The Entrance..

As he entered the great hall the room fell in to an eerie quiet.  If the events of the last two months had taught them anything it was reverence for the 14-year-old boy who would now become King, emperor or whatever title he decided to adorn his new office with.  They had learned reverence… and fear.  For his part the boy king seem seemed at peace as he entered the far end of the long ancient space.  He paused to survey the attendees in such a way that he seemed to make eye contact with every individual in the room.  It was a skill that the Order had been training him with since he was considerably younger that he was today.  And it was a skill that, along with his other abilities, he had sharpened to the point they he may have well have shouted his arrival at the door.  The moment he stepped into the ingress was the moment that everyone was keenly aware of his presence and his power.  The effect was not unlike when children get caught playing by the clergy walking into church.  No words need to be spoken as the message is perfectly clear.

The hush nervousness of the gathered assemblage was only broke by the sound of his footsteps against the ornate thousand-year-old floors.  A slow methodical gate that itself gave off the air of control and mastery while at the same time showing no rush to get anywhere.  It, like everything he did, was calculated to provide exactly the impression he wanted to project.  No signs of weakness. No signs of fear.  Now it could be argued that after the outcomes that had led to this moment that he really did have little to fear from this room on this day.  While that was likely true for the day, nothing could be left to chance.  Nothing to give discord, or even the hope for discord to latch on to.  No, today was about laying a future.  A future where all those gathered could look past the conflicts of the past and accept the rule of the one who was equal part savior and conqueror. 

But while there was no doubting the legitimacy of his position today, it would take some time for this, the noble class, to accept that they would now be ruled by someone from outside their ranks.  Even the simple brown and green that he wore today was not aligned to the colors of his family or guild but rather were chosen to represent the green hills of the land of his birth.  Again, nothing left to chance and every opportunity to send a message was taken.  The Lords and Ladies gathered knew that he was supreme and they knew that their time was over.  What was left to be decided was just how much of the old order would be swept away.  Already, many of the trappings of the old system were being cast aside.  The very fact that this reception was taking place here in the Grant Hall of the Mariner’s Guild rather than the King’s keep was already trying to be understood by those looking to predict his next moves.  Unknown to the gathered however was that this location was chosen by him more because he had always liked the space, even since coming here as a boy, than it was to send a message.  Although the lack of a specific meaning in the location was also a useful tool to keep the “analysts” on their heels.  He took a certain pleasure in knowing that the location choice would, in the words of his trusted advisor; “Give them fits for better part of a month alone.”