Arnickles Renodin/Maura/OS june

Roleplay from Lucius Archival (7 days, 21 hours ago)

message to all nobles of Obia'Syela Faith

It was quite in the temple at this hour. Most of the locals of Athol Margos or any other practitioners of the faith had departed for their homes and hearths, besides the small number of priests and clerics who attended to their business without need for noise or conversation. Moonlight shone through the large windows, its silver sheen contrasting with the orange flames of the lit braziers, crafting a dichotomy of colours. The clash felt strange in a place such as Obia, where unity through faith was perhaps the most prominent guiding feature, but more than that it was comforting. He was not the only contradiction in the realm.

Lucius was sat upon one of the pews, near the back of the temple, shielded from any prying eyes that might chance a glance inside. His unblemished hands were clasped together and his head bowed in reverence, resulting in a cascade of ruddy locks, creating a veil before his face. To any onlookers, he was surely a devoted follower of Obeah, giving her praise even at the witching hour. But, in truth, in all the hours he had spent there already, he had stopped bothering to pray almost since the very offset. Instead, he fought with himself, his mind and scepticism his foe of choice.

Why wouldn't Obeah answer him? Why couldn't he take her grace purely on faith?

The questions continued to dog him, pursuing him with the unceasing, inhuman vigour of the rogues who pressed against the nation's borders so often and so ruthlessly. Although he had received Goriad's lengthy religious speech by letter along his travels to Obia and although he had spent months now among the zealous and pious of the Heralds, the blind devotion simply had not come to him. If he strained, the he could feel perhaps the slightest ephemeral touch of Obeah; catch the most fleeting glimpse of her splendour. But it always felt as though he was fooling himself, exerting himself so hard to reach out that these glimpses were nought but the hallucinations of a weak and feeble mind.

Lucius doubted that the rest of the aristocracy would quite share his doubts. Although he felt his presence was the right thing to do and that Obia'Syela was the one place in all of Beluaterra where he could truly make a difference and distinguish himself, it would no doubt sink his standing like a stone if he made any admittance.

Would it be better if he was honest, or would it simply make things harder?

Lucius was not sure and, for that reason, he continued to sit in that shaded corner of the temple, willing himself to catch the most pervasive of diseases - religion. A sceptic among the devout was like the cold gleam of the moon clashing with the orange flames of a burning brazier.

–

Roleplay from Ferdinand Greybrook (7 days, 4 hours ago)

Message sent to everyone in "Heralds of Obeah" (36 recipients) A New Fit

Standing by the barracks, Ferdinand felt in his heart that this was the right decision. Hiring full fledged knights, men who would not buckle under pressure or fear of the unknown. These men and women would serve Obeah well. Too many times Ferdinand felt that his infantry fell short of what they could have achieved. He only knew of close quarters combat. Even the scars he now bore don't change that. The horrors in the south have made him anew - a man of resilience and determination. As Ferdinand looked off into the distance, Captain Erdman came into view with armour shining in the light. This was a new fit. The right fit.

–

Roleplay from Vahanian Blint (7 days, 4 hours ago)

Message sent to everyone in "Heralds of Obeah" (36 recipients) Vahanian walked through the recruitment and training grounds in Rines, he'd just finished refitting and paying for more recruits for his soldiers. He'd left his trusted captain, Heinz, who'd been with him through many battles, in charge of overseeing the 70 men he now commanded.

As Vahanian, and his steward and longtime friend, Baldwin, wandered through the grounds, they nodded at familiar units and faces, until they happened upon Young Knight Ferdinand.

Vahanian made his face a mask of stone as he inspected the young knight's troops. The eagerness that seemed to ooze from the young knight was palpable, he could tell how desperately Ferdinand wanted to serve Obeah and the Templar order.

Vahanian stood in front of Ferdinand, his hazel eyes staring down at the younger man, he did everything he could to suppress a smile beneath his salt and pepper colored beard, before saying "You seem pleased with your choice of soldiers.. I look forward to fighting alongside them."

Vahanian allowed a brief smile and a glimmer of approval to shine through his eye before returning his face to an unreadable mask of stone.

–

Roleplay from Antonia Fitz Roberts (6 days, 6 hours ago)

message to all nobles of Obia'Syela

Battle in Drinhilla

A war in foreign lands, for a foreign people. It felt more like something her cousin Franz would do. However the Grand Herald had called them here, to this foreign field and they had answered. Antonia, standing in her blood red plate but with her helmet as yet still under her arms, looked up and down the allied lines. Their arms and armour were fairly alien to her, but she had expected that. What she had not expected was such a disparity in where each marshal had ordered their soldiers. For some reason, she was standing next to archers.

‘Obeah preserve us, this can only go wrong’, Antonia muttered as she saw the ghouls and long dead skeletons begin to shuffle forward, marching in ranks next to the lumbering forms of trolls. As the archers let fly, she placed her helmet on her head, restricting her vision, and ordered the Martyrs to advance towards the enemy. Rather than the usual screaming charge adopted by her warriors, she had insisted that they advance in good order. Looking to her left, she saw Jorvik do the same. It was only at the last minute that the warcry of ‘Acriter et Fideliter’ went up and the Martyrs broke into charge. Quickly they found themselves surrounded by roaring trolls and deathly silent skeletons, their faces permanently grinning as some mysterious force guided their actions. Antonia quickly lost all sense of time as she set about her grim work, her zweihander rising and falling, guided by her long honed instincts. Though she concentrated only on what was immediately around her, she sensed that her warriors were falling fast. Soon she heard the cry of Jorvik ordering a retreat.

‘Coward’, she roared, splitting the skull of a troll in front of her. She would be having words. Her fellow knight would not enjoy them. She had a brief moment of relief as she heard the orders for the Inquisitorial Guard to join the melee. But this was short lived as all around her she could see, even through the restricted vision of her helmet, that her banners were being cut down. The sacred banner of the Blessed Lady fell first, though her personal banner of the Scarlet Fox fell quickly afterwards. Soon, all she could see were the enemy. ‘If this is to be my end, so be it’ Antonia roared and leapt further into the melee, hacking and slashing as if she were possessed. However, strong hands grabbed her and pulled her bodily away from the melee. She heard Rossitta shout

‘You three, cover us. Rejoice, for you die for Obeah’

‘No, no, no!!!’ Antonia roared in fury, struggling in the strong arms of Rebecca, ‘there are still more of them, I can kill them’

‘Ana, the women are spent, we cannot fight on, for us this battle is over’ Antonia continued to struggle as she was pulled back behind the archery lines, where at last her enormous bodyguard let her go. There she watched the final acts of the battle. As she pulled off her helmet her blonde hair spilled over her face, dripping with blood. Despite the worry of her healers, none of it was her own

‘Leave me, I’m fine, go attend someone who actually needs you’, She roared, shaking with rage. She threw her helmet to one side and stormed off back to the Obean camp. She was used to losses, but her fury was more at the fact that there had been no communication regarding deployment with their allies. Still covered in blood, she headed for the command tent of Marshal Maura. As she approached, one servant stepped forward

‘My lady, the Marshal is still on the field’

‘Excellent, I shall wait inside’

‘Erm, that is not possible my lady’, the servant said primly, ‘for one, you do not have an appointment, and you can’t just invade the privacy of a fellow noble’

At this, Antonia picked up the servant, her muscles barely straining as she brought him up to her face

‘I. Shall. Wait. Inside’, she repeated, her voice a low growl

‘I am afraid that is not possible’, the servant whimpered, trying to wriggle free

‘Say that again’

‘What?’

‘Say that again’

‘I am afraid it will not be possible for you to wait inside’

‘I thought that is what you said’ Antonia smiled and threw the servant into a rack of weapons nearby. Shoving another servant aside, she ducked low into the tent and took a seat, waiting for the marshal’s return.

–

Roleplay from Maura Arnickles Renodin (6 days, 5 hours ago)

Message sent to all nobles in the region Drinilla (12 recipients) Inquisitorial Guard fought bravely that day. They broke through the lines of the undead and then the trolls but the Inquisitor was still not pleased with the outcome of the battle. Killing beastly rearguard they took the remaining undead in the pincer manouver and even though they were the last infantrymen standing, Maura felt a pinch of bitterness as she noticed Ulli calling retreat the second she looked away. He done that one time too many - she thought.

Following the conclusion of the battle Maura dropped her helmet and gave her one-and-halfhanded huge crossbreed of a scimtar and a falchion for Anteria to polish. On the way to her tent she was accosted by one of the servants:

"M-my Lady, t-there is someone... something I should, uhm... you shouldn't" - the man struggled to speak, so the Inquisitor ordered - "Spill it out already!" and the man told her about the visitor and that he stopped her but she must've sneaked in later because she is now waiting inside. Maura looked at the red spot on his forehead, his ruffled hair and a knocked over rack of weapons.

"Lying to the Inquisitor is sooo smart..." - Maura said before pushing the man casually onto the knocked over weaponstand, he fell with a mighty clang of steel on steel.

"Good day to you Vice-Marshal" - the Inquisitor said as she entered the tent before either of them could look at one another. It was an easy guess - there were only two women in the entire expeditionary force who could enter her command tent uninvited, and one of them was herself.

Walking towards the table by which Antonia was seating, Maura took a good look at her, after all she barely ever seen a woman that was more physically imposing than herself. The Vice-Marshal was several inches taller than Maura and of athletic build but her facial features would rather suggest a courtly lady than a warrior, Marshal couldn't help but think how many men underestimated her for her beauty, and certainly at their own peril. Now standing right in front of Antonia Maura spoke again:

"A fine battle today, Dame Antonia, can I offer you some water? Forgive me but there is neither wine nor mead served in marshal's tent."

–

Roleplay from Antonia Fitz Roberts (6 days, 1 hour ago)

Message sent to all nobles in the region Drinilla (7 recipients)

Antonia looked up as Maura entered, remembering that she was still covered in blood. However, it was too late to do anything about that now so she simply said

‘Water would be grand, thank you’, Antonia accepted a cup and downed it, the cool, sweet liquid reinvigorating her, ‘I’ve seen better battles. To be honest with you, the lack of coordination between our lines and the lines of our allies was appalling. However, not much we can do about that now, I’ve already sent letters to coordinate for the next battle. I lost nearly the same amount of women in Ardmore and we were facing a far mightier foe. But enough about that, I did not come here to rant but for us to properly get to know one another. If we are to have a good professional relationship, we must at least have an amiable personal one’

At this last, Antonia leaned back in her chair resting the now empty cup on her knee

‘Tell me about yourself, Inquisitor. We cannot hope to be friends if we are a mystery to one another’

–

Roleplay from Maura Arnickles Renodin (5 days, 5 hours ago)

Message sent to all nobles in the region Tsamn (10 recipients)

‘Tell me about yourself, Inquisitor. We cannot hope to be friends if we are a mystery to one another’

Antonia said, leaning back in her chair. Maura was taken aback, she did not know why she didn't quite expect it - she very well should've. As an Inquisitor, she was much better at listening than talking, still - she pondered what to tell her guest.

"Ah, let's see..." - Maura trailed her finger on the rim of her cup in deep thought - "You may not know that about me, but only recently I started to live a life of a noble. Believe it or not, but I was born and raised a nomad on the Desert of Silhouettes, half-oblivious to my noble heritage. A hostile place... perhaps the most hostile, life there was hard and uncertain, even more so for people without a family name, even more so for children. Strangely I recall my time there as the happiest in my life."

She delved once more into deep thought - should I talk about the Earl? - a throbbing pain pierced the ghost of her absent thumb and she decided against it.

"My paths crossed with a noblewoman - Jarra Bennet, my lady..." - the Inquisitor's motionless face broke into a most subtle smile, that disappeared as swiftly as it appeared - "She was a lady here in Obia'Syela, a prominent one, a Margravine of Rueffilo. We brought the region from ruin to excellence. One of the finest regions in the realm it became, we raised the finest recruitment center and defended the townsland from endless assaults of monsters and undead from the south, against all odds. We even once held the wall with five archers and ten rock-hurling peasants! At the end of the battle it was only me and her left standing."

Maura's tone was shifting from cold and matter-of-factly to a hearty one as she spoke. Then suddenly somberness returned to her voice and her features.

"But it's all in the past." - she said and went silent for a long minute.

"The quality I seek doesn't exist in nature, it has to be made." - the Inquisitor half-whispered and then continued audibly - "Would you mind answering me a question Dame Antonia? Let's say your finest warrior would need a shield of raw steel, one that would suit her perfectly, that would make her unstoppable, and you would choose to grant her such an item. Let's say you would find a perfect nugget of iron, a perfect armourer; then you would take her measures and study her style of fighting. Let's say you would gather all the required knowledge and materials, and the finest armourer would tell you that he indeed could make such a shield, but it would be costly and would fit only this one warrior, if anyone else would try to use this shield, they would soon find it useless. Let's say sparing no gold and effort you would agree and eventually your finest warrior would end up with a finest shield, just for her. Imagine now that after many glorious campaigns your champion would die, fall in a battle against impossible odds..." - Maura leaned towards Antonia - "What would you do with the shield?"

–

Roleplay from Antonia Fitz Roberts (5 days, 4 hours ago)

message to all nobles of Obia'Syela

Antonia listened in interest at Maura’s story, and pondered her question carefully

‘The Desert of Silhouettes? That’s in Dwilight is it not? I grew up in Poryatu and was always told never to go near the desert due to few people surviving any significant time there. You must have had a hardy upbringing’, Antonia looked into the middle distance, before giving her answer

‘On your question: if the iron was as perfect as you say, I would return to the armourer and ask him to melt down the shield and make it again for my next finest warrior. Even if that warrior was Rosie, who I would honour in death above all else, burying a warrior with their weapons has always seemed foolish to me’, at this she reached for her zweihander and showed the pommel to Maura, which was carved into a fox head, ‘this blade is generations old, carried by the first of my line. It is made of the finest steel and is near perfect as a killing tool. If this had been buried with the first of my line, then it would never have been wielded to such devastating effect by the other heroines of my family. While such items hold sentimental value, if they have a use they must be put to that use. As that shield cannot be used by any other, it would either be buried alongside its wielder, serve as decoration in my cousin’s armoury at Fox Hall, or be melted down and the iron reused. The latter is the most pragmatic solution and so that is what I would adopt. I am a sentimental person, but not when it comes to weapons of war’

–

Roleplay from Maura Arnickles Renodin (5 days, 2 hours ago)

Message sent to all nobles in the region Tsamn (10 recipients) Maura gave no signs what she felt but she was obviously content with the answer. She pointed at Antonia's zweihander - "Yes, tools of war must be adjusted to the war at hand. If it means they need to be reforged or repurposed - so be it." - she groaned heartily and now pointing to herself she said - "And this particular shield now learns to be a sword. An arduous process it certainly is, but I must see it through. I once was a guard, a sentinel, that and nothing else entirely. I am done with chains of singular purpose. See me just as an inquisitor if you'd like, most people do, but perhaps more accurate it would be to call me the Inquisitor, for at the end of my path is not one of the pointless truths a common heretic can spew forth when you shove a glowing iron down his less obvious cavities. Oh no, my role within the Inquisition is the ultimate one, I am certain it will have an ultimate cost at one point but it will reward me with the ultimate truth and equip me to face the ultimate foe."

The Inquisitor smiled, now not an absentminded smile that escaped through the rigidness of the mask of her face but a full conscious smile. "Yes, daimons" - she said - "Have you seen one? I have not. Most of the Obian nobles have not. Grand Templar Vahanian fought them, the Oracle of course, Grand Inquisitor Jessica, Grand Chancellor Erheas, perhaps Marshal Boltgan and Sir Tom. The rest of us will face an enemy we would struggle to even imagine. Each invasion that plagues these lands is more violent than the one that came before it. We purge the heresy now because the weak of mind and soul will become tools of war for the daimon lords."

Maura offered her guest a piece of cloth to wipe the blood off her face and pointing at her she said: "But enough about me, I am certain there is quite a story behind that woman in a crimson armour."

–

Roleplay from Antonia Fitz Roberts (4 days, 3 hours ago)

Message sent to all nobles in the region Tsamn (13 recipients) ‘The armour has more story than I. It is the armour of the Scarlet Fox. Every generation, a woman is chosen to pick up the mantle and carry on the legend of the founder of our house, Giesla. As to me personally, I grew up with my cousins and siblings in Poryatu. I loved all my family, but none more so than cousin William and my brother Marc Antonio’, Antonia looked to one side as she remembered, ‘I was the family favourite. I wasn’t quite the smartest, the strongest or the best fighter, but I was the easiest to love. I was always able to get out of trouble by pinning the blame on someone else, usually my little brothers.’ Antonia sighed as she remembered

‘But there was one bit of trouble I could not get out of. I fell in love’ The painfulness of the memories made it a struggle for her to continue, ‘or at least I thought I did. I see now how wrong I was. The man was almost twice my age and I was still basically a child. Soon I was with child myself. When my mother found out, on her return from campaign as she was a Scarlet Fox before me, she had the man torn apart with horses. However, my father could not stand the sight of me and cast me out once my son, my little Manfred, was born. He wanted me exiled from the family, but his brother would not allow it and took me in. Marc Antonio hated our father and ran away to join me’ At this she began to smile again ‘Those were once again happy days, for he brought my little Manfred with him and I was with my cousins William and Leopold, in a home where I was loved’

Antonia wished she had a proper drink to be able to finish this story, but she respected Maura too much to break her rules. ‘I was sixteen when we had word that my mother had died, fighting in some foreign field. It was then that I decided to take my place as a head of the family branch. With the help of Marc Antonio, William and my dearest friend Rosie I went back to my old home. My father had always been a weak man, nothing like his brother nor my mother. Konrad and Isabella Fitz Roberts were strong, my father was nothing but a cowardly sadist. He died at my hand, and not quickly. We relished in it, we four teenagers. It was that night that our youth ended. I was made head of my family branch, but I wanted to see the world. I bought a ship, named her after my mother and took to a life of privateering. That is how I came to our Blessed Lady’s shores, where I discovered our faith. My corsairs underwent a conversion and became as they are today. But we still retain our love for drink and for pillage.’ She leant back as she said this. ‘there, I think that is all you need to know, save that I was made Scarlet Fox as a compromise between the heads of our rival branches, William and Franz’ At this last name, she spat. It was at this that she realised how much she had divulged. No wonder this woman was an inquisitor, she had made her spill her secrets without even lifting a finger

–

Roleplay from Vahanian Blint (28 days, 20 hours ago)

message to all nobles of Obia'Syela

Vahanian was taking a midnight stroll through the gardens of the basilica in Rines, Stheno, the young princess, was at his side. The two were chatting and walking, hand in hand. Vahanian had never looked happier. Some of the newer priests and priestesses to the Basilica were starting to wonder if the young girl was in fact his own daughter. That rumor would soon be put to rest as undoubtedly false.

Vahanian had not come into her life until several years after her birth, during her stay in the Shattered Vales. Her protection and safe guarding, especially on her passage to the Holy Realm of Obia'Syella was his first charge from the Oracle.

Still, even though she was not his blood, he could not help but love her like his own daughter. Though as of late, there was something a little off about her, Vahanian couldn't place it either, which worried him even more..

As the two continued their walk, Vahnain's eyes flicked up and towards a corner of the garden that was draped in vines and shielded from the moon's light. Baldwin emerged from the shadowy corner, and Vahanian paused his walk, his hand absently drifting to his sword as he said "Baldwin..I.." Baldwin nodded, his hand already on his weapon as he said. "I sense something too.."

Their warrior senses kicked into high gear. Vahanian's first priority was Stheno's safety. He called out loudly and strongly. "LEGION TO ME" at once 30 soldiers emerged from various places around the gardens, they formed a phalanx around Vahanian and Stheno. Vahanian called out once more. "Protect the princess at all cost." He looked to Baldwin and said "We need to get her back to the Basilica. Now." The men moved carefully, yet quickly back to the safety of the holy temple. Once there he personally saw Stheno to her chambers and made sure her handmaidens were with her. He dismissed the guards outside her room and on the floor with her chambers and replaced them with his own soldiers.

He himself took up a vigil outside her chamber door. He stood comfortably, with his feet shoulder width apart and his hands folded behind his back.

Here he would stay, peering into the dark until the sun rose...

–

Roleplay from Rania Eastersand JeVondair (28 days, 4 hours ago)

message to all nobles of Obia'Syela

"Your Holiness....Your Grace!" The insistent whisper roused Rania from a slumber. Once again, she'd fallen asleep in her study, this one in the Grand Temple overlooking the sun rising over the eastern hills and ocean. She nodded her thanks to the underpriestess that had roused her and requested some coffee, Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she reviewed the options: Maura Arnickles Renodin, Alacrix Galar, Divus Lancaster, Lucius Archival. There were things she liked about all of them, and so the decision had been more difficult then she had anticipated.

Due to her position and responsibility, Rania knew it would be wiser for her to rely upon council before making her decision. It was then that the underpriestess returned with Rania's coffee, offering it do her with a bow. Rania accepted the steaming cup and gratefully took a few sips. It was bloodmoon flavored, hot as a fire and black as daimon blood and probably just as strong. Her daughter hated the stuff. But then, what did children know of high quality? Nodding to herself, she made a decision...

"Summon Our Steward"

–

Roleplay from Vahanian Blint (28 days, 3 hours ago)

message to all nobles of Obia'Syela Vahanian strode through the Grand Temple, servants bowing and muttering greetings as he passed them by. He approached the chambers of the Oracle, and nodded to the guards stationed outside. All of them had been handpicked by him to protect her once she stepped down from the throne of the realm. Some of them looked as though they wanted to protest him wearing weaponry in the presence of the oracle, but his face and his position as Grand Templar was cause for no such argument to be made.

As his arrival was announced he was pushing thoughts of Astros and Goriad's responses from his mind. No amount of arguing would change their minds, and frankly he valued their opinions about as much as he valued mud on his boots.

The door swung open and Vahanian stepped through the threshold. He knelt immediately and bowed his head. "My Oracle, how may I be of service?"

–

Roleplay from Rania Eastersand JeVondair (28 days ago)

message to all nobles of Obia'Syela

The Grand Templar had arrived with enviable speed. He must have been nearby preparing the Enlightenment to March. His brow was pinched and his mouth was a hard line. She recognized these as telltale signs of great frustration and filed the mental note away for later rather than remark upon it right then. She knew this mood of his well. Instead, she waited as he knelt immediately and bowed his head.

"My Oracle, how may I be of service?" Vahanian said.

She extended her hand for him to kiss, then bid him sit with her, favoring him with a warm smile. More coffee arrived just as he sat down. She’d never invited him to join her in so casual a manner before. Rania was usually a stickler for protocol and ceremony. Today, however, her pragmatism won out as there was too much to be done and time was short. Without preamble, Rania launched into her concerns regarding the applicants for Melegra.

“The problem is that Kiki’s abdication was so unexpected. As you know, I normally identify my lords far in advance, and a plumb like Melegra requires more careful consideration. As one of my most senior and trusted retainers, I would like your opinion on the merits of each applicant."

While she waited for his answer, Rania studied him. In truth, she could have made this decision on her own without much fuss. Indeed, never before had she included him or anyone in how she chose to run the Duchy of Amen Keffa, seeing it as her Sacred duty. That she chose to do so one, she knew, would send questions of all sorts whirling through his mind and that of those that witnessed him answer her summons.

The Oracle sipped her coffee as the Grand Templar collected his thoughts.

–

Roleplay from Vahanian Blint (27 days, 23 hours ago)

message to all nobles of Obia'Syela The lack of formality and the Oracle's rapid launch into her concerns was dizzying for Vahanian. He had always been appreciative of the formality and traditions that was owed to one of the Oracle's standing. To not jump through those metaphorical hoops, did not sit well with him, in fact it made him slightly physically uncomfortable, though he did his best to hide that.

He collected his thoughts before responding to the Oracle, in fact he took longer than he would have expected. He sat there, and looked just past her out a window. His eyes glazing over as he gazed off. He first responded with "I am assuming the candidates are Maura Arnickles Renodin, Alacrix Galar, Divus Lancaster, and Lucius Archival." He was hoping to have caught her by surprise since the applicants had only informed her of their desire to lord Melegra.

However, he guessed at the applicants based on what he knew of them, and who he'd personally have chosen from for Melegra.

He sipped at his own coffee after being poured some by a servant. He fiddled with his unlit pipe as he thought, unsure if the Oracle would object to his use of tobacco in her chambers. He was hoping she wouldn't object, especially since he was carrying his favorite. A robust tobacco from Thalmarkin, specifically from the Wailing Wood. It boasted a deep rich smoky flavor, similar to a slow cooked roast pork might, with hints of citrus - his favorite part.

He pushed those thoughts aside as he realized he was getting sidetracked from the matter at hand.

He launched into a tirade of his own. "Maura makes a lot of sense, she has served well and has a strong head, sometimes can be stubborn, though that is not all together a bad thing. She is never afraid to voice opinions that differ from others, and will not backdown if she believes she is right. Which could be useful in managing a region. However, she is not opposed to admitting when she's wrong, yet another quality. Purely politically speaking, her only drawback is her affiliation with the Inquisition and The Lord Regent."

Vahanian only partially intentionally used the out of date an inaccurate title, some of it was conscious anger at Goriad II, and another part was subconscious reaction.

He noticed a flicker of annoyance ripple across the Oracle's face, she still did not approve of the quarrel He and Goriad II shared. He filed that piece of information away in his own mind.

"What I mean is that, she has been away from the Sacred Realm for sometime on Goriad's quest - so she may not be readily available to see to the region upon her appointment. As for the others, of those names I am much less familiar. I believe Lucius is a courtier so he would have ample time to tend the region, but I also can't help but think he might serve better as Steward of Grehk once we take the city. Divus, is a strong soldier, sharp mind and deep sense of loyalty to the realm. He wouldn't be a bad choice at all. Alacrix has earned a place among the realm, I believe he has been waiting some sense of recognition for his services, again would be a strong choice." He pondered his words momentarily and decided to go out on a limb and light his pipe. He did so took a deep puff and continued his thoughts.

"Of the candidates I would recommend chosing between Divus and Alacrix, I think Lucius can be of more use in Grehk and I think Maura will be unavailable to tend to the region right away, which could cause more harm than we need.." He extended his hand and offered the pipe to the Oracle, in hopes she would sample his favorite tobacco or politely decline, while still allowing him to smoke.

–

Roleplay from Rania Eastersand JeVondair (27 days, 21 hours ago)

message to all nobles of Obia'Syela

Rania didn’t mind the smoke, making no move to stop Vahanian as she considered his words. The scent reminded her sharply of Melhed’s northern forests. She did not let her thoughts dwell there though, as the memories were bittersweet.

“Insightful, Vahanian,” she mused approvingly. His assessment matched hers, if not for the exact same reasons. She sensed that he did not know some of the nobles in question, but that was little surprise. As a Grand Councilor of the Sacred Realm, his duties carried him beyond rubbing elbows with the landed nobility, not unlike herself. She surmised that he knew Maura best of all, or rather he at least felt that he did. Therefore his assessment of the others were based not on personal feeling but by reputation. She did not bother to hide the flash of irritation that passed when Vahanian’s distaste of her inquisitors, but that could wait for later.

“I also approve of Alacrix Galar. His work in Ardmore, though unfinished, is deserving of recognition and he has spent a great deal of time in the realm, far more than Sir Divus. And yet it is Sir Divius who appears to be the more popular among the troops and layfolk. Further, as a knight of Melegra, he does have the stronger claim…” Appointed Lords could always be a potential political problem. On the one hand, selecting Sir Divus will reinforce to the other knights of the Sacred Court that diligently serving one’s lord with loyalty and strength will be recognized and rewarded. On the other, Lord Alacrix voluntarily left his wealthy estate in Rines to toil for the sake of Obeah and little else in the barren fields of Ardmore and a message needed to be sent that taking on difficult tasks and suffering is likewise worthy of recognition and reward. For a moment, Rania considered shuffling the two so that Divus cut test himself in Ardmore while Alacrix was rewarded with the far easier post of Melegra. But, as with most compromises, she knew that would be a situation that no one would be happy with, regardless if it was technically fulfilling.

Rania sat for a moment, crossing one knee over the other beneath her robes as she weighed the merits of both men in her mind. The two sat, the smoke from the Grand Templar’s pipe coiled in the air between them when Rania snapped her fingers with a grin. “Very Well! I will appoint Sir Divus. I find it very difficult to deny a knight of the region a chance to rule over it. Meanwhile, you should communicate the good news it Sir Lucius that his skills will be on a grander stage in the near future. I have my own plans for the others.”

That was what Rania said, but behind her eyes an altogether different set of thoughts had run their course. She had seen what she’d needed to see, heard what she’d needed to hear, and as the head of her Templar Order stood to be dismissed, Rania perceived how the future would take shape around him She knew beyond a doubt that the time was coming soon when she would have to change Vahanian’s place in Obia’Syela.

–

Roleplay from Alacrix Galar (27 days, 20 hours ago)

message to all nobles of Obia'Syela Alacrix was relaxing in his tent from the long day he had training his new unit. He had renamed them after his old original unit to honor and remember them. They were coming along nicely and would make for excellent soldiers if they kept it up. He was just writing down the next day training routine when is new captain busted into the room. "My lord have you heard the news?" "No Odwin. What is it?" Alacrix was getting a little annoyed by his new captain. The man seemed not to believe in knocking. "My lord it's terrible the Oracle has given the title of Count of Melegra to Divus Lancaster!" "Odwin. Me breaking my leg is terrible news. The men being to drunk to fight is terrible news. This is news. Just news. I have fought beside Count Lancaster on several battlefields. He is a good warrior and from what I hear is a devoted follower of Obeah. The man should receive the honors he has been given." "But m-my lord the Oracle should have title should have given you the title." "ODWIN ENOUGH! I will not tolerate blasphemy! The Oracle speaks for Obeah. And if Obeah and the Oracle believe that Divus should have the title then they have earned that title. You will never say something like that again. Do you understand." Alacrix fixed the man with a death stare. He could not believe that the man would dare contradict the orders of the Oracle. She had already given him much and this man had no right to say those things. "Forgive me my lord. I did not mean to blasphemy. I will never do it again." Odwin was trembling before Alacrix. He had always thought the Count of Ardmore to be a soft spoken and kind man. Now he saw the religious fervor in the Count's eyes. The look would have rivaled any Inquisitor. "Good Odwin, see that you do not." Alacrix saw the man's fear. It took some of the anger from him. "Besides Odwin we still have much work to do in Ardmore. I look forward to building that region up and seeing what potential it may hold."

–

Roleplay from Jessica Gildre (27 days, 19 hours ago)

message to all nobles of Obia'Syela Jessica nodded as Bryant read her the letter from the Oracle.

This was exactly why Jessica didn't rush to speak every time a controversy arose.

Well... one of the reasons she didn't speak anyways...

–

Roleplay from Lucius Archival (27 days, 19 hours ago)

message to all nobles of Obia'Syela It was in a less than comfortable inn, with a less than delicious glass of wine, that Lucius heard the news. Sir - Count - Divus had been chosen ahead of him for the lordship of Melegra. Though he had known even as he penned the letter to the Oracle that any gambler would give him poor odds, the unspoken rejection stung nonetheless. Falling short of one's plans was never an experience to savour, and for a brief moment, he missed his manor in Yokk.

He consoled himself, at least for the evening, with copious amounts of wine. I deserve this much, Lucius decided to himself. The warm embrace of comfortable inebriation enveloped him, welcoming him without judgement or reservation. It soothed his frayed nerves and wounded pride admirably, and gave him pause to remember why he had put himself forward for the position. He was ready to serve; he wanted to serve.

As he slipped away to his bed for the night, with its lumpy mattress and bedraggled cushions, he hoped the Oracle understood that much at least.

–

Roleplay from Jessica Gildre (27 days, 14 hours ago)

message to all nobles of Obia'Syela Bryant looked over top of the invitation he had just read aloud at Jessica. She sat expressionless on a plush chair in the parlor, staring sightlessly at the wall across from her. She wore an evening gown of scarlet, and had a wolf pelt draped across her bare shoulders, even though the fire roared next to her.

"Shall I call for a carriage, m'Lady?" Bryant asked her. She nodded. Standing, she took his hand and allowed him to guide her through the room towards the front door of the estate.

The carriage bumped along the road. Jessica found herself thinking about the things she could no longer do. She imagined riding a horse, wind in her hair. An experience she could not longer have...

She listened to Bryant rustling with papers. She had never relied on another human being as much as she did now. She felt weak, and it made her angry. She pushed the thoughts down, and inhaled deeply. She smelled the night air. She could smell the stars, the moon. Their milky glow filled her senses, and she let the breath out.

The wagon stopped. Bryant leaned from the carriage to speak to the guards in front of the compound, "Inform your master that the Grand Inquisitor has arrived."

–

Roleplay from Lucius Archival (26 days, 23 hours ago)

message to all nobles of Obia'Syela "I... yes, of course. Forgive my surprise at this; I was not expecting it," Lucius said to the underpriest who awaited patiently for his reply. "Please inform the Oracle that I would be honoured beyond words to accept Her invitation."

After the priest departed to convey his response, Lucius re-read the letter once, twice, three times before eventually setting it to one side. Despite the dull shock, which had yet to truly hit him, the young courtier spared no time. He had his brought to him forthwith, before setting off at a hurried pace. It was not enough to simply reach Rines in time, he would also need to ensure he was presentable. It would be the height of disgrace to meet the Oracle with these dusty travelling leathers.

...

Several hours later, Lucius found himself at the great entryway to the Grand Temple. His leathers had been replaced with dark cloths; elegant enough to present his rank and station, but without unnecessary ornamentation or narcissism - no Archival would ever be a peacock. His amber cloak fluttered in the evening breeze as he passed through into the cover of the building.

Upon his entry, he was approached by another member of Obeah's clergy. Without much need for words spoken, Lucius presented them with the letter and seal that was undeniable upon it; that of the Oracle. With a hushed nod, the cleric left to make the arrangements to inform the Oracle Herself that he had arrived. In the interlude, now that there was no need for panicked rushing, he quietly concerned himself with one thought...

Why did She send for me?

–

Roleplay from Astros Renodin (26 days, 22 hours ago)

message to all nobles of Obia'Syela

Unannounced

Holding hands was never a thing he imagined himself doing. Now though, it was the hand of a young scribe that guided him through the grand complex that was the Basilica. The voices of whispering monks and the serene sounds of chimes, bells and prayer wafted through the air like manure. It annoyed him. Are we there yet? Astros snarled at his young chaperone. The boy man looked over his shoulder at the hulking man he pulled along. Shh! Not quite.

Heavy footfalls and occasional bumping into walls disturbed the otherwise tranquil peace of the great place of worship. Winding stairs, long hallways and courtyard after courtyard. As they progressed ever closer to the inner sanctum where they expected to find the Oracle herself Astros thought to himself. Would she allow him an audience? Did she knew he was coming? Would it be worth the trip wearing these silly Inquisitor robes?

Time would tell

–

Roleplay from Rania Eastersand JeVondair (25 days, 21 hours ago)

message to all nobles of Obia'Syela After the cleric had departed, Lucius was left to wait for some time. This came as no surprise, it had taken him several hours to make it to Rines, afterall, and the Oracle was a busy woman.

The Grand Temple always seemed to be under construction, ever growing and always packed with the faithful's parishioners, administrators, and clergy. It's moon-white edifice rose high above the surrounding structures, making it prominent in the Rines skyline beneath only the Basillica itself. From history, he knew, this was the very first project the Oracle had commissioned upon obtaining the deed to Rines from the Fronen Republic. Comparatively, it was little more then a shack at the time. But with years and investments, the Temple seemed to be growing into its lofty name.

Lucius's attention was diverted when the door the clergyman had used opened once more, this time admitting a woman in the ornate azure robes of a senior priestess. She was unveiled, which was not uncommon outside of official religious ceremonies. Her skin was nutmeg brown with dark eyes and dark brown hair streaked here and there with silver. "You will find Her Holiness this way, Sir Archival." She said, holding the door open. "Kindly follow me."

The door, as it turned out, opened into a stairwell leading up. They ascended only two flights before the priestess opened another door and ushered him forward. Lucious stepped into an open-air, sun-streaked hall, beautifully wrought with elegant woodwork imitating woodlands. Flower vines in full blossom writhed-trellises formed a slicing ceiling of scented green through which filtered the sights and sounds of the city below.

At the end of the bridge was a door of strong, dark oak. The priestess stopped before it, bowing her head in prayerful repose before opening it and ushering Lucius across the threshold. Within was a most unusual room, if room it could be called. Though it was square with right angles as a room should be, there the resemblance became less of a tower and more of...something else entirely. The space was constructed like a tiered pit, the lowest level being a pool or bath of scented water upon which the tiny flames of candle-lilies floated. The water seemed to fill and drain, but the mechanism that did so was hidden from sight. The highest tiers were actually open to the air themselves, the ceiling held up by thick stone columns arranged in a circle.and similarly wreathed in flowering vines, snaking across the ceiling and lending the entire space a sense of ancient tranquility. The tier upon which he now should was in the middle and could best be described as the living space. Thick tapestries covered the stone floor of this tier, along with shelves filled with books and scrolls arranged to either side of the door. A large desk arranged across the "study" faced him and the door directly, to approach it, he would have to walk around the room.

As if he asked allowed, the priestess merely beckoned him forward. Despite the unique arrangement, Lucious was able to swiftly navigate from one side to the other and soon saw that here was no one else present just yet.

"Is there anything you require?" The priestess asked as he took a seat in the pool-side seat of the desk, leaving the more ornate fireside chair for his host. "The Oracle will be with you shortly."

–

Roleplay from Vahanian Blint (25 days, 21 hours ago)

message to all nobles of Obia'Syela A thick cloud of smoke swirled upwards as Vahanian exhaled. In the dimming light his face was only illuminated by the faint glow from his pipe. as he inhaled another lung full of the Vatrona Spring Mix tobacco he had brought with him from Rines. His left hand rest upon his sword, comfortably sheathed at his side. He stood on the top of a small hill, his eyes gazing out upon the scared and burnt fields of Ardmore. This land had endured so much death and destruction it was a wonder that anything still grew here.

He heard the distant sound of a fight ensuing and saw torches in the distance, no doubt it was his soldiers hunting the retreated monsters that had been plaguing this land. He inhaled another puff of smoke and slowly released the smoke from his nostrils as he exhaled. His thoughts wandered freely, he was thinking back on his conversation with Rania, it had been good to see her and spend time, however brief it had been, with her. He could see the stress in her eyes, it didn't last long, it was snuffed out by ambitious thoughts and schemes aplenty. Her mind fascinated him, she worked through problems so quickly and efficiently. Her eyes held an intelligence that was appealing to him as a man, but also intimidating as all hell. His thoughts wandered once more jumping to another woman whom he'd recently had a correspondence with.

Lady Maura and her question perplexed him. He'd taken the small amount of time it took for him to memorize her letters, and now he re-read them to himself in his mind. She wanted to learn more about fighting the hordes and armies of the Daimon kind. A skill he long yearned to banish from his mind, but one that was forever burned to the forefront of his memory. The locket he wore felt as if it was growing heavier the longer he dwelled on the subject - The tattoo he bore on his right shoulder felt as if it started to burn once again. He'd had it examined by more than one sage and several priests, all came to the same conclusion. It was magically bound to his skin. It would remain forever. A constant reminder of his time in captivity at the hands of a Daimon Lord. The magic they used to bind him and hold him in prison had permanently scarred him. He'd strained against them for so long and so ferociously. He remembered the musty smell of the chamber. The dim green light from the torch sconces. The growling and clicking sounds they made when they laughed. The high pitched screech and piercing scream of his wife. The raw feeling in his throat as he screamed in protest, rage, sadness, and horror as he watched them desecrate her.

His mind had long since shifted from thinking of Lady Maura, now he was filling with the cold dread and heartless, ruthlessness he held in his heart and gut weeks after escaping that prison. The lack of care in his eyes as he left his remaining children and went on his hunt. It had taken him 6 months of hunting the winter mountains and wildernesses of Thalmarkin, finally he tracked down the horde that had robbed him of the only joy in his life. He studied and tracked them for weeks after finding them. Planning his attack - he never expected to survive, but he wanted to be sure that he would kill every last one of them. When he descended into their camp one night, he relished the feeling as his blade sliced through their flesh and bone. He felt possessed that night, but he didn't care. He'd slaughtered an entire horde on his own. When he was done, he stood among a camp, covered in blood and gore from the Daimons. Breathing as best he could, though every breath he took was never enough to fill his lungs. His vision had blurred and he felt lightheaded and cold, despite being covered in sweat and furs.

He woke several weeks later, in a cave being tended to by a hermit.

"My Lord?" A voice cut through his trip down memory lane immediately, and he came back to his senses. Baldwin stood in front of him. "My Lord... you've been out here for 3 hours.. the men will be retuning soon.. you should get some sleep.." Vahanian nodded, tapped out the rest of his pipe on the heel of his boot and returned to camp. Keeping his mind distinctly in the present.

–

Roleplay from Lucius Archival (25 days, 20 hours ago)

message to all nobles of Obia'Syela Lucius, reminded of his place amidst such devotion and finery, followed the priestess without words reaching his lips, beyond the occasional courtesy and voice of assent. He made a striking contrast with the woman as he followed her through the lofty halls of the Grand Temple; his skin as pale as exotic ivory, and his hair a vibrant auburn. He wondered if he looked out of place there, and he certainly felt it.

Despite the beauty of the architecture and the majesty of its design, the courtier made every effort to prevent himself from being overawed by the situation. Keen, grey eyes surveyed everything they saw; from the piercing, high walls to the tranquillity of the waters below.

With quiet trepidation still spurring him on, Lucius was glad for the priestess. Her ushering prevented him from dallying or catching himself in overwrought imaginings. Eventually, as he was directed to his chair, he seated himself down slowly, whilst continuing to inspect and cast his gaze across the vast room.

At the priestess' question, he shook his head slowly. He voiced his gratitude for her guidance to the room - and her assistance therein - before bowing his head in a manner reverential toward the clergywoman. And then, with that, he began to wait. Patience was one of his stronger suits, and so he contented himself with observing the bookcases and decor, and found that it brought him a comforting feeling that soothed his frayed nerves. Books, books he understood.

This was a highly unexpected situation, something he had scarcely imagined, but he would face it with the poise had been raised with. He would not offend or disrespect the Oracle with any rudeness born of discomfort.

–

Roleplay from Apostate (25 days, 16 hours ago)

Message sent to everyone in "Heralds of Obeah" (36 recipients) Apostate sat in his hut, considering his answer. He had been, once, then he met his master. Then he grabbed some spare parchment and an off cast quill. He realised he had no ink.

It has been simple to steal it when the merchant wasn’t looking. When the man noticed, he raged. Apostate was long gone.

He returned to his run-down home and penned his answer.

–

Roleplay from Rania Eastersand JeVondair (25 days ago)

message to all nobles of Obia'Syela The priestess remained standing as they waited. When Lucius made it clear that he required nothing else, she excused herself and moved around the room, adjusting and rearranging things to make the odd space seem tidier. Though her demeanor remained serene, she nevertheless seemed...irritated? The Oracle's seat across from Lucius remained empty. Surely she should have been here by now? perhaps that was the cause of the Priestes's distress.

The lighting in the room had visibly changed with the movement of the sun when the priestess at last excused herself entirely, disappearing down through a stairwell Lucius hadn't noticed before. She did not announce where she was going, or tow what purpose; presumably to find their absent hostess.

Alone in the Oracle's study, Lucius was left to his own devices for the first time since he arrived at the Grand Temple a few hours before.

–

Roleplay from Rania Eastersand JeVondair (25 days ago)

message to all nobles of Obia'Syela "Lord Inquisitor?"

Some time had passed since Astros' arrival to the Holy Basillica. The Vice-marshal's presence there was so sparring that it caused a flurry of activity as priests, acolytes, and administrators whispered by, bestowing curious sidelong glances on the Inquisitor, but giving him a very wide margin. His chaperone had vanished long ago, presumably to alert the Oracle or one of her senior staff members to his arrival as befitting his status as an influential member of the Sacred Court.

However, it was not the Oracle that now addressed him, but a veiled priestess, shorter and plumper than he knew the Oracle to be, and wearing the traditional Obian veil of her office. This was a full Herald of Obeah, but as a Lord Inquisitor, she did not have the power to deny him. "I understand you seek the Oracle's wisdom, milord" she inclined her had reverently, "but I am afraid she has left the Basillica. She ended her silent seclusion some time after the Twin prophecy was granted to us. I am sorry you came all this way, but If your need is urgent, I believe she is at the Grand Temple handling matters of the faith. The Basillica Palace is merely the brain center of Rines, the Grand Temple is her heart. Under Her Eye."

The Herald inclined her head once more to Astros and made to return to her other duties.

–

Roleplay from Astros Renodin (24 days, 23 hours ago)

message to all nobles of Obia'Syela

Listening to the words of the Priestess he realized he was duped once again. Blast! He hissed through clenched teeth. Out of my way you human roadblock! With arms decked with heavy slabs of muscle Astros pushed the plump priestess aside. Leaving her to crash against the wall he strode off. Feeling and roaming his way through the otherwise serene hallways and corridors.

His curses echoed and his promises dangerous. Having made the exit eventually it was his remaining traveling group that spotted him. Servants, guards and the like that accompanied him on his travels. Take me to the Grand Temple! my old Estate! The heart of the Faith! Not wanting to argue and certainly unwilling to discover the source of his most recent flash of anger the men and women simply complied and headed for the Temple as instructed.

–

Roleplay from Rania Eastersand JeVondair (24 days, 1 hour ago)

message to all nobles of Obia'Syela Minutes passed into hours as Lucius waited on the Oracle to see him and reveal the purpose of her unexpected summons. The senior priestess returned regularly to check on him and make a show tidying things up while the wait continued. It was after one such time that he managed to discern the cleverly hidden alcove disguised behind stonework between the mid and lover level. Not so much a work of construction as artistic vision, the room's decor were arranged in such a way as to hid it from the view of anyone who'd have been facing the Oracle's seat.

By now, he'd been able to observe his de facto companion beyond their initial meeting to subtler details. She was taller than most women he had met, but that alone was not particularly interesting. She had the coloring of a people accustomed to dryer, hotter climes, but that alone was not uncommon. She moved with serene confidence, as befitting a Herald of Obeah, but their was an economy of motion to her movements that might make a dancing instructor proud. Or a fencing instructor, for that matter. The odd idea struck him that if all he, being what he was, and she, being a senior priestess, were doing was waiting upon the Oracle, then they were not so very different.

Nevertheless, was Lucius faced with a decision? Sufficient time had passed that he could take his leave politely without inviting critique. However, the priestess seemed certain that the Oracle would present herself. What was he to do?

–

Roleplay from Lucius Archival (24 days ago)

message to all nobles of Obia'Syela As the hours began to press on, the natural patience of Lucius began to prove its merit. His expression remained calm and level, and he contented himself with his thoughts. If anything, the long stretch of time had removed his nerves entirely and a simple tranquillity had now bloomed in its place. The courtier felt more focused and his mind more clear now, as he quietly continued to observe the area around him - and the priestess, whenever she was in eyesight. Something about her put him at ease; if this effortless grace as representative of those who served Obeah, it spoke more well than any words could of the Veiled Goddess.

The thought never occurred to him that he might leave. Instead, he remained where he was, taking solace in the atmosphere that permeated through this section of the Grand Temple. The Oracle had many important tasks, far more important than he, and so it would be the height of rudeness to depart without having the forbearance to wait.

In the meantime, he quietly began to wonder what the Oracle would be like; how she would look like. For all the rumours and talk he had heard from the aristocracy and common classes alike since his arrival in Obia'Syela, they had always talked about Her righteousness, Her piousness, Her devotion to the Veiled Goddess. But they had never told him what the person behind the title was truly like in character and appearance. That curiosity in of itself gave him greater motivation to remain.

And so, he waited.

–

Roleplay from Maura Arnickles Renodin (23 days, 1 hour ago)

message to all nobles of Obia'Syela OOC: Graphic depiction of injuries and gore, strong language, reader discretion is advised

Silence was so heavy that if it was put on the ground it would surely sink the entire continent. Two lone women marched into the neverending sea of monsters. Whatever madness pushed them towards a certain doom froze all life in quietness as they walked. The unquenchable hatred one of the women felt was equipoised by abyssal determination of the other one.

Earlier that day...

Loud gasping of the thug rumbled inside the tent as he struggled to inhale. Shreds of flesh hanged disorderly from his shoulder, half-formed clots streched from the grousome wound like resin that just barely started to dry up. Strands of intense red connected vestigial mockery of a limb with lousy palliasse. Ulli choked on his words as he demanded with the greatest effort:

"H-healer. Maura, damn it! Bring me. Healer."

But Maura was silent, which only increased the intensity of demands:

"Maura, bring... you cruel bitch! Bring me a healer, now!"

The Inquisitor sat beside Ulli and took his hand - "We have no healers no more. Couldn't afford to pay them."

"My lady, please... save me. I don't want to die. I am young. I am so young still." - his eyes glazed over - "Maura, please don't let me die here." - High-pitched, pleading shrieks of a child broke into guttural growls of the huge man, transforming his voice completely.

Maura stood up and begun to depart, the giant of a man desperately clutched at her hand with his own. But he had only one arm left and it had no strength whatsoever. Maura left effortlessly, not even acknowledging being held.

Outside the tent Anteria frowned at the screams coming from inside.

"He was an evil man, Anteria, through and through" - said the Inquisitor noticing her warrior's displeasure.

"Why does he then sound so lamentful? I hear his screams and can't help but truly pity him." - replied the new captain.

"Villains fear death all the same. All things alive do." - the lady answered.

Barely a minute of silence felt like eons. It was broken by Anteria's question:

"Did you brought us all here to die?"

Maura tilted her head in surprise, amused with the question. Being surprised was something she seldomly experienced and decided to reward it with honesty. Without blinking or moving a muscle the Inquisitor simply said:

"Yes."

–

Roleplay from Rania Eastersand JeVondair (21 days, 23 hours ago)

message to all nobles of Obia'Syela Vice-marshal Astros had only just arrived at the Grand Temple and was walking in when a courier ran flat into him, the impact forcing the lad to fall back on his behind. He bore the Duchess's Royal seal and heraldry. When he looked up at Astros, relief and dread warred across his youthful features. Mumbling a swift apology, the boy stood and presented the Vice-marshal with a scroll informing Astros that the Duchess had ordered the construction of two new cavalry centers, requesting that he inspect them and report his thoughts on their potential. The courier excused himself as soon as the message had been delivered, all but fleeing in terror from the infamous Inquisitor.

On the one hand, Astros had now been officially summoned for the royal audience he'd sought. On the other, yet another obstacle (work) had been placed between the Oracle and himself. On the other other hand, he'd just been giving some brand new, four-legged, heavily armed and armored toys to play with. Had this been Her plan all along?

–

Roleplay from Maura Arnickles Renodin (19 days, 20 hours ago)

Message sent to everyone in "Heralds of Obeah" (33 recipients) Half-naked, blood-soaked woman entered the Offices of the Inquisition. Inquisitorial guardsmen hastily stopped her near the entrance and were about to toss her out when one of the higher officials recognized the woman.

"By Obeah's grace! Tis Inquisitor Maura Arnickles Renodin! Unhand her you fools. At once!" - the man said. He rushed to the woman and covered her with a cloak saying - "I will get a cart for you m'Lady and have you ferried to the Port of Four Cities, at once. I will send forth a messanger, so that when you arrive bath, meal and a healer await you, at once. Or you could enjoy amenities here, I am certain Lord Adolphus won't mind."

Maura just steadied man's eager hands and said that she has more pressing needs, she requested that fifteen very best men in the Inquisitorial Guard be fetched here for her. "At once, yes, at once m'Lady" - with blatant eagerness the man began tending to Inquisitor's wishes. Not an hour later she caught sight of the men she requested forming a single line before her - and marvelous sight it was - over a dozen shapes of huge, terror-inducing steel-clad beasts. Their full plate suits of armour were covered with long black tabards of the Inquisition. She'd been informed that all of them were from noble families, sworn to Obeah and the Inquisition they gave up on their convenient lives and trained for years to be worthy of serving the Veiled Goddess.

"Take it off" - Maura said pointing to the black tabbards worn-over their armours. The men complied and the implacable greyness of their steel overwhelmed the room. When asked about the unusual hint the captain of the men just said - "They have a special armourer - the Inquisition - one special armourer just for this. They say he used to be a scholar for the Heralds. Noone knows what he does but the steel is different."

Maura stood before them, there was no need for shushing the men, when they noticed she's about to speak the hall became so quiet one could almost hear the crescendo of heartbeats.

"You are not Inquisitorial Guardsmen now. You will not hunt down heretics now. You will not shackle apostates now. You will not burn defilers." - a half-restrained murmur of shock slithered across the hall as the Inquisitor said these words.

"You are mankind Guardsmen now. You will hunt down daimons. You will shackle the agents of the Netherworld. You will burn otherworldly threat!" - Maura looked around and pleased with their reaction she continued - "Beasts that plague these lands are among the least dangerous foes you will face. Imagine seas of undead so vast that you would have to ride entire day just to get to their rearguard. Imagine beasts that fly over your walls and toss bolts of pure force from outside the range of your finest archers. You will not survive. You gave your life with your oath and to your oath I shall hold you. You will perish either at the hands of those horrific beasts... or mine. One way or another I will see each and every one of you die." - she looked again and satisfied still she added - "Fear not, you will be trained and educated to fight those creatures, so that you don't die all too soon."

"You will be known as the Grey Knights now" - She knocked on the armour of the closest knight - "Your colour is grey, for it stands right between the light and darkness - and so do we."

"Now..." - she turned to the official that still stood their - "... prepare me that bath and find me a guide that will take me to the Templar Nexus. I know this city well, but I never learned the whereabouts of that particular site."

–

Roleplay from Aion Von Weiss (17 days, 17 hours ago)

message to all nobles of Obia'Syela Small Galley sails toward the coast of Beluaterra. "Land ahead, Lord Aion" yells one of the sailors. "excellent, full sail toward nearest beach. We will not need our ship after we land." Galley rams into the rocky sand, damaging the ship's hull in the process. "My lord ,Rose won't carry us any further, her hull is in too bad shape." "Burn it down, it has no use to me any longer." Under the orders of young lord, Rose was set ablaze. After most of the Rose had been turned into pile of burnt wood, Aion gave order move inland and gather information about local politics. Unit was split into the groups of two, while riskier, it allowed unit gather much more information. Aion himself arrived in small settlement. Local population were vary of newly arrived visitors. "Hey you, stop!" Aion grabs one of the locals by the arm "Tell me, what is this place and is there an empty building to inhabit?" Local, wary of strangers says "I do not know anything, please do not disturb us working people." "I see how this is going to be," Aion grabs a knife from his sailor's hip, pushes local against house wall and stabs knife into the wall "I will give you choice, you will speak or you will end up like the wall behind you." Local completely shivering was unable to answer. "Wall it is then!" Aion took the knife from the wall, smiled and swung knife toward local. "Wait! I will tell what you ask." yelled little girl behind three men. Just before the impact between local and the knife Aion stopped. "Speak girl, I do not have whole day." "These lands belong to Count Divius Lancaster, lord of Obia'Syela and faithful of Obeah. There is Large estate to the east here, it has been uninhabited ever since Countess Kiki went missing. Most of it has been abandoned due to it's magnificent size and high upkeep. Only main rooms are being cleaned by few followers of Countess Kiki, as most have abandoned her teachings of perfections." "This little girl just saved your life, be grateful to her." Aion let go of the man and return's his sailor knife. "Gather the men and meet me in the estate!" ordered Aion. "Yes, Lord Aion!" At the front of the estate: "This is unreal," though Aion, "No lord or lady from here is unable to finance maintenance of this building. Who ever built it was either fanatic or completely insane." "My lord, we have arrived!" said the sailors as they lined up. "We are going to claim this estate and it's surrounding land's in the name of Von Weiss! Draw your Weapons and march forward, slaughter anyone who denies to submit!" As the sailors enter and open the grand doors of the estate they are greeted by volley of arrows, shot by masked servants of the estate. "Advance all of you, unless you want to die by my sword!" After few moments fighting had ended. Those who surrendered laid their bows down others were slaughtered without consent. Aion stepped over his own dead men bodies like he had no remorse for their death. Climbed up the stairs to the throne of the estate, sat and said "Now I can understand why that fanatic built this place, view is amazing up here." "My Lord, what are your orders?" asked one of the surviving sailors. "First of all clean up this mess, what you have created here, the take the dead servants and put their dead bodies all over my lands to show what happens to those who defy me. Second explore what is in this estate, I am quite sure there is something useful here. Third alive servants are to swipe the blood from the floor. I cannot have the blood in the main hall now, can I?" After a While: "My lord we have found huge library in one of the towers, with quite few weird face masks." Aion stood from his newly found seat and followed his sailor to the library. Hundreds if not thousands of books all covered in dust were lying around library. "Have servants clean this place up and find me all works from the last owner of this place including her finance plans, I want to know how she was able to afford all this! For now we shall start to travel toward the capitol." "Yes, Lord Aion!"

–

Roleplay from Jessica Gildre (30 days, 2 hours ago)

message to all nobles of Obia'Syela The kiss to her hand felt odd to her, but she gave a smile in the direction of Adolphus' voice. She heard a chair squeak on the floor next to her, and allowing Adolphus to hold it, she felt for the back, and then the seat, and carefully lowered herself into it. She shifted her weight as Adolphus nudged the chair in towards the table.

"I trust you'll indulge my oddity, in that I prepared this meal."

Jessica raised an eyebrow. Hadn't he servants? She doubted she could boil water if she needed to, let alone cook a meal. Even back when she had her sight. This rendez-vous certainly kept getting more and more interesting. An assortment of scents assaulted her, and she found herself lamenting her blindness. She wondered at the foods on the table which could give off such delicate and savoury smells.

She heard the clink of crystal, and a splash. "Whiskey, m'Lady," Bryant informed her, placing the glass in front of her. She touched the table and felt for the glass. Delicately, she lifted it in a general salute. She didn't know where Adolphus had seated himself, but she assumed he was across from her. She drank deeply as she waited for him to speak.

Alcohol was perhaps her one crutch, her vice. She loved it. She had decided that she would allow her this weakness. Certainly, none could go through the life she had endured without some sort of imbalance. Plus, she was in the fortunate position that she could drink away her troubles without the fear of saying anything stupid or inappropriate. One small advantage to being mute, she thought.

–

Roleplay from Lucius Archival (29 days, 23 hours ago)

message to all nobles of Obia'Syela The wait had begun to grow excruciating. His eyelids began to droop before, with a gust of energy, he shook his head and cast the weariness away - at least for a while longer. The courtier had long since ended his vigilant anticipation of the Oracle's arrival. Instead, he simply fought to remain awake and attentive; it was proving an abnormally difficult task, but he was determined to see it through.

He was vaguely aware of the senior priestess still being present, dozing somewhere nearby. He did not quite have the energy nor desire to rouse her. But a pressing question remained, where was the Oracle?

–

Roleplay from Aion Von Weiss (29 days, 18 hours ago)

Message sent to all nobles in the region Melegra (13 recipients) "Move those arms, you worthless runts. What am I paying you? Blood and sweat I want too see!" yells Aion at his men during the battle of Melegra. "But, Lord Aion no matter how many strikes we they won't go down." "You useless little s...," Aion sheathed his sword, grabbed his captain's axe and said "give me that!" Aion pushed his men out of his way and took huge swing toward the undead enemy. Axe connected with undead's neck, slashing through fully and making it's head fly. After the swing Aion quickly readied up another 2 swings. With those two swings he removed the arms from undead's torso. "This is how you do it," he return's his captain's axe "I do not care if I make pieces out of the beasts or you. I do not care if you die here to them or tomorrow to executioner axe for desertion or refusing to follow their commander's orders." "Bloody Tyrant!" yelled his men, before rushing to their death.

–

Roleplay from Antonia Fitz Roberts (28 days, 22 hours ago)

message to all nobles of Obia'Syela

Rosie hunts monsters

Hunting Report (6 hours ago)

One hunting party of 15 men meets 16 enemies of the Monsters unit. The enemy doesn't surrender and your men attack, wiping the enemy party out. 0 of your men die during the fight.

None of your men die, while you managed to hunt down 16 men of your opponent.

Rosie stalked through the undergrowth of one of the forests of Melegra, tracking down the last of the trolls that they had fought that day. They were not difficult creatures to track: even if they had not possessed their bulk and ungainly nature, their stench alone would have been enough. She looked back at the other women around her; Antonia had chosen them for this task because they were the best of the best, the finest trackers and killers within the Martyrs.

‘Stay low and silent’ she whispered, ‘we are close’. She wasn’t wrong, for they could all hear the harsh guttural speech of the trolls as they drew near to where the foul creatures had taken sanctuary. Silently she gave the signal to surround the camp and the Martyrs moved to obey. She caught snippets of their conversations, most concerning how they were going to rip apart the ‘man-things’ after the sun had risen and who had taken the last good moss for the drops. Rosie smiled at that. This group certainly wouldn’t be doing any man-thing ripping today.

She turned and nodded to her companions and gave a low whistle as she silently drew a throwing axe from her belt. A few of the trolls looked round at the noise, but were too late. Already the camp had descended into panic and chaos, as a whole range of missiles were thrown into the midst of the group. Rosie took careful aim and tossed her own axe into the centre of the camp, catching a troll who appeared to have acted as the cook for the pack square in the eye. It howled in pain and went down, clutching at its face. As the last Martyr threw her axe, Rosie gave the order to charge, roaring their war cry of ‘Acriter et Fideliter’. She ran at full pelt, already selecting her target as she charged into the centre of the camp. The beast turned as she came upon it and swung its mighty club. She sidestepped it and chopped her schiavona down into the beast’s arm, before thrusting her katzbalger into its side. It roared in rage and agony and tried swipe at her with its unwounded arm, but she deftly ducked, using her small stature to her advantage, and stabbed her schiavona into its undefended face. At this, the beast went down. Rosie put her foot on its mighty body and heaved her blades from its torso and head. She turned to see what was happening with the rest of the Martyrs and began to laugh at what she saw. Only one troll was still standing, being baited by three martyrs armed with boarding pikes as the others dispatched the downed trolls. Not one of them had been wounded or even grazed. It had been a perfect ambush

‘Kill it’ she ordered, ‘and do not make it quick’

A short while later, Rosie walked into the Obian camp with the hunting party behind her, several of them holding a selection of troll heads. They threw the troll heads at Antonia’s feet. Antonia looked at the heads and then into the eyes of her friend, showing no emotion. Then her face broke into laughter and she ran to hug Rosie, lifting her into the air in a great bear hug. They would celebrate well tonight

–

Roleplay from Adolphus Schwarzherzig (21 days, 19 hours ago)

message to all nobles of Obia'Syela Adolphus sipped his own whiskey and grinned as the Grand Inquisitor partook as well. The meal progressed, the next course a lobster bisque and white wine. Adolphus paused after a few spoonfuls.

"The specialization of the Inquisition is an excellent idea. The Daimon Hunters will serve well, and their leader was superbly chosen." Adolphus commented, taking another spoonful of the rich dish in front of him.

"However... It is not enough." Adolphus finished, his grim tone returning.

–

Roleplay from Vahanian Blint (21 days, 22 hours ago)

message to all nobles of Obia'Syela The last bit of light had begun to sink down and fade from the world, as Vahanian made his way through his campsite, a slain stag across his shoulders. He passed by one of his messengers and instructed him. "Summon Marshal Maura, she and I have an unfinished conversation."

The messenger sped off to find the Marshal and deliver the Grand Templar's message. Meanwhile, Vahanian made his way into a tent right next to his personal quarters. He laid his fresh kill across a table and donned a leather apron and a butchers belt. He rolled up his sleeves and began working a blade into the carcass of the stag. He guided his blade across the bowel of the animal and carefully removed the organs, depositing them into a large wooden bowl. After all the organs had been removed, Vahanian stepped outside of the tent, blood dripping from his hands and arms, he took a deep breath, wiped his hands on a cloth and waited for a servant to bring him a kettle of tea. He needed a break from the smell of the carcass.

He sipped his tea, as he stared up at the stars, his mind wandering to a life long past.

–

Roleplay from Maura Arnickles Renodin (21 days, 8 hours ago)

message to all nobles of Obia'Syela Maura took just one of the Grey Knights to accompany her. It was not like she needed protection walking the couple of hundred yards to Grand Templar's camp. The messenger lead the two, fearfully looking back at the steel-clad giant walking next to marshal. Maura followed his gaze amused, but could not feel surprise at the reaction. She never met a woman taller than herself, except for dame Antonia, and barely ever had she saw a man taller than herself, and still when she looked up to the Grey Knight beside her she saw a shape a whole foot taller. Granted - a lot of that was due to military boots, helmet and overgrown shoulderguards of 'pneumatic' build. Those last ones looked scary but frankly impractical, though armoursmith promised with a knife on his throat that they actually provided some arcane benefit in battle due to tiny rods of flexible metal inside the hollow interior.

When they reached their destination she saw Grand Templar sitting in front of his tent, sipping tea. The old man looked entirely harmless, benign even. But she knew well enough that this particular book should definitely not be judged by it's cover. She recalled how Lord Vahanian obliterated Goriad in a duel, and he was possibly the finest warrior in the realm. At any given moment this friendly tea-sipping grandpa could transform into a storm of death-dealing violence. In that part him and her were quite alike.

"Grand Templar" - she said in greeting and inclined her head in a soldierly nod, then looked at his hands grimed with blood - "I see you were hunting, recent kill?"

–

Roleplay from Vahanian Blint (21 days, 5 hours ago)

message to all nobles of Obia'Syela Vahanian stirred from his thoughts at the sound of the marshal's voice. He smiled politely at her and stood, bowing his head slightly. "My lady, indeed, fresh this evening, I was just in the middle of butchering it when I felt like having a cup of tea. Shall we?" He indicated inside the tent and let Maura follow him in. Behind his façade of a polite docile old man, his mind was turning, the ideas swirling, and the plots thickening. He intentionally invited Maura into the tent where his kill lay partially butchered, the stench of death growing by the moment. He wanted to see how she reacted - not at the site of blood or death, but simply in a situation that most nobles would describe as 'Uncomfortable'. It was a cheap ploy, and one that he was relatively sure Maura would ignore, but it never hurt to try..

As he began to expertly work the blades into the carcass once more his eyes barely left his work, and he said "So, Marshal, what would you like to know?"

–

Roleplay from Maura Arnickles Renodin (21 days, 3 hours ago)

message to all nobles of Obia'Syela The Inquisitor followed Grand Templar into the tent and as soon as the flap opened she smelled the sweet scent of a carcass. Most would recoil or at least wince, but she just gulped down some of the spit that quickly filled her mouth. Being brought up on the desert she often fed on half-raw meat, dessicated in extreme temperatures. Adult minds crave the sustenance of their childhood and so the scent of carrion served to bolster Maura's appetite.

Marshal sat on the stool several feet behind Vahanian's back, but seeing as her host started to work on his game she immediately stood up and approached him as he enquired:

"So, Marshal, what would you like to know?"

"That is a broad question, Grand Templar." - she said, now standing next to him, as she pulled a knife out of her greave as unalarmingly as one could possibly manage and started to make small cuts around the animal's neck - "I would like to know what do you think of my new venture, I would like to know if the Templar Order would help with it and most importantly I would like to know if you would share your deep knowledge of our ultimate enemy. Your experience with fighting daimon kind is nigh unparalleled in our realm. I seek to learn, so that I can be ready when the daimons come again."

Only upon finishing her answer did she noticed Grand Templar's attention. She was about to take the skin off the head of the stag but instead she quickly let go of her knife. What on earth have I done?! - she scolded herself in her mind. She acted instinctively - whenever she saw someone gutting a big animal she would go on and start flaying that animal, so that work is done quicker and so that meat of the head is not wasted. Apparently never in the past three and a half year of her noble life has she saw anyone gut a carcass. She would slap her forehead if she had just a little bit less self-restraint. He must think I acted like a commoner - she thought, wondering if the whole situation was such by design. Thinking of a way to save face she struggled to say something appropriate:

"Venison makes for a very good brawn" - she muttered clumsily, not very satisfied with the attempt.

–

Roleplay from Adolphus Schwarzherzig (20 days, 20 hours ago)

message to all nobles of Obia'Syela Adolphus leaned back in his chair.

"Everyone focuses primarily on the threat of the Netherworld, which, believe me, I understand more than most." Adolphus intoned, pausing as the next course was served. Bits of steak, bacon and peppers on skewers, with a sweet red wine. He took a bite, and continued.

"What I propose is the formation of the Ordo Magi. A specialised group of witch hunters. Magic can be used to raise the dead in an obscene mockery of life, summon monsters, rend flesh and bring forts crumbling down... In its weakest form. Portal magic is infinitely more dangerous. A small group of infiltrators, trained to use our own magic against those who would corrupt Obeah's gift to us, would be the most effective way of safeguarding humanity."

–