https://wiki.battlemaster.org/api.php?action=feedcontributions&user=Marcus+Daubeny&feedformat=atomBattleMaster Wiki - User contributions [en]2024-03-29T04:41:51ZUser contributionsMediaWiki 1.33.0https://wiki.battlemaster.org/index.php?title=Briarwood_Family/Liliyana/The_Ball_of_Thorns&diff=218646Briarwood Family/Liliyana/The Ball of Thorns2023-09-15T15:39:41Z<p>Marcus Daubeny: </p>
<hr />
<div>[[/Meanwhile/]]<br />
<br />
{{BMMessage<br />
|Width=80<br />
|Type=Roleplay<br />
|Sent=Sun Aug 20, 2023 14:55:25<br />
|Sender=Lilyana Briarwood|Recipients=Message sent to all nobles of Perdan (18 recipients)<br />
|Content=<p><u><strong>Lilyana: The Ball of Thorns</strong></u></p><br />
<br />
<p>In the soft glow of the moonlight, Lilyana Briarwood stood regally at the entrance to her family mansion. The delicate beams filtered through the overgrown garden, casting ethereal shadows that danced upon the walls of the small, purple-hued mansion. Its exterior, adorned with thorny vines that had long lost their vibrancy, seemed to meld with the night, creating an air of both elegance and eerie mystery.</p><br />
<br />
<p>She wore a wispy black dress that flowed around her curvaceous figure like wisps of smoke. Lilyana's midnight black hair cascaded down her shoulders, and her burgundy eyes held an eerie depth that shimmered in the moonlight. Her presence exuded a captivating charm that seemed to beckon the moonlight to her side.</p><br />
<br />
<p>With a serene exhale, she smoothed out the few crinkles in her dress and straightened her posture. Tonight, a grand ball was to take place within these walls, a gathering of the elite and the powerful. Lilyana's gaze turned wistful as she contemplated her missing younger brother, Malachi. She hoped he was safe, somewhere far from harm's reach.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Her introspection was broken by the authoritative clearing of a throat. A middle-aged man, marked by a salt-and-pepper beard and cold navy blue eyes, approached her. "Are you ready to receive our guests, Daughter?" he inquired, his voice resonating with both command and underlying tension.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Lilyana nodded gracefully, her countenance unwavering. "Yes, Father," she replied, her voice a soft, soothing murmur, "will Mother be joining us?" A subtle note of concern laced her words, a question left hanging in the air.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Her father's gaze narrowed, and his tone turned sombre. "No. Not tonight," he replied tersely. Leaning in, he spoke in hushed tones, a venomous undercurrent tainting his words. "You look the part but do not forget what your duty is. Try not to enjoy yourself too much tonight, <em>Dame Briarwood</em>."</p><br />
<br />
<p>Lilyana's smile remained steadfast as she met her father's gaze. "But of course, <em>Ser Elias Briarwood</em>," she responded with unruffled grace, her words a gentle reminder of her stature and resilience.</p><br />
<br />
<p>With those words, her father walked away, leaving her in the moonlit silence. A sigh escaped her lips, and she turned her attention to the rising moon, a symbol of change and new beginnings. "And so it begins, time to put on a show," she murmured to herself, her voice carrying a sense of purpose.</p><br />
<br />
<p>A clap of her hands brought forth a servant, adorned in a silver elk skull mask, from the shadows. "Ma'am?" the servant inquired.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Lilyana turned to face them, her expression composed and decisive. "Inform the others," she instructed, her voice carrying the weight of her authority, "let the musicians start and have the guests admitted in. It's time."</p><br />
<br />
<p>The servant bowed respectfully and retreated, carrying out Lilyana's orders with quiet efficiency. As the night progressed, guests began to arrive, drawn to the mansion by the enchanting melodies that emanated from within. Lilyana steeled herself, her warm smile in place as she greeted each guest with poise and charm.</p><br />
<br />
<p>The mansion soon echoed with the lively strains of music, its haunting beauty resonating in every corner. Lilyana stood, a figure of elegance and mystery, presiding over the Court of Thorns. As the moonlight continued to wash over her family's mansion, she embraced the role fate had cast upon her, ready to navigate the dance of intrigue and nobility that awaited within the shadows of this most auspicious night.</p><br />
<br />
<p> </p><br />
<br />
<p>(Music I have playing for reference: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pxFS1DFRnrk )</p><br />
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|Title=Roleplay from Lilyana Briarwood<br />
|Signature=}}<br />
{{BMMessage<br />
|Width=80<br />
|Type=Roleplay<br />
|Sent=Tue Aug 22, 2023 09:19:18<br />
|Sender=Juste Lamphear|Recipients=Message sent to all nobles of Perdan (19 recipients)<br />
|Content=<p><strong>Pirouetting Under the Lunar Gaze; The Briarwood Ball</strong>.<br /><br />
<br /><br />
The music was <em>serene.</em> Perfect, even. The ensemble of strings called out into the night like a siren song, entrancing the young knight as he stepped from his buggy.<br /><br />
<br /><br />
"G'luck to ye, laddie, advisor says with a glint in his eye. No chaperone needed; Juste would brave this night alone.<br /><br />
<br /><br />
The night seemed to be Sir Juste's favourite time. While his family colours were white and red, Juste opted for a full black garb with red trimming. His trousers fit tightly and had red pinstripes that tucked away under knee-high leather boots that had cuffs at the tops. He wore a red undershirt with a black vest and coat, both adorned with crimson trimming and the family crest on his back. Ultimately, he wasn't dressed too regal, but enough to pass for a proper guest.<br /><br />
<br /><br />
The young knight's stark hair was let down to flow over his back as he took long, purposeful strides into the moonlit mansion. A knowing grin was plastered over his face as he is finally given the chance to meet with Dame Liliyana for the first time. With the grace of a ln ebony cat, he would reach out for her hand with a bow of his head, offering a kiss to her fingers while greeting her. "Well met, Dame Liliyana. The night is perfect."</p><br />
|Title=Roleplay from Juste Lamphear<br />
|Signature=}}<br />
<br />
{{BMMessage<br />
|Width=80<br />
|Type=Roleplay<br />
|Sent=Tue Aug 22, 2023 11:23:06<br />
|Sender=Lilyana Briarwood|Recipients=Message sent to all nobles of Perdan (19 recipients)<br />
|Content=<p><u><strong>Lilyana: The Ball of Thorns</strong></u></p><br />
<br />
<p>As the guests filed in – a collection of rich merchants and minor nobles of Aix – Lilyana greeted each with a polite and serene smile. Her lips curved gracefully, but her thoughts danced in cryptic patterns as she observed the unimpressive arrivals. These were her father's friends, a network of connections tied through social and financial bonds. Some faces were familiar, acquaintances from the echelons of nobility, and she could already foresee the pattern of the night.</p><br />
<br />
<p>It was a ritual repeated far too often. Her father's companions had brought their sons, suitors preordained by familial aspirations. Lilyana's heart sighed with resignation; once again, she would have to deflect advances that held no genuine interest for her. With a soft exhalation, she prepared herself for the chore of the evening.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Amid the sea of mundane interactions, one figure stood apart. A lone silhouette, purposeful and regal, strode with conviction toward the entrance. His attire spoke of higher nobility, befitting someone of her own stature. Her eyes traced his movements, recognizing the distinction in his bearing even though she was unable to discern his colours or insignia.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Politely, she extricated herself from the clutches of an old soldier turned merchant, Rickard Trask, who was ensnaring her in a web of tedious war stories. With a smile that concealed her distant thoughts, she addressed him, "Perhaps thee can finish thy tale inside, Good Lord. It sounds like one best shared over drinks and one not to be kept to myself. I hear Mr. Astigar has a love for such tales." The old man nodded, grinning, and ambled indoors, leaving Lilyana free to pursue a more captivating conversation.</p><br />
<br />
<p>As the lone figure drew closer, Lilyana's gaze remained locked on him. His presence resonated differently, sparking her curiosity in ways that others couldn't. His steps were deliberate, each one carrying an air of calculated elegance. When he reached her, their eyes met, and her cryptic smile shifted subtly into one of genuine warmth.</p><br />
<br />
<p>The soft rustle of fabric accompanied her movement as she extended her hand. In the pale moonlight, her cheeks took on the faintest hue of blush as he pressed a gentle kiss to her hand. "Greetings and grace upon thee, Ser Juste," she said, her voice a soothing melody wrapped in an eerie cadence. "The night is beautiful, isn't it? But I would not call it perfect. There is much yet to be seen. I am grateful thee came."</p><br />
<br />
<p>His presence, his energy, was a fresh breath of air to the night. She offered him a delicate curtsey, her eyes gleaming with inquisitiveness as she spoke, "Welcome to my home. The Court of Thorns welcomes and embraces thee for this night. May thee enjoy it."</p><br />
<br />
|Title=Roleplay from Lilyana Briarwood<br />
|Signature=}}<br />
{{BMMessage<br />
|Width=80<br />
|Type=Roleplay<br />
|Sent=Tue Aug 22, 2023 16:23:29<br />
|Sender=Juste Lamphear|Recipients=Message sent to all nobles of Perdan (19 recipients)<br />
|Content=<p><u><strong>Juste: The Ball of Thorns</strong></u></p><br />
<br />
<p>Sir Juste was a reserved young man. He was clearly listening to Dame Lilyana as she spoke to him, but his attention was also fixated on everything around him. He was keeping tabs on every exit, every witness, and every alibi as if he were a thief infiltrating a big score. If she was attentive enough, Dame Lilyana might even catch on to his mannerisms. It wouldn't be farfetched for her to wonder if he was prone to paranoia. Regardless of it all, he too had picked up the same patterns she has.</p><br />
<br />
<p><em>This isn't her party.</em> He thinks to himself. <em>It's a party for her, sure. But it's not her party. Looks like I'm the first of the Perdanese martial heads to have arrived. I bet she's itching for an excuse to not be stuck with political agendas and would-be suitors.</em></p><br />
<br />
<p>"I am grateful, Dame Lilyana for the hospitality of yourself and your esteemed family. I look forward to meeting with more of...<em>Our </em>peers as the night goes on. Though I admit that I would be pleased to share wine and conversation with you before you are lost to the...<em>Masses.</em>"</p><br />
<br />
<p>A keen ear would pick up Juste's accent. It was subtle, and sounded as if many years of study went into hiding it. But English was not his native tongue, which was odd for a son of Aix. His voice was gentle, and flowed like the silk that lined the inside of his shoulder cloak. Most people speak with body language that gives them away. A subtle curve of the brow, or flick of their gaze. Hand motions, nodding, or leaning. And while Juste wasn't immune to body language, he was definitely using an incredibly small amount of it, as if the notion of doing so was being kept in check.</p><br />
<br />
<p>How disciplined.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Shameless, however was the attempt for a <em>second</em> kiss to her fingers, to be done while locking eyes with a mid-thirties charlatan that had been watching the two Knights like a hawk. Dame Lilyana would be afforded plenty of time to react, but he was likely to move on soon after.</p><br />
<br />
|Title=Roleplay from Juste Lamphear<br />
|Signature=}}<br />
<br />
{{BMMessage<br />
|Width=80<br />
|Type=Roleplay<br />
|Sent=Wed Aug 23, 2023 04:51:19<br />
|Sender=Lilyana Briarwood|Recipients=Message sent to all nobles of Perdan (19 recipients)<br />
|Content=<p><strong><u>Lilyana: The Ball of Thorns</u></strong></p><br />
<br />
<p>Lilyana's eyes shimmered with intrigue as Juste remained in her gaze. His guarded demeanour, the way his eyes scanned the estate's entrance, it all danced with a hint of caution. She sensed more than met the eye, a man cautious not of thievery but of something deeper, something concealed. Her lips curved in a quiet acknowledgment of his vigilance, a touch of amusement hiding behind the cryptic veneer of her expression.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Observing him, she contemplated his mannerisms, the restrained way he moved, and the economy of his gestures. This knight of the realm, he held himself back. There was a story behind his eyes, one she intended to uncover.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Recognition flickered in Juste's gaze as he thanked her for the hospitality. His choice of words caught her attention—a subtle emphasis on "our peers" and the idea of her being "lost to the masses." Lilyana perceived the emphasis and felt the weight behind them. He knew, she realized, he understood the role her father had assigned to her this evening. The unspoken words echoed between them, a shared understanding of the orchestrated charade. Ever a connoisseur of nuances, Lilyana detected a soft accent that flavoured his speech. A second language, spoken with mastery yet revealing glimpses of his origins. Another layer to unravel in due time.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Her response was a delicate smile, a subtle nod acknowledging his words. "Indeed, sharing conversation and wine with a fellow knight of Aix would be an honour," she said, her voice a whispered melody. "But to desert the entrance with the absence of my presence? <em>Unthinkable</em>. Who else would extend greetings to our <em>esteemed </em>guests?" A delicate finger tapped her chin in a thoughtful gesture, and a plan took shape behind her eyes.</p><br />
<br />
<p>"Would thee perhaps grace me with thy company through the gardens?" she proposed her voice a soft invitation. "There is a small patio nearby from where we could see the entrance. A place less congested, where conversations may flow freely, no?"</p><br />
<br />
<p>As if in response, her gaze shifted momentarily, meeting her father's frigid stare from across the hall. His disapproval was palpable, the icy daggers he cast her way an unspoken warning. A challenge glinted in Lilyana's eyes, silent defiance directed at the man who sought to control her.</p><br />
<br />
<p>A kiss upon her hand brought her back to the present, Juste's eyes a shield against an impertinent gaze. Her cheeks flushed, a delicate pink tinging her skin, as she smiled anew. "Shameless, Ser Juste. An interesting move," she remarked, her tone a velvet murmur.</p><br />
<br />
<p>With a graceful inclination of her head, she gestured toward the gardens, a realm veiled in the moonlight. "Shall we? Or does the heart of the mansion hold greater allure?" Her gaze sparkled with curiosity.</p><br />
<br />
|Title=Roleplay from Lilyana Briarwood<br />
|Signature=}}<br />
{{BMMessage<br />
|Width=80<br />
|Type=Roleplay<br />
|Sent=Thu Aug 24, 2023 09:16:12<br />
|Sender=Juste Lamphear|Recipients=Message sent to all nobles of Perdan (20 recipients)<br />
|Content=<p><strong>Juste: The Briarwood Ball</strong><br /><br />
<br /><br />
A careful gaze is cast in the direction of Dame Lilyana's presumed father. Donald <em>did</em> tell Juste about the man, but at the same time, it was also information from Donald. You would need more than a pinch of salt when listening to his opinions.<br /><br />
<br /><br />
"Denying your invitation would be folly, Dame Lilyana. The night is still in its infancy. There's yet plenty of time left for me to ignore everyone else here. For I do not recall seeing their signatures on the invitation."<br /><br />
<br /><br />
Sir Juste somehow managed to straight his posture even more than it already was as he presents his arm to to his fellow Knight. And while he wasn't trying to make things too obvious, it would likely be clear to Lilyana that Juste was poking the bear. Seems like inciting the ire of her father was a game to him.<br /><br />
<br /><br />
Other things for Lilyana to take note of in regards to Juste was the fact that he was still yet young. Though despite his age, he presented himself with the etiquette and mannerisms of someone who was well practiced. Most men his age, even some of nobility would be cocky, especially with being a newly appointed Knight, but not Juste. He was careful and meticulous, almost like he was under some sort of spell.<br /><br />
<br /><br />
While they walked, he would start the volley by requesting, "Tell me about your experiences thus far, is it at all like what you expected?"</p><br />
|Title=Roleplay from Juste Lamphear<br />
|Signature=}}<br />
<br />
{{BMMessage<br />
|Width=80<br />
|Type=Roleplay<br />
|Sent=Fri Aug 25, 2023 06:28:48<br />
|Sender=Lilyana Briarwood|Recipients=(Personal message to Juste Lamphear)<br />
|Content=<p>Lilyana: The Ball of Thorns<br />
<p>Lilyana's smile, warm as the moon's glow, held a mischievous glint in her burgundy eyes as she turned her attention to Juste. With a movement that was both inviting and daring, she leaned slightly into him, her arm entwining with his, as if she reveled in the disturbance they had ignited within her father's carefully orchestrated evening.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Their connection seemed to provoke a crack in the veneer of her father's composure; Lilyana could have sworn she heard the chime of a shattering wine glass, a sound that blended harmoniously with her laughter.</p><br />
<br />
<p>"Ser Juste, isn't it curious? How many have come uninvited to an occasion where the few are expected," she mused cryptically, her voice like the soft rustle of leaves. </p><br />
<br />
<p>Together, they strolled into the heart of the moonlit gardens, a labyrinth of shadows and secrets. Her gaze flitted toward Juste, observing the refined poise that set him apart from the knights she often crossed paths with. There was an aura of enchantment surrounding him, as if he were ensnared by a spell, a sensation Lilyana knew intimately.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Juste's inquiry dipped into that of her experiences, drawing her musings to the surface. Her response was wrapped in layers of cryptic candour, her words like riddles threaded with a soft sense of confidence. "In some aspects, yes, it was what I expected," she replied, her voice like the sigh of a breeze. "The realm at times hushed, like the breath held before a storm. And yet, their tapestry is woven with threads of distant tales and subtle politics, adding flavour and colour to the tapestry."</p><br />
<br />
<p>Her gaze lingered on him, the moonlight reflecting in her burgundy eyes. "Combat, too, has graced my path. The cleansing of Clermont, a dance with dangerous beasts. My Heartseekers, once a battalion of forty, found themselves facing loss, yet my brother and I reaped the beasts' final breaths."</p><br />
<br />
<p>She lowered herself gracefully onto a stone seat on a secluded patio, and her eyes locked onto Juste's as she continued, "Yet Aix, the birthplace of my youth, has painted a spectrum of experiences. An enchanting city, isn't it? Its secrets whispered through cobblestone streets."</p><br />
<br />
<p>With a grace that seemed innate, she motioned for him to join her. "And what of thee, Ser Juste? What pages has life penned in thy story? What melodies dance within thy memories?"</p><br />
</p><br />
|Title=Roleplay from Lilyana Briarwood<br />
|Signature=<p class="titleSignature"><span style="color:#fff">Lilyana Briarwood</span><br /><span style="color:#cde">Dame of <span class="realm_1">Aix</span></span></p><p class="heraldrySignature"><img src="//battlemaster.org/heraldry/preview.php/italian-sable-pile-purpure-winged_stag_rampant-argent-icon.svg" /></p>}}<br />
<br />
{{BMMessage<br />
|Width=80<br />
|Type=Roleplay<br />
|Sent=Fri Aug 25, 2023 09:17:04<br />
|Sender=Juste Lamphear|Recipients=(Personal message to Lilyana Briarwood)<br />
|Content=<p><strong>Juste: The Ball of Thorns</strong><br /><br />
<br /><br />
It would be noted during their stroll together that Juste makes no attempts to touch Lilyana any more than with the arm he offers her. Despite his smirk as their actions make her father irate, the young knight was a proper gentleman.<br /><br />
<br /><br />
"Oh, I do find it curious." He answers her from where he stands as she invites him to sit. "Though I'd be a liar if I said I wasn't already used to it myself. Big family, you see."<br /><br />
<br /><br />
He accepts her invitation to sit, a neutral expression across his Visage as it was his turn to volley, "Tread carefully, my dear. A sheltered life is often difficult to study, or even understand. I agree with you on your prospect of our Perdan, as well as our Golden city. Alas, my experiences are not to be so openly discussed. Besides, this night is yours, designed meticulously for you to find your future spouse. We should all be learning so much of our...Mark."<br /><br />
<br /><br />
He grins wide. What an odd thing to say.</p><br />
|Title=Roleplay from Juste Lamphear<br />
|Signature=<p class="titleSignature"><span style="color:#fff">Juste Lamphear</span><br /><span style="color:#cde">Knight of <span class="realm_1">Aix</span></span></p><p class="heraldrySignature"><img src="//battlemaster.org/heraldry/preview.php/swiss-argent-chevron-gules-winged_stag_rampant-azure-icon.svg" /></p>}}<br />
<br />
{{BMMessage<br />
|Width=80<br />
|Type=Roleplay<br />
|Sent=Fri Aug 25, 2023 11:02:30<br />
|Sender=Lilyana Briarwood|Recipients=(Personal message to Juste Lamphear)<br />
|Content=<p><u><strong>Lilyana: The Ball of Thorns</strong></u><br />
<p>Her raised eyebrow caught the moon's shimmer, a glint of playful curiosity that seemed to embrace the night's mystique as a spark of intrigue danced in her deep burgundy eyes. His response, wrapped in the poetry of simplicity, drew a nod of understanding from her—a nod accompanied by a soft, almost wistful sigh that seemed to echo through the garden's hushed expanse.</p><br />
<br />
<p>In the delicate lull that followed, her heart seemed to pick up its pace, its rhythm in harmony with the secrets that fluttered through the night like leaves in the wind. Juste's words—the casual mention of a "mark"—held an echo of danger that resonated within her. It was the resonance of a puzzle piece slipping into place, a piece she couldn't yet decipher. His grin, an almost uncharacteristic display of emotion, raised further questions within her.</p><br />
<br />
<p>"Indeed, thy experiences, indeed thy persona this night seems to me, a dance," she agreed, her voice a gentle cadence that brushed against the night's stillness. Her gaze lingered on him, a timeless moment held within the moon's tender grasp. "A dance of veils and shadows, I can't help but ponder the truth that might lie beneath, but thee may keep thy secrets."</p><br />
<br />
<p>A sigh, as soft as the petals brushing against the breeze, flowed from her lips. "Tonight, is both mine and yet not solely so." She leaned slightly, her arm becoming her pillow as strands of obsidian hair kissed her face. The moonlight painted her face with an otherworldly glow as she looked at Juste. "In the tapestry spun by my father's design, this night is meant for me to find my future spouse, this is truth."</p><br />
<br />
<p>Her gaze, deep and inquisitive, held his own. "But the strands of fate are often manipulated by hands beyond our own. There's something about tonight that transcends my father's narrative."</p><br />
<br />
<p>With a coy smile, her free hand gracefully arced through the moonlit air. "No, Ser Lamphear, tonight isn't solely about me. It's about thee, about our fellow higher nobility."</p><br />
<br />
<p>Her smile took on a more playful aspect, a hint of some scheme beneath her smile playing at her expression. "The Court of Thorns, my family's legacy bequeathed upon me, is not a realm for the faint-hearted. Those who dare to tread its paths find themselves entangled in a dance of thorns and whispered secrets, with so few who carry with them kind intentions."</p><br />
<br />
<p>A more genuine warmth entered her gaze as she turned her attention to Juste. "I had hoped this night would serve as a mirror, reflecting the hearts and intentions of those who walk these grounds. A chance to glimpse who among our peers might offer something rare to find in this manor, a friend."</p><br />
<br />
<p>With a gentle step closer, the moonlight seemed to deepen the enigma of her presence. "So, pray tell, Ser Juste, as we stand at this crossroad of destiny, would thee make a good friend?" Her gaze locked onto his unmoving as the garden seemed to hold its breath as her question lingered in the air.</p><br />
</p><br />
|Title=Roleplay from Lilyana Briarwood<br />
|Signature=<p class="titleSignature"><span style="color:#fff">Lilyana Briarwood</span><br /><span style="color:#cde">Dame of <span class="realm_1">Aix</span></span></p><p class="heraldrySignature"><img src="//battlemaster.org/heraldry/preview.php/italian-sable-pile-purpure-winged_stag_rampant-argent-icon.svg" /></p>}}<br />
<br />
{{BMMessage<br />
|Width=80<br />
|Type=Roleplay<br />
|Sent=Tue Sep 5, 2023 06:43:00<br />
|Sender=Juste Lamphear|Recipients=(Personal message to Lilyana Briarwood)<br />
|Content=<p><strong>Juste: The Ball of Thorns</strong><br /><br />
<br /><br />
"But of course you may find me as friend." He responds with a touch of haste, as if he were offended at the idea of her needing to ask. Juste reaches a hand over in an attempt to lightly grab one of her own. It was an incredibly bold move for him to make. One with a multitude of implications that Lilyana would need to decipher on her own.<br /><br />
<br /><br />
"My friend, you and I will be working together for the greater good of our Realm. We've entered shoes that many are unfit to wear. And thus it is within best interest for us all to leave this Gala closer to each other. You and I especially."<br /><br />
<br /><br />
His accent was showing, but was still difficult to place. Along with the strange words he used, Juste was riding the fence between nervous foreigner, or esteemed actor.<br /><br />
<br /><br />
"I believe that you will find my, <em>er, </em>reflection to be most tasteful, and perhaps even pleasing to yourself. For I yearn to witness what the future hold with you in it."<br /><br />
<br /><br />
The amount of eye contact that he makes as he speaks tells tales of his Charisma. Was he sweet-talking her? There was no way that he was coming on to her, right?<br /><br />
<br /><br />
Right?</p><br />
|Title=Roleplay from Juste Lamphear<br />
|Signature=<p class="titleSignature"><span style="color:#fff">Juste Lamphear</span><br /><span style="color:#cde">Knight of <span class="realm_1">Aix</span></span></p><p class="heraldrySignature"><img src="//battlemaster.org/heraldry/preview.php/swiss-argent-chevron-gules-winged_stag_rampant-azure-icon.svg" /></p>}}<br />
{{BMMessage<br />
|Width=80<br />
|Type=Roleplay<br />
|Sent=Fri Sep 8, 2023 11:09:38<br />
|Sender=Lilyana Briarwood|Recipients=(Personal message to Juste Lamphear)<br />
|Content=<p><strong>Lilyana: The Ball of Thorns</strong><br />
<p>Juste's swift response seemed to catch her off guard for a fleeting moment. Her deep burgundy eyes flitted to their joined hands, a subtle smile curving her lips. She listened, her gaze now focused on him, as he spoke of the rarity of friendship among nobility.</p><br />
<br />
<p>"That is a good thing to hear," she murmured, her voice like a gentle breeze brushing against his words. "There are so few friends among the ranks of nobility. I'm honoured to count thee as one of mine."</p><br />
<br />
<p>A mischievous glint danced in her eyes as she leaned closer to him, a proximity that might have been considered unconventional in noble circles. Her words, laced with a cryptic allure, hung in the air. "Thee are a most pleasing reflection indeed; have no fear there, my friend."</p><br />
<br />
<p>Lilyana held his gaze, her eyes like pools of burgundy intrigue. In that shared moment, it was as though the night itself held its breath, secrets untold hanging in the balance. "I have met few people that I couldn't read; thee art one," she confessed softly, her voice a velvet whisper. "As thee yearn to see what the future holds for me, so too do I wonder."</p><br />
<br />
<p>She lowered her voice to a near-whisper, a conspiratorial intimacy that seemed to draw her closer. "...how our destinies shall <em>entwine </em>in this unfolding narrative."</p><br />
<br />
<p>With a graceful withdrawal, she leaned back, her fingers deftly plucking a small silver bell from the table. The chime of the bell resonated in the night's stillness, a subtle melody that seemed to echo through the garden's enchanting silence.</p><br />
<br />
<p>"Refreshments?" she inquired, her voice returning to its soothing cadence. "I did promise thee something to quench thy thirst."</p><br />
</p><br />
|Title=Roleplay from Lilyana Briarwood<br />
|Signature=<p class="titleSignature"><span style="color:#fff">Lilyana Briarwood</span><br /><span style="color:#cde">Dame of <span class="realm_1">Aix</span></span></p><p class="heraldrySignature"><img src="//battlemaster.org/heraldry/preview.php/italian-sable-pile-purpure-winged_stag_rampant-argent-icon.svg" /></p>}}</div>Marcus Daubenyhttps://wiki.battlemaster.org/index.php?title=Briarwood_Family/Liliyana/The_Ball_of_Thorns&diff=218376Briarwood Family/Liliyana/The Ball of Thorns2023-08-25T15:02:58Z<p>Marcus Daubeny: </p>
<hr />
<div>[[/Meanwhile/]]<br />
<br />
{{BMMessage<br />
|Width=80<br />
|Type=Roleplay<br />
|Sent=Sun Aug 20, 2023 14:55:25<br />
|Sender=Lilyana Briarwood|Recipients=Message sent to all nobles of Perdan (18 recipients)<br />
|Content=<p><u><strong>Lilyana: The Ball of Thorns</strong></u></p><br />
<br />
<p>In the soft glow of the moonlight, Lilyana Briarwood stood regally at the entrance to her family mansion. The delicate beams filtered through the overgrown garden, casting ethereal shadows that danced upon the walls of the small, purple-hued mansion. Its exterior, adorned with thorny vines that had long lost their vibrancy, seemed to meld with the night, creating an air of both elegance and eerie mystery.</p><br />
<br />
<p>She wore a wispy black dress that flowed around her curvaceous figure like wisps of smoke. Lilyana's midnight black hair cascaded down her shoulders, and her burgundy eyes held an eerie depth that shimmered in the moonlight. Her presence exuded a captivating charm that seemed to beckon the moonlight to her side.</p><br />
<br />
<p>With a serene exhale, she smoothed out the few crinkles in her dress and straightened her posture. Tonight, a grand ball was to take place within these walls, a gathering of the elite and the powerful. Lilyana's gaze turned wistful as she contemplated her missing younger brother, Malachi. She hoped he was safe, somewhere far from harm's reach.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Her introspection was broken by the authoritative clearing of a throat. A middle-aged man, marked by a salt-and-pepper beard and cold navy blue eyes, approached her. "Are you ready to receive our guests, Daughter?" he inquired, his voice resonating with both command and underlying tension.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Lilyana nodded gracefully, her countenance unwavering. "Yes, Father," she replied, her voice a soft, soothing murmur, "will Mother be joining us?" A subtle note of concern laced her words, a question left hanging in the air.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Her father's gaze narrowed, and his tone turned sombre. "No. Not tonight," he replied tersely. Leaning in, he spoke in hushed tones, a venomous undercurrent tainting his words. "You look the part but do not forget what your duty is. Try not to enjoy yourself too much tonight, <em>Dame Briarwood</em>."</p><br />
<br />
<p>Lilyana's smile remained steadfast as she met her father's gaze. "But of course, <em>Ser Elias Briarwood</em>," she responded with unruffled grace, her words a gentle reminder of her stature and resilience.</p><br />
<br />
<p>With those words, her father walked away, leaving her in the moonlit silence. A sigh escaped her lips, and she turned her attention to the rising moon, a symbol of change and new beginnings. "And so it begins, time to put on a show," she murmured to herself, her voice carrying a sense of purpose.</p><br />
<br />
<p>A clap of her hands brought forth a servant, adorned in a silver elk skull mask, from the shadows. "Ma'am?" the servant inquired.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Lilyana turned to face them, her expression composed and decisive. "Inform the others," she instructed, her voice carrying the weight of her authority, "let the musicians start and have the guests admitted in. It's time."</p><br />
<br />
<p>The servant bowed respectfully and retreated, carrying out Lilyana's orders with quiet efficiency. As the night progressed, guests began to arrive, drawn to the mansion by the enchanting melodies that emanated from within. Lilyana steeled herself, her warm smile in place as she greeted each guest with poise and charm.</p><br />
<br />
<p>The mansion soon echoed with the lively strains of music, its haunting beauty resonating in every corner. Lilyana stood, a figure of elegance and mystery, presiding over the Court of Thorns. As the moonlight continued to wash over her family's mansion, she embraced the role fate had cast upon her, ready to navigate the dance of intrigue and nobility that awaited within the shadows of this most auspicious night.</p><br />
<br />
<p> </p><br />
<br />
<p>(Music I have playing for reference: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pxFS1DFRnrk )</p><br />
<br />
|Title=Roleplay from Lilyana Briarwood<br />
|Signature=}}<br />
{{BMMessage<br />
|Width=80<br />
|Type=Roleplay<br />
|Sent=Tue Aug 22, 2023 09:19:18<br />
|Sender=Juste Lamphear|Recipients=Message sent to all nobles of Perdan (19 recipients)<br />
|Content=<p><strong>Pirouetting Under the Lunar Gaze; The Briarwood Ball</strong>.<br /><br />
<br /><br />
The music was <em>serene.</em> Perfect, even. The ensemble of strings called out into the night like a siren song, entrancing the young knight as he stepped from his buggy.<br /><br />
<br /><br />
"G'luck to ye, laddie, advisor says with a glint in his eye. No chaperone needed; Juste would brave this night alone.<br /><br />
<br /><br />
The night seemed to be Sir Juste's favourite time. While his family colours were white and red, Juste opted for a full black garb with red trimming. His trousers fit tightly and had red pinstripes that tucked away under knee-high leather boots that had cuffs at the tops. He wore a red undershirt with a black vest and coat, both adorned with crimson trimming and the family crest on his back. Ultimately, he wasn't dressed too regal, but enough to pass for a proper guest.<br /><br />
<br /><br />
The young knight's stark hair was let down to flow over his back as he took long, purposeful strides into the moonlit mansion. A knowing grin was plastered over his face as he is finally given the chance to meet with Dame Liliyana for the first time. With the grace of a ln ebony cat, he would reach out for her hand with a bow of his head, offering a kiss to her fingers while greeting her. "Well met, Dame Liliyana. The night is perfect."</p><br />
|Title=Roleplay from Juste Lamphear<br />
|Signature=}}<br />
<br />
{{BMMessage<br />
|Width=80<br />
|Type=Roleplay<br />
|Sent=Tue Aug 22, 2023 11:23:06<br />
|Sender=Lilyana Briarwood|Recipients=Message sent to all nobles of Perdan (19 recipients)<br />
|Content=<p><u><strong>Lilyana: The Ball of Thorns</strong></u></p><br />
<br />
<p>As the guests filed in – a collection of rich merchants and minor nobles of Aix – Lilyana greeted each with a polite and serene smile. Her lips curved gracefully, but her thoughts danced in cryptic patterns as she observed the unimpressive arrivals. These were her father's friends, a network of connections tied through social and financial bonds. Some faces were familiar, acquaintances from the echelons of nobility, and she could already foresee the pattern of the night.</p><br />
<br />
<p>It was a ritual repeated far too often. Her father's companions had brought their sons, suitors preordained by familial aspirations. Lilyana's heart sighed with resignation; once again, she would have to deflect advances that held no genuine interest for her. With a soft exhalation, she prepared herself for the chore of the evening.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Amid the sea of mundane interactions, one figure stood apart. A lone silhouette, purposeful and regal, strode with conviction toward the entrance. His attire spoke of higher nobility, befitting someone of her own stature. Her eyes traced his movements, recognizing the distinction in his bearing even though she was unable to discern his colours or insignia.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Politely, she extricated herself from the clutches of an old soldier turned merchant, Rickard Trask, who was ensnaring her in a web of tedious war stories. With a smile that concealed her distant thoughts, she addressed him, "Perhaps thee can finish thy tale inside, Good Lord. It sounds like one best shared over drinks and one not to be kept to myself. I hear Mr. Astigar has a love for such tales." The old man nodded, grinning, and ambled indoors, leaving Lilyana free to pursue a more captivating conversation.</p><br />
<br />
<p>As the lone figure drew closer, Lilyana's gaze remained locked on him. His presence resonated differently, sparking her curiosity in ways that others couldn't. His steps were deliberate, each one carrying an air of calculated elegance. When he reached her, their eyes met, and her cryptic smile shifted subtly into one of genuine warmth.</p><br />
<br />
<p>The soft rustle of fabric accompanied her movement as she extended her hand. In the pale moonlight, her cheeks took on the faintest hue of blush as he pressed a gentle kiss to her hand. "Greetings and grace upon thee, Ser Juste," she said, her voice a soothing melody wrapped in an eerie cadence. "The night is beautiful, isn't it? But I would not call it perfect. There is much yet to be seen. I am grateful thee came."</p><br />
<br />
<p>His presence, his energy, was a fresh breath of air to the night. She offered him a delicate curtsey, her eyes gleaming with inquisitiveness as she spoke, "Welcome to my home. The Court of Thorns welcomes and embraces thee for this night. May thee enjoy it."</p><br />
<br />
|Title=Roleplay from Lilyana Briarwood<br />
|Signature=}}<br />
{{BMMessage<br />
|Width=80<br />
|Type=Roleplay<br />
|Sent=Tue Aug 22, 2023 16:23:29<br />
|Sender=Juste Lamphear|Recipients=Message sent to all nobles of Perdan (19 recipients)<br />
|Content=<p><u><strong>Juste: The Ball of Thorns</strong></u></p><br />
<br />
<p>Sir Juste was a reserved young man. He was clearly listening to Dame Lilyana as she spoke to him, but his attention was also fixated on everything around him. He was keeping tabs on every exit, every witness, and every alibi as if he were a thief infiltrating a big score. If she was attentive enough, Dame Lilyana might even catch on to his mannerisms. It wouldn't be farfetched for her to wonder if he was prone to paranoia. Regardless of it all, he too had picked up the same patterns she has.</p><br />
<br />
<p><em>This isn't her party.</em> He thinks to himself. <em>It's a party for her, sure. But it's not her party. Looks like I'm the first of the Perdanese martial heads to have arrived. I bet she's itching for an excuse to not be stuck with political agendas and would-be suitors.</em></p><br />
<br />
<p>"I am grateful, Dame Lilyana for the hospitality of yourself and your esteemed family. I look forward to meeting with more of...<em>Our </em>peers as the night goes on. Though I admit that I would be pleased to share wine and conversation with you before you are lost to the...<em>Masses.</em>"</p><br />
<br />
<p>A keen ear would pick up Juste's accent. It was subtle, and sounded as if many years of study went into hiding it. But English was not his native tongue, which was odd for a son of Aix. His voice was gentle, and flowed like the silk that lined the inside of his shoulder cloak. Most people speak with body language that gives them away. A subtle curve of the brow, or flick of their gaze. Hand motions, nodding, or leaning. And while Juste wasn't immune to body language, he was definitely using an incredibly small amount of it, as if the notion of doing so was being kept in check.</p><br />
<br />
<p>How disciplined.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Shameless, however was the attempt for a <em>second</em> kiss to her fingers, to be done while locking eyes with a mid-thirties charlatan that had been watching the two Knights like a hawk. Dame Lilyana would be afforded plenty of time to react, but he was likely to move on soon after.</p><br />
<br />
|Title=Roleplay from Juste Lamphear<br />
|Signature=}}<br />
<br />
{{BMMessage<br />
|Width=80<br />
|Type=Roleplay<br />
|Sent=Wed Aug 23, 2023 04:51:19<br />
|Sender=Lilyana Briarwood|Recipients=Message sent to all nobles of Perdan (19 recipients)<br />
|Content=<p><strong><u>Lilyana: The Ball of Thorns</u></strong></p><br />
<br />
<p>Lilyana's eyes shimmered with intrigue as Juste remained in her gaze. His guarded demeanour, the way his eyes scanned the estate's entrance, it all danced with a hint of caution. She sensed more than met the eye, a man cautious not of thievery but of something deeper, something concealed. Her lips curved in a quiet acknowledgment of his vigilance, a touch of amusement hiding behind the cryptic veneer of her expression.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Observing him, she contemplated his mannerisms, the restrained way he moved, and the economy of his gestures. This knight of the realm, he held himself back. There was a story behind his eyes, one she intended to uncover.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Recognition flickered in Juste's gaze as he thanked her for the hospitality. His choice of words caught her attention—a subtle emphasis on "our peers" and the idea of her being "lost to the masses." Lilyana perceived the emphasis and felt the weight behind them. He knew, she realized, he understood the role her father had assigned to her this evening. The unspoken words echoed between them, a shared understanding of the orchestrated charade. Ever a connoisseur of nuances, Lilyana detected a soft accent that flavoured his speech. A second language, spoken with mastery yet revealing glimpses of his origins. Another layer to unravel in due time.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Her response was a delicate smile, a subtle nod acknowledging his words. "Indeed, sharing conversation and wine with a fellow knight of Aix would be an honour," she said, her voice a whispered melody. "But to desert the entrance with the absence of my presence? <em>Unthinkable</em>. Who else would extend greetings to our <em>esteemed </em>guests?" A delicate finger tapped her chin in a thoughtful gesture, and a plan took shape behind her eyes.</p><br />
<br />
<p>"Would thee perhaps grace me with thy company through the gardens?" she proposed her voice a soft invitation. "There is a small patio nearby from where we could see the entrance. A place less congested, where conversations may flow freely, no?"</p><br />
<br />
<p>As if in response, her gaze shifted momentarily, meeting her father's frigid stare from across the hall. His disapproval was palpable, the icy daggers he cast her way an unspoken warning. A challenge glinted in Lilyana's eyes, silent defiance directed at the man who sought to control her.</p><br />
<br />
<p>A kiss upon her hand brought her back to the present, Juste's eyes a shield against an impertinent gaze. Her cheeks flushed, a delicate pink tinging her skin, as she smiled anew. "Shameless, Ser Juste. An interesting move," she remarked, her tone a velvet murmur.</p><br />
<br />
<p>With a graceful inclination of her head, she gestured toward the gardens, a realm veiled in the moonlight. "Shall we? Or does the heart of the mansion hold greater allure?" Her gaze sparkled with curiosity.</p><br />
<br />
|Title=Roleplay from Lilyana Briarwood<br />
|Signature=}}<br />
{{BMMessage<br />
|Width=80<br />
|Type=Roleplay<br />
|Sent=Thu Aug 24, 2023 09:16:12<br />
|Sender=Juste Lamphear|Recipients=Message sent to all nobles of Perdan (20 recipients)<br />
|Content=<p><strong>Juste: The Briarwood Ball</strong><br /><br />
<br /><br />
A careful gaze is cast in the direction of Dame Lilyana's presumed father. Donald <em>did</em> tell Juste about the man, but at the same time, it was also information from Donald. You would need more than a pinch of salt when listening to his opinions.<br /><br />
<br /><br />
"Denying your invitation would be folly, Dame Lilyana. The night is still in its infancy. There's yet plenty of time left for me to ignore everyone else here. For I do not recall seeing their signatures on the invitation."<br /><br />
<br /><br />
Sir Juste somehow managed to straight his posture even more than it already was as he presents his arm to to his fellow Knight. And while he wasn't trying to make things too obvious, it would likely be clear to Lilyana that Juste was poking the bear. Seems like inciting the ire of her father was a game to him.<br /><br />
<br /><br />
Other things for Lilyana to take note of in regards to Juste was the fact that he was still yet young. Though despite his age, he presented himself with the etiquette and mannerisms of someone who was well practiced. Most men his age, even some of nobility would be cocky, especially with being a newly appointed Knight, but not Juste. He was careful and meticulous, almost like he was under some sort of spell.<br /><br />
<br /><br />
While they walked, he would start the volley by requesting, "Tell me about your experiences thus far, is it at all like what you expected?"</p><br />
|Title=Roleplay from Juste Lamphear<br />
|Signature=}}<br />
<br />
{{BMMessage<br />
|Width=80<br />
|Type=Roleplay<br />
|Sent=Fri Aug 25, 2023 06:28:48<br />
|Sender=Lilyana Briarwood|Recipients=(Personal message to Juste Lamphear)<br />
|Content=<p>Lilyana: The Ball of Thorns<br />
<p>Lilyana's smile, warm as the moon's glow, held a mischievous glint in her burgundy eyes as she turned her attention to Juste. With a movement that was both inviting and daring, she leaned slightly into him, her arm entwining with his, as if she reveled in the disturbance they had ignited within her father's carefully orchestrated evening.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Their connection seemed to provoke a crack in the veneer of her father's composure; Lilyana could have sworn she heard the chime of a shattering wine glass, a sound that blended harmoniously with her laughter.</p><br />
<br />
<p>"Ser Juste, isn't it curious? How many have come uninvited to an occasion where the few are expected," she mused cryptically, her voice like the soft rustle of leaves. </p><br />
<br />
<p>Together, they strolled into the heart of the moonlit gardens, a labyrinth of shadows and secrets. Her gaze flitted toward Juste, observing the refined poise that set him apart from the knights she often crossed paths with. There was an aura of enchantment surrounding him, as if he were ensnared by a spell, a sensation Lilyana knew intimately.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Juste's inquiry dipped into that of her experiences, drawing her musings to the surface. Her response was wrapped in layers of cryptic candour, her words like riddles threaded with a soft sense of confidence. "In some aspects, yes, it was what I expected," she replied, her voice like the sigh of a breeze. "The realm at times hushed, like the breath held before a storm. And yet, their tapestry is woven with threads of distant tales and subtle politics, adding flavour and colour to the tapestry."</p><br />
<br />
<p>Her gaze lingered on him, the moonlight reflecting in her burgundy eyes. "Combat, too, has graced my path. The cleansing of Clermont, a dance with dangerous beasts. My Heartseekers, once a battalion of forty, found themselves facing loss, yet my brother and I reaped the beasts' final breaths."</p><br />
<br />
<p>She lowered herself gracefully onto a stone seat on a secluded patio, and her eyes locked onto Juste's as she continued, "Yet Aix, the birthplace of my youth, has painted a spectrum of experiences. An enchanting city, isn't it? Its secrets whispered through cobblestone streets."</p><br />
<br />
<p>With a grace that seemed innate, she motioned for him to join her. "And what of thee, Ser Juste? What pages has life penned in thy story? What melodies dance within thy memories?"</p><br />
</p><br />
|Title=Roleplay from Lilyana Briarwood<br />
|Signature=<p class="titleSignature"><span style="color:#fff">Lilyana Briarwood</span><br /><span style="color:#cde">Dame of <span class="realm_1">Aix</span></span></p><p class="heraldrySignature"><img src="//battlemaster.org/heraldry/preview.php/italian-sable-pile-purpure-winged_stag_rampant-argent-icon.svg" /></p>}}<br />
<br />
{{BMMessage<br />
|Width=80<br />
|Type=Roleplay<br />
|Sent=Fri Aug 25, 2023 09:17:04<br />
|Sender=Juste Lamphear|Recipients=(Personal message to Lilyana Briarwood)<br />
|Content=<p><strong>Juste: The Ball of Thorns</strong><br /><br />
<br /><br />
It would be noted during their stroll together that Juste makes no attempts to touch Lilyana any more than with the arm he offers her. Despite his smirk as their actions make her father irate, the young knight was a proper gentleman.<br /><br />
<br /><br />
"Oh, I do find it curious." He answers her from where he stands as she invites him to sit. "Though I'd be a liar if I said I wasn't already used to it myself. Big family, you see."<br /><br />
<br /><br />
He accepts her invitation to sit, a neutral expression across his Visage as it was his turn to volley, "Tread carefully, my dear. A sheltered life is often difficult to study, or even understand. I agree with you on your prospect of our Perdan, as well as our Golden city. Alas, my experiences are not to be so openly discussed. Besides, this night is yours, designed meticulously for you to find your future spouse. We should all be learning so much of our...Mark."<br /><br />
<br /><br />
He grins wide. What an odd thing to say.</p><br />
|Title=Roleplay from Juste Lamphear<br />
|Signature=<p class="titleSignature"><span style="color:#fff">Juste Lamphear</span><br /><span style="color:#cde">Knight of <span class="realm_1">Aix</span></span></p><p class="heraldrySignature"><img src="//battlemaster.org/heraldry/preview.php/swiss-argent-chevron-gules-winged_stag_rampant-azure-icon.svg" /></p>}}<br />
<br />
{{BMMessage<br />
|Width=80<br />
|Type=Roleplay<br />
|Sent=Fri Aug 25, 2023 11:02:30<br />
|Sender=Lilyana Briarwood|Recipients=(Personal message to Juste Lamphear)<br />
|Content=<p><u><strong>Lilyana: The Ball of Thorns</strong></u><br />
<p>Her raised eyebrow caught the moon's shimmer, a glint of playful curiosity that seemed to embrace the night's mystique as a spark of intrigue danced in her deep burgundy eyes. His response, wrapped in the poetry of simplicity, drew a nod of understanding from her—a nod accompanied by a soft, almost wistful sigh that seemed to echo through the garden's hushed expanse.</p><br />
<br />
<p>In the delicate lull that followed, her heart seemed to pick up its pace, its rhythm in harmony with the secrets that fluttered through the night like leaves in the wind. Juste's words—the casual mention of a "mark"—held an echo of danger that resonated within her. It was the resonance of a puzzle piece slipping into place, a piece she couldn't yet decipher. His grin, an almost uncharacteristic display of emotion, raised further questions within her.</p><br />
<br />
<p>"Indeed, thy experiences, indeed thy persona this night seems to me, a dance," she agreed, her voice a gentle cadence that brushed against the night's stillness. Her gaze lingered on him, a timeless moment held within the moon's tender grasp. "A dance of veils and shadows, I can't help but ponder the truth that might lie beneath, but thee may keep thy secrets."</p><br />
<br />
<p>A sigh, as soft as the petals brushing against the breeze, flowed from her lips. "Tonight, is both mine and yet not solely so." She leaned slightly, her arm becoming her pillow as strands of obsidian hair kissed her face. The moonlight painted her face with an otherworldly glow as she looked at Juste. "In the tapestry spun by my father's design, this night is meant for me to find my future spouse, this is truth."</p><br />
<br />
<p>Her gaze, deep and inquisitive, held his own. "But the strands of fate are often manipulated by hands beyond our own. There's something about tonight that transcends my father's narrative."</p><br />
<br />
<p>With a coy smile, her free hand gracefully arced through the moonlit air. "No, Ser Lamphear, tonight isn't solely about me. It's about thee, about our fellow higher nobility."</p><br />
<br />
<p>Her smile took on a more playful aspect, a hint of some scheme beneath her smile playing at her expression. "The Court of Thorns, my family's legacy bequeathed upon me, is not a realm for the faint-hearted. Those who dare to tread its paths find themselves entangled in a dance of thorns and whispered secrets, with so few who carry with them kind intentions."</p><br />
<br />
<p>A more genuine warmth entered her gaze as she turned her attention to Juste. "I had hoped this night would serve as a mirror, reflecting the hearts and intentions of those who walk these grounds. A chance to glimpse who among our peers might offer something rare to find in this manor, a friend."</p><br />
<br />
<p>With a gentle step closer, the moonlight seemed to deepen the enigma of her presence. "So, pray tell, Ser Juste, as we stand at this crossroad of destiny, would thee make a good friend?" Her gaze locked onto his unmoving as the garden seemed to hold its breath as her question lingered in the air.</p><br />
</p><br />
|Title=Roleplay from Lilyana Briarwood<br />
|Signature=<p class="titleSignature"><span style="color:#fff">Lilyana Briarwood</span><br /><span style="color:#cde">Dame of <span class="realm_1">Aix</span></span></p><p class="heraldrySignature"><img src="//battlemaster.org/heraldry/preview.php/italian-sable-pile-purpure-winged_stag_rampant-argent-icon.svg" /></p>}}</div>Marcus Daubenyhttps://wiki.battlemaster.org/index.php?title=Briarwood_Family/Liliyana/The_Ball_of_Thorns&diff=218375Briarwood Family/Liliyana/The Ball of Thorns2023-08-25T14:40:16Z<p>Marcus Daubeny: </p>
<hr />
<div>[[/Meanwhile/]]<br />
<br />
{{BMMessage<br />
|Width=80<br />
|Type=Roleplay<br />
|Sent=Sun Aug 20, 2023 14:55:25<br />
|Sender=Lilyana Briarwood|Recipients=Message sent to all nobles of Perdan (18 recipients)<br />
|Content=<p><u><strong>Lilyana: The Ball of Thorns</strong></u></p><br />
<br />
<p>In the soft glow of the moonlight, Lilyana Briarwood stood regally at the entrance to her family mansion. The delicate beams filtered through the overgrown garden, casting ethereal shadows that danced upon the walls of the small, purple-hued mansion. Its exterior, adorned with thorny vines that had long lost their vibrancy, seemed to meld with the night, creating an air of both elegance and eerie mystery.</p><br />
<br />
<p>She wore a wispy black dress that flowed around her curvaceous figure like wisps of smoke. Lilyana's midnight black hair cascaded down her shoulders, and her burgundy eyes held an eerie depth that shimmered in the moonlight. Her presence exuded a captivating charm that seemed to beckon the moonlight to her side.</p><br />
<br />
<p>With a serene exhale, she smoothed out the few crinkles in her dress and straightened her posture. Tonight, a grand ball was to take place within these walls, a gathering of the elite and the powerful. Lilyana's gaze turned wistful as she contemplated her missing younger brother, Malachi. She hoped he was safe, somewhere far from harm's reach.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Her introspection was broken by the authoritative clearing of a throat. A middle-aged man, marked by a salt-and-pepper beard and cold navy blue eyes, approached her. "Are you ready to receive our guests, Daughter?" he inquired, his voice resonating with both command and underlying tension.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Lilyana nodded gracefully, her countenance unwavering. "Yes, Father," she replied, her voice a soft, soothing murmur, "will Mother be joining us?" A subtle note of concern laced her words, a question left hanging in the air.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Her father's gaze narrowed, and his tone turned sombre. "No. Not tonight," he replied tersely. Leaning in, he spoke in hushed tones, a venomous undercurrent tainting his words. "You look the part but do not forget what your duty is. Try not to enjoy yourself too much tonight, <em>Dame Briarwood</em>."</p><br />
<br />
<p>Lilyana's smile remained steadfast as she met her father's gaze. "But of course, <em>Ser Elias Briarwood</em>," she responded with unruffled grace, her words a gentle reminder of her stature and resilience.</p><br />
<br />
<p>With those words, her father walked away, leaving her in the moonlit silence. A sigh escaped her lips, and she turned her attention to the rising moon, a symbol of change and new beginnings. "And so it begins, time to put on a show," she murmured to herself, her voice carrying a sense of purpose.</p><br />
<br />
<p>A clap of her hands brought forth a servant, adorned in a silver elk skull mask, from the shadows. "Ma'am?" the servant inquired.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Lilyana turned to face them, her expression composed and decisive. "Inform the others," she instructed, her voice carrying the weight of her authority, "let the musicians start and have the guests admitted in. It's time."</p><br />
<br />
<p>The servant bowed respectfully and retreated, carrying out Lilyana's orders with quiet efficiency. As the night progressed, guests began to arrive, drawn to the mansion by the enchanting melodies that emanated from within. Lilyana steeled herself, her warm smile in place as she greeted each guest with poise and charm.</p><br />
<br />
<p>The mansion soon echoed with the lively strains of music, its haunting beauty resonating in every corner. Lilyana stood, a figure of elegance and mystery, presiding over the Court of Thorns. As the moonlight continued to wash over her family's mansion, she embraced the role fate had cast upon her, ready to navigate the dance of intrigue and nobility that awaited within the shadows of this most auspicious night.</p><br />
<br />
<p> </p><br />
<br />
<p>(Music I have playing for reference: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pxFS1DFRnrk )</p><br />
<br />
|Title=Roleplay from Lilyana Briarwood<br />
|Signature=}}<br />
{{BMMessage<br />
|Width=80<br />
|Type=Roleplay<br />
|Sent=Tue Aug 22, 2023 09:19:18<br />
|Sender=Juste Lamphear|Recipients=Message sent to all nobles of Perdan (19 recipients)<br />
|Content=<p><strong>Pirouetting Under the Lunar Gaze; The Briarwood Ball</strong>.<br /><br />
<br /><br />
The music was <em>serene.</em> Perfect, even. The ensemble of strings called out into the night like a siren song, entrancing the young knight as he stepped from his buggy.<br /><br />
<br /><br />
"G'luck to ye, laddie, advisor says with a glint in his eye. No chaperone needed; Juste would brave this night alone.<br /><br />
<br /><br />
The night seemed to be Sir Juste's favourite time. While his family colours were white and red, Juste opted for a full black garb with red trimming. His trousers fit tightly and had red pinstripes that tucked away under knee-high leather boots that had cuffs at the tops. He wore a red undershirt with a black vest and coat, both adorned with crimson trimming and the family crest on his back. Ultimately, he wasn't dressed too regal, but enough to pass for a proper guest.<br /><br />
<br /><br />
The young knight's stark hair was let down to flow over his back as he took long, purposeful strides into the moonlit mansion. A knowing grin was plastered over his face as he is finally given the chance to meet with Dame Liliyana for the first time. With the grace of a ln ebony cat, he would reach out for her hand with a bow of his head, offering a kiss to her fingers while greeting her. "Well met, Dame Liliyana. The night is perfect."</p><br />
|Title=Roleplay from Juste Lamphear<br />
|Signature=}}<br />
<br />
{{BMMessage<br />
|Width=80<br />
|Type=Roleplay<br />
|Sent=Tue Aug 22, 2023 11:23:06<br />
|Sender=Lilyana Briarwood|Recipients=Message sent to all nobles of Perdan (19 recipients)<br />
|Content=<p><u><strong>Lilyana: The Ball of Thorns</strong></u></p><br />
<br />
<p>As the guests filed in – a collection of rich merchants and minor nobles of Aix – Lilyana greeted each with a polite and serene smile. Her lips curved gracefully, but her thoughts danced in cryptic patterns as she observed the unimpressive arrivals. These were her father's friends, a network of connections tied through social and financial bonds. Some faces were familiar, acquaintances from the echelons of nobility, and she could already foresee the pattern of the night.</p><br />
<br />
<p>It was a ritual repeated far too often. Her father's companions had brought their sons, suitors preordained by familial aspirations. Lilyana's heart sighed with resignation; once again, she would have to deflect advances that held no genuine interest for her. With a soft exhalation, she prepared herself for the chore of the evening.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Amid the sea of mundane interactions, one figure stood apart. A lone silhouette, purposeful and regal, strode with conviction toward the entrance. His attire spoke of higher nobility, befitting someone of her own stature. Her eyes traced his movements, recognizing the distinction in his bearing even though she was unable to discern his colours or insignia.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Politely, she extricated herself from the clutches of an old soldier turned merchant, Rickard Trask, who was ensnaring her in a web of tedious war stories. With a smile that concealed her distant thoughts, she addressed him, "Perhaps thee can finish thy tale inside, Good Lord. It sounds like one best shared over drinks and one not to be kept to myself. I hear Mr. Astigar has a love for such tales." The old man nodded, grinning, and ambled indoors, leaving Lilyana free to pursue a more captivating conversation.</p><br />
<br />
<p>As the lone figure drew closer, Lilyana's gaze remained locked on him. His presence resonated differently, sparking her curiosity in ways that others couldn't. His steps were deliberate, each one carrying an air of calculated elegance. When he reached her, their eyes met, and her cryptic smile shifted subtly into one of genuine warmth.</p><br />
<br />
<p>The soft rustle of fabric accompanied her movement as she extended her hand. In the pale moonlight, her cheeks took on the faintest hue of blush as he pressed a gentle kiss to her hand. "Greetings and grace upon thee, Ser Juste," she said, her voice a soothing melody wrapped in an eerie cadence. "The night is beautiful, isn't it? But I would not call it perfect. There is much yet to be seen. I am grateful thee came."</p><br />
<br />
<p>His presence, his energy, was a fresh breath of air to the night. She offered him a delicate curtsey, her eyes gleaming with inquisitiveness as she spoke, "Welcome to my home. The Court of Thorns welcomes and embraces thee for this night. May thee enjoy it."</p><br />
<br />
|Title=Roleplay from Lilyana Briarwood<br />
|Signature=}}<br />
{{BMMessage<br />
|Width=80<br />
|Type=Roleplay<br />
|Sent=Tue Aug 22, 2023 16:23:29<br />
|Sender=Juste Lamphear|Recipients=Message sent to all nobles of Perdan (19 recipients)<br />
|Content=<p><u><strong>Juste: The Ball of Thorns</strong></u></p><br />
<br />
<p>Sir Juste was a reserved young man. He was clearly listening to Dame Lilyana as she spoke to him, but his attention was also fixated on everything around him. He was keeping tabs on every exit, every witness, and every alibi as if he were a thief infiltrating a big score. If she was attentive enough, Dame Lilyana might even catch on to his mannerisms. It wouldn't be farfetched for her to wonder if he was prone to paranoia. Regardless of it all, he too had picked up the same patterns she has.</p><br />
<br />
<p><em>This isn't her party.</em> He thinks to himself. <em>It's a party for her, sure. But it's not her party. Looks like I'm the first of the Perdanese martial heads to have arrived. I bet she's itching for an excuse to not be stuck with political agendas and would-be suitors.</em></p><br />
<br />
<p>"I am grateful, Dame Lilyana for the hospitality of yourself and your esteemed family. I look forward to meeting with more of...<em>Our </em>peers as the night goes on. Though I admit that I would be pleased to share wine and conversation with you before you are lost to the...<em>Masses.</em>"</p><br />
<br />
<p>A keen ear would pick up Juste's accent. It was subtle, and sounded as if many years of study went into hiding it. But English was not his native tongue, which was odd for a son of Aix. His voice was gentle, and flowed like the silk that lined the inside of his shoulder cloak. Most people speak with body language that gives them away. A subtle curve of the brow, or flick of their gaze. Hand motions, nodding, or leaning. And while Juste wasn't immune to body language, he was definitely using an incredibly small amount of it, as if the notion of doing so was being kept in check.</p><br />
<br />
<p>How disciplined.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Shameless, however was the attempt for a <em>second</em> kiss to her fingers, to be done while locking eyes with a mid-thirties charlatan that had been watching the two Knights like a hawk. Dame Lilyana would be afforded plenty of time to react, but he was likely to move on soon after.</p><br />
<br />
|Title=Roleplay from Juste Lamphear<br />
|Signature=}}<br />
<br />
{{BMMessage<br />
|Width=80<br />
|Type=Roleplay<br />
|Sent=Wed Aug 23, 2023 04:51:19<br />
|Sender=Lilyana Briarwood|Recipients=Message sent to all nobles of Perdan (19 recipients)<br />
|Content=<p><strong><u>Lilyana: The Ball of Thorns</u></strong></p><br />
<br />
<p>Lilyana's eyes shimmered with intrigue as Juste remained in her gaze. His guarded demeanour, the way his eyes scanned the estate's entrance, it all danced with a hint of caution. She sensed more than met the eye, a man cautious not of thievery but of something deeper, something concealed. Her lips curved in a quiet acknowledgment of his vigilance, a touch of amusement hiding behind the cryptic veneer of her expression.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Observing him, she contemplated his mannerisms, the restrained way he moved, and the economy of his gestures. This knight of the realm, he held himself back. There was a story behind his eyes, one she intended to uncover.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Recognition flickered in Juste's gaze as he thanked her for the hospitality. His choice of words caught her attention—a subtle emphasis on "our peers" and the idea of her being "lost to the masses." Lilyana perceived the emphasis and felt the weight behind them. He knew, she realized, he understood the role her father had assigned to her this evening. The unspoken words echoed between them, a shared understanding of the orchestrated charade. Ever a connoisseur of nuances, Lilyana detected a soft accent that flavoured his speech. A second language, spoken with mastery yet revealing glimpses of his origins. Another layer to unravel in due time.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Her response was a delicate smile, a subtle nod acknowledging his words. "Indeed, sharing conversation and wine with a fellow knight of Aix would be an honour," she said, her voice a whispered melody. "But to desert the entrance with the absence of my presence? <em>Unthinkable</em>. Who else would extend greetings to our <em>esteemed </em>guests?" A delicate finger tapped her chin in a thoughtful gesture, and a plan took shape behind her eyes.</p><br />
<br />
<p>"Would thee perhaps grace me with thy company through the gardens?" she proposed her voice a soft invitation. "There is a small patio nearby from where we could see the entrance. A place less congested, where conversations may flow freely, no?"</p><br />
<br />
<p>As if in response, her gaze shifted momentarily, meeting her father's frigid stare from across the hall. His disapproval was palpable, the icy daggers he cast her way an unspoken warning. A challenge glinted in Lilyana's eyes, silent defiance directed at the man who sought to control her.</p><br />
<br />
<p>A kiss upon her hand brought her back to the present, Juste's eyes a shield against an impertinent gaze. Her cheeks flushed, a delicate pink tinging her skin, as she smiled anew. "Shameless, Ser Juste. An interesting move," she remarked, her tone a velvet murmur.</p><br />
<br />
<p>With a graceful inclination of her head, she gestured toward the gardens, a realm veiled in the moonlight. "Shall we? Or does the heart of the mansion hold greater allure?" Her gaze sparkled with curiosity.</p><br />
<br />
|Title=Roleplay from Lilyana Briarwood<br />
|Signature=}}<br />
{{BMMessage<br />
|Width=80<br />
|Type=Roleplay<br />
|Sent=Thu Aug 24, 2023 09:16:12<br />
|Sender=Juste Lamphear|Recipients=Message sent to all nobles of Perdan (20 recipients)<br />
|Content=<p><strong>Juste: The Briarwood Ball</strong><br /><br />
<br /><br />
A careful gaze is cast in the direction of Dame Lilyana's presumed father. Donald <em>did</em> tell Juste about the man, but at the same time, it was also information from Donald. You would need more than a pinch of salt when listening to his opinions.<br /><br />
<br /><br />
"Denying your invitation would be folly, Dame Lilyana. The night is still in its infancy. There's yet plenty of time left for me to ignore everyone else here. For I do not recall seeing their signatures on the invitation."<br /><br />
<br /><br />
Sir Juste somehow managed to straight his posture even more than it already was as he presents his arm to to his fellow Knight. And while he wasn't trying to make things too obvious, it would likely be clear to Lilyana that Juste was poking the bear. Seems like inciting the ire of her father was a game to him.<br /><br />
<br /><br />
Other things for Lilyana to take note of in regards to Juste was the fact that he was still yet young. Though despite his age, he presented himself with the etiquette and mannerisms of someone who was well practiced. Most men his age, even some of nobility would be cocky, especially with being a newly appointed Knight, but not Juste. He was careful and meticulous, almost like he was under some sort of spell.<br /><br />
<br /><br />
While they walked, he would start the volley by requesting, "Tell me about your experiences thus far, is it at all like what you expected?"</p><br />
|Title=Roleplay from Juste Lamphear<br />
|Signature=}}<br />
<br />
{{BMMessage<br />
|Width=80<br />
|Type=Roleplay<br />
|Sent=Fri Aug 25, 2023 06:28:48<br />
|Sender=Lilyana Briarwood|Recipients=(Personal message to Juste Lamphear)<br />
|Content=<p>Lilyana: The Ball of Thorns<br />
<p>Lilyana's smile, warm as the moon's glow, held a mischievous glint in her burgundy eyes as she turned her attention to Juste. With a movement that was both inviting and daring, she leaned slightly into him, her arm entwining with his, as if she reveled in the disturbance they had ignited within her father's carefully orchestrated evening.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Their connection seemed to provoke a crack in the veneer of her father's composure; Lilyana could have sworn she heard the chime of a shattering wine glass, a sound that blended harmoniously with her laughter.</p><br />
<br />
<p>"Ser Juste, isn't it curious? How many have come uninvited to an occasion where the few are expected," she mused cryptically, her voice like the soft rustle of leaves. </p><br />
<br />
<p>Together, they strolled into the heart of the moonlit gardens, a labyrinth of shadows and secrets. Her gaze flitted toward Juste, observing the refined poise that set him apart from the knights she often crossed paths with. There was an aura of enchantment surrounding him, as if he were ensnared by a spell, a sensation Lilyana knew intimately.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Juste's inquiry dipped into that of her experiences, drawing her musings to the surface. Her response was wrapped in layers of cryptic candour, her words like riddles threaded with a soft sense of confidence. "In some aspects, yes, it was what I expected," she replied, her voice like the sigh of a breeze. "The realm at times hushed, like the breath held before a storm. And yet, their tapestry is woven with threads of distant tales and subtle politics, adding flavour and colour to the tapestry."</p><br />
<br />
<p>Her gaze lingered on him, the moonlight reflecting in her burgundy eyes. "Combat, too, has graced my path. The cleansing of Clermont, a dance with dangerous beasts. My Heartseekers, once a battalion of forty, found themselves facing loss, yet my brother and I reaped the beasts' final breaths."</p><br />
<br />
<p>She lowered herself gracefully onto a stone seat on a secluded patio, and her eyes locked onto Juste's as she continued, "Yet Aix, the birthplace of my youth, has painted a spectrum of experiences. An enchanting city, isn't it? Its secrets whispered through cobblestone streets."</p><br />
<br />
<p>With a grace that seemed innate, she motioned for him to join her. "And what of thee, Ser Juste? What pages has life penned in thy story? What melodies dance within thy memories?"</p><br />
</p><br />
|Title=Roleplay from Lilyana Briarwood<br />
|Signature=<p class="titleSignature"><span style="color:#fff">Lilyana Briarwood</span><br /><span style="color:#cde">Dame of <span class="realm_1">Aix</span></span></p><p class="heraldrySignature"><img src="//battlemaster.org/heraldry/preview.php/italian-sable-pile-purpure-winged_stag_rampant-argent-icon.svg" /></p>}}<br />
<br />
{{BMMessage<br />
|Width=80<br />
|Type=Roleplay<br />
|Sent=Fri Aug 25, 2023 09:17:04<br />
|Sender=Juste Lamphear|Recipients=(Personal message to Lilyana Briarwood)<br />
|Content=<p><strong>Juste: The Ball of Thorns</strong><br /><br />
<br /><br />
It would be noted during their stroll together that Juste makes no attempts to touch Lilyana any more than with the arm he offers her. Despite his smirk as their actions make her father irate, the young knight was a proper gentleman.<br /><br />
<br /><br />
"Oh, I do find it curious." He answers her from where he stands as she invites him to sit. "Though I'd be a liar if I said I wasn't already used to it myself. Big family, you see."<br /><br />
<br /><br />
He accepts her invitation to sit, a neutral expression across his Visage as it was his turn to volley, "Tread carefully, my dear. A sheltered life is often difficult to study, or even understand. I agree with you on your prospect of our Perdan, as well as our Golden city. Alas, my experiences are not to be so openly discussed. Besides, this night is yours, designed meticulously for you to find your future spouse. We should all be learning so much of our...Mark."<br /><br />
<br /><br />
He grins wide. What an odd thing to say.</p><br />
|Title=Roleplay from Juste Lamphear<br />
|Signature=<p class="titleSignature"><span style="color:#fff">Juste Lamphear</span><br /><span style="color:#cde">Knight of <span class="realm_1">Aix</span></span></p><p class="heraldrySignature"><img src="//battlemaster.org/heraldry/preview.php/swiss-argent-chevron-gules-winged_stag_rampant-azure-icon.svg" /></p>}}</div>Marcus Daubenyhttps://wiki.battlemaster.org/index.php?title=Briarwood_Family/Liliyana/The_Ball_of_Thorns&diff=218352Briarwood Family/Liliyana/The Ball of Thorns2023-08-25T06:47:38Z<p>Marcus Daubeny: </p>
<hr />
<div>[[/Meanwhile/]]<br />
<br />
{{BMMessage<br />
|Width=80<br />
|Type=Roleplay<br />
|Sent=Sun Aug 20, 2023 14:55:25<br />
|Sender=Lilyana Briarwood|Recipients=Message sent to all nobles of Perdan (18 recipients)<br />
|Content=<p><u><strong>Lilyana: The Ball of Thorns</strong></u></p><br />
<br />
<p>In the soft glow of the moonlight, Lilyana Briarwood stood regally at the entrance to her family mansion. The delicate beams filtered through the overgrown garden, casting ethereal shadows that danced upon the walls of the small, purple-hued mansion. Its exterior, adorned with thorny vines that had long lost their vibrancy, seemed to meld with the night, creating an air of both elegance and eerie mystery.</p><br />
<br />
<p>She wore a wispy black dress that flowed around her curvaceous figure like wisps of smoke. Lilyana's midnight black hair cascaded down her shoulders, and her burgundy eyes held an eerie depth that shimmered in the moonlight. Her presence exuded a captivating charm that seemed to beckon the moonlight to her side.</p><br />
<br />
<p>With a serene exhale, she smoothed out the few crinkles in her dress and straightened her posture. Tonight, a grand ball was to take place within these walls, a gathering of the elite and the powerful. Lilyana's gaze turned wistful as she contemplated her missing younger brother, Malachi. She hoped he was safe, somewhere far from harm's reach.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Her introspection was broken by the authoritative clearing of a throat. A middle-aged man, marked by a salt-and-pepper beard and cold navy blue eyes, approached her. "Are you ready to receive our guests, Daughter?" he inquired, his voice resonating with both command and underlying tension.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Lilyana nodded gracefully, her countenance unwavering. "Yes, Father," she replied, her voice a soft, soothing murmur, "will Mother be joining us?" A subtle note of concern laced her words, a question left hanging in the air.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Her father's gaze narrowed, and his tone turned sombre. "No. Not tonight," he replied tersely. Leaning in, he spoke in hushed tones, a venomous undercurrent tainting his words. "You look the part but do not forget what your duty is. Try not to enjoy yourself too much tonight, <em>Dame Briarwood</em>."</p><br />
<br />
<p>Lilyana's smile remained steadfast as she met her father's gaze. "But of course, <em>Ser Elias Briarwood</em>," she responded with unruffled grace, her words a gentle reminder of her stature and resilience.</p><br />
<br />
<p>With those words, her father walked away, leaving her in the moonlit silence. A sigh escaped her lips, and she turned her attention to the rising moon, a symbol of change and new beginnings. "And so it begins, time to put on a show," she murmured to herself, her voice carrying a sense of purpose.</p><br />
<br />
<p>A clap of her hands brought forth a servant, adorned in a silver elk skull mask, from the shadows. "Ma'am?" the servant inquired.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Lilyana turned to face them, her expression composed and decisive. "Inform the others," she instructed, her voice carrying the weight of her authority, "let the musicians start and have the guests admitted in. It's time."</p><br />
<br />
<p>The servant bowed respectfully and retreated, carrying out Lilyana's orders with quiet efficiency. As the night progressed, guests began to arrive, drawn to the mansion by the enchanting melodies that emanated from within. Lilyana steeled herself, her warm smile in place as she greeted each guest with poise and charm.</p><br />
<br />
<p>The mansion soon echoed with the lively strains of music, its haunting beauty resonating in every corner. Lilyana stood, a figure of elegance and mystery, presiding over the Court of Thorns. As the moonlight continued to wash over her family's mansion, she embraced the role fate had cast upon her, ready to navigate the dance of intrigue and nobility that awaited within the shadows of this most auspicious night.</p><br />
<br />
<p> </p><br />
<br />
<p>(Music I have playing for reference: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pxFS1DFRnrk )</p><br />
<br />
|Title=Roleplay from Lilyana Briarwood<br />
|Signature=}}<br />
{{BMMessage<br />
|Width=80<br />
|Type=Roleplay<br />
|Sent=Tue Aug 22, 2023 09:19:18<br />
|Sender=Juste Lamphear|Recipients=Message sent to all nobles of Perdan (19 recipients)<br />
|Content=<p><strong>Pirouetting Under the Lunar Gaze; The Briarwood Ball</strong>.<br /><br />
<br /><br />
The music was <em>serene.</em> Perfect, even. The ensemble of strings called out into the night like a siren song, entrancing the young knight as he stepped from his buggy.<br /><br />
<br /><br />
"G'luck to ye, laddie, advisor says with a glint in his eye. No chaperone needed; Juste would brave this night alone.<br /><br />
<br /><br />
The night seemed to be Sir Juste's favourite time. While his family colours were white and red, Juste opted for a full black garb with red trimming. His trousers fit tightly and had red pinstripes that tucked away under knee-high leather boots that had cuffs at the tops. He wore a red undershirt with a black vest and coat, both adorned with crimson trimming and the family crest on his back. Ultimately, he wasn't dressed too regal, but enough to pass for a proper guest.<br /><br />
<br /><br />
The young knight's stark hair was let down to flow over his back as he took long, purposeful strides into the moonlit mansion. A knowing grin was plastered over his face as he is finally given the chance to meet with Dame Liliyana for the first time. With the grace of a ln ebony cat, he would reach out for her hand with a bow of his head, offering a kiss to her fingers while greeting her. "Well met, Dame Liliyana. The night is perfect."</p><br />
|Title=Roleplay from Juste Lamphear<br />
|Signature=}}<br />
<br />
{{BMMessage<br />
|Width=80<br />
|Type=Roleplay<br />
|Sent=Tue Aug 22, 2023 11:23:06<br />
|Sender=Lilyana Briarwood|Recipients=Message sent to all nobles of Perdan (19 recipients)<br />
|Content=<p><u><strong>Lilyana: The Ball of Thorns</strong></u></p><br />
<br />
<p>As the guests filed in – a collection of rich merchants and minor nobles of Aix – Lilyana greeted each with a polite and serene smile. Her lips curved gracefully, but her thoughts danced in cryptic patterns as she observed the unimpressive arrivals. These were her father's friends, a network of connections tied through social and financial bonds. Some faces were familiar, acquaintances from the echelons of nobility, and she could already foresee the pattern of the night.</p><br />
<br />
<p>It was a ritual repeated far too often. Her father's companions had brought their sons, suitors preordained by familial aspirations. Lilyana's heart sighed with resignation; once again, she would have to deflect advances that held no genuine interest for her. With a soft exhalation, she prepared herself for the chore of the evening.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Amid the sea of mundane interactions, one figure stood apart. A lone silhouette, purposeful and regal, strode with conviction toward the entrance. His attire spoke of higher nobility, befitting someone of her own stature. Her eyes traced his movements, recognizing the distinction in his bearing even though she was unable to discern his colours or insignia.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Politely, she extricated herself from the clutches of an old soldier turned merchant, Rickard Trask, who was ensnaring her in a web of tedious war stories. With a smile that concealed her distant thoughts, she addressed him, "Perhaps thee can finish thy tale inside, Good Lord. It sounds like one best shared over drinks and one not to be kept to myself. I hear Mr. Astigar has a love for such tales." The old man nodded, grinning, and ambled indoors, leaving Lilyana free to pursue a more captivating conversation.</p><br />
<br />
<p>As the lone figure drew closer, Lilyana's gaze remained locked on him. His presence resonated differently, sparking her curiosity in ways that others couldn't. His steps were deliberate, each one carrying an air of calculated elegance. When he reached her, their eyes met, and her cryptic smile shifted subtly into one of genuine warmth.</p><br />
<br />
<p>The soft rustle of fabric accompanied her movement as she extended her hand. In the pale moonlight, her cheeks took on the faintest hue of blush as he pressed a gentle kiss to her hand. "Greetings and grace upon thee, Ser Juste," she said, her voice a soothing melody wrapped in an eerie cadence. "The night is beautiful, isn't it? But I would not call it perfect. There is much yet to be seen. I am grateful thee came."</p><br />
<br />
<p>His presence, his energy, was a fresh breath of air to the night. She offered him a delicate curtsey, her eyes gleaming with inquisitiveness as she spoke, "Welcome to my home. The Court of Thorns welcomes and embraces thee for this night. May thee enjoy it."</p><br />
<br />
|Title=Roleplay from Lilyana Briarwood<br />
|Signature=}}<br />
{{BMMessage<br />
|Width=80<br />
|Type=Roleplay<br />
|Sent=Tue Aug 22, 2023 16:23:29<br />
|Sender=Juste Lamphear|Recipients=Message sent to all nobles of Perdan (19 recipients)<br />
|Content=<p><u><strong>Juste: The Ball of Thorns</strong></u></p><br />
<br />
<p>Sir Juste was a reserved young man. He was clearly listening to Dame Lilyana as she spoke to him, but his attention was also fixated on everything around him. He was keeping tabs on every exit, every witness, and every alibi as if he were a thief infiltrating a big score. If she was attentive enough, Dame Lilyana might even catch on to his mannerisms. It wouldn't be farfetched for her to wonder if he was prone to paranoia. Regardless of it all, he too had picked up the same patterns she has.</p><br />
<br />
<p><em>This isn't her party.</em> He thinks to himself. <em>It's a party for her, sure. But it's not her party. Looks like I'm the first of the Perdanese martial heads to have arrived. I bet she's itching for an excuse to not be stuck with political agendas and would-be suitors.</em></p><br />
<br />
<p>"I am grateful, Dame Lilyana for the hospitality of yourself and your esteemed family. I look forward to meeting with more of...<em>Our </em>peers as the night goes on. Though I admit that I would be pleased to share wine and conversation with you before you are lost to the...<em>Masses.</em>"</p><br />
<br />
<p>A keen ear would pick up Juste's accent. It was subtle, and sounded as if many years of study went into hiding it. But English was not his native tongue, which was odd for a son of Aix. His voice was gentle, and flowed like the silk that lined the inside of his shoulder cloak. Most people speak with body language that gives them away. A subtle curve of the brow, or flick of their gaze. Hand motions, nodding, or leaning. And while Juste wasn't immune to body language, he was definitely using an incredibly small amount of it, as if the notion of doing so was being kept in check.</p><br />
<br />
<p>How disciplined.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Shameless, however was the attempt for a <em>second</em> kiss to her fingers, to be done while locking eyes with a mid-thirties charlatan that had been watching the two Knights like a hawk. Dame Lilyana would be afforded plenty of time to react, but he was likely to move on soon after.</p><br />
<br />
|Title=Roleplay from Juste Lamphear<br />
|Signature=}}<br />
<br />
{{BMMessage<br />
|Width=80<br />
|Type=Roleplay<br />
|Sent=Wed Aug 23, 2023 04:51:19<br />
|Sender=Lilyana Briarwood|Recipients=Message sent to all nobles of Perdan (19 recipients)<br />
|Content=<p><strong><u>Lilyana: The Ball of Thorns</u></strong></p><br />
<br />
<p>Lilyana's eyes shimmered with intrigue as Juste remained in her gaze. His guarded demeanour, the way his eyes scanned the estate's entrance, it all danced with a hint of caution. She sensed more than met the eye, a man cautious not of thievery but of something deeper, something concealed. Her lips curved in a quiet acknowledgment of his vigilance, a touch of amusement hiding behind the cryptic veneer of her expression.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Observing him, she contemplated his mannerisms, the restrained way he moved, and the economy of his gestures. This knight of the realm, he held himself back. There was a story behind his eyes, one she intended to uncover.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Recognition flickered in Juste's gaze as he thanked her for the hospitality. His choice of words caught her attention—a subtle emphasis on "our peers" and the idea of her being "lost to the masses." Lilyana perceived the emphasis and felt the weight behind them. He knew, she realized, he understood the role her father had assigned to her this evening. The unspoken words echoed between them, a shared understanding of the orchestrated charade. Ever a connoisseur of nuances, Lilyana detected a soft accent that flavoured his speech. A second language, spoken with mastery yet revealing glimpses of his origins. Another layer to unravel in due time.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Her response was a delicate smile, a subtle nod acknowledging his words. "Indeed, sharing conversation and wine with a fellow knight of Aix would be an honour," she said, her voice a whispered melody. "But to desert the entrance with the absence of my presence? <em>Unthinkable</em>. Who else would extend greetings to our <em>esteemed </em>guests?" A delicate finger tapped her chin in a thoughtful gesture, and a plan took shape behind her eyes.</p><br />
<br />
<p>"Would thee perhaps grace me with thy company through the gardens?" she proposed her voice a soft invitation. "There is a small patio nearby from where we could see the entrance. A place less congested, where conversations may flow freely, no?"</p><br />
<br />
<p>As if in response, her gaze shifted momentarily, meeting her father's frigid stare from across the hall. His disapproval was palpable, the icy daggers he cast her way an unspoken warning. A challenge glinted in Lilyana's eyes, silent defiance directed at the man who sought to control her.</p><br />
<br />
<p>A kiss upon her hand brought her back to the present, Juste's eyes a shield against an impertinent gaze. Her cheeks flushed, a delicate pink tinging her skin, as she smiled anew. "Shameless, Ser Juste. An interesting move," she remarked, her tone a velvet murmur.</p><br />
<br />
<p>With a graceful inclination of her head, she gestured toward the gardens, a realm veiled in the moonlight. "Shall we? Or does the heart of the mansion hold greater allure?" Her gaze sparkled with curiosity.</p><br />
<br />
|Title=Roleplay from Lilyana Briarwood<br />
|Signature=}}<br />
{{BMMessage<br />
|Width=80<br />
|Type=Roleplay<br />
|Sent=Thu Aug 24, 2023 09:16:12<br />
|Sender=Juste Lamphear|Recipients=Message sent to all nobles of Perdan (20 recipients)<br />
|Content=<p><strong>Juste: The Briarwood Ball</strong><br /><br />
<br /><br />
A careful gaze is cast in the direction of Dame Lilyana's presumed father. Donald <em>did</em> tell Juste about the man, but at the same time, it was also information from Donald. You would need more than a pinch of salt when listening to his opinions.<br /><br />
<br /><br />
"Denying your invitation would be folly, Dame Lilyana. The night is still in its infancy. There's yet plenty of time left for me to ignore everyone else here. For I do not recall seeing their signatures on the invitation."<br /><br />
<br /><br />
Sir Juste somehow managed to straight his posture even more than it already was as he presents his arm to to his fellow Knight. And while he wasn't trying to make things too obvious, it would likely be clear to Lilyana that Juste was poking the bear. Seems like inciting the ire of her father was a game to him.<br /><br />
<br /><br />
Other things for Lilyana to take note of in regards to Juste was the fact that he was still yet young. Though despite his age, he presented himself with the etiquette and mannerisms of someone who was well practiced. Most men his age, even some of nobility would be cocky, especially with being a newly appointed Knight, but not Juste. He was careful and meticulous, almost like he was under some sort of spell.<br /><br />
<br /><br />
While they walked, he would start the volley by requesting, "Tell me about your experiences thus far, is it at all like what you expected?"</p><br />
|Title=Roleplay from Juste Lamphear<br />
|Signature=}}</div>Marcus Daubenyhttps://wiki.battlemaster.org/index.php?title=Briarwood_Family/Liliyana/The_Ball_of_Thorns/Meanwhile&diff=218351Briarwood Family/Liliyana/The Ball of Thorns/Meanwhile2023-08-25T06:46:17Z<p>Marcus Daubeny: Created page with " {{BMMessage |Width=80 |Type=Roleplay |Sent=Wed Aug 23, 2023 10:30:50 |Sender=Juste Lamphear|Recipients=Message sent to all nobles of Perdan (19 recipients) |Content=<p><stron..."</p>
<hr />
<div><br />
{{BMMessage<br />
|Width=80<br />
|Type=Roleplay<br />
|Sent=Wed Aug 23, 2023 10:30:50<br />
|Sender=Juste Lamphear|Recipients=Message sent to all nobles of Perdan (19 recipients)<br />
|Content=<p><strong>Blood Moon</strong><br /><br />
<br /><br />
[Somewhere in Perdan City, six days before the Briarwood Ball]<br /><br />
<br /><br />
"Walk not only in the grace of our sun..." a voice says from behind a veil of shadows, "...but also in the light of the moon. For both shine upon the duality of our nature."<br /><br />
<br /><br />
Chiming in from the lone doorway of the dimly-lit office responds a man hidden under the cover of a large, black cloak. "I didn't take you for the religious type. Tell me, what do your scriptures say about the moon when it is bathed in Crimson?"<br /><br />
<br /><br />
For a few moments, silence reigned supreme, suspended within air thick enough to cut. Finally, a response echoes forth, "Walk. Or find thyself incapable."<br /><br />
<br /><br />
A smile forms under the hood of the rogue man, now stepping into the office with an air of confidence around him. He reveals a small piece of jewelry that he places on the oak desk separating him and his companion. It was a signet ring, a gold band with a broad, flat head. Inscribed upon it was overlapping lines akin to a den of snakes, and in the middle was a small peridot that had been neglected of a shine for far too long. Within the band were engraved initials. A.F.C.<br /><br />
<br /><br />
In response to the presentation of the ring, a heavy purse is slid across the wood surface to be snatched up and evaluated. The man in the chair takes the signet ring and says, "I have three more. Five. Twelve. And Fifty."<br /><br />
<br /><br />
"Fifty?!" Is echoed loudly in immediate response. "Please, take my money, ser."<br /><br />
<br /><br />
That heavy pouch is tossed right back across the table, and in exchange an envelope is extended to the rogue. "You'll find your mark in Aix. The contract says all you need to know. Sign in blood, please."<br /><br />
<br /><br />
Pricking his finger on an exposed needle, the rogue drips his blood into an inkwell, then uses a clean quill to dip, and sign his name on a presented ledger. "A five-hundred gold contract. This is exciting."<br /><br />
<br /><br />
"Indeed. May she favor you, Mr. Silas. Oh and...Thank you for the ring. It's quite charming."</p><br />
|Title=Roleplay from Juste Lamphear<br />
|Signature=}}</div>Marcus Daubenyhttps://wiki.battlemaster.org/index.php?title=Briarwood_Family/Liliyana/The_Ball_of_Thorns&diff=218350Briarwood Family/Liliyana/The Ball of Thorns2023-08-25T06:46:00Z<p>Marcus Daubeny: </p>
<hr />
<div><br />
{{BMMessage<br />
|Width=80<br />
|Type=Roleplay<br />
|Sent=Sun Aug 20, 2023 14:55:25<br />
|Sender=Lilyana Briarwood|Recipients=Message sent to all nobles of Perdan (18 recipients)<br />
|Content=<p><u><strong>Lilyana: The Ball of Thorns</strong></u></p><br />
<br />
<p>In the soft glow of the moonlight, Lilyana Briarwood stood regally at the entrance to her family mansion. The delicate beams filtered through the overgrown garden, casting ethereal shadows that danced upon the walls of the small, purple-hued mansion. Its exterior, adorned with thorny vines that had long lost their vibrancy, seemed to meld with the night, creating an air of both elegance and eerie mystery.</p><br />
<br />
<p>She wore a wispy black dress that flowed around her curvaceous figure like wisps of smoke. Lilyana's midnight black hair cascaded down her shoulders, and her burgundy eyes held an eerie depth that shimmered in the moonlight. Her presence exuded a captivating charm that seemed to beckon the moonlight to her side.</p><br />
<br />
<p>With a serene exhale, she smoothed out the few crinkles in her dress and straightened her posture. Tonight, a grand ball was to take place within these walls, a gathering of the elite and the powerful. Lilyana's gaze turned wistful as she contemplated her missing younger brother, Malachi. She hoped he was safe, somewhere far from harm's reach.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Her introspection was broken by the authoritative clearing of a throat. A middle-aged man, marked by a salt-and-pepper beard and cold navy blue eyes, approached her. "Are you ready to receive our guests, Daughter?" he inquired, his voice resonating with both command and underlying tension.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Lilyana nodded gracefully, her countenance unwavering. "Yes, Father," she replied, her voice a soft, soothing murmur, "will Mother be joining us?" A subtle note of concern laced her words, a question left hanging in the air.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Her father's gaze narrowed, and his tone turned sombre. "No. Not tonight," he replied tersely. Leaning in, he spoke in hushed tones, a venomous undercurrent tainting his words. "You look the part but do not forget what your duty is. Try not to enjoy yourself too much tonight, <em>Dame Briarwood</em>."</p><br />
<br />
<p>Lilyana's smile remained steadfast as she met her father's gaze. "But of course, <em>Ser Elias Briarwood</em>," she responded with unruffled grace, her words a gentle reminder of her stature and resilience.</p><br />
<br />
<p>With those words, her father walked away, leaving her in the moonlit silence. A sigh escaped her lips, and she turned her attention to the rising moon, a symbol of change and new beginnings. "And so it begins, time to put on a show," she murmured to herself, her voice carrying a sense of purpose.</p><br />
<br />
<p>A clap of her hands brought forth a servant, adorned in a silver elk skull mask, from the shadows. "Ma'am?" the servant inquired.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Lilyana turned to face them, her expression composed and decisive. "Inform the others," she instructed, her voice carrying the weight of her authority, "let the musicians start and have the guests admitted in. It's time."</p><br />
<br />
<p>The servant bowed respectfully and retreated, carrying out Lilyana's orders with quiet efficiency. As the night progressed, guests began to arrive, drawn to the mansion by the enchanting melodies that emanated from within. Lilyana steeled herself, her warm smile in place as she greeted each guest with poise and charm.</p><br />
<br />
<p>The mansion soon echoed with the lively strains of music, its haunting beauty resonating in every corner. Lilyana stood, a figure of elegance and mystery, presiding over the Court of Thorns. As the moonlight continued to wash over her family's mansion, she embraced the role fate had cast upon her, ready to navigate the dance of intrigue and nobility that awaited within the shadows of this most auspicious night.</p><br />
<br />
<p> </p><br />
<br />
<p>(Music I have playing for reference: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pxFS1DFRnrk )</p><br />
<br />
|Title=Roleplay from Lilyana Briarwood<br />
|Signature=}}<br />
{{BMMessage<br />
|Width=80<br />
|Type=Roleplay<br />
|Sent=Tue Aug 22, 2023 09:19:18<br />
|Sender=Juste Lamphear|Recipients=Message sent to all nobles of Perdan (19 recipients)<br />
|Content=<p><strong>Pirouetting Under the Lunar Gaze; The Briarwood Ball</strong>.<br /><br />
<br /><br />
The music was <em>serene.</em> Perfect, even. The ensemble of strings called out into the night like a siren song, entrancing the young knight as he stepped from his buggy.<br /><br />
<br /><br />
"G'luck to ye, laddie, advisor says with a glint in his eye. No chaperone needed; Juste would brave this night alone.<br /><br />
<br /><br />
The night seemed to be Sir Juste's favourite time. While his family colours were white and red, Juste opted for a full black garb with red trimming. His trousers fit tightly and had red pinstripes that tucked away under knee-high leather boots that had cuffs at the tops. He wore a red undershirt with a black vest and coat, both adorned with crimson trimming and the family crest on his back. Ultimately, he wasn't dressed too regal, but enough to pass for a proper guest.<br /><br />
<br /><br />
The young knight's stark hair was let down to flow over his back as he took long, purposeful strides into the moonlit mansion. A knowing grin was plastered over his face as he is finally given the chance to meet with Dame Liliyana for the first time. With the grace of a ln ebony cat, he would reach out for her hand with a bow of his head, offering a kiss to her fingers while greeting her. "Well met, Dame Liliyana. The night is perfect."</p><br />
|Title=Roleplay from Juste Lamphear<br />
|Signature=}}<br />
<br />
{{BMMessage<br />
|Width=80<br />
|Type=Roleplay<br />
|Sent=Tue Aug 22, 2023 11:23:06<br />
|Sender=Lilyana Briarwood|Recipients=Message sent to all nobles of Perdan (19 recipients)<br />
|Content=<p><u><strong>Lilyana: The Ball of Thorns</strong></u></p><br />
<br />
<p>As the guests filed in – a collection of rich merchants and minor nobles of Aix – Lilyana greeted each with a polite and serene smile. Her lips curved gracefully, but her thoughts danced in cryptic patterns as she observed the unimpressive arrivals. These were her father's friends, a network of connections tied through social and financial bonds. Some faces were familiar, acquaintances from the echelons of nobility, and she could already foresee the pattern of the night.</p><br />
<br />
<p>It was a ritual repeated far too often. Her father's companions had brought their sons, suitors preordained by familial aspirations. Lilyana's heart sighed with resignation; once again, she would have to deflect advances that held no genuine interest for her. With a soft exhalation, she prepared herself for the chore of the evening.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Amid the sea of mundane interactions, one figure stood apart. A lone silhouette, purposeful and regal, strode with conviction toward the entrance. His attire spoke of higher nobility, befitting someone of her own stature. Her eyes traced his movements, recognizing the distinction in his bearing even though she was unable to discern his colours or insignia.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Politely, she extricated herself from the clutches of an old soldier turned merchant, Rickard Trask, who was ensnaring her in a web of tedious war stories. With a smile that concealed her distant thoughts, she addressed him, "Perhaps thee can finish thy tale inside, Good Lord. It sounds like one best shared over drinks and one not to be kept to myself. I hear Mr. Astigar has a love for such tales." The old man nodded, grinning, and ambled indoors, leaving Lilyana free to pursue a more captivating conversation.</p><br />
<br />
<p>As the lone figure drew closer, Lilyana's gaze remained locked on him. His presence resonated differently, sparking her curiosity in ways that others couldn't. His steps were deliberate, each one carrying an air of calculated elegance. When he reached her, their eyes met, and her cryptic smile shifted subtly into one of genuine warmth.</p><br />
<br />
<p>The soft rustle of fabric accompanied her movement as she extended her hand. In the pale moonlight, her cheeks took on the faintest hue of blush as he pressed a gentle kiss to her hand. "Greetings and grace upon thee, Ser Juste," she said, her voice a soothing melody wrapped in an eerie cadence. "The night is beautiful, isn't it? But I would not call it perfect. There is much yet to be seen. I am grateful thee came."</p><br />
<br />
<p>His presence, his energy, was a fresh breath of air to the night. She offered him a delicate curtsey, her eyes gleaming with inquisitiveness as she spoke, "Welcome to my home. The Court of Thorns welcomes and embraces thee for this night. May thee enjoy it."</p><br />
<br />
|Title=Roleplay from Lilyana Briarwood<br />
|Signature=}}<br />
{{BMMessage<br />
|Width=80<br />
|Type=Roleplay<br />
|Sent=Tue Aug 22, 2023 16:23:29<br />
|Sender=Juste Lamphear|Recipients=Message sent to all nobles of Perdan (19 recipients)<br />
|Content=<p><u><strong>Juste: The Ball of Thorns</strong></u></p><br />
<br />
<p>Sir Juste was a reserved young man. He was clearly listening to Dame Lilyana as she spoke to him, but his attention was also fixated on everything around him. He was keeping tabs on every exit, every witness, and every alibi as if he were a thief infiltrating a big score. If she was attentive enough, Dame Lilyana might even catch on to his mannerisms. It wouldn't be farfetched for her to wonder if he was prone to paranoia. Regardless of it all, he too had picked up the same patterns she has.</p><br />
<br />
<p><em>This isn't her party.</em> He thinks to himself. <em>It's a party for her, sure. But it's not her party. Looks like I'm the first of the Perdanese martial heads to have arrived. I bet she's itching for an excuse to not be stuck with political agendas and would-be suitors.</em></p><br />
<br />
<p>"I am grateful, Dame Lilyana for the hospitality of yourself and your esteemed family. I look forward to meeting with more of...<em>Our </em>peers as the night goes on. Though I admit that I would be pleased to share wine and conversation with you before you are lost to the...<em>Masses.</em>"</p><br />
<br />
<p>A keen ear would pick up Juste's accent. It was subtle, and sounded as if many years of study went into hiding it. But English was not his native tongue, which was odd for a son of Aix. His voice was gentle, and flowed like the silk that lined the inside of his shoulder cloak. Most people speak with body language that gives them away. A subtle curve of the brow, or flick of their gaze. Hand motions, nodding, or leaning. And while Juste wasn't immune to body language, he was definitely using an incredibly small amount of it, as if the notion of doing so was being kept in check.</p><br />
<br />
<p>How disciplined.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Shameless, however was the attempt for a <em>second</em> kiss to her fingers, to be done while locking eyes with a mid-thirties charlatan that had been watching the two Knights like a hawk. Dame Lilyana would be afforded plenty of time to react, but he was likely to move on soon after.</p><br />
<br />
|Title=Roleplay from Juste Lamphear<br />
|Signature=}}<br />
[[/Meanwhile/]]<br />
{{BMMessage<br />
|Width=80<br />
|Type=Roleplay<br />
|Sent=Wed Aug 23, 2023 04:51:19<br />
|Sender=Lilyana Briarwood|Recipients=Message sent to all nobles of Perdan (19 recipients)<br />
|Content=<p><strong><u>Lilyana: The Ball of Thorns</u></strong></p><br />
<br />
<p>Lilyana's eyes shimmered with intrigue as Juste remained in her gaze. His guarded demeanour, the way his eyes scanned the estate's entrance, it all danced with a hint of caution. She sensed more than met the eye, a man cautious not of thievery but of something deeper, something concealed. Her lips curved in a quiet acknowledgment of his vigilance, a touch of amusement hiding behind the cryptic veneer of her expression.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Observing him, she contemplated his mannerisms, the restrained way he moved, and the economy of his gestures. This knight of the realm, he held himself back. There was a story behind his eyes, one she intended to uncover.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Recognition flickered in Juste's gaze as he thanked her for the hospitality. His choice of words caught her attention—a subtle emphasis on "our peers" and the idea of her being "lost to the masses." Lilyana perceived the emphasis and felt the weight behind them. He knew, she realized, he understood the role her father had assigned to her this evening. The unspoken words echoed between them, a shared understanding of the orchestrated charade. Ever a connoisseur of nuances, Lilyana detected a soft accent that flavoured his speech. A second language, spoken with mastery yet revealing glimpses of his origins. Another layer to unravel in due time.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Her response was a delicate smile, a subtle nod acknowledging his words. "Indeed, sharing conversation and wine with a fellow knight of Aix would be an honour," she said, her voice a whispered melody. "But to desert the entrance with the absence of my presence? <em>Unthinkable</em>. Who else would extend greetings to our <em>esteemed </em>guests?" A delicate finger tapped her chin in a thoughtful gesture, and a plan took shape behind her eyes.</p><br />
<br />
<p>"Would thee perhaps grace me with thy company through the gardens?" she proposed her voice a soft invitation. "There is a small patio nearby from where we could see the entrance. A place less congested, where conversations may flow freely, no?"</p><br />
<br />
<p>As if in response, her gaze shifted momentarily, meeting her father's frigid stare from across the hall. His disapproval was palpable, the icy daggers he cast her way an unspoken warning. A challenge glinted in Lilyana's eyes, silent defiance directed at the man who sought to control her.</p><br />
<br />
<p>A kiss upon her hand brought her back to the present, Juste's eyes a shield against an impertinent gaze. Her cheeks flushed, a delicate pink tinging her skin, as she smiled anew. "Shameless, Ser Juste. An interesting move," she remarked, her tone a velvet murmur.</p><br />
<br />
<p>With a graceful inclination of her head, she gestured toward the gardens, a realm veiled in the moonlight. "Shall we? Or does the heart of the mansion hold greater allure?" Her gaze sparkled with curiosity.</p><br />
<br />
|Title=Roleplay from Lilyana Briarwood<br />
|Signature=}}<br />
{{BMMessage<br />
|Width=80<br />
|Type=Roleplay<br />
|Sent=Thu Aug 24, 2023 09:16:12<br />
|Sender=Juste Lamphear|Recipients=Message sent to all nobles of Perdan (20 recipients)<br />
|Content=<p><strong>Juste: The Briarwood Ball</strong><br /><br />
<br /><br />
A careful gaze is cast in the direction of Dame Lilyana's presumed father. Donald <em>did</em> tell Juste about the man, but at the same time, it was also information from Donald. You would need more than a pinch of salt when listening to his opinions.<br /><br />
<br /><br />
"Denying your invitation would be folly, Dame Lilyana. The night is still in its infancy. There's yet plenty of time left for me to ignore everyone else here. For I do not recall seeing their signatures on the invitation."<br /><br />
<br /><br />
Sir Juste somehow managed to straight his posture even more than it already was as he presents his arm to to his fellow Knight. And while he wasn't trying to make things too obvious, it would likely be clear to Lilyana that Juste was poking the bear. Seems like inciting the ire of her father was a game to him.<br /><br />
<br /><br />
Other things for Lilyana to take note of in regards to Juste was the fact that he was still yet young. Though despite his age, he presented himself with the etiquette and mannerisms of someone who was well practiced. Most men his age, even some of nobility would be cocky, especially with being a newly appointed Knight, but not Juste. He was careful and meticulous, almost like he was under some sort of spell.<br /><br />
<br /><br />
While they walked, he would start the volley by requesting, "Tell me about your experiences thus far, is it at all like what you expected?"</p><br />
|Title=Roleplay from Juste Lamphear<br />
|Signature=}}</div>Marcus Daubenyhttps://wiki.battlemaster.org/index.php?title=Briarwood_Family/Liliyana/The_Ball_of_Thorns&diff=218334Briarwood Family/Liliyana/The Ball of Thorns2023-08-22T15:23:29Z<p>Marcus Daubeny: </p>
<hr />
<div><br />
{{BMMessage<br />
|Width=80<br />
|Type=Roleplay<br />
|Sent=Sun Aug 20, 2023 14:55:25<br />
|Sender=Lilyana Briarwood|Recipients=Message sent to all nobles of Perdan (18 recipients)<br />
|Content=<p><u><strong>Lilyana: The Ball of Thorns</strong></u></p><br />
<br />
<p>In the soft glow of the moonlight, Lilyana Briarwood stood regally at the entrance to her family mansion. The delicate beams filtered through the overgrown garden, casting ethereal shadows that danced upon the walls of the small, purple-hued mansion. Its exterior, adorned with thorny vines that had long lost their vibrancy, seemed to meld with the night, creating an air of both elegance and eerie mystery.</p><br />
<br />
<p>She wore a wispy black dress that flowed around her curvaceous figure like wisps of smoke. Lilyana's midnight black hair cascaded down her shoulders, and her burgundy eyes held an eerie depth that shimmered in the moonlight. Her presence exuded a captivating charm that seemed to beckon the moonlight to her side.</p><br />
<br />
<p>With a serene exhale, she smoothed out the few crinkles in her dress and straightened her posture. Tonight, a grand ball was to take place within these walls, a gathering of the elite and the powerful. Lilyana's gaze turned wistful as she contemplated her missing younger brother, Malachi. She hoped he was safe, somewhere far from harm's reach.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Her introspection was broken by the authoritative clearing of a throat. A middle-aged man, marked by a salt-and-pepper beard and cold navy blue eyes, approached her. "Are you ready to receive our guests, Daughter?" he inquired, his voice resonating with both command and underlying tension.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Lilyana nodded gracefully, her countenance unwavering. "Yes, Father," she replied, her voice a soft, soothing murmur, "will Mother be joining us?" A subtle note of concern laced her words, a question left hanging in the air.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Her father's gaze narrowed, and his tone turned sombre. "No. Not tonight," he replied tersely. Leaning in, he spoke in hushed tones, a venomous undercurrent tainting his words. "You look the part but do not forget what your duty is. Try not to enjoy yourself too much tonight, <em>Dame Briarwood</em>."</p><br />
<br />
<p>Lilyana's smile remained steadfast as she met her father's gaze. "But of course, <em>Ser Elias Briarwood</em>," she responded with unruffled grace, her words a gentle reminder of her stature and resilience.</p><br />
<br />
<p>With those words, her father walked away, leaving her in the moonlit silence. A sigh escaped her lips, and she turned her attention to the rising moon, a symbol of change and new beginnings. "And so it begins, time to put on a show," she murmured to herself, her voice carrying a sense of purpose.</p><br />
<br />
<p>A clap of her hands brought forth a servant, adorned in a silver elk skull mask, from the shadows. "Ma'am?" the servant inquired.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Lilyana turned to face them, her expression composed and decisive. "Inform the others," she instructed, her voice carrying the weight of her authority, "let the musicians start and have the guests admitted in. It's time."</p><br />
<br />
<p>The servant bowed respectfully and retreated, carrying out Lilyana's orders with quiet efficiency. As the night progressed, guests began to arrive, drawn to the mansion by the enchanting melodies that emanated from within. Lilyana steeled herself, her warm smile in place as she greeted each guest with poise and charm.</p><br />
<br />
<p>The mansion soon echoed with the lively strains of music, its haunting beauty resonating in every corner. Lilyana stood, a figure of elegance and mystery, presiding over the Court of Thorns. As the moonlight continued to wash over her family's mansion, she embraced the role fate had cast upon her, ready to navigate the dance of intrigue and nobility that awaited within the shadows of this most auspicious night.</p><br />
<br />
<p> </p><br />
<br />
<p>(Music I have playing for reference: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pxFS1DFRnrk )</p><br />
<br />
|Title=Roleplay from Lilyana Briarwood<br />
|Signature=}}<br />
{{BMMessage<br />
|Width=80<br />
|Type=Roleplay<br />
|Sent=Tue Aug 22, 2023 09:19:18<br />
|Sender=Juste Lamphear|Recipients=Message sent to all nobles of Perdan (19 recipients)<br />
|Content=<p><strong>Pirouetting Under the Lunar Gaze; The Briarwood Ball</strong>.<br /><br />
<br /><br />
The music was <em>serene.</em> Perfect, even. The ensemble of strings called out into the night like a siren song, entrancing the young knight as he stepped from his buggy.<br /><br />
<br /><br />
"G'luck to ye, laddie, advisor says with a glint in his eye. No chaperone needed; Juste would brave this night alone.<br /><br />
<br /><br />
The night seemed to be Sir Juste's favourite time. While his family colours were white and red, Juste opted for a full black garb with red trimming. His trousers fit tightly and had red pinstripes that tucked away under knee-high leather boots that had cuffs at the tops. He wore a red undershirt with a black vest and coat, both adorned with crimson trimming and the family crest on his back. Ultimately, he wasn't dressed too regal, but enough to pass for a proper guest.<br /><br />
<br /><br />
The young knight's stark hair was let down to flow over his back as he took long, purposeful strides into the moonlit mansion. A knowing grin was plastered over his face as he is finally given the chance to meet with Dame Liliyana for the first time. With the grace of a ln ebony cat, he would reach out for her hand with a bow of his head, offering a kiss to her fingers while greeting her. "Well met, Dame Liliyana. The night is perfect."</p><br />
|Title=Roleplay from Juste Lamphear<br />
|Signature=}}<br />
<br />
{{BMMessage<br />
|Width=80<br />
|Type=Roleplay<br />
|Sent=Tue Aug 22, 2023 11:23:06<br />
|Sender=Lilyana Briarwood|Recipients=Message sent to all nobles of Perdan (19 recipients)<br />
|Content=<p><u><strong>Lilyana: The Ball of Thorns</strong></u></p><br />
<br />
<p>As the guests filed in – a collection of rich merchants and minor nobles of Aix – Lilyana greeted each with a polite and serene smile. Her lips curved gracefully, but her thoughts danced in cryptic patterns as she observed the unimpressive arrivals. These were her father's friends, a network of connections tied through social and financial bonds. Some faces were familiar, acquaintances from the echelons of nobility, and she could already foresee the pattern of the night.</p><br />
<br />
<p>It was a ritual repeated far too often. Her father's companions had brought their sons, suitors preordained by familial aspirations. Lilyana's heart sighed with resignation; once again, she would have to deflect advances that held no genuine interest for her. With a soft exhalation, she prepared herself for the chore of the evening.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Amid the sea of mundane interactions, one figure stood apart. A lone silhouette, purposeful and regal, strode with conviction toward the entrance. His attire spoke of higher nobility, befitting someone of her own stature. Her eyes traced his movements, recognizing the distinction in his bearing even though she was unable to discern his colours or insignia.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Politely, she extricated herself from the clutches of an old soldier turned merchant, Rickard Trask, who was ensnaring her in a web of tedious war stories. With a smile that concealed her distant thoughts, she addressed him, "Perhaps thee can finish thy tale inside, Good Lord. It sounds like one best shared over drinks and one not to be kept to myself. I hear Mr. Astigar has a love for such tales." The old man nodded, grinning, and ambled indoors, leaving Lilyana free to pursue a more captivating conversation.</p><br />
<br />
<p>As the lone figure drew closer, Lilyana's gaze remained locked on him. His presence resonated differently, sparking her curiosity in ways that others couldn't. His steps were deliberate, each one carrying an air of calculated elegance. When he reached her, their eyes met, and her cryptic smile shifted subtly into one of genuine warmth.</p><br />
<br />
<p>The soft rustle of fabric accompanied her movement as she extended her hand. In the pale moonlight, her cheeks took on the faintest hue of blush as he pressed a gentle kiss to her hand. "Greetings and grace upon thee, Ser Juste," she said, her voice a soothing melody wrapped in an eerie cadence. "The night is beautiful, isn't it? But I would not call it perfect. There is much yet to be seen. I am grateful thee came."</p><br />
<br />
<p>His presence, his energy, was a fresh breath of air to the night. She offered him a delicate curtsey, her eyes gleaming with inquisitiveness as she spoke, "Welcome to my home. The Court of Thorns welcomes and embraces thee for this night. May thee enjoy it."</p><br />
<br />
|Title=Roleplay from Lilyana Briarwood<br />
|Signature=}}</div>Marcus Daubenyhttps://wiki.battlemaster.org/index.php?title=Briarwood_Family/Liliyana/The_Ball_of_Thorns&diff=218333Briarwood Family/Liliyana/The Ball of Thorns2023-08-22T14:52:55Z<p>Marcus Daubeny: </p>
<hr />
<div><br />
{{BMMessage<br />
|Width=80<br />
|Type=Roleplay<br />
|Sent=Sun Aug 20, 2023 14:55:25<br />
|Sender=Lilyana Briarwood|Recipients=Message sent to all nobles of Perdan (18 recipients)<br />
|Content=<p><u><strong>Lilyana: The Ball of Thorns</strong></u></p><br />
<br />
<p>In the soft glow of the moonlight, Lilyana Briarwood stood regally at the entrance to her family mansion. The delicate beams filtered through the overgrown garden, casting ethereal shadows that danced upon the walls of the small, purple-hued mansion. Its exterior, adorned with thorny vines that had long lost their vibrancy, seemed to meld with the night, creating an air of both elegance and eerie mystery.</p><br />
<br />
<p>She wore a wispy black dress that flowed around her curvaceous figure like wisps of smoke. Lilyana's midnight black hair cascaded down her shoulders, and her burgundy eyes held an eerie depth that shimmered in the moonlight. Her presence exuded a captivating charm that seemed to beckon the moonlight to her side.</p><br />
<br />
<p>With a serene exhale, she smoothed out the few crinkles in her dress and straightened her posture. Tonight, a grand ball was to take place within these walls, a gathering of the elite and the powerful. Lilyana's gaze turned wistful as she contemplated her missing younger brother, Malachi. She hoped he was safe, somewhere far from harm's reach.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Her introspection was broken by the authoritative clearing of a throat. A middle-aged man, marked by a salt-and-pepper beard and cold navy blue eyes, approached her. "Are you ready to receive our guests, Daughter?" he inquired, his voice resonating with both command and underlying tension.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Lilyana nodded gracefully, her countenance unwavering. "Yes, Father," she replied, her voice a soft, soothing murmur, "will Mother be joining us?" A subtle note of concern laced her words, a question left hanging in the air.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Her father's gaze narrowed, and his tone turned sombre. "No. Not tonight," he replied tersely. Leaning in, he spoke in hushed tones, a venomous undercurrent tainting his words. "You look the part but do not forget what your duty is. Try not to enjoy yourself too much tonight, <em>Dame Briarwood</em>."</p><br />
<br />
<p>Lilyana's smile remained steadfast as she met her father's gaze. "But of course, <em>Ser Elias Briarwood</em>," she responded with unruffled grace, her words a gentle reminder of her stature and resilience.</p><br />
<br />
<p>With those words, her father walked away, leaving her in the moonlit silence. A sigh escaped her lips, and she turned her attention to the rising moon, a symbol of change and new beginnings. "And so it begins, time to put on a show," she murmured to herself, her voice carrying a sense of purpose.</p><br />
<br />
<p>A clap of her hands brought forth a servant, adorned in a silver elk skull mask, from the shadows. "Ma'am?" the servant inquired.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Lilyana turned to face them, her expression composed and decisive. "Inform the others," she instructed, her voice carrying the weight of her authority, "let the musicians start and have the guests admitted in. It's time."</p><br />
<br />
<p>The servant bowed respectfully and retreated, carrying out Lilyana's orders with quiet efficiency. As the night progressed, guests began to arrive, drawn to the mansion by the enchanting melodies that emanated from within. Lilyana steeled herself, her warm smile in place as she greeted each guest with poise and charm.</p><br />
<br />
<p>The mansion soon echoed with the lively strains of music, its haunting beauty resonating in every corner. Lilyana stood, a figure of elegance and mystery, presiding over the Court of Thorns. As the moonlight continued to wash over her family's mansion, she embraced the role fate had cast upon her, ready to navigate the dance of intrigue and nobility that awaited within the shadows of this most auspicious night.</p><br />
<br />
<p> </p><br />
<br />
<p>(Music I have playing for reference: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pxFS1DFRnrk )</p><br />
<br />
|Title=Roleplay from Lilyana Briarwood<br />
|Signature=}}<br />
{{BMMessage<br />
|Width=80<br />
|Type=Roleplay<br />
|Sent=Tue Aug 22, 2023 09:19:18<br />
|Sender=Juste Lamphear|Recipients=Message sent to all nobles of Perdan (19 recipients)<br />
|Content=<p><strong>Pirouetting Under the Lunar Gaze; The Briarwood Ball</strong>.<br /><br />
<br /><br />
The music was <em>serene.</em> Perfect, even. The ensemble of strings called out into the night like a siren song, entrancing the young knight as he stepped from his buggy.<br /><br />
<br /><br />
"G'luck to ye, laddie, advisor says with a glint in his eye. No chaperone needed; Juste would brave this night alone.<br /><br />
<br /><br />
The night seemed to be Sir Juste's favourite time. While his family colours were white and red, Juste opted for a full black garb with red trimming. His trousers fit tightly and had red pinstripes that tucked away under knee-high leather boots that had cuffs at the tops. He wore a red undershirt with a black vest and coat, both adorned with crimson trimming and the family crest on his back. Ultimately, he wasn't dressed too regal, but enough to pass for a proper guest.<br /><br />
<br /><br />
The young knight's stark hair was let down to flow over his back as he took long, purposeful strides into the moonlit mansion. A knowing grin was plastered over his face as he is finally given the chance to meet with Dame Liliyana for the first time. With the grace of a ln ebony cat, he would reach out for her hand with a bow of his head, offering a kiss to her fingers while greeting her. "Well met, Dame Liliyana. The night is perfect."</p><br />
|Title=Roleplay from Juste Lamphear<br />
|Signature=}}</div>Marcus Daubenyhttps://wiki.battlemaster.org/index.php?title=Briarwood_Family/Liliyana/The_Ball_of_Thorns&diff=218319Briarwood Family/Liliyana/The Ball of Thorns2023-08-20T18:55:58Z<p>Marcus Daubeny: Created page with " {{BMMessage |Width=80 |Type=Roleplay |Sent=Sun Aug 20, 2023 14:55:25 |Sender=Lilyana Briarwood|Recipients=Message sent to all nobles of Perdan (18 recipients) |Content=<p><u>..."</p>
<hr />
<div><br />
{{BMMessage<br />
|Width=80<br />
|Type=Roleplay<br />
|Sent=Sun Aug 20, 2023 14:55:25<br />
|Sender=Lilyana Briarwood|Recipients=Message sent to all nobles of Perdan (18 recipients)<br />
|Content=<p><u><strong>Lilyana: The Ball of Thorns</strong></u></p><br />
<br />
<p>In the soft glow of the moonlight, Lilyana Briarwood stood regally at the entrance to her family mansion. The delicate beams filtered through the overgrown garden, casting ethereal shadows that danced upon the walls of the small, purple-hued mansion. Its exterior, adorned with thorny vines that had long lost their vibrancy, seemed to meld with the night, creating an air of both elegance and eerie mystery.</p><br />
<br />
<p>She wore a wispy black dress that flowed around her curvaceous figure like wisps of smoke. Lilyana's midnight black hair cascaded down her shoulders, and her burgundy eyes held an eerie depth that shimmered in the moonlight. Her presence exuded a captivating charm that seemed to beckon the moonlight to her side.</p><br />
<br />
<p>With a serene exhale, she smoothed out the few crinkles in her dress and straightened her posture. Tonight, a grand ball was to take place within these walls, a gathering of the elite and the powerful. Lilyana's gaze turned wistful as she contemplated her missing younger brother, Malachi. She hoped he was safe, somewhere far from harm's reach.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Her introspection was broken by the authoritative clearing of a throat. A middle-aged man, marked by a salt-and-pepper beard and cold navy blue eyes, approached her. "Are you ready to receive our guests, Daughter?" he inquired, his voice resonating with both command and underlying tension.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Lilyana nodded gracefully, her countenance unwavering. "Yes, Father," she replied, her voice a soft, soothing murmur, "will Mother be joining us?" A subtle note of concern laced her words, a question left hanging in the air.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Her father's gaze narrowed, and his tone turned sombre. "No. Not tonight," he replied tersely. Leaning in, he spoke in hushed tones, a venomous undercurrent tainting his words. "You look the part but do not forget what your duty is. Try not to enjoy yourself too much tonight, <em>Dame Briarwood</em>."</p><br />
<br />
<p>Lilyana's smile remained steadfast as she met her father's gaze. "But of course, <em>Ser Elias Briarwood</em>," she responded with unruffled grace, her words a gentle reminder of her stature and resilience.</p><br />
<br />
<p>With those words, her father walked away, leaving her in the moonlit silence. A sigh escaped her lips, and she turned her attention to the rising moon, a symbol of change and new beginnings. "And so it begins, time to put on a show," she murmured to herself, her voice carrying a sense of purpose.</p><br />
<br />
<p>A clap of her hands brought forth a servant, adorned in a silver elk skull mask, from the shadows. "Ma'am?" the servant inquired.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Lilyana turned to face them, her expression composed and decisive. "Inform the others," she instructed, her voice carrying the weight of her authority, "let the musicians start and have the guests admitted in. It's time."</p><br />
<br />
<p>The servant bowed respectfully and retreated, carrying out Lilyana's orders with quiet efficiency. As the night progressed, guests began to arrive, drawn to the mansion by the enchanting melodies that emanated from within. Lilyana steeled herself, her warm smile in place as she greeted each guest with poise and charm.</p><br />
<br />
<p>The mansion soon echoed with the lively strains of music, its haunting beauty resonating in every corner. Lilyana stood, a figure of elegance and mystery, presiding over the Court of Thorns. As the moonlight continued to wash over her family's mansion, she embraced the role fate had cast upon her, ready to navigate the dance of intrigue and nobility that awaited within the shadows of this most auspicious night.</p><br />
<br />
<p> </p><br />
<br />
<p>(Music I have playing for reference: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pxFS1DFRnrk )</p><br />
<br />
|Title=Roleplay from Lilyana Briarwood<br />
|Signature=}}</div>Marcus Daubenyhttps://wiki.battlemaster.org/index.php?title=Briarwood_Family/Liliyana/Prelude_to_the_Ball&diff=218318Briarwood Family/Liliyana/Prelude to the Ball2023-08-20T04:50:10Z<p>Marcus Daubeny: </p>
<hr />
<div><br />
{{BMMessage<br />
|Width=80<br />
|Type=Roleplay<br />
|Sent=Sat Aug 19, 2023 06:58:39<br />
|Sender=Lilyana Briarwood|Recipients=Message sent to all nobles of Perdan (18 recipients)<br />
|Content=<p>Lilyana: Prelude to the Ball</p><br />
<br />
<p>In the heart of her secluded sanctuary, Lilyana found herself nestled within the walls of her writing room. It was a chamber that bore an air of enchantment, nestled under a low-roofed ceiling that seemed to cradle secrets whispered by the stars themselves. The walls, painted in deep hues of blackened purple, bore a sombre elegance that contrasted with the wild remnants of dead vines and thorns that clung to them as if unwilling to release their grasp on the world. Yet, despite this sombre façade, the walls were framed with trimmings of white marble, and the floors beneath her feet gleamed in the polished sheen of dark red wood.</p><br />
<br />
<p>A gentle smile graced Lilyana's lips as she lowered a delicate piece of parchment, a missive adorned with the graceful handwriting of Lady Isana Everlight. With a flourish, the lady's signature joined the ranks of illustrious guests slated to grace the impending ball.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Amidst the grandeur of names that graced the parchment, her heart swelled with a poignant sense of familiarity. These were not just names; they were echoes of stories spun by her father, tales that wove the tapestry of the Great Perdanese Nobility. Benjamin Pryde, Isana Everlight, names both radiant and enduring, the Goldwaters and Calders, bearing the weight of courage and honour. Even those whose names eluded her, she knew their essence, the resonant harmonies of their family lines, yet amidst these storied narratives, there existed an uncharted entity – Lamphear. A name unfamiliar to her, a house uncharted in her father's tales. But it was not a void that bred discomfort; rather, it was the unknown that kindled a spark of intrigue within her chest. Ser Juste, the herald of this uncharted realm, had accepted her invitation.</p><br />
<br />
<p>With a delicate grace, Lilyana turned her gaze to another parchment, one bearing the seal of Duke Tsingu Orobar. The words flowed like a river, their currents leading her through the Duke's discourse. A pause, a breath suspended, her fingers reached for slender glasses, their dark frames perching gently upon her nose as she ventured to the scribe's warning. A chuckle, a soft symphony, cascaded from her lips, its resonance woven with mirth and understanding. The Duke, it seemed, carried a reputation that extended beyond his princely title - a would-be seducer.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Summoning a silver bell from her desk, its chime resonated through the chamber twice, beckoning a servant clad in the house's signature black and purple livery. His presence was a shadow materializing within her sanctum, poised and ready to heed her command.</p><br />
<br />
<p>"What is your desire, ma'am?" the servant inquired with deference.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Lilyana turned her gaze over her shoulder, the depths of her burgundy eyes catching the candlelight's shimmer. "What do thee know of Duke Orobar?"</p><br />
<br />
<p>The servant paused, the cogs of his mind whirring before forming words. "A man of sixty-four winters, known for his curt speech and irascible temperament. He adheres to the hierarchy and is appreciative of feminine beauty."</p><br />
<br />
<p>A hint of a pout tugged at Lilyana's lips. "An age-worn member of the peerage indeed," she mused cryptically, her voice a caress of a soft enigma. "Thank thee for thy insight."</p><br />
<br />
<p>The servant dipped his head, withdrawing to leave her solitude unbroken. As the door closed, Lilyana's fingers danced across the list of attendees.</p><br />
<br />
<p>She rose from her desk and crossed the room to a door of dark brown wood. Opening it, she unveiled a chamber of opulent dreams. Walls of royal purple accented by white marble framed a cathedral ceiling adorned with a tapestry of stars. Beluaterran crystal chandeliers cast celestial light that transformed painted stars into twinkling constellations.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Drawing a deep breath, Lilyana faced the mirror beside her desk. Her appearance was simple elegance - raven hair and burgundy eyes, a buxom figure that exuded grace, though she noted the plainness of her simple spun gown, unfit for the peerage. She regarded herself with a solemn mien.</p><br />
<br />
<p>A strange and mystical necklace found its place around her throat, a poignant reminder of the path she walked. As her fingers brushed its surface, she acknowledged the mandate her father had bestowed - to find a suitor. It was a duty she accepted and one she had delayed long enough to earn his ire.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Her resolve fortified, Lilyana approached the dresser, her fingers caressing the fabrics that held her history and future. Amidst the whisper of silk and the rustle of lace, she began the delicate decision of selecting the attire that would render her radiant amidst the noble guests.</p><br />
<br />
|Title=Roleplay from Lilyana Briarwood<br />
|Signature=}}<br />
{{BMMessage<br />
|Width=80<br />
|Type=Roleplay<br />
|Sent=Sat Aug 19, 2023 08:07:43<br />
|Sender=Benjamin Pryde|Recipients=Message sent to all nobles of Perdan (18 recipients)<br />
|Content=<p>Benjamin: Prelude to the Ball<br /><br />
<br /><br />
Tea boiled in its pot, and Benjamin smiled at the scent of it. It always made him feel better just knowing it was there. And who was there making it.<br /><br />
<br /><br />
Lily carried the pot over on a tray with two cups and placed it on the sitting table before taking the chair on the other side.<br /><br />
<br /><br />
"My Lord," she said before raising the pot and filling a single cup that she set before him. Then she lowered the pot once more.<br /><br />
<br /><br />
"My Lady," he said, grasped the pot, and filled the other cup before setting it in front of her. Then he lowered the pot.<br /><br />
<br /><br />
They met each other's gazes, and Benjamin felt the years flash by. All the kingdoms and lands and peoples he had seen fade away. Even the lands he walked in his youth were gone, sunken beneath the waves of the Atamaran Ocean. And he had watched Lily's people leave and fade away. Only she and a few others remained. They had chosen to stay. She had chosen to stay. And his life was better for it. His so very long life. Men weren't meant to live as long as he had. He didn't know how her kind had done it in the old days. But she gave him a reason to wake up every day. She made his life good. And that was what mattered.<br /><br />
<br /><br />
Benjamin reached forwards, grasped his teacup and raised it to his lips.<br /><br />
<br /><br />
Lily echoed his action, and they sipped their immortalitea in unison.<br /><br />
<br /><br />
It was their old tradition. Even before they left Oligarch, when he spent all his days in the Great Library, she had brought him that tea. And every day, he felt new energy flow into him. He didn't know if there was still some magic in that old tea. He hoped there was. He wanted to spend a lifetime with Lily. He drank the tea with deep gulps and drained it in seconds. He felt its warmth flow through his scarecrow-like body and smiled.<br /><br />
<br /><br />
Lily smiled back at him.<br /><br />
<br /><br />
And with that morning ritual complete, Benjamin unfolded his long limbs and rose to his feet as deep breaths entered and left his lungs.<br /><br />
<br /><br />
He was ready to face another day.</p><br />
|Title=Roleplay from Benjamin Pryde<br />
|Signature=}}<br />
{{BMMessage<br />
|Width=80<br />
|Type=Roleplay<br />
|Sent=Sat Aug 19, 2023 17:59:43<br />
|Sender=Juste Lamphear|Recipients=Message sent to all nobles of Perdan (18 recipients)<br />
|Content=<p>Juste: Prelude to the Ball</p><br />
<br />
<p>As the soft rolling of thunder called from far over the Lion's Roar, Sir Juste cracks a small grin as he hears the mumbled unison of his archers saying, "Thank you, Magnus." Immediately, they were followed up by Advisor Donald whom, sitting across from Sir Juste in their buggy, laughs heartily, "Thank ye, indeed Magnus!"</p><br />
<br />
<p>It was tradition. Every kid who grew up around Juste's family, or more specifically around ol' uncle Donnie Macfinnleigh knew all about his service to Peregrine Kay. More specifically, they got to hear about the brave men and women that Donald fought alongside. On and on did the old warrior rant and rave about his secret battalion, the Blood Spirits, led by the Mighty Birgitta Drexel, otherwise known as the Dragon Mother. The tales, high as the mountains, are told about her incredible reflexes and the complete domination she had over a battlefield. And always at her six o'clock was the Brazen Duncan Mackenzie, who single-handedly held off an entire charge with a broken sword and a soft parry.</p><br />
<br />
<p>"A sof' parry's when ye've nothin' te defend yerself with but a grip on yer cloak!" Donald would always recall with great enthusiasm, much to the delight of the children. Of course, Donald was never shy to regale the kids with his berserk fighting style, shouting and ranting with a woad-painted face. But the greatest hero of them all was Magnus Zero. The White Paladin. Legend has it that Magnus could land a blow from his mace whose thunderous impact against steel and bone would beckon the lightning to respond in kind. So naturally, every kid who grew up hearing about Magnus clung to the tradition that somewhere beyond the veil, Magnus was fighting in an eternal battle. And whenever you hear thunder, it was because he had struck one of his booming strikes. Thunder meant that he was protecting us all, and so Juste, as well as each man and woman that follows him, would thank Magnus after each roll of thunder.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Donnie's tales of valour and heroes were just that, though. Tales. Juste learned the truth when he was almost a teenager, but to this day has never allowed Donnie to let on that he knew. Unfortunately, while Birgitta, Duncan, and Magnus were all real soldiers, they all also died before even getting a chance to step onto the field. It was a night raid that struck against a tower they were garrisoned in. The enemy used a vile black power that blew the base of the tower, causing the debris to crash onto Donald and his team, leaving Donald with nothing but empty memories and half a left leg. The reality of war is that it is brutal, savage, and disastrous to not only the land but the human psyche. Forevermore was Donald changed after one night. A soldier whom had never seen the battlefield was discharged due to his injuries. So he makes it all up. All the stories, the heroes, and the shining moments. Every facade finds itself reflected in a thousand-yard stare with each crack of thunder he hears, only for him to smile and thank his fallen brother. How else would he cope with the echoes that haunt him?</p><br />
<br />
<p>-</p><br />
<br />
<p>"Donnae lie ta me laddie, yer sweet on the Briarwood girl, ain't ye? I knew 'er father ya know! 'at Man's one of the best. Tha' would be a proud family ta marry into!"</p><br />
<br />
<p>Juste responded with a shake of his head but also a short laugh. "Attending the Ball is my way of supporting Perdan and showing my allegiance. I've no intentions to woo Dame Lilyana."</p><br />
<br />
<p>"Ha! Well foine! Oi'll step in 'n swoop 'er off 'er feet me damn self! Ain't a dame across the 'ole con'inent that wouldn't swoon o'er a Macfinnleigh!"</p><br />
<br />
<p>Ignoring the old vet, Juste rests his head on his knuckles as he gazes idly out of the window. The patter of light rain dots the glass, falling from under looming grey skies in the far North. He didn't lie to Donald, but that didn't mean that Dame Lilyana wasn't on his mind. He had never formally met her, but she still existed as an enigma in his head, constantly acting as a mental puzzle to be pieced together. Another gentle roll of thunder fills the air as Juste re-reads his invitation letter one more time.</p><br />
<br />
<p>"Thank you, Magnus." Is murmured from the archers.</p><br />
<br />
<p>"Thank ye, Magnus!" Shouted out by the Advisor.</p><br />
<br />
<p>"Thank you, Magnus." Said softly by the Knight, who watched the excitement of his companion fall and breathed as the seconds turn into hours.</p><br />
<br />
|Title=Roleplay from Juste Lamphear<br />
|Signature=}}</div>Marcus Daubenyhttps://wiki.battlemaster.org/index.php?title=Briarwood_Family/Liliyana/Prelude_to_the_Ball&diff=218313Briarwood Family/Liliyana/Prelude to the Ball2023-08-19T10:59:07Z<p>Marcus Daubeny: Created page with " {{BMMessage |Width=80 |Type=Roleplay |Sent=Sat Aug 19, 2023 06:58:39 |Sender=Lilyana Briarwood|Recipients=Message sent to all nobles of Perdan (18 recipients) |Content=<p>Lil..."</p>
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<div><br />
{{BMMessage<br />
|Width=80<br />
|Type=Roleplay<br />
|Sent=Sat Aug 19, 2023 06:58:39<br />
|Sender=Lilyana Briarwood|Recipients=Message sent to all nobles of Perdan (18 recipients)<br />
|Content=<p>Lilyana: Prelude to the Ball</p><br />
<br />
<p>In the heart of her secluded sanctuary, Lilyana found herself nestled within the walls of her writing room. It was a chamber that bore an air of enchantment, nestled under a low-roofed ceiling that seemed to cradle secrets whispered by the stars themselves. The walls, painted in deep hues of blackened purple, bore a sombre elegance that contrasted with the wild remnants of dead vines and thorns that clung to them as if unwilling to release their grasp on the world. Yet, despite this sombre façade, the walls were framed with trimmings of white marble, and the floors beneath her feet gleamed in the polished sheen of dark red wood.</p><br />
<br />
<p>A gentle smile graced Lilyana's lips as she lowered a delicate piece of parchment, a missive adorned with the graceful handwriting of Lady Isana Everlight. With a flourish, the lady's signature joined the ranks of illustrious guests slated to grace the impending ball.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Amidst the grandeur of names that graced the parchment, her heart swelled with a poignant sense of familiarity. These were not just names; they were echoes of stories spun by her father, tales that wove the tapestry of the Great Perdanese Nobility. Benjamin Pryde, Isana Everlight, names both radiant and enduring, the Goldwaters and Calders, bearing the weight of courage and honour. Even those whose names eluded her, she knew their essence, the resonant harmonies of their family lines, yet amidst these storied narratives, there existed an uncharted entity – Lamphear. A name unfamiliar to her, a house uncharted in her father's tales. But it was not a void that bred discomfort; rather, it was the unknown that kindled a spark of intrigue within her chest. Ser Juste, the herald of this uncharted realm, had accepted her invitation.</p><br />
<br />
<p>With a delicate grace, Lilyana turned her gaze to another parchment, one bearing the seal of Duke Tsingu Orobar. The words flowed like a river, their currents leading her through the Duke's discourse. A pause, a breath suspended, her fingers reached for slender glasses, their dark frames perching gently upon her nose as she ventured to the scribe's warning. A chuckle, a soft symphony, cascaded from her lips, its resonance woven with mirth and understanding. The Duke, it seemed, carried a reputation that extended beyond his princely title - a would-be seducer.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Summoning a silver bell from her desk, its chime resonated through the chamber twice, beckoning a servant clad in the house's signature black and purple livery. His presence was a shadow materializing within her sanctum, poised and ready to heed her command.</p><br />
<br />
<p>"What is your desire, ma'am?" the servant inquired with deference.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Lilyana turned her gaze over her shoulder, the depths of her burgundy eyes catching the candlelight's shimmer. "What do thee know of Duke Orobar?"</p><br />
<br />
<p>The servant paused, the cogs of his mind whirring before forming words. "A man of sixty-four winters, known for his curt speech and irascible temperament. He adheres to the hierarchy and is appreciative of feminine beauty."</p><br />
<br />
<p>A hint of a pout tugged at Lilyana's lips. "An age-worn member of the peerage indeed," she mused cryptically, her voice a caress of a soft enigma. "Thank thee for thy insight."</p><br />
<br />
<p>The servant dipped his head, withdrawing to leave her solitude unbroken. As the door closed, Lilyana's fingers danced across the list of attendees.</p><br />
<br />
<p>She rose from her desk and crossed the room to a door of dark brown wood. Opening it, she unveiled a chamber of opulent dreams. Walls of royal purple accented by white marble framed a cathedral ceiling adorned with a tapestry of stars. Beluaterran crystal chandeliers cast celestial light that transformed painted stars into twinkling constellations.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Drawing a deep breath, Lilyana faced the mirror beside her desk. Her appearance was simple elegance - raven hair and burgundy eyes, a buxom figure that exuded grace, though she noted the plainness of her simple spun gown, unfit for the peerage. She regarded herself with a solemn mien.</p><br />
<br />
<p>A strange and mystical necklace found its place around her throat, a poignant reminder of the path she walked. As her fingers brushed its surface, she acknowledged the mandate her father had bestowed - to find a suitor. It was a duty she accepted and one she had delayed long enough to earn his ire.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Her resolve fortified, Lilyana approached the dresser, her fingers caressing the fabrics that held her history and future. Amidst the whisper of silk and the rustle of lace, she began the delicate decision of selecting the attire that would render her radiant amidst the noble guests.</p><br />
<br />
|Title=Roleplay from Lilyana Briarwood<br />
|Signature=}}</div>Marcus Daubenyhttps://wiki.battlemaster.org/index.php?title=Briarwood_Family/Liliyana&diff=218312Briarwood Family/Liliyana2023-08-19T07:20:37Z<p>Marcus Daubeny: </p>
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<div>[[File:lilyana_Briarwood.jpg]]<br />
<br />
{{Quotation| May the winds of fate guide you well come daybreak.|Lilyana Briarwood}}<br />
<br />
As the eldest child of Morgyn and Elias Briarwood, her very existence was a surprise, born on the night her parents consummated their wedding, catching the young nobles off-guard. They had not expected parenthood so soon, and Lilyana's arrival brought both joy and trepidation.<br />
<br />
As an infant, Lilyana was a fussy and difficult baby, the complete opposite of the serene and composed woman she would grow into. Yet, as the years passed, she transformed into an enigma, marked by her peculiar way of speaking and an unwavering calmness about her, regardless of the circumstances.<br />
<br />
Throughout her childhood, she exhibited unusual behaviours that set her apart from her peers. Often, she would be found in the family's garden, softly singing to herself, claiming she sang for their ancestors. Her passion for singing and dancing was evident, but she displayed no interest in learning the art of combat, a stark contrast to her cousin Zayn, who pursued martial skills ardently.<br />
<br />
Beyond her mysterious nature, Lilyana's heart brimmed with adoration for her younger siblings. She played an active role in raising and teaching them, cherishing their presence and offering them unwavering support and love.<br />
<br />
On her fifteenth birthday, Lilyana graced her family with a mesmerizing performance that brought tears to the eyes of everyone present, except for her younger sister Gwendolyn, who remained unfeeling and emotionless, an enigma of her own.<br />
<br />
In her later teen years, Lilyana's alluring personality and appearance attracted numerous suitors, but she skillfully evaded any marital arrangements, preferring her independence. While many were captivated by her flirtatious and provocative manner, she remained elusive, keeping her heart guarded.<br />
<br />
To prepare her for the responsibilities that came with being the heir of the Briarwood House, Lilyana underwent rigorous tutelage. She delved into the intricacies of finances, honed her leadership skills to command troops, and learned the nuances of high society. This, however, ruffled the feathers of her cousin Zayn, who believed he should have been the rightful heir as the eldest male.<br />
<br />
At the age of twenty-four, an unfortunate event led to a falling out with Zayn. In a drunken tirade, he spewed insults and vile words at Lilyana, branding her as a witless whore and other such insults. Remarkably, Lilyana retained her composure, never losing her small, polite smile in the face of his aggression. However, the situation escalated when her younger sister Gwendolyn challenged Zayn to a duel in defence of Lilyana's honour.<br />
<br />
Seeing her sister's life at stake, Lilyana grew deeply worried for Gwendolyn. Nevertheless, Gwendolyn proved to be a formidable opponent, shocking the family by easily defeating Zayn and severing three fingers from his dominant sword hand.<br />
<br />
In the aftermath of the duel, Lilyana's attempts to speak with Gwendolyn were met with aloofness, causing her considerable distress and heartache. Unbeknownst to her, Gwendolyn had set off on a journey to Dwilight, leaving behind only an air of mystery.<br />
<br />
Undeterred by the absence of her sister, Lilyana focused on the well-being of Prospero Square and her noble duties. With grace and dedication, she assumed the role of the Dame of Aix, ascending the ranks of Perdan's nobility and embracing whatever challenges fate would present.<br />
<br />
==Roleplays==<br />
*[[/A Ball in Prospero/]]<br />
*[[/Clearing Clermont/]]<br />
*[[/Prelude to the Ball/]]<br />
*[[/The Ball of Thorns/]]</div>Marcus Daubenyhttps://wiki.battlemaster.org/index.php?title=Briarwood_Family&diff=218311Briarwood Family2023-08-19T07:20:13Z<p>Marcus Daubeny: </p>
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<div>{{RightTOC}}<br />
{{Infobox Family|40653}}<br />
<br />
The Briarwood family are an enigmatic family that dwells in the city of [[Aix]] in the Kingdom of [[Perdan]].<br />
<br />
==House of Thorns==<br />
House Briarwood, a captivating new addition to the aristocracy of the City of Aix, resides majestically within the enchanting environs of Prospero Square. Their legacy is veiled in enigma, giving rise to whispers and speculation among the city's social circles. Their banner, an emblematic white-winged elk gracing a field of black, accented by a striking purple chevron, exudes an air of elegance and mystery.<br />
<br />
The house's cryptic words, "We were, we are, we will be," tantalize the imagination, leaving many to interpret their meaning. Some believe it to be a reminder of their long-standing lineage, spanning generations, while others view it as an affirmation of the family's determination to withstand the test of time, forever enduring and evolving.<br />
<br />
Notably, this enigmatic family is known for their penchant for mysticism and esoteric knowledge. Whispers of ancient prophecies and forgotten secrets surround the Briarwoods, suggesting that their ancestors were keepers of hidden wisdom. As their prestige grows, so does their influence, extending their reach to the continents of Dwilight and Beluaterra. The prospect of their children venturing beyond the City of Aix to explore these distant lands only adds to the fascination surrounding the family.<br />
<br />
The family's mysterious past is shrouded in secrecy, with legends suggesting that they possess a forgotten connection to an ancient civilization that predates the founding of Aix itself. Some even whisper that they have access to a hidden realm where time flows differently, granting them extended lifespans and arcane wisdom.<br />
<br />
Regardless of the speculations surrounding Noble House Briarwood, one cannot deny their allure and magnetism in the City of Aix. Their rise to prominence and their enigmatic demeanour have sparked curiosity and fascination among both nobles and commoners alike.<br />
<br />
==Members of the Briarwood Family==<br />
===Liliyana Briarwood===<br />
[[/Liliyana/]] is the eldest daughter of Morgyn and Elias Briarwood, beautiful, calm and graceful, sharing her family's cryptic speech. Currently a Dame of [[Aix]] in the Kingdom of [[Perdan]].<br />
<br />
===Gwendolyn Briarwood ===<br />
[[/Gwendolyn /]] is the second eldest daughter of Morgyn and Elias Briarwood. Emotionless, blunt, and with a skill at arms unmatched by her siblings, she shares her family's cryptic speech. Currently a Knight of [[Giask]] in the Ascdenacy of [[Luria Nova]].<br />
<br />
===Malachi Briarwood ===<br />
[[/Malachi/]] is the only son of Morgyn and Elias Briarwood. Quiet, perceptive and quick to act. Currently the Senator of [[Tindle]] in the Kingdom of [[Nothoi]]<br />
<br />
[[Category: Families]]</div>Marcus Daubenyhttps://wiki.battlemaster.org/index.php?title=Briarwood_Family/Malachi&diff=218310Briarwood Family/Malachi2023-08-19T07:19:33Z<p>Marcus Daubeny: </p>
<hr />
<div>[[File:Malachi_Briarwood.jpg]]<br />
<br />
{{Quotation| May the winds of fate find you to victory and glory.|Malachi Briarwood}}<br />
<br />
Malachi Briarwood, the scion of the noble Briarwood family, possessed a striking presence with his dark greyish-black hair, pale silver eyes, and lean, athletic build. From an early age, he exhibited the enigmatic nature characteristic of his family. As a baby, he was fussy and difficult, much like his older sister Lilyana, and later on, he displayed a similar temperament as his sister Gwendolyn.<br />
<br />
Throughout his childhood, Malachi displayed a mix of ordinary and peculiar behaviours. He spent days playing pretend with the boys, using sticks as wooden swords, and riding horses with an unmatched passion. Yet, he was also known to wander alone into the woods, gazing into the depths with an unnatural focus that intrigued those around him. <br />
<br />
Throughout his formative years, Malachi relied on the unwavering support of his sisters. His parents, often harsh and demanding, placed higher expectations on him compared to his siblings. However, Lilyana became his pillar of strength, helping him navigate the struggles of his training and childhood. Despite their parents' wishes, Malachi couldn't avoid the comparisons drawn between him and his sisters.<br />
<br />
Malachi's interests were multifaceted, trying to bridge the gap between his sisters' preferences. He developed a love for singing and dancing, hoping to connect with Lilyana, who revelled in the arts. Simultaneously, he nurtured a strong desire to learn the art of combat, aligning himself with Gwendolyn's penchant for fighting and swordplay.<br />
<br />
On his 14th birthday, he embarked on a fateful hunting trip with his cousins Petyr and Zephyr without their parent's approval. The outing turned into a tragedy when their close friend, Martin, a dedicated hunter in the service of the Briarwoods, lost his life. Malachi blamed himself for the incident, as the shadows of that day haunted him, and both Petyr and Zephyr shared a heavy burden of secrets, leaving their relationship with Malachi forever altered.<br />
<br />
Despite his position as the only son, Malachi's education was minimal compared to his sisters. He learned finances, troop command, and the ways of high society by observing and listening to others' lessons, including Lilyana's. Never feeling a sense of entitlement to the family inheritance, he harboured complete faith and trust in Lilyana's capabilities, content with her being named the heir.<br />
<br />
As Gwendolyn embarked on her journey to join the Ascendancy of Luria Nova in Dwilight and Lilyana assumed the mantle of Dame of Aix, Malachi found himself grappling with uncertainty about his own future. He sought refuge in the presence of Lilyana, assisting her in her escapades and avoiding his parents as he tried to delay their plans of sending him away, cherishing every moment he spent with Lilyana. Their bond was unbreakable, and she became the guiding light through the darkness that threatened to envelop him, though he knew it would not last forever.<br />
<br />
And it didn't. <br />
<br />
Upon his return from the distant region of Clermont, the air hung heavy with apprehension as Malachi Briarwood stepped onto the familiar grounds of his ancestral home. What should have been a homecoming of joy turned into a nightmarish ordeal as he was set upon by his father's guards, who showed him no mercy. Their blows rained down upon him, senseless and brutal, until he was barely recognizable, his body a canvas of bruises and brokenness.<br />
<br />
Soon after, his battered form was dragged aboard a ship bound for the distant continent of Beluaterra. The path was as treacherous as the uncertainty that awaited him, for he was destined to replace his exiled cousin Zayn as the Briarwood of Beluaterra. Zayn's fate had been sealed in the aftermath of a fateful duel with Gwendolyn, and now Malachi was to step into his shoes, a heavy burden atop the physical and emotional scars he carried.<br />
<br />
Arriving in the realm of Nothoi, a land utterly foreign to him, Malachi found a semblance of respite in the tranquil city of Reeds. However, his journey took an unexpected turn as he ventured south, meeting the unexpected resistance of the peasants of Tindle. A dramatic encounter unfolded as these fervent souls proclaimed him their Lord and Senator, breaking away from the realm of Vordul Sanguinis to forge their own destiny under his banner.<br />
<br />
Suddenly thrust into a role he neither sought nor fully comprehended, Malachi found himself entangled in a web of political intrigue. The title of Senator was bestowed upon him in a region he had not known before, within a realm whose intricacies eluded his understanding. He was surrounded by strangers, each with their own ambitions and allegiances, and he found himself navigating through the convoluted currents of a realm steeped in complexity.<br />
<br />
As he assumed the mantle of lordship and leadership, Malachi faced a steep learning curve. The weight of his new responsibilities pressed upon him, but there was a resilience within him that matched the resilience of his family's legacy. Slowly, he began to adapt to the challenges of his role. Though the journey was fraught with uncertainty, he displayed a steady determination to make sense of his surroundings and to uphold the honor of the Briarwood name.<br />
<br />
Despite the abruptness of his entanglement in the world of political machinations, Malachi proved himself adaptable and resolute. He forged ahead, guided by the love for his family, the lessons he had learned, and the strength that lay within him. As he navigated the intricate dance of lordship and diplomacy to try and carve out a place of significance in the uncharted lands of Beluaterra.</div>Marcus Daubenyhttps://wiki.battlemaster.org/index.php?title=Briarwood_Family/Liliyana&diff=218309Briarwood Family/Liliyana2023-08-19T07:09:55Z<p>Marcus Daubeny: </p>
<hr />
<div>[[File:lilyana_Briarwood.jpg]]<br />
<br />
{{Quotation| May the winds of fate guide you well come daybreak.|Lilyana Briarwood}}<br />
<br />
As the eldest child of Morgyn and Elias Briarwood, her very existence was a surprise, born on the night her parents consummated their wedding, catching the young nobles off-guard. They had not expected parenthood so soon, and Lilyana's arrival brought both joy and trepidation.<br />
<br />
As an infant, Lilyana was a fussy and difficult baby, the complete opposite of the serene and composed woman she would grow into. Yet, as the years passed, she transformed into an enigma, marked by her peculiar way of speaking and an unwavering calmness about her, regardless of the circumstances.<br />
<br />
Throughout her childhood, she exhibited unusual behaviours that set her apart from her peers. Often, she would be found in the family's garden, softly singing to herself, claiming she sang for their ancestors. Her passion for singing and dancing was evident, but she displayed no interest in learning the art of combat, a stark contrast to her cousin Zayn, who pursued martial skills ardently.<br />
<br />
Beyond her mysterious nature, Lilyana's heart brimmed with adoration for her younger siblings. She played an active role in raising and teaching them, cherishing their presence and offering them unwavering support and love.<br />
<br />
On her fifteenth birthday, Lilyana graced her family with a mesmerizing performance that brought tears to the eyes of everyone present, except for her younger sister Gwendolyn, who remained unfeeling and emotionless, an enigma of her own.<br />
<br />
In her later teen years, Lilyana's alluring personality and appearance attracted numerous suitors, but she skillfully evaded any marital arrangements, preferring her independence. While many were captivated by her flirtatious and provocative manner, she remained elusive, keeping her heart guarded.<br />
<br />
To prepare her for the responsibilities that came with being the heir of the Briarwood House, Lilyana underwent rigorous tutelage. She delved into the intricacies of finances, honed her leadership skills to command troops, and learned the nuances of high society. This, however, ruffled the feathers of her cousin Zayn, who believed he should have been the rightful heir as the eldest male.<br />
<br />
At the age of twenty-four, an unfortunate event led to a falling out with Zayn. In a drunken tirade, he spewed insults and vile words at Lilyana, branding her as a witless whore and other such insults. Remarkably, Lilyana retained her composure, never losing her small, polite smile in the face of his aggression. However, the situation escalated when her younger sister Gwendolyn challenged Zayn to a duel in defence of Lilyana's honour.<br />
<br />
Seeing her sister's life at stake, Lilyana grew deeply worried for Gwendolyn. Nevertheless, Gwendolyn proved to be a formidable opponent, shocking the family by easily defeating Zayn and severing three fingers from his dominant sword hand.<br />
<br />
In the aftermath of the duel, Lilyana's attempts to speak with Gwendolyn were met with aloofness, causing her considerable distress and heartache. Unbeknownst to her, Gwendolyn had set off on a journey to Dwilight, leaving behind only an air of mystery.<br />
<br />
Undeterred by the absence of her sister, Lilyana focused on the well-being of Prospero Square and her noble duties. With grace and dedication, she assumed the role of the Dame of Aix, ascending the ranks of Perdan's nobility and embracing whatever challenges fate would present.<br />
<br />
==Roleplays==<br />
*[[/A Ball in Prospero/]]<br />
*[[/Clearing Clermont/]]<br />
*[[/Prelude to the Ball/]]<br />
*[[The Ball of Thorns/]]</div>Marcus Daubenyhttps://wiki.battlemaster.org/index.php?title=Briarwood_Family/Gwendolyn/Briarmarch,_Fufilled&diff=218283Briarwood Family/Gwendolyn/Briarmarch, Fufilled2023-08-15T06:59:56Z<p>Marcus Daubeny: Created page with "{{BMMessage |Width=80 |Type=Roleplay |Sent=Tue Aug 15, 2023 02:59:27 |Sender=Gwendolyn Briarwood|Recipients=Message sent to all nobles of Luria Nova (24 recipients) |Content=<..."</p>
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<div>{{BMMessage<br />
|Width=80<br />
|Type=Roleplay<br />
|Sent=Tue Aug 15, 2023 02:59:27<br />
|Sender=Gwendolyn Briarwood|Recipients=Message sent to all nobles of Luria Nova (24 recipients)<br />
|Content=<p><strong><u>Gwendolyn: Briarmarch, Fulfilled.</u></strong><br />
<p>The morning sun cast a golden hue across the land as the Sentinels of the Golden Palace advanced, their armour glinting with an almost ethereal radiance. At the head of the formation strode Lady Gwendolyn, her steps measured and deliberate, her gaze fixed ahead. She wore an ornate suit of armour, intricately designed, but her presence was devoid of any vanity or ostentation. Her face, serene and inscrutable, revealed no trace of emotion.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Silently, Gwendolyn led her men across the bridge that marked the entrance to the region of Orz. Behind her, Captain Sevoria, her second in command, grinned with a touch of anticipation. "The beasts are rushing us already," she laughed, her voice carrying a vibrancy that contrasted sharply with Gwendolyn's demeanour. "Look to the west, they move with the grace of a one-legged ogre."</p><br />
<br />
<p>Gwendolyn's response was a simple lifting of her hand, an unspoken command. The soldiers pivoted, shifting their formation to face the west, preparing to charge.</p><br />
<br />
<p>As Gwendolyn drew her sword, a shimmering silver blade that seemed to catch the sun's rays and turn them into liquid light, the Sentinels shifted seamlessly into a wedge formation, with Gwendolyn at the tip of the formation. In the distance, a thunderous rhythm began to build, the pounding of dozens of monstrous feet. Gwendolyn's voice rang out, flat and unyielding: "Advance."</p><br />
<br />
<p>The early morning air resonated with an ominous symphony of impending conflict. The horde of beasts came barreling towards the Sentinels, their growls and snarls merging into a cacophonous crescendo. Then, with a sudden burst of sound, Gwendolyn and her unit charged forward, an indomitable force against the tide of monsters. The Sentinels collided with the beasts, catching them off guard, their charge blunted by the sheer momentum and ferocity of the Sentinel's advance.</p><br />
<br />
<p>The clash was brutal and swift. A clash of steel against scales, the screams of men, the roars of beasts. Red blood and dark ichor mingled on the battlefield, the ground beneath their feet becoming a canvas of violence. Gwendolyn moved like a phantom through the chaos, her blade a swift and lethal extension of her will, cutting down beasts and leaving shattered lines in her wake. The Sentinels surged forward, their ranks pushing back the encroaching horde.</p><br />
<br />
<p>The melee persisted for nearly half an hour, a relentless dance of death and survival. And then, as the last of the beasts fell dead at Gwendolyn's feet, she withdrew her shimmering silver blade from a fallen monster's skull. Her eyes swept across the battlefield, taking in the sight of fallen foes. None had escaped.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Cheers erupted from the Sentinels and Captain Sevoria. They celebrated their victory, shouting triumphantly that the day was theirs. The captain approached Gwendolyn, a triumphant smile on her face. "My lady, you don't look happy. Come join the cheer. This day is ours." Gwendolyn turned her gaze upon Sevoria, her sapphire eyes as enigmatic as ever. "This day belongs to no one living," she cryptically stated, her voice devoid of inflection. With that, she began to clean her sword, her attention already moving beyond the battlefield.</p><br />
<br />
<p>As the soldiers dispersed to attend to the grim task of burning the beastly bodies, Gwendolyn allowed herself a rare moment of reprieve. She exhaled softly, and a faint smile touched her lips For the first time in a long time, she looked up at the sun, its warmth caressing her face. The wind played with her long black hair, and her sapphire eyes sparkled with a fleeting light.</p><br />
<br />
<p>"Briarmarch. Fulfill. Rest now, your souls are released," she murmured softly, her words carried away by the wind.</p><br />
<br />
<p>A sudden gust stirred around her, and Gwendolyn's smile faded. She glanced over her shoulder at the departing Sentinels, her thoughts hidden behind her inscrutable facade. Walking to her horse, she began to write a letter to the Heliacal, her steed's saddle serving as her impromptu writing desk. When the missive was complete, she sealed it and summoned a servant to send it to the Heliacal.</p><br />
<br />
<p>With her duty fulfilled, Gwendolyn walked to a nearby rock and seated herself, her eyes closing slowly as she hummed a quiet tune, Gwendolyn's humming carried on the wind, a fragile melody that wafted through the aftermath of the battle. It was serene, almost otherworldly in its tranquillity as if the notes themselves held the secret to an ancient, forgotten song. Yet, beneath the surface of that soothing sound, there was a hollowness that seemed to echo with the void she felt within herself. The notes resonated like chimes in an empty hall, creating an eerie harmony. </p><br />
<br />
<p>And for just a moment, Gwendolyn let her song carry her sorrow, the pain of a cold and hollow heart.</p><br />
</p><br />
|Title=Roleplay from Gwendolyn Briarwood<br />
|Signature=}}</div>Marcus Daubenyhttps://wiki.battlemaster.org/index.php?title=Briarwood_Family/Gwendolyn&diff=218282Briarwood Family/Gwendolyn2023-08-15T06:47:55Z<p>Marcus Daubeny: </p>
<hr />
<div>[[File:Gwendolyn_Briarwood.jpg]]<br />
<br />
{{Quotation| May the winds of fate find thee well, come the eventide.|Gwendolyn Briarwood}}<br />
<br />
Born as the second eldest child to Morgyn and Elias Briarwood, her arrival into the world was marred by an eerie silence, causing her family to believe her life had slipped away. Yet, Gwendolyn defied expectations from the start, exuding a tranquillity unusual for a newborn, unlike her older sister Lilyana and younger brother Malachi, who often wailed and fussed.<br />
<br />
Throughout her childhood, Gwendolyn's peculiarities only intensified, creating an aura of mystique around her. She was often caught lost in thought, staring into the distance in the strangest of places as if gazing at unseen realms. Instead of embracing the usual feminine pursuits of her family, she took a keen interest in combat and duelling, following the footsteps of her older cousin Zayn rather than her sister Lilyana's passion for singing and dancing.<br />
<br />
On her sixteenth birthday, Elias gifted her a sword, an acknowledgment of her unconventional desires. From then on, she immersed herself in rigorous training, dedicating countless hours to mastering the art of the blade. Gwendolyn's skill with the sword was astonishing, and she became known for her grace when fighting.<br />
<br />
As she entered her later teen years, Gwendolyn displayed a lack of interest in romantic entanglements and dismissed the numerous flirtations and marriage proposals she received, regardless of the suitor's gender. Her indifference to societal norms further intensified the rumours surrounding her enigmatic nature.<br />
<br />
At the age of nineteen, a fateful event led to a dramatic falling out with her cousin Zayn. Intoxicated and spiteful, Zayn hurled vile insults at Lilyana, degrading her with cruel words. Fueled by her duty to her sister and a sense of justice, Gwendolyn demanded a duel with Zayn, challenging him to account for his actions. To the astonishment of her family and a gathered crowd at Prospero Square in [[Aix]], she easily bested him, disarming him by cutting off three fingers from his dominant hand. <br />
<br />
In a chilling display of cold indifference, she rebuked Zayn, exposing the long-held family secret of his birth, branding him an unworthy Briarwood and a bastard child, shattering his and his father Asher's reputation in the public eye.<br />
<br />
In the wake of the tumultuous confrontation, Gwendolyn became reclusive, distancing herself from her family. She appeared only when summoned by her father, displaying a cold detachment from her family which hurt her sister and brother. <br />
<br />
When Elias decided to send her to Dwilight to expand the family's influence in Luria Nova, she accepted the order without hesitation, seemingly unaffected by the prospect of leaving her home behind. She left her ancestral home in Aix behind and set forth on a journey to the continent of Dwilight. She arrived in the illustrious Ascendancy of Luria Nova and found her place as a Dame of the City of Giask, residing in its golden palace, far from the gossip and expectations of her former life.<br />
<br />
==Tales of the Dane of Gask==<br />
<br />
*[[/Training in Giask/]]<br />
*[[/A Chance at Glory/]]<br />
*[[/From Askileon, to Glory/]]<br />
*[[/Night before the Slaughter/]]<br />
*[[/The Battle of Ciarin Tut/]]<br />
*[[/Briarmarch/]]<br />
*[[/The Slaughter/]]<br />
*[[/On the Road to Glory Again/]]<br />
*[[/Briarmarch, Fufilled/]]</div>Marcus Daubenyhttps://wiki.battlemaster.org/index.php?title=Briarwood_Family/Gwendolyn&diff=218281Briarwood Family/Gwendolyn2023-08-15T06:47:28Z<p>Marcus Daubeny: </p>
<hr />
<div>[[File:Gwendolyn_Briarwood.jpg]]<br />
<br />
{{Quotation| May the winds of fate find thee well, come the eventide.|Gwendolyn Briarwood}}<br />
<br />
Born as the second eldest child to Morgyn and Elias Briarwood, her arrival into the world was marred by an eerie silence, causing her family to believe her life had slipped away. Yet, Gwendolyn defied expectations from the start, exuding a tranquillity unusual for a newborn, unlike her older sister Lilyana and younger brother Malachi, who often wailed and fussed.<br />
<br />
Throughout her childhood, Gwendolyn's peculiarities only intensified, creating an aura of mystique around her. She was often caught lost in thought, staring into the distance in the strangest of places as if gazing at unseen realms. Instead of embracing the usual feminine pursuits of her family, she took a keen interest in combat and duelling, following the footsteps of her older cousin Zayn rather than her sister Lilyana's passion for singing and dancing.<br />
<br />
On her sixteenth birthday, Elias gifted her a sword, an acknowledgment of her unconventional desires. From then on, she immersed herself in rigorous training, dedicating countless hours to mastering the art of the blade. Gwendolyn's skill with the sword was astonishing, and she became known for her grace when fighting.<br />
<br />
As she entered her later teen years, Gwendolyn displayed a lack of interest in romantic entanglements and dismissed the numerous flirtations and marriage proposals she received, regardless of the suitor's gender. Her indifference to societal norms further intensified the rumours surrounding her enigmatic nature.<br />
<br />
At the age of nineteen, a fateful event led to a dramatic falling out with her cousin Zayn. Intoxicated and spiteful, Zayn hurled vile insults at Lilyana, degrading her with cruel words. Fueled by her duty to her sister and a sense of justice, Gwendolyn demanded a duel with Zayn, challenging him to account for his actions. To the astonishment of her family and a gathered crowd at Prospero Square in [[Aix]], she easily bested him, disarming him by cutting off three fingers from his dominant hand. <br />
<br />
In a chilling display of cold indifference, she rebuked Zayn, exposing the long-held family secret of his birth, branding him an unworthy Briarwood and a bastard child, shattering his and his father Asher's reputation in the public eye.<br />
<br />
In the wake of the tumultuous confrontation, Gwendolyn became reclusive, distancing herself from her family. She appeared only when summoned by her father, displaying a cold detachment from her family which hurt her sister and brother. <br />
<br />
When Elias decided to send her to Dwilight to expand the family's influence in Luria Nova, she accepted the order without hesitation, seemingly unaffected by the prospect of leaving her home behind. She left her ancestral home in Aix behind and set forth on a journey to the continent of Dwilight. She arrived in the illustrious Ascendancy of Luria Nova and found her place as a Dame of the City of Giask, residing in its golden palace, far from the gossip and expectations of her former life.<br />
<br />
==Tales of the Dane of Gask==<br />
<br />
*[[/Training in Giask/]]<br />
*[[/A Chance at Glory/]]<br />
*[[/From Askileon, to Glory/]]<br />
*[[/Night before the Slaughter/]]<br />
*[[/The Battle of Ciarin Tut/]]<br />
*[[/Briarmarch/]]<br />
*[[/The Slaughter/]]<br />
*[[/On the Road to Glory Again/]]<br />
*[[/Briarmarch. Fufilled/]]</div>Marcus Daubenyhttps://wiki.battlemaster.org/index.php?title=Briarwood_Family/Gwendolyn/On_the_Road_to_Glory_Again&diff=218275Briarwood Family/Gwendolyn/On the Road to Glory Again2023-08-14T04:34:06Z<p>Marcus Daubeny: Created page with " {{BMMessage |Width=80 |Type=Roleplay |Sent=Mon Aug 14, 2023 00:32:13 |Sender=Gwendolyn Briarwood|Recipients=Message sent to all nobles of Luria Nova (24 recipients) |Content=..."</p>
<hr />
<div><br />
{{BMMessage<br />
|Width=80<br />
|Type=Roleplay<br />
|Sent=Mon Aug 14, 2023 00:32:13<br />
|Sender=Gwendolyn Briarwood|Recipients=Message sent to all nobles of Luria Nova (24 recipients)<br />
|Content=<p><u><strong>Gwendolyn: On the Road to Glory Again</strong></u></p><br />
<br />
<p>Amidst the rolling expanse of the countryside, Gwendolyn, riding upon a regal black steed called her unit to a brief halt, to allow the messenger rushing up to her to catch up. Her gaze remained fixed, piercing the horizon with an intensity unyielding. The wind ruffled her cloak, but not a strand of her raven hair dared to stray from its meticulous arrangement.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Gwendolyn reined her horse, eyes meeting breathless messenger as he approached. He extended a small bundle of letters. "Reports and Missives for m'lady," he gasps.</p><br />
<br />
<p>She reached out and took the bundle from the boy's hands, "Gratitude for thy haste, boy," she intones, gratitude veiled in enigmatic detachment.</p><br />
<br />
<p>In her gloved hand, she held the bundle, untying it and examining its contents, she picked out, a battle report detailing the prowess of the Heliacal. Her voice, devoid of sentiment, resonated with a hollow cadence as she spoke of the ruler's triumph over the beasts of Ciarin Tut. "By eventide, he shall have eradicated the beasts that slaughtered my men," her words emerged like carefully chiselled stone, firm and devoid of inflection.</p><br />
<br />
<p>A subtle exhale brushed past her lips, a sigh that carried no trace of emotion. She contemplated the emotions that a more prideful dame might experience—anger at denied vengeance, guilt for unavenged fallen comrades. But Gwendolyn, her visage an unyielding mask, acknowledged that she was unlike those knights and dames driven by pride, she felt nothing, like she always had.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Indifference dominated her thoughts. The beasts ravaging the realm would perish; that was the sole purpose she clung to now, for there were few other tasks for a knight to focus on with monsters abound. She deftly folded the parchment, its edges aligning perfectly, before presenting it to a waiting servant. "Put it away with the other missives," her directive was given with the same emotionless precision that marked her every utterance.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Behind her, a procession of men and women adorned in glistening gilded steel plate followed in disciplined formation. Their armour shimmered like a promise of unyielding resolve, while ornate glaives hung at their sides like silent sentinels. Gwendolyn's gaze traversed their ranks, alighting upon their leader, Captain Sevoria. A warrior hailing from Giask, Sevoria commanded the Sentinels of the Golden Palace—a name that resonated with both prestige and duty, though Gwendolyn had never heard of them before yesterday.</p><br />
<br />
<p>These warriors, supposed former city watch of Giask turned sellswords, had sought Gwendolyn upon hearing of her ascent to the position of Dame of the Golden Palace. The meeting had taken place on the outskirts of Askileon, and now they marched as a united force, flying the banner of Luria Nova, Giask and House Briarwood. Gwendolyn remarked quietly on the fortune that had delivered such valorous souls, contrasting it with the cowardice she had borne witness to among the Sallowtown Spearmen.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Elvira's image flickered across Gwendolyn's thoughts—a fleeting memory of another. But as quickly as it surfaced, she dismissed it with a detachment that mirrored her very essence. The question of Elvira's whereabouts was dismissed as irrelevant; Gwendolyn simply did not care, they had made their choice.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Her gaze shifted away from the horizon once again, focusing on Captain Sevoria. Her query hung in the air like a shard of crystal, clear and unambiguous. "How long until we reach Santoo?" The response was swift, Captain Sevoria raising her eyes to the sun's ascending glow. "We'll be there by sunset, my lady."</p><br />
<br />
<p>A curt nod acknowledged the answer, and Gwendolyn's attention drifted forward, toward the road that stretched ahead. "Good. We shall arrive in Orz with time to spare," she declared, her horse spurred into a steady gait as her retinue followed suit.</p><br />
<br />
<p>And as the sun climbed higher, its golden fingers touching the world around them, Gwendolyn rode forth—guided by purpose and driven by a singular focus, to cleanse the realm of Luria of every beast which sought its destruction, she promised nothing less to the Helical and she would give him nothing less.</p><br />
<br />
|Title=Roleplay from Gwendolyn Briarwood<br />
|Signature=}}</div>Marcus Daubenyhttps://wiki.battlemaster.org/index.php?title=Briarwood_Family/Gwendolyn&diff=218274Briarwood Family/Gwendolyn2023-08-14T04:33:53Z<p>Marcus Daubeny: </p>
<hr />
<div>[[File:Gwendolyn_Briarwood.jpg]]<br />
<br />
{{Quotation| May the winds of fate find thee well, come the eventide.|Gwendolyn Briarwood}}<br />
<br />
Born as the second eldest child to Morgyn and Elias Briarwood, her arrival into the world was marred by an eerie silence, causing her family to believe her life had slipped away. Yet, Gwendolyn defied expectations from the start, exuding a tranquillity unusual for a newborn, unlike her older sister Lilyana and younger brother Malachi, who often wailed and fussed.<br />
<br />
Throughout her childhood, Gwendolyn's peculiarities only intensified, creating an aura of mystique around her. She was often caught lost in thought, staring into the distance in the strangest of places as if gazing at unseen realms. Instead of embracing the usual feminine pursuits of her family, she took a keen interest in combat and duelling, following the footsteps of her older cousin Zayn rather than her sister Lilyana's passion for singing and dancing.<br />
<br />
On her sixteenth birthday, Elias gifted her a sword, an acknowledgment of her unconventional desires. From then on, she immersed herself in rigorous training, dedicating countless hours to mastering the art of the blade. Gwendolyn's skill with the sword was astonishing, and she became known for her grace when fighting.<br />
<br />
As she entered her later teen years, Gwendolyn displayed a lack of interest in romantic entanglements and dismissed the numerous flirtations and marriage proposals she received, regardless of the suitor's gender. Her indifference to societal norms further intensified the rumours surrounding her enigmatic nature.<br />
<br />
At the age of nineteen, a fateful event led to a dramatic falling out with her cousin Zayn. Intoxicated and spiteful, Zayn hurled vile insults at Lilyana, degrading her with cruel words. Fueled by her duty to her sister and a sense of justice, Gwendolyn demanded a duel with Zayn, challenging him to account for his actions. To the astonishment of her family and a gathered crowd at Prospero Square in [[Aix]], she easily bested him, disarming him by cutting off three fingers from his dominant hand. <br />
<br />
In a chilling display of cold indifference, she rebuked Zayn, exposing the long-held family secret of his birth, branding him an unworthy Briarwood and a bastard child, shattering his and his father Asher's reputation in the public eye.<br />
<br />
In the wake of the tumultuous confrontation, Gwendolyn became reclusive, distancing herself from her family. She appeared only when summoned by her father, displaying a cold detachment from her family which hurt her sister and brother. <br />
<br />
When Elias decided to send her to Dwilight to expand the family's influence in Luria Nova, she accepted the order without hesitation, seemingly unaffected by the prospect of leaving her home behind. She left her ancestral home in Aix behind and set forth on a journey to the continent of Dwilight. She arrived in the illustrious Ascendancy of Luria Nova and found her place as a Dame of the City of Giask, residing in its golden palace, far from the gossip and expectations of her former life.<br />
<br />
==Tales of the Dane of Gask==<br />
<br />
*[[/Training in Giask/]]<br />
*[[/A Chance at Glory/]]<br />
*[[/From Askileon, to Glory/]]<br />
*[[/Night before the Slaughter/]]<br />
*[[/The Battle of Ciarin Tut/]]<br />
*[[/Briarmarch/]]<br />
*[[/The Slaughter/]]<br />
*[[/On the Road to Glory Again/]]</div>Marcus Daubenyhttps://wiki.battlemaster.org/index.php?title=Briarwood_Family/Gwendolyn/The_Slaughter&diff=218261Briarwood Family/Gwendolyn/The Slaughter2023-08-11T18:44:14Z<p>Marcus Daubeny: </p>
<hr />
<div>{{BMMessage<br />
|Width=80<br />
|Type=Roleplay<br />
|Sent=Fri Aug 11, 2023 13:33:31<br />
|Sender=Gwendolyn Briarwood|Recipients=Message sent to all nobles of Luria Nova (24 recipients)<br />
|Content=<p><strong><u>Gwendolyn: The Slaughter (PT 1)</u></strong></p><br />
<br />
<p>Through the obsidian shroud of night, Lady Gwendolyn led the Blackshields across the bridge, her countenance devoid of the worry that was etched on the faces behind her. The Sallowtown Spearmen followed her, their unease cloaked by the darkness. The region of Garuck Udor lay under the shroud of night, an unsettling quiet reigning over the land, save for the distant thundering that rolled through the air like a premonition. </p><br />
<br />
<p>Advance," Gwendolyn commanded in a voice devoid of intonation, her flat gaze fixed on the darkness ahead. The soldiers moved in response, following her lead with obedient precision, the metal elk masks of the Blackshields casting eerie shadows as they stepped in unison across the bridge's worn stones.</p><br />
<br />
<p>To Gwendolyn's side stood Captain Elvira, her unease manifest in shaky words. "None can see aught in this darkness," Elvira murmured, her grip on her spear a white-knuckled testament to her apprehension. "Perhaps we should wait for dawn."</p><br />
<br />
<p>Gwendolyn's response was silence. She raised her hand, a gesture that halted her troops. The quiet night seemed to amplify the disquiet etching across the faces of the Sallowtown Spearmen, their eyes flickering with growing worry and fear. In contrast, the Blackshields stood resolute, their metal elk masks giving nothing away.</p><br />
<br />
<p>A distant rumbling grew louder, the sound of hooves thundering through the black expanse. Stillness hung in the air, broken only by the intensifying anticipation. Gwendolyn's orders sliced through the silence, sharp as a blade. "Ready. They come."</p><br />
<br />
<p>Abruptly, the air shattered, releasing monstrous screams that heralded a malevolent surge. As one, Gwendolyn and her unit charged into the abyss. A cacophonous clash ensued as men and beasts collided in a fury of violence. </p><br />
<br />
<p>In the chaos, Her movements were swift, precise, an intricate dance between life and death. But the sheer number of the creatures forced her to a defensive stance, her blade parrying blows, her body twisting away from claws that sought her life. The Blackshields bore the brunt, crushed by colossal beasts, while the spearmen fell before rending claws. Stumbling back Gwendolyn collided with Elvira. A retreat urged Elvira's nervousness to transform into screams. She lunged at a beast that swiped its claw in turn, an arm severed. Her agony echoing in the night, Elvira stumbled into Gwendolyn, who received a jarring blow to the chest in return. </p><br />
<br />
<p>The world slowed as Gwendolyn fell, a rib fracturing, consciousness waning. The battlefield was painted in red and darkness, the clashing of metal and beastly fury a symphony of violence, soldiers around her falling to shadows. Gwendolyn's ribs protested as she fell, coughing against the pain. She rolled, avoiding the weight of the creature's stamping foot, and then with a fluid motion, she rose into a crouch, her blade in hand.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Warhorns sounded in the distance, a clarion call to retreat. The Sallowtown Spearmen faltered, carrying an unconscious Elvira to safety. Two Blackshields pulled her back, their determination mingling with desperation. "Retreat, Lady Gwendolyn," one urged, his voice tense.</p><br />
<br />
<p>She shook her head, her gaze unyielding beneath her golden elk skull mask. The mask was wrenched from her face, and a scream pierced the air as the other Blackshield met his doom. Gwendolyn's stance remained unbroken as her eyes locked onto the towering creature leading the onslaught, its primal might unmatched threw the fallen man to the side.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Then, a forceful shove, and Gwendolyn tumbled onto the bridge, her gaze lifting to lock onto a towering beast.</p><br />
<br />
<p>The Blackshield who pushed her, consumed by vengeance, charged but was seized by the head by the beast, he slashed at its torso in futile effort as it seemed to snort in annoyance. The beast crushed the man's head, blood splattering from his hand to the ground as the Blackshield fell limp. Lifeless.</p><br />
<br />
<p>A fire ignited by the fallen torches, swallowed the dry grass, forming a barrier that separated Gwendolyn from the horde. Amidst the inferno, she found herself alone with a tall beast, its tribal tattoos marking it as a chiefling, the eldest son of the pack's leader. Flames danced in her sapphire eyes as her blade's silver light shone brighter.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Remembering the words of the Helical, Gwendolyn's lips moved eerily, her voice devoid of emotion. "Just... one... beast." Her eyes flickered with a faint glint as if reflecting some hidden purpose With an almost mechanical grace, she rose from her fallen position, the edges of her cloak trailing through the dust, gore and embers. There was no hesitation, no flicker of doubt. She stepped forward, into the path of the chiefling and whispered, "Your end beckons."</p><br />
<br />
|Title=Roleplay from Gwendolyn Briarwood<br />
|Signature=}}<br />
<br />
{{BMMessage<br />
|Width=80<br />
|Type=Roleplay<br />
|Sent=Fri Aug 11, 2023 14:02:48<br />
|Sender=Gwendolyn Briarwood|Recipients=Message sent to all nobles of Luria Nova (24 recipients)<br />
|Content=<p><strong><u>Gwendolyn: The Slaughter (PT 2)</u></strong></p><br />
<br />
<p> In the throes of the raging inferno, Gwendolyn stood as an immovable sentinel, her blade gleaming in the flickering flames. The fire's crackling roar masked the distant growls of the remaining horde, and in this newfound isolation, she prepared to face the chiefling.</p><br />
<br />
<p>A moment's pause, and then Gwendolyn exhaled, releasing tension with her breath. The blade held before her formed a barrier against the impending assault. Her eyelids lowered as if to close the world out, to focus solely on the dance that was about to unfold.</p><br />
<br />
<p>And then it began. The chiefling surged forward, its monstrous bulk a force to be reckoned with. Gwendolyn's eyes snapped open, her form coiled with readiness. She sidestepped with the grace of a dancer, evading the savage arc of the chiefling's swing. Swiftly, she moved past the creature, spinning on her heel like a whirlwind, her sword driven into its chest with unerring accuracy.</p><br />
<br />
<p>A roar erupted from the beast's maw, its agony echoing through the night. The chiefling spun in retaliation, its massive frame nearly unbalancing Gwendolyn. She reacted with a practised withdrawal, her blade cleaving free from the creature's flesh.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Rolling back with a sinuous grace, Gwendolyn distanced herself from the chiefling's crushing hooves. Her body's litheness seemed almost ethereal as it contorted to avoid the brute force of the chiefling's strikes.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Yet her actions held a calculated mockery, a dance of defiance. Flourishing her blade in a subtle taunt, she goaded the creature to charge once more, inviting its onslaught. It heeded the challenge, charging forward with primal determination. Yet, her nimble form danced around its attacks.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Swift as a breath, Gwendolyn surged forward, bypassing the chiefling's desperate swing, But as it tried to pivot to face her, the ground betrayed it, causing a stumble that ended in a fall. Gwendolyn seized the opportunity, retreating a step before launching herself forward in a whirl of motion. Her blade, an extension of her will, found its mark in the vulnerable throat of the fallen chiefling.</p><br />
<br />
<p>A gurgled howl escaped the beast's lips as the chiefling's lifeblood gushed, its final bellow resonating amidst the crackling flames as the chiefling's struggles subsided, its body convulsing in its death throes.<br /><br />
<br /><br />
Gwendolyn withdrew her blade, her gaze sweeping the field now illuminated by the inferno, to where another towering figure loomed. This creature, older and grizzled, bore the insignia of time etched into its braided beard, adorned with beads and bones. It seemed to hold a connection to the fallen chiefling, and its gaze bore an ancient weight.</p><br />
<br />
<p>The aged beast's gaze, riveted on the fallen chiefling, betrayed a connection. Gwendolyn's calculating eyes shifted between the two, grasping the unspoken truth—a father witnessing the demise of his son.</p><br />
<br />
<p>In an instant, Gwendolyn's blade arced through the air, severing the chiefling's head from its body. The roar of the horde intensified, an outraged symphony. With the severed head in hand, Gwendolyn gestured toward the pack, holding it aloft like a morbid trophy.<br /><br />
<br /><br />
Her cryptic words echoed across the battleground, her voice a stark contrast to the chaos that engulfed her. "I shall return for the rest of thy kin and the fates will cast thee to oblivion," she spoke, a vow whispered holding the faintest fragment of anger across the burning wind.</p><br />
<br />
<p>With that, her sword found its sheath, and her steps turned toward retreat. She traversed the bridge, the flames now a boundary between her and the horde. But just as the precipice of safety beckoned about halfway across, a sudden whooshing sound arrested her movement. Her instincts flared, and she twisted to face the unseen assailant.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Pain seared her side, a spear's cruel kiss. Stumbling backwards, Gwendolyn's sapphire eyes widened as she sought the source, only to find the chieftain staring back, his cold, red eyes penetrating the darkness.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Darkness encroached as Gwendolyn's vision blurred, the world falling away in fragments of fiery light. And as the final shreds of consciousness dissolved the final sound she heard was the triumphant roar of the pack, resonating through the night.</p><br />
<br />
|Title=Roleplay from Gwendolyn Briarwood<br />
|Signature=}}<br />
<br />
{{BMMessage<br />
|Width=80<br />
|Type=Roleplay<br />
|Sent=Fri Aug 11, 2023 14:39:28<br />
|Sender=Gwendolyn Briarwood|Recipients=Message sent to all nobles of Luria Nova (24 recipients)<br />
|Content=<p><strong><u>Gwendolyn: The Slaughter (PT 3)</u></strong></p><br />
<br />
<p>Gwendolyn awoke with a start. Her eyes snapped open, devoid of any sentiment, and she surged upright as though guided by unseen hands. A swift scan revealed her surroundings – a room draped in the embrace of ancient, darkened wood. The air was pregnant with the weight of unspoken secrets.</p><br />
<br />
<p> As her gaze danced around the space, Gwendolyn's attention was drawn to the form seated nearby. Captain Elvira, her unwavering second-in-command, bore the visible aftermath of the recent conflict. Bandages swathed her once-proud frame, concealing wounds both dire and telling. A jagged gash of darkness covered her left eye and wound its way across her head, The absence of her right arm was evident, the evidence concealed beneath layers of cloth.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Elvira's resentful sigh, an exhalation of smouldering emotions, was the first voice that met Gwendolyn's ears. "I was hoping you wouldn't wake up. You were out for two hours, the healers saved you, Lucky you," she intoned, the words heavy with a raw edge.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Rising lithely from her chair, Elvira approached Gwendolyn's bed. Gwendolyn sat up, her gaze fixed on the world with an otherworldly detachment. Bandages wrapped her torso, a testament to the recent turmoil she had endured. A stain, marking the passage of blood, graced her left side.</p><br />
<br />
<p>"I should cut your throat, right now," Elvira's words were a venomous hiss, like the whispered threat of a serpent in the night, "For leading us into the slaughter."</p><br />
<br />
<p>Gwendolyn met Elvira's gaze, her own chillingly cold. Her voice carried no inflection as she inquired, "How many."</p><br />
<br />
<p>Elvira's teeth clenched in suppressed fury, her voice dripping with the bitterness of defeat. "All your Blackshields are dead," she spat, her tone dripping with acid, "my men are the only ones who made it out, all of them wounded. Most will die overnight, the rest will never fight again."</p><br />
<br />
<p>Gwendolyn's response was a mere nod, her demeanour untouched by the magnitude of the losses. "I see," her voice a whisper of a sigh, "that is unfortunate. We will have to exercise greater caution in the next engagement."</p><br />
<br />
<p>This measured response ignited a tempest within Elvira. Her patience, worn thin by the weight of her emotions, crumbled. Her palm slapped against Gwendolyn's cheek, and in the wake of the stinging blow, her fingers closed around Gwendolyn's throat. Rage and frustration merged in her voice as she roared, "<strong>THERE ISN'T GOING TO BE ANOTHER BATTLE, YOU DUMB BITCH! MY MEN AND I WILL NOT FOLLOW YOU INTO ANOTHER SLAUGHTER, DO YOU HEAR ME!"</strong></p><br />
<br />
<p>Gwendolyn's unyielding gaze remained fixed upon Elvira, her stillness unwavering even in the face of danger. As Elvira's grip loosened, Gwendolyn's composure was a stark contrast to the tempest that roared around her.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Elvira stepped back, her face contorted with a mixture of disgust and disdain. "You are a freak of nature," she spat, the words dripping with repulsion. "You unfeeling, heartless, soulless creature."</p><br />
<br />
<p>With an unhurried grace, Gwendolyn rose from the bed, her hand steadying her side as she stood. She crossed the chamber to her chest, retrieving a sack of gold with an air of finality. The clinking of metal echoed as she tossed the bag to Elvira.</p><br />
<br />
<p>"Take thy payment," Gwendolyn's voice cut through the tension, a cold wind amidst the storm. "Thee and thy men may leave. Our contract has reached its end."</p><br />
<br />
<p>Her voice, devoid of warmth or animosity, continued, "I shall ride to the capital and seek a new unit. I shall offer my prayers to the winds of fate for thy men's swift recovery."</p><br />
<br />
<p>Elvira's laughter, a brittle and bitter echo resounded as she accepted the gold, A mirthless smile played upon her lips, her voice dripping with caustic sarcasm. "I shall inform the men of your well wishes, I am sure it will ease their pain as they die of their wounds. <strong>You bitch!</strong>" The door closed behind her its slam punctuating the finality of their exchange, leaving Gwendolyn in solitude once more.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Gwendolyn exhaled, a sound as delicate as a wisp of smoke. Her fingers, slender and pale, reached up to touch her cheek where Elvira's parting strike had landed. A single tear traced its path down her cheek brushed her fingers, a testament to the intricate labyrinth of emotions hidden beneath her stoic façade. The tear, an anomaly in her world of detachment, was swiftly wiped away, and Gwendolyn set herself to the task at hand. With the assistance of her scouts and healers, before embarking on her journey anew as they prepared to return to Askileon.</p><br />
<br />
|Title=Roleplay from Gwendolyn Briarwood<br />
|Signature=}}</div>Marcus Daubenyhttps://wiki.battlemaster.org/index.php?title=Briarwood_Family/Gwendolyn/The_Slaughter&diff=218260Briarwood Family/Gwendolyn/The Slaughter2023-08-11T18:41:42Z<p>Marcus Daubeny: Created page with "{{BMMessage |Width=80 |Type=Roleplay |Sent=Fri Aug 11, 2023 13:33:31 |Sender=Gwendolyn Briarwood|Recipients=Message sent to all nobles of Luria Nova (24 recipients) |Content=<..."</p>
<hr />
<div>{{BMMessage<br />
|Width=80<br />
|Type=Roleplay<br />
|Sent=Fri Aug 11, 2023 13:33:31<br />
|Sender=Gwendolyn Briarwood|Recipients=Message sent to all nobles of Luria Nova (24 recipients)<br />
|Content=<p><strong><u>Gwendolyn: The Slaughter (PT 1)</u></strong></p><br />
<br />
<p>Through the obsidian shroud of night, Lady Gwendolyn led the Blackshields across the bridge, her countenance devoid of the worry that was etched on the faces behind her. The Sallowtown Spearmen followed her, their unease cloaked by the darkness. The region of Garuck Udor lay under the shroud of night, an unsettling quiet reigning over the land, save for the distant thundering that rolled through the air like a premonition. </p><br />
<br />
<p>Advance," Gwendolyn commanded in a voice devoid of intonation, her flat gaze fixed on the darkness ahead. The soldiers moved in response, following her lead with obedient precision, the metal elk masks of the Blackshields casting eerie shadows as they stepped in unison across the bridge's worn stones.</p><br />
<br />
<p>To Gwendolyn's side stood Captain Elvira, her unease manifest in shaky words. "None can see aught in this darkness," Elvira murmured, her grip on her spear a white-knuckled testament to her apprehension. "Perhaps we should wait for dawn."</p><br />
<br />
<p>Gwendolyn's response was silence. She raised her hand, a gesture that halted her troops. The quiet night seemed to amplify the disquiet etching across the faces of the Sallowtown Spearmen, their eyes flickering with growing worry and fear. In contrast, the Blackshields stood resolute, their metal elk masks giving nothing away.</p><br />
<br />
<p>A distant rumbling grew louder, the sound of hooves thundering through the black expanse. Stillness hung in the air, broken only by the intensifying anticipation. Gwendolyn's orders sliced through the silence, sharp as a blade. "Ready. They come."</p><br />
<br />
<p>Abruptly, the air shattered, releasing monstrous screams that heralded a malevolent surge. As one, Gwendolyn and her unit charged into the abyss. A cacophonous clash ensued as men and beasts collided in a fury of violence. </p><br />
<br />
<p>In the chaos, Her movements were swift, precise, an intricate dance between life and death. But the sheer number of the creatures forced her to a defensive stance, her blade parrying blows, her body twisting away from claws that sought her life. The Blackshields bore the brunt, crushed by colossal beasts, while the spearmen fell before rending claws. Stumbling back Gwendolyn collided with Elvira. A retreat urged Elvira's nervousness to transform into screams. She lunged at a beast that swiped its claw in turn, an arm severed. Her agony echoing in the night, Elvira stumbled into Gwendolyn, who received a jarring blow to the chest in return. </p><br />
<br />
<p>The world slowed as Gwendolyn fell, a rib fracturing, consciousness waning. The battlefield was painted in red and darkness, the clashing of metal and beastly fury a symphony of violence, soldiers around her falling to shadows. Gwendolyn's ribs protested as she fell, coughing against the pain. She rolled, avoiding the weight of the creature's stamping foot, and then with a fluid motion, she rose into a crouch, her blade in hand.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Warhorns sounded in the distance, a clarion call to retreat. The Sallowtown Spearmen faltered, carrying an unconscious Elvira to safety. Two Blackshields pulled her back, their determination mingling with desperation. "Retreat, Lady Gwendolyn," one urged, his voice tense.</p><br />
<br />
<p>She shook her head, her gaze unyielding beneath her golden elk skull mask. The mask was wrenched from her face, and a scream pierced the air as the other Blackshield met his doom. Gwendolyn's stance remained unbroken as her eyes locked onto the towering creature leading the onslaught, its primal might unmatched threw the fallen man to the side.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Then, a forceful shove, and Gwendolyn tumbled onto the bridge, her gaze lifting to lock onto a towering beast.</p><br />
<br />
<p>The Blackshield who pushed her, consumed by vengeance, charged but was seized by the head by the beast, he slashed at its torso in futile effort as it seemed to snort in annoyance. The beast crushed the man's head, blood splattering from his hand to the ground as the Blackshield fell limp. Lifeless.</p><br />
<br />
<p>A fire ignited by the fallen torches, swallowed the dry grass, forming a barrier that separated Gwendolyn from the horde. Amidst the inferno, she found herself alone with a tall beast, its tribal tattoos marking it as a chiefling, the eldest son of the pack's leader. Flames danced in her sapphire eyes as her blade's silver light shone brighter.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Remembering the words of the Helical, Gwendolyn's lips moved eerily, her voice devoid of emotion. "Just... one... beast." Her eyes flickered with a faint glint as if reflecting some hidden purpose With an almost mechanical grace, she rose from her fallen position, the edges of her cloak trailing through the dust, gore and embers. There was no hesitation, no flicker of doubt. She stepped forward, into the path of the chiefling and whispered, "Your end beckons."</p><br />
<br />
|Title=Roleplay from Gwendolyn Briarwood<br />
|Signature=}}</div>Marcus Daubenyhttps://wiki.battlemaster.org/index.php?title=Briarwood_Family/Gwendolyn&diff=218259Briarwood Family/Gwendolyn2023-08-11T18:40:24Z<p>Marcus Daubeny: </p>
<hr />
<div>[[File:Gwendolyn_Briarwood.jpg]]<br />
<br />
{{Quotation| May the winds of fate find thee well, come the eventide.|Gwendolyn Briarwood}}<br />
<br />
Born as the second eldest child to Morgyn and Elias Briarwood, her arrival into the world was marred by an eerie silence, causing her family to believe her life had slipped away. Yet, Gwendolyn defied expectations from the start, exuding a tranquillity unusual for a newborn, unlike her older sister Lilyana and younger brother Malachi, who often wailed and fussed.<br />
<br />
Throughout her childhood, Gwendolyn's peculiarities only intensified, creating an aura of mystique around her. She was often caught lost in thought, staring into the distance in the strangest of places as if gazing at unseen realms. Instead of embracing the usual feminine pursuits of her family, she took a keen interest in combat and duelling, following the footsteps of her older cousin Zayn rather than her sister Lilyana's passion for singing and dancing.<br />
<br />
On her sixteenth birthday, Elias gifted her a sword, an acknowledgment of her unconventional desires. From then on, she immersed herself in rigorous training, dedicating countless hours to mastering the art of the blade. Gwendolyn's skill with the sword was astonishing, and she became known for her grace when fighting.<br />
<br />
As she entered her later teen years, Gwendolyn displayed a lack of interest in romantic entanglements and dismissed the numerous flirtations and marriage proposals she received, regardless of the suitor's gender. Her indifference to societal norms further intensified the rumours surrounding her enigmatic nature.<br />
<br />
At the age of nineteen, a fateful event led to a dramatic falling out with her cousin Zayn. Intoxicated and spiteful, Zayn hurled vile insults at Lilyana, degrading her with cruel words. Fueled by her duty to her sister and a sense of justice, Gwendolyn demanded a duel with Zayn, challenging him to account for his actions. To the astonishment of her family and a gathered crowd at Prospero Square in [[Aix]], she easily bested him, disarming him by cutting off three fingers from his dominant hand. <br />
<br />
In a chilling display of cold indifference, she rebuked Zayn, exposing the long-held family secret of his birth, branding him an unworthy Briarwood and a bastard child, shattering his and his father Asher's reputation in the public eye.<br />
<br />
In the wake of the tumultuous confrontation, Gwendolyn became reclusive, distancing herself from her family. She appeared only when summoned by her father, displaying a cold detachment from her family which hurt her sister and brother. <br />
<br />
When Elias decided to send her to Dwilight to expand the family's influence in Luria Nova, she accepted the order without hesitation, seemingly unaffected by the prospect of leaving her home behind. She left her ancestral home in Aix behind and set forth on a journey to the continent of Dwilight. She arrived in the illustrious Ascendancy of Luria Nova and found her place as a Dame of the City of Giask, residing in its golden palace, far from the gossip and expectations of her former life.<br />
<br />
==Tales of the Dane of Gask==<br />
<br />
*[[/Training in Giask/]]<br />
*[[/A Chance at Glory/]]<br />
*[[/From Askileon, to Glory/]]<br />
*[[/Night before the Slaughter/]]<br />
*[[/The Battle of Ciarin Tut/]]<br />
*[[/Briarmarch/]]<br />
*[[/The Slaughter/]]</div>Marcus Daubenyhttps://wiki.battlemaster.org/index.php?title=Briarwood_Family/Gwendolyn/Briarmarch&diff=218248Briarwood Family/Gwendolyn/Briarmarch2023-08-10T10:30:56Z<p>Marcus Daubeny: Created page with " {{BMMessage |Width=80 |Type=Letter |Sent=Thu Aug 10, 2023 01:03:40 |Sender=Wassgandr Felsenbach|Recipients=(Personal message to Gwendolyn Briarwood) |Content=<p>Brave Gwendol..."</p>
<hr />
<div><br />
{{BMMessage<br />
|Width=80<br />
|Type=Letter<br />
|Sent=Thu Aug 10, 2023 01:03:40<br />
|Sender=Wassgandr Felsenbach|Recipients=(Personal message to Gwendolyn Briarwood)<br />
|Content=<p>Brave Gwendolyn,</p><br />
<br />
<p>With great pleasure, I extend my heartfelt congratulations on your inaugural victory. It is a triumph that shall forever be etched in your journey, a testament to your valor and leadership.</p><br />
<br />
<p>In regard to the looming threat of the beasts in Garuck Udor, I harbor no illusions of an easy conquest. Yet, I beseech you to consider a noble objective – to alleviate the suffering of the hapless peasants who endure the menacing onslaught of these creatures. While I do not anticipate unmitigated success, even the felling of a few of these beasts would provide respite, diminishing the peril they pose to the innocent lives dwelling in Garuck Udor.</p><br />
<br />
<p>This endeavor may demand multiple engagements, necessitating your return to Askileon for recruitment and rearmament. With each encounter, however arduous, you shall gradually chip away at their numbers, curbing the menace they inflict upon our realm.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Undoubtedly, this challenge will be an ardent trial, yet it shall also constitute a priceless lesson that will empower you to surmount adversity in the years ahead.</p><br />
<br />
<p>May the light of Lux Nova be your guide,</p><br />
<br />
|Title=Letter from Wassgandr Felsenbach<br />
|Signature=<p class="titleSignature"><span style="color:#fff">Wassgandr Felsenbach</span><br /><span style="color:#def">Heliacal, Empyreus of <span class="realm_35">Luria Nova</span></span><br /><span style="color:#dde">Royal of <span class="realm_35">Luria Nova</span></span><br /><span style="color:#cef">Duke of <span class="realm_35">Eternal Radiance</span></span><br /><span style="color:#cdf">Margrave of <span class="realm_35">Askileon</span></span><br /><span style="color:#cdd">Priest of Lux Nova</span></p><p class="heraldrySignature"><img src="//battlemaster.org/heraldry/preview.php/polish-sable-quarterly-argent-winged_stag_rampant-or-icon.svg" /></p>}}<br />
<br />
{{BMMessage<br />
|Width=80<br />
|Type=Roleplay<br />
|Sent=Thu Aug 10, 2023 06:28:54<br />
|Sender=Gwendolyn Briarwood|Recipients=Message sent to all nobles of Luria Nova (25 recipients)<br />
|Content=<p><strong><u>Gwendolyn: Briarmarch</u></strong></p><br />
<br />
<p>Amidst the eerie aftermath of the battle, where the scent of blood and the echoes of conflict still lingered, Gwendolyn, a figure shrouded in armour and enigma, perched upon the lifeless carcass of a slain beast. The dark ichor that once stained her countenance had been cleansed, yet traces of it clung obstinately to her arms and armour. Her visage remained an emotionless mask, as if emotions were foreign concepts beneath her.</p><br />
<br />
<p>With calculated detachment, she unfolded the missive that bore the emblem of the Helical, ruler of these lands, and read its words. Her gaze, piercing yet distant, took in the field and the ranks of her unit, the Blackshields, who awaited her enigmatic directive. An exhale, devoid of warmth or sentiment, parted her lips. "<em>Thy words offer little comfort, Helical. But if it is thy command, so be it.</em>"</p><br />
<br />
<p>Pushing herself lithely to her feet atop the beast's form, Gwendolyn surveyed her assembled soldiers, a tableau of loyalty and solemnity. Her voice, flat and inscrutable, disrupted the air like a gust of wind. "Gather."</p><br />
<br />
<p>Her command drew the unit to her, a sea of expectant faces awaiting her cryptic proclamation. As whispers meandered through their ranks, Gwendolyn's voice sliced through the emerging turmoil. "The Helical commands. We March. Garuck Udor."</p><br />
<br />
<p>In response, a tempest of dissent erupted, a chorus of apprehension and fervent protest. Death, futility, and the spectre of a suicide mission loomed in their cries.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Gwendolyn's hand moved with deliberate precision, her sword drawn from its sheath, its metallic hiss slicing through the clamour. "Silence," she commanded, her voice lowered to a menacing undertone. The Blackshields, trained under her unyielding will, fell into a strained silence, though the Sallowtown Spearmen's murmurs still simmered like embers.</p><br />
<br />
<p>In that moment of stillness, Gwendolyn raised the Helical's missive like a solemn decree, the inked words inscribed in her memory. "It is Thy duty. Lurian Soldiers. We are the Realm's shield."</p><br />
<br />
<p>But scepticism lingered, a persistent shadow that danced in the eyes of her followers. Gwendolyn's sigh was a mere wisp of sound, a sigh that held within it worlds of weariness. She looked skyward briefly before uttering cryptic phrases, foreign syllables tumbling from her lips like a forgotten incantation. "Majak svern dout seoylic kagh waphic ekess wer ksenya di luyos. Anyui wer relgr jaka kagh grada wer elk aulkhori. Yth geou jikmada wer fueryon. Si declare vi Briarmarch."</p><br />
<br />
<p>At the utterance of "Briarmarch," a shudder rippled through the ranks of the Blackshields, like a current through iron. Fists met armour, a chorus of resonant thuds, as they hastened to retrieve a peculiar set of masks – iron renditions of an elk's skull adorned with silver thorns. One amongst them, bearing a mask of gold, offered it to Gwendolyn, a gesture of reverence. She accepted before placing it upon her own visage. </p><br />
<br />
<p>Captain Elvira emerged from the assembly, curiosity burning in her eyes. "What was spoken? Why these masks?". Gwendolyn's gaze pierced through the mask's hollow eyes. Her response was a mere murmur, as cryptic as the rest. "Briarmarch. A tradition of loyalty absolute. To ignore all peril to themselves until their task is done." Elvira's disquiet was palpable, her query aimed squarely at Gwendolyn's own fate. The noble lady's gaze, unflinching, met Elvira's, a silence echoing the question before her words fell, stark and chilling. "Yes."</p><br />
<br />
<p>After her pronouncement, Gwendolyn's orders unfurled with a frigid resolve. The Sallowtown Spearmen were dispatched to the hills, tasked with hunting down the remnants of the beasts in Ciarin Tut. Come eventide, the march to Garuck Udor would commence, even if the cost was the lives of her steadfast soldiers.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Gwendolyn turned away from Elvira, her attention reclaimed by her Blackshields, each adorned in the elk skull masks. Her voice, unfeeling yet unwavering, cut through the air. "Briarmarch declared. Until the beasts' end. The Winds' mercy scant, but we shall march regardless."</p><br />
<br />
<p>A resounding thump of chests filled the void, voices blending in a harmonious pledge. "Briarmarch answered. Lives and souls surrendered. Lady Gwendolyn, of House Briarwood. Until the beasts of Garuck Udor fall."</p><br />
<br />
<p>And so, beneath the weight of oaths and the shadow of impending conflict, the scene unfolded with an eerie symphony of unity. Gwendolyn's voice, as emotionless as ever, sealed their pact. "Bound. Until victory, or death."</p><br />
<br />
|Title=Roleplay from Gwendolyn Briarwood<br />
|Signature=}}</div>Marcus Daubenyhttps://wiki.battlemaster.org/index.php?title=Briarwood_Family/Gwendolyn&diff=218247Briarwood Family/Gwendolyn2023-08-10T10:29:58Z<p>Marcus Daubeny: </p>
<hr />
<div>[[File:Gwendolyn_Briarwood.jpg]]<br />
<br />
{{Quotation| May the winds of fate find thee well, come the eventide.|Gwendolyn Briarwood}}<br />
<br />
Born as the second eldest child to Morgyn and Elias Briarwood, her arrival into the world was marred by an eerie silence, causing her family to believe her life had slipped away. Yet, Gwendolyn defied expectations from the start, exuding a tranquillity unusual for a newborn, unlike her older sister Lilyana and younger brother Malachi, who often wailed and fussed.<br />
<br />
Throughout her childhood, Gwendolyn's peculiarities only intensified, creating an aura of mystique around her. She was often caught lost in thought, staring into the distance in the strangest of places as if gazing at unseen realms. Instead of embracing the usual feminine pursuits of her family, she took a keen interest in combat and duelling, following the footsteps of her older cousin Zayn rather than her sister Lilyana's passion for singing and dancing.<br />
<br />
On her sixteenth birthday, Elias gifted her a sword, an acknowledgment of her unconventional desires. From then on, she immersed herself in rigorous training, dedicating countless hours to mastering the art of the blade. Gwendolyn's skill with the sword was astonishing, and she became known for her grace when fighting.<br />
<br />
As she entered her later teen years, Gwendolyn displayed a lack of interest in romantic entanglements and dismissed the numerous flirtations and marriage proposals she received, regardless of the suitor's gender. Her indifference to societal norms further intensified the rumours surrounding her enigmatic nature.<br />
<br />
At the age of nineteen, a fateful event led to a dramatic falling out with her cousin Zayn. Intoxicated and spiteful, Zayn hurled vile insults at Lilyana, degrading her with cruel words. Fueled by her duty to her sister and a sense of justice, Gwendolyn demanded a duel with Zayn, challenging him to account for his actions. To the astonishment of her family and a gathered crowd at Prospero Square in [[Aix]], she easily bested him, disarming him by cutting off three fingers from his dominant hand. <br />
<br />
In a chilling display of cold indifference, she rebuked Zayn, exposing the long-held family secret of his birth, branding him an unworthy Briarwood and a bastard child, shattering his and his father Asher's reputation in the public eye.<br />
<br />
In the wake of the tumultuous confrontation, Gwendolyn became reclusive, distancing herself from her family. She appeared only when summoned by her father, displaying a cold detachment from her family which hurt her sister and brother. <br />
<br />
When Elias decided to send her to Dwilight to expand the family's influence in Luria Nova, she accepted the order without hesitation, seemingly unaffected by the prospect of leaving her home behind. She left her ancestral home in Aix behind and set forth on a journey to the continent of Dwilight. She arrived in the illustrious Ascendancy of Luria Nova and found her place as a Dame of the City of Giask, residing in its golden palace, far from the gossip and expectations of her former life.<br />
<br />
==Roleplays==<br />
<br />
*[[/Training in Giask/]]<br />
*[[/A Chance at Glory/]]<br />
*[[/From Askileon, to Glory/]]<br />
*[[/Night before the Slaughter/]]<br />
*[[/The Battle of Ciarin Tut/]]<br />
*[[/Briarmarch/]]</div>Marcus Daubenyhttps://wiki.battlemaster.org/index.php?title=Briarwood_Family/Gwendolyn/The_Battle_of_Ciarin_Tut&diff=218246Briarwood Family/Gwendolyn/The Battle of Ciarin Tut2023-08-10T06:37:42Z<p>Marcus Daubeny: Created page with " {{BMMessage |Width=80 |Type=Roleplay |Sent=Thu Aug 10, 2023 02:34:47 |Sender=Gwendolyn Briarwood|Recipients=Message sent to all nobles of Luria Nova (24 recipients) |Content=..."</p>
<hr />
<div><br />
{{BMMessage<br />
|Width=80<br />
|Type=Roleplay<br />
|Sent=Thu Aug 10, 2023 02:34:47<br />
|Sender=Gwendolyn Briarwood|Recipients=Message sent to all nobles of Luria Nova (24 recipients)<br />
|Content=<p><u><strong>Gwendolyn: The Battle of Ciarin Tut</strong></u></p><br />
<br />
<p>The early morning sun cast feeble rays over the region of Ciarin Tut, painting the landscape with muted hues. Gwendolyn, the noble lady, led her battalion of infantry, the Blackshields, with an air of detached authority. Clad in gleaming armor, her long silver blade—etched with the patterns of thorns and vines—hung at her side. Her expression, devoid of emotion, betrayed no hint of the impending conflict.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Amidst the Blackshields marched the Sallowtown Spearmen, their formations tight and determined. Gwendolyn's cold demeanor held the attention of her men as they silently ventured toward the outskirts of a desolated village. Monstrous creatures ravaged the once-thriving settlement. As the creatures wreaked havoc, Gwendolyn's hand wrapped around her blade's hilt, and without a word, she raised it, causing a chorus of warhorns to echo through the air.</p><br />
<br />
<p>The Blackshields responded, forming into a wedge formation, their shields locked in unity. Gwendolyn stood at the forefront, her sword pointed forward, glistening in the subdued light. The monstrous entities turned their attention to the approaching threat, incensed by the blaring warhorns. The air charged with tension as the creatures lunged forward, responding to the challenge.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Beside Gwendolyn stood Captain Elvira, her smile tinged with resignation. "This'll be a messy one, my lady," she remarked, readying her spear. Gwendolyn's emotionless gaze remained fixed ahead, her response a stark contrast to Elvira's wry comment. She did not answer, her focus solely on the task at hand. With a curt command, the procession advanced.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Thirty yards separated the two forces. Gwendolyn's voice cut through the tension, a directive carried on the wind. "Charge." With that word, the soldiers erupted into a battle cry that shattered the silence of dawn. Feet thundered against the earth as men and monsters hurtled towards each other.</p><br />
<br />
<p>A symphony of brutality erupted as metal clashed with flesh. Blackshields and Spearmen met the beasts head-on, their war cries mingling with the roars of their foes. Red and dark ichor spilled onto the earth, mingling with the stench of sweat and gore.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Gwendolyn moved with swift precision, her silver blade a blur as she danced through the chaos. Three monsters fell beneath her blade, life extinguished in an instant. The Blackshields formed an unbreakable wall, allowing the Spearmen to strike from behind their shielded ranks.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Amidst the melee, a beast's tremendous force sent a Blackshield flying through the air. Gwendolyn's reaction was swift and fluid, her body rolling beneath the airborne warrior. As the man sailed above her, she slid forward and thrust her blade into the creature's head, ending its life with clinical precision.</p><br />
<br />
<p>The ferocious clash continued for hours, an unrelenting storm of violence and valor. The monsters, sensing the tide turning, broke away and retreated into the hills, leaving their fallen brethren behind. Whimpers and yelps accompanied their retreat, a haunting chorus of defeat.</p><br />
<br />
<p>A triumphant cheer erupted from the survivors, victorious cries punctuating the grim aftermath. Gwendolyn's gaze swept over the field, her stoic demeanor unwavering. The injured soldiers were tended to, the living honoring their fallen comrades.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Beside a dying Blackshield, Gwendolyn knelt with a detachment that belied the gravity of the moment. Captain Elvira's observant eyes lingered on the scene, her voice a mixture of concern and curiosity. "He won't last long," she noted, her tone heavy with empathy.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Gwendolyn's response was succinct and cryptic, devoid of sentiment. "Blade or Beast." The injured Blackshield's voice, strained and pained, whispered his choice. "Blade." Gwendolyn's expression remained unchanged as she silently thanked him for his sacrifice.</p><br />
<br />
<p>With precision that mirrored her earlier battle prowess, Gwendolyn took the soldier's dagger and swiftly ended his suffering. Elvira's expletive-laden exclamation was met with a cold reply. "His torment ceased, it was kinder then to have left him."</p><br />
<br />
<p>As the sun climbed higher, Gwendolyn rose to her feet, her gaze fixed on the horizon. Elvira shook her head and swore under her breath. Orders were given, the dead were laid to rest, and the wounded attended to.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Gwendolyn stood alone, staring at the path the creatures had retreated along. With methodical precision, she cleaned her blood-stained sword, her focus unswerving. Bloodied arms, armor, and face seemed to hold no sway over her. Her voice was an emotionless murmur. "This isn't over until the realm is free of all beasts."</p><br />
<br />
|Title=Roleplay from Gwendolyn Briarwood<br />
|Signature=}}</div>Marcus Daubenyhttps://wiki.battlemaster.org/index.php?title=Briarwood_Family/Gwendolyn&diff=218245Briarwood Family/Gwendolyn2023-08-10T06:37:29Z<p>Marcus Daubeny: </p>
<hr />
<div>[[File:Gwendolyn_Briarwood.jpg]]<br />
<br />
{{Quotation| May the winds of fate find thee well, come the eventide.|Gwendolyn Briarwood}}<br />
<br />
Born as the second eldest child to Morgyn and Elias Briarwood, her arrival into the world was marred by an eerie silence, causing her family to believe her life had slipped away. Yet, Gwendolyn defied expectations from the start, exuding a tranquillity unusual for a newborn, unlike her older sister Lilyana and younger brother Malachi, who often wailed and fussed.<br />
<br />
Throughout her childhood, Gwendolyn's peculiarities only intensified, creating an aura of mystique around her. She was often caught lost in thought, staring into the distance in the strangest of places as if gazing at unseen realms. Instead of embracing the usual feminine pursuits of her family, she took a keen interest in combat and duelling, following the footsteps of her older cousin Zayn rather than her sister Lilyana's passion for singing and dancing.<br />
<br />
On her sixteenth birthday, Elias gifted her a sword, an acknowledgment of her unconventional desires. From then on, she immersed herself in rigorous training, dedicating countless hours to mastering the art of the blade. Gwendolyn's skill with the sword was astonishing, and she became known for her grace when fighting.<br />
<br />
As she entered her later teen years, Gwendolyn displayed a lack of interest in romantic entanglements and dismissed the numerous flirtations and marriage proposals she received, regardless of the suitor's gender. Her indifference to societal norms further intensified the rumours surrounding her enigmatic nature.<br />
<br />
At the age of nineteen, a fateful event led to a dramatic falling out with her cousin Zayn. Intoxicated and spiteful, Zayn hurled vile insults at Lilyana, degrading her with cruel words. Fueled by her duty to her sister and a sense of justice, Gwendolyn demanded a duel with Zayn, challenging him to account for his actions. To the astonishment of her family and a gathered crowd at Prospero Square in [[Aix]], she easily bested him, disarming him by cutting off three fingers from his dominant hand. <br />
<br />
In a chilling display of cold indifference, she rebuked Zayn, exposing the long-held family secret of his birth, branding him an unworthy Briarwood and a bastard child, shattering his and his father Asher's reputation in the public eye.<br />
<br />
In the wake of the tumultuous confrontation, Gwendolyn became reclusive, distancing herself from her family. She appeared only when summoned by her father, displaying a cold detachment from her family which hurt her sister and brother. <br />
<br />
When Elias decided to send her to Dwilight to expand the family's influence in Luria Nova, she accepted the order without hesitation, seemingly unaffected by the prospect of leaving her home behind. She left her ancestral home in Aix behind and set forth on a journey to the continent of Dwilight. She arrived in the illustrious Ascendancy of Luria Nova and found her place as a Dame of the City of Giask, residing in its golden palace, far from the gossip and expectations of her former life.<br />
<br />
==Roleplays==<br />
<br />
*[[/Training in Giask/]]<br />
*[[/A Chance at Glory/]]<br />
*[[/From Askileon, to Glory/]]<br />
*[[/Night before the Slaughter/]]<br />
*[[/The Battle of Ciarin Tut/]]</div>Marcus Daubenyhttps://wiki.battlemaster.org/index.php?title=Briarwood_Family/Gwendolyn/Night_before_the_Slaughter&diff=218242Briarwood Family/Gwendolyn/Night before the Slaughter2023-08-10T04:24:42Z<p>Marcus Daubeny: </p>
<hr />
<div><br />
{{BMMessage<br />
|Width=80<br />
|Type=Roleplay<br />
|Sent=Wed Aug 9, 2023 23:50:27<br />
|Sender=Gwendolyn Briarwood|Recipients=Message sent to all nobles of Luria Nova (25 recipients)<br />
|Content=<p><u><strong>Gwendolyn: Night Before the Slaughter</strong></u><br />
<p>Amidst the quiet embrace of night, a campfire blazed, its warm, flickering glow casting dancing shadows upon the faces gathered around. The Sallowtown Spearmen and the Blackshields, a melding of two disparate units, shared tales and laughter with a vibrant camaraderie. Their voices merged into a chorus of excitement, blending the anticipation of battle with the zest of newfound camaraderie. The crackling fire serenaded them with its soothing rhythm while the scent of roasting meat hung in the air, mingling with the earthy aroma of the surrounding forest.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Gwendolyn sat beside the fire, a study in contrast against the amber glow. Her long black hair cascaded over her shoulders, framing an expressionless face adorned with piercing sapphire eyes. Clad in black leather armour and a cloak with a purple lining.</p><br />
<br />
<p>By her side, Elvira, the unit captain, observed the soldiers' mirthful exchanges, her lips curving with a contented smile. A tankard of ale rested in her grasp, its contents sloshing gently as she savoured the moment.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Yet Gwendolyn remained an enigmatic figure amidst the revelry. Her gaze held an impassive veil, and Elvira's brow furrowed with concern and curiosity. She raised an inquisitive eyebrow, questioning Gwendolyn's distant demeanour. "Is something amiss, Lady Gwendolyn?"</p><br />
<br />
<p>Gwendolyn's response was as cryptic as ever, her voice flat and without inflection. "The joy of a soldier is but a coward's cloak," she remarked, her voice as flat and unyielding as stone.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Elvira's lips curved into a knowing smile, "And what of the ale? Does it not warm the heart and lighten the soul?"</p><br />
<br />
<p>Gwendolyn's gaze shifted, an almost imperceptible shake of her head. "Alcohol – poison veiled in sweetened deceit."</p><br />
<br />
<p>Elvira chuckled a deep and hearty sound. "A poison that takes its time, then. But fear not m'lady. The claws of monsters and the blades of foes will claim us before the <em>poison's </em>touch."</p><br />
<br />
<p>The lady's expression remained unchanged as she declined the proffered drink. Their conversation shifted to the strategy for the impending battle, the soldiers' chatter ebbing and flowing like flames. Elvira, a hint of scepticism in her voice, inquired about Gwendolyn's aggressive tactics. "Why push so hard, Gwendolyn? Defending could save lives."</p><br />
<br />
<p>"The beasts will strike hard, with or without defence," Gwendolyn stated, her voice devoid of inflection. "Violence meets violence. Kill before being killed."</p><br />
<br />
<p>Elvira countered, a touch of wisdom in her tone. "Yet aggression could cost more lives."</p><br />
<br />
<p>"True," Gwendolyn concurred, her agreement unexpected. A tense silence settled, a stillness that heightened Elvira's discomfort, the air growing slightly colder. And then Gwendolyn posed a riddle-like question. "Ciarin Tut. How many lives?"</p><br />
<br />
<p>Elvira shook her head, a silent admission of her ignorance. Gwendolyn exhaled, her breath melding with the night. "I do not know either," she confessed, eyes unseeing. "But safety remains a stranger to them until these beasts are ended. If I must wager my unit to ensure their demise, so be it."</p><br />
<br />
<p>Dawn approached, its light creeping over the horizon, and Gwendolyn's demeanour shifted. She rose, a bucket of water in hand, extinguishing the campfire with a decisive pour. Silence fell over the gathering as all eyes turned to her. With measured clarity, Gwendolyn addressed her assembled troops. "Sunrise nears. Fight with all thee possess. Our purpose is to safeguard the people of Ciarin Tut."</p><br />
<br />
<p>And then came the words, a whispered invocation that rippled through the Blackshields, a chorus of unity. "May the winds of fate guide us to victory," Gwendolyn's voice was unwavering.</p><br />
<br />
<p>"May the winds of fate shield us in the wars to come," the Blackshields responded in solemn harmony. The Sallowtown Spearmen, though a touch uncertain, echoed their camaraderie in fragmented unison.</p><br />
<br />
<p>With her proclamation delivered, Gwendolyn retreated to her tent. The grey crystal case caught her gaze, but her hand did not reach for it. Instead, her sword – a shimmering masterpiece wreathed in metal vines and thorns – found her grasp. She examined it with a detached focus, her features impassive, before resheathing it with a nod of approval.<br /><br />
<br /><br />
As she emerged from her tent, her soldiers stood assembled and ready. Gwendolyn's gaze swept over them, her voice devoid of sentiment as she issued her command. "To battle."</p><br />
With Gwendolyn's command echoing in the brisk morning air, the march toward destiny began, a blend of eager spirits, determined hearts, and the intoxicating scent of impending conflict.</p><br />
|Title=Roleplay from Gwendolyn Briarwood<br />
|Signature=}}</div>Marcus Daubenyhttps://wiki.battlemaster.org/index.php?title=Briarwood_Family/Gwendolyn/Night_before_the_Slaughter&diff=218241Briarwood Family/Gwendolyn/Night before the Slaughter2023-08-10T03:52:56Z<p>Marcus Daubeny: </p>
<hr />
<div><br />
{{BMMessage<br />
|Width=80<br />
|Type=Roleplay<br />
|Sent=Wed Aug 9, 2023 23:50:27<br />
|Sender=Gwendolyn Briarwood|Recipients=Message sent to all nobles of Luria Nova (25 recipients)<br />
|Content=<p><u><strong>Gwendolyn: Night Before the Slaughter</strong></u><br />
<p>Amidst the quiet embrace of night, a campfire blazed, its warm, flickering glow casting dancing shadows upon the faces gathered around. The Sallowtown Spearmen and the Blackshields, a melding of two disparate units, shared tales and laughter with a vibrant camaraderie. Their voices merged into a chorus of excitement, blending the anticipation of battle with the zest of newfound camaraderie. The crackling fire serenaded them with its soothing rhythm while the scent of roasting meat hung in the air, mingling with the earthy aroma of the surrounding forest.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Gwendolyn sat beside the fire, a study in contrast against the amber glow. Her long black hair cascaded over her shoulders, framing an expressionless face adorned with piercing sapphire eyes. Clad in black leather armour and a cloak with a purple lining.</p><br />
<br />
<p>By her side, Elvira, the unit captain, observed the soldiers' mirthful exchanges, her lips curving with a contented smile. A tankard of ale rested in her grasp, its contents sloshing gently as she savoured the moment.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Yet Gwendolyn remained an enigmatic figure amidst the revelry. Her gaze held an impassive veil, and Elvira's brow furrowed with concern and curiosity. She raised an inquisitive eyebrow, questioning Gwendolyn's distant demeanour. "Is something amiss, Lady Gwendolyn?"</p><br />
<br />
<p>Gwendolyn's response was as cryptic as ever, her voice flat and without inflection. "The joy of a soldier is but a coward's cloak," she remarked, her voice as flat and unyielding as stone.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Elvira's lips curved into a knowing smile, "And what of the ale? Does it not warm the heart and lighten the soul?"</p><br />
<br />
<p>Gwendolyn's gaze shifted, an almost imperceptible shake of her head. "Alcohol – poison veiled in sweetened deceit."</p><br />
<br />
<p>Elvira chuckled a deep and hearty sound. "A poison that takes its time, then. But fear not m'lady. The claws of monsters and the blades of foes will claim us before the <em>poison's </em>touch."</p><br />
<br />
<p>The lady's expression remained unchanged as she declined the proffered drink. Their conversation shifted to the strategy for the impending battle, the soldiers' chatter ebbing and flowing like flames. Elvira, a hint of scepticism in her voice, inquired about Gwendolyn's aggressive tactics. "Why push so hard, Gwendolyn? Defending could save lives."</p><br />
<br />
<p>"The beasts will strike hard, with or without defence," Gwendolyn stated, her voice devoid of inflection. "Violence meets violence. Kill before being killed."</p><br />
<br />
<p>Elvira countered, a touch of wisdom in her tone. "Yet aggression could cost more lives."</p><br />
<br />
<p>"True," Gwendolyn concurred, her agreement unexpected. A tense silence settled, a stillness that heightened Elvira's discomfort, the air growing slightly colder. And then Gwendolyn posed a riddle-like question. "Ciarin Tut. How many lives?"</p><br />
<br />
<p>Elvira shook her head, a silent admission of her ignorance. Gwendolyn exhaled, her breath melding with the night. "I do not know either," she confessed, eyes unseeing. "But safety remains a stranger to them until these beasts are ended. If I must wager my unit to ensure their demise, so be it."</p><br />
<br />
<p>Dawn approached, its light creeping over the horizon, and Gwendolyn's demeanour shifted. She rose, a bucket of water in hand, extinguishing the campfire with a decisive pour. Silence fell over the gathering as all eyes turned to her. With measured clarity, Gwendolyn addressed her assembled troops. "Sunrise nears. Fight with all you possess. Our purpose is to safeguard the people of Ciarin Tut."</p><br />
<br />
<p>And then came the words, a whispered invocation that rippled through the Blackshields, a chorus of unity. "May the winds of fate guide us to victory," Gwendolyn's voice was unwavering.</p><br />
<br />
<p>"May the winds of fate shield us in the wars to come," the Blackshields responded in solemn harmony. The Sallowtown Spearmen, though a touch uncertain, echoed their camaraderie in fragmented unison.</p><br />
<br />
<p>With her proclamation delivered, Gwendolyn retreated to her tent. The grey crystal case caught her gaze, but her hand did not reach for it. Instead, her sword – a shimmering masterpiece wreathed in metal vines and thorns – found her grasp. She examined it with a detached focus, her features impassive, before resheathing it with a nod of approval.<br /><br />
<br /><br />
As she emerged from her tent, her soldiers stood assembled and ready. Gwendolyn's gaze swept over them, her voice devoid of sentiment as she issued her command. "To battle."</p><br />
With Gwendolyn's command echoing in the brisk morning air, the march toward destiny began, a blend of eager spirits, determined hearts, and the intoxicating scent of impending conflict.</p><br />
|Title=Roleplay from Gwendolyn Briarwood<br />
|Signature=}}</div>Marcus Daubenyhttps://wiki.battlemaster.org/index.php?title=Briarwood_Family/Gwendolyn/Night_before_the_Slaughter&diff=218240Briarwood Family/Gwendolyn/Night before the Slaughter2023-08-10T03:52:20Z<p>Marcus Daubeny: Created page with " {{BMMessage |Width=80 |Type=Roleplay |Sent=Wed Aug 9, 2023 23:50:27 |Sender=Gwendolyn Briarwood|Recipients=Message sent to all nobles of Luria Nova (25 recipients) |Content=<..."</p>
<hr />
<div><br />
{{BMMessage<br />
|Width=80<br />
|Type=Roleplay<br />
|Sent=Wed Aug 9, 2023 23:50:27<br />
|Sender=Gwendolyn Briarwood|Recipients=Message sent to all nobles of Luria Nova (25 recipients)<br />
|Content=<p><u><strong>Gwendolyn: Night Before the Slaughter<strong></u><br />
<p>Amidst the quiet embrace of night, a campfire blazed, its warm, flickering glow casting dancing shadows upon the faces gathered around. The Sallowtown Spearmen and the Blackshields, a melding of two disparate units, shared tales and laughter with a vibrant camaraderie. Their voices merged into a chorus of excitement, blending the anticipation of battle with the zest of newfound camaraderie. The crackling fire serenaded them with its soothing rhythm while the scent of roasting meat hung in the air, mingling with the earthy aroma of the surrounding forest.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Gwendolyn sat beside the fire, a study in contrast against the amber glow. Her long black hair cascaded over her shoulders, framing an expressionless face adorned with piercing sapphire eyes. Clad in black leather armour and a cloak with a purple lining.</p><br />
<br />
<p>By her side, Elvira, the unit captain, observed the soldiers' mirthful exchanges, her lips curving with a contented smile. A tankard of ale rested in her grasp, its contents sloshing gently as she savoured the moment.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Yet Gwendolyn remained an enigmatic figure amidst the revelry. Her gaze held an impassive veil, and Elvira's brow furrowed with concern and curiosity. She raised an inquisitive eyebrow, questioning Gwendolyn's distant demeanour. "Is something amiss, Lady Gwendolyn?"</p><br />
<br />
<p>Gwendolyn's response was as cryptic as ever, her voice flat and without inflection. "The joy of a soldier is but a coward's cloak," she remarked, her voice as flat and unyielding as stone.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Elvira's lips curved into a knowing smile, "And what of the ale? Does it not warm the heart and lighten the soul?"</p><br />
<br />
<p>Gwendolyn's gaze shifted, an almost imperceptible shake of her head. "Alcohol – poison veiled in sweetened deceit."</p><br />
<br />
<p>Elvira chuckled a deep and hearty sound. "A poison that takes its time, then. But fear not m'lady. The claws of monsters and the blades of foes will claim us before the <em>poison's </em>touch."</p><br />
<br />
<p>The lady's expression remained unchanged as she declined the proffered drink. Their conversation shifted to the strategy for the impending battle, the soldiers' chatter ebbing and flowing like flames. Elvira, a hint of scepticism in her voice, inquired about Gwendolyn's aggressive tactics. "Why push so hard, Gwendolyn? Defending could save lives."</p><br />
<br />
<p>"The beasts will strike hard, with or without defence," Gwendolyn stated, her voice devoid of inflection. "Violence meets violence. Kill before being killed."</p><br />
<br />
<p>Elvira countered, a touch of wisdom in her tone. "Yet aggression could cost more lives."</p><br />
<br />
<p>"True," Gwendolyn concurred, her agreement unexpected. A tense silence settled, a stillness that heightened Elvira's discomfort, the air growing slightly colder. And then Gwendolyn posed a riddle-like question. "Ciarin Tut. How many lives?"</p><br />
<br />
<p>Elvira shook her head, a silent admission of her ignorance. Gwendolyn exhaled, her breath melding with the night. "I do not know either," she confessed, eyes unseeing. "But safety remains a stranger to them until these beasts are ended. If I must wager my unit to ensure their demise, so be it."</p><br />
<br />
<p>Dawn approached, its light creeping over the horizon, and Gwendolyn's demeanour shifted. She rose, a bucket of water in hand, extinguishing the campfire with a decisive pour. Silence fell over the gathering as all eyes turned to her. With measured clarity, Gwendolyn addressed her assembled troops. "Sunrise nears. Fight with all you possess. Our purpose is to safeguard the people of Ciarin Tut."</p><br />
<br />
<p>And then came the words, a whispered invocation that rippled through the Blackshields, a chorus of unity. "May the winds of fate guide us to victory," Gwendolyn's voice was unwavering.</p><br />
<br />
<p>"May the winds of fate shield us in the wars to come," the Blackshields responded in solemn harmony. The Sallowtown Spearmen, though a touch uncertain, echoed their camaraderie in fragmented unison.</p><br />
<br />
<p>With her proclamation delivered, Gwendolyn retreated to her tent. The grey crystal case caught her gaze, but her hand did not reach for it. Instead, her sword – a shimmering masterpiece wreathed in metal vines and thorns – found her grasp. She examined it with a detached focus, her features impassive, before resheathing it with a nod of approval.<br /><br />
<br /><br />
As she emerged from her tent, her soldiers stood assembled and ready. Gwendolyn's gaze swept over them, her voice devoid of sentiment as she issued her command. "To battle."</p><br />
With Gwendolyn's command echoing in the brisk morning air, the march toward destiny began, a blend of eager spirits, determined hearts, and the intoxicating scent of impending conflict.</p><br />
|Title=Roleplay from Gwendolyn Briarwood<br />
|Signature=}}</div>Marcus Daubenyhttps://wiki.battlemaster.org/index.php?title=Briarwood_Family/Gwendolyn&diff=218239Briarwood Family/Gwendolyn2023-08-10T03:51:29Z<p>Marcus Daubeny: </p>
<hr />
<div>[[File:Gwendolyn_Briarwood.jpg]]<br />
<br />
{{Quotation| May the winds of fate find thee well, come the eventide.|Gwendolyn Briarwood}}<br />
<br />
Born as the second eldest child to Morgyn and Elias Briarwood, her arrival into the world was marred by an eerie silence, causing her family to believe her life had slipped away. Yet, Gwendolyn defied expectations from the start, exuding a tranquillity unusual for a newborn, unlike her older sister Lilyana and younger brother Malachi, who often wailed and fussed.<br />
<br />
Throughout her childhood, Gwendolyn's peculiarities only intensified, creating an aura of mystique around her. She was often caught lost in thought, staring into the distance in the strangest of places as if gazing at unseen realms. Instead of embracing the usual feminine pursuits of her family, she took a keen interest in combat and duelling, following the footsteps of her older cousin Zayn rather than her sister Lilyana's passion for singing and dancing.<br />
<br />
On her sixteenth birthday, Elias gifted her a sword, an acknowledgment of her unconventional desires. From then on, she immersed herself in rigorous training, dedicating countless hours to mastering the art of the blade. Gwendolyn's skill with the sword was astonishing, and she became known for her grace when fighting.<br />
<br />
As she entered her later teen years, Gwendolyn displayed a lack of interest in romantic entanglements and dismissed the numerous flirtations and marriage proposals she received, regardless of the suitor's gender. Her indifference to societal norms further intensified the rumours surrounding her enigmatic nature.<br />
<br />
At the age of nineteen, a fateful event led to a dramatic falling out with her cousin Zayn. Intoxicated and spiteful, Zayn hurled vile insults at Lilyana, degrading her with cruel words. Fueled by her duty to her sister and a sense of justice, Gwendolyn demanded a duel with Zayn, challenging him to account for his actions. To the astonishment of her family and a gathered crowd at Prospero Square in [[Aix]], she easily bested him, disarming him by cutting off three fingers from his dominant hand. <br />
<br />
In a chilling display of cold indifference, she rebuked Zayn, exposing the long-held family secret of his birth, branding him an unworthy Briarwood and a bastard child, shattering his and his father Asher's reputation in the public eye.<br />
<br />
In the wake of the tumultuous confrontation, Gwendolyn became reclusive, distancing herself from her family. She appeared only when summoned by her father, displaying a cold detachment from her family which hurt her sister and brother. <br />
<br />
When Elias decided to send her to Dwilight to expand the family's influence in Luria Nova, she accepted the order without hesitation, seemingly unaffected by the prospect of leaving her home behind. She left her ancestral home in Aix behind and set forth on a journey to the continent of Dwilight. She arrived in the illustrious Ascendancy of Luria Nova and found her place as a Dame of the City of Giask, residing in its golden palace, far from the gossip and expectations of her former life.<br />
<br />
==Roleplays==<br />
<br />
*[[/Training in Giask/]]<br />
*[[/A Chance at Glory/]]<br />
*[[/From Askileon, to Glory/]]<br />
*[[/Night before the Slaughter/]]</div>Marcus Daubenyhttps://wiki.battlemaster.org/index.php?title=Briarwood_Family/Gwendolyn/From_Askileon,_to_Glory&diff=218227Briarwood Family/Gwendolyn/From Askileon, to Glory2023-08-09T08:10:59Z<p>Marcus Daubeny: </p>
<hr />
<div>{{BMMessage<br />
|Width=80<br />
|Type=Roleplay<br />
|Sent=Wed Aug 9, 2023 01:40:55<br />
|Sender=Gwendolyn Briarwood|Recipients=Message sent to all nobles of Luria Nova (25 recipients)<br />
|Content=<p><u><strong>Gwendolyn: From Askileon, To Glory</strong></u></p><br />
<br />
<p>In the heart of Askileon, a city of opulence and influence, Gwendolyn traversed the labyrinthine alleys, her steps a measured cadence in a world alive with bustling energy. The echoes of voices, a symphony of vendors and pedestrians, swirled around her as she glided through the maze of life. The city exhaled an orchestra of sound. The symphony of voices blended with the melodic barks of street-haunting canines and the ceaseless chirps of birds perched above. The rhythmic clatter of carts rumbled beneath, a percussive dance punctuated by the measured cadence of the city guard's march. The air was an aromatic tapestry woven with the tang of the sea, a reminder of Askileon's proximity to the ocean. Smoke curled lazily from nearby alleyways, casting a musky allure upon the wind. Amidst the vibrant symphony of the capital, Gwendolyn moved, a figure of stark contrast in her black attire, her piercing sapphire eyes seemingly untouched by the swirl of life surrounding her.</p><br />
<br />
<p>In one quiet, shadowy alley, a drunkard, emboldened by his spirits, stumbled forth to accost Gwendolyn. His intent was robbery, his demeanor brash and predatory. Yet, as his fingers brushed against her cloak, her gaze met his with an unsettling intensity. A strange stillness emanated from her as she countered his aggression with cryptic menace, her voice devoid of inflection.</p><br />
<br />
<p>"Thy path is ill-chosen, for shadows do not yield what thee seeks."</p><br />
<br />
<p>His eyes widened, his bravado wilting before her enigmatic presence. He backed away, stuttering apologies, and Gwendolyn resumed her journey to the recruitment centers nestled nearby.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Hood lowered, her sapphire gaze swept the hall, assessing the elite soldiers present, their auras of authority palpable. Unit commanders conversed, adorned in heraldic splendor, yet Gwendolyn remained unmoved, unsure of her choice. She approached unit commanders, her inquiries concise and probing, searching for an allegiance that matched her unspoken design.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Unit after unit, their leaders paraded their merits before her, each vying for her patronage. Gwendolyn's gaze held a discerning cold as she observed them.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Ultimately, her path led her to the outskirts of the hall, where a woman named Elvira stood. Clad in bronze lamellar, wielding a long spear, Elvira's presence exuded strength. Gwendolyn's words were calculated, her conversation with Elvira a delicate dance of words meant to ensnare allegiance. In the midst of their discourse, a presence intruded—the insolent figure of Theo, captain of the neighboring unit. Ego dripped from him, his eyes lingering on Gwendolyn with a flirtatious spark.</p><br />
<br />
<p>"Ah, the fair Dame of Giask has graced us with her presence," Theo purred, flexing his arm for emphasis. "My men, the Margarethan Axemasters, are more than worthy of your attention."</p><br />
<br />
<p>Gwendolyn's reply was as curt as it was cutting. "Ego blazes as an inferno, yet ego doesn't bring victory." Their conversation unveiled the potential of the Sallowtown Spearmen, but Theo persisted. Gwendolyn's patience waned, and her attention turned back to Elvira, the decision solidifying as they exchanged words, uninterrupted by Theo's muttered objections.</p><br />
<br />
<p>"Theo, thy display lacks substance," Gwendolyn remarked, her words piercing his facade. An unspoken tension lingered as the rejected captain sulked away, his wounded pride trailing behind him.</p><br />
<br />
<p>The choice was made, allegiance sealed in gold. With the agreement reached, time flowed like a river, carrying them to the cusp of dawn as they left Askileon. The first light of day kissed the horizon as Gwendolyn strode ahead of her men, an ethereal figure cutting through the encroaching light, her countenance fixed and unyielding, unfazed by the march's exertions.</p><br />
<br />
<p>In the shadows of early morning, a Blackshield stepped forward, breaking her reverie. "Milady, some horses have been replaced with lame ones. Speed may falter."</p><br />
<br />
<p>Gwendolyn's flat tone betrayed no surprise. "Negligence shadows us like a hawk. Halt. Rest. Correct the sabotage."</p><br />
<br />
<p>A plan formed, and her orders were dispatched. Able horses would be ridden back to Askileon, their replacements procured. She observed the signpost that pointed the way to Ciarin Tut, her destination set. Once the camp was established, her tent erected, she turned her attention to the men by her side.</p><br />
<br />
<p>"Efficiency merits acknowledgment. Gratitude."</p><br />
<br />
<p>As twilight blended into daybreak, Gwendolyn reclined in her tent, settling onto a fur blanket, her gaze traced the canopy that mimicked the night sky. As the sun's tendrils painted the world anew, Gwendolyn's eyes slipped shut, her visage a mask of serene calm amidst the dawn's embrace.</p><br />
<br />
|Title=Roleplay from Gwendolyn Briarwood<br />
|Signature=}}</div>Marcus Daubenyhttps://wiki.battlemaster.org/index.php?title=Briarwood_Family/Liliyana/Clearing_Clermont&diff=218226Briarwood Family/Liliyana/Clearing Clermont2023-08-09T06:56:35Z<p>Marcus Daubeny: </p>
<hr />
<div>{{BMMessage<br />
|Width=80<br />
|Type=Personal<br />
|Sent=Wed Aug 9, 2023 00:10:55<br />
|Recipients=message to all nobles participating in the battle in Clermont<br />
|Content=<p><table bgcolor=#000032><tr><th>No.</th><th>Role</th><th>Army</th><th>Unit</th><th>Commander</th><th>Realm</th><th>Unit</th><th>Formation</th><th>CS</th></tr><br />
<tr><td style="text-align: center;">1</td><td style="text-align: center;">A</td><td></td><td>Briarwood Heartseekers</td><td>Lilyana</td><td style="text-align: center;">Perdan</td><td style="text-align: center;">23&nbsp;Arch</td><td style="text-align: center;">line</td><td style="text-align: right;">&nbsp;&nbsp;326</td></tr><br />
<tr><td style="text-align: center;">2</td><td style="text-align: center;">D</td><td></td><td>Monsters</td><td><i>(Monsters)</i></td><td style="text-align: center;">(rogue)</td><td style="text-align: center;">10&nbsp;other</td><td style="text-align: center;">line</td><td style="text-align: right;">&nbsp;&nbsp;505</td></tr><br />
</table><br><br />
Total:<br>1 attackers (23 Arch)<br>1 defenders (10 other)<br>Total combat strengths: 326 vs. 505<br><p><br />
The troops from (rogue) set up defenses because they control the battlefield.<br><br />
The Perdan troops attack because they are at war with (rogue).<br><br />
<br>A calm wind blows, to the joy of the archers.<br><P><span style="font-size: 80%; text-align: center;">(legend: I=Infantry, M=Mixed Inf, A=Archers, C=Cavalry, S=Special Forces, U=Undead, M=Monsters)</span><br><br />
<span style="color: white;"><b>Turn No. 1</b></span><br><table style="background-color: #004000; width: 100%;" border="2"><tr><td width="9%">&nbsp;</td><td width="9%"><span style="color: #FF6464;"><span class="UID_22658 ">1&nbsp;(23-A)<br></span></span></td><td width="9%">&nbsp;</td><td width="9%">&nbsp;</td><td width="9%">&nbsp;</td><td width="9%">&nbsp;</td><td width="9%">&nbsp;</td><td width="9%"><span style="color: #9696FF;">2&nbsp;(10-M)<br></span></td><td width="9%">&nbsp;</td><td width="9%">&nbsp;</td><td width="9%">&nbsp;</td></tr></table><p><br />
<span class="UID_22658 ">Briarwood Heartseekers (1) move closer to get better shots.<br><br />
</span>Monsters (2) advance towards the enemy.<br><br />
<br/><br><br />
<span style="color: white;"><b>Total hits suffered: Attackers: 0 (0 from close combat and 0 from ranged), Defenders: 0 (0 from close combat and 0 from ranged)</b></span><br><br />
<P><span style="color: white;"><b>Turn No. 2</b></span><br><table style="background-color: #004000; width: 100%;" border="2"><tr><td width="9%">&nbsp;</td><td width="9%">&nbsp;</td><td width="9%"><span style="color: #FF6464;"><span class="UID_22658 ">1&nbsp;(23-A)<br></span></span></td><td width="9%">&nbsp;</td><td width="9%">&nbsp;</td><td width="9%">&nbsp;</td><td width="9%"><span style="color: #9696FF;">2&nbsp;(10-M)<br></span></td><td width="9%">&nbsp;</td><td width="9%">&nbsp;</td><td width="9%">&nbsp;</td><td width="9%">&nbsp;</td></tr></table><p><br />
<span class="UID_22658 ">Briarwood Heartseekers (1) move closer to get better shots.<br><br />
</span>Monsters (2) advance towards the enemy.<br><br />
<br/><br><br />
<span style="color: white;"><b>Total hits suffered: Attackers: 0 (0 from close combat and 0 from ranged), Defenders: 0 (0 from close combat and 0 from ranged)</b></span><br><br />
<P><span style="color: white;"><b>Turn No. 3</b></span><br><table style="background-color: #004000; width: 100%;" border="2"><tr><td width="9%">&nbsp;</td><td width="9%">&nbsp;</td><td width="9%">&nbsp;</td><td width="9%"><span style="color: #FF6464;"><span class="UID_22658 ">1&nbsp;(23-A)<br></span></span></td><td width="9%">&nbsp;</td><td width="9%"><span style="color: #9696FF;">2&nbsp;(10-M)<br></span></td><td width="9%">&nbsp;</td><td width="9%">&nbsp;</td><td width="9%">&nbsp;</td><td width="9%">&nbsp;</td><td width="9%">&nbsp;</td></tr></table><p><br />
<span class="UID_22658 ">Briarwood Heartseekers (1) fire on Monsters (2), scoring 236 hits.<br><br />
</span><span style="color: white;"><b>Total ranged hits suffered: Attackers: 0, Defenders: 236</b></span><br><br />
Monsters (2) advance towards the enemy.<br><br />
<br/><br><br />
Monsters (2) take 236 hits from archer fire, which cause 2 casualties.<br><br />
<span style="color: white;"><b>Total hits suffered: Attackers: 0 (0 from close combat and 0 from ranged), Defenders: 236 (0 from close combat and 236 from ranged)</b></span><br><br />
<span style="color: white;"><b>Total casualties: 0 attackers, 2 defenders</b></span><br><br />
<P><span style="color: white;"><b>Turn No. 4</b></span><br><table style="background-color: #004000; width: 100%;" border="2"><tr><td width="9%">&nbsp;</td><td width="9%">&nbsp;</td><td width="9%">&nbsp;</td><td width="9%"><span style="color: #FF6464;"><span class="UID_22658 ">1&nbsp;(23-A)<br></span></span></td><td width="9%"><span style="color: #9696FF;">2&nbsp;(8-M)<br></span></td><td width="9%">&nbsp;</td><td width="9%">&nbsp;</td><td width="9%">&nbsp;</td><td width="9%">&nbsp;</td><td width="9%">&nbsp;</td><td width="9%">&nbsp;</td></tr></table><p><br />
<span class="UID_22658 ">Briarwood Heartseekers (1) fire on Monsters (2), scoring 158 hits.<br><br />
</span><span style="color: white;"><b>Total ranged hits suffered: Attackers: 0, Defenders: 158</b></span><br><br />
Monsters (2) advance towards the enemy.<br><br />
<br/><br><span style="color: white;">Close Combat (Attacker Line 2):</span><br><br />
<span style="color: #E0E0FF;">2 Perdan banners are visible in the melee.</span><br><br />
<span class="UID_22658 UID_ ">Briarwood Heartseekers (1) score 54 hits on Monsters (2).<br><br />
</span><span class="UID_ UID_22658 ">Monsters (2) score 217 hits on Briarwood Heartseekers (1).<br><br />
</span><span style="color: white;"><b>Total close combat hits suffered: Attackers: 217, Defenders: 54</b></span><br><br />
<br><br />
<span class="UID_22658 ">Briarwood Heartseekers (1) take 217 hits in close combat, which cause 6 casualties.<br><br />
</span>Monsters (2) take 212 hits (54 in close combat, 158 from archer fire), which cause 2 casualties, making the unit retreat from the battlefield.<br><br />
<span style="color: white;"><b>Total hits suffered: Attackers: 217 (217 from close combat and 0 from ranged), Defenders: 212 (54 from close combat and 158 from ranged)</b></span><br><br />
<span style="color: white;"><b>Total casualties: 6 attackers, 2 defenders</b></span><br><br />
<p><b><span style="color: #FFC0C0;">Attacker Victory!</span></b><br><br />
<P>The locals are grateful for defeating the evil forces plaguing their region. <br/></p><br />
|Title=<a name="#battle">Battle in Clermont</a><br />
|Signature=}}<br />
<br />
{{BMMessage<br />
|Width=80<br />
|Type=Personal<br />
|Sent=Wed Aug 9, 2023 00:10:56<br />
|Recipients=(Personal message)<br />
|Content=<p>Your unit participated in a battle in Clermont. Your scribe has written down a <a href="ShowScribeNote.php?noteId=884881" target="_blank">battle report</a>.<br><p>The battle lasted for 2 hours.<br><br />
You have gained 3 Honour and 1 Prestige.<br><br />
3 of your men were killed and 3 were wounded in this battle.<br><br />
Your men's equipment suffers 7 % damage. Combat training increases by 4 points. Unit cohesion rises 5 points. <br><br />
</p><br />
|Title=Battle Results<br />
|Signature=}}<br />
{{BMMessage<br />
|Width=80<br />
|Type=Roleplay<br />
|Sent=Wed Aug 9, 2023 02:36:13<br />
|Sender=Lilyana Briarwood|Recipients=Message sent to all nobles of Perdan (20 recipients)<br />
|Content=<p><u><strong>Lilyana: Clearing Clermont PT 1</strong></u><br />
<p>Lilyana stood on the crest of a hill overlooking the rolling fields of the Clermont region. Her attire was a suit of practical leather armour. Her presence exuded an air of tranquillity and authority, drawing the eyes of her fellow archers, the Heartseekers, who stood at the ready, bows in hand.</p><br />
<br />
<p>"They hide in the forest," Lilyana's voice, soft and mysterious, reached her younger brother, Malachi, who stood nearby with a focused intensity. His eyes, a mirror of determination, met hers briefly as they shared an unspoken understanding.</p><br />
<br />
<p>"I know how to make them charge," Malachi's response came quick and certain, a fire burning behind his words. Unsheathing his sword, he spurred his horse forward, charging into the depths of the woods with a fierce resolve.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Lilyana's lips curled into a bittersweet smile, a blend of pride and apprehension. With a soft, almost resigned sigh, she murmured to herself, "Always the hero."</p><br />
<br />
<p>Moments later, the forest spat forth Malachi, his blade glistening with the dark green blood of the beasts. Following him, a grotesque horde of furred and fanged creatures emerged, charging in blind fury. Lilyana raised her arm, a gesture that signalled her archers to advance.</p><br />
<br />
<p>The Heartseekers, visibly fearful but resolute, took hesitant steps forward. The ground beneath their feet seemed shaky, for this was their first true battle, a baptism of fire that had been whispered about in the campfires' glow. As Malachi got behind the Heartseekers, Lilyana motioned for her archers to halt. They obeyed, nervously nocking their arrows. She drew her own sword, a shimmering silver blade adorned with winding metal vines and thorns. Its brilliance caught the sunlight, sending glimmers dancing across the field.</p><br />
<br />
<p>The Heartseekers drew back their arrows as Lilyana pointed her sword towards the approaching beasts. Her voice, soft yet commanding, drifted through the air. "Steady, my Heartseekers." As the beasts drew near, a voice brimming with energy erupted from the heart of the fray. "Loose!" Malachi's command rang out, prompting the Heartseekers to release a volley of arrows that struck down some of the charging monsters.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Then, a new command echoed, swift and fierce. "Draw swords! Charge!" Malachi's mount surged forward, leading the Heartseekers in a headlong rush into the brutal melee. The clash of steel on fur, the scream of men and the roars of beasts, coalesced into a symphony of chaos.<br /><br />
<br /><br />
Lilyana took a step back, her eyes wide and intense as she watched the two forces collide. The raw intensity of the melee enveloped them all, painting the fields in shades of red and green as blood flowed freely.</p><br />
</p><br />
|Title=Roleplay from Lilyana Briarwood<br />
|Signature=}}<br />
<br />
{{BMMessage<br />
|Width=80<br />
|Type=Roleplay<br />
|Sent=Wed Aug 9, 2023 02:55:39<br />
|Sender=Lilyana Briarwood|Recipients=Message sent to all nobles of Perdan (20 recipients)<br />
|Content=<p><u><strong>Lilyana: Clearing Clermont PT 2</strong></u><br />
<p>Time warped and stretched as the battle raged on, an endless flurry of blades and teeth. Malachi's prowess was evident as he cut down one of the beasts, his movements fluid and precise. The Heartseekers, their fear melting into fierce determination, swarmed another creature, bringing it down with a collective effort.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Almost half an hour passed, the air thick with the scent of sweat and the metallic tang of blood. And then, as abruptly as it had begun, the beasts retreated, their whimpers and yelps mixing with the sounds of their hurried escape.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Cheers erupted among the Heartseekers and Malachi, a moment of triumphant exultation. But it was short-lived, for the injured required attention. Amid the aftermath, Malachi's gaze darted around, seeking his sister. His worry intensified as he failed to spot her amongst the Heartseekers. His concern transformed into relief when he heard a soft, soothing melody in the distance. He found her sitting beside a dying Heartseeker. He recognised her. She was a newer recruit named Ebony. She was one of the miller's daughters, he noted.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Ebony's body bore the gruesome wounds of the battle, her pain etched into her every laboured breath. Her torn and injured form rested against Lilyana's lap as she sang softly, a soothing lullaby that mingled with the wind's gentle caress. Ebony's weak voice reached Malachi's ears, prompting him to approach her. Their hushed exchange held a mix of warmth and sorrow.<br /><br />
<br /><br />
"Did we win, sir?" Ebony asked, her voice barely above a whisper.</p><br />
<br />
<p>A tear glistened in Malachi's eyes as he replied, "Yes, we did."</p><br />
<br />
<p>"Did... did I help...make a difference?" Her voice trembled.</p><br />
<br />
<p>"You did," Malachi assured her, his grip on her hand tightening. Ebony winced in pain but managed a weak smile.</p><br />
<br />
<p>"It hurts...so much. I am scared," Ebony whispered, her voice laden with agony.<br /><br />
<br /><br />
Malachi's tears fell freely as he held her hand, his voice breaking, "I know, it's ok, you won't die, Ebony. You'll be okay, I promise."<br /><br />
<br /><br />
After a few moments, Lilyana's song faded, replaced by a sombre sigh. She sighed, her eyes meeting Malachi's, shaking her head ever so softly. She closed Ebony's eyes and tenderly moved her head from her lap, rising to her feet. Her gaze wandered over the battlefield.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Surveying the aftermath, Lilyana's gaze lingered on the fallen Heartseekers, her voice a low whisper of apology to the departed souls. She closed her eyes and clasped her hands. "May the winds of fate gift thee with kinder futures in thy next life," her words a soft-spoken prayer.</p><br />
<br />
<p>With a heavy heart, Lilyana turned to Malachi. "Perhaps, we should celebrate this victory. The men all fought well," she mused, her tone carrying a sense of uncertainty.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Malachi's response held a rare uncertainty, his voice quick and purposeful. "I don't know...it doesn't feel like a victory."</p><br />
<br />
<p>Malachi's unsure response led them to stand in silent contemplation. Lilyana's arms enveloped Malachi in an unexpected hug, drawing him close. "I'm grateful thee art safe," she murmured, her voice filled with relief and concern. "But don't charge ahead carelessly next time. Thee art important to me, little brother."</p><br />
<br />
<p>Malachi nodded, his apology sincere as he returned the hug. Their embrace ended, and Lilyana's command resonated through the air. "Bury the fallen, tend to the wounded, and set up camp. Clermont won't be free of these creatures until we've cleared them all."</p><br />
<br />
<p>As the Heartseekers set to work, digging graves and erecting tents, Malachi slipped away to lend his hand. Lilyana watched him go, a subtle regret weighing on her heart as she noted his sorrow and distress.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Lilyana gazed into the woods, a determination etching itself into her otherwise calm expression. "We won't let such creatures slaughter unchallenged, not ever," she softly spoke, her voice a quiet vow that hung in the air, a promise made to the wind.</p><br />
</p><br />
|Title=Roleplay from Lilyana Briarwood<br />
|Signature=}}</div>Marcus Daubenyhttps://wiki.battlemaster.org/index.php?title=Briarwood_Family/Liliyana/Clearing_Clermont&diff=218225Briarwood Family/Liliyana/Clearing Clermont2023-08-09T05:46:03Z<p>Marcus Daubeny: Created page with "{{BMMessage |Width=80 |Type=Personal |Sent=Wed Aug 9, 2023 00:10:55 |Recipients=message to all nobles participating in the battle in Clermont |Content=<p><table bgcolor=#00003..."</p>
<hr />
<div>{{BMMessage<br />
|Width=80<br />
|Type=Personal<br />
|Sent=Wed Aug 9, 2023 00:10:55<br />
|Recipients=message to all nobles participating in the battle in Clermont<br />
|Content=<p><table bgcolor=#000032><tr><th>No.</th><th>Role</th><th>Army</th><th>Unit</th><th>Commander</th><th>Realm</th><th>Unit</th><th>Formation</th><th>CS</th></tr><br />
<tr><td style="text-align: center;">1</td><td style="text-align: center;">A</td><td></td><td>Briarwood Heartseekers</td><td>Lilyana</td><td style="text-align: center;">Perdan</td><td style="text-align: center;">23&nbsp;Arch</td><td style="text-align: center;">line</td><td style="text-align: right;">&nbsp;&nbsp;326</td></tr><br />
<tr><td style="text-align: center;">2</td><td style="text-align: center;">D</td><td></td><td>Monsters</td><td><i>(Monsters)</i></td><td style="text-align: center;">(rogue)</td><td style="text-align: center;">10&nbsp;other</td><td style="text-align: center;">line</td><td style="text-align: right;">&nbsp;&nbsp;505</td></tr><br />
</table><br><br />
Total:<br>1 attackers (23 Arch)<br>1 defenders (10 other)<br>Total combat strengths: 326 vs. 505<br><p><br />
The troops from (rogue) set up defenses because they control the battlefield.<br><br />
The Perdan troops attack because they are at war with (rogue).<br><br />
<br>A calm wind blows, to the joy of the archers.<br><P><span style="font-size: 80%; text-align: center;">(legend: I=Infantry, M=Mixed Inf, A=Archers, C=Cavalry, S=Special Forces, U=Undead, M=Monsters)</span><br><br />
<span style="color: white;"><b>Turn No. 1</b></span><br><table style="background-color: #004000; width: 100%;" border="2"><tr><td width="9%">&nbsp;</td><td width="9%"><span style="color: #FF6464;"><span class="UID_22658 ">1&nbsp;(23-A)<br></span></span></td><td width="9%">&nbsp;</td><td width="9%">&nbsp;</td><td width="9%">&nbsp;</td><td width="9%">&nbsp;</td><td width="9%">&nbsp;</td><td width="9%"><span style="color: #9696FF;">2&nbsp;(10-M)<br></span></td><td width="9%">&nbsp;</td><td width="9%">&nbsp;</td><td width="9%">&nbsp;</td></tr></table><p><br />
<span class="UID_22658 ">Briarwood Heartseekers (1) move closer to get better shots.<br><br />
</span>Monsters (2) advance towards the enemy.<br><br />
<br/><br><br />
<span style="color: white;"><b>Total hits suffered: Attackers: 0 (0 from close combat and 0 from ranged), Defenders: 0 (0 from close combat and 0 from ranged)</b></span><br><br />
<P><span style="color: white;"><b>Turn No. 2</b></span><br><table style="background-color: #004000; width: 100%;" border="2"><tr><td width="9%">&nbsp;</td><td width="9%">&nbsp;</td><td width="9%"><span style="color: #FF6464;"><span class="UID_22658 ">1&nbsp;(23-A)<br></span></span></td><td width="9%">&nbsp;</td><td width="9%">&nbsp;</td><td width="9%">&nbsp;</td><td width="9%"><span style="color: #9696FF;">2&nbsp;(10-M)<br></span></td><td width="9%">&nbsp;</td><td width="9%">&nbsp;</td><td width="9%">&nbsp;</td><td width="9%">&nbsp;</td></tr></table><p><br />
<span class="UID_22658 ">Briarwood Heartseekers (1) move closer to get better shots.<br><br />
</span>Monsters (2) advance towards the enemy.<br><br />
<br/><br><br />
<span style="color: white;"><b>Total hits suffered: Attackers: 0 (0 from close combat and 0 from ranged), Defenders: 0 (0 from close combat and 0 from ranged)</b></span><br><br />
<P><span style="color: white;"><b>Turn No. 3</b></span><br><table style="background-color: #004000; width: 100%;" border="2"><tr><td width="9%">&nbsp;</td><td width="9%">&nbsp;</td><td width="9%">&nbsp;</td><td width="9%"><span style="color: #FF6464;"><span class="UID_22658 ">1&nbsp;(23-A)<br></span></span></td><td width="9%">&nbsp;</td><td width="9%"><span style="color: #9696FF;">2&nbsp;(10-M)<br></span></td><td width="9%">&nbsp;</td><td width="9%">&nbsp;</td><td width="9%">&nbsp;</td><td width="9%">&nbsp;</td><td width="9%">&nbsp;</td></tr></table><p><br />
<span class="UID_22658 ">Briarwood Heartseekers (1) fire on Monsters (2), scoring 236 hits.<br><br />
</span><span style="color: white;"><b>Total ranged hits suffered: Attackers: 0, Defenders: 236</b></span><br><br />
Monsters (2) advance towards the enemy.<br><br />
<br/><br><br />
Monsters (2) take 236 hits from archer fire, which cause 2 casualties.<br><br />
<span style="color: white;"><b>Total hits suffered: Attackers: 0 (0 from close combat and 0 from ranged), Defenders: 236 (0 from close combat and 236 from ranged)</b></span><br><br />
<span style="color: white;"><b>Total casualties: 0 attackers, 2 defenders</b></span><br><br />
<P><span style="color: white;"><b>Turn No. 4</b></span><br><table style="background-color: #004000; width: 100%;" border="2"><tr><td width="9%">&nbsp;</td><td width="9%">&nbsp;</td><td width="9%">&nbsp;</td><td width="9%"><span style="color: #FF6464;"><span class="UID_22658 ">1&nbsp;(23-A)<br></span></span></td><td width="9%"><span style="color: #9696FF;">2&nbsp;(8-M)<br></span></td><td width="9%">&nbsp;</td><td width="9%">&nbsp;</td><td width="9%">&nbsp;</td><td width="9%">&nbsp;</td><td width="9%">&nbsp;</td><td width="9%">&nbsp;</td></tr></table><p><br />
<span class="UID_22658 ">Briarwood Heartseekers (1) fire on Monsters (2), scoring 158 hits.<br><br />
</span><span style="color: white;"><b>Total ranged hits suffered: Attackers: 0, Defenders: 158</b></span><br><br />
Monsters (2) advance towards the enemy.<br><br />
<br/><br><span style="color: white;">Close Combat (Attacker Line 2):</span><br><br />
<span style="color: #E0E0FF;">2 Perdan banners are visible in the melee.</span><br><br />
<span class="UID_22658 UID_ ">Briarwood Heartseekers (1) score 54 hits on Monsters (2).<br><br />
</span><span class="UID_ UID_22658 ">Monsters (2) score 217 hits on Briarwood Heartseekers (1).<br><br />
</span><span style="color: white;"><b>Total close combat hits suffered: Attackers: 217, Defenders: 54</b></span><br><br />
<br><br />
<span class="UID_22658 ">Briarwood Heartseekers (1) take 217 hits in close combat, which cause 6 casualties.<br><br />
</span>Monsters (2) take 212 hits (54 in close combat, 158 from archer fire), which cause 2 casualties, making the unit retreat from the battlefield.<br><br />
<span style="color: white;"><b>Total hits suffered: Attackers: 217 (217 from close combat and 0 from ranged), Defenders: 212 (54 from close combat and 158 from ranged)</b></span><br><br />
<span style="color: white;"><b>Total casualties: 6 attackers, 2 defenders</b></span><br><br />
<p><b><span style="color: #FFC0C0;">Attacker Victory!</span></b><br><br />
<P>The locals are grateful for defeating the evil forces plaguing their region. <br/></p><br />
|Title=<a name="#battle">Battle in Clermont</a><br />
|Signature=}}<br />
<br />
{{BMMessage<br />
|Width=80<br />
|Type=Personal<br />
|Sent=Wed Aug 9, 2023 00:10:56<br />
|Recipients=(Personal message)<br />
|Content=<p>Your unit participated in a battle in Clermont. Your scribe has written down a <a href="ShowScribeNote.php?noteId=884881" target="_blank">battle report</a>.<br><p>The battle lasted for 2 hours.<br><br />
You have gained 3 Honour and 1 Prestige.<br><br />
3 of your men were killed and 3 were wounded in this battle.<br><br />
Your men's equipment suffers 7 % damage. Combat training increases by 4 points. Unit cohesion rises 5 points. <br><br />
</p><br />
|Title=Battle Results<br />
|Signature=}}</div>Marcus Daubenyhttps://wiki.battlemaster.org/index.php?title=Briarwood_Family/Liliyana&diff=218224Briarwood Family/Liliyana2023-08-09T05:45:38Z<p>Marcus Daubeny: </p>
<hr />
<div>[[File:lilyana_Briarwood.jpg]]<br />
<br />
{{Quotation| May the winds of fate guide you well come daybreak.|Lilyana Briarwood}}<br />
<br />
As the eldest child of Morgyn and Elias Briarwood, her very existence was a surprise, born on the night her parents consummated their wedding, catching the young nobles off-guard. They had not expected parenthood so soon, and Lilyana's arrival brought both joy and trepidation.<br />
<br />
As an infant, Lilyana was a fussy and difficult baby, the complete opposite of the serene and composed woman she would grow into. Yet, as the years passed, she transformed into an enigma, marked by her peculiar way of speaking and an unwavering calmness about her, regardless of the circumstances.<br />
<br />
Throughout her childhood, she exhibited unusual behaviours that set her apart from her peers. Often, she would be found in the family's garden, softly singing to herself, claiming she sang for their ancestors. Her passion for singing and dancing was evident, but she displayed no interest in learning the art of combat, a stark contrast to her cousin Zayn, who pursued martial skills ardently.<br />
<br />
Beyond her mysterious nature, Lilyana's heart brimmed with adoration for her younger siblings. She played an active role in raising and teaching them, cherishing their presence and offering them unwavering support and love.<br />
<br />
On her fifteenth birthday, Lilyana graced her family with a mesmerizing performance that brought tears to the eyes of everyone present, except for her younger sister Gwendolyn, who remained unfeeling and emotionless, an enigma of her own.<br />
<br />
In her later teen years, Lilyana's alluring personality and appearance attracted numerous suitors, but she skillfully evaded any marital arrangements, preferring her independence. While many were captivated by her flirtatious and provocative manner, she remained elusive, keeping her heart guarded.<br />
<br />
To prepare her for the responsibilities that came with being the heir of the Briarwood House, Lilyana underwent rigorous tutelage. She delved into the intricacies of finances, honed her leadership skills to command troops, and learned the nuances of high society. This, however, ruffled the feathers of her cousin Zayn, who believed he should have been the rightful heir as the eldest male.<br />
<br />
At the age of twenty-four, an unfortunate event led to a falling out with Zayn. In a drunken tirade, he spewed insults and vile words at Lilyana, branding her as a witless whore and other such insults. Remarkably, Lilyana retained her composure, never losing her small, polite smile in the face of his aggression. However, the situation escalated when her younger sister Gwendolyn challenged Zayn to a duel in defence of Lilyana's honour.<br />
<br />
Seeing her sister's life at stake, Lilyana grew deeply worried for Gwendolyn. Nevertheless, Gwendolyn proved to be a formidable opponent, shocking the family by easily defeating Zayn and severing three fingers from his dominant sword hand.<br />
<br />
In the aftermath of the duel, Lilyana's attempts to speak with Gwendolyn were met with aloofness, causing her considerable distress and heartache. Unbeknownst to her, Gwendolyn had set off on a journey to Dwilight, leaving behind only an air of mystery.<br />
<br />
Undeterred by the absence of her sister, Lilyana focused on the well-being of Prospero Square and her noble duties. With grace and dedication, she assumed the role of the Dame of Aix, ascending the ranks of Perdan's nobility and embracing whatever challenges fate would present.<br />
<br />
==Roleplays==<br />
*[[/A Ball in Prospero/]]<br />
*[[/Clearing Clermont/]]</div>Marcus Daubenyhttps://wiki.battlemaster.org/index.php?title=Briarwood_Family/Gwendolyn/From_Askileon,_to_Glory&diff=218223Briarwood Family/Gwendolyn/From Askileon, to Glory2023-08-09T05:41:51Z<p>Marcus Daubeny: Created page with "{{BMMessage |Width=80 |Type=Roleplay |Sent=Wed Aug 9, 2023 01:40:55 |Sender=Gwendolyn Briarwood|Recipients=Message sent to all nobles of Luria Nova (25 recipients) |Content=<p..."</p>
<hr />
<div>{{BMMessage<br />
|Width=80<br />
|Type=Roleplay<br />
|Sent=Wed Aug 9, 2023 01:40:55<br />
|Sender=Gwendolyn Briarwood|Recipients=Message sent to all nobles of Luria Nova (25 recipients)<br />
|Content=<p><u><strong>Gwendolyn: From Askileon, To Glory</strong></u></p><br />
<br />
<p>In the heart of Askileon, a city of opulence and influence, Gwendolyn traversed the labyrinthine alleys, her steps a measured cadence in a world alive with bustling energy. The echoes of voices, a symphony of vendors and pedestrians, swirled around her as she glided through the maze of life. The city exhaled an orchestra of sound. The symphony of voices blended with the melodic barks of street-haunting canines and the ceaseless chirps of birds perched above. The rhythmic clatter of carts rumbled beneath, a percussive dance punctuated by the measured cadence of the city guard's march. The air was an aromatic tapestry woven with the tang of the sea, a reminder of Askileon's proximity to the ocean. Smoke curled lazily from nearby alleyways, casting a musky allure upon the wind. Amidst the vibrant symphony of the capital, Gwendolyn moved, a figure of stark contrast in her black attire, her piercing sapphire eyes seemingly untouched by the swirl of life surrounding her.</p><br />
<br />
<p>In one quiet, shadowy alley, a drunkard, emboldened by his spirits, stumbled forth to accost Gwendolyn. His intent was robbery, his demeanor brash and predatory. Yet, as his fingers brushed against her cloak, her gaze met his with an unsettling intensity. A strange stillness emanated from her as she countered his aggression with cryptic menace, her voice devoid of inflection.</p><br />
<br />
<p>"Thy path is ill-chosen, for shadows do not yield what you seek."</p><br />
<br />
<p>His eyes widened, his bravado wilting before her enigmatic presence. He backed away, stuttering apologies, and Gwendolyn resumed her journey to the recruitment centers nestled nearby.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Hood lowered, her sapphire gaze swept the hall, assessing the elite soldiers present, their auras of authority palpable. Unit commanders conversed, adorned in heraldic splendor, yet Gwendolyn remained unmoved, unsure of her choice. She approached unit commanders, her inquiries concise and probing, searching for an allegiance that matched her unspoken design.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Unit after unit, their leaders paraded their merits before her, each vying for her patronage. Gwendolyn's gaze held a discerning cold as she observed them.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Ultimately, her path led her to the outskirts of the hall, where a woman named Elvira stood. Clad in bronze lamellar, wielding a long spear, Elvira's presence exuded strength. Gwendolyn's words were calculated, her conversation with Elvira a delicate dance of words meant to ensnare allegiance. In the midst of their discourse, a presence intruded—the insolent figure of Theo, captain of the neighboring unit. Ego dripped from him, his eyes lingering on Gwendolyn with a flirtatious spark.</p><br />
<br />
<p>"Ah, the fair Dame of Giask has graced us with her presence," Theo purred, flexing his arm for emphasis. "My men, the Margarethan Axemasters, are more than worthy of your attention."</p><br />
<br />
<p>Gwendolyn's reply was as curt as it was cutting. "Ego blazes as an inferno, yet ego doesn't bring victory." Their conversation unveiled the potential of the Sallowtown Spearmen, but Theo persisted. Gwendolyn's patience waned, and her attention turned back to Elvira, the decision solidifying as they exchanged words, uninterrupted by Theo's muttered objections.</p><br />
<br />
<p>"Theo, thy display lacks substance," Gwendolyn remarked, her words piercing his facade. An unspoken tension lingered as the rejected captain sulked away, his wounded pride trailing behind him.</p><br />
<br />
<p>The choice was made, allegiance sealed in gold. With the agreement reached, time flowed like a river, carrying them to the cusp of dawn as they left Askileon. The first light of day kissed the horizon as Gwendolyn strode ahead of her men, an ethereal figure cutting through the encroaching light, her countenance fixed and unyielding, unfazed by the march's exertions.</p><br />
<br />
<p>In the shadows of early morning, a Blackshield stepped forward, breaking her reverie. "Milady, some horses have been replaced with lame ones. Speed may falter."</p><br />
<br />
<p>Gwendolyn's flat tone betrayed no surprise. "Negligence shadows us like a hawk. Halt. Rest. Correct the sabotage."</p><br />
<br />
<p>A plan formed, and her orders were dispatched. Able horses would be ridden back to Askileon, their replacements procured. She observed the signpost that pointed the way to Ciarin Tut, her destination set. Once the camp was established, her tent erected, she turned her attention to the men by her side.</p><br />
<br />
<p>"Efficiency merits acknowledgment. Gratitude."</p><br />
<br />
<p>As twilight blended into daybreak, Gwendolyn reclined in her tent, settling onto a fur blanket, her gaze traced the canopy that mimicked the night sky. As the sun's tendrils painted the world anew, Gwendolyn's eyes slipped shut, her visage a mask of serene calm amidst the dawn's embrace.</p><br />
<br />
|Title=Roleplay from Gwendolyn Briarwood<br />
|Signature=}}</div>Marcus Daubenyhttps://wiki.battlemaster.org/index.php?title=Briarwood_Family/Gwendolyn&diff=218222Briarwood Family/Gwendolyn2023-08-09T05:41:45Z<p>Marcus Daubeny: </p>
<hr />
<div>[[File:Gwendolyn_Briarwood.jpg]]<br />
<br />
{{Quotation| May the winds of fate find thee well, come the eventide.|Gwendolyn Briarwood}}<br />
<br />
Born as the second eldest child to Morgyn and Elias Briarwood, her arrival into the world was marred by an eerie silence, causing her family to believe her life had slipped away. Yet, Gwendolyn defied expectations from the start, exuding a tranquillity unusual for a newborn, unlike her older sister Lilyana and younger brother Malachi, who often wailed and fussed.<br />
<br />
Throughout her childhood, Gwendolyn's peculiarities only intensified, creating an aura of mystique around her. She was often caught lost in thought, staring into the distance in the strangest of places as if gazing at unseen realms. Instead of embracing the usual feminine pursuits of her family, she took a keen interest in combat and duelling, following the footsteps of her older cousin Zayn rather than her sister Lilyana's passion for singing and dancing.<br />
<br />
On her sixteenth birthday, Elias gifted her a sword, an acknowledgment of her unconventional desires. From then on, she immersed herself in rigorous training, dedicating countless hours to mastering the art of the blade. Gwendolyn's skill with the sword was astonishing, and she became known for her grace when fighting.<br />
<br />
As she entered her later teen years, Gwendolyn displayed a lack of interest in romantic entanglements and dismissed the numerous flirtations and marriage proposals she received, regardless of the suitor's gender. Her indifference to societal norms further intensified the rumours surrounding her enigmatic nature.<br />
<br />
At the age of nineteen, a fateful event led to a dramatic falling out with her cousin Zayn. Intoxicated and spiteful, Zayn hurled vile insults at Lilyana, degrading her with cruel words. Fueled by her duty to her sister and a sense of justice, Gwendolyn demanded a duel with Zayn, challenging him to account for his actions. To the astonishment of her family and a gathered crowd at Prospero Square in [[Aix]], she easily bested him, disarming him by cutting off three fingers from his dominant hand. <br />
<br />
In a chilling display of cold indifference, she rebuked Zayn, exposing the long-held family secret of his birth, branding him an unworthy Briarwood and a bastard child, shattering his and his father Asher's reputation in the public eye.<br />
<br />
In the wake of the tumultuous confrontation, Gwendolyn became reclusive, distancing herself from her family. She appeared only when summoned by her father, displaying a cold detachment from her family which hurt her sister and brother. <br />
<br />
When Elias decided to send her to Dwilight to expand the family's influence in Luria Nova, she accepted the order without hesitation, seemingly unaffected by the prospect of leaving her home behind. She left her ancestral home in Aix behind and set forth on a journey to the continent of Dwilight. She arrived in the illustrious Ascendancy of Luria Nova and found her place as a Dame of the City of Giask, residing in its golden palace, far from the gossip and expectations of her former life.<br />
<br />
==Roleplays==<br />
<br />
*[[/Training in Giask/]]<br />
*[[/A Chance at Glory/]]<br />
*[[/From Askileon, to Glory/]]</div>Marcus Daubenyhttps://wiki.battlemaster.org/index.php?title=Briarwood_Family/Gwendolyn/A_Chance_at_Glory&diff=218214Briarwood Family/Gwendolyn/A Chance at Glory2023-08-08T16:05:30Z<p>Marcus Daubeny: </p>
<hr />
<div>{{BMMessage<br />
|Width=80<br />
|Type=Roleplay<br />
|Sent=Mon Aug 7, 2023 21:27:52<br />
|Sender=Gwendolyn Briarwood|Recipients=Message sent to all nobles of Luria Nova (24 recipients)<br />
|Content=<p><u><strong>Gwendolyn: A Chance at Glory</strong></u><br />
<p>The afternoon sun cast its golden rays upon the bustling docks of Giask, where Lady Gwendolyn Briarwood, dressed in black stained and hardened leather armour adorned with the Briarwood Crest, stood with her unit of twenty-one men, the Briarwood Blackshields. They were gathered on a sturdy ship made of polished cedar, aptly named "The Veil of Briar," readying to set sail on a perilous voyage to Tomb Island to the region of Quebel.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Beside Lady Gwendolyn stood the young ship captain, Thomas, who worked under her father, Elias Briarwood. His eyes darted nervously as he glanced at the Blackshields and then back to Lady Gwendolyn, who wore her long black hair tied in a braid, her piercing sapphire eyes seemingly devoid of any emotion as she watched the horizon.</p><br />
<br />
<p>"Ah, lass," Thomas hesitated, "perhaps it would be wise tae wait fer yer household guard tae be better prepared. They lack experience, still wet behind the ears these lads are, green as grass, and the Tomb Island is nae place fer the unseasoned."</p><br />
<br />
<p>Gwendolyn's voice remained flat and emotionless as she replied, "Thy concern is unnecessary. We depart at eventide."</p><br />
<br />
<p>Thomas spluttered at the retort, "That's...but, my lady. I—"</p><br />
<br />
<p>Gwendolyn interrupted him with cold words, "When the army currently south returns to celebrate their victory and glory after having fought and bled for weeks, I shall not stand amongst them with an unscarred body and a pristine blade."</p><br />
<br />
<p>Thomas looked at her with concern and said, "You know, lass, ye hardly seem dressed to face the monsters of Quebel yerself."</p><br />
<br />
<p>"I said I require no further concern, Captain," Gwendolyn interrupted him, her gaze unyielding. "Ready the ship."</p><br />
<br />
<p>She descended from the ship, her footsteps echoing on the wooden planks of the dock. Gwendolyn began helping her unit and the sailors load supplies onto the ship, her words sharp as she addressed her men and the crew, "Inefficient. Disappointing."</p><br />
<br />
<p>Her unit hurried to keep up, embarrassment evident in their eyes as they worked diligently to quicken their pace. Lady Gwendolyn's demeanour may have seemed cold, but her unit knew her intentions were to instil discipline and strength in the men. The sounds of the docks enveloped them—the creaking of The Veil of Briar as the sea gently rocked it, the clamour of people and sailors busily engaged in their tasks, the distant calls of seabirds, and the soothing rush of the waves caressing the shore.</p><br />
<br />
<p>As the preparations continued, Gwendolyn allowed herself a moment of introspection. Could her men truly prevail against the savage beasts of Quebel? It mattered little, she realized. Win or lose, and she was determined to show the realm that she was no coward.</p><br />
<br />
<p>With the supplies finally loaded, Gwendolyn put down the crate upon reaching the ship's deck. With the preparations finally complete, Gwendolyn surveyed her unit and the sailors, her face still devoid of any emotion. "Rest now, for we have a long voyage ahead," she declared in her flat and blunt voice, her words carrying an air of authority. "May the winds of fate guide us to victory."</p><br />
<br />
<p>In unison, the Blackshields replied, their voices resolute, "May the winds of fate shield us in the wars to come."</p><br />
<br />
<p>Subtly nodding in acknowledgment, Gwendolyn motioned to her men that they were dismissed. As the Blackshields dispersed to find their rest, she turned and walked with unwavering purpose toward the captain's cabin. The night ahead held countless uncertainties, and her mind was focused solely on the challenges that lay ahead.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Inside the cabin, she closed the door, the sounds of the ship gradually fading into the background. Alone in the dimly lit room, Gwendolyn finally allowed herself a moment to reflect, her face still devoid of emotion. With a stoic resolve, she prepared herself for the voyage to come, knowing that the trials they would face on Tomb Island would test not only her men's mettle but her own.</p><br />
<br />
<p>As the night deepened and the ship left port, Gwendolyn remained within the captain's cabin. Her thoughts shrouded in cryptic silence. The winds of fate had set them on this perilous path, and she would navigate it with unwavering determination, ready to face whatever monsters and challenges awaited them in the region of Quebel.</p><br />
</p><br />
|Title=Roleplay from Gwendolyn Briarwood<br />
|Signature=}}<br />
<br />
{{BMMessage<br />
|Width=80<br />
|Type=Roleplay<br />
|Sent=Tue Aug 8, 2023 01:23:49<br />
|Sender=Gwendolyn Briarwood|Recipients=Message sent to all nobles of Luria Nova (24 recipients)<br />
|Content=<p><strong><u>Gwendolyn: A Chance for Glory and a Change of Fate</u></strong></p><br />
<br />
<p>The captain's cabin aboard The Veil of Briar was dimly lit, the soft glow of oil lamps casting dancing shadows across the wooden walls. The ship swayed gently on the sea, the creaking of timbers and the rhythmic sounds of waves against the hull creating a symphony of the maritime morning. Seabirds cried out in the distance, their calls blending with the whisper of the wind. Amidst this orchestration of nature, Gwendolyn sat alone at a round table, her long black hair cascading down her shoulders, melding with the pitch black of her undergarments, her sapphire eyes piercing and unmoving.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Upon the table, before her lay a map, a tableau of military and monstrous movements played out with wooden pieces. Gwendolyn's fingers toyed with a murky grey crystal orb, her expression unchanging as she muttered to herself in cryptic cadence, her voice devoid of emotion. "Winds of fate... the ebb and flow... where do thee send me..."</p><br />
<br />
<p>Abruptly, the cabin's door swung open, revealing a figure at its threshold. The man, a member of her loyal guard, the Blackshields, his left hand hastily shielding his eyes from the unexpected sight of Gwendolyn in her undergarments, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment. He stammered out an apology. She ignored the soldier's embarrassment.</p><br />
<br />
<p>"Why this morn?" she inquired, her eyes finally shifting from the map to the man before her.</p><br />
<br />
<p>"It is a letter, my lady," he managed to stammer, his gaze now fixed upon the ceiling in his discomfiture. "A... request... from the Heliacal."</p><br />
<br />
<p>Gwendolyn's hand extended, her pale fingers delicate yet commanding. The Blackshield placed the missive in her hand, and she read the words in silence, her expression inscrutable as ever. A corner of her lips quirked almost imperceptibly, her flat voice breaking the silence. "Unanticipated yet welcomed."</p><br />
<br />
<p>Her command was curt: "Notify Captain Thomas to turn the ship towards Askileon."</p><br />
<br />
<p>"At once, my lady," the Blackshield stuttered before hastening out of the cabin, the door closing with an unintentional slam behind him.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Her fingers moved a wooden piece from Qubel to Ciarin Tut, her words muttered like an incantation, "We go where the beasts go..."</p><br />
<br />
<p>Her attention then shifted to the grey crystal orb. Raising it to her face, she pressed her lips against its surface with a faint touch before it was returned to its case. The noble lady walked gracefully to her bed. Over her undergarments, she put on a flowing black nightgown that billowed as she moved. Her gaze turned to the door as she commanded, "Blackshields, approach."</p><br />
<br />
<p>"The winds of fate have shifted," her voice resonated, its flatness betraying nothing. "The Heliacal decrees the beasts of Ciarin Tut to be our quarry."</p><br />
<br />
<p>A collective gasp swept through the assembled soldiers, their faces a canvas of surprise and disbelief, for none expected a command from the Helical himself. Gwendolyn's voice remained as emotionless as the calm sea outside. "Thee shall perform as befits House Briarwood. Prove thy worth."</p><br />
<br />
<p>A murmur of agreement rumbled through the ranks. Gwendolyn's gaze wandered to the sea, contemplating whether her men could truly conquer the beasts of Ciarin Tut. She had read they were twenty in number and fearsome.</p><br />
<br />
<p>"May the winds of fate guide us to victory," she interrupted her own thoughts, her voice punctuating the air. In unison, the Blackshields responded, "May the winds of fate shield us in the wars to come."</p><br />
<br />
<p>With a subtle nod, Gwendolyn dismissed them. As the soldiers filed out, she turned back to the solitude of her cabin. The ship continued its dance upon the waves, and Gwendolyn retreated to her captain's quarters, the mysteries of her mind once again left to the shadows of the early morning.</p><br />
<br />
|Title=Roleplay from Gwendolyn Briarwood<br />
|Signature=}}</div>Marcus Daubenyhttps://wiki.battlemaster.org/index.php?title=Briarwood_Family/Gwendolyn/A_Chance_at_Glory&diff=218212Briarwood Family/Gwendolyn/A Chance at Glory2023-08-08T05:24:34Z<p>Marcus Daubeny: </p>
<hr />
<div>{{BMMessage<br />
|Width=80<br />
|Type=Roleplay<br />
|Sent=Mon Aug 7, 2023 21:27:52<br />
|Sender=Gwendolyn Briarwood|Recipients=Message sent to all nobles of Luria Nova (24 recipients)<br />
|Content=<p><u><strong>Gwendolyn: A Chance at Glory</strong></u><br />
<p>The afternoon sun cast its golden rays upon the bustling docks of Giask, where Lady Gwendolyn Briarwood, dressed in black stained and hardened leather armour adorned with the Briarwood Crest, stood with her unit of twenty-one men, the Briarwood Blackshields. They were gathered on a sturdy ship made of polished cedar, aptly named "The Veil of Briar," readying to set sail on a perilous voyage to Tomb Island to the region of Quebel.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Beside Lady Gwendolyn stood the young ship captain, Thomas, who worked under her father, Elias Briarwood. His eyes darted nervously as he glanced at the Blackshields and then back to Lady Gwendolyn, who wore her long black hair tied in a braid, her piercing sapphire eyes seemingly devoid of any emotion as she watched the horizon.</p><br />
<br />
<p>"Ah, lass," Thomas hesitated, "perhaps it would be wise tae wait fer yer household guard tae be better prepared. They lack experience, still wet behind the ears these lads are, green as grass, and the Tomb Island is nae place fer the unseasoned."</p><br />
<br />
<p>Gwendolyn's voice remained flat and emotionless as she replied, "Thy concern is unnecessary. We depart at eventide."</p><br />
<br />
<p>Thomas spluttered at the retort, "That's...but, my lady. I—"</p><br />
<br />
<p>Gwendolyn interrupted him with cold words, "When the army currently south returns to celebrate their victory and glory after having fought and bled for weeks, I shall not stand amongst them with an unscarred body and a pristine blade."</p><br />
<br />
<p>Thomas looked at her with concern and said, "You know, lass, ye hardly seem dressed to face the monsters of Quebel yerself."</p><br />
<br />
<p>"I said I require no further concern, Captain," Gwendolyn interrupted him, her gaze unyielding. "Ready the ship."</p><br />
<br />
<p>She descended from the ship, her footsteps echoing on the wooden planks of the dock. Gwendolyn began helping her unit and the sailors load supplies onto the ship, her words sharp as she addressed her men and the crew, "Inefficient. Disappointing."</p><br />
<br />
<p>Her unit hurried to keep up, embarrassment evident in their eyes as they worked diligently to quicken their pace. Lady Gwendolyn's demeanour may have seemed cold, but her unit knew her intentions were to instil discipline and strength in the men. The sounds of the docks enveloped them—the creaking of The Veil of Briar as the sea gently rocked it, the clamour of people and sailors busily engaged in their tasks, the distant calls of seabirds, and the soothing rush of the waves caressing the shore.</p><br />
<br />
<p>As the preparations continued, Gwendolyn allowed herself a moment of introspection. Could her men truly prevail against the savage beasts of Quebel? It mattered little, she realized. Win or lose, and she was determined to show the realm that she was no coward.</p><br />
<br />
<p>With the supplies finally loaded, Gwendolyn put down the crate upon reaching the ship's deck. With the preparations finally complete, Gwendolyn surveyed her unit and the sailors, her face still devoid of any emotion. "Rest now, for we have a long voyage ahead," she declared in her flat and blunt voice, her words carrying an air of authority. "May the winds of fate guide us to victory."</p><br />
<br />
<p>In unison, the Blackshields replied, their voices resolute, "May the winds of fate shield us in the wars to come."</p><br />
<br />
<p>Subtly nodding in acknowledgment, Gwendolyn motioned to her men that they were dismissed. As the Blackshields dispersed to find their rest, she turned and walked with unwavering purpose toward the captain's cabin. The night ahead held countless uncertainties, and her mind was focused solely on the challenges that lay ahead.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Inside the cabin, she closed the door, the sounds of the ship gradually fading into the background. Alone in the dimly lit room, Gwendolyn finally allowed herself a moment to reflect, her face still devoid of emotion. With a stoic resolve, she prepared herself for the voyage to come, knowing that the trials they would face on Tomb Island would test not only her men's mettle but her own.</p><br />
<br />
<p>As the night deepened and the ship left port, Gwendolyn remained within the captain's cabin. Her thoughts shrouded in cryptic silence. The winds of fate had set them on this perilous path, and she would navigate it with unwavering determination, ready to face whatever monsters and challenges awaited them in the region of Quebel.</p><br />
</p><br />
|Title=Roleplay from Gwendolyn Briarwood<br />
|Signature=}}<br />
<br />
{{BMMessage<br />
|Width=80<br />
|Type=Roleplay<br />
|Sent=Tue Aug 8, 2023 01:23:49<br />
|Sender=Gwendolyn Briarwood|Recipients=Message sent to all nobles of Luria Nova (24 recipients)<br />
|Content=<p><strong><u>Gwendolyn: A Chance for Glory and a Change of Fate</u></strong></p><br />
<br />
<p>The captain's cabin aboard The Veil of Briar was dimly lit, the soft glow of oil lamps casting dancing shadows across the wooden walls. The ship swayed gently on the sea, the creaking of timbers and the rhythmic sounds of waves against the hull creating a symphony of the maritime morning. Seabirds cried out in the distance, their calls blending with the whisper of the wind. Amidst this orchestration of nature, Gwendolyn sat alone at a round table, her long black hair cascading down her shoulders, melding with the pitch black of her undergarments, her sapphire eyes piercing and unmoving.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Upon the table, before her lay a map, a tableau of military and monstrous movements played out with wooden pieces. Gwendolyn's fingers toyed with a murky grey crystal orb, her expression unchanging as she muttered to herself in cryptic cadence, her voice devoid of emotion. "Winds of fate... the ebb and flow... where do thee send me..."</p><br />
<br />
<p>Abruptly, the cabin's door swung open, revealing a figure at its threshold. The man, a member of her loyal guard, the Blackshields, his left hand hastily shielding his eyes from the unexpected sight of Gwendolyn in her undergarments, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment. He stammered out an apology. She ignored the soldier's embarrassment.</p><br />
<br />
<p>"Why this morn?" she inquired, her eyes finally shifting from the map to the man before her.</p><br />
<br />
<p>"It is a letter, my lady," he managed to stammer, his gaze now fixed upon the ceiling in his discomfiture. "A... request... from the Heliacal."</p><br />
<br />
<p>Gwendolyn's hand extended, her pale fingers delicate yet commanding. The Blackshield placed the missive in her hand, and she read the words in silence, her expression inscrutable as ever. A corner of her lips quirked almost imperceptibly, her flat voice breaking the silence. "Unanticipated yet welcomed."</p><br />
<br />
<p>Her command was curt: "Notify Captain Thomas to turn the ship towards Askileon."</p><br />
<br />
<p>"At once, my lady," the Blackshield stuttered before hastening out of the cabin, the door closing with an unintentional slam behind him.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Her fingers moved a wooden piece from Qubel to Ciarin Tut, her words muttered like an incantation, "We go where the beasts go..."</p><br />
<br />
<p>Her attention then shifted to the grey crystal orb. Raising it to her face, she pressed her lips against its surface with a faint touch before it was returned to its case. The noble lady walked gracefully to her bed. Over her undergarments, she put on a flowing black nightgown that billowed as she moved. Her gaze turned to the door as she commanded, "Blackshields, approach."</p><br />
<br />
<p>"The winds of fate have shifted," her voice resonated, its flatness betraying nothing. "The Heliacal decrees the beasts of Ciarin Tut to be our quarry."</p><br />
<br />
<p>A collective gasp swept through the assembled soldiers, their faces a canvas of surprise and disbelief, for none expected a command from the Helical himself. Gwendolyn's voice remained as emotionless as the calm sea outside. "You shall perform as befits House Briarwood. Prove your worth."</p><br />
<br />
<p>A murmur of agreement rumbled through the ranks. Gwendolyn's gaze wandered to the sea, contemplating whether her men could truly conquer the beasts of Ciarin Tut. She had read they were twenty in number and fearsome.</p><br />
<br />
<p>"May the winds of fate guide us to victory," she interrupted her own thoughts, her voice punctuating the air. In unison, the Blackshields responded, "May the winds of fate shield us in the wars to come."</p><br />
<br />
<p>With a subtle nod, Gwendolyn dismissed them. As the soldiers filed out, she turned back to the solitude of her cabin. The ship continued its dance upon the waves, and Gwendolyn retreated to her captain's quarters, the mysteries of her mind once again left to the shadows of the early morning.</p><br />
<br />
|Title=Roleplay from Gwendolyn Briarwood<br />
|Signature=}}</div>Marcus Daubenyhttps://wiki.battlemaster.org/index.php?title=Briarwood_Family/Gwendolyn/A_Chance_at_Glory&diff=218211Briarwood Family/Gwendolyn/A Chance at Glory2023-08-08T05:24:20Z<p>Marcus Daubeny: </p>
<hr />
<div>{{BMMessage<br />
|Width=80<br />
|Type=Roleplay<br />
|Sent=Mon Aug 7, 2023 21:27:52<br />
|Sender=Gwendolyn Briarwood|Recipients=Message sent to all nobles of Luria Nova (24 recipients)<br />
|Content=<p><u><strong>Gwendolyn: A Chance at Glory</strong></u><br />
<p>The afternoon sun cast its golden rays upon the bustling docks of Giask, where Lady Gwendolyn Briarwood, dressed in black stained and hardened leather armour adorned with the Briarwood Crest, stood with her unit of twenty-one men, the Briarwood Blackshields. They were gathered on a sturdy ship made of polished cedar, aptly named "The Veil of Briar," readying to set sail on a perilous voyage to Tomb Island to the region of Quebel.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Beside Lady Gwendolyn stood the young ship captain, Thomas, who worked under her father, Elias Briarwood. His eyes darted nervously as he glanced at the Blackshields and then back to Lady Gwendolyn, who wore her long black hair tied in a braid, her piercing sapphire eyes seemingly devoid of any emotion as she watched the horizon.</p><br />
<br />
<p>"Ah, lass," Thomas hesitated, "perhaps it would be wise tae wait fer yer household guard tae be better prepared. They lack experience, still wet behind the ears these lads are, green as grass, and the Tomb Island is nae place fer the unseasoned."</p><br />
<br />
<p>Gwendolyn's voice remained flat and emotionless as she replied, "Thy concern is unnecessary. We depart at eventide."</p><br />
<br />
<p>Thomas spluttered at the retort, "That's...but, my lady. I—"</p><br />
<br />
<p>Gwendolyn interrupted him with cold words, "When the army currently south returns to celebrate their victory and glory after having fought and bled for weeks, I shall not stand amongst them with an unscarred body and a pristine blade."</p><br />
<br />
<p>Thomas looked at her with concern and said, "You know, lass, ye hardly seem dressed to face the monsters of Quebel yerself."</p><br />
<br />
<p>"I said I require no further concern, Captain," Gwendolyn interrupted him, her gaze unyielding. "Ready the ship."</p><br />
<br />
<p>She descended from the ship, her footsteps echoing on the wooden planks of the dock. Gwendolyn began helping her unit and the sailors load supplies onto the ship, her words sharp as she addressed her men and the crew, "Inefficient. Disappointing."</p><br />
<br />
<p>Her unit hurried to keep up, embarrassment evident in their eyes as they worked diligently to quicken their pace. Lady Gwendolyn's demeanour may have seemed cold, but her unit knew her intentions were to instil discipline and strength in the men. The sounds of the docks enveloped them—the creaking of The Veil of Briar as the sea gently rocked it, the clamour of people and sailors busily engaged in their tasks, the distant calls of seabirds, and the soothing rush of the waves caressing the shore.</p><br />
<br />
<p>As the preparations continued, Gwendolyn allowed herself a moment of introspection. Could her men truly prevail against the savage beasts of Quebel? It mattered little, she realized. Win or lose, and she was determined to show the realm that she was no coward.</p><br />
<br />
<p>With the supplies finally loaded, Gwendolyn put down the crate upon reaching the ship's deck. With the preparations finally complete, Gwendolyn surveyed her unit and the sailors, her face still devoid of any emotion. "Rest now, for we have a long voyage ahead," she declared in her flat and blunt voice, her words carrying an air of authority. "May the winds of fate guide us to victory."</p><br />
<br />
<p>In unison, the Blackshields replied, their voices resolute, "May the winds of fate shield us in the wars to come."</p><br />
<br />
<p>Subtly nodding in acknowledgment, Gwendolyn motioned to her men that they were dismissed. As the Blackshields dispersed to find their rest, she turned and walked with unwavering purpose toward the captain's cabin. The night ahead held countless uncertainties, and her mind was focused solely on the challenges that lay ahead.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Inside the cabin, she closed the door, the sounds of the ship gradually fading into the background. Alone in the dimly lit room, Gwendolyn finally allowed herself a moment to reflect, her face still devoid of emotion. With a stoic resolve, she prepared herself for the voyage to come, knowing that the trials they would face on Tomb Island would test not only her men's mettle but her own.</p><br />
<br />
<p>As the night deepened and the ship left port, Gwendolyn remained within the captain's cabin. Her thoughts shrouded in cryptic silence. The winds of fate had set them on this perilous path, and she would navigate it with unwavering determination, ready to face whatever monsters and challenges awaited them in the region of Quebel.</p><br />
</p><br />
|Title=Roleplay from Gwendolyn Briarwood<br />
|Signature=}}<br />
<br />
<br />
{{BMMessage<br />
|Width=80<br />
|Type=Roleplay<br />
|Sent=Tue Aug 8, 2023 01:23:49<br />
|Sender=Gwendolyn Briarwood|Recipients=Message sent to all nobles of Luria Nova (24 recipients)<br />
|Content=<p><strong><u>Gwendolyn: A Chance for Glory and a Change of Fate</u></strong></p><br />
<br />
<p>The captain's cabin aboard The Veil of Briar was dimly lit, the soft glow of oil lamps casting dancing shadows across the wooden walls. The ship swayed gently on the sea, the creaking of timbers and the rhythmic sounds of waves against the hull creating a symphony of the maritime morning. Seabirds cried out in the distance, their calls blending with the whisper of the wind. Amidst this orchestration of nature, Gwendolyn sat alone at a round table, her long black hair cascading down her shoulders, melding with the pitch black of her undergarments, her sapphire eyes piercing and unmoving.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Upon the table, before her lay a map, a tableau of military and monstrous movements played out with wooden pieces. Gwendolyn's fingers toyed with a murky grey crystal orb, her expression unchanging as she muttered to herself in cryptic cadence, her voice devoid of emotion. "Winds of fate... the ebb and flow... where do thee send me..."</p><br />
<br />
<p>Abruptly, the cabin's door swung open, revealing a figure at its threshold. The man, a member of her loyal guard, the Blackshields, his left hand hastily shielding his eyes from the unexpected sight of Gwendolyn in her undergarments, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment. He stammered out an apology. She ignored the soldier's embarrassment.</p><br />
<br />
<p>"Why this morn?" she inquired, her eyes finally shifting from the map to the man before her.</p><br />
<br />
<p>"It is a letter, my lady," he managed to stammer, his gaze now fixed upon the ceiling in his discomfiture. "A... request... from the Heliacal."</p><br />
<br />
<p>Gwendolyn's hand extended, her pale fingers delicate yet commanding. The Blackshield placed the missive in her hand, and she read the words in silence, her expression inscrutable as ever. A corner of her lips quirked almost imperceptibly, her flat voice breaking the silence. "Unanticipated yet welcomed."</p><br />
<br />
<p>Her command was curt: "Notify Captain Thomas to turn the ship towards Askileon."</p><br />
<br />
<p>"At once, my lady," the Blackshield stuttered before hastening out of the cabin, the door closing with an unintentional slam behind him.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Her fingers moved a wooden piece from Qubel to Ciarin Tut, her words muttered like an incantation, "We go where the beasts go..."</p><br />
<br />
<p>Her attention then shifted to the grey crystal orb. Raising it to her face, she pressed her lips against its surface with a faint touch before it was returned to its case. The noble lady walked gracefully to her bed. Over her undergarments, she put on a flowing black nightgown that billowed as she moved. Her gaze turned to the door as she commanded, "Blackshields, approach."</p><br />
<br />
<p>"The winds of fate have shifted," her voice resonated, its flatness betraying nothing. "The Heliacal decrees the beasts of Ciarin Tut to be our quarry."</p><br />
<br />
<p>A collective gasp swept through the assembled soldiers, their faces a canvas of surprise and disbelief, for none expected a command from the Helical himself. Gwendolyn's voice remained as emotionless as the calm sea outside. "You shall perform as befits House Briarwood. Prove your worth."</p><br />
<br />
<p>A murmur of agreement rumbled through the ranks. Gwendolyn's gaze wandered to the sea, contemplating whether her men could truly conquer the beasts of Ciarin Tut. She had read they were twenty in number and fearsome.</p><br />
<br />
<p>"May the winds of fate guide us to victory," she interrupted her own thoughts, her voice punctuating the air. In unison, the Blackshields responded, "May the winds of fate shield us in the wars to come."</p><br />
<br />
<p>With a subtle nod, Gwendolyn dismissed them. As the soldiers filed out, she turned back to the solitude of her cabin. The ship continued its dance upon the waves, and Gwendolyn retreated to her captain's quarters, the mysteries of her mind once again left to the shadows of the early morning.</p><br />
<br />
|Title=Roleplay from Gwendolyn Briarwood<br />
|Signature=}}</div>Marcus Daubenyhttps://wiki.battlemaster.org/index.php?title=Briarwood_Family/Malachi&diff=218210Briarwood Family/Malachi2023-08-08T04:04:43Z<p>Marcus Daubeny: </p>
<hr />
<div>[[File:Malachi_Briarwood.jpg]]<br />
<br />
{{Quotation| May the winds of fate find you to victory and glory.|Malachi Briarwood}}<br />
<br />
Malachi Briarwood, the scion of the noble Briarwood family, possessed a striking presence with his dark greyish-black hair, pale silver eyes, and lean, athletic build. From an early age, he exhibited the enigmatic nature characteristic of his family. As a baby, he was fussy and difficult, much like his older sister Lilyana, and later on, he displayed a similar temperament as his sister Gwendolyn.<br />
<br />
Throughout his childhood, Malachi displayed a mix of ordinary and peculiar behaviours. He spent days playing pretend with the boys, using sticks as wooden swords, and riding horses with an unmatched passion. Yet, he was also known to wander alone into the woods, gazing into the depths with an unnatural focus that intrigued those around him. <br />
<br />
Throughout his formative years, Malachi relied on the unwavering support of his sisters. His parents, often harsh and demanding, placed higher expectations on him compared to his siblings. However, Lilyana became his pillar of strength, helping him navigate the struggles of his training and childhood. Despite their parents' wishes, Malachi couldn't avoid the comparisons drawn between him and his sisters.<br />
<br />
Malachi's interests were multifaceted, trying to bridge the gap between his sisters' preferences. He developed a love for singing and dancing, hoping to connect with Lilyana, who revelled in the arts. Simultaneously, he nurtured a strong desire to learn the art of combat, aligning himself with Gwendolyn's penchant for fighting and swordplay.<br />
<br />
On his 14th birthday, he embarked on a fateful hunting trip with his cousins Petyr and Zephyr without their parent's approval. The outing turned into a tragedy when their close friend, Martin, a dedicated hunter in the service of the Briarwoods, lost his life. Malachi blamed himself for the incident, as the shadows of that day haunted him, and both Petyr and Zephyr shared a heavy burden of secrets, leaving their relationship with Malachi forever altered.<br />
<br />
Despite his position as the only son, Malachi's education was minimal compared to his sisters. He learned finances, troop command, and the ways of high society by observing and listening to others' lessons, including Lilyana's. Never feeling a sense of entitlement to the family inheritance, he harboured complete faith and trust in Lilyana's capabilities, content with her being named the heir.<br />
<br />
As Gwendolyn embarked on her journey to join the Ascendancy of Luria Nova in Dwilight and Lilyana assumed the mantle of Dame of Aix, Malachi found himself grappling with uncertainty about his own future. He sought refuge in the presence of Lilyana, assisting her in her escapades and avoiding his parents as he tried to delay their plans of sending him away, cherishing every moment he spent with Lilyana. Their bond was unbreakable, and she became the guiding light through the darkness that threatened to envelop him, though he knew it would not last forever.</div>Marcus Daubenyhttps://wiki.battlemaster.org/index.php?title=File:Malachi_Briarwood.jpg&diff=218209File:Malachi Briarwood.jpg2023-08-08T04:04:15Z<p>Marcus Daubeny: </p>
<hr />
<div></div>Marcus Daubenyhttps://wiki.battlemaster.org/index.php?title=Briarwood_Family/Malachi&diff=218208Briarwood Family/Malachi2023-08-08T04:02:51Z<p>Marcus Daubeny: Created page with "{{Quotation| May the winds of fate find you to victory and glory.|Malachi Briarwood}} Malachi Briarwood, the scion of the noble Briarwood family, possessed a striking presenc..."</p>
<hr />
<div>{{Quotation| May the winds of fate find you to victory and glory.|Malachi Briarwood}}<br />
<br />
Malachi Briarwood, the scion of the noble Briarwood family, possessed a striking presence with his dark greyish-black hair, pale silver eyes, and lean, athletic build. From an early age, he exhibited the enigmatic nature characteristic of his family. As a baby, he was fussy and difficult, much like his older sister Lilyana, and later on, he displayed a similar temperament as his sister Gwendolyn.<br />
<br />
Throughout his childhood, Malachi displayed a mix of ordinary and peculiar behaviours. He spent days playing pretend with the boys, using sticks as wooden swords, and riding horses with an unmatched passion. Yet, he was also known to wander alone into the woods, gazing into the depths with an unnatural focus that intrigued those around him. <br />
<br />
Throughout his formative years, Malachi relied on the unwavering support of his sisters. His parents, often harsh and demanding, placed higher expectations on him compared to his siblings. However, Lilyana became his pillar of strength, helping him navigate the struggles of his training and childhood. Despite their parents' wishes, Malachi couldn't avoid the comparisons drawn between him and his sisters.<br />
<br />
Malachi's interests were multifaceted, trying to bridge the gap between his sisters' preferences. He developed a love for singing and dancing, hoping to connect with Lilyana, who revelled in the arts. Simultaneously, he nurtured a strong desire to learn the art of combat, aligning himself with Gwendolyn's penchant for fighting and swordplay.<br />
<br />
On his 14th birthday, he embarked on a fateful hunting trip with his cousins Petyr and Zephyr without their parent's approval. The outing turned into a tragedy when their close friend, Martin, a dedicated hunter in the service of the Briarwoods, lost his life. Malachi blamed himself for the incident, as the shadows of that day haunted him, and both Petyr and Zephyr shared a heavy burden of secrets, leaving their relationship with Malachi forever altered.<br />
<br />
Despite his position as the only son, Malachi's education was minimal compared to his sisters. He learned finances, troop command, and the ways of high society by observing and listening to others' lessons, including Lilyana's. Never feeling a sense of entitlement to the family inheritance, he harboured complete faith and trust in Lilyana's capabilities, content with her being named the heir.<br />
<br />
As Gwendolyn embarked on her journey to join the Ascendancy of Luria Nova in Dwilight and Lilyana assumed the mantle of Dame of Aix, Malachi found himself grappling with uncertainty about his own future. He sought refuge in the presence of Lilyana, assisting her in her escapades and avoiding his parents as he tried to delay their plans of sending him away, cherishing every moment he spent with Lilyana. Their bond was unbreakable, and she became the guiding light through the darkness that threatened to envelop him, though he knew it would not last forever.</div>Marcus Daubenyhttps://wiki.battlemaster.org/index.php?title=Briarwood_Family/Gwendolyn/A_Chance_at_Glory&diff=218207Briarwood Family/Gwendolyn/A Chance at Glory2023-08-08T01:29:01Z<p>Marcus Daubeny: Created page with "{{BMMessage |Width=80 |Type=Roleplay |Sent=Mon Aug 7, 2023 21:27:52 |Sender=Gwendolyn Briarwood|Recipients=Message sent to all nobles of Luria Nova (24 recipients) |Content=<p..."</p>
<hr />
<div>{{BMMessage<br />
|Width=80<br />
|Type=Roleplay<br />
|Sent=Mon Aug 7, 2023 21:27:52<br />
|Sender=Gwendolyn Briarwood|Recipients=Message sent to all nobles of Luria Nova (24 recipients)<br />
|Content=<p><u><strong>Gwendolyn: A Chance at Glory</strong></u><br />
<p>The afternoon sun cast its golden rays upon the bustling docks of Giask, where Lady Gwendolyn Briarwood, dressed in black stained and hardened leather armour adorned with the Briarwood Crest, stood with her unit of twenty-one men, the Briarwood Blackshields. They were gathered on a sturdy ship made of polished cedar, aptly named "The Veil of Briar," readying to set sail on a perilous voyage to Tomb Island to the region of Quebel.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Beside Lady Gwendolyn stood the young ship captain, Thomas, who worked under her father, Elias Briarwood. His eyes darted nervously as he glanced at the Blackshields and then back to Lady Gwendolyn, who wore her long black hair tied in a braid, her piercing sapphire eyes seemingly devoid of any emotion as she watched the horizon.</p><br />
<br />
<p>"Ah, lass," Thomas hesitated, "perhaps it would be wise tae wait fer yer household guard tae be better prepared. They lack experience, still wet behind the ears these lads are, green as grass, and the Tomb Island is nae place fer the unseasoned."</p><br />
<br />
<p>Gwendolyn's voice remained flat and emotionless as she replied, "Thy concern is unnecessary. We depart at eventide."</p><br />
<br />
<p>Thomas spluttered at the retort, "That's...but, my lady. I—"</p><br />
<br />
<p>Gwendolyn interrupted him with cold words, "When the army currently south returns to celebrate their victory and glory after having fought and bled for weeks, I shall not stand amongst them with an unscarred body and a pristine blade."</p><br />
<br />
<p>Thomas looked at her with concern and said, "You know, lass, ye hardly seem dressed to face the monsters of Quebel yerself."</p><br />
<br />
<p>"I said I require no further concern, Captain," Gwendolyn interrupted him, her gaze unyielding. "Ready the ship."</p><br />
<br />
<p>She descended from the ship, her footsteps echoing on the wooden planks of the dock. Gwendolyn began helping her unit and the sailors load supplies onto the ship, her words sharp as she addressed her men and the crew, "Inefficient. Disappointing."</p><br />
<br />
<p>Her unit hurried to keep up, embarrassment evident in their eyes as they worked diligently to quicken their pace. Lady Gwendolyn's demeanour may have seemed cold, but her unit knew her intentions were to instil discipline and strength in the men. The sounds of the docks enveloped them—the creaking of The Veil of Briar as the sea gently rocked it, the clamour of people and sailors busily engaged in their tasks, the distant calls of seabirds, and the soothing rush of the waves caressing the shore.</p><br />
<br />
<p>As the preparations continued, Gwendolyn allowed herself a moment of introspection. Could her men truly prevail against the savage beasts of Quebel? It mattered little, she realized. Win or lose, and she was determined to show the realm that she was no coward.</p><br />
<br />
<p>With the supplies finally loaded, Gwendolyn put down the crate upon reaching the ship's deck. With the preparations finally complete, Gwendolyn surveyed her unit and the sailors, her face still devoid of any emotion. "Rest now, for we have a long voyage ahead," she declared in her flat and blunt voice, her words carrying an air of authority. "May the winds of fate guide us to victory."</p><br />
<br />
<p>In unison, the Blackshields replied, their voices resolute, "May the winds of fate shield us in the wars to come."</p><br />
<br />
<p>Subtly nodding in acknowledgment, Gwendolyn motioned to her men that they were dismissed. As the Blackshields dispersed to find their rest, she turned and walked with unwavering purpose toward the captain's cabin. The night ahead held countless uncertainties, and her mind was focused solely on the challenges that lay ahead.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Inside the cabin, she closed the door, the sounds of the ship gradually fading into the background. Alone in the dimly lit room, Gwendolyn finally allowed herself a moment to reflect, her face still devoid of emotion. With a stoic resolve, she prepared herself for the voyage to come, knowing that the trials they would face on Tomb Island would test not only her men's mettle but her own.</p><br />
<br />
<p>As the night deepened and the ship left port, Gwendolyn remained within the captain's cabin. Her thoughts shrouded in cryptic silence. The winds of fate had set them on this perilous path, and she would navigate it with unwavering determination, ready to face whatever monsters and challenges awaited them in the region of Quebel.</p><br />
</p><br />
|Title=Roleplay from Gwendolyn Briarwood<br />
|Signature=}}</div>Marcus Daubenyhttps://wiki.battlemaster.org/index.php?title=Briarwood_Family/Gwendolyn&diff=218206Briarwood Family/Gwendolyn2023-08-08T01:28:54Z<p>Marcus Daubeny: </p>
<hr />
<div>[[File:Gwendolyn_Briarwood.jpg]]<br />
<br />
{{Quotation| May the winds of fate find thee well, come the eventide.|Gwendolyn Briarwood}}<br />
<br />
Born as the second eldest child to Morgyn and Elias Briarwood, her arrival into the world was marred by an eerie silence, causing her family to believe her life had slipped away. Yet, Gwendolyn defied expectations from the start, exuding a tranquillity unusual for a newborn, unlike her older sister Lilyana and younger brother Malachi, who often wailed and fussed.<br />
<br />
Throughout her childhood, Gwendolyn's peculiarities only intensified, creating an aura of mystique around her. She was often caught lost in thought, staring into the distance in the strangest of places as if gazing at unseen realms. Instead of embracing the usual feminine pursuits of her family, she took a keen interest in combat and duelling, following the footsteps of her older cousin Zayn rather than her sister Lilyana's passion for singing and dancing.<br />
<br />
On her sixteenth birthday, Elias gifted her a sword, an acknowledgment of her unconventional desires. From then on, she immersed herself in rigorous training, dedicating countless hours to mastering the art of the blade. Gwendolyn's skill with the sword was astonishing, and she became known for her grace when fighting.<br />
<br />
As she entered her later teen years, Gwendolyn displayed a lack of interest in romantic entanglements and dismissed the numerous flirtations and marriage proposals she received, regardless of the suitor's gender. Her indifference to societal norms further intensified the rumours surrounding her enigmatic nature.<br />
<br />
At the age of nineteen, a fateful event led to a dramatic falling out with her cousin Zayn. Intoxicated and spiteful, Zayn hurled vile insults at Lilyana, degrading her with cruel words. Fueled by her duty to her sister and a sense of justice, Gwendolyn demanded a duel with Zayn, challenging him to account for his actions. To the astonishment of her family and a gathered crowd at Prospero Square in [[Aix]], she easily bested him, disarming him by cutting off three fingers from his dominant hand. <br />
<br />
In a chilling display of cold indifference, she rebuked Zayn, exposing the long-held family secret of his birth, branding him an unworthy Briarwood and a bastard child, shattering his and his father Asher's reputation in the public eye.<br />
<br />
In the wake of the tumultuous confrontation, Gwendolyn became reclusive, distancing herself from her family. She appeared only when summoned by her father, displaying a cold detachment from her family which hurt her sister and brother. <br />
<br />
When Elias decided to send her to Dwilight to expand the family's influence in Luria Nova, she accepted the order without hesitation, seemingly unaffected by the prospect of leaving her home behind. She left her ancestral home in Aix behind and set forth on a journey to the continent of Dwilight. She arrived in the illustrious Ascendancy of Luria Nova and found her place as a Dame of the City of Giask, residing in its golden palace, far from the gossip and expectations of her former life.<br />
<br />
==Roleplays==<br />
<br />
*[[/Training in Giask/]]<br />
*[[/A Chance at Glory/]]</div>Marcus Daubenyhttps://wiki.battlemaster.org/index.php?title=Briarwood_Family/Liliyana/A_Ball_in_Prospero&diff=218201Briarwood Family/Liliyana/A Ball in Prospero2023-08-07T15:37:56Z<p>Marcus Daubeny: </p>
<hr />
<div>{{BMMessage<br />
|Width=80<br />
|Type=Roleplay<br />
|Sent=Mon Aug 7, 2023 11:27:20<br />
|Sender=Lilyana Briarwood|Recipients=Message sent to all nobles of Perdan (19 recipients)<br />
|Content=<p><strong><u>Lilyana: A Ball in Prospero (Announcement)</u></strong><br />
<p>As the sun began its descent, casting a warm glow over Prospero Square, Lady Lilyana perched gracefully on the ornate balcony above the training yard. Below, her group of archers, the Heartseekers, practised their skill with bows and arrows, shooting at targets scattered about the field. Despite their name, the arrows often missed their mark as much as they found it. Lilyana observed the archers with a soft smile, her voice as calm and reassuring as a gentle breeze.</p><br />
<br />
<p>It appears that they seek the hearts of their targets as much as they seek the sky," she remarked cryptically to her younger brother Malachi, who sat beside her at the small table laden with cheeses, grapes, dried meats, and a bottle of Prospero Red wine. Malachi's frustration was apparent, and he couldn't resist a sarcastic retort.</p><br />
<br />
<p>"Yes, perhaps their training would benefit more if you hadn't been the one teaching them. I mean, we all know how well you handle a bow," he quipped.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Lilyana's laugh was melodic and gentle, a sound that could soothe even the most troubled hearts. "Ah, thee got me there," she replied, her deep burgundy eyes twinkling with amusement. She glanced at Malachi and saw the slight smile that had formed on his lips. She watched as a hint of a smile formed on Malachi's lips, his frustration momentarily eased by their playful banter.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Curiosity and concern in her voice, Lilyana turned to him. "What's troubling thee, dear brother?" she asked softly.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Malachi hesitated for a moment before answering. "It's just... while you've been chosen to remain here as Dame of Prospero Square, and Gwendolyn is to travel to Luria, I still don't know where our father will send me, and I don't want to leave home," he admitted.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Lilyana nodded understandingly, her expression reassuring. "Wherever thee go, my thoughts and love will follow thee," she assured him. "Thee have the Briarwood spirit within thine heart, and thee will excel wherever thee is sent. Staying here would be a disservice to thy talents. The winds of fate leave no question, thee art destined for greatness."</p><br />
<br />
<p>Malachi agreed, grateful for his sister's support. "Thank you, Lily," he replied.</p><br />
<br />
<p>As the conversation shifted, Malachi noticed his sister's attire and couldn't help but comment, "You seem rather dressed up today. Lilyana smiled gently, her hand tracing the intricate amethyst necklace adorning her neckline. "I shall soon invite the nobles of the realm to Prospero Square. We are to host a Ball in the Briarwood Manor," she revealed.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Malachi sighed, expressing his disdain for guests intruding on their home. "I hate how crowded it gets with such affairs," he grumbled.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Lilyana's smile remained unwavering. "It won't be so bad," she reassured him. "Thee might even meet a beautiful woman of whom thee may court." His cheeks flushed slightly, and Malachi stood up abruptly, walking to the railing. "Heartseekers!" he called out to the archers below. "That's enough for today. Go clean up, eat, and rest well. Tomorrow awaits."</p><br />
<br />
<p>As the archers disbanded and headed to the barracks, Malachi mumbled about his sister's ability to fluster him. Lilyana chuckled softly, her laughter like a delicate melody. "It's only because thy mind is so easy to fluster," she teased, fondness in her voice.Malachi shook his head, still smiling, as he walked away. "You always say that," he commented, disappearing from view.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Left alone on the balcony, Lilyana stood and walked to the nearby writing desk. She picked up a quill and began penning her invitations, her thoughts drifting to the words she would use to charm the nobles of the realm. As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting hues of orange and pink across the sky, she wrote with a sense of purpose and grace.</p><br />
<br />
<p>"Grace Upon Thee, Fair Noble Kindred, It is with great pleasure..."</p><br />
</p><br />
|Title=Roleplay from Lilyana Briarwood<br />
|Signature=}}<br />
<br />
{{BMMessage<br />
|Width=80<br />
|Type=Roleplay<br />
|Sent=Mon Aug 7, 2023 11:37:16<br />
|Sender=Lilyana Briarwood|Recipients=Message sent to all nobles of Perdan (19 recipients)<br />
|Content=<p><u><strong>Lilyana: A Ball in Prospero (The Invitation)</strong></u></p><br />
<br />
<p>Grace Upon Thee, Fair Noble Kindred,</p><br />
<br />
<p>It is with great pleasure that I announce that I have settled into my new estate in Prospero Square. It was an admittedly easy affair, for I hath lived in Aix and Prospero Square my whole life. </p><br />
<br />
<p>With this, I wish to invite thee all to share in a night of revelry, song, dance and enjoyment. On behalf of my own father and mother, I wish to invite thee all to our home in the Briarwood Manor in Aix. Drinks, food, accommodation for the night and all services of the Briarwood family will be made available to thee all to ensure thy pleasure whilst thee remains within our house for the ball.</p><br />
<br />
<p>I would appreciate a letter of affirmation for any who wish to join us, so I might make available enough guest rooms and other facilities needed.</p><br />
<br />
<p>May the winds of fate guide thee safely and warmly to Aix should thee come to join our revelry. I await thy replies with bated breath.</p><br />
<br />
<p>In Peace,</p><br />
<br />
|Title=Roleplay from Lilyana Briarwood<br />
|Signature=}}</div>Marcus Daubenyhttps://wiki.battlemaster.org/index.php?title=Briarwood_Family/Liliyana/A_Ball_in_Prospero&diff=218200Briarwood Family/Liliyana/A Ball in Prospero2023-08-07T15:37:39Z<p>Marcus Daubeny: </p>
<hr />
<div>{{BMMessage<br />
|Width=80<br />
|Type=Roleplay<br />
|Sent=Mon Aug 7, 2023 11:27:20<br />
|Sender=Lilyana Briarwood|Recipients=Message sent to all nobles of Perdan (19 recipients)<br />
|Content=<p><strong><u>Lilyana: A Ball in Prospero (Announcement)</u></strong><br />
<p>As the sun began its descent, casting a warm glow over Prospero Square, Lady Lilyana perched gracefully on the ornate balcony above the training yard. Below, her group of archers, the Heartseekers, practised their skill with bows and arrows, shooting at targets scattered about the field. Despite their name, the arrows often missed their mark as much as they found it. Lilyana observed the archers with a soft smile, her voice as calm and reassuring as a gentle breeze.</p><br />
<br />
<p>It appears that they seek the hearts of their targets as much as they seek the sky," she remarked cryptically to her younger brother Malachi, who sat beside her at the small table laden with cheeses, grapes, dried meats, and a bottle of Prospero Red wine. Malachi's frustration was apparent, and he couldn't resist a sarcastic retort.</p><br />
<br />
<p>"Yes, perhaps their training would benefit more if you hadn't been the one teaching them. I mean, we all know how well you handle a bow," he quipped.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Lilyana's laugh was melodic and gentle, a sound that could soothe even the most troubled hearts. "Ah, thee got me there," she replied, her deep burgundy eyes twinkling with amusement. She glanced at Malachi and saw the slight smile that had formed on his lips. She watched as a hint of a smile formed on Malachi's lips, his frustration momentarily eased by their playful banter.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Curiosity and concern in her voice, Lilyana turned to him. "What's troubling thee, dear brother?" she asked softly.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Malachi hesitated for a moment before answering. "It's just... while you've been chosen to remain here as Dame of Prospero Square, and Gwendolyn is to travel to Luria, I still don't know where our father will send me, and I don't want to leave home," he admitted.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Lilyana nodded understandingly, her expression reassuring. "Wherever thee go, my thoughts and love will follow thee," she assured him. "Thee have the Briarwood spirit within thine heart, and thee will excel wherever thee is sent. Staying here would be a disservice to thy talents. The winds of fate leave no question, thee art destined for greatness."</p><br />
<br />
<p>Malachi agreed, grateful for his sister's support. "Thank you, Lily," he replied.</p><br />
<br />
<p>As the conversation shifted, Malachi noticed his sister's attire and couldn't help but comment, "You seem rather dressed up today. Lilyana smiled gently, her hand tracing the intricate amethyst necklace adorning her neckline. "I shall soon invite the nobles of the realm to Prospero Square. We are to host a Ball in the Briarwood Manor," she revealed.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Malachi sighed, expressing his disdain for guests intruding on their home. "I hate how crowded it gets with such affairs," he grumbled.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Lilyana's smile remained unwavering. "It won't be so bad," she reassured him. "Thee might even meet a beautiful woman of whom thee may court." His cheeks flushed slightly, and Malachi stood up abruptly, walking to the railing. "Heartseekers!" he called out to the archers below. "That's enough for today. Go clean up, eat, and rest well. Tomorrow awaits."</p><br />
<br />
<p>As the archers disbanded and headed to the barracks, Malachi mumbled about his sister's ability to fluster him. Lilyana chuckled softly, her laughter like a delicate melody. "It's only because thy mind is so easy to fluster," she teased, fondness in her voice.Malachi shook his head, still smiling, as he walked away. "You always say that," he commented, disappearing from view.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Left alone on the balcony, Lilyana stood and walked to the nearby writing desk. She picked up a quill and began penning her invitations, her thoughts drifting to the words she would use to charm the nobles of the realm. As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting hues of orange and pink across the sky, she wrote with a sense of purpose and grace.</p><br />
<br />
<p>"Grace Upon Thee, Fair Noble Kindred, It is with great pleasure..."</p><br />
</p><br />
|Title=Roleplay from Lilyana Briarwood<br />
|Signature=}}<br />
<br />
<br />
{{BMMessage<br />
|Width=80<br />
|Type=Roleplay<br />
|Sent=Mon Aug 7, 2023 11:37:16<br />
|Sender=Lilyana Briarwood|Recipients=Message sent to all nobles of Perdan (19 recipients)<br />
|Content=<p><u><strong>Lilyana: A Ball in Prospero (The Invitation)</strong></u></p><br />
<br />
<p>Grace Upon Thee, Fair Noble Kindred,</p><br />
<br />
<p>It is with great pleasure that I announce that I have settled into my new estate in Prospero Square. It was an admittedly easy affair, for I hath lived in Aix and Prospero Square my whole life. </p><br />
<br />
<p>With this, I wish to invite thee all to share in a night of revelry, song, dance and enjoyment. On behalf of my own father and mother, I wish to invite thee all to our home in the Briarwood Manor in Aix. Drinks, food, accommodation for the night and all services of the Briarwood family will be made available to thee all to ensure thy pleasure whilst thee remains within our house for the ball.</p><br />
<br />
<p>I would appreciate a letter of affirmation for any who wish to join us, so I might make available enough guest rooms and other facilities needed.</p><br />
<br />
<p>May the winds of fate guide thee safely and warmly to Aix should thee come to join our revelry. I await thy replies with bated breath.</p><br />
<br />
<p>In Peace,</p><br />
<br />
|Title=Roleplay from Lilyana Briarwood<br />
|Signature=}}</div>Marcus Daubenyhttps://wiki.battlemaster.org/index.php?title=Briarwood_Family/Liliyana/A_Ball_in_Prospero&diff=218199Briarwood Family/Liliyana/A Ball in Prospero2023-08-07T15:29:03Z<p>Marcus Daubeny: Created page with "{{BMMessage |Width=80 |Type=Roleplay |Sent=Mon Aug 7, 2023 11:27:20 |Sender=Lilyana Briarwood|Recipients=Message sent to all nobles of Perdan (19 recipients) |Content=<p><stro..."</p>
<hr />
<div>{{BMMessage<br />
|Width=80<br />
|Type=Roleplay<br />
|Sent=Mon Aug 7, 2023 11:27:20<br />
|Sender=Lilyana Briarwood|Recipients=Message sent to all nobles of Perdan (19 recipients)<br />
|Content=<p><strong><u>Lilyana: A Ball in Prospero (Announcement)</u></strong><br />
<p>As the sun began its descent, casting a warm glow over Prospero Square, Lady Lilyana perched gracefully on the ornate balcony above the training yard. Below, her group of archers, the Heartseekers, practised their skill with bows and arrows, shooting at targets scattered about the field. Despite their name, the arrows often missed their mark as much as they found it. Lilyana observed the archers with a soft smile, her voice as calm and reassuring as a gentle breeze.</p><br />
<br />
<p>It appears that they seek the hearts of their targets as much as they seek the sky," she remarked cryptically to her younger brother Malachi, who sat beside her at the small table laden with cheeses, grapes, dried meats, and a bottle of Prospero Red wine. Malachi's frustration was apparent, and he couldn't resist a sarcastic retort.</p><br />
<br />
<p>"Yes, perhaps their training would benefit more if you hadn't been the one teaching them. I mean, we all know how well you handle a bow," he quipped.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Lilyana's laugh was melodic and gentle, a sound that could soothe even the most troubled hearts. "Ah, thee got me there," she replied, her deep burgundy eyes twinkling with amusement. She glanced at Malachi and saw the slight smile that had formed on his lips. She watched as a hint of a smile formed on Malachi's lips, his frustration momentarily eased by their playful banter.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Curiosity and concern in her voice, Lilyana turned to him. "What's troubling thee, dear brother?" she asked softly.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Malachi hesitated for a moment before answering. "It's just... while you've been chosen to remain here as Dame of Prospero Square, and Gwendolyn is to travel to Luria, I still don't know where our father will send me, and I don't want to leave home," he admitted.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Lilyana nodded understandingly, her expression reassuring. "Wherever thee go, my thoughts and love will follow thee," she assured him. "Thee have the Briarwood spirit within thine heart, and thee will excel wherever thee is sent. Staying here would be a disservice to thy talents. The winds of fate leave no question, thee art destined for greatness."</p><br />
<br />
<p>Malachi agreed, grateful for his sister's support. "Thank you, Lily," he replied.</p><br />
<br />
<p>As the conversation shifted, Malachi noticed his sister's attire and couldn't help but comment, "You seem rather dressed up today. Lilyana smiled gently, her hand tracing the intricate amethyst necklace adorning her neckline. "I shall soon invite the nobles of the realm to Prospero Square. We are to host a Ball in the Briarwood Manor," she revealed.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Malachi sighed, expressing his disdain for guests intruding on their home. "I hate how crowded it gets with such affairs," he grumbled.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Lilyana's smile remained unwavering. "It won't be so bad," she reassured him. "Thee might even meet a beautiful woman of whom thee may court." His cheeks flushed slightly, and Malachi stood up abruptly, walking to the railing. "Heartseekers!" he called out to the archers below. "That's enough for today. Go clean up, eat, and rest well. Tomorrow awaits."</p><br />
<br />
<p>As the archers disbanded and headed to the barracks, Malachi mumbled about his sister's ability to fluster him. Lilyana chuckled softly, her laughter like a delicate melody. "It's only because thy mind is so easy to fluster," she teased, fondness in her voice.Malachi shook his head, still smiling, as he walked away. "You always say that," he commented, disappearing from view.</p><br />
<br />
<p>Left alone on the balcony, Lilyana stood and walked to the nearby writing desk. She picked up a quill and began penning her invitations, her thoughts drifting to the words she would use to charm the nobles of the realm. As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting hues of orange and pink across the sky, she wrote with a sense of purpose and grace.</p><br />
<br />
<p>"Grace Upon Thee, Fair Noble Kindred, It is with great pleasure..."</p><br />
</p><br />
|Title=Roleplay from Lilyana Briarwood<br />
|Signature=}}</div>Marcus Daubenyhttps://wiki.battlemaster.org/index.php?title=Briarwood_Family/Liliyana&diff=218198Briarwood Family/Liliyana2023-08-07T15:28:52Z<p>Marcus Daubeny: </p>
<hr />
<div>[[File:lilyana_Briarwood.jpg]]<br />
<br />
{{Quotation| May the winds of fate guide you well come daybreak.|Lilyana Briarwood}}<br />
<br />
As the eldest child of Morgyn and Elias Briarwood, her very existence was a surprise, born on the night her parents consummated their wedding, catching the young nobles off-guard. They had not expected parenthood so soon, and Lilyana's arrival brought both joy and trepidation.<br />
<br />
As an infant, Lilyana was a fussy and difficult baby, the complete opposite of the serene and composed woman she would grow into. Yet, as the years passed, she transformed into an enigma, marked by her peculiar way of speaking and an unwavering calmness about her, regardless of the circumstances.<br />
<br />
Throughout her childhood, she exhibited unusual behaviours that set her apart from her peers. Often, she would be found in the family's garden, softly singing to herself, claiming she sang for their ancestors. Her passion for singing and dancing was evident, but she displayed no interest in learning the art of combat, a stark contrast to her cousin Zayn, who pursued martial skills ardently.<br />
<br />
Beyond her mysterious nature, Lilyana's heart brimmed with adoration for her younger siblings. She played an active role in raising and teaching them, cherishing their presence and offering them unwavering support and love.<br />
<br />
On her fifteenth birthday, Lilyana graced her family with a mesmerizing performance that brought tears to the eyes of everyone present, except for her younger sister Gwendolyn, who remained unfeeling and emotionless, an enigma of her own.<br />
<br />
In her later teen years, Lilyana's alluring personality and appearance attracted numerous suitors, but she skillfully evaded any marital arrangements, preferring her independence. While many were captivated by her flirtatious and provocative manner, she remained elusive, keeping her heart guarded.<br />
<br />
To prepare her for the responsibilities that came with being the heir of the Briarwood House, Lilyana underwent rigorous tutelage. She delved into the intricacies of finances, honed her leadership skills to command troops, and learned the nuances of high society. This, however, ruffled the feathers of her cousin Zayn, who believed he should have been the rightful heir as the eldest male.<br />
<br />
At the age of twenty-four, an unfortunate event led to a falling out with Zayn. In a drunken tirade, he spewed insults and vile words at Lilyana, branding her as a witless whore and other such insults. Remarkably, Lilyana retained her composure, never losing her small, polite smile in the face of his aggression. However, the situation escalated when her younger sister Gwendolyn challenged Zayn to a duel in defence of Lilyana's honour.<br />
<br />
Seeing her sister's life at stake, Lilyana grew deeply worried for Gwendolyn. Nevertheless, Gwendolyn proved to be a formidable opponent, shocking the family by easily defeating Zayn and severing three fingers from his dominant sword hand.<br />
<br />
In the aftermath of the duel, Lilyana's attempts to speak with Gwendolyn were met with aloofness, causing her considerable distress and heartache. Unbeknownst to her, Gwendolyn had set off on a journey to Dwilight, leaving behind only an air of mystery.<br />
<br />
Undeterred by the absence of her sister, Lilyana focused on the well-being of Prospero Square and her noble duties. With grace and dedication, she assumed the role of the Dame of Aix, ascending the ranks of Perdan's nobility, and embracing whatever challenges fate would present.<br />
<br />
==Roleplays==<br />
*[[/A Ball in Prospero/]]</div>Marcus Daubenyhttps://wiki.battlemaster.org/index.php?title=Briarwood_Family/Liliyana&diff=218197Briarwood Family/Liliyana2023-08-07T14:37:39Z<p>Marcus Daubeny: </p>
<hr />
<div>[[File:lilyana_Briarwood.jpg]]<br />
<br />
{{Quotation| May the winds of fate guide you well come daybreak.|Lilyana Briarwood}}<br />
<br />
As the eldest child of Morgyn and Elias Briarwood, her very existence was a surprise, born on the night her parents consummated their wedding, catching the young nobles off-guard. They had not expected parenthood so soon, and Lilyana's arrival brought both joy and trepidation.<br />
<br />
As an infant, Lilyana was a fussy and difficult baby, the complete opposite of the serene and composed woman she would grow into. Yet, as the years passed, she transformed into an enigma, marked by her peculiar way of speaking and an unwavering calmness about her, regardless of the circumstances.<br />
<br />
Throughout her childhood, she exhibited unusual behaviours that set her apart from her peers. Often, she would be found in the family's garden, softly singing to herself, claiming she sang for their ancestors. Her passion for singing and dancing was evident, but she displayed no interest in learning the art of combat, a stark contrast to her cousin Zayn, who pursued martial skills ardently.<br />
<br />
Beyond her mysterious nature, Lilyana's heart brimmed with adoration for her younger siblings. She played an active role in raising and teaching them, cherishing their presence and offering them unwavering support and love.<br />
<br />
On her fifteenth birthday, Lilyana graced her family with a mesmerizing performance that brought tears to the eyes of everyone present, except for her younger sister Gwendolyn, who remained unfeeling and emotionless, an enigma of her own.<br />
<br />
In her later teen years, Lilyana's alluring personality and appearance attracted numerous suitors, but she skillfully evaded any marital arrangements, preferring her independence. While many were captivated by her flirtatious and provocative manner, she remained elusive, keeping her heart guarded.<br />
<br />
To prepare her for the responsibilities that came with being the heir of the Briarwood House, Lilyana underwent rigorous tutelage. She delved into the intricacies of finances, honed her leadership skills to command troops, and learned the nuances of high society. This, however, ruffled the feathers of her cousin Zayn, who believed he should have been the rightful heir as the eldest male.<br />
<br />
At the age of twenty-four, an unfortunate event led to a falling out with Zayn. In a drunken tirade, he spewed insults and vile words at Lilyana, branding her as a witless whore and other such insults. Remarkably, Lilyana retained her composure, never losing her small, polite smile in the face of his aggression. However, the situation escalated when her younger sister Gwendolyn challenged Zayn to a duel in defence of Lilyana's honour.<br />
<br />
Seeing her sister's life at stake, Lilyana grew deeply worried for Gwendolyn. Nevertheless, Gwendolyn proved to be a formidable opponent, shocking the family by easily defeating Zayn and severing three fingers from his dominant sword hand.<br />
<br />
In the aftermath of the duel, Lilyana's attempts to speak with Gwendolyn were met with aloofness, causing her considerable distress and heartache. Unbeknownst to her, Gwendolyn had set off on a journey to Dwilight, leaving behind only an air of mystery.<br />
<br />
Undeterred by the absence of her sister, Lilyana focused on the well-being of Prospero Square and her noble duties. With grace and dedication, she assumed the role of the Dame of Aix, ascending the ranks of Perdan's nobility, and embracing whatever challenges fate would present.<br />
<br />
==Roleplays==</div>Marcus Daubeny