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The House of Dimitrou's sigil comes from the rumour and story that, once upon a time, a young stable boy took up a bow for the first time and shot down a ten pointed stag with a golden coat, with a single bolted arrow. The king of Taengea had never seen such natural skill with the weapon and so dubbed him the forebear of a House of Nobility; the House of Dimitrou. The grandfather of Lord Gavriil loved this tale so much that he would listen to it over and over as a boy. And as a man, he held an annual celebration in honour of his long dead forefather - hosting a Great Hunt in Chaoedia. The tradition has been continued ever since... So come one and all (so long as you're male) and come to partake in the bonding experience that is hunting. In honour of the once lower born Dimitrou that took down that stag so many generations ago, nobles and non-nobles alike are permitted to partake. Just make sure you have a horse, as the livestock is not provided...
The men will first gather in order to form their party. The animals will be marked to ensure they are not lost or confused between hunters (a dash of paint on their hides) and the arrows of each hunter are given a particular coloured ribbon. The riders head out and make their hunt in the forests of Chaoedia. The hunters - both successful or not - come back to the manor of Lord Gavriil in order to feast on their bounty and drink into the night.
JD
Staff Team
JD
Staff Team
This post was created by our staff team.
Please contact us with your queries and questions.
The House of Dimitrou's sigil comes from the rumour and story that, once upon a time, a young stable boy took up a bow for the first time and shot down a ten pointed stag with a golden coat, with a single bolted arrow. The king of Taengea had never seen such natural skill with the weapon and so dubbed him the forebear of a House of Nobility; the House of Dimitrou. The grandfather of Lord Gavriil loved this tale so much that he would listen to it over and over as a boy. And as a man, he held an annual celebration in honour of his long dead forefather - hosting a Great Hunt in Chaoedia. The tradition has been continued ever since... So come one and all (so long as you're male) and come to partake in the bonding experience that is hunting. In honour of the once lower born Dimitrou that took down that stag so many generations ago, nobles and non-nobles alike are permitted to partake. Just make sure you have a horse, as the livestock is not provided...
The men will first gather in order to form their party. The animals will be marked to ensure they are not lost or confused between hunters (a dash of paint on their hides) and the arrows of each hunter are given a particular coloured ribbon. The riders head out and make their hunt in the forests of Chaoedia. The hunters - both successful or not - come back to the manor of Lord Gavriil in order to feast on their bounty and drink into the night.
The Hunt Event - Taengea
The House of Dimitrou's sigil comes from the rumour and story that, once upon a time, a young stable boy took up a bow for the first time and shot down a ten pointed stag with a golden coat, with a single bolted arrow. The king of Taengea had never seen such natural skill with the weapon and so dubbed him the forebear of a House of Nobility; the House of Dimitrou. The grandfather of Lord Gavriil loved this tale so much that he would listen to it over and over as a boy. And as a man, he held an annual celebration in honour of his long dead forefather - hosting a Great Hunt in Chaoedia. The tradition has been continued ever since... So come one and all (so long as you're male) and come to partake in the bonding experience that is hunting. In honour of the once lower born Dimitrou that took down that stag so many generations ago, nobles and non-nobles alike are permitted to partake. Just make sure you have a horse, as the livestock is not provided...
The men will first gather in order to form their party. The animals will be marked to ensure they are not lost or confused between hunters (a dash of paint on their hides) and the arrows of each hunter are given a particular coloured ribbon. The riders head out and make their hunt in the forests of Chaoedia. The hunters - both successful or not - come back to the manor of Lord Gavriil in order to feast on their bounty and drink into the night.
At an early age, Georgios had occupied his time with perfecting the art of hunt from a steed. It was the perfect marriage between the horses he loved so much and a hobby that allowed him to enjoy the great outdoors. The middle Leventi brother frequently snuck from the house to hide from tutors, but at least he could distract his parents' ire with the impressive animals he brought home for dinner.
"We will win it this year, Kallos." His hand pat against the coarse hair of his favorite horse. The two of them were aging, but he was confident they would be able to win it all. The only downfall to the days like this was the fact that he didn't have any sons to share it with. This would be delightful to share with any one of his daughters, the ones that were interested in riding and hunting. But, it was for men only. That had been made clear.
Georgios had been talking about the hunt all week and encouraged that his daughters should at least come to watch their old man attempt to keep up with the rest of the competitors. He assumed in only a few years they would be required to root for their husbands. He lamented such a travesty many times sulking through the house reminding them that this could be the last time they come with him. To the older girls, of course. However, he did not require or force any of them to attend an event. Georgios rarely forced anything upon anyone unless he absolutely had to.
Late summer was an incredible time to be in the woods of Taengea. Actually, Georgios felt that Taengea was the most beautiful place in the Realm no matter the season. For today, he was happy to close his eyes for a moment on the trail to revel in the sun warming his skin. Words didn't even have to be spoken with the servants and family that followed along. Just pure enjoyment. "Isn't it a great day?" Anyone around him was welcome to answer, or maybe no one. It could have just as easily been rhetorical.
Men of all ranks and ages were already gathering by the time Georgios and his party had come to the meeting place. He slid from his horse with little regard to tie the stallion up. There was no need. Kallos would follow him to the end of time and do little to disrupt the world around them. The nose of the horse nudging the shoulder of the man before Georgios dug into a saddlebag to offer a treat for the journey.
"Georgios of Leventi." He declared proudly as though the people who were standing there were unaware who he was. They all knew. Everyone knew. Georgios could rarely go anywhere without the people all around knowing at least of him. But, he still enjoyed introducing himself just like he had last year waiting for the color he would be assigned for the party.
JD
Staff Team
JD
Staff Team
This post was created by our staff team.
Please contact us with your queries and questions.
At an early age, Georgios had occupied his time with perfecting the art of hunt from a steed. It was the perfect marriage between the horses he loved so much and a hobby that allowed him to enjoy the great outdoors. The middle Leventi brother frequently snuck from the house to hide from tutors, but at least he could distract his parents' ire with the impressive animals he brought home for dinner.
"We will win it this year, Kallos." His hand pat against the coarse hair of his favorite horse. The two of them were aging, but he was confident they would be able to win it all. The only downfall to the days like this was the fact that he didn't have any sons to share it with. This would be delightful to share with any one of his daughters, the ones that were interested in riding and hunting. But, it was for men only. That had been made clear.
Georgios had been talking about the hunt all week and encouraged that his daughters should at least come to watch their old man attempt to keep up with the rest of the competitors. He assumed in only a few years they would be required to root for their husbands. He lamented such a travesty many times sulking through the house reminding them that this could be the last time they come with him. To the older girls, of course. However, he did not require or force any of them to attend an event. Georgios rarely forced anything upon anyone unless he absolutely had to.
Late summer was an incredible time to be in the woods of Taengea. Actually, Georgios felt that Taengea was the most beautiful place in the Realm no matter the season. For today, he was happy to close his eyes for a moment on the trail to revel in the sun warming his skin. Words didn't even have to be spoken with the servants and family that followed along. Just pure enjoyment. "Isn't it a great day?" Anyone around him was welcome to answer, or maybe no one. It could have just as easily been rhetorical.
Men of all ranks and ages were already gathering by the time Georgios and his party had come to the meeting place. He slid from his horse with little regard to tie the stallion up. There was no need. Kallos would follow him to the end of time and do little to disrupt the world around them. The nose of the horse nudging the shoulder of the man before Georgios dug into a saddlebag to offer a treat for the journey.
"Georgios of Leventi." He declared proudly as though the people who were standing there were unaware who he was. They all knew. Everyone knew. Georgios could rarely go anywhere without the people all around knowing at least of him. But, he still enjoyed introducing himself just like he had last year waiting for the color he would be assigned for the party.
At an early age, Georgios had occupied his time with perfecting the art of hunt from a steed. It was the perfect marriage between the horses he loved so much and a hobby that allowed him to enjoy the great outdoors. The middle Leventi brother frequently snuck from the house to hide from tutors, but at least he could distract his parents' ire with the impressive animals he brought home for dinner.
"We will win it this year, Kallos." His hand pat against the coarse hair of his favorite horse. The two of them were aging, but he was confident they would be able to win it all. The only downfall to the days like this was the fact that he didn't have any sons to share it with. This would be delightful to share with any one of his daughters, the ones that were interested in riding and hunting. But, it was for men only. That had been made clear.
Georgios had been talking about the hunt all week and encouraged that his daughters should at least come to watch their old man attempt to keep up with the rest of the competitors. He assumed in only a few years they would be required to root for their husbands. He lamented such a travesty many times sulking through the house reminding them that this could be the last time they come with him. To the older girls, of course. However, he did not require or force any of them to attend an event. Georgios rarely forced anything upon anyone unless he absolutely had to.
Late summer was an incredible time to be in the woods of Taengea. Actually, Georgios felt that Taengea was the most beautiful place in the Realm no matter the season. For today, he was happy to close his eyes for a moment on the trail to revel in the sun warming his skin. Words didn't even have to be spoken with the servants and family that followed along. Just pure enjoyment. "Isn't it a great day?" Anyone around him was welcome to answer, or maybe no one. It could have just as easily been rhetorical.
Men of all ranks and ages were already gathering by the time Georgios and his party had come to the meeting place. He slid from his horse with little regard to tie the stallion up. There was no need. Kallos would follow him to the end of time and do little to disrupt the world around them. The nose of the horse nudging the shoulder of the man before Georgios dug into a saddlebag to offer a treat for the journey.
"Georgios of Leventi." He declared proudly as though the people who were standing there were unaware who he was. They all knew. Everyone knew. Georgios could rarely go anywhere without the people all around knowing at least of him. But, he still enjoyed introducing himself just like he had last year waiting for the color he would be assigned for the party.
Ever since he had returned and retired from being the overarching General of the Taengean armies, Irakles has found himself mildly irritated at how he had to deal with more humanly issues when it came to runnning his familial House and the provinces that came with it, rather then just taking his axe and threathening the next soldier that came up to him with an inane issue. Irakles was seriously beginning to think that to a certain extent, solving issues on the battlefield was a lot easier then solving issues in relation to human communication.
But complain as he may, he had no choice. What he could do however, was take some time off occasionally. Which was what he did today.
Leaving the House in Achilleas's hands, he had taken Aeneus out with him, and rode all the way to Chaoedia, to take part in the annual Hunt hosted by the Dimitrou family. Aeneus was due to be gelded soon - the head of the stables in the Mikaelidas household had finally given in and came to Irakles to admit that none of his stable hands could handle the spirited stallion, trained war horse and fierce with a temper to match. Add that on top of the fact that outside of the daily ride Irakles brought him on, Aeneus no longer saw the action he was used to seeing as Irakles's steed on the battlefield, and they have got one very ornery, very angry steed.
So Irakles had finally made the difficult decision to geld his constant companion. But he wanted to take the cream and golden stallion out on one last ride, before gelding him.
The rest of the competitors were of a slightly younger age, if not much younger. No surprise, really. This was a type of event that the young men would come to impress their lady of choice, for both nobles and commonborn folk alike were allowed to participate. Many of them greeted Irakles, for even as a retired general, there was not many who did not know who he is and what he's done for the kingdom. In return, Irakles would dip his head in acknowledgement, or call out to those he was more familiar with. He had two servants with him, one carrying his quiver and bow, whilst the other would serve as his second pairs of eyes to ensure all his equipment was polished. Otherwise, Irakles did not bother bringing a larger party.
As he pulled his snorting and pawing Aeneus to a stop, the prince slid off his saddle, and waved off the respectful bows of the people. His lips smiled as he noted the arrival of one Leventi just around the time he did, and Irakles dipped his head. "Wonderful to see you this year, Georgios. Is your brother not with you today?" he asked, curious on his friend's location. Irakles had always been more of a like mind to Fotios then Georgios, but he treated the younger Leventi with equal respect. The prince was adept at hiding the fact that he found Georgios's prospensity to produce daughters mildly laughable. But he was a prince of the realm - to show that would be detrimental to his reputation, which he has otherwise kept pristine clean.
Keeping a hold of the reins himself as the Dimitrou house servants came, he had to tightened his hold as a splatter of blue paint was streaked across Aeneus's hindquarters. The cream stallion reared, causing the people around them to skitter in fear, but Irakles kept a firm hold and a sharp command barked at his stallion to settle. Sure enough, the spirited stallion pranced, shaking his head violently, but slowly settled down. With an apologetic smile, Irakles bowed his head again. "Much apologies for my steed. He is spirited and cannot wait to start the hunt, it seems."
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Check out their information page here.
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Ever since he had returned and retired from being the overarching General of the Taengean armies, Irakles has found himself mildly irritated at how he had to deal with more humanly issues when it came to runnning his familial House and the provinces that came with it, rather then just taking his axe and threathening the next soldier that came up to him with an inane issue. Irakles was seriously beginning to think that to a certain extent, solving issues on the battlefield was a lot easier then solving issues in relation to human communication.
But complain as he may, he had no choice. What he could do however, was take some time off occasionally. Which was what he did today.
Leaving the House in Achilleas's hands, he had taken Aeneus out with him, and rode all the way to Chaoedia, to take part in the annual Hunt hosted by the Dimitrou family. Aeneus was due to be gelded soon - the head of the stables in the Mikaelidas household had finally given in and came to Irakles to admit that none of his stable hands could handle the spirited stallion, trained war horse and fierce with a temper to match. Add that on top of the fact that outside of the daily ride Irakles brought him on, Aeneus no longer saw the action he was used to seeing as Irakles's steed on the battlefield, and they have got one very ornery, very angry steed.
So Irakles had finally made the difficult decision to geld his constant companion. But he wanted to take the cream and golden stallion out on one last ride, before gelding him.
The rest of the competitors were of a slightly younger age, if not much younger. No surprise, really. This was a type of event that the young men would come to impress their lady of choice, for both nobles and commonborn folk alike were allowed to participate. Many of them greeted Irakles, for even as a retired general, there was not many who did not know who he is and what he's done for the kingdom. In return, Irakles would dip his head in acknowledgement, or call out to those he was more familiar with. He had two servants with him, one carrying his quiver and bow, whilst the other would serve as his second pairs of eyes to ensure all his equipment was polished. Otherwise, Irakles did not bother bringing a larger party.
As he pulled his snorting and pawing Aeneus to a stop, the prince slid off his saddle, and waved off the respectful bows of the people. His lips smiled as he noted the arrival of one Leventi just around the time he did, and Irakles dipped his head. "Wonderful to see you this year, Georgios. Is your brother not with you today?" he asked, curious on his friend's location. Irakles had always been more of a like mind to Fotios then Georgios, but he treated the younger Leventi with equal respect. The prince was adept at hiding the fact that he found Georgios's prospensity to produce daughters mildly laughable. But he was a prince of the realm - to show that would be detrimental to his reputation, which he has otherwise kept pristine clean.
Keeping a hold of the reins himself as the Dimitrou house servants came, he had to tightened his hold as a splatter of blue paint was streaked across Aeneus's hindquarters. The cream stallion reared, causing the people around them to skitter in fear, but Irakles kept a firm hold and a sharp command barked at his stallion to settle. Sure enough, the spirited stallion pranced, shaking his head violently, but slowly settled down. With an apologetic smile, Irakles bowed his head again. "Much apologies for my steed. He is spirited and cannot wait to start the hunt, it seems."
Ever since he had returned and retired from being the overarching General of the Taengean armies, Irakles has found himself mildly irritated at how he had to deal with more humanly issues when it came to runnning his familial House and the provinces that came with it, rather then just taking his axe and threathening the next soldier that came up to him with an inane issue. Irakles was seriously beginning to think that to a certain extent, solving issues on the battlefield was a lot easier then solving issues in relation to human communication.
But complain as he may, he had no choice. What he could do however, was take some time off occasionally. Which was what he did today.
Leaving the House in Achilleas's hands, he had taken Aeneus out with him, and rode all the way to Chaoedia, to take part in the annual Hunt hosted by the Dimitrou family. Aeneus was due to be gelded soon - the head of the stables in the Mikaelidas household had finally given in and came to Irakles to admit that none of his stable hands could handle the spirited stallion, trained war horse and fierce with a temper to match. Add that on top of the fact that outside of the daily ride Irakles brought him on, Aeneus no longer saw the action he was used to seeing as Irakles's steed on the battlefield, and they have got one very ornery, very angry steed.
So Irakles had finally made the difficult decision to geld his constant companion. But he wanted to take the cream and golden stallion out on one last ride, before gelding him.
The rest of the competitors were of a slightly younger age, if not much younger. No surprise, really. This was a type of event that the young men would come to impress their lady of choice, for both nobles and commonborn folk alike were allowed to participate. Many of them greeted Irakles, for even as a retired general, there was not many who did not know who he is and what he's done for the kingdom. In return, Irakles would dip his head in acknowledgement, or call out to those he was more familiar with. He had two servants with him, one carrying his quiver and bow, whilst the other would serve as his second pairs of eyes to ensure all his equipment was polished. Otherwise, Irakles did not bother bringing a larger party.
As he pulled his snorting and pawing Aeneus to a stop, the prince slid off his saddle, and waved off the respectful bows of the people. His lips smiled as he noted the arrival of one Leventi just around the time he did, and Irakles dipped his head. "Wonderful to see you this year, Georgios. Is your brother not with you today?" he asked, curious on his friend's location. Irakles had always been more of a like mind to Fotios then Georgios, but he treated the younger Leventi with equal respect. The prince was adept at hiding the fact that he found Georgios's prospensity to produce daughters mildly laughable. But he was a prince of the realm - to show that would be detrimental to his reputation, which he has otherwise kept pristine clean.
Keeping a hold of the reins himself as the Dimitrou house servants came, he had to tightened his hold as a splatter of blue paint was streaked across Aeneus's hindquarters. The cream stallion reared, causing the people around them to skitter in fear, but Irakles kept a firm hold and a sharp command barked at his stallion to settle. Sure enough, the spirited stallion pranced, shaking his head violently, but slowly settled down. With an apologetic smile, Irakles bowed his head again. "Much apologies for my steed. He is spirited and cannot wait to start the hunt, it seems."
The hunt was being held in Chaoedia, near Iason’s home, rather than his own. This was not due to his preference for not entertaining, though that helped. But more due to tradition. A tradition that made it so that people came to the younger Dimitrou’s land, rather than the elder. He’d made the journey with both his daughters and brother yesterday and the five of them had spent the evening and subsequent morning together. It was worth dealing with the crowd, to have his family under one roof again.
Dorothea had already tried and failed (twice) to convince him to allow her to participate in the hunt. She’d come to him and presented herself as an able huntress, with more than twice the skill of any man present. This he agreed with, but she still would not be allowed to follow on her hunter. A few minutes later, and Alexa, too, also tried the same tack. This request was much easier to dismiss. “‘Want’,” he’d said, “Is a different animal entirely than ‘able’.” It was a quote he relied on often for his children. His youngest desperately wanted to be like her older siblings and to hunt. And while he would have liked to let her, he’d made that mistake with Dorothea. She was more than old enough to have a husband...and yet…..
Iason, however, was able to join him and followed him as a silent shadow while they joined the growing number of people on their land. Dorothea insisted on leading the horses for them, which he finally allowed. Alexa‘s pout was open for the world to see but it was behind his back. And truthfully it matched his own grave demeanor. Dorotheos was with them until he spied a friend and broke off in that direction.
“My lord!”
A servant rushed up to him, taking the reins from Dorothea’s hands with a nod. She evidently did not like it because she immediately snatched them back.
“My lord…” the servant complained.
“Dorothea,” he turned and eyed her. She held his gaze for a moment before cooly handing over the horse reins without a word.
“Thank you, my lord,” the servant said, side eyeing Dorothea. She kept her face impassive as she blatantly looked the servant over as well. Once the man had led the horses away to get their paint stripes, Gavriil turned to his daughters. The request that they go over with the women was on the tip of his tongue but he didn’t actually utter a single word. The looks both girls were giving him made him think better of directly giving an order that would likely not be obeyed.
Instead, all he said was, “Lady Niinan is making stew…” And he pointed. For a moment, he was sure that both his daughters would ignore his attempt to get them where they should be. But they didn’t. They took the hint and left him alone with Iason. Or, he thought they had. Iason himself had vanished and he looked about to find that Iason was with Dorotheos, looking the horses over.
His servant returned just then, leading his black hunter toward him. The horse had a wide red swath across its hindquarters. “Prince Irakles is here, my lord,” the man said in low tones. Glancing over the horse’s shoulder, he nodded to himself. Not only would it be rude to ignore a prince of the realm, they were family besides. Technically the prince was his uncle, but the two men were practically the same age. He’d never once thought of Irakles as anything but his aunt’s husband. And his personal opinion of the man was low, considering how his aunt was living in shame.
Still. Duty.
“Your highness,” he kept hold of Mavros’s reins. The horse settled its head on his shoulder and peered at Irakles with huge brown eyes. After a long pause he shifted his weight from one foot to the next and said, “Your sons are not joining you?”
To Georgios, he nodded and said the man’s name by way of greeting.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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The hunt was being held in Chaoedia, near Iason’s home, rather than his own. This was not due to his preference for not entertaining, though that helped. But more due to tradition. A tradition that made it so that people came to the younger Dimitrou’s land, rather than the elder. He’d made the journey with both his daughters and brother yesterday and the five of them had spent the evening and subsequent morning together. It was worth dealing with the crowd, to have his family under one roof again.
Dorothea had already tried and failed (twice) to convince him to allow her to participate in the hunt. She’d come to him and presented herself as an able huntress, with more than twice the skill of any man present. This he agreed with, but she still would not be allowed to follow on her hunter. A few minutes later, and Alexa, too, also tried the same tack. This request was much easier to dismiss. “‘Want’,” he’d said, “Is a different animal entirely than ‘able’.” It was a quote he relied on often for his children. His youngest desperately wanted to be like her older siblings and to hunt. And while he would have liked to let her, he’d made that mistake with Dorothea. She was more than old enough to have a husband...and yet…..
Iason, however, was able to join him and followed him as a silent shadow while they joined the growing number of people on their land. Dorothea insisted on leading the horses for them, which he finally allowed. Alexa‘s pout was open for the world to see but it was behind his back. And truthfully it matched his own grave demeanor. Dorotheos was with them until he spied a friend and broke off in that direction.
“My lord!”
A servant rushed up to him, taking the reins from Dorothea’s hands with a nod. She evidently did not like it because she immediately snatched them back.
“My lord…” the servant complained.
“Dorothea,” he turned and eyed her. She held his gaze for a moment before cooly handing over the horse reins without a word.
“Thank you, my lord,” the servant said, side eyeing Dorothea. She kept her face impassive as she blatantly looked the servant over as well. Once the man had led the horses away to get their paint stripes, Gavriil turned to his daughters. The request that they go over with the women was on the tip of his tongue but he didn’t actually utter a single word. The looks both girls were giving him made him think better of directly giving an order that would likely not be obeyed.
Instead, all he said was, “Lady Niinan is making stew…” And he pointed. For a moment, he was sure that both his daughters would ignore his attempt to get them where they should be. But they didn’t. They took the hint and left him alone with Iason. Or, he thought they had. Iason himself had vanished and he looked about to find that Iason was with Dorotheos, looking the horses over.
His servant returned just then, leading his black hunter toward him. The horse had a wide red swath across its hindquarters. “Prince Irakles is here, my lord,” the man said in low tones. Glancing over the horse’s shoulder, he nodded to himself. Not only would it be rude to ignore a prince of the realm, they were family besides. Technically the prince was his uncle, but the two men were practically the same age. He’d never once thought of Irakles as anything but his aunt’s husband. And his personal opinion of the man was low, considering how his aunt was living in shame.
Still. Duty.
“Your highness,” he kept hold of Mavros’s reins. The horse settled its head on his shoulder and peered at Irakles with huge brown eyes. After a long pause he shifted his weight from one foot to the next and said, “Your sons are not joining you?”
To Georgios, he nodded and said the man’s name by way of greeting.
The hunt was being held in Chaoedia, near Iason’s home, rather than his own. This was not due to his preference for not entertaining, though that helped. But more due to tradition. A tradition that made it so that people came to the younger Dimitrou’s land, rather than the elder. He’d made the journey with both his daughters and brother yesterday and the five of them had spent the evening and subsequent morning together. It was worth dealing with the crowd, to have his family under one roof again.
Dorothea had already tried and failed (twice) to convince him to allow her to participate in the hunt. She’d come to him and presented herself as an able huntress, with more than twice the skill of any man present. This he agreed with, but she still would not be allowed to follow on her hunter. A few minutes later, and Alexa, too, also tried the same tack. This request was much easier to dismiss. “‘Want’,” he’d said, “Is a different animal entirely than ‘able’.” It was a quote he relied on often for his children. His youngest desperately wanted to be like her older siblings and to hunt. And while he would have liked to let her, he’d made that mistake with Dorothea. She was more than old enough to have a husband...and yet…..
Iason, however, was able to join him and followed him as a silent shadow while they joined the growing number of people on their land. Dorothea insisted on leading the horses for them, which he finally allowed. Alexa‘s pout was open for the world to see but it was behind his back. And truthfully it matched his own grave demeanor. Dorotheos was with them until he spied a friend and broke off in that direction.
“My lord!”
A servant rushed up to him, taking the reins from Dorothea’s hands with a nod. She evidently did not like it because she immediately snatched them back.
“My lord…” the servant complained.
“Dorothea,” he turned and eyed her. She held his gaze for a moment before cooly handing over the horse reins without a word.
“Thank you, my lord,” the servant said, side eyeing Dorothea. She kept her face impassive as she blatantly looked the servant over as well. Once the man had led the horses away to get their paint stripes, Gavriil turned to his daughters. The request that they go over with the women was on the tip of his tongue but he didn’t actually utter a single word. The looks both girls were giving him made him think better of directly giving an order that would likely not be obeyed.
Instead, all he said was, “Lady Niinan is making stew…” And he pointed. For a moment, he was sure that both his daughters would ignore his attempt to get them where they should be. But they didn’t. They took the hint and left him alone with Iason. Or, he thought they had. Iason himself had vanished and he looked about to find that Iason was with Dorotheos, looking the horses over.
His servant returned just then, leading his black hunter toward him. The horse had a wide red swath across its hindquarters. “Prince Irakles is here, my lord,” the man said in low tones. Glancing over the horse’s shoulder, he nodded to himself. Not only would it be rude to ignore a prince of the realm, they were family besides. Technically the prince was his uncle, but the two men were practically the same age. He’d never once thought of Irakles as anything but his aunt’s husband. And his personal opinion of the man was low, considering how his aunt was living in shame.
Still. Duty.
“Your highness,” he kept hold of Mavros’s reins. The horse settled its head on his shoulder and peered at Irakles with huge brown eyes. After a long pause he shifted his weight from one foot to the next and said, “Your sons are not joining you?”
To Georgios, he nodded and said the man’s name by way of greeting.
Irakles was a surprise to the day, maybe not a pleasant one, but Georgios put on that signature smile anyhow. The man was able to find a silver lining on anyone - even one who spent time asking about his brother rather than his own day. He shook his head one way and then the other in a sharp response. ”I do not believe so. You will just have to deal with me today, Prince Irakles.” He knew that the friendship between Fotios and Irakles was one that he wouldn’t get between. Even in the future, they were the ones that would pull the strings. Georgios was merely along for the ride. And it was obvious. Irakles was a different kind of second son.
Georgios had no daughters to come along and not even one that would ask to come for more than the pleasant conversation. Even escaping without one in tow at Evelli’s advice to be put in front of so many men of the kingdom was something. He enjoyed his daughters, however, this was not a place for them. Maybe they would arrive late and just enjoy the festivities after the hunt was complete.
The blue placed on his stallion created a stir. Not surprisingly considering the personality of the creature. Georgios had grown around horses, he was a Leventi. There was no flinch or scurry to be had from this elder. He just shook his head with a laugh. ”Spirited indeed. Enthusiastic for the competition.” Georgios winked to the horse and watched as his own calmly accepted a splash of yellow. The same matched the arrows Georgios accepted from the table.
They weren’t alone for long. No another veteran joined the club around the table. Georgios stepped out of the way of the head of the Dimitrou House. He asked what he had been wondering. ”Good Day, Lord Gavriil.” He nodded in return while placing the arrows into the quiver on his horse. He no longer had the range to consistently reach over his shoulder and grab at the ammunition. His hands brushing over his darker himation. It was easier to clean after a muddy day tramping through the woods, but different than the usual pristine whites he was used to.
He smirked to himself as he looked between the trio. They had all participated for so many years and yet here they were again. What man didn’t like the idea of boasting for a year? Georgios attended all the festivals he could, just for that reason. He wasn’t slowing down any time soon. Not even as he passed the age his own father had passed away. The Leventi was already scheming his way to beating the others to the full potential.
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Irakles was a surprise to the day, maybe not a pleasant one, but Georgios put on that signature smile anyhow. The man was able to find a silver lining on anyone - even one who spent time asking about his brother rather than his own day. He shook his head one way and then the other in a sharp response. ”I do not believe so. You will just have to deal with me today, Prince Irakles.” He knew that the friendship between Fotios and Irakles was one that he wouldn’t get between. Even in the future, they were the ones that would pull the strings. Georgios was merely along for the ride. And it was obvious. Irakles was a different kind of second son.
Georgios had no daughters to come along and not even one that would ask to come for more than the pleasant conversation. Even escaping without one in tow at Evelli’s advice to be put in front of so many men of the kingdom was something. He enjoyed his daughters, however, this was not a place for them. Maybe they would arrive late and just enjoy the festivities after the hunt was complete.
The blue placed on his stallion created a stir. Not surprisingly considering the personality of the creature. Georgios had grown around horses, he was a Leventi. There was no flinch or scurry to be had from this elder. He just shook his head with a laugh. ”Spirited indeed. Enthusiastic for the competition.” Georgios winked to the horse and watched as his own calmly accepted a splash of yellow. The same matched the arrows Georgios accepted from the table.
They weren’t alone for long. No another veteran joined the club around the table. Georgios stepped out of the way of the head of the Dimitrou House. He asked what he had been wondering. ”Good Day, Lord Gavriil.” He nodded in return while placing the arrows into the quiver on his horse. He no longer had the range to consistently reach over his shoulder and grab at the ammunition. His hands brushing over his darker himation. It was easier to clean after a muddy day tramping through the woods, but different than the usual pristine whites he was used to.
He smirked to himself as he looked between the trio. They had all participated for so many years and yet here they were again. What man didn’t like the idea of boasting for a year? Georgios attended all the festivals he could, just for that reason. He wasn’t slowing down any time soon. Not even as he passed the age his own father had passed away. The Leventi was already scheming his way to beating the others to the full potential.
Irakles was a surprise to the day, maybe not a pleasant one, but Georgios put on that signature smile anyhow. The man was able to find a silver lining on anyone - even one who spent time asking about his brother rather than his own day. He shook his head one way and then the other in a sharp response. ”I do not believe so. You will just have to deal with me today, Prince Irakles.” He knew that the friendship between Fotios and Irakles was one that he wouldn’t get between. Even in the future, they were the ones that would pull the strings. Georgios was merely along for the ride. And it was obvious. Irakles was a different kind of second son.
Georgios had no daughters to come along and not even one that would ask to come for more than the pleasant conversation. Even escaping without one in tow at Evelli’s advice to be put in front of so many men of the kingdom was something. He enjoyed his daughters, however, this was not a place for them. Maybe they would arrive late and just enjoy the festivities after the hunt was complete.
The blue placed on his stallion created a stir. Not surprisingly considering the personality of the creature. Georgios had grown around horses, he was a Leventi. There was no flinch or scurry to be had from this elder. He just shook his head with a laugh. ”Spirited indeed. Enthusiastic for the competition.” Georgios winked to the horse and watched as his own calmly accepted a splash of yellow. The same matched the arrows Georgios accepted from the table.
They weren’t alone for long. No another veteran joined the club around the table. Georgios stepped out of the way of the head of the Dimitrou House. He asked what he had been wondering. ”Good Day, Lord Gavriil.” He nodded in return while placing the arrows into the quiver on his horse. He no longer had the range to consistently reach over his shoulder and grab at the ammunition. His hands brushing over his darker himation. It was easier to clean after a muddy day tramping through the woods, but different than the usual pristine whites he was used to.
He smirked to himself as he looked between the trio. They had all participated for so many years and yet here they were again. What man didn’t like the idea of boasting for a year? Georgios attended all the festivals he could, just for that reason. He wasn’t slowing down any time soon. Not even as he passed the age his own father had passed away. The Leventi was already scheming his way to beating the others to the full potential.
The prince gave a good natured laugh in return to Georgios's own words. The second son of the Leventi household had always showed a gentle and bright personality - quite the contrast between his brothers, actually. But there were enough rumors circulating the right of his birth, rumors that Irakles had no care to further perpetuate given his friendship with Fotios. It would be bad form to gossip or further bad rumors on a friend's sibling, and if Fotios had accepted Georgios as a brother, Irakles had nothing to say. Afterall, he had yet to formally legitimize his two daughters bore to him by his mistress, and as such had no say in such matters. Instead, the graying general gave a lighthearted response, "And with you I shall, Lord Georgios. It shall be a good hunt, anyhow."
With his firm hold on the snorting, stamping stallion, one hand stroking the cream snout, the male turned his gaze sideways to Georgios, chuckling at the younger one's wink. "A little too spirited, if my stablehands have anything to say about it. Aeneus was trained to be on the battlefield. I think life as a retired war horse is a little too sedate for this old man. I'm having him gelded this coming week. Consider this a last hurrah for him." he murmured to the lord as the cream stallion finally settled down enough for Irakles to step aside again, and allowing the runner boys to fill his saddlebag with arrows. He wasn't one who hunted with ranged weapons very often, but in a hunt such as this, it would be foolish to hunt with his usual battle axe. Not that he did not bring it, but Irakles would start with what people used for the most part first.
Turning his head to the commotion as another party seemed to arrive, the flurry admitted one Lord Gavriil of Dimitrou, who formerly hosted the hunt till he passed the reins on to his son, whose province they were to hunt upon. Behind him, Irakles faintly noted his two daughters heading towards where the women were making stew, but turned his full attention to the Dimitrou lord as he arrived to their little conversation. His wife was related to the Dimitrou's, so in a way so was he to Gavriil, and thus, Irakles gave a gentle dip of his head as Gavriil approached him, his congenial smile in place even as Aeneus snorted and protested the arrival of yet another beast.
With a firm tug on his horse's reins, Irakles shook his head. "Some matters at the province, and I asked Achilleas to handle it. Emilios is off elsewhere in the globe handling matters, so it'll just be me you have to contend with today." His gaze wandered over to Iason, and then he asked in return. "And yours? Will he be joining us today?" The prince paused as if to ponder his words, and then slipped it in anyway. "Tis a pity Lady Dorothea won't be with us. I'm sure her skills would outmatch us all in this hunt." It was no secret that the daughter to Gavriil was rumored to be blessed by Artemis herself with a bow, and Irakles was curious to see her skill for his own eyes.
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The prince gave a good natured laugh in return to Georgios's own words. The second son of the Leventi household had always showed a gentle and bright personality - quite the contrast between his brothers, actually. But there were enough rumors circulating the right of his birth, rumors that Irakles had no care to further perpetuate given his friendship with Fotios. It would be bad form to gossip or further bad rumors on a friend's sibling, and if Fotios had accepted Georgios as a brother, Irakles had nothing to say. Afterall, he had yet to formally legitimize his two daughters bore to him by his mistress, and as such had no say in such matters. Instead, the graying general gave a lighthearted response, "And with you I shall, Lord Georgios. It shall be a good hunt, anyhow."
With his firm hold on the snorting, stamping stallion, one hand stroking the cream snout, the male turned his gaze sideways to Georgios, chuckling at the younger one's wink. "A little too spirited, if my stablehands have anything to say about it. Aeneus was trained to be on the battlefield. I think life as a retired war horse is a little too sedate for this old man. I'm having him gelded this coming week. Consider this a last hurrah for him." he murmured to the lord as the cream stallion finally settled down enough for Irakles to step aside again, and allowing the runner boys to fill his saddlebag with arrows. He wasn't one who hunted with ranged weapons very often, but in a hunt such as this, it would be foolish to hunt with his usual battle axe. Not that he did not bring it, but Irakles would start with what people used for the most part first.
Turning his head to the commotion as another party seemed to arrive, the flurry admitted one Lord Gavriil of Dimitrou, who formerly hosted the hunt till he passed the reins on to his son, whose province they were to hunt upon. Behind him, Irakles faintly noted his two daughters heading towards where the women were making stew, but turned his full attention to the Dimitrou lord as he arrived to their little conversation. His wife was related to the Dimitrou's, so in a way so was he to Gavriil, and thus, Irakles gave a gentle dip of his head as Gavriil approached him, his congenial smile in place even as Aeneus snorted and protested the arrival of yet another beast.
With a firm tug on his horse's reins, Irakles shook his head. "Some matters at the province, and I asked Achilleas to handle it. Emilios is off elsewhere in the globe handling matters, so it'll just be me you have to contend with today." His gaze wandered over to Iason, and then he asked in return. "And yours? Will he be joining us today?" The prince paused as if to ponder his words, and then slipped it in anyway. "Tis a pity Lady Dorothea won't be with us. I'm sure her skills would outmatch us all in this hunt." It was no secret that the daughter to Gavriil was rumored to be blessed by Artemis herself with a bow, and Irakles was curious to see her skill for his own eyes.
The prince gave a good natured laugh in return to Georgios's own words. The second son of the Leventi household had always showed a gentle and bright personality - quite the contrast between his brothers, actually. But there were enough rumors circulating the right of his birth, rumors that Irakles had no care to further perpetuate given his friendship with Fotios. It would be bad form to gossip or further bad rumors on a friend's sibling, and if Fotios had accepted Georgios as a brother, Irakles had nothing to say. Afterall, he had yet to formally legitimize his two daughters bore to him by his mistress, and as such had no say in such matters. Instead, the graying general gave a lighthearted response, "And with you I shall, Lord Georgios. It shall be a good hunt, anyhow."
With his firm hold on the snorting, stamping stallion, one hand stroking the cream snout, the male turned his gaze sideways to Georgios, chuckling at the younger one's wink. "A little too spirited, if my stablehands have anything to say about it. Aeneus was trained to be on the battlefield. I think life as a retired war horse is a little too sedate for this old man. I'm having him gelded this coming week. Consider this a last hurrah for him." he murmured to the lord as the cream stallion finally settled down enough for Irakles to step aside again, and allowing the runner boys to fill his saddlebag with arrows. He wasn't one who hunted with ranged weapons very often, but in a hunt such as this, it would be foolish to hunt with his usual battle axe. Not that he did not bring it, but Irakles would start with what people used for the most part first.
Turning his head to the commotion as another party seemed to arrive, the flurry admitted one Lord Gavriil of Dimitrou, who formerly hosted the hunt till he passed the reins on to his son, whose province they were to hunt upon. Behind him, Irakles faintly noted his two daughters heading towards where the women were making stew, but turned his full attention to the Dimitrou lord as he arrived to their little conversation. His wife was related to the Dimitrou's, so in a way so was he to Gavriil, and thus, Irakles gave a gentle dip of his head as Gavriil approached him, his congenial smile in place even as Aeneus snorted and protested the arrival of yet another beast.
With a firm tug on his horse's reins, Irakles shook his head. "Some matters at the province, and I asked Achilleas to handle it. Emilios is off elsewhere in the globe handling matters, so it'll just be me you have to contend with today." His gaze wandered over to Iason, and then he asked in return. "And yours? Will he be joining us today?" The prince paused as if to ponder his words, and then slipped it in anyway. "Tis a pity Lady Dorothea won't be with us. I'm sure her skills would outmatch us all in this hunt." It was no secret that the daughter to Gavriil was rumored to be blessed by Artemis herself with a bow, and Irakles was curious to see her skill for his own eyes.
He followed Irakles’s gaze toward Iason and smiled indulgently. “Yes. He’ll be joining us. Taking over for us, in a few years.” That was the hope, anyway. All of his children were dear; his daughters differently than his son. But it was Iason to whom all of this would go. And it was Iason, not Dorothea or Alexa, who would make him proud today.
Though, as Irakles pointed out, Dorothea really could outmatch them all. It was more the pity that she could not participate. But he suspected his daughter would not thank him for extending that pity verbally. Especially when he was the one who’d told her she could not compete. Not for his own beliefs, of course, but it was the way; it was what was done. Expected. He’d never find a husband for her if she was better than the lot of them.
“She is content with her reign over our lands at home,” he said. It was mostly the truth. “I will see you both at the start.” He moved away toward the horses and swung up onto his own. As comfortable hunting from the back of a horse as not, he smiled at the other two and wished them luck. They would need it.
His daughters stood with the other women, eyeing him. He turned away from their stares. It was enough to make him feel that he would not hear the end of it on the way home.
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He followed Irakles’s gaze toward Iason and smiled indulgently. “Yes. He’ll be joining us. Taking over for us, in a few years.” That was the hope, anyway. All of his children were dear; his daughters differently than his son. But it was Iason to whom all of this would go. And it was Iason, not Dorothea or Alexa, who would make him proud today.
Though, as Irakles pointed out, Dorothea really could outmatch them all. It was more the pity that she could not participate. But he suspected his daughter would not thank him for extending that pity verbally. Especially when he was the one who’d told her she could not compete. Not for his own beliefs, of course, but it was the way; it was what was done. Expected. He’d never find a husband for her if she was better than the lot of them.
“She is content with her reign over our lands at home,” he said. It was mostly the truth. “I will see you both at the start.” He moved away toward the horses and swung up onto his own. As comfortable hunting from the back of a horse as not, he smiled at the other two and wished them luck. They would need it.
His daughters stood with the other women, eyeing him. He turned away from their stares. It was enough to make him feel that he would not hear the end of it on the way home.
He followed Irakles’s gaze toward Iason and smiled indulgently. “Yes. He’ll be joining us. Taking over for us, in a few years.” That was the hope, anyway. All of his children were dear; his daughters differently than his son. But it was Iason to whom all of this would go. And it was Iason, not Dorothea or Alexa, who would make him proud today.
Though, as Irakles pointed out, Dorothea really could outmatch them all. It was more the pity that she could not participate. But he suspected his daughter would not thank him for extending that pity verbally. Especially when he was the one who’d told her she could not compete. Not for his own beliefs, of course, but it was the way; it was what was done. Expected. He’d never find a husband for her if she was better than the lot of them.
“She is content with her reign over our lands at home,” he said. It was mostly the truth. “I will see you both at the start.” He moved away toward the horses and swung up onto his own. As comfortable hunting from the back of a horse as not, he smiled at the other two and wished them luck. They would need it.
His daughters stood with the other women, eyeing him. He turned away from their stares. It was enough to make him feel that he would not hear the end of it on the way home.
Georgios mildly listened to the other two men speak of affairs and children. He nodded along. None of it had depth, there wasn't anything out of the ordinary going on in their lives. The hunt was a small spark of excitement as they all watched their children grow into adulthood and themselves getting closer and closer to no longer being able to do such adventures as these. He was rechecking the reins before slinging himself up on to his own steed. The horse was a prized Leventi, like he would use anything less? He was sure that the smooth gate and calm demeanor could rival that of Irakles feisty warhorse. Life didn't always have to be about the danger.
"Right before you see my horse's ass." A Cheshire grin brazen over his face as he teased the other Lord before giving his own horse a kick. There was fun in being able to at least pretend like they were still children. He could almost see it, the years and years that had passed always closely speaking with these other men. Fotios might have done more of the political talk, but it didn't mean that Georgios wasn't there to have a good time when the occasion called for it.
The starting line was filled with all different types of men. The young, the old, the poor, the rich, even those who were merely middle and average. They were all represented as long as they had a bow and a horse. Gavriil had always encouraged a break in social lines, it was a Dimitrou way of the past. Georgios didn't mind. He had lived his life much the same way, until he was told he couldn't by his elder brother.
Eyes stared down the line and focused on what they were prepared to do next. They were going to hunt.
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Georgios mildly listened to the other two men speak of affairs and children. He nodded along. None of it had depth, there wasn't anything out of the ordinary going on in their lives. The hunt was a small spark of excitement as they all watched their children grow into adulthood and themselves getting closer and closer to no longer being able to do such adventures as these. He was rechecking the reins before slinging himself up on to his own steed. The horse was a prized Leventi, like he would use anything less? He was sure that the smooth gate and calm demeanor could rival that of Irakles feisty warhorse. Life didn't always have to be about the danger.
"Right before you see my horse's ass." A Cheshire grin brazen over his face as he teased the other Lord before giving his own horse a kick. There was fun in being able to at least pretend like they were still children. He could almost see it, the years and years that had passed always closely speaking with these other men. Fotios might have done more of the political talk, but it didn't mean that Georgios wasn't there to have a good time when the occasion called for it.
The starting line was filled with all different types of men. The young, the old, the poor, the rich, even those who were merely middle and average. They were all represented as long as they had a bow and a horse. Gavriil had always encouraged a break in social lines, it was a Dimitrou way of the past. Georgios didn't mind. He had lived his life much the same way, until he was told he couldn't by his elder brother.
Eyes stared down the line and focused on what they were prepared to do next. They were going to hunt.
Georgios mildly listened to the other two men speak of affairs and children. He nodded along. None of it had depth, there wasn't anything out of the ordinary going on in their lives. The hunt was a small spark of excitement as they all watched their children grow into adulthood and themselves getting closer and closer to no longer being able to do such adventures as these. He was rechecking the reins before slinging himself up on to his own steed. The horse was a prized Leventi, like he would use anything less? He was sure that the smooth gate and calm demeanor could rival that of Irakles feisty warhorse. Life didn't always have to be about the danger.
"Right before you see my horse's ass." A Cheshire grin brazen over his face as he teased the other Lord before giving his own horse a kick. There was fun in being able to at least pretend like they were still children. He could almost see it, the years and years that had passed always closely speaking with these other men. Fotios might have done more of the political talk, but it didn't mean that Georgios wasn't there to have a good time when the occasion called for it.
The starting line was filled with all different types of men. The young, the old, the poor, the rich, even those who were merely middle and average. They were all represented as long as they had a bow and a horse. Gavriil had always encouraged a break in social lines, it was a Dimitrou way of the past. Georgios didn't mind. He had lived his life much the same way, until he was told he couldn't by his elder brother.
Eyes stared down the line and focused on what they were prepared to do next. They were going to hunt.
The proud, indulgent look that Gavrill gave to Iason was familiar - albeit, not similar. Irakles often gave the same to Achilleas, but perhaps with less indulgence and more pride. Unlike Gavriil, Irakles had high expectations for both his sons, and while Achilleas's achievements as General has been greatly fortifying for his father.... well, it was never enough for Irakles. In a way, his wife had been good for one thing, despite her nature. Myrto had managed to produce him two sons, while Meena had only managed daughters, and Irakles would always be grateful his heir was ascertained.
Nodding as Gavriil led his horse away, Irakles had smirked when the second lord of the Leventi family wore his Cheshire grin - he was known to be the least serious of the Leventi family, a mile wide difference between himself and Fotios, the brother which Irakles was in much closer contact with. Shaking his head as Georgios gave his own horse a kick, Irakles was quick to vault himself upon the back of Aeneus with the finesse of a man used to being on horseback, something most in Taengea posessed.
The warhorse reacted swiftly to the General's command, his steps steady and sure as he followed behind the other two, and the remainder of the lords young and old at the starting line. The colors were wide and varied on the rumps of horses, and upon the back of his axe, Irakles strapped the quiver of arrows,before grabbing his bow from his servant. Like the blue splattered on the hindquarters of his steed, the color matched the ribbons now decorated upon his passel of arrows, and once the hunting horn was sounded, the ribbons flew in the air as the men shot forward in a flurry of kicked up dust and horse hooves.
Accustomed to being surrounded by men, noise, loud sounds and yells, Aeneus barely flinched as Irakles directed the horse into the forests of Chaoedia, where the animals were quickly frightened by the amount of noise originating from the group of men. Exactly what they wanted.
The more wild animals were flushed out, the better chance they had to gain a hunt. His sharp eyes roamed the forests, and then grinned as he spotted the fluttering of feathers. Swiftly, Irakles grabbed an arrow, aimed and fired at a grouse who squawked as the weapon went through his wings, injuring it but not quite killing it.
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The proud, indulgent look that Gavrill gave to Iason was familiar - albeit, not similar. Irakles often gave the same to Achilleas, but perhaps with less indulgence and more pride. Unlike Gavriil, Irakles had high expectations for both his sons, and while Achilleas's achievements as General has been greatly fortifying for his father.... well, it was never enough for Irakles. In a way, his wife had been good for one thing, despite her nature. Myrto had managed to produce him two sons, while Meena had only managed daughters, and Irakles would always be grateful his heir was ascertained.
Nodding as Gavriil led his horse away, Irakles had smirked when the second lord of the Leventi family wore his Cheshire grin - he was known to be the least serious of the Leventi family, a mile wide difference between himself and Fotios, the brother which Irakles was in much closer contact with. Shaking his head as Georgios gave his own horse a kick, Irakles was quick to vault himself upon the back of Aeneus with the finesse of a man used to being on horseback, something most in Taengea posessed.
The warhorse reacted swiftly to the General's command, his steps steady and sure as he followed behind the other two, and the remainder of the lords young and old at the starting line. The colors were wide and varied on the rumps of horses, and upon the back of his axe, Irakles strapped the quiver of arrows,before grabbing his bow from his servant. Like the blue splattered on the hindquarters of his steed, the color matched the ribbons now decorated upon his passel of arrows, and once the hunting horn was sounded, the ribbons flew in the air as the men shot forward in a flurry of kicked up dust and horse hooves.
Accustomed to being surrounded by men, noise, loud sounds and yells, Aeneus barely flinched as Irakles directed the horse into the forests of Chaoedia, where the animals were quickly frightened by the amount of noise originating from the group of men. Exactly what they wanted.
The more wild animals were flushed out, the better chance they had to gain a hunt. His sharp eyes roamed the forests, and then grinned as he spotted the fluttering of feathers. Swiftly, Irakles grabbed an arrow, aimed and fired at a grouse who squawked as the weapon went through his wings, injuring it but not quite killing it.
The proud, indulgent look that Gavrill gave to Iason was familiar - albeit, not similar. Irakles often gave the same to Achilleas, but perhaps with less indulgence and more pride. Unlike Gavriil, Irakles had high expectations for both his sons, and while Achilleas's achievements as General has been greatly fortifying for his father.... well, it was never enough for Irakles. In a way, his wife had been good for one thing, despite her nature. Myrto had managed to produce him two sons, while Meena had only managed daughters, and Irakles would always be grateful his heir was ascertained.
Nodding as Gavriil led his horse away, Irakles had smirked when the second lord of the Leventi family wore his Cheshire grin - he was known to be the least serious of the Leventi family, a mile wide difference between himself and Fotios, the brother which Irakles was in much closer contact with. Shaking his head as Georgios gave his own horse a kick, Irakles was quick to vault himself upon the back of Aeneus with the finesse of a man used to being on horseback, something most in Taengea posessed.
The warhorse reacted swiftly to the General's command, his steps steady and sure as he followed behind the other two, and the remainder of the lords young and old at the starting line. The colors were wide and varied on the rumps of horses, and upon the back of his axe, Irakles strapped the quiver of arrows,before grabbing his bow from his servant. Like the blue splattered on the hindquarters of his steed, the color matched the ribbons now decorated upon his passel of arrows, and once the hunting horn was sounded, the ribbons flew in the air as the men shot forward in a flurry of kicked up dust and horse hooves.
Accustomed to being surrounded by men, noise, loud sounds and yells, Aeneus barely flinched as Irakles directed the horse into the forests of Chaoedia, where the animals were quickly frightened by the amount of noise originating from the group of men. Exactly what they wanted.
The more wild animals were flushed out, the better chance they had to gain a hunt. His sharp eyes roamed the forests, and then grinned as he spotted the fluttering of feathers. Swiftly, Irakles grabbed an arrow, aimed and fired at a grouse who squawked as the weapon went through his wings, injuring it but not quite killing it.
At twenty-four, Iason of Dimitrou had begun to take over the running of the barony of Chaoedia from his father several years ago but in truth considered it still his father's land above all. He went to the older Dimitrou for everything and his advice was always solid and stable, dependable as he had ever been. To have such a hunt on lands that were technically under his command, he was glad to welcome the lords but equally glad to have his father here to guide most things. He didn't dislike the responsibilities of being a baron, but he'd heard the whispers whenever he was at court.
To be considered boring and dull would cut most young men to the quick, but unlike the princes he had no desire to run about from be to bed or causing a fuss in any manner. There would be no point to them, he didn't have the luxury of recklessness as the only male heir to his family line. And truth be told, he'd never much seen the appeal of such a lifestyle, he would much rather be reading or spending time with the horses and his family than gallivanting about after temporary pleasure no matter how tempting he'd been told it was.
Mounted on the bay stallion his father had gifted him many years ago, Iason guided the horse in behind his father as they came face to face with several of Taengea's most powerful men. Georgios of Leventi had managed to tear himself from his gaggle of daughters, and Irakles of Mikaelidas who continued to shame his aunt warranted something of a scowl but the younger man managed to keep his expression stoic instead. If his father could manage pleasantries so could he. He gave a respectful nod to the prince as the man spoke of him, though he held his tongue and preoccupied himself with checking the feel of the reins in his hand. The sooner the hunt began, the sooner he could ignore those he disliked and lose himself in what Dimitrou men did best.
"At your signal, father."
Once they were all settled in, the procession began to infiltrate the forest and Iason felt excitement rising in his chest. This was the sort of thing he enjoyed above all else, becoming one with his mount and letting the horse feel the best path through the uneven terrain of the forest. The arrow that sailed first belonged to the prince, and he looked over to the other man with a raised brow. To injure and frighten the animal was far worse than killing it outright and the younger man sent up a quick prayer of apology to Artemis as well as one asking for her blessing and luck on this hunt.
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At twenty-four, Iason of Dimitrou had begun to take over the running of the barony of Chaoedia from his father several years ago but in truth considered it still his father's land above all. He went to the older Dimitrou for everything and his advice was always solid and stable, dependable as he had ever been. To have such a hunt on lands that were technically under his command, he was glad to welcome the lords but equally glad to have his father here to guide most things. He didn't dislike the responsibilities of being a baron, but he'd heard the whispers whenever he was at court.
To be considered boring and dull would cut most young men to the quick, but unlike the princes he had no desire to run about from be to bed or causing a fuss in any manner. There would be no point to them, he didn't have the luxury of recklessness as the only male heir to his family line. And truth be told, he'd never much seen the appeal of such a lifestyle, he would much rather be reading or spending time with the horses and his family than gallivanting about after temporary pleasure no matter how tempting he'd been told it was.
Mounted on the bay stallion his father had gifted him many years ago, Iason guided the horse in behind his father as they came face to face with several of Taengea's most powerful men. Georgios of Leventi had managed to tear himself from his gaggle of daughters, and Irakles of Mikaelidas who continued to shame his aunt warranted something of a scowl but the younger man managed to keep his expression stoic instead. If his father could manage pleasantries so could he. He gave a respectful nod to the prince as the man spoke of him, though he held his tongue and preoccupied himself with checking the feel of the reins in his hand. The sooner the hunt began, the sooner he could ignore those he disliked and lose himself in what Dimitrou men did best.
"At your signal, father."
Once they were all settled in, the procession began to infiltrate the forest and Iason felt excitement rising in his chest. This was the sort of thing he enjoyed above all else, becoming one with his mount and letting the horse feel the best path through the uneven terrain of the forest. The arrow that sailed first belonged to the prince, and he looked over to the other man with a raised brow. To injure and frighten the animal was far worse than killing it outright and the younger man sent up a quick prayer of apology to Artemis as well as one asking for her blessing and luck on this hunt.
At twenty-four, Iason of Dimitrou had begun to take over the running of the barony of Chaoedia from his father several years ago but in truth considered it still his father's land above all. He went to the older Dimitrou for everything and his advice was always solid and stable, dependable as he had ever been. To have such a hunt on lands that were technically under his command, he was glad to welcome the lords but equally glad to have his father here to guide most things. He didn't dislike the responsibilities of being a baron, but he'd heard the whispers whenever he was at court.
To be considered boring and dull would cut most young men to the quick, but unlike the princes he had no desire to run about from be to bed or causing a fuss in any manner. There would be no point to them, he didn't have the luxury of recklessness as the only male heir to his family line. And truth be told, he'd never much seen the appeal of such a lifestyle, he would much rather be reading or spending time with the horses and his family than gallivanting about after temporary pleasure no matter how tempting he'd been told it was.
Mounted on the bay stallion his father had gifted him many years ago, Iason guided the horse in behind his father as they came face to face with several of Taengea's most powerful men. Georgios of Leventi had managed to tear himself from his gaggle of daughters, and Irakles of Mikaelidas who continued to shame his aunt warranted something of a scowl but the younger man managed to keep his expression stoic instead. If his father could manage pleasantries so could he. He gave a respectful nod to the prince as the man spoke of him, though he held his tongue and preoccupied himself with checking the feel of the reins in his hand. The sooner the hunt began, the sooner he could ignore those he disliked and lose himself in what Dimitrou men did best.
"At your signal, father."
Once they were all settled in, the procession began to infiltrate the forest and Iason felt excitement rising in his chest. This was the sort of thing he enjoyed above all else, becoming one with his mount and letting the horse feel the best path through the uneven terrain of the forest. The arrow that sailed first belonged to the prince, and he looked over to the other man with a raised brow. To injure and frighten the animal was far worse than killing it outright and the younger man sent up a quick prayer of apology to Artemis as well as one asking for her blessing and luck on this hunt.
He’d swung up onto the back of his black horse with its swath of red, looking every bit like blood leaking down the animal’s hindquarters. His red fletched arrows were nestled comfortably in the quiver on his back and his bow was ready in his free hand. They would travel into the forest, hopefully silently, and shoot to their heart’s content. This would not be a race. It would depend on whose eyes were sharpest.
Gavriil issued the signal and ended up following Irakles for the first minute or so. He nodded and smiled at the prince, who’d wounded a bird, but he did not stop. With a squeeze of his knees, he urged his mount forward. There was little reason to shoot at birds yet. What he wanted was something bigger; quite a bit bigger. A stag or a doe. A boar, even. Something to roast over a pit, whose skin or antlers or tusks could be displayed back home in his hall.
Despite his internal wish that this would be a quiet excursion, it was not. No one was silly enough to shout or laugh with each other, they were all a little more skilled than that, but so many horses crashing through underbrush, or the leaves being pushed around by hooves were sure to alert any game to their presence. Still, it wouldn’t matter as much as it normally might have, since the animals were being flushed out towards them. It was a trifle unfair, perhaps, but then, this was not a normal hunt. It was a celebration.
His gaze bounced from tree to bush and below and around. The wonder of the gods to make deer so hard to spot was extraordinary. When deer stood in a field, their form and skins were not necessarily well hidden. But the dull coat was an asset once among trees and rocks and leaves. It did not draw the eye the way vivid green leaves did, or exposed gray rock, or the rich black of the trunks. To spot a deer, the trick was to look between the distractions of color.
He sat straight up on the horse’s back, guiding only with his knees, an arrow nocked and ready to fly the second it was needed. But there was nothing at present. And then, he saw her. A doe. There were no antlers to display but this beast was large. Gavriil did not immediately raise his bow. The shot wasn’t good. It would be better to return home with his quiver still completely full than to give off a bad shot and merely wound the animal. She’d run off somewhere and die a horribly slow, painful death for absolutely no reason.
The bow swung up and the arrow shot out within nearly the same motion. Another zipped out from the same bow, following its brother. Both arrows shot past the doe and straight into the Buck he’d just seen directly behind her. She bolted but the buck was not so lucky. He watched calmly as the buck took off after the doe, but her mate was slower and would die soon. All Gavriil had to do was wait for the animal to expire. There was no reason to chase the thing down immediately. Both arrows had been lethal, and while he would have liked to have killed the animal instantly, such a thing was not possible on this kind of hunt with this many people around.
He’d follow the blood trail in an hour or so. His arrow was in the animal and there were servants about to ensure that no one cheated. With a quick prayer up to Artemis in thanks for this auspicious gift, he urged his mount forward after looking around for Iason. Once he found him, he nodded to him, hoping his son would be even more successful.
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He’d swung up onto the back of his black horse with its swath of red, looking every bit like blood leaking down the animal’s hindquarters. His red fletched arrows were nestled comfortably in the quiver on his back and his bow was ready in his free hand. They would travel into the forest, hopefully silently, and shoot to their heart’s content. This would not be a race. It would depend on whose eyes were sharpest.
Gavriil issued the signal and ended up following Irakles for the first minute or so. He nodded and smiled at the prince, who’d wounded a bird, but he did not stop. With a squeeze of his knees, he urged his mount forward. There was little reason to shoot at birds yet. What he wanted was something bigger; quite a bit bigger. A stag or a doe. A boar, even. Something to roast over a pit, whose skin or antlers or tusks could be displayed back home in his hall.
Despite his internal wish that this would be a quiet excursion, it was not. No one was silly enough to shout or laugh with each other, they were all a little more skilled than that, but so many horses crashing through underbrush, or the leaves being pushed around by hooves were sure to alert any game to their presence. Still, it wouldn’t matter as much as it normally might have, since the animals were being flushed out towards them. It was a trifle unfair, perhaps, but then, this was not a normal hunt. It was a celebration.
His gaze bounced from tree to bush and below and around. The wonder of the gods to make deer so hard to spot was extraordinary. When deer stood in a field, their form and skins were not necessarily well hidden. But the dull coat was an asset once among trees and rocks and leaves. It did not draw the eye the way vivid green leaves did, or exposed gray rock, or the rich black of the trunks. To spot a deer, the trick was to look between the distractions of color.
He sat straight up on the horse’s back, guiding only with his knees, an arrow nocked and ready to fly the second it was needed. But there was nothing at present. And then, he saw her. A doe. There were no antlers to display but this beast was large. Gavriil did not immediately raise his bow. The shot wasn’t good. It would be better to return home with his quiver still completely full than to give off a bad shot and merely wound the animal. She’d run off somewhere and die a horribly slow, painful death for absolutely no reason.
The bow swung up and the arrow shot out within nearly the same motion. Another zipped out from the same bow, following its brother. Both arrows shot past the doe and straight into the Buck he’d just seen directly behind her. She bolted but the buck was not so lucky. He watched calmly as the buck took off after the doe, but her mate was slower and would die soon. All Gavriil had to do was wait for the animal to expire. There was no reason to chase the thing down immediately. Both arrows had been lethal, and while he would have liked to have killed the animal instantly, such a thing was not possible on this kind of hunt with this many people around.
He’d follow the blood trail in an hour or so. His arrow was in the animal and there were servants about to ensure that no one cheated. With a quick prayer up to Artemis in thanks for this auspicious gift, he urged his mount forward after looking around for Iason. Once he found him, he nodded to him, hoping his son would be even more successful.
He’d swung up onto the back of his black horse with its swath of red, looking every bit like blood leaking down the animal’s hindquarters. His red fletched arrows were nestled comfortably in the quiver on his back and his bow was ready in his free hand. They would travel into the forest, hopefully silently, and shoot to their heart’s content. This would not be a race. It would depend on whose eyes were sharpest.
Gavriil issued the signal and ended up following Irakles for the first minute or so. He nodded and smiled at the prince, who’d wounded a bird, but he did not stop. With a squeeze of his knees, he urged his mount forward. There was little reason to shoot at birds yet. What he wanted was something bigger; quite a bit bigger. A stag or a doe. A boar, even. Something to roast over a pit, whose skin or antlers or tusks could be displayed back home in his hall.
Despite his internal wish that this would be a quiet excursion, it was not. No one was silly enough to shout or laugh with each other, they were all a little more skilled than that, but so many horses crashing through underbrush, or the leaves being pushed around by hooves were sure to alert any game to their presence. Still, it wouldn’t matter as much as it normally might have, since the animals were being flushed out towards them. It was a trifle unfair, perhaps, but then, this was not a normal hunt. It was a celebration.
His gaze bounced from tree to bush and below and around. The wonder of the gods to make deer so hard to spot was extraordinary. When deer stood in a field, their form and skins were not necessarily well hidden. But the dull coat was an asset once among trees and rocks and leaves. It did not draw the eye the way vivid green leaves did, or exposed gray rock, or the rich black of the trunks. To spot a deer, the trick was to look between the distractions of color.
He sat straight up on the horse’s back, guiding only with his knees, an arrow nocked and ready to fly the second it was needed. But there was nothing at present. And then, he saw her. A doe. There were no antlers to display but this beast was large. Gavriil did not immediately raise his bow. The shot wasn’t good. It would be better to return home with his quiver still completely full than to give off a bad shot and merely wound the animal. She’d run off somewhere and die a horribly slow, painful death for absolutely no reason.
The bow swung up and the arrow shot out within nearly the same motion. Another zipped out from the same bow, following its brother. Both arrows shot past the doe and straight into the Buck he’d just seen directly behind her. She bolted but the buck was not so lucky. He watched calmly as the buck took off after the doe, but her mate was slower and would die soon. All Gavriil had to do was wait for the animal to expire. There was no reason to chase the thing down immediately. Both arrows had been lethal, and while he would have liked to have killed the animal instantly, such a thing was not possible on this kind of hunt with this many people around.
He’d follow the blood trail in an hour or so. His arrow was in the animal and there were servants about to ensure that no one cheated. With a quick prayer up to Artemis in thanks for this auspicious gift, he urged his mount forward after looking around for Iason. Once he found him, he nodded to him, hoping his son would be even more successful.
The Dimitrou family were known to be handy with the bow, Dorothea of Dimitrou even more so. But with her withheld from the Hunt by her own father, Irakles liked to imagine he had a chance, if a long shot. Gavriil of Dimitrou, while not someone he held in particularly high esteem, was still someone who deigned respect due to his position alone as a baron of a Taengean province. Not one to sever ties or burn bridges, Irakles was respectful to the family, father and son alike.
Used to being on the back of a horse in the middle of a war or battle however, the feeling whilst on a hunt was entirely different. In a campaign, his food was hunted by soldiers, and at home, the prince rarely had the leisure time to engage in a game hunt, so for a while, he merely enjoyed not riding for his life or wielding a weapon meant to murder humans for once, as the wind raked at his hair. He left the grouse he had shot for the servants to pick, for it was surely too injured to run now, and instead focused on hunt for more game - that was the aim of the game afterall.
But bigger game was where it was at. Irakles did not intend to completely ignore every game he went past though - but neither was he going to let the smaller ones past. Every little bit counts.
Slowing his mount down to slow canter as he drew up behind Gavriil, he watched as the baron sat straighter up on his horse's back and let an arrow fly, and then another from behind, to find its mark on a buck behind a doe he had missed. An impressed look crossed the prince's face, and he offered a smile to the Dimitrou baron, kicking into the sides of Aeneus again to continue the hunt, an event that would continue well into the evening.
By the time the sun began to dip below the horizon, the trail of servants which had been following behind the Taengean lords had thinned considerably, most following blood trails from the fallen game their masters had managed to mark and kill. Irakles himself had managed another grouse, and a few rabbit far from their warren and frightened into movement by their horses. While the prince would've loved to have bagged a boar with a new pair of tusks to display at home, Artemis was seemingly not smiling down on him as the hunters eventually called it quits and returned to the starting point where by then, pits of fire had been started, and the earlier game they had shot was now roasting over the flames. The smell of roasting meat greeted them as they returned, and Irakles smiled as servants came to fetch Aeneus as he dismounted.
Turning to greet the Dimitrou lords with a smile, Irakles extended a friendly hand to Gavriil, a relaxed and easy-going smile on his face as he spoke, "A beautiful hunt, Lord Gavriil. Your son is very skilled." he murmured, smiling at Iason. "I'm sure you are proud."
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The Dimitrou family were known to be handy with the bow, Dorothea of Dimitrou even more so. But with her withheld from the Hunt by her own father, Irakles liked to imagine he had a chance, if a long shot. Gavriil of Dimitrou, while not someone he held in particularly high esteem, was still someone who deigned respect due to his position alone as a baron of a Taengean province. Not one to sever ties or burn bridges, Irakles was respectful to the family, father and son alike.
Used to being on the back of a horse in the middle of a war or battle however, the feeling whilst on a hunt was entirely different. In a campaign, his food was hunted by soldiers, and at home, the prince rarely had the leisure time to engage in a game hunt, so for a while, he merely enjoyed not riding for his life or wielding a weapon meant to murder humans for once, as the wind raked at his hair. He left the grouse he had shot for the servants to pick, for it was surely too injured to run now, and instead focused on hunt for more game - that was the aim of the game afterall.
But bigger game was where it was at. Irakles did not intend to completely ignore every game he went past though - but neither was he going to let the smaller ones past. Every little bit counts.
Slowing his mount down to slow canter as he drew up behind Gavriil, he watched as the baron sat straighter up on his horse's back and let an arrow fly, and then another from behind, to find its mark on a buck behind a doe he had missed. An impressed look crossed the prince's face, and he offered a smile to the Dimitrou baron, kicking into the sides of Aeneus again to continue the hunt, an event that would continue well into the evening.
By the time the sun began to dip below the horizon, the trail of servants which had been following behind the Taengean lords had thinned considerably, most following blood trails from the fallen game their masters had managed to mark and kill. Irakles himself had managed another grouse, and a few rabbit far from their warren and frightened into movement by their horses. While the prince would've loved to have bagged a boar with a new pair of tusks to display at home, Artemis was seemingly not smiling down on him as the hunters eventually called it quits and returned to the starting point where by then, pits of fire had been started, and the earlier game they had shot was now roasting over the flames. The smell of roasting meat greeted them as they returned, and Irakles smiled as servants came to fetch Aeneus as he dismounted.
Turning to greet the Dimitrou lords with a smile, Irakles extended a friendly hand to Gavriil, a relaxed and easy-going smile on his face as he spoke, "A beautiful hunt, Lord Gavriil. Your son is very skilled." he murmured, smiling at Iason. "I'm sure you are proud."
The Dimitrou family were known to be handy with the bow, Dorothea of Dimitrou even more so. But with her withheld from the Hunt by her own father, Irakles liked to imagine he had a chance, if a long shot. Gavriil of Dimitrou, while not someone he held in particularly high esteem, was still someone who deigned respect due to his position alone as a baron of a Taengean province. Not one to sever ties or burn bridges, Irakles was respectful to the family, father and son alike.
Used to being on the back of a horse in the middle of a war or battle however, the feeling whilst on a hunt was entirely different. In a campaign, his food was hunted by soldiers, and at home, the prince rarely had the leisure time to engage in a game hunt, so for a while, he merely enjoyed not riding for his life or wielding a weapon meant to murder humans for once, as the wind raked at his hair. He left the grouse he had shot for the servants to pick, for it was surely too injured to run now, and instead focused on hunt for more game - that was the aim of the game afterall.
But bigger game was where it was at. Irakles did not intend to completely ignore every game he went past though - but neither was he going to let the smaller ones past. Every little bit counts.
Slowing his mount down to slow canter as he drew up behind Gavriil, he watched as the baron sat straighter up on his horse's back and let an arrow fly, and then another from behind, to find its mark on a buck behind a doe he had missed. An impressed look crossed the prince's face, and he offered a smile to the Dimitrou baron, kicking into the sides of Aeneus again to continue the hunt, an event that would continue well into the evening.
By the time the sun began to dip below the horizon, the trail of servants which had been following behind the Taengean lords had thinned considerably, most following blood trails from the fallen game their masters had managed to mark and kill. Irakles himself had managed another grouse, and a few rabbit far from their warren and frightened into movement by their horses. While the prince would've loved to have bagged a boar with a new pair of tusks to display at home, Artemis was seemingly not smiling down on him as the hunters eventually called it quits and returned to the starting point where by then, pits of fire had been started, and the earlier game they had shot was now roasting over the flames. The smell of roasting meat greeted them as they returned, and Irakles smiled as servants came to fetch Aeneus as he dismounted.
Turning to greet the Dimitrou lords with a smile, Irakles extended a friendly hand to Gavriil, a relaxed and easy-going smile on his face as he spoke, "A beautiful hunt, Lord Gavriil. Your son is very skilled." he murmured, smiling at Iason. "I'm sure you are proud."
The prince might not have been entirely satisfied with the way the hunt had turned out but Gavriil certainly was. He rode just behind Irakles and nearly smiled. To those who knew him best, the corners of his mouth that were raised to keep his lips in a line, rather than downcast, this was a nearly jovial expression. His servants would be bringing back a doe, several fowl, and that boar the prince had so wanted. If he could have respected the prince more, he would have made a gift of the boar's head for the prince. But, as it stood, he respected Irakles's station and his title, but not the man himself. Their disagreement about how to treat their fellow man varied too greatly for there to exist any real friendship, aside from an acquaintance level of polite banter.
Once out in the open, he rode his horse around to the participants, shaking hands with those who were not as successful and calling everyone to dismount from their horses. He led the way by example and when he turned, he found prince Irakles congratulating him on the hunt, as well as Iason’s skill. The baron smiled gravely and turned to look around for his son.
“I confess that I am,” he said with a quiet pride. “I have been amply blessed by the gods through Iason and my daughters.” With the mention of the latter two, he opened his arm. “Please? I believe Dorothea has probably long finished with the evening meal. I do not guard her quite as a should, perhaps. She will have endless questions about our hunt. Georgios? Please join us?”
He motioned to the Leventi lord, wanting to have a buffer between himself and the prince.
“Gladly!” Georgios smiled as he dismounted his own horse. The man hadn’t done quite as well as the other two but Gavriil did not truly expect anyone but himself, Iason, or Dorothea to be as good at the hunt. Therefore, it was no disappointment to him that they didn’t do half so well as they would have liked. Iason was better than these two and had gotten to the animals first.
Walking all of them over to the fire where Dorothea stood, he had them all settle and, as the evening progressed, found himself laughing at some of the stories they told from years past. Nothing could beat the one where a pompous lord had slipped straight off his horse and into a mud pool, coming out totally brown and spitting with anger. Normally Gavriil did not laugh at such things, but the evening was warm, the day had been fine, and he was well and truly happy.
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The prince might not have been entirely satisfied with the way the hunt had turned out but Gavriil certainly was. He rode just behind Irakles and nearly smiled. To those who knew him best, the corners of his mouth that were raised to keep his lips in a line, rather than downcast, this was a nearly jovial expression. His servants would be bringing back a doe, several fowl, and that boar the prince had so wanted. If he could have respected the prince more, he would have made a gift of the boar's head for the prince. But, as it stood, he respected Irakles's station and his title, but not the man himself. Their disagreement about how to treat their fellow man varied too greatly for there to exist any real friendship, aside from an acquaintance level of polite banter.
Once out in the open, he rode his horse around to the participants, shaking hands with those who were not as successful and calling everyone to dismount from their horses. He led the way by example and when he turned, he found prince Irakles congratulating him on the hunt, as well as Iason’s skill. The baron smiled gravely and turned to look around for his son.
“I confess that I am,” he said with a quiet pride. “I have been amply blessed by the gods through Iason and my daughters.” With the mention of the latter two, he opened his arm. “Please? I believe Dorothea has probably long finished with the evening meal. I do not guard her quite as a should, perhaps. She will have endless questions about our hunt. Georgios? Please join us?”
He motioned to the Leventi lord, wanting to have a buffer between himself and the prince.
“Gladly!” Georgios smiled as he dismounted his own horse. The man hadn’t done quite as well as the other two but Gavriil did not truly expect anyone but himself, Iason, or Dorothea to be as good at the hunt. Therefore, it was no disappointment to him that they didn’t do half so well as they would have liked. Iason was better than these two and had gotten to the animals first.
Walking all of them over to the fire where Dorothea stood, he had them all settle and, as the evening progressed, found himself laughing at some of the stories they told from years past. Nothing could beat the one where a pompous lord had slipped straight off his horse and into a mud pool, coming out totally brown and spitting with anger. Normally Gavriil did not laugh at such things, but the evening was warm, the day had been fine, and he was well and truly happy.
The prince might not have been entirely satisfied with the way the hunt had turned out but Gavriil certainly was. He rode just behind Irakles and nearly smiled. To those who knew him best, the corners of his mouth that were raised to keep his lips in a line, rather than downcast, this was a nearly jovial expression. His servants would be bringing back a doe, several fowl, and that boar the prince had so wanted. If he could have respected the prince more, he would have made a gift of the boar's head for the prince. But, as it stood, he respected Irakles's station and his title, but not the man himself. Their disagreement about how to treat their fellow man varied too greatly for there to exist any real friendship, aside from an acquaintance level of polite banter.
Once out in the open, he rode his horse around to the participants, shaking hands with those who were not as successful and calling everyone to dismount from their horses. He led the way by example and when he turned, he found prince Irakles congratulating him on the hunt, as well as Iason’s skill. The baron smiled gravely and turned to look around for his son.
“I confess that I am,” he said with a quiet pride. “I have been amply blessed by the gods through Iason and my daughters.” With the mention of the latter two, he opened his arm. “Please? I believe Dorothea has probably long finished with the evening meal. I do not guard her quite as a should, perhaps. She will have endless questions about our hunt. Georgios? Please join us?”
He motioned to the Leventi lord, wanting to have a buffer between himself and the prince.
“Gladly!” Georgios smiled as he dismounted his own horse. The man hadn’t done quite as well as the other two but Gavriil did not truly expect anyone but himself, Iason, or Dorothea to be as good at the hunt. Therefore, it was no disappointment to him that they didn’t do half so well as they would have liked. Iason was better than these two and had gotten to the animals first.
Walking all of them over to the fire where Dorothea stood, he had them all settle and, as the evening progressed, found himself laughing at some of the stories they told from years past. Nothing could beat the one where a pompous lord had slipped straight off his horse and into a mud pool, coming out totally brown and spitting with anger. Normally Gavriil did not laugh at such things, but the evening was warm, the day had been fine, and he was well and truly happy.