Ibram Lhhune : A Study on the Prince Shrouded in Grey by Quincey Forbrias

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Ibram Lhhune : A Study on the Prince Shrouded in Grey by Quincey Forbrias

Post  Baron Rossington on Thu Mar 07, 2013 3:51 pm

The Grey Princes1 of the Kin2 are nearly mythical figures in a society made up of mythical creatures. Outside the Kin they take on a darker shade once more, being either unheard of or spoken of in hushed tones of awe. Each of them carries a legend of their own making, not one holds the boon of the inherited titles that many other mythical dynasties hold. They are the darkest of the shadow governments that rule over all mythical life. However, one in particular stands out from the eminent crowd: Ibram Lhhune. I have compiled a selection of interviews and writings about this man from his closer friends and confidants. I shall compile them here as a singular volume. Unfortunately, due to the nature of my research, I find myself unable to organise it, so this account shall be far from chronological. I shall attempt to reference accurately as I go. I have included in brackets my own comments for accuracy and consistency, differentiating between the actual account and my own observations. I have also applied some of my own knowledge at the end of the account.

Bene Darkmans3.

Quincey Forbias


A betrayal at Este.
We were all out in the north of Italy, doing some job or other. It's hard to remember what, I think it was slotting some Psionic or other. There was me, Ibram, Tamas Moor, the Jardine (never found out his real name), Haymere Val Kenrir, Quincey Forbias, although why we took him I have no idea, and Archon Vex. Two crusniks, a pair of addonexus, an elf and a somomium. The job was done and we were lying low in the safe house that Quincey had set up, one thing that had to be said was that Quincey was good for local talent, for a somomium. We didn't know it was happening until it had happened. Haymere had been out on rove (kin term for a patrol) when we heard the scuffle outside. I say we, I mean I heard it. I was the only other one awake. Then he came staggering in and just looked at me. Funny thing about dying men, they don't scream. Well....he didn't scream then. When Quincey started to dig in his back with a knife he screamed. God he screamed then. If nothing else, it was a relief when they finally got down into the cellar and shut him up. Takes hours for a man to die from a blade in the kidneys, and elves are no exception, sneaky eriffs (kin word for a traitor or a turncoat of the worst kind. It means one who would stab you in the back so they could eat your shit once you were dead, if you take the literal translation) that they are. He just sort of walked over and slumped into a seat. Couldn't make words, but it didn't stop him trying to.
I had everybody up by then, for what it was worth. Not even a half dozen of us trying to protect that place, even I could have told you that'd fail. Ibram was at his worst, in that rage where he couldn't even see straight. He kept muttering about how they (I believe frederick is refering to the Lhhune clan, that operates out of Heldran. I never made it my business to ask after our employers.) would never betray us. Tamas made the mistake of pointing out the obvious, that we were betrayed. He lost teeth for his trouble. Not that it bothered us much, he didn't last long enough to hold a grudge. Me, Ibram and the addonexus boys went to try and hold the outside of the house. I think we gave good account, I know I got at least two, and crippled a third. But, as these things go, we were swept back into the house. I remember The Jardine roaring out in anger. No, not anger. Frustration. It was so easy for them, they had us. Nowhere we could go.
We started to drop when they got inside. Tamas was doing that little flashy dance he does with a rapier. All slips and slides and keeping out of reach of whoever he's up against. Didn't help him against a crossbow, though. Me, I was never so subtle. I liked to get in close, use what Ibram had given me. It's been so long now, I always think what nature gave me. But that isn't how it is, I was made like this. Still can't get over the satisfaction of ripping somebodies throat out with your own talons. It's why I let mine grow, while Bram always cut his back to look normal, made himself look civilised. I was under no such illusions, I know what I am.
We had to keep dropping back, and inside we were more stuck for options. We couldn't go outside and be pro-active. Always falling back. Bram kept saying we could hold them for a bit and heads for another exit. He was lying, they had the back way sealed as soon as they had us inside. I had taken a cut on my forehead by now, some sanguine with a longsword got lucky. Blood kept dripping into my eyes. Quincey ran up to us, he'd abandoned Haymere. The screaming had stopped, at least. It happened quickly after that. We were backing up, backing up towards the "exit". We didn't have a chance for anything fancy, they came around the corner and had us before we could do much. Jardine took a blade in the throat, but was too stupid to die. So they stuck another one in his brain. He stopped fighting then.
I didn't see the one who got me. I just remember falling on my face, even then they didn't have me. I took the hamstring out of one of the ones who tried to hold me down, an addonexus, I think. Quincey put up his blade, he knew we were beat. Still, should have gutted that eriff, I knew he couldn't be relied upon. Bram was beaten down by a pair of big arms. A dragoon and something else, I don't know what. They'd done us good and proper it seemed. Sure, we'd made them bleed for it, but what was that worth, we were still done. Then they took us to Eaglespike. And there I died. Well, part of me died. Luckily I came back. Life's funny like that, just when you think you're done, it tosses you a bone. Or, in this case, a whole corpse.

Frederick Von Drothe (Deceased associate of Ibram Lhhune)


I fear I must shed some light on this account of the actions near Este. We were set upon by some 20 or so members of The Ordo Horatio4 (Better known as the Horatian Justicars) working in Northern Italy. It is believed, but never confirmed, that they were tipped off to our whereabouts and activities by the IVG. We had caused that particular party some trouble in the not so distant past. Haymere died from a knife wound in his back, which was unfortunate enough to hit his kidney. I attempted to save his life, but found myself unable to. They butchered him like a rabid dog in the cellar. I doubt he would have lived much longer, even if they hadn't gotten to him. For my part, I did put up my weapons when I saw we were lost. We were attacked on two sides, and Frederick, quite the formidable opponent even then, was down. Ibram was in a corner. I like to think I saved their lives, for crying for the white (my origins betray me, I mean asking for surrender). Frederick never liked me before then, and positively wanted me dead afterwards. Luckily, Ibram was not, and is not, a stupid man. If we were to escape Eaglespike, we would need to work as a team, not as individuals tearing each other apart.

1. Grey Prince: What one may term as a ruler among the Kin(see 2). They hold territory in many areas of unlawful practice and their word is held as law amongst the kin. The Grey Council is made up of approximately 30 Grey Princes, as it stands. A self made title and one which is never passed through generations. If you cannot earn it yourself, you do not deserve it.
2. Kin : Collective term for all those outside the mythical law. This applies from the lowliest elf pickpocket right up to the grey Princes themselves. The background behind the term is that all thieves are family, or kin. It is also why many Kin refer to each other as "Cousins" or, if they work more closely together "brothers" and "sisters".
3. Bene Darkmans : Kin term - A greeting or acknowledgement among thieves. It is a term of respect exchanged as equals.
4. See next entry.
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The Horatian Order: An Overview.

Post  Baron Rossington on Fri May 03, 2013 11:30 am


I fear I must explain briefly about the purpose and lay out of the Horatian Order, who captured and held us at Eaglespike Prison. This overview is very brief but should suffice for now.

The Horatian Order
Better known as Horatian Justicars. An order dating back to ancient Rome and the legendary figure of Horatius, who stood upon the bridge to defend the city. The truth behind the myth is two fold. The bridge is The Bridge of Souls, which is believed to be a rift between plains of realms, in simple terms another reality. This is regularly (in mythical terms) assaulted in an attempt to invade and subjugate this world in which we live. Little and less is known about the beings that seek to invade. However, the order was established with the aim of "Defending the mythical and mortal communities from threats without and within.".

This is done in two manners. Firstly they seek to hold the bridge against raids and invasion. Secondly they act as a watch dog force on the mythical community, stopping them from especially dangerous acts on mythicals and mortals alike. It is at the discretion of each Justicar to judge if an individual, or a group of individuals, is acting contrary to the common good and therefore must be removed. Although they attempt to detain convicts (it's a very summary process) in Eaglespike Prison, they regularly merely kill, or in the instance of demons and similar entities banish, such beings.

Each Justicar has his or her own style of operations and favours detention or execution as they please. They fall into two rough categories of grouping preference, Brotherhood Justicars and Errant Justicars. The former travel with a retinue of followers, almost uniformly warriors of some individual note, who aid them in their duties. Often retinues contain two or more full Justicars and their apprentices. The later tend to be more experienced Justicars, who operate alone. This often occurs when a retinue has been broken in battle or when a Justicar has become angered with the restrictions of relying upon others and merely casts out alone.

The Order is both rigid in discipline but loose in structure. The Patriarch/Matriarch heads the order and has sway over everything. Their word is law on dogma and execution of duties. Next is The Praetor, an exclusively male position. They are officially charged wit the permanent defence of The Bridge of Souls. They also technically have the right of veto on the Patriarch on military matters, although it is rarely exercised. Under him are two subordinates who help with general running of the order, Signets. Each Signet has a hand of 5 members, making the council of 14. There are also ten "Champions of the Order" who have no official powers, but have a tremendous amount of influence. They are often Justicars who have turned down positions such as Signet or a place in a hand to continue working as an ordinary Justicar. Always warriors of some note and repute even outside the order. Almost always Errant Justicars, due to the nature of their position. Further than that everything is done on respect among members, with very successful members have a lot of pull, sometimes even on their official superiors.
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