RE: Wings of Fury 2
07-05-2021, 11:04 PM
As the dragon roared, Guillairme spared a moment to pat poor Brulie's nose soothingly, bidding her wait off the side of the road. She was a donkey and he hadn't tied her up, so who knew if she would heed, but that was all he had time for.
A man on foot can scarcely keep up with a charging warhorse. Slowing him down further, it seemed Guillairme had some rite to conduct, as he drew his mace once more and raised his voice more loudly than anyone here (save perhaps Sir Henry) had ever heard him speak. "ATTEND," the rich and resonant voice commanded, ringing through the trees. "THE RED THORN RIDES TO BATTLE, 'GAINST A FOE OF FIRE AND MALICE. LORD MASHELE, WITNESS HIS VALOR! LORD RAMAY, GUIDE HIS STEP!" With that he fell momentarily silent and put his breath towards making it to the field in a timely manner.
Upon making it to the field's edge, that announcement got a brief reprise, though he tucked the mace away once more. "ALL WHO ATTEND; BE THOU WELCOME, BE THOU PLEASED, PRAY SHOW SIR HENRI THY FAVOR!" And so saying, the donkey jawbone came into play, as Guillairme called up the invigorating rhythm of the Fourth Song, seeming to rest his voice for the most part as he kept it to a gentle hum.
For those who could hear the song, were near enough to feel it, it was...to put it kindly, it was lacking. At your average festival an officiating priest could stir the blood such that the even the most decisively sedentary individuals would be left feeling the allure of vigorous physicality. But this...the effect was more akin to a leisurely sip of coffee in the early morning. A languid sort of vigor, arriving almost imperceptibly.
But Guillairme never claimed to be a master of this signature.
He was simply helping to keep time for another singer.
A man on foot can scarcely keep up with a charging warhorse. Slowing him down further, it seemed Guillairme had some rite to conduct, as he drew his mace once more and raised his voice more loudly than anyone here (save perhaps Sir Henry) had ever heard him speak. "ATTEND," the rich and resonant voice commanded, ringing through the trees. "THE RED THORN RIDES TO BATTLE, 'GAINST A FOE OF FIRE AND MALICE. LORD MASHELE, WITNESS HIS VALOR! LORD RAMAY, GUIDE HIS STEP!" With that he fell momentarily silent and put his breath towards making it to the field in a timely manner.
Upon making it to the field's edge, that announcement got a brief reprise, though he tucked the mace away once more. "ALL WHO ATTEND; BE THOU WELCOME, BE THOU PLEASED, PRAY SHOW SIR HENRI THY FAVOR!" And so saying, the donkey jawbone came into play, as Guillairme called up the invigorating rhythm of the Fourth Song, seeming to rest his voice for the most part as he kept it to a gentle hum.
For those who could hear the song, were near enough to feel it, it was...to put it kindly, it was lacking. At your average festival an officiating priest could stir the blood such that the even the most decisively sedentary individuals would be left feeling the allure of vigorous physicality. But this...the effect was more akin to a leisurely sip of coffee in the early morning. A languid sort of vigor, arriving almost imperceptibly.
But Guillairme never claimed to be a master of this signature.
He was simply helping to keep time for another singer.
~◕ w◕~