Dubhaine Family/Ciarghuala/Roleplays/1018/May

1st May

Winter Day -- Poryatu

Isabella Pavus

Upon her steed, an unconscious Isabella trotted into the city of Giask. As she came through the gates, there was a cheer, waking her up. However, the masses were confused by her lacking unit. Nonetheless, the rough looking warrior rode through to the barracks. She equipped herself with a new unit, 25 mixed infantry soldiers. They had no captain, he had died. She would make do. Fortunately, the lot were capable enough. And she was sure that they would not desert. And if they did, she would surely have their heads. After a quick moment to bathe, she rubs her eyes and rides off, the unit in tow.

Sevastian Schwarzherzig

Sevastian noticed a fresh new unit marching from the recruitment depot, headed in the same direction his captain had his men marching at present. Sevastian rode slowly behind, observing for a moment. Mixed infantry, he mused. He spied their commander and grinned, spurring his horse on, and reigned in beside Isabella. He gave a practiced bow from the saddle, guiding his horse with his knees.

"Lady Isabella I presume?"

Isabella Pavus

Isabella perks up her head, looking to Sevastian. "Given your manner and your admiration, my list is not narrowed down much," she grins, "But I should think Sir Sevastian. The journey from Moon Bay was much longer, much more arduous than the maps led me to believe. I think next winter, I will take up courtiership and stay indoors. Or, at least, not travel around all too much. I was not even attacked and my unit massacred. They deserted, even the captain. I have heard talk of them discussing my lack of funds in the taverns. I had hoped to trample on their corpses. Luria will need all she can get, and my justice will wait. Nonetheless, I have talked quite enough. How are you?" she smiles.

Sevastian Schwarzherzig

"Quite well, working on a composition for the University. It is my ardent desire to see the institution restored to its former glory." Sevastian remarked casually, adjusting his feathered cap.

"Nasty business, desertion. Fickle soldiers! The very privilege of Imperial service should be pay enough, but the ingrates couldn't even appreciate having such a beautiful commander?" Sevastian said, taking her hand and kissing it. "The common folk are always crying about bread. But what of adventure! Of honor, and glory! Surely there is more to life than a full belly." Sevastian said, shaking his head.

"If the men of the Ultima Ratio Regum catch wind of your deserters, rest assured, they will dance their final dance. Nothing quite as stirring as the gallows jig."

Emyhr le Craint

It had been a while since Emyhr had returned to the north and especially near Askileon, he found himself filled with excitement and a warming to be near home. The Vanguard camped in a clearing in a forest between Cairn Tut and Askileon Purlieus, sat around a make shift table made from gathered wood from the local area. The crisp chill of the winter air was felt among the camp, with the majority of the Vanguard huddled around the fire keeping the fire as warm as possible.

Emyhr along with Captain Gustaf were pondering a map of the north, preparing for the journey for the next couple of days. Crude marks along this map representing known Lurian combatants, they prepared their placement for the foreseeable future.

"Sir Emyhr, I fear that it may be a while before we see the sights of Poryatu again and I know the men grow restless, would you allow the men to relax and find entertainment within Askileon? I worry about the moral among some of the men."

Honest concern for the men was showing on his face as he said this, but also a need for relaxation himself. There was an element of anxiety after the combat they have faced in recent times.

"Captain Gustaf, I too feel the strain of this and miss the comforts of the estate back in Poryatu. However, we have orders to protect the realm and the positioning in Cairn Tut provides us with ample coverage of the rouge states. I do agree with you though, while I have needs to attend to when we arrive in Askileon, I trust that you will show the men a good time and allow them to recuperate."

Emyhr now looked upon the face of the man and could see the tired expressions he was making. Emyhr walked over to the tent set up for supplies and came out with two mugs of ale and headed back to the table.

"This journey may be a long one, but I promise you that once we reach Askileon, you shall get your well deserved rest. I cannot afford to let my captain get too tired, I need your experience."

Handing the mug to the captain, they both took a deep swig of ale and slammed the cups down on the table. With this, Emyhr turned to his men who was now looking over at the commotion on the table.

"Men of the Vanguard, I know you are tired and restless. However, it shall not be long before we make it to Askileon. Once we arrive, I will provide Captain Gustaf here with ample funding to enable you all to rest and recuperate. I look forward to seeing the men that can keep up with the captain here"

With a slap on the back of the captain, the men looked upon the two of them. Their previously tired and shivering faces now filled with excitement, many of them began recalling memories they have of times within Askileon. The captain now had a mix of an embarrassed and cheery look upon him as he returned to the table.

"Now Sir Emyhr, I believe we should discuss the matter of the state of the equipment." The Captain said with a cheeky grin on his face as his pointed towards the pile of damaged swords and armor that could be seen from within a tent.

Isabella Pavus

"The university is quite brilliant. I myself submitted a piece, honouring both the realm and my late brother. As well as a stanza implying that Chance Harte as no heart, and Dodger has no... pene. I find myself privileged to serve. I gave my loyalty and my choice in marriage to the Emperor, to better the Lurian Hegemony. It is where my life and loyalty is, no matter the reward. My family has always been ambitious like this. Touches every single Pavus. It is why my cousin is a judge with higher aspirations, why I served as General in weeks past, and why my brother had bold aspirations, to say the least. There is little I would not give in service of the realm. Yet these soldiers and more mercenary than anything. A mistake that will not be made again. I must say, I think highly of the adventuring commoners. Useful assets to any realm."

Winter Evening -- Poryatu

Myr Arnickles Renodin

"Fly, you fools!" - shouted marshal Stoneandrags. His voice thundering at his rocky minions.

"No! Stay put!" - he yelled, turning left and right within split second, drawing snickers and giggles from the children gathered around.

"March out! Left!" - he ordered and turned right instead. Kids released a volly of laughter, one of them shouting - "Monsters, marshal Stoneandrags, there be monsters!"

"What? Where?!" - he cried out in terror, hiding behind one of his rocky soldiers. He postured up, coughing theatrically - "Ah! Worry not, I have superior tactic!"

He puffed himself up with pride and elucidated his grand plan: "We will all turn around and advance with our backs turned on the enemy! The enemy will think we're reatreating and not attacking! Ha!" - the marshal turned around, his raggy arms flailing from the impetus of the motion and children were laughing uncontrollably.

Myr kneeled down, his arm reaching out to the children, the ragdoll in his hand. Returning the toy to the gathered kids he flicked one silver coin in the air. It spinned mid-air, showing the face of Emperor Aldrakar or Giask for a split-second with each turn, the tallest of the children jumped up, catching the offering.

"Thank you sir knight!" - kids shouted after him.

William Fitz Roberts

William was bent over his desk in the he had hired to ferry him from Giask to Askileon. He had spent the entire journey locked in his cabin, poring over maps, charts and old traveller’s reports. He had several different histories of Dwilight books scattered around the room, the majority of which he had so far simply skimmed. At last, he pulled out his dagger and jammed it hard into the wood of the desk, its point over a city to the western half of the map.

‘Here’, he muttered to himself, ‘It shall be here’.

He turned as he heard the door slowly open, ready to bark angrily at whomever had dared disturb him. He softened immediately when he saw it was, for Anne was standing in the threshold in her travelling cloak, whose collar was turned upwards to protect her from the cold sea winds.

‘Husband, you have been here all day. I have hardly seen you since we rode from Fox Hall. Have you grown tired of me?’, Anne spoke in a mocking tone, putting on an obviously false pout. William reached out his arm to her, beckoning her into his embrace.

‘I have been deep in my own thoughts, come and see’

Her curiosity clearly peaked, Anne came quickly into William’s arms where they shared a long kiss, before she broke it off and stared down at the map William had pierced with his dagger

‘So this is what has kept you from my side, hmm?’ Anne said in a low voice, her interest clearly growing, ‘tell me, what is at this Goldenfarrow?’

‘Quite simply, my dear, our future. The city of Goldenfarrow was once one of the richest, if not the richest cities in all of Dwilight. However, when the monsters came and humanity were forced to abandon the West, it appears much of the wealth was abandoned. Think about it, a city filled with gold, unclaimed by any realm on Dwilight, ripe for the taking if we can defeat the monsters that plague those lands. To think, if it can be settled once more it will be a wealthy kingdom to add to the glorious Hegemony of Luria. If it cannot, think of the wealth that might be stripped from its buildings. I intend to find volunteers to go with me there one day. Maybe not this month, maybe not this year, but one day Golden Farrow will be stripped of its wealth and our family shall be as kings!!!’

Anne looked at the map for a long time. At last she spoke,

‘this would takes months of planning and is fraught with risk, but we might just pull this off’ She looked up at her husband, excitement and greed flashing in her emerald eyes

William sat back down in his chair, ‘Aye, but now we must focus on the task at hand. The Realm must always come before the will of the individual

Anne looked disappointed, but at last nodded her agreement. ‘You are right of course. Are you looking forward to seeing our homeland again? You have not been back for so long I will be surprised if your mother can even recognise you’

William laughed at that, ‘in all honesty, I am more worried about your father being able to recognise me’

It was Anne’s turn to laugh, ‘It has been eight years, do you really think he still hates you for eloping with me?’

‘You know I do, and what is more you know I am right. The man terrifies me’

‘How can you be scared of him, you have a solid two feet on him?’

‘It is simple: everyone tells me that you take after him’

Anne’s laughter echoed across the smooth twilit waters of the Euschean Sea

2nd May

Winter Evening -- Poryatu

Zhou Tai Bluelake

Drake sneaked around the streets of Askileon. He knew his uncle had told him to behave better while in the city, and he had, especially at the horse market where they looked at the new mares from that southern shipment. He had been courteous and polite, his dark blue eyes shining with interest, and he hadn't even laughed at the crass jokes of the horse dealers. Zhou Tai must have been proud of him. But now, he was on an undercover mission... His uncle was finishing his business before they headed back home, and Drake had taken the chance. A few coppers got him a peasant child's clothing to toss on top of his regular garb, and he looked messy enough not to seem of noble blood.

He navigated the huge market with a bit of trouble, but finally, the 8 year old reached the cart he was looking for. The milk merchant! As he walked up to the man, muttering to himself the words to make sure he got every one of them right, he wondered how many sheets of parchment with Sir Leif's latest works would that grant him. He was looking forward to share them with his cousins at home. Stopping before the bulky milkman, he got a suspicious stare. Before he lost heart, Drake said, rather loudly "Dai mne moloko gaspodin!" and blinked intensely thrice.

Leif Wilkins

The waves were crashing along the hull of the ship. Leif shuddered in his fur-lined coat - that of an arctic bear, rubbing his hands together as the penetrating wind pierced his bones. A resilient man, Leif highly disliked boats and open water. He could rarely see what was beyond the rail of the boat, and had a fear of falling into the water after an incident as a young lad in which he almost drowned.

He couldn't sleep as he has woken up to return the food he had back to surface due to the inconsistent and wobbly motions of the ship. "Arse pebbles..." he thought "I can handle most of life's abuse... Even meeting sunrise in bed with what looks like a troll but seemed like a favourable lady upon moonlight after a few tankards of ale... But this.. This darn struggle with sea travel is pathetic."

As the thought passed, Leif could see the spires of Askelion on the horizon. Finally

3rd May

Winter Evening -- Poryatu

Myr Arnickles Renodin

Myr did some calculations in his head:

170 gold coins per week. Three weeks per season makes 510 gold coins per season. Four seasons per year makes 2040 gold coins per year. It would take me... 25 years to gather 50 000 gold coins!

He took a quill and waved off the scribe.

"I'll write this one myself."

4th May

Winter Day — Poryatu

William Fitz Roberts

William seeks compensation

As they strode into the village, William could hear the cries of fear and panic.

‘My, my, what a delightful place’, William said loudly, exaggerating his joy. ‘Look at it, it’s almost idyllic, who wouldn’t want to live in a place like this. A simple life, away from the troubles of the wider world? It makes one almost wonder whether we should just return to Grodno and tend to our fields’. He breathed in deeply, ‘Just smell that, that is the smell of hard work and toil, that is the smell of an honest living’

‘It certainly is pleasant, husband’, Anne walked alongside her husband, joining in with William’s fun

‘Now, now let me see’, William pointed his poleaxe at one of the frightened villagers, ‘who is in charge here? Who speaks for you?

A trembling man stepped forward. He was in his mid-thirties and slightly better dressed than the rest. But only slightly. He still stank of dung. He bowed deeply’

‘M’lord, I am the reeve of this place, what can we do for you? What is your business here?’

‘Our business?’ William exclaimed, a dreadful gleam in his eye, ‘our business is simple. I don’t know if you heard fighting a few hours ago, but my soldiers and eye just saved your village from being razed by trolls.’

‘For which, you have our deepest gratitude’, he gestured behind him to a house, ‘please, m’lord, if you would care to break bread with us as a means of saying thank you? My wife is just finishing making our dinner’

‘Break bread?’, William and his soldiers laughed allowed at that, ‘No, no, no. We require something more substantial. You see, fighting a battle is very arduous. Puts a strain on body and soul, can cause a man to do strange things if he is not treated right. It also causes damage to equipment, which is expensive stuff. Hans, show them your sword’. One of the men of William’s retinue stepped forward, holding his blade aloft. William tutted, ‘You see, completely chipped. Now, what can you offer us by means of compensation?’

The reeve looked up in horror, ‘please m’lord, we are a simple people, we have nothing’ he protested loudly, taking a few steps back, his arms out in front of him as if to shield himself

At this, William’s smile curled into a sneer. ‘Don’t. Lie. To. Me’, he said in a low, dangerous voice, ‘a place as big as this always has a strongbox somewhere to pay the local strongman for his protection. Where is it?’

‘M’lord, please, if we don’t pay Mc Gregor he will kill us’

‘I am sorry, are you operating under the illusion that I won’t?’, William stepped forward, causing the man to recoil in fear, but William persisted and put his massive arm around the man’s shoulders. One slight movement, and William would have been able to snap the man’s spine. He guided the man to one side and said in a mock whisper, as if he were confiding in the man, ‘You see that woman there?’, indicating Anne, ‘She can come up with far nastier tortures and means to kill you with than some common bandit named Mc Gregor. Now, where is the strongbox?’

Shaking beyond control at this point, the man pointed to a building at the end of the village. William patted the man’s cheek and smiled. ‘Much obliged to you, sir, much obliged’

As they approached, a youth no more than sixteen stepped forward, blocking William’s path to the building. He was holding an old and rusty sword. William looked down, and spoke with a menace that would have given a troll second thoughts. ‘Get out of the way boy, don’t try to be the hero, it’s never worth it. It ain’t like the songs. People won’t remember who you are, you won’t even be a footnote in history. ‘

‘I don’t care, I can’t just stand aside and watch you take away our livelihood’, the youth said, his chest swelling with prideful defiance

‘Well isn’t that a shame?’, William muttered, grabbing the boy and smashing his head into the door frame. As the boy fell to the floor, William used the spike at the end of his pole axe to finish the job.

‘Now would you look at that?’ William shouted in fury, ‘the little wretch has got blood all over my boots! These were expensive. I shall likely have to throw them away’. A scream of anguish went up from the crowd, devolving into sobs and moans of utter shock and horror. William presumed the source of the noise must have been the boy’s mother. William turned, and spied Manfred. The boy’s face was a mask of indifference.

‘Boy,’ William called over, ‘have you ever killed someone?’

‘Not yet, cousin’

‘Well, it’s high time you did. Silence that caterwauling would you, I like my mornings to be peaceful and quiet’. William turned his back on the crowd as Manfred went over. He smiled as he heard a soft scream and then silence. Good. The boy was at least efficient

‘now then,’ William said cheerily, turning back to the terrified crowd, ‘I was going to just take the money and go, leaving you to get on with your miserable little lives out here. However, that was before this “everyday hero” got blood on my boots. Now, that is something that I cannot countenance. Of course, you are so ignorant that you don’t even know what countenance means. Ah well, no point teaching you, you won’t live long enough to use it. Burn it all, leave none alive save that one’ William pointed to a boy no more than 8 or 9. ‘Can you ride boy? Good. Off you pop then, go and tell the other villages what happens when they get blood on my boots’

A little while later, as they were washing the blood off of themselves in a drinking trough, Godlinda said, ‘Just to inform you, sir, but the peasants got wind of our coming and organised themselves into some form of militia to kick us out’

William paused at that, before smiling cheerily. ‘Good. Time for some target practice’

Tyra Andrasta Bluelake

Tyra looked out of her new quarters into the desertic view of the Palm Seas. She was pleased. Monsters and undead could be seen from quite a distance in that scenery. She had slept deeply for the first time in ages.

"It suits you, milady" Her piercing, pale blue eyes shot a warning across the room to Duncan. "We are at court now, milady... This servant will not address you with your given name."

The dame smirked but let it rest. "Well, what do you have for me? Anything that's not merely court gossip in that bunch of letters?"

"A poetry competition..." he was interrupted by her laughter.

"You have to be kidding me... Can one get more courtly than that?!"

It was his turn to give her a hard look. "You promised you'd try, milady"

Tyra had the decency to look guilty. "A poetry competition. What else?"

"Here's the sheet for you to vote on your favorite. Well, sheets. I don't know which one is right. Just use them all. Diplomatic news and a declaration of war..." she reached out and took those "A visit from a foreign queen with news of a swordfight competition in Giask" he saw her eyes growing wider "you have to apply and travel there. I also have a report of your estate's condition and relevant guilds... What are you doing?"

The dame had immediately sat down and started sharpening her sword. The scribe let out an exasperated sigh. "What about your duties? You have to greet your liege, write to your relative, visit guildhouses and apply for membership..." "You do all that for me and I'll get my equipment and men ready to move to Giask." "But..." "I'll tell you the rough content of the letters and you embellish for me, is that good enough?"

The older man looked at her seriously. "One of them is from the Emperor himself. Sit with me for half an hour and we can work through this." He softened his tone "But we can do it outside if milady prefers." To which he got one of her dazzling smiles and immediate assent. Duncan knew how to maneuver his charge. He also knew she'd be working on that sword the whole time.

5th May

Winter Evening -- Poryatu

Kelindun Orobar

It was one of those slow days, Kelindun did not have much to do. Sitting by the fire in a local inn, he enjoyed a glass of wine, while reading some poetry. He really had been enjoying this contest. Though he only took his first steps in this field, he could feel how it helped him pushing back the darkness in his mind. Hopefully more of these kind of challenges would follow in the future. Luria Nova, land of opportunity, was healing his troubled soul. Coming here was the right decision.

A discrete cough brought him back to reality. Laura, his captain, had entered the room without him noticing. Now she had his attention, she spoke: "Sir, do you remember asking me to build an intelligence network, paying people in the streets for information? Well, something turned up. I believe it is best you come with me."

Kelindun raised an eyebrow, but did not question this capable woman's intuition. He followed her through several streets into an obscure alley, where they were awaited by a shady looking hobo.

"Speak up, peasant. What is it you have to tell me?", the young Knight ordered.

"Ah, good Sir. A most disturbing rumour has reached my unworthy ears. Surely you will reward me with lots of shiny gold. Let me tell you, one of the contenders in the poetry contest has been cheating. Lady Isabella of House Pavus was seen visiting many nobles, trying to influence their vote. And may I say, what a mighty fine way she found to do so. Word on the streets is, she has been showing her goodies, them good old twins, in exchange for votes", the man rattled while making gestures with his hands near his chest, representing the female forms.

Kelindun could not help but laugh. In fact, he could not stop for several minutes. When he calmed down a bit he said: " well, I should reward you for the amusement value alone. Unfortunately, I have no gold on me, perhaps an other metal will suffice?"

In the blink of an eye, he drew his sword, saying: "Here's a poem for you: Insulting a Noble woman with blatant lies, you should know you'll pay the price, you sealed your fate with what you said, say goodbye to your precious head."

One quick swing later, what once was one man was now separated into two pieces. "This improvising is quite fun actually. Practice does make perfect!"

Leif Wilkins

Leif's company set camp for a break to feed and water the horses on the way to Lupa-Lapu. He was reading the exchange of messages being sent across the realm among the lords. He looked at his men - sitting together, laughing patting each other on the back and sharing stories.

"I've built a commendable group of kind-hearted warriors" he thought "We have operated on a principle of having fun, respecting those around us, and living to make the world a better place"

"My Lord..." said Xavier, walking towards Leif cutting into an apple with his boot knife

"Yes Captain?" Leif looked up, only smiling with the right side of his mouth.

"You look troubled. I see fires in the distance. You told us that we are marching on the wasteland to build our experience and bolster our coffers. I know what this means - we are walking towards a slaughterhouse of unarmed villages, aren't we?" Xavier look into the distance.

"Xavier... This doesn't feel right. We have marched the entire day, the sky has been grey, and not a single song came to my mind. I believe we will lose the hearts of our men if we force them to pillage innocent villages, albeit unloyal peasants."

Xavier kept look into the distance without taking his sight off the smoke "My Lord... The Gwynnblades follow you not for riches, not for gold. We follow you because we believe in you, your principles, and the hell of a good time you show us. Whichever decision you make, we will follow you."

"Finish that apple Xavier, and ready the men. We go back to Nid Tek" Smiled Leif, feeling as though a hefty wench just jumped off his chest.

William Fitz Roberts

William read the last letter of the Imperial Magistrate. He closed his eyes, breathing slowly and methodically. Captain Godlinda looked up from where she was sitting.

‘Bill? Bill what is it?’. William gave no answer. The soldiers were sitting in the inn of a recently pillaged hamlet, enjoying the ale they had taken. Godlinda was nervous. She knew that look. She feared that look. She dreaded that look. She looked across the table to Anne, who was enjoying a drink with Kaspar and Marx. She coughed quietly, causing Anne to look up and nodded towards William. Anne looked over to her husband, her eyes widening. Manfred was sitting next to William, totally oblivious to what was happening

‘Damn him’, William said in a low voice.

‘Bill?’ Godlinda said again

‘Husband?’, Anne said, panic clear in her voice

‘Damn! Him!’ William roared, smashing his fist into the table. Manfred jumped, stunned by his cousin’s outburst

‘What is it?’ Anne asked standing up and walking slowly to where William sat. William, trembling with rage, handed over the letter. Anne read it, her own face twisting in fury. ‘The little fool’, she muttered, ‘the jumped up, self-important fool.’

Still shaking, Manfred said, ‘What is it, cousin?’ Suddenly, William stood up, flinging the table from him. Anne only just managed to dive out the way. For the first time in her life, she looked at William with genuine fear. The prisoners they had taken from the peasant mob they had fought earlier cowered in the corner behind them, shaking as William strode purposefully towards them. He towered above them, his face obscured in shadow

‘According to our honourable magistrate, you are all Lurian and should be protected’, William looked back at his shoulders, ‘However, the magistrate has no eyes here, so tell me’ he whispered, ‘is anyone going to really care if I do this?’ He grabbed the first peasant and smashed his head into the wall behind him.

‘Nothing? Come on, Nicholas, come and stop me’, he shouted at the ceiling. He paused. ‘No? Very well then’. He proceeded to kill each man that was knelt before him, calling out to Nicholas to try and stop him. At last he turned, his entire being slathered in blood and gore.

‘Johannes, come here!’ William’s scribe slowly walked over, bowing his head.

‘Master?’ he enquired, as usual calm and efficient despite his master’s depravities

‘Send this letter to each and every member of our family on this continent. The Archivals shall receive no hospitality in any of our houses. They shall receive no aid. Their goals shall not be our goals. We shall not show it, on the surface we shall show the courtesies necessary to their current station. But beneath that, we shall have nothing but hatred for their house. I declare vendetta and vow that one day, no matter how far away that is, an Archival shall feel a Fitz Roberts blade between their shoulders. But for now we wait, we will not damage this Realm through our pursuit of revenge. Though if our Bravi should happen to start a few brawls with Archival men, so be it.’ Johannes dutifully wrote all of this down, before looking up: ‘am I to send this to your cousins on other continents?’

William thought about this for a moment, before saying. ‘No, they have their own problems. This feud will not leave Dwilight’. He stormed out into the driving rain

Anne looked over to Johannes, her face cold and menacing. ‘If you ever send that letter to anyone, Fitz Roberts or otherwise, I shall kill your daughter. I shall talk to William. He will be calm in the morning. For now, send a letter saying that he respects the decision of the magistrate’ She turned and followed her husband into the rain.

Tyra Andrasta Bluelake

Travelling those few hours before she arrived to Giask, Tyra was taking side roads and getting the feel of the land. She always felt unsafe in main roads, too exposed. Her twenty-one men were also from Beluaterra and more than glad to follow her. She also felt the need to know every part of every region she would now belong to.

Still, messengers would find her. Tyra was baffled at how many letters she got. Several about looting which she read with interest - she had always enjoyed following a raid. Oh, but these courtly types had too many claims and laws. She could feel Duncan's happiness when reading her those letters. "You think this place is perfect to make a lady out of me, don't you, Dunc?"

"Milady read my mind!"

"It was all over your face! But don't go thinking you can have me wear frilly dresses and such." With a frown at that idea, she changed the subject "You know - I like this Dame Isabella's strength of character. We should write her. Maybe she'll be at the tourney!"

"You mean - I - this servant should write her. You really have to start dictating your letters, milady."

"But this is working so well! Tell Isabella I admire her and hope we can meet in Giask. Now I'm off this wagon to run with the men."

The scribe watched her run, sighed and before taking on a new parchment for the letter, added another item to his task list: -Find her a horse riding tutor.

That list was getting big.

Nicholas Archival

With a long, bleary yawn, Nicholas rose from his desk. Reading the vast array of incoming letters and penning his replies had been a tiring experience. A half-eaten supper sat nearby, pushed to near the edge of his table, cold and forgotten amidst all the tension. For hour upon hour he had remained in his manse's study, and had not left it since his arrival in Giask. But still, there was a certain glow of satisfaction about the Magistrate as he pushed open the door and, finally, left to breathe in the fresh air.

Loras awaited him at the balcony, pacing restlessly against the marble floor. From the fidgety bearing of his cousin, Nicholas quickly surmised that the boy - his squire - had something to say. Upon the soft footsteps approaching, the younger Archival turned to regard his elder and affixed him with a pointed look.

"You're still up, are you?" Nicholas began, "And, from the looks of it, there's something on your mind. What is it?"

"I've been hearing all about this back and forth between you and Grodno's Earl William."

At that, Nicholas quirked a brow. Of course he had; Brenyn was perhaps the most gossip-prone messenger he had ever hired. The fact that she had managed to reach Westgard so promptly to deliver a message or two was his saving grace.

"Do you disagree with me?"

"I don't know," Loras frowned. "It's a bit difficult to really say they're Lurian, isn't it? Besides, they're only peasants; if this William was putting estates to the torch, it would be different..."

Nicholas shook his head in exasperation, to emphasis the vehemence of his disagreement.

"It's not nearly as simple as that, Loras. It's true that the term 'Lurian' is often poorly-defined, but these lands - Lupa Lapu and elsewhere - belonged to us once, and with the grace of the Bloodstars, they will be so again soon enough. But if we allow our soldiers to rape, pillage and reave their way through the towns and villages, they will never willingly follow us."

"But they will fear us," the squire fired back. "Father says that fear is the only thing that really forces obedience."

"Yes, they will be frightened. Mothers will tell their children of the Fitz Roberts monsters who will steal them away if they're naughty. But I will tell you this; devotion is far more powerful than fear. The peasantry will learn to truly appreciate the stability and prosperity that a proper hierarchy provides. Rule generously and there will be no reason for them to harbour thoughts of dissent. However, if you take away their livelihood, they will simply bide their time, waiting for the chance to rise up. Successful or not, revolt is an embarrassment to the realm."

Loras remained quiet throughout the lecture, knowing better than to interrupt his cousin. The weariness of a few minutes ago appeared to have been forgotten as the matter awoke him.

"It might seem like William is the practical man, seeing the situation for what it is and how it best benefits us, while I am a stubborn idealist, but it's not truly the case. Earl William no doubt thinks he is doing what's best, and I do not doubt his letters of compliance were written through gritted teeth, but all he encourages is short-termism. I look to our future; where our borders are brought to their fullest and the people we presume to rule toil productively. And to have that future become a reality, not just the pleasing ideal, we need their loyalty. That will never come if they're slaughtered in their droves today."

After such a lengthy monologue, Nicholas took a moment to gulp in some air. Loras remained silent, chewing on the inside of his cheek, sulking as though he had been scolded and rebuked.

"It also helps that abstaining from base cruelty is the right thing to do," Nicholas added with a soft, dry chuckle. With that, the tension in the air between them began to fade. The younger man loosed a deep sigh.

"I see your point, cousin," Loras eventually relented. "Even though I'm not sure I agree with you. But I'll put some more thought to it... and then I'll come back to challenge you on this again."

"Good. What would be the point in taking you to squire if you weren't able to think for yourself? If I'd ever wanted a mindless follower, perhaps I'd have taken one of William's men for my own. But for now, we both need our rest. It wouldn't do to ride out to meet the rest of the court with black rings around our eyes.&qu

With that, the Magistrate ushered the younger Archival back indoors. When he had sent him off to his bed-chambers, Nicholas strode back toward his study. The night was, tragically, still young and he had more letters yet to write. His hand and wrist began to sting painfully in reflex at further exertion. The war scars of a bureaucrat.

6th May

Winter Day -- Poryatu

Solomon Greybrook

Returning back to the Capital after a few weeks on the road, Solomon was at ease within his estate. It had been too long. Watching the ships from his chair by the Grand Harbor, it was nostalgic. Tradesmen, diplomats, knights, peasants and nobles alike all had to come to the shore this day. However, what caught Solomon's eye was the golden statue that stood in the harbor. Getting out of his chair, Solomon strolled down the stairs from his home onto the path down into the Harbor itself. A few minutes pass and Solomon arrived at what he sees every day from his home, the Golden Statue. Bending down, Solomon read the inscription:

A Golden Statue of Kurlock holding his infamous Toe Crusher to commemorate the victory of Sandalak over the Third South Island on July 25, 2016 by Pythia Jane Fletcher Chamberlain, Wyvern Warlord Isenthorpe Tezokian, Griffin Ghost Enkimahru Dragoness, and Lord Raven Alexei Dolohov.

No matter how many times he saw this statue that shined in the light, he could never place the point in history this statue depicted. Maybe it might be due to his lack of reading. Regardless, Solomon stood back and analysed the Golden Statue and muttered:

'Toe Crusher is a terrible name.'

Turning on his heel, Solomon went back up the path from which he came. Today was a day of sword fighting and sparring, not to be spent in the library or even in his chair.

The tournament awaited...

Winter Evening -- Poryatu

Leif Wilkins

Leif looked at the scroll in front of him titled Poetry Contest Announcement and eagerly looked for the first place winner. It was Isabella. He suspected this may be the result given her art was beautiful and fit to rival his.

• sigh* "You need to do better Leif... The last time you got second place was in the Annual Imp Spring Triathlon Fare" Leif grimaced.

Leif was competitive. In his mind winning a second place in anything was equivalent to receiving but a peck from a wench after working his magic for a full night. Choosing not to lose spirit, he decided to be a good sport, and stay away from being a sore loser. He felt thankful for the newly acquired funds that would sponsor new inspiration and celebrate the triumph with his company. He admired Sir Aylwin and his dedication to being a patron of the arts. And as far Dame Isabella, even though he only won a second place in this competition, he had but a thought maybe he can win first place in something else.

Leif smiled as he rode on towards Santoo to assist with the monster infestation.

"As Dean of the University of Dwilight, and tutor for field research in all of its forms, I do so solemnly swear to;

Treat each and every student, graduate, and Dean with the respect they deserve as an individual, allowing no bias for creed, caste, or colour to alter my perception of their worth.

Always uphold the standards of peerless education, service, and education that the University represents.

Not infringe upon the educational structures of other Deans without going through the correct hierarchy of authority first.

Be punctual, communicative, and devoted to my tutelage, with the understanding that failure on my behalf to uphold these values is solely my responsibility, and that my position of Dean may be made forfeit if so."

Recited Leif as the new Dean of Art of the University of Dwilight.

Leif felt ecstatic for progressing in the world of Art, and was looking forward to what was to come. Education, enlightenment, beautiful students.

Kaguya Fujiwara

Two casualties. Wounds, not deaths.

Kaguya considered herself fortunate given the odds. There were no reinforcements. Not that she had expected any; the roads were notoriously unreliable in the mud and slush of winter even in the heart of the Empire, and would slow any march to the site of battle.

In any case the whole affair was over rather quickly.

There was the protective box that Alfreid and her retainers had formed around her. She remembered O-yoroi gleaming in the evening sun, the light catching the vibrant colours of each warrior's armour as her men unlimbered their yumi.

Then there was a shout from Alfreid and the coordinated twang of bowstrings as arrows were loosed. Several times they repeated this to great effect, but it was not enough.

Kaguya remembered the sudden din as the rabid pack closed in too close for the Yamatai longbows. Swords were drawn, her own included; a brilliant ripple of polished steel against the oncoming masses of fang and claw. At some point Alfreid had moved slightly closer, perhaps subconsciously, to shield her against the worst of it. His swept-hilted sabre of Lurian make distinctively juxtaposed against her own Yamatai tachi. Alfreid's easy stance and firm grip alluded to hours upon hours of practical fencing routines. Hers, a technique that was more rigidly traditional than experiential.

She recalled the slobbering roar of the enemy and the defiant warcry of her retainers.

Then it was over seemingly in moments.

There was thickening blood and ichor on her sword. Not her own, she realised with significant relief, though she did not recall how and when she had struck one of the beasts.

"Are you alright, milady?"

The voice was Alfreid's. Kaguya found him behind her, carefully wiping down his sabre.

"I... Yes. I am." She shook her head slowly in an attempt to clear it. "I shall have to sit down, for a moment, I think."

"Is that so?"

Alfreid's response was characteristically calm, although Kaguya could see some alarm in her Captain-butler's eyes.

"I am unhurt, if that is your concern." She held up a hand to forestall any further comment from him. "Just... Just see to my wounded men. Please. I need some time alone."

"Of course, milady."

Titos Drakos

As the ferry drew up to the docks, Titos was already leaping onto the boardwalk, determined never to get onto one of the accursed things ever again. He had suffered storms, delays from there being not enough wind, and incompetent navigators getting lost. He had had enough. From now on, he would keep both feet firmly on dry land. He waited only long enough for his men to disembark before striding away from the docks, slamming his helmet back onto his head. Once his men had assembled into marching formation he led them straight out of the city, parting the gawking crowds.

Leif Wilkins

Leif got up from his knees, took a few steps back, and admired his new travel tent that he finished putting together with the help of Xavier, Jimmy, and Olgierd. The tent was of a deep green fabric, adorned with a golden-yellow trim similar to that of his family's heraldry. It had a tall peak, with Luria's flag gracefully swimming in the wind. He went inside.

It was built to replicate his chambers in Irvington. Silk pillows of red, green, and blue, gilded in yellow, imported from the Sultanate of Arabesque across the sea were assembled together to form a bed. Candle-light kept the room bright, dancing playfully with each flicker. An incense kept the room smelling of citrus and mint. To replace the heavy oak table in his study, stood a smaller pinewood desk with quil and parchment.

"Perfect" thought Leif, his hands resting on his hips as he took a deep breath. "The only thing that is missing is a barrel of fine Southern Pinot Grigio".

Leif was now ready to properly tend to his duties as Dean of Art, with an appropriate environment to develop the year's curriculum. Now that he will need to travel more frequently than in his past, he could feel at home anywhere he went.

"Only 20 gold pieces for this magnificent assembly my lord? They may as well call you a thief!" Smiled Xavier

"Watch it Xavier! The only thing I steal is people's heart! But indeed, this was a great deal - and a worthy investment considering this came from the earnings of the Poetry Competition" winked Leif

7th May

Winter Day -- Poryatu

Sofia Nistalia

Sofia and her men lined up on the town's entry, the militias gathered behind them. The bright purple armours a stark contrast to the far less equipped militias. Her men were to hold the line at all costs, the aberrations walked forth towards the town, drooling and swaying as they went.

-We shall hold at all cost! None shall pass!

Sofia's yell incited a battle-cry from the rallied militias, they needed the morale boost against the monsters that appraoached. Winds from the north swayed the crops around them, the Euschean sea was with Luria on this war. The crude pallisades were manned by a few archers, raising their bows and shooting at the incoming monsters. As the first arrows struck, they broke into a charge. The archers retreated, and her men steeled for the charge.

It was for naught. The monsters, three times their size, broke through the shieldline as they shoved onwards, the militia quickly assisting their line, blade met flesh and claw met steel, but the monsters seemed endless. One fell, and another took its place. The line was forced to retreat, Sofia losing a few men during their retreat, until the monsters finally spreaded. The battle was over, the town was lost.

-Retreat!

Her voice echoed through the battlefield, and the militias and her men retreated, Sofia watching as men, women, children and cattle were torn apart and eaten alive. Sofia turned around, taking out her damaged chestplate and grabbing her sword, digging through the wound on her shoulder to pull out a claw torn from its owner, the bone digging deep on her flesh as her men retreated, the menders working on her most injured soldiers as they traveled at this snail's pace. This would be a long walk home, and her men were needed in Thar Goruth.

Isabella Pavus

Isabella had been spending the whole day training in Giask in private. As the evening neared, one of her men barged in. She instinctively pointing her blade in his direction, before lowering it. "What is it?" she asked.

"We've orders to move out. Grodno is overrun. We must head for Outer Giask."

"I will finish up my training and have a short rest. Then, we will leave immediately, seeking to arrive by morning."

Solomon Greybrook

Despite the winter wind battering the Grand Harbor, Solomon ate his oats outside overlooking the waves beat against the shore as the sun was covered up by the clouds high in the sky. Suddenly, along the path that led to the shore, courtier Harvard, rather out of breath, began shouting:

'Sire! Sire! Urgent orders from the Marshal!'

Standing up, Solomon got out of his chair, put his bowl to the side and began to walk down from the house to meet Harvard at the gate. Gesturing outward with his hand, Harvard passed the rather battered letter to Solomon. With one quick skim, Solomon passed back to the courtier the letter with unease:

'Ensure that it is stored with the others, I need to summon the Guard.'

'Where are you going to take the Guard sire? Aren't you supposed to be participating in the tournament?'

'Harvard,' Solomon spoke with a far more assertive tone, 'some things are more important to Luria. Evil lurks on the shores of Grodno. Ensure Captain Hadroria reports to me before the sun sets.'

With that, Solomon donned his gloves and walked inside the house.

Nicholas Archival

Nicholas strode back through the gates to the manse. His sable cloak swept behind him, whipping upwards in the morning breeze, while he clutched tightly the pommel of his sword. The Silver Quivers were readying themselves swiftly; there was no time for the minor repairs they were due in Giask, there were other matters to attend to.

"Cousin, what's going on?" called Loras, rushing over to join him, confusion registering on his expression.

"It seems that Luria has been hit by the monsters which have been plaguing the other realms of Dwilight. There's a rallying call issued to Outer Giask - we're going to join it."

Loras looked over toward the retinue. Many seemed nervous or inefficient in their preparations. It was clear they had little experience in working as a unit, much less fighting.

"You want to lead them into the fight?"

"Yes," Nicholas sighed. "It is by no means ideal, and I've no doubt we will not provide a huge deal to the military response... but the monsters are there, and we are here. Men of House Archival are not cowards; we will do what we can, when we can. Ready your horse and armour."

William Fitz Roberts

William hears news of Grodno

The war elephants were marching through Nid Tek on the way to Askileon, with William, Godlinda and Anne riding alongside the beasts enjoying the beauty of the surrounding countryside. They were in deep conversation, laughing about the recent successes in Lupa Lapu when they saw a rider in the distance, approaching at break-neck speed. One of the Doppelsöldners atop of the elephants raised his arbalest in anticipation, but William held up his hand. The rider reined in alongside William, out of breath.

‘Message from your brother, m’lord’, the rider said, holding out a piece of parchment

‘My brother?’, William raised an eyebrow taking the letter, ‘what does Leopold want?’, He quickly scanned the letter, his eyes widening.

‘Johannes, send out a change of orders to the army now, they are to gather in Nid Tek as one force. Those in Giask are to go to Outer Giask at once. Godlinda, tell the troops to set a double pace now!!! We are needed in the south’

‘Why, what has happened?’, Anne asked, growing worried. William handed her the letter. She quickly read it and cried, ‘no, not my girls’, and spurred her horse forwards, riding in the direction that the messenger had come from, discarding the letter.

Godlinda picked up the letter and read:

Brother,

Dire news. This morning a large pack of monsters invaded Grodno from the sea. Sea Watch has been overrun. The militia, the Viscountess Sofia and King Matthew put up a valiant defence given us time to fortify Fox Hall. We are barricaded inside and the Bravi are preparing to defend us. We should be able to hold out a few days. The twins are safe, as are Prospero, Lucrezia and Ranuccio. Maria and Girolama are also safe, and Girolama has sent a message to Franz but I doubt it will arrive for at least a week, if not more. However, Henriette was wounded helping Karl barricade the front gates

I am not sure how many messengers I will be able to sneak out past the horde, brother, but will try to send word again

Aut familia aut nihil

Godlinda looked up from this last line and whispered, ‘Henriette?’, before spurring her horse after Anne.

Tyra Andrasta Bluelake

Tyra had slept on the floor that night. It had felt much more familiar than the soft, layered bed in the chambers she had been offered at the palace. Looking at the smashed washbasin on the corner, the dame frowned. Those nightmares always came when she felt out of place. Anxiously, she got up and started getting dressed. Tunic, leather, chainmail. Today was another day for her to practice fighting at the academy... She had to admit she had enjoyed that, as boring as it sounded at first. The tutor had made her dance and evade and strike. He wasn't as random as the declawed, defanged monsters they had play fought as children, which made it harder. She had had to be smart.

As she was arranging her pale strawberry hair in a series of small braids on the side, just enough to remove it from her face but leaving the rest of it quite wild, Duncan knocked on the door. Exact time, precise knocks, always proper, Duncan. She thought as she opened for him. Seeing her in fighting garb, he looked surprised. "Have you gotten the news already, milady?" "I'm a knight, Duncan, not a lady. And what news? Have they drawn the tourney names?!" His eyes went from the pristine bed, into the messy floor bed of furs, to the broken basin. "No, that's not the news. A big horde of monsters arrived by sea into Grodno. It seems the competition might be suspended, or not, but in any case your marshal requests your presence in Outer Giask to prepare." He could see disappointment cross the young dame's face, along with relief But, why?, and finally her usual countenance when it came to monsters: ferocious exhilaration.

Letters were sent, questions were asked, paraphernalia checked and purchased, and they were soon ready to leave. As they hit the road, Tyra enjoyed the freedom of being outside, and the relief of postponing the tourney... She didn't feel quite ready to face lots of nobility at once, the emperor, a queen, maybe her kingly relative, or even worse... What if a Bluelake would have been there? Her blood boiled at the thought.

Aldrakar Renodin

Defending the Realm

With the reports coming in of ravenous beasts raging across the plains and rockscapes of Grodno Aldrakar had already send word to the Imperial Marshal to deal with the situation early in the morning. As the hours of the day passed by, more Nobles added their concern and it pleased him to see such dedication and sense of purpose among them. Dressed in resplendent oaken brown and decorated with gold the warriors of the Rendorian Elite Marched through the streets of Giask. The Imperial Banner fierce above their heads. The Citizens of the great city looked on as they saw the Emperor himself riding out to meet this threat of claw and fang.

Word has been left, in private hands, to be delivered to the Aeon Rosalind in person.

Rosalind,

These words are from me to you and they begin with an apology.

Early this morning word reached me that a force of monsters had invaded Grodno from the seas. They equal an army akin to that of any of the neighboring Realms of Luria. Fortunately that is all they represent and it should be dealt with absent lasting problems. Sadly, that means I must ride out as honor demands and cannot meet you this evening as I had hoped I could. With luck, the affair should take some two to three days, including the ride back to Giask. Should you still be within the Golden City at that time, I shall do what I can to make up for lost time.

In the interim you could visit the Silver City of Askileon and be back in Giask well before I do.

Aldrakar.

The scroll was placed in Rosalind's hands by a shrewd looking man. Dressed sharply and perhaps thirty five summers old. The badge of office signified that he was part of the Emperor's personal Retinue.