02-17-2016, 12:05 PM
Paul’s progress was largely unimpeded as he moved with his fremen style of movement through the city. It was not particularly graceful or impressive but it was efficient and quick. They used it to cross the desert at night and was required for all young ones in the sietch to master before they could walk the dunes. Gurney kept pace but without so much reserve, becoming winded by the time they reached up the upper echelons of the Minas Tirith. He had gone unchallenged but observed the guards standing at attention ahead of him.
Gurney would, no doubt, suggest that he sneak his way in, even if it meant killing a guard or two but knew that Paul would object. The two had an unspoken repartee- it wasn’t that Paul was against killing, even less so now that he was Fremen, but he was more political than that. He would find out what he wanted without potentially causing an incident. Flexing one's muscles, especially in a place like this, was bound to lead back to him. With a resigned sigh Paul approached the guards, empty of hand.
“Hault. The king’s chambers are closed to all those who do not have business with him.” A guard said, his armor rattling as he stood a little tensely as Paul approached. Being empty handed did little to dull Paul’s lethality- he was a master of the weirding way and fremen unarmed combat. What was a man with a spear against a man he could not hit?
“He has business with me... I seek a good man.” Paul said calmly, a force of personality subliminal in his voice.
The man seemed confused by this but did not budge,
“I don’t have orders to let you in so... I won’t. I apologize if it’s an inconvenience but we have to be strict around here.”
Paul thought of using Voice on the man but hadn’t been able to use it since arriving. It felt... rusty and distant, but he was sure he would reawaken his skill in it soon.
Gurney stepped forward, his posture saying “let me handle this master Paul”. Paul, despite his reservations, allowed him.
“Do you not know who this man is? He is the Duke of House Atreides and your King best make time in his schedule for a man of his-”
“Enough Gurney. Titles mean nothing here. This is a new land with new rules. I am not here as a Duke or a leader of men. I am here as a simple pilgrim. I am here to learn the lay of the land from the mouth of the King of them. I wish to know their heart- their disposition. In short, I wish to know if your King is a good man. I have seen his people and done them what service I can, but I now desire to know his heart...”
Paul spoke in a very formal style of address, his word choice poetic and flowery but his convictions sharp and strong.
The guard regarded him again, a keen eye looking him over.
“Look. Who goes in and who goes out is not a choice I can make. You’ll have to schedule something with his seneschal or an officer. They don’t pay me enough to deal with people like you.”
Paul considered this for a moment and found it to be true. He understood the need for formal channels and went to seek an audience through them.
Gurney would, no doubt, suggest that he sneak his way in, even if it meant killing a guard or two but knew that Paul would object. The two had an unspoken repartee- it wasn’t that Paul was against killing, even less so now that he was Fremen, but he was more political than that. He would find out what he wanted without potentially causing an incident. Flexing one's muscles, especially in a place like this, was bound to lead back to him. With a resigned sigh Paul approached the guards, empty of hand.
“Hault. The king’s chambers are closed to all those who do not have business with him.” A guard said, his armor rattling as he stood a little tensely as Paul approached. Being empty handed did little to dull Paul’s lethality- he was a master of the weirding way and fremen unarmed combat. What was a man with a spear against a man he could not hit?
“He has business with me... I seek a good man.” Paul said calmly, a force of personality subliminal in his voice.
The man seemed confused by this but did not budge,
“I don’t have orders to let you in so... I won’t. I apologize if it’s an inconvenience but we have to be strict around here.”
Paul thought of using Voice on the man but hadn’t been able to use it since arriving. It felt... rusty and distant, but he was sure he would reawaken his skill in it soon.
Gurney stepped forward, his posture saying “let me handle this master Paul”. Paul, despite his reservations, allowed him.
“Do you not know who this man is? He is the Duke of House Atreides and your King best make time in his schedule for a man of his-”
“Enough Gurney. Titles mean nothing here. This is a new land with new rules. I am not here as a Duke or a leader of men. I am here as a simple pilgrim. I am here to learn the lay of the land from the mouth of the King of them. I wish to know their heart- their disposition. In short, I wish to know if your King is a good man. I have seen his people and done them what service I can, but I now desire to know his heart...”
Paul spoke in a very formal style of address, his word choice poetic and flowery but his convictions sharp and strong.
The guard regarded him again, a keen eye looking him over.
“Look. Who goes in and who goes out is not a choice I can make. You’ll have to schedule something with his seneschal or an officer. They don’t pay me enough to deal with people like you.”
Paul considered this for a moment and found it to be true. He understood the need for formal channels and went to seek an audience through them.
Quote:TL;DR: Paul and Gurney tried to get in via a guard but the guard eventually told them to piss off and make a formal reservation.
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