[Limit of 3 players in this thread]

Ranulf de Glanville has taken a seat, currently by himself, at table two. This affords him a great view of the high table, where by rights the Chief Justiciar of England should probably be sitting. That he is not is perhaps a sign of coming things, but Ranulf seems unperturbed, picking at his bread and casually scanning the crowd as he is.

Giles looked to the page boy who ushered him to a seat. "Are you sure there is not some sort of misunderstanding?" He asked inquisitively as he looked back down the large hall to one of the farther tables, where he had expected to be sitting.

"Giles de Braose? This is the right seat." The page confirmed with a nod of his head and a forced smile plastered on before he hurried off to seat another of the dignitaries.

Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, Giles took his seat, a few spots over from Ranulf and lifted a mug of watered down wine in salute to his table companion.

"Chief Justicar, I find myself in quite esteemed company this evening. Giles de Braise, second son of William de Braose Lord of Bramber."

"Well met, Mister de Braose," the old man replies. "Ranulf de Glanville, at your service."

He extends a hand for a handshake.

Assuming it's returned, he then starts to heap your plate with heron flesh. "Now, didn't I see you in the nave during the ceremony? Ah, yes, one of the writers. Did you see anything that caught your eye?"

Giles does return the handshake, though he is clearly outmatched in physical strength by Ranulf and blushes slightly when his coronation activity was mentioned.

"Yes, well, some of us are blessed to perform great deeds." Giles replied offering a dip of his head in acknowledgment of Ranulf's exploits. "And then others of us tell the tales of those deeds and moments for generations to hear and learn from. There are certainly no shortage of notable personalities here, but what does one expect from such a momentous occasion."

Giles waves off any more of the heron as his plate fills, he had only a minor appetite as these things went.

Ranulf takes the hint on the meat, but starts tucking in quite heartily. If the Queen wasn't going to let him eat at the High Table, he might as well enjoy himself down here.

"It is quite a well-attended event, isn't it? You know this is the first time that Queen and King have been in England in many years. And all of these Poitevins and Aquitainians that came along for the ride spell a strange time for our Island. Unless, of course, they all ship out again for the Crusade."

He chewed for a moment. Swallowed.

"You think that's going to happen?"

With an equal gusto, Giles digs in as well. He might not be able to handle the same portion sizes, but he is just as enthusiastic about the quality of the options.

"If he calls for the levies, then it will happen." Giles offers as an opinion, before embellishing on his point a little more.

"Would be a braver man than I to turn down a request from the newly crowned King. I'm sure Richard, first of his name, would relish a chance to display his authority on any who would refuse to support him. It's no great secret he and King Philip are making plans already, or if not true, then the idle gossip is rising."

Glanville laughs heartily. "Oh, those rumors I can confirm. Our neighbor to the south has already sent several missives objecting to the lengthy delay the coronation and council represent. Not that I blame him, of course, the weather in the Med gets quite angry in late autumn. And that is almost certainly when our ships will leave Marseilles. I think the coming months will have more surprises for Good King Philip than he bargained on."

He shook his head slowly, his voice lowering a bit as he squinted up at the high table. The First Subtlety was arranged on its platter, and the royals were devouring their portions, Richard's plate piled with sections of the Tower of David.

"See his eye gleam when he looks upon Jerusalem, even a Jerusalem of bread? The delay rankles him, but it is necessary. All of the steps he will take here will be fixed upon that point." Glanville speaks those words even as Richard's knife plunges into the baked masonry. "That end. And the holy men say that end will justify all means."

He nodded slowly, almost to himself.

Giles drops his voice as well, in fact he falls completely silent as the open challenge is issued, lest any conversation be construed as an uprising.

After the moment passes, he speaks with Ranulf again. "A King needs a victory early in his reign to quell the masses? Let us hope for the sake of the realm that the morsel he eyes with his fork doesn't prove too difficult to swallow."

Glanville nods. "We may hope, Giles, and we may do our best to support him. But let us not forget what the Roman said: The sinews of war; infinite money. There is nothing a man defends so jealously as his purse." He glanced around. "We sit amidst the most monied men in the Kingdom. And for every Warwick or Arundel that donates as much as he takes in, there is a man like Oxford who would defend his first groat to the last. The King is going to have to play a dangerous game, Giles. He is going to have to part dangerous men from their coin."

He smiled. "I take some comfort in that Ridel was first. I will be second, of course, but we will not be the last."

"To one such as I, who has little in comparison to the guests here at least, I cannot comprehend the jealousy of which you speak." Giles replies as his eyes sweep the room, eventually settling on a maiden fair across the hall.

"But we all have something that stirs our souls, for good or ill." He adds as he rises up top partake in the Third Courtesy.

Geoffrey loved parties. This may be a momentous one that honored a solemn occasion, but he was not about to fail to have fun. He had his seat pointed out to him, but he made rounds before actually coming to find his seat, which happened to be next to Giles. He didn't interrupt the conversation, but he did look to the other two men to let them know he was present. While he waited for them to invite him, if they chose to at all. Wine... that was what he needed. Just a bit though. Moderation kept the mind sharp enough to...

He watched a particularly lovely lady, someone's daughter no doubt, across the room. He smiled but did nothing else, just taking note of her and determining to find her later.

...he sipped from his glass.

Ranulf de Glanville looked up from his plate.

"Ah! A Plantagenet if ever there was one. You have Geoffrey's eyes, and no mistake," he nods to himself. "Well, never was it your family's way to stand on ceremony. Take a seat, man, and know us better!"

Ranulf keeps his eye fixed on yours as he begins to pile eel onto your plate. "Take this. Nothing more English than a Thames eel. Might as well know what you're in for."

"I've never been one to shy from any well cooked meal," he says with a smile.

"I've heard it said that I had very similar features to grandfather. I thank the Lord for that blessing with stories of his handsome looks."

"I hope you are enjoying the feast?"

Ranulf chuckled. "Good food, good drink, and a good sense of what the future holds. I am a very lucky man."

He helped himself to a bit of rooster from the Third Subtlety. "Does my lord Plantagenet have a name? I know your...grandsire, but you must admit it is a large family."

"I am Baron Geoffrey of Crehen, of the house of Tournemine, he replies. William's second son," he replied, introducing himself. "I'm glad to make your acquaintance Chief Justiciar Ranulf."

It was not lost on him that this was the man that had been holding his aunt before Richard freed her. But he knew his grandfather, so he could probably share some stories.

"You ought to be, it might just be your last chance." Ranulf took a big bite of chicken. "Now, Crehen...I don't think I've had the pleasure of seeing your part of the world. Not a Norman barony. Breton?"

"Every meeting carries that danger," he says with a smirk. "Best not to let any go to waste."

"Crehen is a small fishing and farming town in Penthievre, my mother's little corner of Brittany," he says. "Chateau de Guildo my home. Beautiful coastal country, if a bit rural for most noble tastes. I find the opportunity for privacy far outweighs that however."

"How nice. Do you know, I have often found that lords who have a place to go when court is out of session---an out of the way place, like---often find themselves much more well-rested and acute when court is again in session. Must have something to do with the stress of presentation, as I guess."

"The true secret is that those that can rely on some privacy at home can release the discontentment they accrue during court. Thoughts of home also tend to bring peace rather than more strain and worry. But then, one does miss out on the current cultural fineries."

"Indeed?" Ranulf considers that for a moment. "I wonder if they even feel the loss of those. It seems that there is much in this life we could set aside, were it not for the need to ensure justice and security."

"It is felt, but to live without is to be free from the desire for. When time comes for court one gets all they need.". He seems content with that idea. "But security and justice is not only needed in the places where the poweful gather. Some of us are needed to provide such to those that might otherwise go without. All of gods creatures should be given the chance to live under the protection of those he has blessed."

"Oh, yes, certainly." Ranulf agrees heartily. "Justice must be spread away from the center. Just so long as it is spread evenly. Oh, the troubles King Henry and I had! It was a life's work. More than, if I am honest. I hope that someone will be able to take it over."

Nodding at that. "A daunting job with rather large shoes to fill as I see it," Geoffrey replied. "But such is the way of things no? We spend our lives accomplishing things, then the person that follows can only wonder how they will meet the expectations, only to do so in the end and put that pressure on the next in line."