De Haguns Family/Furiae/The Lady and the Pirate

How Furiae and Haide came to knew each other, and why they went to the Menagerie of the Damned.

Letter from Furiae de Haguns

Dame Haide Osoro,

I have heard from one of my many friends in Golden Farrow that my former estate in the Stronghold Precint has been taken by you, good dame.

I do not think introductions might be necessary, as you must have heard of me. Yes, I am the Baroness Furiae that so many speak fondly in Golden Farrow.

Not long ago, as I said previously, I used to serve the Royal Duke of Golden Farrow, His Grace Solomon Greybrook as a dame of Golden Farrow. Now I am his vassal as lady of Faithill, a fierce region that lies beneath the Barrow Peaks and watches over the southern border of Tol Goldora.

It always pleases my heart to see another young dame rising up within the nobility of Tol Goldora, either to become knighted or to rule as a lady. Not long ago, we had the young dame Nalaya Everwind arriving from East Continent, or to say more specifically, the Kingdom of Perdan, from where I also come.

Now, I have spoken too much about myself, I am afraid. What about you, dame of Golden Farrow? From where do you come, and what are your plans for Tol Goldora? What do you plan to achieve in these lands?

You have arrived in a most auspicious time, as the marriage between our ruler, the Autarch of Tol Goldora, the Illustrious Lucius Navaar, as well as my friend and commander, the Stratarch Svari Storme, is coming. If not before, should you attend the ceremony, we may meet there.

Should you need anything or have any doubts concerning Tol Goldora, fear not to contact me. And if I may suggest, you may find it useful to send a letter to the nobles of the realm to introduce yourself. Just beware of writing it yourself, I have found that ink is terrible for the hands, and therefore I only dictate them so my scribes will write them in my stead.

Yours truly, and carried by the winds,

Furiae de Haguns

Baroness of Faithill

Marshal of the Gylden Expeditionary Legion

Letter from Haide Osoro

Baroness Furiae,

It is good to meet the force behind the name. I was visiting with locals earlier this morning and heard mention in passing of a fiery brunette who once looked over the Stronghold Precinct.

From what I've heard of Faithill, it sounds a lovely place to relax. "A sleepy little resting place," I believe it was described. That sounds nice, but truth be told, I fear I would go stir crazy. I am glad the quaint town has a patient warden such as yourself to maintain the peace.

As for what I'm doing in Tol Goldora, time will tell. As a rule of thumb, I am uninterested in the performative nature of politics; I am much more at home on the ship deck or a battlefield than supping around a gilded table, so I naturally find myself drawn to the Order of the Gylden Sword.

Perhaps I will see you at the wedding. I normally don't enjoy such extravagant affairs but free mead is free mead.

It is interesting you should mention ink; I've always rather enjoyed getting my hands dirty.

H.

Roleplay from Furiae de Haguns

Roleplay from Furiae de Haguns

(Personal message to Haide Osoro) The young baroness sat upon a high oaken chair, its back surmounted by cushions and covered in a long linen blanket in Faithill's green and black colours, her chin resting in the palm of her hand. The other hand carried a goblet, and she kept moving it in a repetitive movement, the sweetened red wine whirling lightly inside. She eyed lazily the hearth that kept the halls of the Longhouse warm, the tiny flames dancing before her eyes. It was clear she was bored, and her mind distant. "And with the current levels of consumption of grains, which have been increased with the arrival of the Thunderstorm Guard, m'lady, we should be able to supply the region for..." "Yes, yes, yes, I know. I know, captain Magnus, thank you for reminding me", impatiently, her eyes darted to her loyal captain of the guard, as he reported on the granaries current storage. Furiae knew full well the situation, as winter had been quite rough on the production of her lands, and she had neglected the defenses of the town against monster's incursions, for she had been feasting and fighting at the tournament in Golden Farrow, in honor of the Autarch and the Stratarch's coming wedding. Of course, to this young, up and coming and ambitious foreign noblewoman, mingling with fellow nobles in the tournament grounds, drinking and watching champions fight was more important ways enhance her own reputation and status than coming to the defense of her newly awarded barony. Peasants and food were replaceable, nobles such as her, rare. "So, m'lady, moving to the next subject, this has arrived...", said the stern and study soldier, handing her a letter. "From whom?", asked the baroness, with disinterest. The captain shrugged lightly, but not ashamed. He did not know how to read, as Furiae soon remembered, so she just nodded and opened the letter. The captain knew the teenager too well for the months they had been together ever since leaving the land of lions, Perdan, in the East Continet. Furiae was still a lioness cub, but a lioness nonetheless. Proud, fierce, and easy to catch a slight. He knew when she was upset because, despite her best efforts, the girl's countenance changed slowly, first her jaw becoming rigid, then her eyes frowning. This time was no different, but he knew better than to ask. "This... Dame Haide Osoro, what do we know of her?", asked the baroness, in a cold, unforging tone. "M'lady, nothing at the moment." "So she is a nobody?" "M'lady, I wouldn't say so, she just arrived, but she is a noble and a Dame of Golden Farrow..." and he wanted to point out that Furiae had been a 'nobody' before. There were so many things he wanted to teach this girl, but knew that life would work its way to humble her. After all, she paid him and his soldiers in gold, and very much enjoyed having his head connected to the rest of his body. "Very well, captain", said the Haguns girl, rising from the oaken chair, and covering herself with a long sable cloak to keep her warm. "Bring me ink and a feather, and parchment, I will be at my office." "Should I bring the scribe, m'lady?" "No, captain. Not this time. I shall pen this letter myself."

Furiae de Haguns

Letter from Furiae de Haguns

(this letter's handwriting is clearly different from the last one, which was more formal and simple - instead, it has elegant and elongated words drawn in the parchment, slightly curved, revealing a carefully written and beautiful penmanship)

Dame Haide Osoro,

I am grateful to know that Stronghold Precint still remembers me fondly. There are such rare stars that shine brightly wherever they are or go, bringing grace, beauty and valor that enrich the lives of those so fortunate to serve them. I am glad to know that I have been such a star in Golden Farrow, and I hope you can live to shine as well, and mark your way in the world.

Faithill is certainly a lovely place, and definitely lacks the grandiosity of Golden Farrow. There are some benefits of living a quiet place, my good dame, for one can notice any strangers roaming the countryside or the town. It is unlike the capital, however, whose bustling streets may as well serve as cover to assassins who prowl with malicious intent of harming young and naïve nobles who do not know their place in society and may find themselves targeted for being too quick with their pens, writing before thinking.

I commend your disinterest in politics, for it reveals a good streak of character to know where one can thrive or not. As I have told another young dame of Golden Farrow, some are born and fated to be soldiers, while others are destined to be natural leaders and rulers. My dame, if you know where you stand and belong, I can only congratulate you. One cannot struggle against destiny, but only embrace it.

As you might know, I am the Marshal of the Gylden Expeditionary Legion, by the Stratarch’s grace.

Tol Goldora has two Armies, the prides of Tol Goldora, led by its respective Marshals with the assistance of their Vice-Marshals, under the command of the Stratarch Svari Storme.

One, the Golden Host, is capably led by Marshal Antigone Polytus. It is our main Army, acting as both shield and sword against monsters incursions, undead hordes, and other enemy realms.

The Expeditionary Legion is the second army, which serves as an advanced raiding war party to attack the roguelands, regions where lawlessness or the undead reign, with the objective of looting for treasures and food, for the good of Tol Goldora. We travel by land or sea, and recently ventured deep into the Sapphire Blue, where more recently we faced hordes of monsters in Laraibina.

My good dame, have you ever braved the seas or fought in battles? I would be curious to know of your military experience.

This because I do have experience with getting my hands dirty, but it is not in ink black, and rather blood red. And as you see, acting as Marshal may see me away from Faithill when leading expeditions into the roguelands, so I would need a steward to attend to administrative matters in the region.

If my good dame enjoys getting her hands dirty with ink, as states in the closing of your letter, I could always use a steward to tend to my barony in my absence. It is a very noble and rewarding profession, and extremely important for the wellbeing of the realm. After all, not all can be warriors.

On a final note, I am not a mead person myself. I find it quite rancid in taste, and would rather have wine. It is more refined and pleasant to the noble palate.

Yours truly, and carried by the winds,

Furiae de Haguns

Baroness of Faithill

Marshal of the Gylden Expeditionary Legion

Roleplay from Haide Osoro

Roleplay from Haide Osoro

(Personal message to Furiae de Haguns) Haide takes a swig from her waterskin. The long march to Mech Alb was trying her (admittedly short) patience, and the further she gets from the sea, the more uneasy she feels. Around her, the gently rolling hills of Farrowfield seem to stretch on forever. Farmlands. Farmlands. More farmlands. The only structures breaking up the monotony are the humble Town of Farrowfield, where her new friend Nalaya resides, and, in the far distance, the Golden Keep. "Made of pure gold." One of her Osos—Eduardo—nudges her gently in the side and nods towards the Keep, a sideways grin splayed across his tanned face. A few other Osos snicker. Haide knows she's young. And, as far as anyone knows, untested in battle. So her infantrymen seem to take satisfaction in giving her a hard time. "Perhaps you can collect your salary from its walls," Haide retorts. That collects a few laughs, and she feels a bit better. She doesn't mind the teasing; there's something comforting about the light jabbing. But deep down, she knows she will have to prove herself soon to keep their respect. Hopefully, an opportunity will present itself in Mech Alb. "A raven," another one of her Osos announces. He collects a tightly rolled letter from the black bird's leg and delivers it to Haide. Finally. Something to stave off this boredom. She peels off the wax seal and shakes out the parchment. The handwriting is stunning, and she knows immediately who was the sender. As she reads, her fingertips find the deep indentations from the quill on the other side of the page. It's a wonder the paper didn't rip clean through. Oops, she thinks to herself with a smirk. 'Perhaps I ruffled some feathers....

Haide Osoro

Letter from Furiae de Haguns

Peers of Tol Goldora,

I am currently in Golden Farrow, but on my way to offer support in Mozyr against the undead. It will take me 25 hours to reach the final destination, if everything goes accordingly. Please let me know is anyone else is coming. my Thunderstorm Guard is a mixed-infantry unit, so may help with ranged attacks.

Yours truly, and carried by the winds,

Furiae de Haguns

Baroness of Faithill

Marshal of the Gylden Expeditionary Legion

Letter from Haide Osoro

(This letter is scrawled in haste.)

Marshal Furiae,

I know I owe you a response from your last letter, but thought it prudent to let you know as soon as possible that I, too, am en route to Mozyr. My best estimate places our arrival sometime tomorrow, about ten hours from this writing.

I have with me my Osos Negros, three-and-twenty infantrymen ready for battle.

May we fight side by side with honor and then celebrate our victories over ale (or wine, if you absolutely must).

Good tides and tidings,

Haide Osoro Dame of Golden Farrow

Letter from Furiae de Haguns

(this letter is also written in haste, with a different penmanship from Furiae's more elaborated one)

Dame Haide Osoro,

I thank you for your missive, so I may have an idea on who else is moving to support Mozyr.

Is the Golden Host moving with you from Mech Derris? Are you going all by yourself, with your Osos Negros, to fight the undead?

Unfortunately, I believe you may arrive earlier than me to fight the hordes. Beware of the monsters and undead, they are not just simple creatures or piles of bones. I have learned this the hard way in my life.

If you find overwhelming odds, do not hesitate to fall back to Farrowfield and wait for support.

I praise you for your efforts and eagerness to go into battle, and wish you good luck. May the Tidemother shield you from the Void Gods and their unfoul creatures.

Yours truly, and carried by the winds,

Furiae de Haguns

Baroness of Faithill

Marshal of the Gylden Expeditionary Legion

Letter from Haide Osoro

(this letter is written with a shaky hand, as if the author were nervous...... but of course that's not possible)

Marshal Furiae,

Nay, the Osos Negros and I move alone as far as I know. We were in Mech Alb when word arrived of undead hordes terrorizing peasants in Mozyr and we departed at once.

I've received reports that suggest Ser Lamidithous and Dame Ivanka are also traveling through Mech Derris. But I do not know if either party has given word that they are en route to Mozyr. One can only hope those are their intentions.

We will proceed with caution.

May the Tidemother's winds guide our arrows and may our swords unleash a storm upon these abominable creatures.

-H

Letter from Haide Osoro

Baroness Marshal Furiae,

My Osos Negros and I have stopped for the night, just having crossed over the border into Mozyr. From this spot on the hill, I can see I am joined by Dame Ivanka's Crimson Bows and Ser Lamidithous' Heavy Dragons, as well as a horde of some five-and-forty monsters and undead. It seems as though we will attack at sunset.

For the time being, I finally have a moment to myself to respond properly to your beautifully written letter:

I once heard stars described as pinpricks in the celestial dome which allow the light of the heavens to shine through. As I stare at them hanging in the sky now, I think that a lovely interpretation.

Inversely, I once heard a heretic pronounce that stars are but gaseous explosions in a dark void of nothingness.

You resemble the former, no doubt.

And while I appreciate your offer of employ, Baroness, I will have to respectfully decline. Ink, blood, and seawater—they're all the same to my hands, but in them I prefer silver swords over spoons.

As we head into battle side-by-side soon, though, I reckon I should admit I am impressed by you. Truthfully, you have accomplished much in your ten-and-seven years. And while I wish I could regale you with tales of my own military prowess, recent events deem that impossible.

I would rather keep these cards close to the chest, but I know it is important to be honest with one's allies. And besides, you seem someone who has eyes and ears in all corners of the realm, so perhaps you already have heard. So I will get it over with and out in the open.....

The other night, the Tidemother spit me up on the beach with a knot on my head and my memories wiped clean.

The peculiar manner in which they were erased lead me to believe some foul play was involved. I remember a crashed ship and a purple flash of light. Aside from that, my memories come back to me reflexively but with no other information attached. Ask me what I like to drink and I can tell you "mead" but cannot tell you how I know this. Like an iceberg with nothing underneath.

You need not worry about this in the battle tomorrow, however; I know still know how to handle a sword. The last thing I'd ever want is pity or for you to think me vulnerable—I am not. But I will always be honest and thought this important to share.

I look forward to meeting in person tomorrow. May the Tidemother guide us all.

-H

Letter from Haide Osoro

(This letter is penned with a shaking hand)

Baroness Marshal Furiae,

As the sun rose, my Osos Negros and I engaged with the terrorizers. I had thought perhaps we would be joined by the Crimson Bows and Heavy Dragoons, but we were not.

We were overwhelmed. Osos were slaughtered. I ordered a retreat.

It is a humiliating and inexcusable failure of my leadership. The responsibility rests solely on my shoulders, as my Osos fought valiantly and with bravery.

I apologize for my failure and its reflection on the Golden Host.

I will rally my men and await your arrival.

Haide Osoro Dame of Golden Farrow

Roleplay from Furiae de Haguns

Roleplay from Furiae de Haguns

(Personal message to Haide Osoro) Location: Between Farrowfield and Mozyr Furiae had set up a small camp near the causeway that led from Farrowfield towards Mozyr, so the Thunderstorm Guard could have a moment of respite after their forced march from Golden Farrow. The coldness of the season had caused them to slow down the pace, though the winter didn’t seem to be as bad as in the Perdan Mines. Sitting on a fallen tree and dressed only in boiled leather armor instead of her preferred gowns, she had Haide’s letters in her hands, both the one where the new dame had boldly answered her last missive – one Furiae recognized she had sent in another outburst of hers – and the other, where the young dame reported the defeat at Mozyr. Just like Laraibina, she might have experienced hers…, thought Furiae, shaking her head. Captain Magnus stood by her side, as she read loudly both letters. “M’lady, you’ve been harsh on this dame on your letters. But she is brave, one must admit.” “Captain, there is a fine line between boldness and foolishness”, replied Furiae, for she would not easily cave in. She glared at the captain. “She mocked me in her letter, so…” The captain interrupted her, imposing his fatherly style, for he knew the you baroness would listen. “M’lady, she may not have done this intentionally, and even if she did, you’re a lady of the Autarchy, and a Marshal. You should not let yourself get involved in a petty dispute.” Under his inquisitive eyes, Furiae turned her face slightly to the side. “It is not that simple, Magnus. I will not lie, I have some mistrusts concerning her. I have received… concerning news that I might have been spied on...”, she paused briefly, uncertain if she should mention more of that. “And there is that different matter with Astrum… suddenly a new dame arrives, and I can only think she might be an Astrumese spy, even though I have no quarrels with that country.” The captain observed her with curiosity, for that was not the first time Furiae had displayed her paranoid tendencies. “Yet you’re going to assist her at Mozyr.” “I am going to offer support to the Lady of Mozyr, Viscountess Calypso Hwitt.” “Yet you’ve ordered the soldiers to prepare to march again as soon as you read this new dame suffered losses.” Furiae sighed. “Tol Goldora cannot let itself fall under the pressure of bickering nobles again. I have heard of the Times of Troubles during the Royal Duke Solomon Greybrook’s reign as Navarch… now they even changed the title to Autarch… it was not long ago, and I was but a child in the East Continent…”, she started getting lost, but then eyed the captain more intently, a serious expression coming to her youthful face. “She should be glad to have addressed me in that discourteous and disgraceful manner, and not some of the older nobles. I have been shrewd enough to know my place and not to make enemies so far, and look where this has led me, at my... age.", while she was glad to be youthful, she still felt insecure about what other people would say about someone so young as her displaying such titles. The captain Magnus Heidric nodded, but would not stop there. He and Furiae had grown to trust each other over the months, and he always tried to guide her lightly, as he was far more experienced and had served many ladies and lords during his lifetime, first as a professional soldier, than as a mercenary. “Yet you seem concerned about her.” “Yes, I have decided to give her the benefit of doubt concerning her behavior. I know and I can… separate the noble from the soldier, and while she displeased me with her ill-thought words, I would not let another noble of Tol Goldora be left alone in the field amongst those creatures…”. She thought back on her first mission as Marshal of the Gylden Expeditionary Legion, and how she always tried to convince herself that those sacrifice were necessary for her destined path of greatness. Still, the same question lingered in the darkness within. Am I responsible for the death of these men? Does my path lies across their graves? She rose up from the tree she had sat on. “Besides, I would never let a new dame bask in glory alone. Captain Magnus, bring me a scribe. I have a letter to dictate. And order the soldiers to prepare themselves, we cannot wait any longer. We resume our march immediately. Let us hope others are on their way and that we do not face the undead and monsters alone.”

Furiae de Haguns

Letter from Furiae de Haguns

(this letter comes in a thinly lined handwriting, it is readable, but clearly was written in haste by an expert scribe)

Dame Haide Osoro,

In your place, I would be cautious when speaking about stars, especially in Tol Goldora.

I shall enlighten you – there is a prevalent faith called Sanguis Astroism, and it is the official religion in Astrum. Since you state you have lost your memories – something I find highly doubtful, and which raises suspicions – you must know that not long ago, Astrum declared a War of Hatred against Tol Goldora.

Fortunately we are at peace now, but there is still a lingering hate amongst our peoples. I was not in Tol Goldora when that conflict erupted, but I have heard tales of it, and know the deep resentment some have with Astrum and their bloodstars.

I, for example, rule over Faithill and have to maintain a tenuous balance with my subjects, as they worship the Bloodstars, while I worship the Tidemother.

Now, to address your last insulting letter. One thing I am certain, you are a bold dame to say this of me. Either too bold or too foolish. But a very lucky one, because when I read your last letters, my mind was focused in coordinating with the other lords and knights an appropriate military response for the attacks in Mozyr, so I will let it go. For now.

Therefore, I shall only issue a mild warning. Dame Osoro, do not try me.

Now, on to more important and immediate matters. I am marching with the Thunderstorm Guard towards Mozyr and shall reach it at sunrise, if the Tidemother wills it, and I find no unforeseen circumstances that hold me back.

From what I know, the Vice-Marshal of the Golden Host, sir Lamidithous shall be arriving with his cavalry, as well as the knight Kal-El Itausson, with his own cavalry retinue. Dame Ivanka is coming with her Crimson Bows. We should swiftly destroy the enemies with this composition, if the Tidemother wills it.

Rally your men and prepare for the fight, do not return to Farrowfield. Stay at Mozyr. We will need infantry to secure the lines and protect the archers.

Do not apologize to me, I am not your commander. I command the Gylden Expeditionary Legion, while you are assigned to the Golden Host, under Marshal Antigone.

In fact, do not apologize.

It is not necessary.

You were the first to arrive at Mozyr, which reveals boldness and eagerness to defend the homeland. I commend you for that, dame of Golden Farrow. And I am sorry that you have had to engage the creatures alone. I know very well what it is to lose men one trusts. A retreat in this case was the honorable and sensible course of action.

It was not a failure. Men have died under my command, and more will die as well. We are fallible, after all. Learn from this experience and remember to call for support or wait for reinforcements if the odds are overwhelming against you.

Now, please, send me a battle report of what has happened, so I may plan myself for what is coming.

I hope to finally see you in the battlefield.

Yours truly, and carried by the winds,

Furiae de Haguns

Baroness of Faithill

Marshal of the Gylden Expeditionary Legion

Roleplay from Haide Osoro

Roleplay from Haide Osoro

(Personal message to Furiae de Haguns) Location: An orange tree grove in disarray, on the outskirts of Mozyr Haide can't speak to them. Or look at them. Or look at herself for that matter. She paces between rows of mangled orange trees. Clearly, the crops were recent victims to the growing monster problem in the region. Like her men. "Tonta!" Haide exclaims suddenly, swinging her boot into a rotting orange. The fruit explodes spectacularly—it does nothing to make her feel better. In her fist, she clenches the newest arrived letter from the Baroness Marshal Furiae. The parchment is completely crushed in her grip, though that has nothing to do with the contents of the letter—okay, little to do with the contents of the letter—and everything to do with the blood pounding in her ears, making her face burn and her hands shake. In an effort to prove she wasn't weak to Furiae and her newfound allies Golden Host, she had naively led her men on a suicide mission. The moment her Osos had clashed with the creatures, she knew she was outmatched. Horrific beasts had slashed their claws and gnashed their teeth and struck down Vincente and Alvaro in one sickening blow. Their blood had splattered Haide's face, and she had watched Eduardo charge forward, crying out and throwing a vengeful blow against the murderous creature three times his size. There was no chance of victory. "RETREAT!" she had bellowed. She musn't think about it. She can't. But she also can't stop. In the din of swords against thick skins and claws, a collection of memories had hit Haide like ice water. And suddenly, she was twelve again, being dragged through a burning seaside peasant village by a death-grip on her arm. "Tonta!" her father had screamed. Around them, her father's pirates looted, raided, and murdered, their cutlasses slicing indiscriminately. Moments before, the young Haide had found a family hiding in a barn she was meant to set aflame and had told them to run. Her father had seen. "Stop," Haide orders herself out loud. "Stop." ...If this is how getting her memories back is going to go, she would much rather not. In desperate need of a distraction, she swallows hard, sits down on the dirt, and smoothes out Furiae's letter. She reads it for the fourth time but only gets through the first few lines before thrusting a finger at the page indignantly. "Astrum!" she exclaims. "But you—you said stars! You said you were a star!" Her voice sounds embarrassingly whiny to her own ears. Haide continues to read and feels her face growing hotter and hotter with each line. "Dame Osoro, do not try me." Her stomach twists like rung out cloth. So shaken is she by her recent failure and subsequent memory that her usual bravado is gone. She knew she was pushing too hard with her letter—she knew it the moment she had written it. The moment she had thought it, even. But then she had sealed the letter and sent it on its way regardless, smug with her own fearlessness and disregard for authority. As she is wont to do. And somehow, that unrestraint had made her feel better about the ill-fated battle with monsters ahead. Should she ask for forgiveness? Immediately, some part of her screams in protest. Never. Never regret. She gets to the turning point in the letter, where her chastisement ends and talk of battle begins. At least here there is a clear course of action she can fixate on. Still, on the whole, the letter leaves her feeling like a child—scolded like a child, comforted like a child, because she behaved like a child—and the humiliation feels sticky in her bones. Tears of shame well up in her eyes. And now, she's crying like a child. Haide clambers to her feet and beats the dirt from her pants. She will have to return to camp and face her Osos in order to retrieve the battle report. And of course, she will have to write some sort of letter to accompany it. She sighs deeply, wipes the tears from her face, and composes herself. One thing is certain: she must never let Furiae know her weakness.

Haide Osoro

Flirting Letter from Haide Osoro

(this letter is better written than the previous, Haide having regained some composure)

Baroness Marshal Furiae,

Rest assured I hold no love in my heart for "bloodstars." The only instance in which stars—of blood or the regular sort—are of any use to me is in service of the sea, for the purposes of navigation. But even then, I almost certainly require the aid of a far greater number than whichever three those fanatics across the continent fancy.

Regardless, I thank you for your warning regarding the still-fresh wounds from Astrum.

As for your other warning, the one about not trying you—a wise man once said, "Do or do not, there is no try." Since I have not even the slightest intention of ever "doing" anything to against you, I will be sure not to "try" you, either. Unless you ask nicely first.

Currently, I am still rallying my Osos. We will stay put in Mozyr and await your and the Golden Host's arrival. It is good to know so many other units will be here shortly.

I took forward to meeting the force behind the quill in-person. May the Tidemother's winds guide us to victory, so that we may have just vengeance for my Osos and the residents of Tol Goldora who have suffered at the claws of these beasts.

-H

Flirting Letter from Furiae de Haguns

(this letter is written in the same penmanship of her scribe)

Dame Haide,

I think your memory problems might be persistent, as it seems you keep forgetting who you are addressing.

I am not one to "ask nicely", I do command. If I want something, I always get it. If I strive my mind to have something, I will always have it.

And by social rank, a lady always outranks a dame. Therefore, it is you that should ever mind of "asking nicely" to try anything.

I look forward to finally meeting you.

May the Tidemother protect you.

Stay out of harm's way.

Yours, and carried by the winds,

Furiae de Haguns

Baroness of Faithill

Marshal of the Gylden Expeditionary Legion

Roleplay from Furiae de Haguns

Roleplay from Furiae de Haguns

(Personal message to Haide Osoro) Furiae was now moody as she led the Thunderstorm Guard towards Mozyr. Sometimes she would even rush the horse a bit, forcing it to gallop far ahead the column of soldiers that marched, until she realized that the men were falling back behind. She looked anxiously towards them, feeling even a bit nervous, as if she was going to face her first battle again. Why can’t they go faster? The last raven had carried a letter which unsettled her slightly, causing a confusing mixture of feelings. This dame had so far only insulted her and acted in the worst way possible, yet she would not deny she had been deeply intrigued by her. The Marshal now regretted sending her latest letter in a haste, without waiting a bit to polish its content, in another outburst of hers. She had finished it with simply “yours”, and now felt ashamed. It had come naturally to her to say that, but how? She belonged to no one! And why did she insist on asking for the dame to keep herself safe? She was a knight after all, she could handle herself! Furiae felt ridiculous for her last letter, as if that young dame she had been not long ago had taken over the baroness’s and Marshal’s place she was now. Biting her lower lips lightly, the anxiety ran through her spine, both the thrill of the upcoming battle and of finally meeting this Dame of Golden Farrow called Haide Osoro. She would never admit it, but she was a bit terrified of this, after this last letter. She had left open an exposed flank, something a commander as her should never do in battle. “Thunderstorm, move faster! We have to reach Mozyr by sunrise!”, cried out Furiae.

Furiae de Haguns

Roleplay from Haide Osoro

Roleplay from Haide Osoro

(Personal message to Furiae de Haguns) Before the Meeting Taylor, the young aide assigned to whomever rules over the Stronghold Precinct estate, watches on in horror as Haide sets up her own bedroll and tent for the evening. She had insisted on doing it herself, as she had done the night previous, but still the twelve-year-old boy gapes and gawks in terror as though she is slaughtering his entire family in front of him. "Thank you, Taylor. You're dismissed." As she fumbles with the tentpoles and spartan canvas covering, she catches Taylor still staring at her, slack-jawed and feet glued in place. She stops, sighs exasperatedly, and flings her hand towards the rest of the Osos' camp a few rows over in the orange grove. "Aren't you tired?" "B-But Dame Osor—" "By the Tidemother, would you stop calling me that!" She hadn't meant to snap. But the title makes her uncomfortable in a way she can't explain. And for a reason she refuses to explore, she's been on edge since firing off her last letter to the Baroness Marshall Furiae. "Haide. Please." Taylor nods fervently. Haide softens. Truth be told, she has no want or need for an aide. She would fire him if she didn't think it would break his tiny, over-eager heart. "I'm good for the night. Promise." Finally, he leaves her with a curt bow. She rolls her eyes and climbs into the tent, settling onto the thin bedroll. It had been a day. Between her catastrophic failure with her Osos, her childish meltdown, and her scolding by the Baroness Marshal, she is exhausted. And if she had any hope at all of not humiliating herself again the following morning on the battlefield, she knows she'll need to get some rest. She hasn't been laying there for two minutes when she hears the patter of Taylor's feet as he sprints to her. "Da— Haide!" Haide groans, sits up, and pulls back the tent flap. "What, Taylor? I told you to go to bed—" "A raven!" The boy thrusts a tightly wound letter in her face. With a lurch of her stomach, she immediately recognizes the dragon seal pressed into the still-warm wax. Goddess's death, she curses to herself. This couldn't have been sent more than an hour ago. She accepts the letter gingerly, as though it will burst into flames. "Thank you. Now, sleep. I mean it." The boy scampers off and Haide retreats back inside her tent, eyes squinted at the dastardly thing. When she had fired off her last letter to the young Baroness Marshal, she had fully expected to have the last word before their first meeting on the battlefield. Apparently, that wouldn't be the case. Before she can work herself up anymore than she is already, Haide rips off the seal and unfurls the parchment. It takes mere seconds for Haide's eyes to flit over the brief, fiery contents of the letter. She blinks. Reads it again. And then again. Finally, she laughs. She doesn't know what else to do, so she laughs. "May the Tidemother protect you." May the Tidemother protect her, indeed! If monsters don't kill me tomorrow, this woman surely will. At first reading, Haide was certain she had erred greatly. But by the fifteenth, she isn't so sure. It's the final two lines that give her pause. "Stay out of harm's way." "Yours." "Yours," she repeats aloud, testing it on her tongue. Is she reading too much into this? Or was the Baroness Marshal reciprocating her caution-to-the-wind attempt to save face and patch up their rocky situation? Haide digs into her bag and pulls out the old letters from Furiae, each in their different, elucidating scripts (yes, she keeps them all). She scans them quickly, and—no, she is correct. None of them carried the same personal closing. Perhaps it did mean something? But what? The Baroness Marshall intrigues her. And terrifies her. Terrifies her more than she'd care to admit but for reasons she doesn't understand. From what she's heard, this woman isn't physically threatening. And yes, she carries certain political titles, but Haide is confident she could hold her own (or escape into the night, if need be.) So why, then, does the thought of seeing her tomorrow make Haide feel like moths have taken up permanent residence in her stomach? At first the haughty, prim, and proper way the Baroness Marshal writes had irritated Haide, irking her from the very opening of their first ever communication—Yes, it's me! The Baroness!—but once Haide had threw a few testing jabs her way, a new side of her had emerged. One with wit. With passion. With bite. One that betrayed the unchanging, unshakeable face she displays to the world. With an exaggerated exhale, Haide lowers herself onto her bedroll, repeating the contents of the letter over and over in her mind as though she could magically find some new hidden meaning or understanding in the words. Well, two things are certain, she thinks wryly. I'm not getting any sleep tonight, and tomorrow will definitely be interesting.

Haide Osoro

Letter from Haide Osoro

(this letter is a thin strip of parchment barely wider than the message itself and is written in Haide's slanted, unmistakable scrawl.)

As you wish, my lady.

-H

Roleplay from Haide Osoro

Roleplay from Haide Osoro

(Message sent to all nobles of Tol Goldora) Before the Meeting As predicted, Haide couldn't sleep. As her Osos Negros don their armor and polish their blades, Haide squints into the horizon, trying to make out the various troops as they arrive. The brilliant red banners with golden stripes are hard to miss. But Haide wasn't looking for those specifically. Of course. Her jaw clenches and suddenly she doesn't know what to do with her hands. She clasps them behind her back and resolves to stop fidgeting. Why did she allow Taylor to talk her into wearing the new armor? When she washed up on the beach of Golden Farrow, she'd been wearing layers of assorted scratchy black linens, the only splashes of color a deep forest green that was easily mistaken for black when doused in saltwater. Layers keep her comfortable. Make her feel secure. Now, here she is, unable to see the sea at all and wearing the lightweight boiled black leather of land fighters. The armor covers her torso, shoulders, and thighs, and beneath, she wears loose black linen pants laced tightly to her calves. Her arms remain bare. For the first time she can remember, she feels self-conscious of her many scars. Which is ridiculous. She's a warrior, she's meant to have scars. Goddess' death, she feels nauseous. It should be about the battle—it is about the battle—but those stupid, stupid letters keep popping back up in her mind. Why is she letting herself get so worked over them? Because you dug your own grave, you great oaf. Her mouth twisted into an irrepressible grin imagining the Baroness Marshal's face upon receiving her final letter in the night. She wasn't going to send it. Wasn't, wasn't, wasn't. And then she did. As it tends to go with her. Unable to stay still any longer, she tears her eyes away from the red banners and turns on her boot heel. Spring was meant to bring new beginnings, was it not? Regardless, it was time to face the music.

Haide Osoro

Roleplay from Furiae de Haguns

Roleplay from Furiae de Haguns

(Message sent to all nobles of Tol Goldora) Aftermath of the Battle of Mozyr Furiae had arrived in the nick of time for the Battle of Mozyr, and she could only watch in wonder as the two cavalry units, the Glory of Itau and the Heavy Dragoons rushed towards the horde of undead and monsters that were approaching at the command of Vice-Marshal von Hammersmark, striking a swift and hard blow against their enemies, while the rest of her archers and the Crimsom Bows supported the strike by picking on remnants of the first wave. As the battle ended, she was mounted atop Swifstar, dressed in boiled leather with a cuirass that carried the sigil of Tol Goldora engraved on it, her long hair braided and well hidden behind a helmet. A longbow was by her hand, and a quiver across her back. Save for the dragon red banners of her House, and the Marshal’s plumage in her helmet, she had no other distinction. There had been no time, as she had rushed towards Mozyr at full speed. She was still nervous about those letters that had been exchanged with this obnoxious Dame Haide, but the thrill of battle and the lack of injured amongst the nobles caused her to feel jubilant. Despite all this, she had exposed a flank when dealing with Haide, and this terrified her. She had made a rookie mistake, she now realized. “Captain”, she called for Magnus, and handed him her helmet. Her face was sweating lightly, as she still did not have the endurance to withstand long times in armor. “M’lady, this victory signals good winds for the beginning of spring. Elysia must be pleased…” “The Triumvirate is partially misguided, captain. It was the Tidemother’s will”, she replied. But growing up as a worshipper of the winds, she knew all too well what that meant. For Elysia was the symbol of enlightenment and truth, of self-discovery and curiosity. It was a struggle for Furiae to be open and honest at times, always hiding behind layers that kept her within the safety of her own domains. The darkness within, something she had developed all her life, even if it was invisible to her. The self-doubts, the paranoid outbursts she sometimes had, the pride that she displayed. She dismounted from the stallion, and two soldiers helped her take out the cuirass. “Set up a camp and rest, you have earned it”, ordered the girl-marshal, as she placed the longbow across her back. She then eyed the black and green banners across the field, and recognized them from the letters of Dame Osoro. “M’lady, where are you going?”, asked the captain Magnus Heidric, as he watched her stride there afoot, only in boiled leather armor and some weapons. “I… I want to meet this Dame”, she replied uncertainly, which concerned Magnus, for it was difficult to see Furiae as such. As she approached the camp of the Osos Negros, she stopped and said quietly to her escorts. “This is enough”, only for them to back away. A soldier approached her, and Furiae said in her usual commanding tone. “I am the baroness of Faithill, Furiae de Haguns. I have come to greet your dame, Haide Osoro, of Golden Farrow.”

Furiae de Haguns

Roleplay from Haide Osoro

Roleplay from Haide Osoro

(Message sent to all nobles of Tol Goldora) Aftermath of the Battle of Mozyr Haide and her men crouch by a creek near their camp, armor removed and splashing crystal clear water on themselves to wash away the sweat, blood, and muck of battle. Although the Osos didn't see much of any action themselves, witnessing the heavy Dragoons, the Glory of Itau, and the Crimson Bows mow down the beasts left them invigorated by proxy, reanimated after their defeat the previous morning: "—Then, WHACK! This soldier comes out of nowhere, knocks it right in it's ugly mug," Eduardo regales with wild hand movements. The other Osos lean in closer. Haide herself pretends not to listen, to be intently focused on scrubbing herself clean, but a smile creeps across her face. "AWOOOOOO, the beast howled, royally peeved," Eduardo continues without missing a beat. "It raised its gnarled, vicious claws and wound up to strike the rider down when THWAP, THWAP, THWAP! Three arrows straight to the chest!" With each THWAP!, Eduardo strikes the creek, accidentally splashing Haide with ice-cold water in the process. She gasps in surprise. Eduardo freezes in place immediately, and all the men go silent—even the bugs and the trickling of the creek seems to go silent—unsure of how Haide will react. At first, Haide steels her face with a deathly serious expression, letting him stew in his own mistake. Then, she thoughtfully cups her hand, dips it in the water, and flings a massive wave of water directly into Eduardo's face. Absolutely drenching him. His startled, high-pitched squeak is what finally breaks her composure, and she bursts into laughter. The other men join her, the tension broken. "Ohhhhh, you'll regret that," warns a sopping-wet Eduardo with a playful grin. He sends water back her way. Haide fires more at him. And then, a most dignified splash fight ensues. All the men join in, roaring with laughter as water flies. Haide is having the time of her life, feeling all her anxieties melt away as she watches her men behave like giddy teenagers. Such a change from the depression yesterday in the aftermath of her humiliating failure. She splashes like an expert and nimbly dodges retaliation just in time. But then, she sees Eduardo. She knows the intention in his eyes the moment he takes a step towards her. She thrusts a finger at him, "No!" she orders. "Don't." "Don't what?" Eduardo teases, drawing closer still. "Don't you daaaaaaaa—" Mid-sentence, Eduardo scoops Haide into his arms. "ALL HAIL OUR GREAT LEADER, THE DAME HAIDE OSORO!" he bellows as he tosses her into the creek with an almighty SPLASH! ...And of course, that's the moment Taylor finds Haide and her Osos. Howling with laughter, thigh-deep in a creek and neck-deep in a childish splash fight. "Haide! The Baroness of Faithill Furiae de Haguns has come to greet you!" the young aide announces, finally calling her by her preferred title-less name. Haide feels her heart lurch in her throat. She shoots upright and spits out a mouthful of water. "Tell her I'll, um, I'll be right there!" Haide calls back, sending Taylor scurrying off with a nod. Goddess death, goddess death, goddess death. Haide forces herself to her feet and wades out of the creek, flinging wet hair out of her face. She should've known this was coming. Who is she kidding, she did know this was coming. She just had chosen to live in denial like the oaf she is. As she hurriedly tugs on her boots, she wonders if there's still time to run. "Isn't the Baroness of Faithill the one you've been antagonizing this whole time?" Eduardo asks. Haide shoots him a glare, careful not to let her face betray her nerves. He holds his hands up innocently. "Keep an eye on the Osos for me," she commands as she stands, adjusting her sleeveless tunic. "Make sure nobody..... drowns." Bossing Eduardo around makes her feel a bit more in control, but no where near enough. As she strides back towards camp, Haide wrings what water she can out of her hair. She feels like she'll vomit. What do you care? Title or not, she's just some teenager. And it's not as though she can murder you in an open field. But then she comes up on the tents of her camp and sees her—the Baroness Marshal Furiae, in all her intimidating, arrogant, haughty glory. The young woman is tall and slender, with long black hair and fierce blue eyes that Haide can make out even from here. On her back is a most impressive longbow, and she still wears her armor from the battle this morning. In that moment, Haide understands some of the Baroness's confidence. ...But it is still annoying. Haide straightens, standing as tall as she can, and clasps her hands behind her back—those damn hands. She takes unhurried strides on her death march towards the Baroness and thanks the Tidemother for one of her most useful secret talents: keeping her appearance stoic when inside she is anything but. Inside, her brain frantically scrambles to figure out a battle strategy for handling this dreaded interaction. She scrapes together a plan just in time—finally, Furiae notices her. Haide internally screams, but externally gives a nearly imperceptible nod of the head. "You called for me, m'lady?"

Haide Osoro

Roleplay from Furiae de Haguns

Roleplay from Furiae de Haguns

(Message sent to all nobles of Tol Goldora) Aftermath of the Battle of Mozyr Furiae waited impatiently for Haide to arrive, quite anxious. She had to control her feet not to tap them on the ground in a rhythmic motion. Furiae was one who enjoyed the thrill of the hunt, as much as she enjoyed battle. And after opening a flank to Haide, she would not let her have the upper hand again. The Haguns girl observed Haide as she approached, her ocean deep eyes unblinking and moving from head to toe. She judges and studies Haide, as she is greeted with a “m’lady”, which unnerves her. Furiae shakes her head lightly, and starts to correct Haide’s pronounciation almost immediately. “My la…”, she stops, frowning. Furiae almost fell into a trap of those titles and styles of addressing nobles, though she outranked Haide. “Dame Haide, only commoners say ‘m’lady’ as you have said. The proper form is ‘my lady”, as you must know”, she points out, partially toying with the Dame, partially serious. Then, a smug smile of self-satisfaction crosses Furiae’s face as she realizes she towers over Haide, who is definitely shorter than her. She approached the dame slowly, her eyes looking down on her, as a lioness would with a prey. For the young Furiae, whose self-doubts always plagued her to the point of trying to find fault at anything and anyone as a way to compensate her own flaws, this was the Tidemother’s blessing. “By your bravado in those letters, I was expecting someone far taller.” She backs down slowly, but maintaining her haughty pose still, straightening her spine and sending her shoulders back as to impose herself. “And you are soaked in water. For someone so bold in your letters, I would expect to meet you soaked in blood! Were you bathing? I thought you liked getting your hands dirty, but are you cleaning them already, just after the battle?”, she teased the proud dame, her eyes lingering on her far longer than she would like to admit, a genuine smile coming naturally to her lips. Without waiting for a reply, Furiae advanced a few steps into the camp, and rose on her tip toes to have a better view of where that woman had come from. As she sees the nearby creek and the men of her retinue there, Furiae laughs genuinely, her eyes darting to Haide, a smirk on her face. “Or perhaps you were playing in the water, Dame Haide, just like a child?” With this last jab, Furiae wanted to try the young dame and see how fierce she was before her. It was one thing to be bold in letters, another one to be in person, she reckoned. And Furiae, though she would deny, was absolutely intrigued by the new Dame of Golden Farrow and her wild behavior.

Furiae de Haguns

Letter from Calypso Hwitt inviting them to stay at her estate

Baroness Furiae and Dame Haide

I want to thank you both as Viscountess of Mozyr for your generous defense of the region. May the Tidemother bless you both for your bravery! I shall pray for the souls of those lost.

I want you both to know that you are welcome to stay at my estate in the region. Please avail yourself of all the amenities it has to offer with my sincest thanks.

Sincerely,

Calypso Hwitt

Viscountess of Mozyr

Priestess of Church of the Tidemother

Roleplay from Haide Osoro

Roleplay from Haide Osoro

(Message sent to all nobles of Tol Goldora) Aftermath of the Battle of Mozyr The Baroness came for her in a flurry. That was expected. What was not expected, however, is the height disparity. That damned height disparity. Admittedly, the 'm'lady' mispronunciation was her own ignorance shining through. From the few memories she's managed to recover, Haide knows her father was a lord and pirate, strong emphasis on the latter. And nowhere in her recollections is even the slightest hint of something like "My. Lay. Dee." ever leaving his or any of his men's lips. Pirate ships, even ones run by former nobles, had an entirely different breed of rules. So, no. Haide didn't fumble m'lady on purpose. But she will certainly continue fumbling it on purpose for as long as it continues to unnerve the Baroness. "...Or perhaps you were playing in the water, Dame Haide, just like a child?” Furiae finishes scratching at her with a smirk. "Why, do you wish to join? It's bring your own toys, I'm afraid, but you're welcome to share," Haide quips with faux excitement, as though she is the most pleased in the world at the prospect of playing toys with the Baroness. She squints and feigns searching for something behind Furiae. "Now if we just can locate your servants, they can carry m'lady to the creek. The walk is awfully hard on the feet..." When the Baroness' aides fail to magically appear, Haide clucks her tongue and sticks out her bottom lip. "Shame. You know, never mind them, then—I'm sure you can do it! One foot in front of the other. And one!" With that, she spins in place, ready to demonstrate a march all the way to the creek and then.... and then.... and then only Tidemother knows "and then," because all of Haide's strategy for this situation is absolutely gone. Right out the window. Zwoop! Puffed up in the smoke that is her severe affliction of runaway mouth. And she hasn't the foggiest idea how to get out of it. Just as she's searching the tree line for covert escape routes, a shout interrupts them: "Haide!" Taylor calls from a distance. He waves a newly arrived letter in the air excitedly. Tidemother bless the boy. At first she gives the blessing in gratitude for Taylor's saving of her skin. But then, she nearly chokes on her own spit as she realizes what he's said. If "m'lady" irks the teenage Baroness then surely a first-name basis amongst aides will send her irate, and it would be entirely Haide's fault. Goddess' death. Immediately, she asks the Tidemother to please reroute the blessing from her skin to Taylor's, thank you. The twelve-year-old aide, soaked from the creek and utterly naive, runs clumsily to the two women. He skids to a stop and proffers a new letter, this one sealed with the stamp of a wolf that Haide knows belongs to Priestess Calypso. "A letter just arri—" he begins. Then his eyes bug slightly as he recognizes Haide's guest as another noble. He clears his throat and stands at near-attention. "It j-just arrived," he restates more firmly. "Thank you, Taylor." Haide takes the letter from him, ruffles his hair, and then gives his head a light shove back in the direction of the creek. Taylor is all-too-willing to take the hint and sprints off before the Baroness can respond. Haide casually strides between the boy and Furiae as she unrolls the letter with dramatic flourish. After she finishes absorbing its brief contents, she can't hold back a small laugh of disbelief. "Well," she says seriously, returning her hands behind her back before they can get in the way. "It seems we've both been invited to stay at Priestess Calypso's estate." Just as Furiae opens her mouth to respond, she quickly finishes, "I call the feather bed!" Out of the frying pan and into the fire.

Haide Osoro

Roleplay from Furiae de Haguns

Roleplay from Furiae de Haguns

(Message sent to all nobles of Tol Goldora) Aftermath of the Battle of Mozyr "Why, do you wish to join? It's bring your own toys, I'm afraid, but you're welcome to share…" Furiae was taken aback by Haide’s reply. She had expected the Dame to lose her composure one way or another, either asking pardon for enjoying in silliness, or lash out at her – only to give Furiae the satisfaction that she had been able to make Haide’s skin crawl. Yet, the dame had just replied in the same cheeky tone, subverting Furiae’s expectations. Involuntarily, the girl started laughing heartily at the joke as well as the dame’s other jests. What a scene she had witnessed! Despite her usual and proper manners, and even proud disposition, she loved the teasing and felt no embarrassment at all – as long as it did not happen in public. After all, one has to maintain her reputation. As she finished laughing, without paying attention to the dame’s confusion, a smile brightened up her mostly serene – sometimes scowling - face, and she was ready to reply to Haide’s jokes, just as she hears the boy calling the dame by her name. Furiae does not recognize him – she cannot recall every one that crosses her path, though she expects all to remember her -, but arches an eyebrow, judging in silence that familiarity. Yet, not to disrupt the merry mood that had taken over the place, and not to frighten him, she just nods as he states that a letter arrived. "The Viscountess of Mozyr is a delightful person. I will have my men help repair the buildings that were damaged by the monsters and undead in return for her kindness…”, she pauses, biting her lower lip before she continues. “I have always wished to visit Arkone Manor. Though, I have heard tales that locals say that there is another estate here at Mozyr called the “menagerie of the damned’. Are you not sure she wants you to stay there? I doubt there would be feather beds”, quipped Furiae, smiling. Before Haide could reply, Furiae went on. “Now that… that boy, is he your brother or something? You don’t seem to be at an age to have a bastard already. He looks like a commoner, you should not let him speak to you in that fashion, especially one so young, lest this commoner boy grows up defiantly, without knowing where he belongs, and that could really be harmful for him in the future”.

Furiae de Haguns

Roleplay from Haide Osoro

Roleplay from Haide Osoro

(Message sent to all nobles of Tol Goldora) 'Aftermath of the Battle of Mozyr Furiae's good-natured response to Haide's teasing catches her way more off guard than any amount of commanding, yelling, or exploding-not-otherwise-specified ever could. She feels her shoulders relax slightly. Perhaps she'd misjudged the Baroness Marshal in their correspondence. Or... perhaps she hadn't and this is just a ploy to get Haide to let her guard down. Regardless, it is oddly entertaining to get any sort of a reaction out of her and the conversation is putting her in good spirits, despite her determination to dislike the woman. "You don’t seem to be at an age to have a bastard already." "My bastard!" Haide exclaims, unable to help the incredulous snort of laughter. "Goddess, no! That would require a man, for which I have approximately no interest." She chuckles and shakes her head in amused disbelief. She strides to a small table where her Osos have rolled out a worn map of Tol Goldora and scout's report of Mozyr. Absent-mindedly, she finds herself making the tiny wooden statuette of a horse representing the Thunderstorm Guard gallop across the land. "A bastard..." she repeats as the horse's small wooden hooves climp-clomp across the table. "No, that's just Taylor. My aide. He's a good lad. Can behave a bit like a damned shadow at times, though." Wait, when did she release her hands from behind her back? See, this is why they can't be trusted out in the open. Finally, something else Furiae said makes its way from Haide's ears to her brain. She slams down the wooden horse and faces Furiae abruptly. "Wait—Menagerie of the Damned?! Are you serious?! That sounds.... absolutely thrilling. Do you truly think she would allow us to stay there? Do you think it's haunted?!" Haide can't contain her genuine excitement. Scary stories hold a dear place in her heart, and she's always wanted to see a ghost. "We absolutely must. Don't worry, I won't let them hurt you—and you don't even have to ask nicely first."

Haide Osoro

Letter from Furiae de Haguns

To the Viscountess of Mozyr, Thunderborn and Bearer of the Tidemother's Malachite Circlet

Lady Hwitt,

I wish to express you both mine, as well as Dame Haide Osoro's gratitude for your offer. I presume it is Arkone Manor?

In jest, I mentioned to the Dame Osoro that there is another estate called "Menagerie of the Damned". That could not be the estate referred in your letter? What lies in that estate? Locals told my soldiers that is currently unoccupied by any noble.

Yours truly, and carried by the winds,

Furiae de Haguns

Baroness of Faithill

Marshal of the Gylden Expeditionary Legion

Letter from Haide Osoro

(this letter is sent at the same time as the one from Furiae)

Priestess Calypso,

Thank you for your offer, it is very generous. And, I believe we may take you up on it!

I must ask: My Lady Furiae made mention that the Menagerie of the Damned is haunted. Is this true? Would it be alright if we stay there for the night?

Good tides and tidings,

-H

Letter from Calypso Hwitt

Baroness Furiae,

I am delighted to hear that you will staying in Mozyr for a time, and I regret that I am not there personally to entertain you given your brave actions and those of the Dame.

Arkone Manor is indeed my current residence, and it is there you will find a cellar well stocked with local wines, fone foods, and wonderful views. My Aide de Camp Captain Lanwin runs the household along with my former captain and dear friend, the Galecaller Xena.

As for the second estate, yes there is indeed an open estate in Mozyr, that is set aside for certain religious and secular studies. It was constructed by the Lady Edelyn and its purpose has been passed on to me, as a fellow Priestess of the Tidemother.

I must emphatically insist you do not go there. I cannot guarantee your safety if you do. Please understand that there are things that we the Priestesses of the Tidemother keep safe and not all evils are physical. That is all I can say on the matter.

Otherwise, I hope you enjoy your time in Mozyr, and hope to see you at the wedding! I will be attending with the Duke Aidan, and though we have not yet formally announced it, we are to be wed sometime in the near future. Something which I’m sure a lady of your grace will keep to herself.

Blessings of the Tidemother Follow You,

Calypso Hwitt

Viscountess of Mozyr

Priestess of Church of the Tidemother

Roleplay from Haide Osoro

Roleplay from Haide Osoro

(Message sent to all nobles of Tol Goldora) 'Aftermath of the Battle of Mozyr Haide continues to read the rest of Priestess Calypso's response regarding the Menagerie of the Damned aloud to Furiae: "...As for the second estate, it is currently unoccupied. I assure you that it is in no way haunted and emphatically insist you do not go there under any circumstances. I cannot guarantee your safety if you do." Haide gasps and looks up at Furiae, eyes twinkling. She resumes reading. "There are things we, the Priestesses of the Tidemother, keep safe and I must tell you that to seek into things beyond your understanding will bring you nothing but pain." Haide lowers the letter, child-like giddiness bubbling up on her face. It would be embarrassing if the news weren't so exciting. "There is NO chance it's 'not haunted.' Not haunted! She basically said, 'Yes, Haide, it's incredibly haunted, absolutely stuffed up to the brim with hauntings.' We MUST go."

Haide Osoro

Roleplay from Furiae de Haguns

Roleplay from Furiae de Haguns

(Message sent to all nobles of Tol Goldora) Aftermath of the Battle of Mozyr "My bastard!" Haide exclaims, unable to help the incredulous snort of laughter. "Goddess, no! That would require a man, for which I have approximately no interest”. Furiae laughed with her, and nodded lightly, her eyes examining Haide with more interest after what she had said. Then, she said in an affected one, “It is good to know… that he is not your bastard, I mean”, she added, not wanting to be so blunt. For Furiae, subtleness could be as much as a weapon and she felt that Haide had just opened up a flank in her defenses, as Furiae had earlier, in a letter just before the battle. After Haide’s antagonizing letters, it was war for her, and she was determined to win this match of wills. The baroness went towards the table and noticed the map with the statuettes, and was immediately interested in how they were displayed. Taking one in her hands, she examined it closely, and then left it where it was. Turning to Haide, she decided to tease once again. “Stop playing with your toys, and no, I would rather go to Arkone Manor, as I have to attend the Autarch’s wedding soon… you might have been invited as well…”, she pondered. However, as Haide insisted on going to this off-limit, absolutely forbidden and forsaken place, Furiae could not deny she had become intrigued by the content of the letter sent by Calypso. There must be something there, I am sure, something she is hiding…, thought Furiae, narrowing her eyes. The bearer of the Tidemother Malachite’s Circle had been with the Zuma, and suddenly the young baroness found her secrecy quite suspicious. Calypso lived to tell the tale, even coming back with a gift from the Daemon-Queen herself. Furiae was not paranoid, she thought. She was just suspicious, and very bold, and curious to a fault. “Very well, Dame Haide Osoro. We shall go to this so called ‘Menagerie of the Dead’, and you shall see it does not live up to its name”, replied Furiae, trying to take control of the situation. “But first we shall stop at Arkone Manor, Lady Hwitt’s own estate. I do need some rest. From there, we shall… leave for a ride at night, and then head to this ‘haunted’ place.” Though I wonder what lies hidden there…, she thought.

Furiae de Haguns