Unti Family/Nerta/A5S1

Roleplay from Nerta the Weaver

Message sent to Everyone in the Agyrian Academy

Restless. Nerta paces in her new tent while the stiffly dressed Captain Axel sighs. His new mistress seemed far too akin to a panther before bars. "You need not worry m'lady, your soldiers shall see the creatures off with little difficulty." Truth be told she had little worry of that, not after the entire army had marched in on her heels. No, she was more pensive that the archers were in harms way while she was safe and sound. But she wasn't going to have that argument again. Besides, Bob was here and the Old Man wanted a word with him about some deed or another.

Nerta the Weaver (Foederati)

Letter from Aeravon Velaryon

Message sent to All nobles of Ar Agyr

It looks like a new noble emerged from our ranks today, yet my lazy servant failed to properly report this. Welcome, Lady Nerta Unti! For the North,

Aeravon Velaryon (Judge of Ar Agyr, Duke of Avalon, Margrave of Fronepu)

Letter from Jacinda the Driven

Message sent to Everyone in the Agyrian Academy

Found another Dragon's Tear, in the lair of a small pack of monsterkin here in the Seven Rivers.

Jacinda the Driven (Adventurer)

Letter from Varan

Message sent to Everyone in the Agyrian Academy

Undead were protecting another Dragon’s Tear in Zwering, the reanimated Grehkian general who was the final guardian put up a hellish fight. A wearying battle, but nothing a good massage and bath can’t sort out!

Varan (Adventurer)

Roleplay from Soren Navaar

Message sent to Everyone in Ar Agyr

His room at the Wolf's Den Inn was small, but he rarely traveled with a lot of belongings outside of his weapons. Sitting off to one side was his bow, unstrung, next to a quiver of arrows. Beside that was his spear, and quarterstaff. Finally, his sword rested on his lap as he looked at the man before him. Soren sat face to face with a familiar figure for the first time in years. Long, once dark hair that was gray with age, pulled back and tied at the bottom, a ferocity in brown eyes that Soren knew as one of actual skill and burden, and a figure that looked like it could still fight years later. That was Felix Calanar, former Duke of Nothoi, and man he called Grandfather. Sitting in his lap were two objects wrapped in cloth. He had shown up out of the blue, and let himself into Soren's room without a word, and now, the young lord did not know what to say. Felix began. "The Calanar network spans continents. Not one of you brothers is left un-watched, even if you don't realize it." Soren nodded. "Does that mean?" Felix nodded. "Locke is going to search for Cayden." "Uncle Locke? He rarely leaves the estate anymore. Why would he go?" Soren asked, concerned more for his brothers than himself. Uncle Locke made him nervous. Of all the Calanar family he knew, it was the core family surrounding Locke that was the most nerve wracking. Every one of them seemed to have the strength and willpower of kings and queens in their own right. Nothing the Navaars could ever amount to. Felix didn't respond. Instead he continued. "Velden is going to find Lucius, and I am here for you. It's time for your inheritances." Soren blinked. "Inheritance?" Instead of explaining, Felix unwrapped the first cloth item. An old set of seals, a map, and family heritage documents, proof of his bloodline, and ancient claim to countless regions that the family once thrived in throughout Beluaterra, a number of them were lands now belonging to Ar Agyr, and an old map of Beluaterra from before the blight took hold. A reminder of what daimon slayers fought for. Soren swallowed hard, as he looked from item to item, setting many of them aside on the bed next to him. "That is... generous, grandfather, but I don't know how well those claims will hold up today." The last one was a seal for the Consul of Melhed. Taking a deep breath, he set that aside without thinking too hard on it. "Move the sword," Felix ordered, and Soren immediately obeyed as he unwrapped the second package. Soren paled. The sword that was revealed was a twisted piece of metal and blade. It looked like it could belong to some fantastic dictator in some fairy tale for children. It almost seemed blighted, and he hesitated to even touch it. The weapon had been worked and reforged over the years into something usable as a weapon. As Soren accepted the sword, he looked between it and his grandfather. "A daimon's sword. Taken from one of the creatures during the fall of Heen by your great grandfather. He would use their own weapons against them. As the next in line of our family to serve Beluaterra, this weapon is yours should you wish to use it." Soren, ever calm in most situations, looked down at the weapon and shuddered. "It is... an honor. I suppose." Felix laughed. "It's no honor. It's a burden." "Why now?" Soren asked, almost naively. Felix, still chuckling, almost seemed like a daimon in his own right. "You're mostly free of the Blue Tower these days. Welcome to the family."

Soren Navaar (Count of Seven Rivers)

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Letter from Nerta the Weaver

Message sent to Everyone in The Old Gods

The Old Man wonders what's going on in the deep south. With Ar Agyr busy tending local matters there's little talk of another crusade. Anyone have any news?

Nerta the Weaver (Foederati)