Five minutes of awkward silence later the small group arrived in front of a large manor that was obviously built to impress others with its bright and smooth walls that were paced with carved marble columns. The guards in front of the manor's gate stopped them for a moment but after exchanging a few quiet words with the servant girl they led them through without any problems. When they reached the entrance door a similar event occurred and once the large door was opened, the young woman around to face them.
“I shall take my leave, your lordship. Mister Thatcher will lead you to Lord Merv.”
“Thank you, Miss Annette.” Regis said with a soft tone, earning a slight blush from the surprised girl who practically rushed away.
“She didn’t seem to have expected being thanked for her effort.” Quentin noted as he watched the girl hurry away.
“There’s no surprise there,” Tristan added. “Most high-born wouldn’t spare a single kind word for people of her standing. If anything, she would count herself lucky if she managed to lead someone here without them getting handsy on the way.”
“Good morning to you, sirs!” They heard from the side as a well-dressed man with greying hair stepped beside them. “My name is Edwin Thatcher, the head butler of the Merv household. How may I address you?”
“Good morning,” Tristan took the lead as was his job in such situations. “This is Lord Regis Thorne of Thornvale and his knight commander, Sir Quentin Bailey.”
“Welcome to the Merv family’s manor, Lord Thorne, Sir Bailey.” Edwin bowed slightly before turning around to walk away. “Please, follow me. Since the assembly will start at noon, only a few other lords have arrived so far.”
They were led through several corridors of the large manor as Tristan chatted with the butler, ending up in front of a carved wooden door that had gold and silver inlays decorating it. The guards in front of the door stepped aside after noticing the butler, opening the door in the process. As Edwin entered, he spoke up loudly.
“May I present to you Lord Regis Thorne of Thornvale, his knight commander, Sir Quentin Bailey and his steward, Tristan Castel.”
Regis entered first of the three, followed by Quentin and Tristan in accordance with the way they were introduced.
They’ve found themselves in a large and lavishly decorated dining hall that seemed to have been repurposed for the assembly it was housing today. The dark elf noticed five men in expensive attires, five more in shiny armour along with two women and three men in garments of various colours and designs whom he believed to be the stewards of the five lords.
“Welcome to White-spire,” a greying-haired man with a short beard greeted him. “Andrew Merv, lord of White-spire and the host of this year's assembly.”
“It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Lord Merv.”
The sound of someone scoffing broke the amicable greeting as both men turned toward the source of the noise.
“I don’t see the point of being so courteous with him,” a round-bellied man with balding red mop hair remarked while sipping a glass of wine. “These first-generation upstart nobles aren’t worth the effort.”
“Seventeenth generation actually”, Regis corrected the man. “That is if we count the generations that ruled my home world. Although even if we only think of me as a first-generation noble, at least I have the proper manners to go with it.”
“Unlike a certain someone,” another, somewhat younger noble remarked with an obvious glee. “I am curious though. I’ve never heard of Thornvale, so I highly doubt it’s an important piece of territory. How much did it cost you to get the territory and to be entitled?”
“Coin wise, nothing.”
“Nothing?” Yet another nobleman asked, baffled by his words.
“Right of conquest.” The spell weaver explained with a bland expression, to the surprise of the other nobles.
“That would explain your heavily enchanted armour,” the last and youngest noble said as he circled around Regis with an intrigued expression. “It’s not a small feat to kit out one’s self and their knight commander in armour that bears several ‘excellent’ grade enchantments. I’m Perry, by the way, Perry Lansford.”
“Nice to meet you, Lord Lansford.”
“There’s no need to act so formal,” the man shook his head slightly. “You don’t seem much younger than me. Let the old foxes hold the formal titles while we act like people our age tend to do. Oh, I see you’ve brought along some guest gifts. Nice.”
“Perry,” the balding mop-haired man cleared his throat. “This might be your first attendance at the assembly, but try not to embarrass your father too much.”
“I highly doubt that my father would consider being friendly to another noble as something embarrassing. Especially if said nobleman is an accomplished outlander such as Lord Regis. And besides, I think...”
“May I present you Lady Zola Vidal of the Vidal territories and her mage advisor, Sir Galen Horst and her steward, Sir Desimir Armstrong?” They’ve heard Edvin introduce the next guest.
“Oh my,” Perry hummed with a smile. “What a lovely sight so early in the morning.”
“Welcome to White-spire, Lady Vidal.” Lord Andrew greeted the young woman as the host should.
She was greeted by the rest of the nobles present in the room, Perry taking far too long to let go of her hand after kissing it as a knightly gesture.
“Lord Regis,” Zola’s eyes lit up as she noticed him behind Perry and Andrew. “I’m glad to see you’re already here.”
“And I’m also glad to see a familiar face, Lady Zola.”
“Lord Regis.” Galen nodded before clasping hands in a friendly manner.
“I take it you know each other.” Lord Andrew remarked as he watched the events unfold.
“Lady Zola is my closest neighbour, so to speak. Her territory lays only a few days away from mine, so we got to know each other soon after my ascendency.”
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“I see. That explains things.”
“And also gives credit to the rumours.” The red mop-haired man harrumphed.
“Rumours?” Regis and Zola asked at the same time.
“Come now, Humphrey,” Lord Andrew sighed. “There’s no need to sour the assembly so soon. And besides, rumours are just that. Rumours.”
“If you’re referring to the scandalous tales of the young lady’s rise to the head position of her family,” the man with the chestnut-coloured curly hair chattered. “I must admit, those rumours spread around these past weeks like wildfire.”
“What rumours?” Zola asked with a tone that was a lot colder than before.
“Nothing much really,” the man whom Regis earlier learned was called Boram chuckled. “Only that your father found out about your secret love affair with some elven mercenary and that old Arley got killed when he caught you two in the act.”
“Woah,” Regis whistled while watching Zola’s gaze turned murderous. “I don’t know whether I should be shocked or appalled. I mean, if Letty hears this, she’ll wrangle my neck for sure.”
“Letty?” The man asked confused.
“My fiance,” the dark elf noted, lying through his teeth. “It might shock you, Lord Boram, but I’m already spoken for and I’m a firm believer of monogamy. While I indeed had some issues with Lord Vidal, it was regarding my territory’s matters and not Lady Zola.”
“Interesting,” the mop-haired old man clicked his tongue. “You claim you have no true relation to the young Vidal lass, yet you seem awfully familiar with her.”
“If you’re looking for gossip,” Regis exhaled with a droning sound. “Then you barking at the wrong tree, Lord Humphrey. I met her during an unfortunate event in which she was dragged along by a bunch of ruffians with her hands tied. My companions and I dealt with said ruffians, freed her and escorted her back to her family’s territory. Later when her father passed, she needed allies and as her nearest neighbour, brokering an alliance was obviously beneficial for both territories. That’s about it. Not very gossip-worthy, but it is still something.”
“Hmph!” The man harrumphed after listening to the veiled berating along with the rest of the nobles present.
Since none of them were there and only had second-hand rumours to go on, it was obvious that as long as both Zola and Regis stood firm with this tale, they had to accept it.
“Alright,” Lord Andrew sighed as he tried to defuse the situation. “There’s no need to work ourselves up over such paltry rumours. We all know how these things go. People love to gossip, especially if they can turn it to their advantage when it comes to the expansion of their borders.”
“My territory lays far away from hers.” Humphrey defended himself.
“That’s exactly why you shouldn’t involve yourself with such matters. The others might think that you’re trying so hard to support someone else and I’m sure you wouldn’t want that. Especially in times like these when we need to stand together.”
“He’s right,” Perry nodded fervently. “How about we…”
“May I present Lord Ashford…”
“Damn,” Perry grumbled. “I swear that butler is doing it on purpose.”
“Come now,” Regis tried to hold back a chuckle as he thought about this being the second time Perry got interrupted by butler Edwin. “It’s not his fault that the guests keep coming at the wrong time. And besides, shouldn’t you try to greet them too?”
“You’re right,” Perry sighed. “I want to try to make a good impression for the sake of my father’s reputation.”Saying that, the lordling left to greet the new arrival while Quentin stepped closer to Regis.
“I didn’t expect things to go sour so fast, but at least you kept your cool.”
“What was I supposed to do? As you once said, I can’t kill my way through every problem.” The loremaster whispered.
“Glad to hear at least some of my wisdom rubbed on you.”
“Don’t get too happy just yet. After all, the assembly hasn’t even started yet.”
“At least they serve drinks. Want one?” The paladin sighed as he turned toward a servant girl not far from them who stood beside the local equivalent of a bar counter.
“No thanks. I’ll need all my wits with a bunch of snakes gathering around.”
And the snakes indeed gathered. In the following hours nearly two dozen more lords and ladies had arrived, chatting lively amongst themselves while waiting for the assembly to start. It became clear early on that the ‘old’ nobility of Ecragurne was adamant about keeping away from the Outlander upstarts like Regis. There were seven other outlanders like him there, five men and two women.
From the few words he exchanged with them, the dark elf found out that he wasn’t the only one who had to go through several battlefields to earn a chance at claiming a proper piece of land for himself. Most of his fellow outlanders were warriors with either melee or ranged class pathways, but one of the men turned out to be a preacher and one of the women was supposedly a summoner of some sort. While these people were friendlier than the local nobles, everyone tried to keep an obvious distance from each other.
“It seems that even your fellow outlanders are wary of the possible undercurrents this day could entail,” Tristan said quietly as they watched the people chat and drink while showing a perfect poker face. “I’m afraid it will be hard to find allies if things continue like this.”
“It’s fine if we can’t find allies,” Quentin sighed. “As long as we don’t find enemies either.”
“Easier said than done,” Regis remarked as he took a quick glance around the crowded room, noticing several people looking his way from time to time. “I can practically feel a dozen people’s eyes on me, along with their greed and killing intent. We haven’t even met yet and they’re already plotting against me.”
“Don’t take that personally, sir,” Tristan replied with a sombre tone while flashing a fake smile to a greying-haired man who looked their way. “This is simply the way things work here. These people don’t know your intentions yet, only that you’re an outlander and a possible source of trouble. I imagine the lords and ladies living the closest to Thornvale have already begun to form alliances in case you decide to become troublesome for them.”
“What do you think the chances are that they would try to pull the same shit Vidal did?”
“It would all depend on what they would stand the gain from it,” the steward stated grimly. “When my family still served house Kreuwell, we lived in relative peace with no in-fighting due to the surrounding nobles having roughly the same amount of land and none of them had anything the others could yearn for.”
“I feel a but coming.”
“With Thornvale, it is different. They are just as likely to ignore your territory for being so out of the way, as they would try to conquer it for the exact same reason. Almost every noble here has dabbled in deals that are less than legal. As such, a place like Thornvale would be a perfect location to house these endeavours.”
“Good to know. If anything... oh fuck me.” The dark elf cursed as he looked towards the newly opened door where butler Edwin was ushering in the newest arrivals.
“May I introduce Lady Natalie Argent and her knight commander, Etienne Argent.”
“That...”
“Don’t do anything stupid, Quentin.” The loremaster whispered as he looked at his left side where the paladin was ready to stand up and draw his blade.
“But they’re...”
“They seem to have been invited like us. If you start a fight here, that would cause a lot of trouble for us later on.”
“I... fuck. I hate it when you’re the one making sense.”
“Argent,” Tristan hummed to himself. “I feel like I’ve heard that name before.”
“They’re the dark elf family we told you about.”
“You mean the...”
“Yeah.” Regis nodded grimly as he watched Lord Andrew greet the new arrivals with the same words he did to pretty much everyone.