I am at Your Will

The King was seated on his upper-class stool. A marvellous thing it was with wrought iron legs capped with the gold of from far, far away. What else for a cushion but silk, fine silk from the east?

An array of talent was laid out before him, kneeling on the unkempt earth of the kings’ quarters.

Rob Roy MacGregor, the Scottish Robin Hood. An outlaw.

The Bruces, Most notably Robert I of Scotland.King of the Scots

William Wallace. The Great Knight who defeated the English at Stirling.

Kjar Bloodhammer, the former Viking who, during one particular merciless raid on an English town, was too involved with the fruits of his plunder and missed the ship back to Norway. He decided to take up residence in Scotland, passing his unique knowledge of killing and hit-and-run warfare onto the Scottish generals.


Gordon Ramsey, TV personality, hot head, chef finance expert and ex footballer, a man of priceless talent.

“I am glad that you all saw fit to pick up a job application form from the reception desk. I rather liked the look of you four.” He notions to MacGregor, Bruce, Wallace and Kjar. “And as for you Ramsey, well you know that businesses need so many of this, so many of that. You got in by default. Now. To business. All I need from you in the next few days is a short explanation as to what position you would like and why I should give it to you. Now the military advisors will be hotly contested, subterfuge maybe not. As for administration, many more candidates should be arriving in the next few days. That concludes the short meeting for today, we meet in 30 hours time."

Kjar Bloodhammer:

Now, wait just a minute here. You are telling me that there are a certain number of advisor positions available, and, while I thank you for inviting me to be a part of your staff, there is the chance that I might get the position of subterfuge advisor?

Do you know how pathetic this would be? For my reputation? For my honor? I am a Viking! Vikings do not sneak. We announce our presence loudly, and then we come in and start killing everything! This strategy has worked for my people for centuries. I do not see why it would not work for you.

I hereby apply for the position of military advisor. These soldiers need to man up. They need to be afraid of nothing. They need not just the righteous bursts of energy when defending their homeland, but also the bloodlust and bezerk frenzy whenever they come across the enemy. I can instill that in them!

As for my ideas, I have good ones. I think that England should be dealt with. See, that's my idea. Anyone who says the same thing is stealing my idea, and if they deny it, well then, we're going to have to settle this in a Holmgang. And with all due respect to William Wallace, who has killed a lot of English over the years and is a mighty warrior, I'll win! I'm a Viking, for Odin's sake!

In short, make me, Kjar Bloodhammer, your military advisor. I'll tell you what cities to take, when to take them, and how much to take from them.

HAHA!

*In dances Philbert McGillicutty, the Scottish Court Jester.*

These men are but fools, only I know the wisdom of the sages! Ages? Pages? Wages? Wages! Let's get some money in this place. Treasure bath! Do we have treasure? No? Why not? Let's get us some treasure for the sages wages!

*Philbert notices that the Court remains silent and that all are staring at him.*

Oh, erm... was this a job interview? I am a job! Have a job? The job has me! I am the Court Jester, speaker of speaks, teller of truths, refuter of refutations! All others will pander to your monumental royal arse, but only I shall tell you just how truly fat you are. Like a whale! HAHA! King McNoname the Gargantuan!

Yes, yes. I am the Court Jester, for no one else has the brain (grain?) for the job.

*Philbert stands on his head and farts.*

Let's invade Portugal!

Bon Jour, mon Roi,

I am Bernard de Clairveaux, come recently from France. I believe these Norman upstarts are getting too arrogant for words. I could, perhaps be your eyes in the wider world and give you the benefit of up to date reports on the diplomatic climate, and represent your interests in the court of the Holy Father at Rome. I'm also well known among the Holy adventures of the Outremer, perhaps some of them could make their way here, and give aid against these "English" scum, oui?

M'lord I'll be pleased to serve in any capacity, 'course, but perhaps I could oversee economic matters for you? I'm accounted a fair hand with a florin, and never you mind those blighters blathering on about how I came by these skills. I'd sure be happy to watch your spies or soldiers as well, but if you need a little insulation between your own noble self and those black handed merchants I'm just your man.

As to what should be done, well, s'come to my attention that those fools at York have raised the rebel flag against England. If we move quickly we can sack that town to fund a possible further expedition to the south and force the remaining peasants to pay for our protection against England's wrath.

I'd say leave the Irish stewing for the time, they're always fightin' amongst themselves anyway, t'would be better next to take on the Welsh. If we should sack Caernarvon all their petty fiefs will bend knee, 'tis the way of them.

Meanwhile our fleet's undoubtedly superior to the English, so why not sail 'em round towards London. Give them ol' Angles seven different directions to look, so while we're showin' 'em the left for a bit we can feed 'em the right in a few years. Be a rich business shutting London's port anyway... say, maybe I could head that expedition, if you've no experienced sailors. Done a bit of everything in my day, y'know?

S'no a bad idea to get some sort of friendship on with the French s'well, just don't rely on them too much come the pinch.

Leaning close Rob Roy wafts a scent of stale bread and cheap wine in the King's direction as he lowers his voice and nods his head sideways at the jester.

By the by, m'lord, I'd take it as a personal favor were you to set that bloody piker out on his ear, if ye take my meanin'. Right gives me the willies with all that dancin' about acting the fool.

MacGregor shoots a distrustful look at the jester, though to a careful observer it's clearly edged with fear.

:egypt:

**** me, the people they let into these chambers, means more cooking for me, poor ****ing sod

Quote:

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Originally Posted by Elite Ferret

**** me, the people they let into these chambers, means more cooking for me, poor ****ing sod

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Oui, oui indeed Monsieur Ramsey,

I shall look forward to some civilized food indeed. I have brought some good Pinot Noir from Burgundy for your enjoyment, perhaps a little something that complements it may be appropriate, non?

But seriously now, Mon Roi, I shall inform you that the King of France would most likely receive an envoy of your court favorably, perhaps be convinced that friendship is appropriate. So far from what I've seen, your Nobles and people are much more civilized than these jumped up halfbreed vikings that call themselves the English. I know for certainment that the King of France feels no friendship toward these English thieves. Perhaps a marriage could be arranged, non?

I must, however inform you that I have no official capacity among the French court, I am merely traveling about on God's work. With that said, however, I do think that ridding the world of these English IS God's work, so I shall do all I can to aid in that Holy endeavour.

Kjar Bloodhammer:

Sack? Did I here the word sack?

*Kjar bounds over to MacGreagor and engulfs him in a bear hug.*

NOW THIS MAN HAS HIS PRIORITIES STRAIGHT!!!

As a matter of fact, you've managed to deduce my entire strategy! When we take a city... we sack it!

Or... we could even load men up on the ships, sail 'em over to London, blockade the port, and sack the city! Treasure all around! Loot! Riches! Women! Why are we still discussing this matter?!

Philbert McGillicutty:

Sack! Attack! Big Mac(Gregor)!

Fool be I, oh yes, you see. These men, they are, so smart, says me. English currs, our enemy for certain. French fops, our friends who like curtains. An alliance with one, a war with t'other. Which is which? A witch is your mother!

Yet only fools and berserkers to war without fear. Prudent Kings should think with their rear. Large armies are needed lest defeat you will risk, and armies need gold, or so I am told. What they do with this ore is beyond such as me, though I hear they need it regularly. Perhaps constipation is a problem, and one I know for certain your majesty is familiar with.

Beware my Fat Bottomed King! Secure further lands whose people you can tax, before you head south to London for snacks! There are rebels to north, south and west, though I have heard that York in particular has lovely plum pudding. Take such a place, and castle as well. To your north stands a nice one, and the Welsh place does smell. Use these lands to increase your worth to a size that can challenge your incredible girth. Perhaps when that's done, ready you'll be, to march on the English in whose pot you can pee.

Kjar Bloodhammer:

PAH!

We're not looking for people to tax, we're looking for people to kill! And they lie to the south!

Oui, our Viking friend is correct, the people to your south must definitely be killed, it would be a shame they make piss in the wine, non? And they will if you let them live, like dogs, they can no more know civilized behavior than stop humping the kitchen help in the leg.

The Great King sat on his throne, chin in hand, deep in thought. He was only a few feet from his new advisors but it could have been the other side of the world. Kjar was getting more and more animated, the Jester was poncing around, he will have to go. But not yet. Who is that, a French spy? So many questions, so little answers.

Hmm, I see true sense in an unlikely character. An outlaw of all people. Why does advice like that not come from a Knight or Lord?

I is too early to make a decision, let them put forth to me their arguments, let them agree, let the disagree. This will show me their true characters. Afterall, I do not need to prove myself to nobody.

Through out this spell the King let out no emotion, no decisive flicker on his face, you would think you were merely admiring a statue. This was observed by Wallace who was seated in shadow by the fire. Hood engulfing his head like Aragorn. A great leader who has great talent it seems.

Wallace stands from his seat in the corner

I am but one man who has one wish. A wish to see this land united under a Scottish king. I think we should first go north and south to Iverness and York and take these lands. York should be our first goal, so that we can beat the English there. I believe we must unite the predominately Scottish lands before we even begin to think of war with England.

Wallace returns to his corner of the room to await a reply.

The Wallace, and I, it seems, do agree. Does that make a fool out of him, or a hero out of me?

I have my giant spider with me, so let us go to war against the English!

I feel that this could become a little boring for my advisors, what do you think to a succession game?

About half of us are busy with KotR. I know I wouldn't be able to participate if the commitment level is any higher. As long as you give us scenarios, it won't be boring. :yes:

"All Rise"

The Kings advisors rise from their seats and the King enters. The King sits.

"Be seated"

They sit. The King procceeds.

"My Lords, we have three advisable positions, military, agents and logistics. All roles are connected. They will be the key to bettering our foes. The agents will aquire feedback for the military advisor who in turn will consult the logistical advisor and work out a solution. Therefore I will begin by nominating an agent advisor.



ctrl F for IamatYourWill This is my save

(sorry about that can a mod merge these posts please)

..The agent advisors will deal with diplomacy, spying and assassins. I have chosen Rob Roy MacGreagor as my chief agent advisor with Bernard de Clairveaux as his second Philbert McGillicutty, Jester as third. This is a highly important category and my reasoning is that Rob Roy should have an area of expertise in being a spymaster, Bernard a master diplomat and the Jester as an able character to worm his way into many a royal palace and perform deeds. Of course it is up to you three to confer as to your sub roles.

The military advisors need to be on top of our current needs and know when to strike and how. Their decisions will be critical to our success. Who else than William Wallace and Kjar Bloodhammer to have co-command.

This leaves able candidates such as The Bruces and (Chef) Gordon Ramsey to provide for our needs, being construction or finance. I hope you do not fail in your duty."

The King nods his head and departs leaving the advisors to themselves.

Quite right m'lord, pleasure to serve! Ahh, about that third though... Are ye quite sure the, ahem, fool is going to be necessary?

Not that I'd contradict yer own wisdom, 'course, but that chap capers about like a madman, and I'd no want to trust 'em too much.

Rob Roy eyes the fool uneasily.

Which is jest to say, I'm no sure he's all there, and what's there don't make a bit o' sense to me.

Anyway, s'far as my thoughts on our agents, slip the diplomat aboard ship and send 'em south to the mainland. We'll be wantin' to get establish with His Holiness at first chance, and p'raps a bit of diploming with the fro...

Rob trails off into a faint 'gggs' sound before glancing at his second.

...that is to say, Frenchmen along the way, and whomever else 'e should come across. As fer the spy (OOC: Scotland starts with a spy, right? Can't check the save at the moment.), he ain't much needed at York and there's no hurry at Inverness so I'd fain send 'em for Caernarvon. 'ave a look at what the Welshmen are keepin' about there, maybe even see iff'n he can make a friend.

:egypt:

I'm intrested in this. How do I join?

To join, declare your character (a famous Scot of some kind). :thumbsup: