Goldwater Family/Wolfram/Blood River

The Storm Approaches

Roleplay from Wolfram Goldwater

Message sent to Everyone in Troyes

Wolfram overlooked the rolling hills of Troyes, covered by sprawling camps and tents and listened to the everpresent commotion. It seemed the camp was still awake despite the late night hours as he could hear soldier chanting, singing, brawling - all that he could expect to hear in a military camp. He looked to the other side of the field, where the dim light of campfires signalled the outlines of the Perdanite and Caligan camp, silent and buried in his thoughts. He had never seen such large armies, such collection of knights and soldiers before. The years spent defending the Wall of Westgard, raiding under the banner of Tol Godora and navigating the Beluaterran wilderness taught him not to think about these things and act accordingly, but he still couldn't help himself from feeling a sense of awe. A weird, very disturbing kind of awe. Tomorrow, they will fight. They will kill and spill blood of others and their own alike. But right now, Wolfram admired the stars and nature at night, listened to the songs of common soldiers and drank. "Dalai, Black flame, Shadow-mother, Mistress of the Depths," he muttered, staring at the decorated sword lying at his feet "guide my path and hand, when we clash tomorrow, so that I won't disgrace my house and my liege. Guide my hand when I - slay your sons and daughters, for it must be done." His voice shook as the whispered the last words, looking up into the darkness. "Be blessed by Ash and Sea." Dark wine poured like blood from his wine skin as it fell out of his hand, flowing over his sword and down into the valley.

Wolfram Goldwater (Knight of Troyes)

Roleplay from Apollyon Daubeny

Message sent to Everyone in Troyes

Apollyon looked out over the river and the fluttering banners of the approaching enemy army. He never thought he'd be on the northern side of the Bescanon but fate had always been strange for Apollyon. He was clad in his silver and gold steel armor a swirling fire pattern painted across the armor. Flying from his tent and the tents of his soldiers was a banner of a flaming golden sun surrounded by orange fire upon a white field. The symbol of the Knights of the Blazing Dawn, a homage to the past that had led him to where he was now. Looking at reports and calculating statistics Apollyon let out a breath he didn't know he was holding in. He ran a hand through his hair, part of him still waited almost hoping that Lorelai would stride into the tent and whisk away all his problems like she used to. But it would do him no good, she was his queen and he had never held her heart. This thought brought a small tear that he brushed away, the past was not worth the thought nor the tears. He couldn't remember much from that time, only the feelings. Warmth, hope, despair and rage. Apollyon was a born soldier, his whole life had been one fight and then another, he had always wanted something more but each time he had tried to find peace he had been dragged back into war. First his exile to Perleone, then his banishment in the wilds of the Isle and again in Kalmar and each time that peace was robbed from him. Each time those around him handed him a sword and shield and told him where to go, where to bleed and where to fight. He hated that, the feeling of battle had at one time soothed him but Apollyon had long since lost any sense of calm or joy from battle. But his talent for violence was not to be discredited and though he'd grown rusty he was still a soldier through and through. Turning to the spear that was resting on its rack Apollyon took it in his hands, looking at the spear tip he dipped it into the nearby jar of pitch and lit it alight. Happy to see the steel retain it's sharpness and strength despite the fire, Apollyon left the war tent. He turned to his men and raised the burning spear high into the air like a banner. "Knights of the Blazing Dawn, Men and Women of the Dark Guard. Perdan and Caligus march against us, stand tall and do not fear the coming dark. We are the bringers of the Dawn and the wielders of the flame. We will carve through them like hot knives through butter, they will break before us like water upon rock. We won't fail, We can't fail. Fight for your home, fight for your loved ones. Let the thoughts of that which you cherish guide each spear thrust and each arrow loosed. We are the Dark Guard of Eponllyn, just let them try and take Troyes." The Knights and nearby soldiers cheered and Apollyon stabbed the spear into the ground and returned into the war tent. Sighing he looked up at elvish dueling armor, a memory of love and joy danced along his mind and Apollyon smiled. "Whatever happens next, this is for you Lori, for you and Aila. I won't fail you again. If they want to hurt you then they'll have to go through me. I promise. I couldn't protect you or her once, I will not repeat that mistake, I'll show you. I am not the monster of Perdan." Apollyon felt a sense of grim determination wash over him and prepared his weapons and armor, the coming battle would be fierce but he would not yield, not this time.

Apollyon Daubeny (Knight of Troyes)

Roleplay from Vidran Konran

Message sent to Everyone in Troyes

War has come in all its brutality, all its glory..... Vidran's mind was racing. Was this it? The first taste of true combat. Thoughts of honour and glory rushed through his head. The first battle of Vidran Konran. He has been in combat before of course.... slaying minor incursions against monsters and the undead. But this was different. The opponents he faced were far more cunning then any beast. Deadlier then any shambling monstrosity. Man! No undead could match the horrors that mankind could inflict upon another when they put there mind to it. Brutality? Vidran was convinced that the monsters learned that from us. The reality was dawning upon him with every hour. Dueling couldn't prepare him for a battle, tournaments couldn't prepare him for a war. Yet here he was about to engage in truly monumental fight. He had been lucky in a sense, never once having had to take another humans life. But right now he couldn't deny that he would of much preferred a small skirmish to *ease him in* to this level of warfare. He nervously glanced around watching more and more units flood over the bridge into the outskirts of Troyes. The clunking of iron, steel, studded leather and hooves permeated the air as the combined forces of Perdan and Caligus assembled. He had long since lost count of the scores of soldiers that now surrounded him. He shivered as a cold wind seemed blew over him..... Even the sky itself seemed to shudder and dim for a moment. In that instant all the noise stopped. The clanking from the marching ceased. Even the birds went silent. He shook his head as he felt himself lost in thought once more Silence? what is going on..... no no no this cant be right... the sky definitely went dark... that's impossible...... wait calm down...... its fine really.... just my imagination... just nerves... that's all it is just relax its all in your h..... A voice broke his inner monologue, "Did you just see what happened to the sky, amazing! I'm taking it as a good omen" A voice of, what sounded like unreasonable confidence? he wasn't certain. Vidran could not tell who had said it. Nor did he care at this moment. Things just felt. Wrong. Vidran remained still, unable to take his eyes off the sky, he was partially relieved that he hadn't imagined it, the sky really had dimmed. Still he had not been in Troyes before. Perhaps such phenomena were normal here. He felt almost calm thinking this, relaxing slightly as he watched a flock of ravens in the distance.... It was then he heard what sounded like a soft crack followed by a low screech. His eyes darted searching for the unknown source of this sound. From below? Don't be stupid mud doesn't make noise.... Clink.... There it is again... what is that. He focused intently, concentrating.. it almost sounded like it came from my left arm... Crunch. My shield!?? Impossible! He quickly unfastening it holding it loosely for a moment, his vision locked in perpetuity as its shape seemed to warp and distort in front of him. He dropped it; the smell of acrid metal began to fill his lungs as it appeared to age and decay before his very eyes. He raised his head wondering why no one is his unit had come to him over the utter impossibility happening in front of him. But to his horror, others in his unit had been effected as well. There spears tips becoming rusted, fragile and brittle. His legs wobbled as he collapsed in front of his disintegrating shield as the thing continued to tear and corrode. "IS.... IS THIS WHAT WAR IS?" He had meant to think it. But the thoughts escaped his lips. War has come in all its brutality, all its glory..... And all its madness!

Vidran Konran (Viscount of Beziers)

Roleplay from Aila Storme

Message sent to Everyone in Troyes

“Your new armor looks splendid” A voice somewhere nearby her rambles, fastening shining silver clasps and supple leather straps as she stands lost in thought. Gideon nudges her ‘accidentally’ while tightening a strap to jolt her from the fog she had buried herself in within her mind, and tries again “Daubeny outdid himself” “Mmh” Aila barely responds, only looking down at herself in armor that was truly finer than any that she had owned over the years. A visor that echoed the shape of a falcon’s hooked beak and emblems throughout proudly touting the Storme Heraldry, all polished and looking as brand new as it truly was. She had never commanded Calvary before, so all of her gear was meant for archery. This new suit was a good way to enter a new type of combat but even so, she looked glum. Gideon has tried all he can, and stays by her side in supportive silence as he continues to ready her for battle. How did it come to this? Just days before the summer three armies had lined up at the border of her own little home, and looking out at the banners of what had once been her friends brought a darkness into the heart of the Duchess. Magics swirl in the air as for the hundredth time in her life Aila faced odds that did not favor her at all. Troyes had been her home since she had left Perdan, hoping to leave the slow moving politics and twisted perceptions of its council far behind her. The years had been filled with joy, parties, events and babies to go along with a slower sort of life she had never been used to. She had grown up in Perdan city with its crowded smells and noises and thought that was what she loved most, but here in Troyes she had found a different life to love. A life that flowed with the changing of the seasons as the farmhouse she had taken as an estate demanded, rather than the demands of Kings and Queens. A life where she could have a court debating turnip quality in the morning and spend the evening riding through the woods on her Dwilish mare. Days that ended in a warm bed with books spread out to read to a child. Her only child, who had only known the tracks between his idyllic farmhouse in Troyes and his Mother’s castles in Westmoor. She thought of the says she had held her son and rode the peaceful wagon trails between farms, or the summer before when she had held him on her lap in the river on the days it was too hot to do anything else. A lump rises to her throat as she thinks of him, her baby boy with his bright green eyes and an endearing thirst for truth as he goes along his life learning all the things children must learn. He sits in Westmoor now away from her but safe with staff. Aila knows she is his only family, and his only hope of growing up in a realm not dominated and crushed beneath the jealousy she had sown in her life. In this moment on the eve of battle she bitterly regrets doing all she had done for Perdan, all that she had achieved in her youth. All the titles, all the power, all the connections in the world…She would trade all of it for just one more summer with her son.

Aila Storme (Duchess of Northern Eponllyn)

Roleplay from Hallvar Schancke

Message sent to Everyone in Troyes

"Civil about it...." In his 115th year Hallvar sat propped up on his horse, overseeing his men digging trenches and raising palisades in the trampled down, brown soil of Troyes. His thoughts had wandered to the Gardens in Kazakh, where all the beatiful greenery was coming alive at this time of the year, as a messenger arrived delivering a letter from a young Earl of Tokat, Dux Militum of Caligus, asking for politeness in the apparently unavoidalbe encounters upcoming. The old man, having seen enought battles to sink a continent, kept pondering for himself; "With the possible exception of titles in the foreign Military.... What's so civil about war, anyway," Despite efforts he could not let these thoughts lie this dim evening, and headed for the tent where he intended to put his thoughts to parchement. Perhaps, they could be added to this tune his Skald had constantly been humming on?

Hallvar Schancke (Steward of Kazakh)

Roleplay from Lucius Poe

Message sent to Everyone in Troyes

Lucius strutted across the field of Troyes, his unit stood perfectly still as he admired himself in their mirrored shields. He watched as the banners of his friends came into vision, he recognised so many and it felt wrong. The harshness of this reality has finally hit home. in his sorrow he had not felt the slow thud in his ears, the beating of invisible drums that constantly plagued his life. His hands shook as he thumbed through the scrolls in his possession, he sought to protect his men and bless their armour. I will protect them “You will kill my friends” sneered Lucius. I’ll save them The Margrave in all his despair, he did the unthinkable and considered it. This was enough for him to take over. With wild eyes he read through the scrolls in his hands and laughed as he allowed some to fall to the floor. He read the words of the first one, then the second, his lips stung with acid that soon chilled with breath as cold as ice. ”Vidran….Isana” they laughed as his bloodied lips cracked, turning to his unit he smiled. WE ARE LUCIUS

Lucius Poe (Duke of Eleador)

Roleplay from Christopher Stewart

Message sent to Everyone in Troyes

Looking over the field, he felt sick. So many of these nobles he knew. One he considered a brother in every aspect. What a waste of so many warriors due to politics of so few. Their Queen mentioned the history of Eponllyn and how awful we are, yet most of us have been here mere months instead of years. Some of us remember her rule as Perdanese ourselves. We remember a war with Yssrgard that politics stood at the doors to their capital city, along with her army. So sad that there are those still ruling and ruining their realms with politics. He turned and walked away.

Christopher Stewart (Duke of the Omsk Peninsula)

To Kill a Lion

Roleplay from Wolfram Goldwater

Message sent to Everyone in Troyes

"Attack!" Riders spured their horses and the line moved forward, like a wave of steel rushing across the field. Wolfram's outriders rode next to some knights from Poitiers, the banner of house Storme and their black and blue tabards shining in the morning sun. Wolfram couched his lance and raised his shield as the enemy lines approached, the thoughts and doubts of yesterday have disappeared like morning mist. He led his troops with a clear head and steady hand, bursting out with laughter just moments before they hit the enemy lines. "I messed up, m'lord. I messed up." Wolfram looked in the dying man's eyes as he leaned above him, patting his shoulder. It was Markvart, one of the mercenaries he hired in Eidulb, a scarred and ruthless soldier and one of his most loyal followers. He saved Wolfram's life in Sabadell, he sailed with him, ate and fought with him. Now he was lying in a puddle of his own blood, a broken spear shaft sticking out of his unprotected groin. His face twisted with pain as he tried to speak up, coughing out blood instead. "B- but we... we got them good, aye? M-M'lord." "We sure as hell did, " Wolfram said with a chuckle, lighting up the mood and putting a small, almost unrecognisable smile on Markvart's face. A smile, which stuck to his face forever. Wolfram let out a quiet sigh as he placed the man's sword on his chest, covering him with his Storme-coloured cloak. "You served me well, Markvart, may your path always be illuminated. Dalai and the Black flame will look after you, until the end of days."

Wolfram Goldwater (Knight of Troyes)

Roleplay from Benjamin Pryde

Message sent to Everyone in Troyes

Benjamin looked around at all of the dead men and animals around him. He had known it would come to this one day. The one styling herself a queen had started her reign as an oathbreaker and that continued to dominate her legacy. He considered challenging the oathbreaker to a duel, but he already had done that. She had failed to show, surrendering the field of honor to him, and he could gain nothing more from her. Well, there was Oligarch. But others had claimed Oligarch and he would not oppose them. The Last Free Lord of Oligarch smiled and scanned the immediate area. He found the man he was looking for and waved him over. The scout bounded up to him and gave him a quick bow. "What would you like, Sire?" "Keep an eye out for enemies," Duke Benjamin of the Riverlands and Oligarch ordered. The scout raised an eyebrow as if to say he had already planned on doing that. Benjamin chuckled at the expression. "And have your people watch the route back to the bridge. We will be returning home rather quickly I think. I do not wish to be stuck in a traffic jam with the enemy crowding our rear." The scout cocked his head to the side and nodded. "Yes, Sire. I believe my men can handle that."

Benjamin Pryde (Duke of the Riverlands and Greater Oligarch)

Roleplay from Lucius Poe

Message sent to Everyone in Troyes

Lucius chuckled to himself as the strong winds in Troyes blew his hair around wildly, he had abandoned his helmet before the battle has even begun, choosing to experience the thrill of death with his senses undisturbed. The first formation of cavalry stormed ahead of him as he gave the command for his unit to advance, his wife the Queen of Eponllyn appeared on his right side, her Oligarch Pony Club forming part of the second wave. "Kill for the living my love, and kill for the dead" he roared as she charged ahead. Perfection Personified trudged across the battlefield in the wake of their brutal charge, broken bodies of Perdanese and Caligus soldiers lay scattered across the field. My turn His lips curled into a sneer as the music began to build in his mind, a trickle of blood fell from his ears as the drums began to play, Countess Hannelore of Mashhad was the first enemy he encountered as his unit clattered into hers, the crazed swordsman didn't stop as he broke the frontlines. There he was. The Patriarch of Caligus, not alone of course he was supported by Joreb the Earl of Perdan Mines and Anastassia the First Orator and Baroness of Winkamus. "We have come for your head" he roared as he launched himself into the three opposing units with his own. Pasquale Contéfigardo, Patriarch of Caligus, Royal of Caligus, Duke of the Lion's Mane has been wounded by Perfection Personified (49). Anastassia D'Anglos, First Orator of Caligus, Baroness of Winkamus has been wounded by Perfection Personified (49). Joreb deLacy, Earl of Perdan Mines has been wounded by Perfection Personified (49) Lucius watched as his own unit retreated from the carnage, the enemy had fought bravely against the army of Eponllyn. It was now that he realised he had the support of the full ranged forces of Eponllyn behind him. The Duke of Eleador allowed himself to fall, the blood soaked ground squelching as he stared up from amongst the dead. Sweeping his arms and legs he made himself an angel in the crimson dirt, allowing his wretched form to shriek with laughter.

Lucius Poe (Duke of Eleador)

Roleplay from Vidran Konran

Message sent to Everyone in Troyes

The first battle had been brutal.... the second had been a slaughter. "How many Perdan nobles wounded today" Vidran asked his captain wearily "Twelve in total.... many suffered multiple wounds." "More then half of us... And the casualties sustained to my own unit?" "unfortunately" The captain took a deep breath before continuing, "not a single one of us came out of the battles unscathed, 36 dead, 54 wounded.... with the exception of you my lord..." there was a pause. Captain Hildemar seemed to ponder those odds as he nursed his injured arm. In his case he had gotten off easy. A glancing arrow hit he could easily recover from... but still.... "how.... how did you manage to get out safely, without any wounds in both battles.... and you didn't even have your shield..." Vidran's eyes glossed over as he thought back. Truthfully, he wasn't certain himself. 5 hours earlier..... No unit.... Eisenritter's force had seen to that. But somehow he was still moving; exhausted, but still alive. He had tried to make it back to his lines without getting captured but it seemed near impossible. There were soldiers everywhere. He crouched low as he tried to make his past yet another score of men, relying on the confusion of battle to mask his approach. "OVER THERE" Vidran's heart sank. Running was pointless.... the way to safety was behind these soldiers. He was so close, he had nearly made it out and now..... There was nothing for it.... He would have to fight his way out.... somehow. He swore under his helmet as he steadied himself; the soldiers had surrounded him, but were keeping there distance. Just what were they doing? A lone figure approached, a generously built noble, the clear leader of this unit. There was a pause... as if both men were determining if words were at all relevant right now. Vidran made the first move, swinging his sword in a deep vertical arc, the blade sung through the air before it was parried almost lazily by the rotund figure in front of him..... Vidran moved to swing again but his opponent reacted forcing him on the defensive. He could feel his body strain as he felt the repeated impacts caused by blade clashing against blade took there tole.... Then it happened, an opening. Vidran grinned as he lunged forward but then..... *THUD* it had been a feint. His vision blurred as he felt the unmistakable blow to his helmet. He tried to maintain his stance but felt his muscles give in as he collapsed... He slipped in and out of consciousness as he heard an almost amused laughter. He awoke an hour later in a small hut away from the battlefield. Had someone come to his rescue? He didn't know. It didn't matter now. He had survived two major battles in a day; and gotten out with nothing more then a headache and a ruined shield.

Vidran Konran (Viscount of Beziers)

Hunters in the Woods

Roleplay from Wolfram Goldwater

Message sent to Everyone in Troyes

"Astral Knights, probably. I've seen their banner in the Altar, m'lord." Wolfram and one of his mercenaries stood up in their saddles, trying to recognize as much as they could from their current position. A small group of men was before them, hastily assembled around a cart and some tents, obviously set up for the wounded. Although tired and without their commander, they still manage to quickly form up a wall of shields, silently observing the obviously more numerous riders around them. "You fought enough already, just look around! Drop your weapons!" Wolfram shouted at the formation, signalling his men to hold back. "Come and get them, Eponlli!" Shouted one of the perdanite knights in response as they raised their shields with the determination akin to a cornered animal. "Your wish is granted," whispered Wolfram and a small, unsettling smile settled on his face. He didn't really have the capacity to look after prisoners and still didn't forget all those good soldiers , friends and companions he lost in the last battle. He turned towards his captain as he drew his sword and the sounds of blades sliding from their scabbards spread across the line. "Battle line, right into them. Give no quarter, I WANT THEIR HEADS!" Thirty riders answered in unison as they spured their horses and the unit moved like a wave towards the damned perdanites.

Wolfram Goldwater (Knight of Troyes)