Velaryon Family/Monford/Monford's Fall
| Letter from Canut Snodaert | |
| Lords and Ladies,
The Undead in Padaost have taken Duke Monford's life. He charged forth into battle prematurely as have some of our number Against express orders and although valiant this has caused the demise of many good men. Monford was my personal friend, the first one I met on the harbour quai of Alebad on my first day here. I will miss him dearly and I will remember our victories and defeats for ever. I need you all to change your settings to defensive. Back box defensive [3DB] and for the riders rear wedge defensive [4DW]. We will hold our ceremony later and today, if anyone can apprehend the cretinous Brutus, please do. In anyone knows an adventurer with a scroll of resurrection, let them step forwards. Your Canut | |
| Canut Snodaert | |
| Letter from Rosalind Poe | |
| We aren't going to bury him here are we?
Can't we at least take him and bury him closer to home far away from the dominion and witches that lurk this way. He was Senator of Grentzen before me and was my Marshal, I can't leave him here. Corvus Bennetti, | |
| Rosalind Poe | |
| Letter from Krugg Hall | |
| To Senator Rosalind Poe, I'd bring poor Monford to Alebad where we can make him something nice out of marble, and see him off. | |
| Krugg Hall | |
| Letter from Canut Snodaert | |
| Lords an Ladies of Halcyon,
The loss of Monford, cavalier extraordinaire of the realm. Our former Doge, our Duke and our Governor. He was slain by the undead dominion in what would have been a grand victory. Our forces outmatched the enemy twice over and our archers alone would have killed every one of them before we made contact. Monford, why did you have to charge out to meet your demise. Like a knight tilting windmills. What role did the perverted Brutus play in the treason? Why did he even have to whitness your untimely death. You were a hero of the republic. An inspiration to all and a pillar of the realm. The unsightly hordes emitting from the darkness did not deserve to strike you down. They were fit only to be ridden down by your steed. We will build a mausoleum in Alebad in your honor if I have to pay for it out of my families own pocket. A hero's fate is never to grow old. Such was your choice. Yours, | |
| Canut Snodaert | |
| Letter from Calla Fate | |
| I only knew Monford a brief time but have long admired his long history of heroics. If we cannot resurrect him, he deserves a burial befitting a hero such as he. | |
| Calla Fate | |
| Letter from Isidro de Zueww | |
| Woe and grief. If only we had decent intelligent adventures skilled in healing and magic who could save our general, but no, we have Bert who I wouldn't trust to chop the head off a chicken. | |
| Isidro de Zueww | |
| Letter from Imrahil Mormont | |
| The loss of Duke Monford is a bitter draft to take. I to counted him as a close friend. This is devastating news for the realm. I will make preparations for the City receiving his body and a day of mourning will be held in our capital. | |
| Imrahil Mormont | |
| Letter from Antonio Maxwell | |
| By order of the Duke of Terra Meridionale, all flags are to be put to half mast to mourn the hero. | |
| Antonio Maxwell | |
| Letter from Ash Ketchum | |
| It is sad to hear his passing. Monford was a brave hero. I was glad to fight alongside him against the Undead Dominion. Sadly there will be no more next time. | |
| Ash Ketchum | |
| Letter from Desmond Peregrine | |
| A fine man. A fine death. An unfortune loss for us, those who remain in the mortal realm. | |
| Desmond Peregrine | |
| Letter from Sevima MacArbin | |
| Nobles of the Sovereign Republic of Halcyon, I write to you today with a heavy heart.
We fought well against the horde today, and after having wounded the cur Brutus so recently, the glory of the battle was thrilling through me. I had planned to send a letter I had been considering for some days, in answer to letters from the good Duke. For with my blood running high, I was ready to accept his proposal. I will admit, I was not certain until I saw the undead staring down at me with their lidless sockets, when I realized that I was ready. And when I heard the word of his fall, I could only stare at his last letter, reading it over and over. It was little enough, but it was the last he wrote to me. Letter from Monford Velaryon (Personal message to Sevima MacArbin) - 3 days, 6 hours, 47 minutes ago Senator Sevima, I would like to assure you that I will be sending a runner your way with 200 bonds as soon as I reach the bank again. You have truly done a great job with Brutus and this only strengthens my resolve to pursue betrothal with you. I don't want to sound pushy, but have you given any thought to my proposal? Signed, While we were not yet betrothed, we would have been, had this day not gone so ill. And so I ask for the right to escort his body back to his beloved city and duchy. And I ask this: Let me continue his legacy. Let me continue his work in Oritolon, and erect a magnificent statue of him, within eyesight of the palace so I might see his visage each day. Let me be the helpmeet I should have been, to make up in some small way for not answering his letter in time. As I pledged, and proved true with my fortune and resolve, to see to the repair of the walls of Iglavik, let me pledge this, and give me the chance to prove myself true once again, in building a magnificent monument to a great man in Oritolon. Let me do him this last honour, that I could not do for him in life. | |
| Sevima MacArbin | |
| Letter from Desmond Peregrine | |
| A fine man. A fine death. An unfortune loss for us, those who remain in the mortal realm. | |
| Desmond Peregrine | |
| Roleplay from Caravanthian Arylon | |
| Caravanthian still couldn't believe that it was true.
Monford was gone. The bastard always wanted to go out in a blaze of glory, and he had gotten what he wished for. But in his last moments, he had robbed Caravanthian of perhaps his greatest friend, and the only man that truly knew him. The real him. Monford, Canut and Caravanthian had all arrived on the shores of Alebad at virtually the same time. All three had come to a realm that was breathing its last breath, the embers of a dying fire. When they came, there was no hope, no prospects for the future, no glory to be had or achievements to be dreamed of. There was just the last desperate gasp of a once proud realm, ready to pass quietly into eternity. Yet none of the three wished their new home to perish. Each dedicated themselves to fighting for the Burning Phoenix, and each hoped an impossible hope: that the Burning Phoenix would fly over the whole of the continent. It began simply enough with some repelled invasions of Alebad. It grew from there, as the three warriors -- and a resurgent nobility -- instilled discipline, aggressiveness, and ingenuity to the realm's military. Little by little, insurgent Triumvirate of Halcyon began to engineer minor victories, and then pushed forward towards the most important milestone that directed Halcyon's future into something more, the Battle of the Hooves. Engineered primarily by Monford and Canut, the Battle of the Hooves was a massive engagement in Bode Batura that pit the armies of Oritolon and Halcyon against those of the hegemonic Tilogians. The battle was named as such owing to the use of cavalry, which made the ultimate difference in what was a very close and bloody battle. To this day the Battle of the Hooves remains one of the most important of battles in Halcyon's history as it marked a shift in the war and allowed a first majestic victory for the southern federation. From those early days, it was Caravanthian's friendship with Monford and Canut that gave him purpose. It was them -- not him -- that provided the optimism and sense of ambitious possibility that turned the fortunes of Halcyon around. Truth be told, he often wondered to himself what he contributed to the "Three Headed Phoenix" as many had begun calling them. Unlike his brother, or any of his nephews, Caravanthian was not a military strategist or brilliant general. He was a simple soldier. Monford always used to tell him that politics, law, oratory and philosophy were where Caravanthian's contributions were most important. "A realm that wins its battles and achieves material destiny is but a hollow husk, and its victories hollow," he would say, "unless the realm stands for something. Unless it all means something." Through many battles and the resurgence of Halcyon, Monford was there. Caravanthian had supported him for the premiership of the republic, believing that he was exactly the strong leader the realm needed. He had pledged his life's blood to Monford through the War of Southern Justice, pledging to stop at nothing until the criminal Johannes was brought to justice. He continued that support after the war, when the Phoenix standard was hoisted above more regions. Through it all, Caravanthian could rest easy knowing that his friend was there. Even when he stepped down, Monford was there, once again providing a guide for him. It was he who had asked Caravanthian to run for Consol. It was he who convinced him, when the initial refusal came, that it was his duty to lead the Republic into a new, glorious future. And ultimately, it was Monford, and his pledge to be there to lead the armies of the Phoenix, that gave him the piece of mind necessary to actually seek the position. And now he was gone. When he heard the news, the Consul had entered a state of shock. How could he publicly acknowledge what his friend had meant to him? How could their adventures together ever be put into words? How could such a statesman, such a man be honored, and have it come off as anything other than insufficient and disappointing. Monford always said Caravanthian had a way with words, but in this he knew his friend was wrong. There were no words to describe his heartache. | |
| Caravanthian Arylon | |
| Roleplay from Caravanthian Arylon | |
| And yet, his conspicuous silence had been noticed, as had his decision to rename Vermillion Knights. The latter had been interpreted as a slight against Monford, when in fact it was the opposite. The Consul had renamed the army as the Vermillion Knights had been founded to serve Monford, and serve the head of the Republic. Without Monford, the Republic had lost its First Citizen. Without Monford, there could be no Vermillion Knights. It felt... wrong. In the end, he had retired the name out of respect, in eternal recognition of Monford's importance.
The realm had seen this, and misinterpreted the actions (or inaction) resulting from Caravanthian's suffering. Nowhere was this seen more acutely than by Monford's own kin. The upstart Gavillius was in many ways much like Monford. Fiery, aggressive, speaking his mind and unafraid of offending those who held power. But because of the Consul's failure to pay tribute to his friend, he feared he had unintentionally driven a wedge between him and this new man. That could not be helped, now. He would have to deal with that later. Now? Now he was doing what he could. Since Monford's death, Caravanthian had used his proselytising as a cover for his true activities. Today, he was in Cramir Woods, in the furthermost reaches of the western coast of The Colonies. He had found an area of jagged, rocky coast, and had found the rock he had been looking for. He reached into his satchel, and pulled out a fine, engraved chisel and a small hammer. Long ago, after Caravanthian had won the Consulship, he had entertained his friend in the Republican Palace at Alebad, to celebrate their continued prosperity. After pouring him a drink of Phoenix Fire, Caravanthian turned introspective, and asked Monford what -- if anything -- he wanted out of the remainder of his life. "After all, my friend, you have already achieved so much that if you were to die today, your name would already be written in the histories," he said, "and your name would be known this world over. What is it that you want now?" Monford had smiled at him, downed his drink in a single gulp, slammed the glass on the table, and roared a laugh, "I'll tell you what I want, Arylon..." The new Consul looked at his friend, bemused. "I want to carve my name into stone in the four corners of The Colonies. I want to say that I have been everywhere, seen everything, and that each place has been imprinted by me, changed by me, and that the name of Monford will always be remembered there. That is what I want, and that is what I shall have." In that moment Caravanthian knew he was serious, and that if he was given the time he would have achieved that goal. But now, he was dead. He was never going to leave his imprint on the four corners of The Colonies. He was never going to go everywhere, and see everything. Unless Caravanthian did something about it. He bent down to the rock and held his chisel in place. His hammer swung hard, but carefully, as the carved the letters into rock. So insistent was he on doing it right, that it took him nearly an hour to finish. When he was done, he bent down, blew the dust from what he had done, and looked down at his handiwork: Monford Velaryon After finishing, he reached again into his satchel and withdrew an urn. "Now, my friend, you will have been here," he said as he uncapped the container, reached in, and sprinkled ashes into the soil. "And you will have seen here. And you will have changed here, just as you wanted. And I promise you, you will never be forgotten." His solitary prayer having concluded, Caravanthian packed up his tools and the urn, and got ready to move to the hostile north, where he would repeat this ritual twice more, to finally fulfill Monford's greatest wish. | |
| Caravanthian Arylon | |
