*The Verge of War* A Medieval Rp

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MadamPoofyBrow said:
Cliffton limped to the infirmary(?) to complain about his leg to a professional.
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(Sure! Jephry is very available :-D)
Jephry picked what he was fairly confident was an apple, and took a large bite out of it.
He decided to go to the barracks to get a banana out if his backpack.
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Jane hurried inside, sure that the queen would be in a rage.
Edwin checked his surroundings, then entered through a back door to the servant's quarters. (Crazychick)
 
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(Oh, okay. Alnwick is I'm England and Edinburgh is in Scotland, so I thought that's why the prince and princess were to marry; to make peace between the two countries, not just the families. But it's better I guess if it's in a made up world, more things you can do with that. :D)
 
Cliffton was diagnosed with a scraped knee, and made no small production of hobbling to his bedroom, flopping down on his bed, and ordering a servant to make his wounded royal majesty a sandwich.
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Gavin but into another unpaid for Apple.
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Adrienne suddenly realized she had been conversing with Gwen (Crazychick, where did we leave this?)
 
MadamPoofyBrow said:
Cliffton was diagnosed with a scraped knee, and made no small production of hobbling to his bedroom, flopping down on his bed, and ordering a servant to make his wounded royal majesty a sandwich.
---
Gavin but into another unpaid for Apple.
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Adrienne suddenly realized she had been conversing with Gwen (Crazychick, where did we leave this?)
Click to expand...


Gwen rubbed her eyes. "What did you want to talk about?"
 
Alfric leans against the door; one hand holding up his towel and the other pressed against his forehead. The pounding in his head is getting worse. He squints and looks around the room, it's dark and fuzzy. Faded blue light shines in through the window, illuminating the small room just enough for Alfric to see where he's going. It must still be daytime or the fire would be lit. He rushes to the fireplace and drops down onto his knees. Now that he's stopped moving, the cold has begun seeping into him. He pulls out his sword and throws it on the ground, dropping the towel down next to it on the hearth. His breath is more controlled now; ragged and shallow. The wind howls down the chimney as Alfric struggles to light a fire. He holds the flint out in front of him and scrapes it against the steel. Small sparks crackle along the edge, quickly disappearing into the darkness. "C'mon.." He whispers, through gritted teeth.
 
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