Difference between revisions of "Unti Family/Nerta/A6S3"
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|Sender=Nerta the Weaver | |Sender=Nerta the Weaver | ||
|Recipients=Everyone in Ar Agyr | |Recipients=Everyone in Ar Agyr | ||
− | |Content= | + | |Content=Fronepu. Tavern near the courthouse. One week later. |
− | |||
"No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no!" | "No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no!" | ||
Line 96: | Line 95: | ||
"Shut up, Old Man." | "Shut up, Old Man." | ||
− | The animated argument between the cloaked woman and the spectral reflection had been going on for most of the morning. Or realistically, every day since the Queen issued her proclamation. | + | The animated argument between the cloaked woman and the spectral reflection had been going on for most of the morning. Or realistically, every day since the Queen issued her proclamation making Nerta Judge. |
+ | |||
+ | The Senex and the Weaver rarely saw eye to eye, but this new office sharpened the divide. Duty against independence. | ||
+ | |Title=[[Melhed/Foederati|Foederati]] | ||
+ | }}</center> | ||
+ | |- | ||
+ | |||
+ | |- | ||
+ | |colspan=1 | <center> {{Message2 | ||
+ | |Width=100% | ||
+ | |Type=Roleplay | ||
+ | |Sender=Soren Navaar | ||
+ | |Recipients=Everyone in Ar Agyr | ||
+ | |Content=The tavern sounded lively, but Soren's scribes had assured him this was where Nerta would be found, as she had been. The tavern was still mostly empty in the morning hours, but a low fire was still burning to chase out a late autumn chill. It didn't take long to find Nerta. He could hear her before he found her in the corner, arguing with the window, and once he swore her drink before he realized the reflection was trying to get her to work. The Judge had been missing since appointed, and it did not take long for the Count to figure out why. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "If it isn't my favorite Nerta," he interrupted as he approached, a large bundle of fur in one hand. He didn't ask to join her, but instead pressed the bundle into her lap and pulled up the chair beside her. "I had the wolf collected and skinned," he explained. "There's more pelt if you want it, but you at least deserved a new cloak, after all the weather is getting colder," he explained, knowing winter would be on them soon enough. | ||
+ | |||
+ | A glance at the window and he saw the familiar reflection of Nerta's tormentor. He hadn't thought about it before, but he was probably aware of the aftermath of the fight with the wolf. Not that it made a huge difference, but he couldn't help wondering if he would have approved or not. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Waving over a drink and a refill for the priestess, Soren put one elbow on the table and rested his face in his hand as he looked at her. "Trouble with the new job? I guess it doesn't help that the world needs saving," he thought aloud. Slipping one hand under the table he put a hand on hers. "The offer to help still stands, even now, to get things going." | ||
+ | |Title=Count of Seven Rivers | ||
+ | }}</center> | ||
+ | |- | ||
+ | |||
+ | |- | ||
+ | |colspan=1 | <center> {{Message2 | ||
+ | |Width=100% | ||
+ | |Type=Roleplay | ||
+ | |Sender=Nerta the Weaver | ||
+ | |Recipients=Everyone in Ar Agyr | ||
+ | |Content=Buried under a mountain of fur by the generous Soren, Nerta slowly unburies herself, giving the shade in the window time to address the bard. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Hello lad. I see your arm's healed up nicely. I imagine the temple in Seven Rivers was happy to provide their lord with an Elixir." | ||
+ | |||
+ | The ghostly figure made a show of sitting in the empty chair, or at least floating in a rough approximation. Stroking the salted beard with one hand, those violet eyes flicker and he continues. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Hopefully you can talk some sense into her. After all, these are barbarians. We'll be able to hammer out a legal code in a couple hours." | ||
+ | |||
+ | "I... bloody, wolf..." finally free, Nerta huffs aside a stray hair and stabs a finger at the empty seat, "I don't care how easy it is! Judge is not..." | ||
+ | |||
+ | Nerta pauses the irritated rant at the feel of Soren taking a hand. Turning toward him she sniffs and gestures at the hide. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Thanks. I... don't have a lot of practice with tanning, but I'm sure I can figure something out." | ||
+ | |Title=[[Melhed/Foederati|Foederati]] | ||
+ | }}</center> | ||
+ | |- | ||
+ | |||
+ | |- | ||
+ | |colspan=1 | <center> {{Message2 | ||
+ | |Width=100% | ||
+ | |Type=Roleplay | ||
+ | |Sender=Soren Navaar | ||
+ | |Recipients=Everyone in Ar Agyr | ||
+ | |Content=Soren grins at Nerta, "I'd expect little else from a weaver rather than a tanner," he laughed. "There's enough for a cloak and some to sleep in if you need extra furs. You can always take it somewhere and send me the bill," he tells her before turning his attention to the sort of empty seat. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "I assume she's still living in the temples and donating her money toward the church," he tells the Old Man. "And while it may not be any of my business," he adds, directing it toward Nerta now. "I do have some interest in keeping you alive," he tells her. "Like it or not, I'd like to try to give you the option of a place you can return to from time to time." | ||
+ | |||
+ | Taking a sip from his drink, he couldn't help chuckling at the drunken festivities she'd met him at before. "Gotta admit this is better than a tent during a takeover, right?" he asks innocently enough, hoping Nerta would open up. | ||
+ | |Title=Count of Seven Rivers | ||
+ | }}</center> | ||
+ | |- | ||
+ | |||
+ | |- | ||
+ | |colspan=1 | <center> {{Message2 | ||
+ | |Width=100% | ||
+ | |Type=Roleplay | ||
+ | |Sender=Nerta the Weaver | ||
+ | |Recipients=Everyone in Ar Agyr | ||
+ | |Content=Nerta shrugs with a harrumph. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Nothing wrong with a tent, if the company is fine, and you're far more '''lively''' than my usual company." | ||
+ | |||
+ | The spectre rolls his eyes at the jest and interjects. | ||
+ | |||
+ | ''"Soren, she usually camps under the stars and gives all her coin to the plebeians. Even your charms can't take the wilds out of the Foederati."'' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Nerta eyes the ghost. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "He didn't complain last time..." | ||
+ | |||
+ | The shade mutters. ''"Doubt he was able."'' | ||
+ | |||
+ | "...But, speaking of the wilds. The Vernal Equinox is fast approaching and the temple even agreed to the Festival of Lights." | ||
+ | |||
+ | The woman glances out the window at the snowy street. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "I've not attended in a long while, it'll be nice. And... we could match. Purple like the Eternal Flame? Crimson like your blade?..." | ||
+ | |||
+ | Pausing she leans forward. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Actually what is that blade?" | ||
+ | |Title=[[Melhed/Foederati|Foederati]] | ||
+ | }}</center> | ||
+ | |- | ||
+ | |||
+ | |- | ||
+ | |colspan=1 | <center> {{Message2 | ||
+ | |Width=100% | ||
+ | |Type=Roleplay | ||
+ | |Sender=Soren Navaar | ||
+ | |Recipients=Everyone in Ar Agyr | ||
+ | |Content=Soren catches Nerta's hand in his, not that it does anything to stop her other fingers from jabbing him. "Keep that up, and we'll have to leave Aldo to pay the bill," he says, flashing an impish grin. After a sharing a contemplating look with the weaver he glanced in Aldo's direction. "I'm fine. Weirdly so, but fine. It has to do with the blade's history. What I could learn any-" He rolled his eyes and released Nerta's hand to jab her back, but she caught his hand this time and got him once again. "Cheater," he teased, squeezing his arm around her and ending the game for the moment. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "My grandfather's grandfather was... obsessed with killing daimons," he began. "He dragged this sword through two invasions bent on a path to freeing humanity. He challenged Overlord to a fight even. Luckily he was ignored or I might not be here today. Supposedly after he retired from the nobility, he reappeared as an adventurer from time to time and knew very little peace. He eventually couldn't fight any longer and passed the sword to my grandfather. This is the most accurate account that I have. My grandfather once told me that although the blade looks like this now, it was a white steel blade for a time. He took it through the sixth invasion where it slowly ate at his mind. He said it was like a constant weight that would crush him. My grandmother Ameria supported him through the invasion. If it weren't for her, he probably wouldn't have survived to the battle in Reeds where the portal stones were used to drive the daimons out of the city. He said after that, the sword was different, like a normal weapon, just sharper, deadlier than usual." | ||
+ | |||
+ | Soren paused to glance down at the sword. "It looks like this now, but I've never felt anything like what was described by him. I just like to keep it on hand because I don't want to deal with the consequences if someone found it lying around." He didn't want to speculate on whether the blade was actually purified in the portal years ago. The answer from these two was bound to be highly unlikely. "There's probably some greater purpose to it all that an ignorant sheep such as myself is not privy to, but it's useful in a fight to say the least." | ||
+ | |Title=Count of Seven Rivers | ||
+ | }}</center> | ||
+ | |- | ||
+ | |||
+ | |- | ||
+ | |colspan=1 | <center> {{Message2 | ||
+ | |Width=100% | ||
+ | |Type=Roleplay | ||
+ | |Sender=Nerta the Weaver | ||
+ | |Recipients=Everyone in Ar Agyr | ||
+ | |Content=Soren's retort earned one of those rare smiles from the usually sour woman, though her response is lost in the swirl of music and laughter in the tavern. He did get her to stop needling him, at least for a few minutes. | ||
+ | |||
+ | The spectral chaperon hardly seems worried by their antics, but then he'd been encouraging Soren for some time. The mention of daimons is greeted with far less enthusiasm. It reminds the Old Man of how far things had fallen, and how much there is to do. Stroking his beard, he considers the beams of sunlight that dance across the table. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Daimons are broken creatures, and attract broken men. But they are generally poor in craft. Thus though that blade was wielded by a daimon, I doubt it was made by one. | ||
+ | |||
+ | The pronouncement earns a puzzled look and a scowl from Nerta, leaving the ghost to sigh. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Come now, Dragons are beings of power and nature, thus their weapons are as nature gave them. Forging is a tool of humanity, something the broken shards must rely on, though it galls them. Either this sword was forged by a shattered servant, the echoes that linger in their stolen bodies, or something far older corrupted by the rage that consumes the daimons. I'm not sure which is more dangerous." | ||
+ | |||
+ | Nerta's sigh is long suffering. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Why is nothing ever simple? It's not ''just'' a daimon blade, it could be something '''worse'''?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | Waving a hand at the ghost, the woman jabs Soren hard in the belly. | ||
− | + | "I don't care, and we're not doing this now. We have a festival to plan and you're going to help me write up a Crystal Cursed letter to the queen about hosting a tournament." | |
|Title=[[Melhed/Foederati|Foederati]] | |Title=[[Melhed/Foederati|Foederati]] | ||
}}</center> | }}</center> | ||
|- | |- | ||
+ | |- | ||
+ | |colspan=1 | <center> {{Message2 | ||
+ | |Width=100% | ||
+ | |Type=Roleplay | ||
+ | |Sender=Soren Navaar | ||
+ | |Recipients=Everyone in Ar Agyr | ||
+ | |Content="We're planning the festival now?" Soren asks with a grin, trying not to dwell on whatever the weapon he had might actually be. "Alright, but then we have to do something about Judge Nerta's disappearance from her duties." | ||
+ | |||
+ | Casting a glance over at Aldo, Soren let out a long sigh. "I guess that's going to be me too." At least in his own research he'd made a light study of old Melhed's legal code. Maybe it wouldn't be so hard. That was wishful thinking at best. | ||
+ | |||
+ | As he looks at her, he can see the pained reluctance at the thought of doing legal work. "We can't leave Ar Agyr in limbo forever," he says attempting another jab at her. If she was going to start this again... "I'm sure we can figure something out together." Pulling away from her, Soren finally stands and offers her a hand up. "The sooner we do this, the sooner Aldo will leave you alone about it, you know." | ||
+ | |Title=Count of Seven Rivers | ||
+ | }}</center> | ||
+ | |- | ||
+ | |||
+ | |- | ||
+ | |colspan=1 | <center> {{Message2 | ||
+ | |Width=100% | ||
+ | |Type=Roleplay | ||
+ | |Sender=Nerta the Weaver | ||
+ | |Recipients=Everyone in Ar Agyr | ||
+ | |Content=Nerta groans and slumps against the man as he reminds her of work. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Judge... by the Gods." | ||
+ | |||
+ | The nightmarish image of being buried under scrolls and letters is so distracting, Soren manages to needle the woman twice before she even tries to mount a defense. For his part, the old ghost merely smiles and clears his throat. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Though I admire your enthusiasm Soren, these are barbarians. They'd not be able to handle the the legal code of the Republic. ''If the irritated lass would listen for five minutes:'' I figure we'd begin with the old Imperial code from when I was young." | ||
+ | |||
+ | The woman's scowl is broken by a furrowed brow. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "You were young once? That... seems more unbelievable than anything else." | ||
+ | |||
+ | The ghost runs a hand through his salt and pepper beard and glances between the pair. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Let's say, young and old at the same time. Come on then, to the court and I'll tell you what to write." | ||
+ | |Title=[[Melhed/Foederati|Foederati]] | ||
+ | }}</center> | ||
+ | |- | ||
|- | |- | ||
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|Sender=Katalynfae Dragul | |Sender=Katalynfae Dragul | ||
|Recipients=Personal Message to Nerta Unti | |Recipients=Personal Message to Nerta Unti | ||
− | |Content=Thank you all for the warm welcome. There are two that seem to be striving to get my attention. The Ice Queen and the | + | |Content=Thank you all for the warm welcome. There are two that seem to be striving to get my attention. The Ice Queen and the Mist Walker. They call to the two different sides of me. |
At the suggestion of Priestess Nerti, as soon as this infernal war with Reven is done, I will undertake a quest to determine which I will follow most closely. For now can we leave the temple opem to any of the Old Gods who wish to occupy it for a time? | At the suggestion of Priestess Nerti, as soon as this infernal war with Reven is done, I will undertake a quest to determine which I will follow most closely. For now can we leave the temple opem to any of the Old Gods who wish to occupy it for a time? | ||
|Title=Praetrix of Shattered Vales | |Title=Praetrix of Shattered Vales | ||
Line 291: | Line 459: | ||
“The Old Gods know that humanity can evolve, and their needs, goals, and desires change. You must choose now the one who best meets these in the present. The future will worry about itself.” Those eyes twinkled again. | “The Old Gods know that humanity can evolve, and their needs, goals, and desires change. You must choose now the one who best meets these in the present. The future will worry about itself.” Those eyes twinkled again. | ||
− | The Lady was silent in thought for a moment. “I must choose the Ice Queen, though I am sincerely tempted to choose you, | + | The Lady was silent in thought for a moment. “I must choose the Ice Queen, though I am sincerely tempted to choose you, Mist Walker” she finally said. Both of the Gods smiled and then faded into vapor. |
Phelan was at her side, “My Lady, are you alright? The peasants say that you fainted, do you need aid?” | Phelan was at her side, “My Lady, are you alright? The peasants say that you fainted, do you need aid?” | ||
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They might be less welcoming than you. | They might be less welcoming than you. | ||
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|Title=[[Melhed/Foederati|Foederati]] | |Title=[[Melhed/Foederati|Foederati]] | ||
}}</center> | }}</center> | ||
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Latest revision as of 07:25, 4 July 2022
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Judge | ||||||
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Knight Pauses
David Wierbiki, the player of Bergelmir Crownguard, has paused him for an indefinite period. | ||||||
Appointed as Judge
You have been appointed as Judge of your realm. Please read the Government Description carefully to familiarise yourself with your new responsibilities. | ||||||
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Katalynfae Dragul | ||||||
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Cali | ||||||
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