Threats Across the Sea, 1483

[Dirty Chai]

In the summer of 1483, an army has been grafted together, converging in the borderlands between the patrimonies of the Emperor of the Romans and the King of France - the army is under the pay and standard of Edward of Lancaster, who calls himself the rightful King of England by nature of his being the sole son and heir to Henry VI. The army amasses through Champagne and marches towards the borderlands of Brabant and Hainaut, aiming for the coastal lands of the Flems, where the cities grow fat and rebellious against the Dukes of Burgundy, Edward's enemy's ally.

Update: Upon receiving rejection by the Flems of Bruges and Antwerp to receive revolution against Dijon, Edward and his companions disappointingly order their host northwest into Normandy, to Ponthieu and Caen, to await some sort of arrangement to cross the Channel..

Under the banners of St George and the Red Rose of Edmund Crouchback:

• 400 Yeomen Foot
• 400 Yeomen Archers
• 500 Men-at-Arms
• 1,000 Horsemen
• 2,000 Halberdiers
• 1,500 Crossbowmen

Dramatis Personae:

• Edward of Westminster, King of England, Jerusalem, France, Ireland, and Naples
• Henry de Clifford, 11th Baron Clifford, Lord of Skipton, Lord of Appleby
• Edmund Beaufort, 4th Duke of Somerset, 2nd Marquess of Dorset, 6th Earl of Somerset, and 20th Earl of Warwick
• George de Vere, brother to Aubrey de Vere, 13th Earl of Oxford
• Richard de Montferrand (?)

[The Mad Skylord]

Henry, Baron de Clifford, was cheerful even with the rejection of the Flems. He was essentially leading the army, and he'd received a fine new suit of steel plate, in the latest European fashion. Of course, he had a tabard to go over the top, so he could proudly display exactly who he was, but the intricate armour was a very fine piece and he was delighted with it. He ambled along to the King of England's pavilion, seeking out the Red Prince over a matter of some debate.

[Gandalfus]

Beaufort had procured some splendid plate of the Milanese fashion, his surcoat depicting the arms of Beaufort, Beauchamp and Guelders quartered. The Duke of Somerset's tent was also perhaps the most grandiose, with no expense spared: inside, Somerset and his attendants drank and gambled away the days they were not marching. When they were marching, he was usually at the King's side, assuming the arrogant air of self importance that the Lancastrians were by now all too used to. His own son usually followed him wherever he went, a skinny boy with longish dark hair. He was also called Edmund, and, like his father, resembled the King himself in appearance. Joan and her mother were with their new Queen, Eleanor. Despite the enmity between Percy and Beaufort, Joan as well as Margaret had established some kind of friendly rapport with the Plantagenet, their distant cousin in the paternal line.

[Mary The Quene]

Sir George Neville, after he had completed his mission, returned to the host of Lancastrians. Neville was particularly cheerful after he had done his job more than well in his own mind and thus so he immediately searched the king to report.

------

The Queen Eleanor had procured a new splendid dress worthy of a queen, the black colored gown was of Italian fashion (something she adopted from the king) and over that dress she wore a cloak dressed with red roses on it. When they were riding the queen found her in company of the Lady Guelders and her daughter, the lady Beaufort, whom she both had established friendly rapports with. But when they were not riding the queen could be always found in the close presence of her husband, the king.

[Gandalfus]

George is received by the Duke of Somerset, who was the natural barrier that apparently stood between any man and the King's presence. Beaufort greeed Neville with a squint.

"Oh, Neville."

Apparently it had taken some time to recognise him.

"What do you have to report?"

[Xion]

de Montferrand and his family would ride somewhere near the king's retinue, with Richard and his sons wearing plate armor and the ladies wearing a mixture of French or Italian courtly attire. The few retainers of Montferrand ride behind him, carrying the banners depicting the arms of his house and one bearing his wife's family's arms.

[Mary The Quene]

''Lord Somerset''

Said Neville with a slight bow and nod, Neville was particularly cheerful today.

''Holland may support us if we grant each of his sons some lands, Tudor may support us if we grant him lands, especially if they happen to be in Wales, De Vere will likely support us if our invasion goes well off, and friction withing house York seem to worsen day by day, Percy will ofcourse support us since he suffered an attainder'' Said Neville with a smile.

[Gandalfus]

"I see. So you openly canvassed support for us?"

Beaufort supposed it didn't matter now. They knew Lancaster was lying in wait from across the channel, and perhaps Neville's gossiping was putting the fear of God in them.

"Very good, the situation seems most promising. England appears ripe for invading."

[Mary The Quene]

''Indeed, that wretched house York is disintegrating day by day, much to my delight ofcourse''

Said Neville with a laugh, he had no doubt they would soon be victorious.

''Soon you will recover all of your lands from those who occupy it'' Complimented Neville, after all those years of hardships, would they finally return to England victorious?

[The Mad Skylord]

One fair Normandy evening, a certain Baron knelt down in prayer next to a certain Lady Joan Beaufort. He shifted uncomfortably before the altar, before speaking quietly.

"If any of mine actions have cause thee offence, Lady Beaufort, I do apologise to thee most profusely."

[Gandalfus]

''Indeed, that wretched house York is disintegrating day by day, much to my delight ofcourse''

Said Neville with a laugh, he had no doubt they would soon be victorious.

''Soon you will recover all of your lands from those who occupy it'' Complimented Neville, after all those years of hardships, would they finally return to England victorious?

"The House of York shall pay for its treachery."

Vowed Beaufort, suddenly a great deal more serious.

"Come, you should see the King. He has been waiting for you."

One fair Normandy evening, a certain Baron knelt down in prayer next to a certain Lady Joan Beaufort. He shifted uncomfortably before the altar, before speaking quietly.

"If any of mine actions have cause thee offence, Lady Beaufort, I do apologise to thee most profusely."

"Offence? What offence?"

Joan peered at him through dark eyes, pensively. She seemed a little surprised that Clifford was here, speaking to her, of all people. Usually the Baron busied himself with the King.

[Mary The Quene]

"The House of York shall pay for its treachery."

Vowed Beaufort, suddenly a great deal more serious.

"Come, you should see the King. He has been waiting for you."

''To the king then''

Said Neville with a smile after which he followed Somerset to the king.

[The Mad Skylord]

Clifford looked at her with an edge of surprise. Suddenly, he was a little tied for words, so he instead spoke quickly.

"I thought you held your father's brutally low opinion of me, to be honest." The moment he said it he realised how silly it sounded. Had they ever had reason to talk? "Regardless, I did not like the thought of meeting my demise on perhaps worse terms with you than I would like..."
He realised he was rambling and his words drew to a halt as a slight flush crept up his features.

[Gandalfus]

"Why are you so concerned with my opinion of you, my lord?

Joan's lips curled upward into a teasing smirk.

"Do you think highly of me, I wonder?"

[The Mad Skylord]

Clifford winced inside of his mind. Damn. He had seen enough of war in Italy to know that he had manipulated himself into an odd situation. Made worse by the fact Somerset could race through the doors at any second with drawn steel and with his latest fashion disheveled with his rage.

"Quite, my Lady." Simplicity is best, Harry, simplicity is best.

[Gandalfus]

"Only quite? Well my lord, I am in turn quite offended at how lowly you think of me."

Somerset's daughter turned away from him with a mocking look of disappointment, piously return to her prayers. Perhaps Clifford would think she was ignoring him...?

[Barry Goldwater]

George de Vere arrives at Caen with the Hansa agreements in tow, looking mighty pleased with himself. He carried himself with such confident swagger that it was hard to tell if he was drunk or sober - certainly, the night after he secured Hanseatic aid was a night he couldn't remember on account of having downed so much liquor that he blacked out, though according to one of his female companions he had at least ranted about Jewish conspiracies to poison people's booze for no readily apparent reason. Still, he retained enough presence of mind to kneel before his King, which was a good thing because the first thing he did upon sighting the Lancastrian army's tents and banners was to make a beeline for Edward.

[The Mad Skylord]

Clifford ran around panicking inside his head. Despite his worry, he had the sense to stop and think for a moment, the chance to regain his senses. Regardless of the odd footing upon which he stood, Clifford almost found a smile.

"I regret to inform you, Lady Beaufort, that I do not have the skill that noble Chaucer had when it comes to words, perhaps, I may have done some injustice to the height of you in my thoughts."

He turned a half teasing look back in the Beaufort girl now, knowing it was go bug or go home and that she was probably just teasing - Joan Beaufort had a reputed talent for mockery.

"I could borrow the words of Chaucer, or perhaps the Trimming Duke - who's reputation is one of the skilled charmer - but I do not think I would do them or your noble self justice, m'lady"

[Gandalfus]

"You are noble to say so, my lord of Clifford."

She accepted the complimenyt with grace. At least he seemed to be less of a deviant than the King, who was much more coarse in his choice of flattery.

"When you go into battle against the traitors of York, I shall certainly keep you in my prayers. You shall need it; all the ladies have been gossiping about your skills in battle against our King, Edward."

And how Clifford had been given a good hiding. Beaufort gave an innocent smile.

[The Mad Skylord]

Clifford raised an eyebrow, but couldn't help the low chuckle. "It is kind of you to say so, Lady Beaufort, I must admit that dueling a man of the King's talent was perhaps a foolish occupation."

It was an amusing dig, but Clifford had every intention of allowing the soldiers to do that work for him.

"It is kind of you to say so, but I admit, I am much relieved. I am relieved no to be facing you in battle, my lady, for if you wielded a sword with the speed and accuracy that you wield your tongue with... well you would be a dangerous foe indeed."