The Army of North Wales

[General Brewster]

”He can serve in my household if he so wishes.”

Offered the King, apparently suspecting nothing. Then, he turned to others present, all gathered around himself.

”I desire nothing less than the subjugation of Powys and the homage of the king of Gwynedd. We may face them in the field, but my first goal shall be to create a new frontier with the Welsh kings.”

His followers would naturally be rewarded with the lands conquered.

Both Mowbray smiled, Lord Mowbray now had an opening at the courts. Now he could start planning his next move.
"It's an honor Your Grace." Roger de Mowbray said with the older Lord Mowbray interjecting "An honor indeed your grace. Now have you considered your apperouch in the campaign yet?" He asked.

Gerald d'Avranches arrives to the meeting, Having been delayed seeing to the construction of new castles along the Welsh border.

Approaching the entrance, he hastily steps out of the way as Mar darts out. Entering the tent, he spots the king leaning over a long table, De Lacy and Mowbray already present. Catching Mowbrays eye he gives a nod before turning back to the king who seemed to have finally notice his presence. "Your grace, I must apologize for my lateness. I was returning from Flint when a rider found me." Gerald felt sorry for the strain he had put his horse through.

"I was seeing to the hiring of builders for defenses along the border. You can rest assured our rear will be secured" It would still be another year before they were complete, Gerald hoped the Welsh didn't try anything before that.

Deciding to shift things to business. "Now, I was told this was to be a war council. Has something new happened?" Whatever it was was likely to be important.

Mowbray gave a slight not at d'Avranches eye catching. It was good to see familiar company he thought to himself.

"Very good. I do not think that we will go unnoticed here for long. I will have the sentries doubled, for though the scouts have returned with nothing of use I find it difficult to believe the enemy is completely unready."

Edgar had been perplexed by the lack of information delivered to him by his outriders. Though their position was reasonably fortified, he did not want to wake up one day with a welsh dagger at his throat. It was better to be prepared.

"From here, we will raid the surrounding lands, and perhaps come to terms. If we must face them in battle, then so be it."

---

The King indicated via message that he will meet Rhys in Powys, where the English have made their encampment. Though it goes without saying, Edgar recommends travelling by ship, for the entire kingdom of Gwynedd lies between the two overland.

OOC: I'll see this as a reply to Mowbray as well.

Mowbray nodded as he looked at the map while the King was outlining a strategy.
"Perhaps we should institute a curfew as well your Grace. Giving a tighter grip on movement inside the camp." Mowbray was paranoid


-----------

A the meeting wrapped up Mowbray tried to step aside but saw de Clare stomping his foot, almost prompting to make him fall over.

"What is this nonsense de Clare?! If you wish to fight it you can ask it you beast without honor" Mowbray fumed at this cheap blow. He turned to the king before turning to de Clare once more "I formally challenge thee to a duel! That you may acquire the honor you lack so much."

[Lord William]

A the meeting wrapped up Mowbray tried to step aside but saw de Clare stomping his foot, almost prompting to make him fall over.

"What is this nonsense de Clare?! If you wish to fight it you can ask it you beast without honor" Mowbray fumed at this cheap blow. He turned to the king before turning to de Clare once more "I formally challenge thee to a duel! That you may acquire the you lack so much."

Gilbert turned to Edgar
Do I have your permission to thrash this imbecile, your Grace?

[Gandalfus]

“What madness is this? God’s peace binds us, and good christians should not spill each other’s blood.”

Edgar interjcted, the altercation having commanded his attention. A great frown wracked his face.

“Settle it if you must, but I will not tolerate the spilling of blood. First to draw it shall consider their honour sated, and ask forgiveness of God for your sin.”

[General Brewster]

Mowbray bowed before the King. "I thank you my Lord. May you enjoy the entertainment and I swear I will not kill him on purpose. First blood it is."

[Trot]

The duel begins quickly neither side able to gain a clear upper hand. De Clare takes an early lead the man managing to break through the mans defenses, then Mowbray recovers managing to get a upper hand and pushing de Clare back. Both men put on a good show, but both are looking tired and worn out, but de Clare notices as the duel commences that Mowbray is not aiming to wound he wants to kill.

The King notices nothing unusual about the duel.

ooc You are both about done the duel will be decided by the next roll. If de Clare loses he dies now is your chance to yield, if neither party yields the roll will decide it.

[General Brewster]

Mowbray musters the power to break through de Clare's defense one more time and to mortally hit him. Being berserk and lost in the heat of the moment.

[Lord William]

If you want to kill me, you will have to try harder
Gilbert puts on a strong defence and counters with a stronger blow

[Trot]

Mowbray breaks through the defense of Gilbert de Clare. The mans sword cuts deep winning the fight and mortally wounding de Clare in the process, however the king watching knows that it was no accident that the mans sword cut deep. It was an intentional blow aimed to kill, the tragedy is the king noticed to late to stop it.

[Gandalfus]

"What in God's name?! This is murder!"

Edgar had been seated in a well placed curule chair so that he may observe the whole affair. At first, it was innocuous enough, with both men putting up an impressive fight. But there was no mistaking Mowbray's killing stroke. He had cleaved the king's own brother in twain, and poor Gilbert lay in the dirt choking on his own blood thanks to Mowbray's own steel. The King was gesticulating wildly, and his sworn men stepped forward, weapons drawn. One asked Mowbray to stand down.

"Someone, tend to Gilbert!"

The entire camp had descended into a whirlwind of panic. A dozen clerics rushed over to Gilbert's battered corpse... But it was too late. They would carry him off into the King's tent and administer the last rites. All that was left to do would be provide a christian burial.

[General Brewster]

Mowbray surrenders, in shock of what happened. Trembling he let his sword fall down.

[Lord William]

William yelled in anger
He should be executed and his lands given to Gilbert II of Shrewsbury

[Pericles of Athens]

Godwin had been confused by the entire ordeal, the stamping of feet was surly a strange thing to draw blades over, but perhaps these Continentals were simply a touchy sort. But, the King had arranged for the fight and Godwin had come, perching himself near Edgar. Truth be told Godwin had not been paying a great deal of attention toward the spectacle, at least not enough to notice anything particular about it. He simply sat there, calling early on for a cup of ale, which he enjoyed promptly in silence. Magnus on the other hand had gone off to watch the event with the rank and file, he wasn’t sure he exactly understood the Normans, but he was always interested in a good fight. And then it happened, the sword cut downward and slashed through the King’s brother by law.. a man Godwin had known well enough in their service to Edgar. In that moment the entire camp was set alight, the King was flailing about like a banner in the wind, his men drawing swords and the priests rushing toward the fallen man’s side. Madness. Godwin thought, allowing his hand to fall toward the pommel of his axe.

[Gandalfus]

"Silence!"

The King could barely contain his anger. This deception had not only made him look a fool, but cost the life of a man who had saved his own. He crossed over towards the muddied ground, now streaked with crimson, where Gilbert had fallen.

"I do not want to see this man again. Keep him under guard."

Edgar did not even look at Mowbray as he was led away. This had put his entire expedition into grave jeopardy. God had punished his folly severely, and he would have to pay penance for it. Perhaps invading the land of the Welsh had been a mistake.

"Begone, all of you! Give us peace!"

The rank and file were beaten back by the king's knights and housecarls. As the ruckus died down, an eerie quiet descended upon the encampment. The King returned to his tent, and knelt for some time in prayer over the battered body of his fallen brother, not wishing to be disturbed even by the closest members of his household. Mowbray was held in a randomly chosen tent, given broth and mead whilst his armour was stripped and cleaned. Two armed men stood with him inside, on edge after seeing him dispatch his former foe.

[General Brewster]

Roger wished to speak to the king when he was in the mood.

[Pericles of Athens]

Magnus was off quickly, making his way deeper into the camp, endeavoring after some low pursuit like gambling or women. Godwin gave his friend a solemn nod as Edgar sent them all away, he knew the King would need time now, that likely he blamed himself for all this as much as he blamed the killer Mowbray. Godwin wasn’t a man with a comforting demeanor either, so he held no fantasy that he could improve the King’s mood, he resolved to speak with him at a later date. As he made his way back to his small set of tents the Earl of Wessex wondered if all this had been punishment from God for invading Wales after all the Badger had died and now De Clare, if so the omens did not bode well for Godwin who’d betrayed his own allies by coming here.

[Gandalfus]

Roger wished to speak to the king when he was in the mood.

Late in the day, Mowbray is led to the King's tent. A monk had dressed him in a simple robe of sack cloth, thus he appeared not as a lord but as a simple man of God. Gilbert is lain upon a table, albeit his form is covered by a sheet to preserve his modesty. Preparations had begun to preserve him for burial. The King was seated upon a chair, surrounded by guards, glaring at Mowbray icily.

[Mary The Quene]

”He can serve in my household if he so wishes.”

Offered the King, apparently suspecting nothing. Then, he turned to others present, all gathered around himself.

”I desire nothing less than the subjugation of Powys and the homage of the king of Gwynedd. We may face them in the field, but my first goal shall be to create a new frontier with the Welsh kings.”

His followers would naturally be rewarded with the lands conquered.

Gerald d'Avranches arrives to the meeting, Having been delayed seeing to the construction of new castles along the Welsh border.

Approaching the entrance, he hastily steps out of the way as Mar darts out. Entering the tent, he spots the king leaning over a long table, De Lacy and Mowbray already present. Catching Mowbrays eye he gives a nod before turning back to the king who seemed to have finally notice his presence. "Your grace, I must apologize for my lateness. I was returning from Flint when a rider found me." Gerald felt sorry for the strain he had put his horse through.

"I was seeing to the hiring of builders for defenses along the border. You can rest assured our rear will be secured" It would still be another year before they were complete, Gerald hoped the Welsh didn't try anything before that.

Deciding to shift things to business. "Now, I was told this was to be a war council. Has something new happened?" Whatever it was was likely to be important.

"Very good. I do not think that we will go unnoticed here for long. I will have the sentries doubled, for though the scouts have returned with nothing of use I find it difficult to believe the enemy is completely unready."

Edgar had been perplexed by the lack of information delivered to him by his outriders. Though their position was reasonably fortified, he did not want to wake up one day with a welsh dagger at his throat. It was better to be prepared.

"From here, we will raid the surrounding lands, and perhaps come to terms. If we must face them in battle, then so be it."

"Aye, your grace, the Welsh have caused trouble enough with their raids"

They'd have to hold accountable for their raids or else these raids would just continue.

"Have our scouts gathered any information of use?" Best to not take any risks, so one could not be taken by surprise, he'd learned that from all the wars before.

A the meeting wrapped up Mowbray tried to step aside but saw de Clare stomping his foot, almost prompting to make him fall over.

"What is this nonsense de Clare?! If you wish to fight it you can ask it you beast without honor" Mowbray fumed at this cheap blow. He turned to the king before turning to de Clare once more "I formally challenge thee to a duel! That you may acquire the honor you lack so much."

Gilbert turned to Edgar
Do I have your permission to thrash this imbecile, your Grace?

“What madness is this? God’s peace binds us, and good christians should not spill each other’s blood.”

Edgar interjcted, the altercation having commanded his attention. A great frown wracked his face.

“Settle it if you must, but I will not tolerate the spilling of blood. First to draw it shall consider their honour sated, and ask forgiveness of God for your sin.”

Mowbray bowed before the King. "I thank you my Lord. May you enjoy the entertainment and I swear I will not kill him on purpose. First blood it is."

Mowbray musters the power to break through de Clare's defense one more time and to mortally hit him. Being berserk and lost in the heat of the moment.

If you want to kill me, you will have to try harder
Gilbert puts on a strong defence and counters with a stronger blow

"What in God's name?! This is murder!"

Edgar had been seated in a well placed curule chair so that he may observe the whole affair. At first, it was innocuous enough, with both men putting up an impressive fight. But there was no mistaking Mowbray's killing stroke. He had cleaved the king's own brother in twain, and poor Gilbert lay in the dirt choking on his own blood thanks to Mowbray's own steel. The King was gesticulating wildly, and his sworn men stepped forward, weapons drawn. One asked Mowbray to stand down.

"Someone, tend to Gilbert!"

The entire camp had descended into a whirlwind of panic. A dozen clerics rushed over to Gilbert's battered corpse... But it was too late. They would carry him off into the King's tent and administer the last rites. All that was left to do would be provide a christian burial.

Mowbray surrenders, in shock of what happened. Trembling he let his sword fall down.

William yelled in anger
He should be executed and his lands given to Gilbert II of Shrewsbury

Godwin had been confused by the entire ordeal, the stamping of feet was surly a strange thing to draw blades over, but perhaps these Continentals were simply a touchy sort. But, the King had arranged for the fight and Godwin had come, perching himself near Edgar. Truth be told Godwin had not been paying a great deal of attention toward the spectacle, at least not enough to notice anything particular about it. He simply sat there, calling early on for a cup of ale, which he enjoyed promptly in silence. Magnus on the other hand had gone off to watch the event with the rank and file, he wasn’t sure he exactly understood the Normans, but he was always interested in a good fight. And then it happened, the sword cut downward and slashed through the King’s brother by law.. a man Godwin had known well enough in their service to Edgar. In that moment the entire camp was set alight, the King was flailing about like a banner in the wind, his men drawing swords and the priests rushing toward the fallen man’s side. Madness. Godwin thought, allowing his hand to fall toward the pommel of his axe.

"Silence!"

The King could barely contain his anger. This deception had not only made him look a fool, but cost the life of a man who had saved his own. He crossed over towards the muddied ground, now streaked with crimson, where Gilbert had fallen.

"I do not want to see this man again. Keep him under guard."

Edgar did not even look at Mowbray as he was led away. This had put his entire expedition into grave jeopardy. God had punished his folly severely, and he would have to pay penance for it. Perhaps invading the land of the Welsh had been a mistake.

"Begone, all of you! Give us peace!"

The rank and file were beaten back by the king's knights and housecarls. As the ruckus died down, an eerie quiet descended upon the encampment. The King returned to his tent, and knelt for some time in prayer over the battered body of his fallen brother, not wishing to be disturbed even by the closest members of his household. Mowbray was held in a randomly chosen tent, given broth and mead whilst his armour was stripped and cleaned. Two armed men stood with him inside, on edge after seeing him dispatch his former foe.

Roger wished to speak to the king when he was in the mood.

Magnus was off quickly, making his way deeper into the camp, endeavoring after some low pursuit like gambling or women. Godwin gave his friend a solemn nod as Edgar sent them all away, he knew the King would need time now, that likely he blamed himself for all this as much as he blamed the killer Mowbray. Godwin wasn’t a man with a comforting demeanor either, so he held no fantasy that he could improve the King’s mood, he resolved to speak with him at a later date. As he made his way back to his small set of tents the Earl of Wessex wondered if all this had been punishment from God for invading Wales after all the Badger had died and now De Clare, if so the omens did not bode well for Godwin who’d betrayed his own allies by coming here.

Late in the day, Mowbray is led to the King's tent. A monk had dressed him in a simple robe of sack cloth, thus he appeared not as a lord but as a simple man of God. Gilbert is lain upon a table, albeit his form is covered by a sheet to preserve his modesty. Preparations had begun to preserve him for burial. The King was seated upon a chair, surrounded by guards, glaring at Mowbray icily.

"Oh God" Hugh muttered silently, while crossing himself. It seemed the expedition was not going well with Gerold confirmed death too. Perhaps a warning of God to not continue the campaign? He'd hold those two in his prayers now. He'd certainly hope his younger son was safe now with Gerold death, armies could always disintegrate when leaders die...

Late evening Hugh would try to approach the king to bring comfort if he so wanted. It was his duty to support his fellow christian brother when he needed the most and Hugh was never the one to forsake his duties....

[General Brewster]

Late in the day, Mowbray is led to the King's tent. A monk had dressed him in a simple robe of sack cloth, thus he appeared not as a lord but as a simple man of God. Gilbert is lain upon a table, albeit his form is covered by a sheet to preserve his modesty. Preparations had begun to preserve him for burial. The King was seated upon a chair, surrounded by guards, glaring at Mowbray icily.

Roger entered slowly, somewhat taken a back by the King's appearance. He had only just became member of the King's household and now his father found himself in quite the predicament. Roger wasn't exactly sure what to do. His father had placed him here with reason but he knew damn well that he needed his father. Even worse was that the other de Clare was probably plotting some form of revenge. Mowbray had imposing castles but with the troops here he could not hope to defend the estates.

"Your Grace" Roger eventually said while he bowed before the King who seemed struck with grief. "I wish to tell you once more that I feel honored by the position you have offered me." Roger was going to utilize the sandwich method. Good news, bad new, good news. Always works like a charm. After a small pause for dramatic effect Roger went on and said. "I..." Roger froze, perhaps he was concerned with the King's reply and could not further usher his sentence.

[Gandalfus]

"Oh God" Hugh muttered silently, while crossing himself. It seemed the expedition was not going well with Gerold confirmed death too. Perhaps a warning of God to not continue the campaign? He'd hold those two in his prayers now. He'd certainly hope his younger son was safe now with Gerold death, armies could always disintegrate when leaders die...

Late evening Hugh would try to approach the king to bring comfort if he so wanted. It was his duty to support his fellow christian brother when he needed the most and Hugh was never the one to forsake his duties....

Hugh finds the King with some clerics in prayer, a small shrine having been placed on the spot where Gilbert had died.

Roger entered slowly, somewhat taken a back by the King's appearance. He had only just became member of the King's household and now his father found himself in quite the predicament. Roger wasn't exactly sure what to do. His father had placed him here with reason but he knew damn well that he needed his father. Even worse was that the other de Clare was probably plotting some form of revenge. Mowbray had imposing castles but with the troops here he could not hope to defend the estates.

"Your Grace" Roger eventually said while he bowed before the King who seemed struck with grief. "I wish to tell you once more that I feel honored by the position you have offered me." Roger was going to utilize the sandwich method. Good news, bad new, good news. Always works like a charm. After a small pause for dramatic effect Roger went on and said. "I..." Roger froze, perhaps he was concerned with the King's reply and could not further usher his sentence.

"Go on, Mowbray."

The King had been dressing in uncomfortable clothes as a form of penance. A hair shirt was being made to go under his armour, so that when he went to war he would be reminded of his folly by the incessant itching that such a form of repentance provides.

[Lord William]

Having written his letters, William wished to see the King and though he was not to be disturbed he waited until the King was ready to see him