from his side. More young attractive girls follow the young Duke inside.

Grinning widely he scans the interior.

"Alright ladies, spread yourselves liberally about the place and don't be shy, there's a tournament soon and some of these poor fellows may lose a limb or more. Give t’em a treat and be friendly!!

"Ah, my Prince."

A fluid and practised bow is executed.

"Lorraine, good to see you." He nods towards Hugues de Champagne.

"Drinks for everyone!! It's going to be a great summer!!"

Hugues chokes on his wine as the trumpets go off.

Mon Dieu! Duc Alain, is that your retinue or are you invading Paris? Though I must say your "soldiers" are easier on the eye than the average footman. It's a small miracle you made it through English territory with all this.

Tell me, will you be riding that monstrous poodle you have in the Tourney? That thing is immense.

Gaetan is about to object to Duc Hughes, but the loud blaring of trumpets and the boisterous arrival of Alain de Rohan, Gaetan's mouth slammed shut, and he resigned himself to drinking from his glass as he leaned back upon the bar with one arm.

"I thank you for your kindne-" was all he managed to whisper out before being accosted by one of the many women de Rohan had brought with him. Gaetan choked on his wine before swallowing hard and setting it down. The girl grabbed Gaetans hand and slowly pulled him away from the bar. A grin spread across his face as he turned to Duc Hughes.

"You'll forgive me my Duc, it appears a damsel is in distress, and I am never one to backdown." With a giggles from the girl, Gaetan slowly led her to the back of the tavern.

Beaming at everyone in the room.

"Excellent girls you certainly were worth the price."

Taking a seat next to the Duke he continues. Grabbing a girl and placing her on his knee as he sips some wine.

"Lorraine, the trick to getting throug' Englis' territory is simple. Make sure you can drink ale and make sure you 'ave plenty of young ladies with you!

As for my 'ound Madoc, 'e will be with me, but unfortunately I will not be riding 'im this time as my war 'orse would be jealous if I did not use 'im in this tournament!"

Glancing at the departing figure of Gaetan he shouts.

"Gaaeeton!! You dirtee man, make sure you don't break the bed!!"

Hugues smiles

The women I could tolerate, but drinking ale, that is too much to ask.

Hugues leans in a bit.

It seems the Order of the Fleur de Lys is popular, particularly among us Ducs. They will never be at a loss for patrons. Still, I hope that the Order remains free of too much Ducal. . .inteference. Each of us has our own domains to run. I think the Order should be guided by the landless young Knights who make up most of its membership.

What is your view Duc Alain?

Dropping his voice a little.

I was a little surprised by the Order's formation. To be honest, when two of four Duc's joined I studied the charter a little more closely.

Perhaps, we need to come to some agreement between ourselves or we risk impeding it's effectiveness.

He leans back and shouts.

Another round for everyone, and especially the Princes table!! We can 'ave the Duap'iin paying for anyt'ing, that's just not sporting.

He gives the Duc a wink.

Christophe de Perronne had been sitting, silent and unnoticed, in a darkened corner of the tavern. At the mention of the Order of the Fleur de Lys, he spat on the floor.

Can what I hear be true? Have half the men in the realm sworn an oath never to attack an unarmed opponent? HAH! This tournament shall be easier than I imagined. I shall simply batter them all to a pulp with my bare hands. We shall see whether they truly believe in this 'oath' they have sworn.

Gaeten returns to the main room in time to here Christophe de Perronne speak of the Fleur de Lys, and he grins sardonically.

"I'd be wary dear Perronne of speaking of fighting without sword, for with your serpents tongue, you surely are not unarmed - careful that they do not attempt to cut it from you to end the fight quickly and save you proving your 'maniless'."

Christophe grins widely.

You surprise me, Gaeten, I did not expect a member of the Order to reveal their false nature so easily. You threaten to use a sword against a man who fights ony with his fists. Surely that violates the fourth tenet of your oath? Or is it instead that you were simply lying about what you were planning on doing, and thus merely violating the fifth tenet of your oath?

Hugues chuckles.

I never thought about it that way, young Sir. . .uh. . .sir.

You're fighting in the Tourney? With such a devious mind as yours, perhaps you should consider the Law.

Gaetan's face spread wide in mock hurt and shock.

"Why on earth would I hurt you? Did I say that? No, for I know a truly unarmed man when I see him - others however, will not be so careful as the Fluer de Lys."

"And if you wish, I'll use my fists as well during the tournament - that way if I met you early on, I won't break any of part of my oath. Is this agreed?"

A young man entered the tavern. According to the servant girl who had prepared his room, this was the place to be for a young nobleman. He smiled at the memory of the girl. She had been an easy prey for his handsome features.

He heard what the man they called Christophe de Perronne said and he nodded silently in agreement. While he was looking around, he saw the two Dukes and their excellent female companionship.

Contrary to his father's beliefs, he was no fool, so he walked towards the table of these mighty men. He respectfully nodded towards both.

Hugues glances up at the new arrival.

Another Chevalier hungry to prove himself in the Tourney, if I don't miss my guess. Pull up a chair and have some wine, Sir. . .?

Christophe raises an eyebrow.

Ah, Gaetan, now you do make sense! You are saying that for the purposes of 'honor' some men without weapons are to be considered armed based on nothing more than your own personal feelings, regardless of what your 'oaths' may say. I think I understand the Order much better now! Tell me, where are the offices located, for I would like to join this wise group!

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by OverKnight

Hugues glances up at the new arrival.

Another Chevalier hungry to prove himself in the Tourney, if I don't miss my guess. Pull up a chair and have some wine, Sir. . .?

---

Thierry de Rochefort is my name, seigneur.

He accepted the goblet of wine and raised it.

"À la votre, seigneurs."

He sipped from the wine and looked at the lovely girl on the knee of Duke Alain.

"It seems like your mighty sword has already found a scabbard for the night, seigneur," he said, a grin on his face.

Tilting his head slightly the young Duke looks concerned.

I do not kiss and tell seigneur de Rocefort. That is one of my rules.

Slapping the girl on hip he pushes her off and leans back on the bench.

Are you T'ierry de Roc'efort by any c'ance?

Thierry watched how the Duke sent the girl away.

He shrugged, clearly not understanding why the Duke would care about rumours involving a peasant girl.

"Yes, I'm Thierry de Rochefort. I believe my father has sent you a letter?"

You believe correctly.

Do you have anything to say?

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by AussieGiant

You believe correctly.

Do you have anything to say?

---

I don't know the content of that letter, but maybe that's something that should be discussed in private?

Thierry grinned again.

It certainly warrants more discretion than what a noble man does or does not with some peasant girl...

Yes that's probably best. I would not want a brawl erupting 'ere about your conduct.

What I am prepared to say 'ere is that your father asked me to 'ave you serve in my Duchy.

My first t'ought now that I've met you, is if that is also your wish.

What say you de Roc'efort?

Thierry looked at the Duc sitting in front of him.

"My father sent me away for the most silly reasons one could imagine. Sheer idiocy, if you ask me."

Thierry shrugged.

"But I can see the merit in having powerful friends such as you."

Thierry looked around him.

"But there are other powerful men, here."

Thierry stared right into Duke de Rohan's eyes.

"Tell me, Duke, do you care as much about peasants as my father or are you a man who knows how to rule? Would your, for instance, hang all peasants who would dare to challenge your authority or would you show them mercy?"

The crack of his neck indcates a subtle shift in manner. The friendly and humorous blue eyes become icy. His voice takes on an all together different tone.

"If you are asking if I would do what your father described in his letter to me, then the answer is no.

And if you think I'm the powerful friend 'you' think can be useful then you are are sadly mistaken as to what word 'service' means.

I know how to rule and I know when to exert force and when show restraint as the 'case' may warrant.

Peasants are not that 'case'."

His tone reverts.

"So de Roc'efort, perhaps you should try and rodger Madoc over t'ere. I'm very sure he will try to bite your bollocks off, that mig't geve you a more interesting c'allange."

The chest high pink poodle stands at the mention of his name. He looks more than happy to lick a face or walk through a wall, depending on what the Duke wishes.

de Rochefort's latest question draws Christophe de Perronne's attention. He listens quietly but intently, curious to hear the Duke of Bretagne's answer.

[edit]OOC: slow on the draw, pretend that happened before the response.

Prince Louis watches the antics at the bar with an ever growing smile. Eventually, after a suitable pause for the more modest looking of the girls the Duke of Bretagne has brought settle out, Louis says something quietly to the thin looking chap who ordered his wine. Immediately the man stands and moves through the crowd, selecting girls of a certain type to bring back to the Prince's table. Four women, all on the tall side with long, dark hair are picked and sent scurrying over to the wide oval by the back door.

Then the assistant pauses to scan the room, eyes finally settling on the youngest of the tavern girls, a nervous looking fresh faced thing who has turned her back to the wall and is watching the proceedings with wide eyes. Rather than approach her, however, he returns to the Prince's side where the fourteen year old page has been standing behind Louis' chair at a position of something like attention. As Louis twists around to wordlessly place something in the boy's palm the thin man whispers in his ear, and then pushes him in the direction of the waif by the wall.

The Prince, with two fetching young girls taking their places on his lap, watches the young boy intently as he hesitantly crosses the room. When one of the girls leans down to whisper in Louis' ear, however, he abruptly spills her from her seat right onto the floor, and roars,

"Duke Alain! These two wenches only speak German! Did you bring spies into my tavern?"

There is an instant's pause across the whole place, but before anyone can speak the Prince continues,

"Bloody good choice if so, I wager I'll be sending their Emperor a few missives by way of these spies' secret pouches tonight!"

Laughing uproariously at his own joke the Prince picks the girl up off the floor and dusts her off rather aggressively, from head to toe.

"By the by lads, there'll be no fighting in the tavern tonight. Take it outside or you'll find yourself facing more than even your liquid courage can equal."

:egypt: