Umbra 10, 228: The Differing Tactics of Tyrel and Logen

The Differing Tactics of Tyrel and Logen
Summary: Logen and Tyrel catch up after Tyrel's return over a 'friendly' game of chess. Caillin visits while Logen is sleeping off the late night with his brother.
OOC Date: October 15, 2013 (OOC)
Related: None
Players:
Tyrel Logen Caillin 
Crown Prince's Office
A man's room. This spacious room is graced with a gorgeous view of the ocean. Three tall windows, topped with gorgeous stained glass look out over the harbour to east, and the ocean below. Dominating it is a truly massive, oaken desk, topped with assorted bits of small statuary and objects of art. The desk is ornately carved with an elegant vine pattern. Behind it is a rather grandiose throne of a chair, carved in a somewhat gothic style. What isn't wood is covered in black leather secured by silver studs. In front of the desk is a cluster of smaller black-leather chairs. The hardwood floor is covered in a thick purple rug with silver trim. A few silver candelabras spaced about the room in addition to a few wrought-iron wall sconces provide plenty of light. The walls are paneled two thirds of the way up the wall with a dark cherry wood. From there on up they are painted purple, and about a foot from the ceiling is silver stenciling. On one side of the room, a bookshelf lines the wall, from floor to ceiling. The shelf is filled with books from all across Daeren. A door leads to a private room for the Prince.
Umbra 10, 228

The sun has set and the castle, city are begining to quiet. In the offices of the crown prince Tyrel is looking over a chess set of carved stone. He carefully lays the king and queen of the white pieces to rest then slides the drawer holding the pieces into the carved block of stone that makes the board. He's just putting the board onto one of the shelves as Logen is announced. He walks over to the other set of shelves and pulls down a board that has seen a number of games. The top scuffed so that the silver and purple leather squares of the top are almost uniform in color. The pieces are cast in pewter, one set stained dark, the other shined bright but the years have turned them near to matching in color as well. He sets the board down and takes one of the smaller chairs setting the board the small table between the chairs. Then he awaits his brother's arrival.

There's a knock on the door, and should he been admitted Logen will enter and bow his head to his brother. "Brother, I know this will sound like women talk but I've missed far more than you can know. There is so much to speak about…" he sighs softly moving to a seat if invited to do so. He's come alone.

Tyrel waves Logen in without rising and gestures towards a seat, "Do not be so obviously defensive, brother, employ some guile…say instead; were I a woman, I'd be exclaiming that I'd missed you more than you could know." A smile ghosts across his lips, "Once the generals realize how often you play defensively they'll turn it against you if you do not employ distraction." He gestures to the chess board, "I believe it is your turn to go first, and that I won the last game we finished."

Logen moves a pawn forward, and smiles. "I suppose." he shifts slightly to get comfortable. "There's been so much you've missed brother, so much." he looks down for a moment, "Caitlyn and I were married finally, about two weeks after that terrible display at the joust. She's pregnant, though." he smiles at that.

Tyrel nods as he considers the board, then moves a pawn forward as well. "Being married to a man of our family seems to have that effect on a woman, light be praised." He rises then leaving Logen to consider the next move and pours two cups of drink. "The smile looks good on you, she pleases you?"

"Pleases me? You weren't here so you could not know the rumors… she shackled me to her bed for four days and had her way with me, brother. She did not let me leave. It was Lady Solara that discovered me, thankfully decent to a small degree, and I was finally released by my wife from my bonds… for a while." Logen smirks and starts to move his pieces as well.

Tyrel pauses and takes a drink, "I hope to hear that you endured this as an amusement." He then offers the other drink to Logen as he considers the board, "Though what amusement you derive from that is beyond me."

"It's thrilling, Tyrel, when the woman takes charge like that. We switch off being in control… it's so refreshing when she doesn't take no for an answer sometimes." Logen starts to explain, then stops. "I've said a bit much about that now. Onto other things… right, Roslin hates me. Won't listen to a word I try to say, she lectures me about things she doesn't understand, and she tries to usurp my rights as the naturally raised shield and sword of Mobrin." then he pauses, and looks across the table to share a secret.

Tyrel nods, "You've said far too much about it brother, but I'm glad you've found a woman who's temperament amuses you, just have a care you do not let it spill out of your bedroom and into the hallways again. What you do for your amusement in private is your concern, what makes you look foolish and weak and amuses others becomes my concern." He sips his drink making another move then discusses secretive matters as well.

Tyrel nods, "We will speak more of that when the time is right for it, for now we have friends to remember and strategies to lay to make certain no more of our friends and family are lost and our lands are secured. Besides, waging war against you is boring." He gestures to the board, "It requires a level of patience that can only be accomplished with suitable drink and comfortable chairs, facing you on a battlefield would be torturous."

"Well, yes I suppose it would be. I'd win by default." Logen smirks, "I am angered by the news of Sutherland, of Trueborn. Our cousin, and my brother and sister in law… slain by Laniveer or pirates. I say we slay the usurper king, then hunt down any pirates and cripple them to the point they start begging for our mercy… make them hope we'll grant it then snuff the lights from their eyes." Logen's grip had tightened on his piece for a moment, a flicker of cold ice in his blue eyes, but he regains control. A control that's been around for years, almost five to be exact.

Tyrel is ready for the move and says, "Check." as he moves his Queen, "Your passion speaks well of you, brother, it was not a fate they deserved and we must see those who wounded our lands repaid many times over, but we must also have care that we do not rush forward blindly and allow another such attack. A defended city and castle should not have fallen, and our relatives should not have been so easily harmed."

Tyrel adds, "Check again."

"I agree, there were many knights of the Horse… how they were bested I will not understand. We've only a third of them here to serve as far as I know. I doubt father would have left him so unprotected. There must have been more to it than just a raid." Logen plays out his counters. Always a piece to place into defense and protected is his king's men. "We need to focus on things here at home though. I have been acting deputy, as you'd instructed before you left, I've trained the soldiery… I've chosen two hundred of the best of them that I'd like to lead myself when I help father take Laniveer back."

Tyrel nods, "The final decision will be father's, of course, but so long as you promise you will lead from your proper square I will not object. I think this time of peace has made us too…irresponsible with ourselves, and Cedric and his family may have paid the price for that."

"I will fight, brother. I am one of the greatest swordsmen in all Mobrin, perhaps even Laniveer. I am not arrogant, Lorcan has been a great opponent as he and I are quite evenly matched and I enjoy getting to spar with him, but you know my skills. You were there when the title of swords-master was granted me. I can use any blade, any weapon, I am equally trained in all, aside from my extreme mastery of swords. You know I fight defensively, use my opponents against themselves. I will lead my men, and fight with them… I wish, to try and take a castle if I can. It would a true test of my command, and then yes I would lead from my square." Logen makes his next move.

Tyrel smiles, "I do not doubt your skills, brother, I only caution you to remember that even the greatest of swordsmen can be felled by the meanest of archers should Inouv send an ill wind to guide the arrow." He gestures to the board, "When beside me, your place is here." He taps the bishops space, "When leading on your own, you are the king and the battle must move to you, not you to it." He rubs his chin, "Of course my wise words fall apart completely as I have a penchant for sending my Queen out to rampage through the battlefield…" He starts laughing then and takes a drink, "…if you are to ask me to take no more trips then I will ask you to be cautious in engaging only those who are worthy of your blade."

"Speak with father then, urge him to name me as high ranked commander for the troops. I don't need to be on the council, but he can give me a post that puts me just under you in command of the men." Logen states, "Roslin thinks I do nothing for the family and the people, she does not know that I go out dressed as a commoner and work with the engineers in building the defenses. She does not know that I walk the streets dressed as a Watchman in secret. Not even the captain knows that he's been ordering the prince around. He's a good commander, Laine, deserves more respect. She does not know that I am only waiting for father's decree to enact my emergency preparedness program for the citizens." Logen shakes his head gently, "We have such strife at home, and then a war to fight as well… I warn you brother, she will try to twist you against me. Try to belittle my name, my skills, and my devotions."

Tyrel chuckles, "Brother, if you continue lurking about in such a fashion I will begin to think you would due well as the Master of Spies. As for the role of commander, you will be sent where you are needed most, brother, whether that be high command over many troops or a special command over a select few I cannot yet see."

Tyrel adds, "And do no worry yourself overmuch of what our sister thinks, or at least let me hear from her what thoughts are racing 'round inside that head of hers. I had to send her away earlier and she looked fit to bite through her lip for want to tell me something, so I'm sure I will hear an earful when we have a moment to talk."

"I could do it, Master of Spies, I mean. I'm not a player of sneaking about. I have little in the ways of stealth training… but I could work subterfuge easily enough." Logen states, then your next words brings a nod. "Father wants me to try and get along with her, part of his conditions for my taking the Black Crown are that I do. It is just so difficult when she won't get over mine and Caitlyn's past transgressions. and looks beyond what she sees.

Tyrel laughs, not unkindly, "Brother, you have it in your head that you can do anything you set your mind to, and you have the strength of heart to accomplish it. We must keep you from becoming distracted so that you might accomplish a few truly great works rather than countless 'acceptable' works. If I have any advice or insight into how to resolve matters with Roslin I will after speaking with her I will let you know."

Tyrel rises, "I see victory in three, brother, but you've some ways to escape it still. I need to see to My Princess, I've no wish to rouse her ire to the point where she starts inquiring with your wife about where to acquire shackles." He laughs, "Take your time and make your move, we'll resume later."

…an hour later…

Tyrel walks back in looking over the board, "Did you move?"

Logen shakes his head, "Nope, not yet."

Tyrel chuckles, "See, maddening to do battle with, I would have had to disarm to relieve myself twice before battle was even met in ernest while you were doing something involving bulwarks."

Logen smirks, "Forgive me I take a little extra time to make sure that my infrastructure is prepared to handle an onslaught. Give me ten men of any skill and as many days to prepare and I'll hold out against an army of thousands."

Logen adds, "Tens of thousands if I can pick those ten."

Tyrel chuckles, "Now I have an image of you digging a hole, setting each of the men standing on eachother's shoulders and fighting like badgers as an army of thousands crowds round and gets their ankles stabbed trying to get you out of your hole."

Logen laughs, "Don't be rediculous. I'd get ten twelve foot spears, and dig a tunnel ten feet underground. Then have holes going to the surface, we'd run around and pop the spears up into the feet of the army."

Logen says, "Every march line would be stabbed in the groin where the armor is weakest and the wound does the most damage."

The chess game slows to a crawl as the brothers drink and joke, eventually Logen drifts off to sleep. Tyrel gives instruction that Logen not be disturbed and sends word to his wife so she does not worry.

…A few hours later as morning breaks…

The office of the crown prince has undergone a recent whirlwind of activity since his abrupt return. Everything is a few inches out of place due to the cleaning and re-ordering. Tyrel, however, is in his usual place, seated on his throne-like chair with a scroll unrolled in his lap. Logen has nodded off in a chair facing a chess board. It is almost comical how easy it is to see which sides the brother's have played. Logen's defensive but uncrackable huddle of pieces against Tyrel's wide ranging intrusive tactics.

Tyrel looks up as the guards shift to subtly announce a guest arriving who needs no introduction. His soft blue eyes are dark from lack of sleep and his face has the shallow look of one who has been on the road and eating lightly. He sets the scroll aside and runs a hand through his short hair to be sure of the part just as the guest enters.

Caillin's flaxen curls are falling down on her shoulders freely. Her velvet gown with wide sleeves is very elegant, even if the dress is not close-fitting, as usually. Though, it has plunging neckline, decorated with a small line of jewels. The garment is not very tight near the waist, but has the cords of the prominent lacing in the bustier area. However, the first thing what a curious look can catch is incredibly small, but vivid patterns on the light pleated skirt layered with a black veil.

The young baroness steps inside quite shyly, quickly offering a deep curtsy, "Your Highness…" she whispers and raises her unusually pale face to the man, letting quite warm smile out.

The same is done by girl's handmaiden Gaela, who quickly retreats in the darker corner, just to study her lady and be there if needed. Gaela looks a bit worried.

"I got your message, brother, I am glad to see you back. How was… That island?" soft voice whispers.

Tyrel rises and moves from behind the desk as Caillin dips in her curtsy. "The island, was the island." He explains non-commitally, "However of more immediate import, I was savagely reminded on the travel back that it has been far too long since I have done this." So saying he moves close and gives her a quick embrace. Careful of her garment and fineries, of course, but a heartfelt hug all the same without the stilted stiffness of those done for show at formal events.

The embrace, for which young girl had to wait so long, surprises her and Caillin just stands there, not knowing what to do. However, it lasts just a few seconds, until the little philanthropic heart raises girl's arms and she hugs Tyrel as firmly, as she was used to do, when she was little, when she adored her brother. She does that still, after all!

"Tyrel…" she whispers, cuddling her head near the strong man's chest and actually, trying not to let that hug be quick or brief. However, she is adult now, she must withdraw from her brother without any wish. Grey eyes find his, "We all missed you soo much. I missed you. So much happened!.. I came back, just a few days ago, from Dellhaven. From my new home! That is just beautiful place, but.. How is your wife?.. Will you stay here longer now?"

Tyrel smiles and gives Caillin a squeeze then steps back and straightens his attire, "I missed you all as well, but there were many things to be done, and more now than before. Ciarrah and I only had a short time to speak last evening before sleep overtook me, but she seems well as does my child." He looks her over carefully then his hand reaching out to touch her chin as he leans to one side then the other studying her face, "You are pale, I know that wounded were brought in on the ships…you have not been working yourself too hard again have you?"

Tyrel looks over to Gaela as he waits for Caillin's response, looking for sign that her highness has been overdoing it.

Caillin tries to avoid eye contact for some reason. "I… Actually, I was just visiting some orphans. I missed them as they missed me, brother. I wasn't here for like ten days! But that is just it… I guess, I just need to eat. Better tell me how…"

But she is interrupted by Gaela's sniff. She steps outside from the shadows and offers deep curtsy, "Your Highness… I am so sorry, but… I just can't ask her to rest. My lady was visiting not just orphans, but also beggars, temple's infirmary, and she even visited like twenty houses. Just to speak with commoners or help them, while she should rest, because her pregnancy is quite hard. Each morning…"

"Gaela!" first time in her life, Caillin raises her voice. "Could you… Just…" and she waves with her hand for Gaela to step aside. The young baroness lowers her gaze and stares at the skirt of her dress. "I am good, brother…"

Tyrel starts chuckling as Gaela rats out her highness, "I expected you'd be doing too much…" he starts talking over the maid until she hits the bit about the pregnancy being hard, then the crown prince goes rather quiet. "Caillin, you're with child?" He hefts one of the paperweights and glances towards Logen, "You…" he mutters giving obvious consideration to heaving the weight at his brother. "Caillin, I'm sorry, someone neglected to mention the happy news when briefing me last night or I would have congratulated you already." He steps forward to take her hand, "You've a husband now so I'll yell at him about not keeping you more comfortable and rested, but I will ask you, for my sake, to listen to your maid's advice when she tells you it is time to rest."

The sleeping Logen remains blissfully unaware how close his leathers came to being tested against Tyrel's throwing arm.

The young girl chuckles and lots of sparkles start dancing in her gaze. She nods her head, letting these flaxen curls sway playfully around. "Almost third month, brother. And this little boy gives me lots of trouble. I am sure, he will be real troublemaker!" chuckles the young girl, "I am sure it is a boy. I think so. I guess my beloved husband would be happy, that it would be a boy…"

When she starts speaking about her husband, these sparkles in girl's eyes become even more vivid. Girl squeezes Tyrel's hand more firmly, "I still did not get a chance to thank you properly. I know, I was quite a disappointment, when… I ran around all crying and angry, but actually… The husband, who you found for me is just perfect. I am the happiest woman in the world and I must say thank you, for that. You and our mother…"

All the sparkles fades quite quickly and girl sighs. "I haven't seen mother and father for so long…" But she shakes these flaxen curls and gets her happines back. "Do not yell at my Ruthgar or I will come to yell at you," she laughs, "But I promise. I will try to rest more, but you know me…"

However, girl sighs once more and quite worried gaze finds Tyrel's eyes, "But tell me… The rumors about upcomming war, is it really comming? Will it be as dangerous as they say? We lost our navy?.."

ZZZZZZZZZ. CRASH! Logen rocks forward out of his chair and into the floor. In a springing leap he's on his feet as though he meant to do that, but the startled look in his eyes says otherwise. His leathers creak slightly and his cloak flutters wildly. He looks around, "Oh, my move again." first thing he notices is chess. Then, "Caillin! Hi. How are you feeling? How's the baby?" a glance, "Gaela, good to see you again." then he looks to Tyrel, "You didn't have Deekes or a guard drag me off? I'm touched… though I should find a ladie's looking silver to check for charcoal mustashes and other things."

Tyrel nods and chuckles as Caillin grows excited, "I do know you, sister, and I know you care far too much about the well-being of others to put your child at risk by indulging yourself in your charities when you should be seeing to his health and comfort." He shakes his head as she speaks of the war, "I've not heard the rumors so I cannot tell you the truth of…" He turns to look over at Logen his chuckle roaring into a laugh, "I missed you too much to be parted with you for so simple a reason as your snoring. It's still your turn again, by the way, and Roslin hasn't visited me yet so your cheeks and lip are bare of anything that you did not grow on your own."

Tyrel pauses, "Caillin, with child, should sit…Gaela you're to remind me of such things until the happy news has fully settled in my mind, I've kept her standing too long already."

Caillin gasps at Logen. He frightenes the girl quite well. "Oooh… Logen, thank you, everything is good…" The young baroness stares at the second brother a few moments as he would be a ghost, when finally she starts chuckling. Likely, understanding what just happened.

Gaela curtsies once more, when the Prince speaks with her. "Or, actually…" she takes out a parchment and starts reading, "She should go to eat, pay a visit for the roayl healer, have some beauty sleep, continue her piano lessons," she raises her gaze at the Prince and explains, "Music is just a perfect medicine for the mother and for the child. Also… Well, my lady, could we better…"

Caillin starts laughing even more. She takes a few steps to palce a peck on Tyrel's cheek.Then she does the same to Logen. Then she curtsies, "If I won't listen for my Gaela… It will be pretty bad. She is like dragon, when she is angry," laughs girl, "I hope to meet you two soon again. Have a nice match in chess," and the young baroness leaves.

Tyrel smiles as their sister is escorted out of the room then idly comments, "I think we should name a balista after Gaela if she manages to keep Caillin in line during the pregnancy. We'd never need worry of approach on the side it faces for stories of it's fearsomeness."

Logen laughs and nods, "Yes. Though I like chuckles for a trebuchet name."

Tyrel grins, "That is absolutely terrible, you should tell that to father at dinner some evening."

"I've been contemplating getting dyes made for several stones to be painted with a bright and smiling face. A sort of warm welcome. That or flaming wicker heads filled with cooking grease. Either or."

Logen adds after a moment, "I like the idea of sending messages long distance like that."

Tyrel sets his fingers on his forehead and shakes his head as his brother's inventive streak goes down a twisty path again, "I cannot decide if there is something fantastically wrong, or terribly right with you at times." He settles back on his throne-like chair then pushes off again as another move is made to come inspect the board. "How are the defenses looking these days?"

"We have bulwarks in place to the north and south of the city. Initially I tried to work with your plan to keep a direct line open south to Sutherland. But as I'd pointed out to Roslin when she dropped that little tidbit, it would take too much man power. Instead I've worked it out that we have trebuchet lined along the coastal regions to the north and south to drive the enemy as far from Darfield as possible without thinning the line too much. The city itself is prepared, the main roads in and out are walked by Watchmen and soldiers, the main road to the castle is walked by soldiers and a few knights. We have hundreds of men camped in different locales ready for march, with our main army camped to the north. Roughly five thousand, if my report numbers are correct. And a few thousand on the move from camp to camp. I've not let them sit in one place for too long and always they march in lines that seem larger in number than they are. If a spy were to view them from afar, their counts would never match up and be roughly twice what the truth is."

Tyrel nods, "Excellent, be sure that the everyone is aware of their levies and that all units have been confirmed as able and armed. For those that have not already been called up I want a review tour made. We'll want the harvests brought in as early as possible but so long as the levies are seen to be in good standing we will wait to call them up. Be certain that everyone aware if thier men do not appear to be able, armed, and have rudimentary understanding they will be called up earlier so they have time to train and arm as they should have done already."

Tyrel rubs his chin, "Wasn't anticipating that move…"

Logen chuckles, "I'm not always a predictable general."

Tyrel nods, "I think the smiley faces loaded into Chuckles the trebuchet hints at that, brother."

Logen laughs, "Burning wicker heads filled with cooking grease, and potpourri. Don't forget potpourri." he grins.

Tyrel nods, "I will remember you enjoy a lightly scented battlefield."

Logen says, "Thank you, never anything wrong with setting the stage properly." Logen smirks slightly, "I'd wondered about plated skirts for the men, so we can shake our ballocks at the enemy on the field. Show them how little we're afraid of them.""

Tyrel laughs, "You're talking like an infantryman, what would the other knights think if we were to jape in such a way before honorable battle?"

Logen shakes his head, "That's just it, the Laniveer aren't honorable. And, I was thinking of getting some of the brothel workers out on the field scantily clad to wave Mobrin flags around and dance a little. Might cause a night distraction for the enemy and boost the spirits of our own men."

Logen smiles, "Clearly you realize I am joking."

Tyrel smiles, "Clearly…why bother with even scanty clothing when none would be far more interesting."

Tyrel rolls his eyes and returns his attention to the board.

Tyrel moves another piece and indicates, "Check".

Tyrel slowly erodes the defensive fortifications of his brother, "If you have some strategem to surprise me, brother, we can continue, but I think this battle is mine."

Logen shrugs, "Perhaps, but this is a game. And while the implications are serious, there's no real overlay to the battle field tactics I would use."

Tyrel smiles, "Each battle has it's own rules, brother, this game grants both players the advantage and disadvantage of knowing all those rules in advance."

Tyrel nods, "Check."

Logen says, "This is true, and there is something to be said for causing irrecoverable losses. Even if you fail, that you cause the other to go down with you is a win."

Tyrel nods, "That is very true, however I think that is one of the lessons I've been taught recently. Certain things can be lost and regained, others once gone will never return."

Tyrel says, "Check."

Logen nods, "Yes. This is true, too true. Mate and match, here. I can move but it only prolongs and gains nothing." he stands, "I think spending the night here will have caused my wife to grow worried about me. Plus, I should take Duke out for a walk."

Tyrel nods, "An excellent game, though I think you've too much of your wife on your mind and it distracted you early on giving me some small advantage. Give her my greetings and do keep Duke out of your sister's flowers."

Tyrel chuckles, "Give your wife my greeting I mean, Duke I'll greet myself with a steak at dinner."

Logen chuckles, "I will, take care for now. I'll be about if you need me. Most often I am on the field directing troops or giving lessons in weapons and armor." with that he heads towards then out the door a moment later.

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