Arnickles Renodin/Maura/OS june
Roleplay from Lucius Archival (7 days, 21 hours ago)
message to all nobles of Obia'Syela Faith
It was quite in the temple at this hour. Most of the locals of Athol Margos or any other practitioners of the faith had departed for their homes and hearths, besides the small number of priests and clerics who attended to their business without need for noise or conversation. Moonlight shone through the large windows, its silver sheen contrasting with the orange flames of the lit braziers, crafting a dichotomy of colours. The clash felt strange in a place such as Obia, where unity through faith was perhaps the most prominent guiding feature, but more than that it was comforting. He was not the only contradiction in the realm.
Lucius was sat upon one of the pews, near the back of the temple, shielded from any prying eyes that might chance a glance inside. His unblemished hands were clasped together and his head bowed in reverence, resulting in a cascade of ruddy locks, creating a veil before his face. To any onlookers, he was surely a devoted follower of Obeah, giving her praise even at the witching hour. But, in truth, in all the hours he had spent there already, he had stopped bothering to pray almost since the very offset. Instead, he fought with himself, his mind and scepticism his foe of choice.
Why wouldn't Obeah answer him? Why couldn't he take her grace purely on faith?
The questions continued to dog him, pursuing him with the unceasing, inhuman vigour of the rogues who pressed against the nation's borders so often and so ruthlessly. Although he had received Goriad's lengthy religious speech by letter along his travels to Obia and although he had spent months now among the zealous and pious of the Heralds, the blind devotion simply had not come to him. If he strained, the he could feel perhaps the slightest ephemeral touch of Obeah; catch the most fleeting glimpse of her splendour. But it always felt as though he was fooling himself, exerting himself so hard to reach out that these glimpses were nought but the hallucinations of a weak and feeble mind.
Lucius doubted that the rest of the aristocracy would quite share his doubts. Although he felt his presence was the right thing to do and that Obia'Syela was the one place in all of Beluaterra where he could truly make a difference and distinguish himself, it would no doubt sink his standing like a stone if he made any admittance.
Would it be better if he was honest, or would it simply make things harder?
Lucius was not sure and, for that reason, he continued to sit in that shaded corner of the temple, willing himself to catch the most pervasive of diseases - religion. A sceptic among the devout was like the cold gleam of the moon clashing with the orange flames of a burning brazier.
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Roleplay from Ferdinand Greybrook (7 days, 4 hours ago)
Message sent to everyone in "Heralds of Obeah" (36 recipients) A New Fit
Standing by the barracks, Ferdinand felt in his heart that this was the right decision. Hiring full fledged knights, men who would not buckle under pressure or fear of the unknown. These men and women would serve Obeah well. Too many times Ferdinand felt that his infantry fell short of what they could have achieved. He only knew of close quarters combat. Even the scars he now bore don't change that. The horrors in the south have made him anew - a man of resilience and determination. As Ferdinand looked off into the distance, Captain Erdman came into view with armour shining in the light. This was a new fit. The right fit.
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Roleplay from Vahanian Blint (7 days, 4 hours ago)
Message sent to everyone in "Heralds of Obeah" (36 recipients) Vahanian walked through the recruitment and training grounds in Rines, he'd just finished refitting and paying for more recruits for his soldiers. He'd left his trusted captain, Heinz, who'd been with him through many battles, in charge of overseeing the 70 men he now commanded.
As Vahanian, and his steward and longtime friend, Baldwin, wandered through the grounds, they nodded at familiar units and faces, until they happened upon Young Knight Ferdinand.
Vahanian made his face a mask of stone as he inspected the young knight's troops. The eagerness that seemed to ooze from the young knight was palpable, he could tell how desperately Ferdinand wanted to serve Obeah and the Templar order.
Vahanian stood in front of Ferdinand, his hazel eyes staring down at the younger man, he did everything he could to suppress a smile beneath his salt and pepper colored beard, before saying "You seem pleased with your choice of soldiers.. I look forward to fighting alongside them."
Vahanian allowed a brief smile and a glimmer of approval to shine through his eye before returning his face to an unreadable mask of stone.
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Roleplay from Antonia Fitz Roberts (6 days, 6 hours ago)
message to all nobles of Obia'Syela
Battle in Drinhilla
A war in foreign lands, for a foreign people. It felt more like something her cousin Franz would do. However the Grand Herald had called them here, to this foreign field and they had answered. Antonia, standing in her blood red plate but with her helmet as yet still under her arms, looked up and down the allied lines. Their arms and armour were fairly alien to her, but she had expected that. What she had not expected was such a disparity in where each marshal had ordered their soldiers. For some reason, she was standing next to archers.
‘Obeah preserve us, this can only go wrong’, Antonia muttered as she saw the ghouls and long dead skeletons begin to shuffle forward, marching in ranks next to the lumbering forms of trolls. As the archers let fly, she placed her helmet on her head, restricting her vision, and ordered the Martyrs to advance towards the enemy. Rather than the usual screaming charge adopted by her warriors, she had insisted that they advance in good order. Looking to her left, she saw Jorvik do the same. It was only at the last minute that the warcry of ‘Acriter et Fideliter’ went up and the Martyrs broke into charge. Quickly they found themselves surrounded by roaring trolls and deathly silent skeletons, their faces permanently grinning as some mysterious force guided their actions. Antonia quickly lost all sense of time as she set about her grim work, her zweihander rising and falling, guided by her long honed instincts. Though she concentrated only on what was immediately around her, she sensed that her warriors were falling fast. Soon she heard the cry of Jorvik ordering a retreat.
‘Coward’, she roared, splitting the skull of a troll in front of her. She would be having words. Her fellow knight would not enjoy them. She had a brief moment of relief as she heard the orders for the Inquisitorial Guard to join the melee. But this was short lived as all around her she could see, even through the restricted vision of her helmet, that her banners were being cut down. The sacred banner of the Blessed Lady fell first, though her personal banner of the Scarlet Fox fell quickly afterwards. Soon, all she could see were the enemy. ‘If this is to be my end, so be it’ Antonia roared and leapt further into the melee, hacking and slashing as if she were possessed. However, strong hands grabbed her and pulled her bodily away from the melee. She heard Rossitta shout
‘You three, cover us. Rejoice, for you die for Obeah’
‘No, no, no!!!’ Antonia roared in fury, struggling in the strong arms of Rebecca, ‘there are still more of them, I can kill them’
‘Ana, the women are spent, we cannot fight on, for us this battle is over’ Antonia continued to struggle as she was pulled back behind the archery lines, where at last her enormous bodyguard let her go. There she watched the final acts of the battle. As she pulled off her helmet her blonde hair spilled over her face, dripping with blood. Despite the worry of her healers, none of it was her own
‘Leave me, I’m fine, go attend someone who actually needs you’, She roared, shaking with rage. She threw her helmet to one side and stormed off back to the Obean camp. She was used to losses, but her fury was more at the fact that there had been no communication regarding deployment with their allies. Still covered in blood, she headed for the command tent of Marshal Maura. As she approached, one servant stepped forward
‘My lady, the Marshal is still on the field’
‘Excellent, I shall wait inside’
‘Erm, that is not possible my lady’, the servant said primly, ‘for one, you do not have an appointment, and you can’t just invade the privacy of a fellow noble’
At this, Antonia picked up the servant, her muscles barely straining as she brought him up to her face
‘I. Shall. Wait. Inside’, she repeated, her voice a low growl
‘I am afraid that is not possible’, the servant whimpered, trying to wriggle free
‘Say that again’
‘What?’
‘Say that again’
‘I am afraid it will not be possible for you to wait inside’
‘I thought that is what you said’ Antonia smiled and threw the servant into a rack of weapons nearby. Shoving another servant aside, she ducked low into the tent and took a seat, waiting for the marshal’s return.
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Roleplay from Maura Arnickles Renodin (6 days, 5 hours ago)
Message sent to all nobles in the region Drinilla (12 recipients) Inquisitorial Guard fought bravely that day. They broke through the lines of the undead and then the trolls but the Inquisitor was still not pleased with the outcome of the battle. Killing beastly rearguard they took the remaining undead in the pincer manouver and even though they were the last infantrymen standing, Maura felt a pinch of bitterness as she noticed Ulli calling retreat the second she looked away. He done that one time too many - she thought.
Following the conclusion of the battle Maura dropped her helmet and gave her one-and-halfhanded huge crossbreed of a scimtar and a falchion for Anteria to polish. On the way to her tent she was accosted by one of the servants:
"M-my Lady, t-there is someone... something I should, uhm... you shouldn't" - the man struggled to speak, so the Inquisitor ordered - "Spill it out already!" and the man told her about the visitor and that he stopped her but she must've sneaked in later because she is now waiting inside. Maura looked at the red spot on his forehead, his ruffled hair and a knocked over rack of weapons.
"Lying to the Inquisitor is sooo smart..." - Maura said before pushing the man casually onto the knocked over weaponstand, he fell with a mighty clang of steel on steel.
"Good day to you Vice-Marshal" - the Inquisitor said as she entered the tent before either of them could look at one another. It was an easy guess - there were only two women in the entire expeditionary force who could enter her command tent uninvited, and one of them was herself.
Walking towards the table by which Antonia was seating, Maura took a good look at her, after all she barely ever seen a woman that was more physically imposing than herself. The Vice-Marshal was several inches taller than Maura and of athletic build but her facial features would rather suggest a courtly lady than a warrior, Marshal couldn't help but think how many men underestimated her for her beauty, and certainly at their own peril. Now standing right in front of Antonia Maura spoke again:
"A fine battle today, Dame Antonia, can I offer you some water? Forgive me but there is neither wine nor mead served in marshal's tent."
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Roleplay from Antonia Fitz Roberts (6 days, 1 hour ago)
Message sent to all nobles in the region Drinilla (7 recipients)
Antonia looked up as Maura entered, remembering that she was still covered in blood. However, it was too late to do anything about that now so she simply said
‘Water would be grand, thank you’, Antonia accepted a cup and downed it, the cool, sweet liquid reinvigorating her, ‘I’ve seen better battles. To be honest with you, the lack of coordination between our lines and the lines of our allies was appalling. However, not much we can do about that now, I’ve already sent letters to coordinate for the next battle. I lost nearly the same amount of women in Ardmore and we were facing a far mightier foe. But enough about that, I did not come here to rant but for us to properly get to know one another. If we are to have a good professional relationship, we must at least have an amiable personal one’
At this last, Antonia leaned back in her chair resting the now empty cup on her knee
‘Tell me about yourself, Inquisitor. We cannot hope to be friends if we are a mystery to one another’
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Roleplay from Maura Arnickles Renodin (5 days, 5 hours ago)
Message sent to all nobles in the region Tsamn (10 recipients)
‘Tell me about yourself, Inquisitor. We cannot hope to be friends if we are a mystery to one another’
Antonia said, leaning back in her chair. Maura was taken aback, she did not know why she didn't quite expect it - she very well should've. As an Inquisitor, she was much better at listening than talking, still - she pondered what to tell her guest.
"Ah, let's see..." - Maura trailed her finger on the rim of her cup in deep thought - "You may not know that about me, but only recently I started to live a life of a noble. Believe it or not, but I was born and raised a nomad on the Desert of Silhouettes, half-oblivious to my noble heritage. A hostile place... perhaps the most hostile, life there was hard and uncertain, even more so for people without a family name, even more so for children. Strangely I recall my time there as the happiest in my life."
She delved once more into deep thought - should I talk about the Earl? - a throbbing pain pierced the ghost of her absent thumb and she decided against it.
"My paths crossed with a noblewoman - Jarra Bennet, my lady..." - the Inquisitor's motionless face broke into a most subtle smile, that disappeared as swiftly as it appeared - "She was a lady here in Obia'Syela, a prominent one, a Margravine of Rueffilo. We brought the region from ruin to excellence. One of the finest regions in the realm it became, we raised the finest recruitment center and defended the townsland from endless assaults of monsters and undead from the south, against all odds. We even once held the wall with five archers and ten rock-hurling peasants! At the end of the battle it was only me and her left standing."
Maura's tone was shifting from cold and matter-of-factly to a hearty one as she spoke. Then suddenly somberness returned to her voice and her features.
"But it's all in the past." - she said and went silent for a long minute.
"The quality I seek doesn't exist in nature, it has to be made." - the Inquisitor half-whispered and then continued audibly - "Would you mind answering me a question Dame Antonia? Let's say your finest warrior would need a shield of raw steel, one that would suit her perfectly, that would make her unstoppable, and you would choose to grant her such an item. Let's say you would find a perfect nugget of iron, a perfect armourer; then you would take her measures and study her style of fighting. Let's say you would gather all the required knowledge and materials, and the finest armourer would tell you that he indeed could make such a shield, but it would be costly and would fit only this one warrior, if anyone else would try to use this shield, they would soon find it useless. Let's say sparing no gold and effort you would agree and eventually your finest warrior would end up with a finest shield, just for her. Imagine now that after many glorious campaigns your champion would die, fall in a battle against impossible odds..." - Maura leaned towards Antonia - "What would you do with the shield?"
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Roleplay from Antonia Fitz Roberts (5 days, 4 hours ago)
message to all nobles of Obia'Syela
Antonia listened in interest at Maura’s story, and pondered her question carefully
‘The Desert of Silhouettes? That’s in Dwilight is it not? I grew up in Poryatu and was always told never to go near the desert due to few people surviving any significant time there. You must have had a hardy upbringing’, Antonia looked into the middle distance, before giving her answer
‘On your question: if the iron was as perfect as you say, I would return to the armourer and ask him to melt down the shield and make it again for my next finest warrior. Even if that warrior was Rosie, who I would honour in death above all else, burying a warrior with their weapons has always seemed foolish to me’, at this she reached for her zweihander and showed the pommel to Maura, which was carved into a fox head, ‘this blade is generations old, carried by the first of my line. It is made of the finest steel and is near perfect as a killing tool. If this had been buried with the first of my line, then it would never have been wielded to such devastating effect by the other heroines of my family. While such items hold sentimental value, if they have a use they must be put to that use. As that shield cannot be used by any other, it would either be buried alongside its wielder, serve as decoration in my cousin’s armoury at Fox Hall, or be melted down and the iron reused. The latter is the most pragmatic solution and so that is what I would adopt. I am a sentimental person, but not when it comes to weapons of war’
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Roleplay from Maura Arnickles Renodin (5 days, 2 hours ago)
Message sent to all nobles in the region Tsamn (10 recipients) Maura gave no signs what she felt but she was obviously content with the answer. She pointed at Antonia's zweihander - "Yes, tools of war must be adjusted to the war at hand. If it means they need to be reforged or repurposed - so be it." - she groaned heartily and now pointing to herself she said - "And this particular shield now learns to be a sword. An arduous process it certainly is, but I must see it through. I once was a guard, a sentinel, that and nothing else entirely. I am done with chains of singular purpose. See me just as an inquisitor if you'd like, most people do, but perhaps more accurate it would be to call me the Inquisitor, for at the end of my path is not one of the pointless truths a common heretic can spew forth when you shove a glowing iron down his less obvious cavities. Oh no, my role within the Inquisition is the ultimate one, I am certain it will have an ultimate cost at one point but it will reward me with the ultimate truth and equip me to face the ultimate foe."
The Inquisitor smiled, now not an absentminded smile that escaped through the rigidness of the mask of her face but a full conscious smile. "Yes, daimons" - she said - "Have you seen one? I have not. Most of the Obian nobles have not. Grand Templar Vahanian fought them, the Oracle of course, Grand Inquisitor Jessica, Grand Chancellor Erheas, perhaps Marshal Boltgan and Sir Tom. The rest of us will face an enemy we would struggle to even imagine. Each invasion that plagues these lands is more violent than the one that came before it. We purge the heresy now because the weak of mind and soul will become tools of war for the daimon lords."
Maura offered her guest a piece of cloth to wipe the blood off her face and pointing at her she said: "But enough about me, I am certain there is quite a story behind that woman in a crimson armour."
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Roleplay from Antonia Fitz Roberts (4 days, 3 hours ago)
Message sent to all nobles in the region Tsamn (13 recipients) ‘The armour has more story than I. It is the armour of the Scarlet Fox. Every generation, a woman is chosen to pick up the mantle and carry on the legend of the founder of our house, Giesla. As to me personally, I grew up with my cousins and siblings in Poryatu. I loved all my family, but none more so than cousin William and my brother Marc Antonio’, Antonia looked to one side as she remembered, ‘I was the family favourite. I wasn’t quite the smartest, the strongest or the best fighter, but I was the easiest to love. I was always able to get out of trouble by pinning the blame on someone else, usually my little brothers.’ Antonia sighed as she remembered
‘But there was one bit of trouble I could not get out of. I fell in love’ The painfulness of the memories made it a struggle for her to continue, ‘or at least I thought I did. I see now how wrong I was. The man was almost twice my age and I was still basically a child. Soon I was with child myself. When my mother found out, on her return from campaign as she was a Scarlet Fox before me, she had the man torn apart with horses. However, my father could not stand the sight of me and cast me out once my son, my little Manfred, was born. He wanted me exiled from the family, but his brother would not allow it and took me in. Marc Antonio hated our father and ran away to join me’ At this she began to smile again ‘Those were once again happy days, for he brought my little Manfred with him and I was with my cousins William and Leopold, in a home where I was loved’
Antonia wished she had a proper drink to be able to finish this story, but she respected Maura too much to break her rules. ‘I was sixteen when we had word that my mother had died, fighting in some foreign field. It was then that I decided to take my place as a head of the family branch. With the help of Marc Antonio, William and my dearest friend Rosie I went back to my old home. My father had always been a weak man, nothing like his brother nor my mother. Konrad and Isabella Fitz Roberts were strong, my father was nothing but a cowardly sadist. He died at my hand, and not quickly. We relished in it, we four teenagers. It was that night that our youth ended. I was made head of my family branch, but I wanted to see the world. I bought a ship, named her after my mother and took to a life of privateering. That is how I came to our Blessed Lady’s shores, where I discovered our faith. My corsairs underwent a conversion and became as they are today. But we still retain our love for drink and for pillage.’ She leant back as she said this. ‘there, I think that is all you need to know, save that I was made Scarlet Fox as a compromise between the heads of our rival branches, William and Franz’ At this last name, she spat. It was at this that she realised how much she had divulged. No wonder this woman was an inquisitor, she had made her spill her secrets without even lifting a finger
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