He had come only to meet a friend. That was all.
But that was when they seized him.

Larkin was the one to bind him—wrapping ferrum around the wrists of the old crusader, the old father, before dragging him through the streets and into the Imperial Palace. There, beneath marble columns and armed escorts, they spoke the charge:

Treason.
Treason against the Empire for the oaths he had given to Stirland.

There was no trial. No chance to plead. Only the long march to the block.

They forced the old man to his knees, pressing his neck toward the block as murmurs rippled through the crowd. Age weighed on him heavily, but dignity kept his spine straight. He knew the truth: they did this not for justice, but for their own vision of order—one that had no room for loyalty given elsewhere.

When they demanded his final words, he drew in a slow, steady breath.

“Let it be known I do not die in shame.
I have done no wrong, despite what they say.
I only regret that I could not see my son or daughter… at least one last time.”

A labored sigh escaped him as he closed his eyes.

The moment the last word left his lips, the guillotine fell.

In that fraction of a heartbeat before steel met flesh, Turtwin saw the totality of his life blaze before him
His years in the Crusaders, fighting so that the Empire, and other nations and there people could remain safe.
His brothers-in-arms—Sigismund, Demos, Trey, Great Man.
His son, Mikhail: the first moment he saw him… and the last.
The day he rode with the Empire’s cavalry into the jaws of the mountain, nearly dying for the cause he believed in.
The countless times he brought hope to the hopeless, playing and singing with his worn lute.
And lastly—Onion, the girl he considered his daughter in all but blood.

He felt no remorse.
No bitterness.
Only acceptance.

Turtwin Oakenstahl had lived a full life—a life worthy of remembrance.

(ooc)

more than a whole irl year playing turtwin, many events and many friends, thank you all for letting turtwin be a part of your life, both rp and irl.

thank you all

PK POST

FOREWORD/INTRODUCTION 

On this day, tragedy has befallen the County of Stirland. It was a peaceful noon when Simon Peter Rovare, the eldest son of Adonis Amyas Rovare, recently appointed Count, came rushing back to the boats with fear in his voice and tears in his eyes. In an alchemy accident, the boy bore witness to his father’s unfortunate death and reported it immediately. 

1. The Will

My Darling Wife, Konstanze, will receive items of personal value. I apologize I left you, but may my family continue to grant you the warmth I promised you so many years ago.

My Youngest Brother, Godfrey, will receive my titles and position as Count of Stirland. I pray you lead the charge far stronger than myself and our father. You and your wonderful wife, Eleanora, may also have my collection of alcohol.

My Eldest Son, Simon, will receive my favored blade, which has served me well for years through war. May it protect you, and remind you that your life is now yours.

My Youngest Son, Giovanni, will receive my second favored blade, a trophy that has sat on a shelf for many years. I won it in a jousting tournament, much to my own surprise to this day. May it protect you, and serve you well.

My Only Daughter, Margery, will also receive items of personal value, ones I hope are interesting to you. I pray you will live a happy life surrounded by the people you choose. 

My Closest Friend, Ser Aviel the Flamehound, will receive the spoils of war that I inherited—a single dulled blade, looted from one of the Goldenvine forces that attacked Alba back in Aevos. You will also receive a crate of mangoes. May you and Selyne get sick of mangoes after eating so many.

My Only Sister, Lucrezia, I am thankful for everything you have done for me. Through thick and thin, through the best and worst times, you were someone I could always count on. You led me through life when nobody else was there for me. I felt, sometimes, that you were the only one to understand me. I leave you, in true brotherly fashion, that one cursed doll created by housemagic that you got for me to help with medicine, for I know you despise them. It can be friends with the furby.

On The Charges of Bovicide, Burglary, and Criminal Damage

Issued by the

BARONET OF WALDENSTEIN

On the 7th of Harren’s Folley of the Year of 2043 I.T..

[!] A depiction of the dungeon in Castle Oakenwald that awaits. . .

 IT MUST BE KNOWN THAT AT LEAST ONE INDIVIDUAL IS WANTED BY THE COUNTY OF STIRLAND FOR THE CRIMES LISTED ABOVE. Although there is no description of the perpetrator available, they will have amassed a bountiful quantity of leather that was stripped from the cattle they had slaughtered, leaving behind the corpses to rot within the cattlepen where the bovicide took place and put the remaining cattle at risk of sickness. If there is any information regarding this bandit, the County of Stirland urges that it be sent to Ser Aviel Helfgott, lest they spread their havoc elsewhere.

A fifty mina reward to anyone who brings these criminals to the County of Stirland. Due punishment comes to those who break the sanctity of peace and law.

The Right Honorable, Holy Ser Peter Rovare,

Count of Stirland, Lord of the Stars, Knight of the Holy Grail, Head of House Rovare, Protector of the Salvian People and the Hamlet of Oakhaven

His Lordship, Ser Aviel Helfgott,

“The Flamehound”, Baronet of Waldenstein, Knight-Companion of the Order of the Stars, Oathman of the Order of the Oak, Patriarch of House Helfgott

Publicized on the 5th of Malin's Welcome of 2039 I.T.

by the Meridian Society: Domus Naturae et Culturae.

{!} Symbol of the Meridian Society.

Opening Word

It is without a doubt that, within Aevos, the role of healers are vast; between Shamans to doctors to aspiring herbalists, no healer will be the same. This is the same for their morals, and where one practitioner says no another may say yes. Ten self-proclaimed healers were interviewed, regardless of race, culture, or location, in favor of discovering one thing: is there a set of moral standards all healers abide by? The purpose of healing, the quality of healing, and the amount of pacifism one who devotes themselves to healing should have were all scrutinized for the sake of this discovery.

On the Purpose of Healing

The purpose for someone to learn how to navigate the living body and what it means for a healer to practice medicine is important, for without that, there would be no driving force behind these actions. Among all interviewed, there was a common theme despite vastly different answers, which was empathy. 

This would be strongly found in the sentiment of Morwenna, a nomad, who believes that “everyone has the right to be healed. No matter one's age, race, or creed - all are deserving of it." To her, healing is a right, and by no means a privilege—her ability to empathize with the sick and injured is admirable. 

Hirano Jiro, hailing from Koyo-Kuni, has a similar view. “Healing is about relief, it is to ease the anguish and suffering of our fellows,” he stated. In his eyes, healing is a mercy to give for those injured. Even those who do not have such a steadfast belief in mercy still believe in sensitivity. 

Einin Greye-O’Rourke, from Numendil, claimed she became a healer as it was her family’s legacy, and because there is “an awful lack of healers, especially in Numendil.” To pick up not just a skill, but a way of life, due its scarcity, as well as ancestry—to devote one’s life to healing others—is certainly a feat of empathy on its own. 

Malna Loa’chil, also from Koyo-Kuni, initially learned healing for herself, “a means of survival…[as she] always got hurt…it evolved into me caring for others.” Even she, who picked it up from necessity, had begun to continue that path for the sake of her empathy: healing those who are injured and could not heal themselves. 

Empathy is the most common driving force amongst those who dedicate themselves to the life of healing.

On the Quality of Healing

When presented with the question of what makes a healer quality, the results found to be far different than the answers of the first; primarily, two different results stemmed from the question—a far more practical answer of skill, and a far more emotional answer. 

There were a few who believe it is a matter of skill that makes a healer a good one, with Doctor Apricot, also known as Dr. A, from Alba in the Heart of the Empire of Man, said “there is nothing more important” and that kindness “won’t help in the end if you have no skill.” A sufficient and practical belief, as there truly is no use for passion without skill behind it. 

Vicnan Hawkins-Gylldene, hailing from no particular location, shared this view, claiming that “experience” was the most important, as “nothing beats hands on knowledge.” This implies that while one can read as many books or have as many fantasies as they like regarding healing, it is true that it is the experience that truly makes a healer. 

Hirano Hanako, of Koyo-Kuni, believes “a good physician knows when to act, and when not to…never perform something where the risk outweighs the benefit.” This, too, is a matter of skill, and comes with years of both experience and knowledge. As for the answers of the heart, indiscrimination and care for one’s patients is the most important matter. 

Gantar Lythian, of Arbor, claims “a good healer is one who can separate their personal beliefs to assist the wounded…if someone can be saved, they deserve the chance.” To heal without care who one’s patient is, be they friend or foe, big or small, is a show of care and personal belief that all those who save lives should have. 

Malna Loa’chil states that “if you truly do not want to help someone, what’s the point?” It is a healer’s duty to help those in need, and to do so without would be to go against one’s duties. 

There are a variety of answers to the question, it seems as though both are just as equal in importance, for there is no drive to learn without heart, and no heart put into the practice with just skill. 

On the Pacifism of Healers

Finally, the primary question that sparked the research: may a healer wield a weapon, and use it to harm? The answers given were far more cut and dry than the other questions, with a resounding yes from every interviewee, with certain conditions. 

“It is of benefit to none if…your potential patients…be slain by enemy, beast, or Yokai,” claimed Hirano Jiro. Defense, rather than senseless violence or slaughter, to protect one’s patients, is accepted. 

It is not just by him, either, as Morwenna claims the same, stating “to defend someone else… we as healers are meant to preserve life.” Once more, it is the protection and preservation of the innocent, injured, or ill that is brought forth. 

Gantar Lythian, echoes the sentiment with "everyone should know how to wield a blade, in defense of themselves and others.” A healer who is dead cannot use their skills to heal anymore, and it is important to defend oneself as well. 

The answer is yes, should it be in defense with a person’s best interests of health in mind.

Closing Word

The morality and duties of healers are vast. With a firm belief of caring for those in need, not turning one’s back to them, it is empathy that gives most healers purpose. Any good healer requires both skill and heart, as without both there is no substance to their practice. It is, also, one’s duty to wield a blade in defense of the innocent, injured, and ill, to preserve life, and to preserve one’s own. 

 Authored by, 

The Righting of Certain Wrongs

Issued by the

COUNT OF STIRLAND

On the 9th of The Grand Harvest of the year of 2031.

FOREWORD

 For many years, a lasting feud has existed between the various factions that arose from the demise of the Salvian nation, and the festering of this conflict has reached a point where it can no longer be tolerated.  In the interest of restoring peace, I, Ser Peter Rovare, have decided to reach out and begin making amends with those still standing, for the sake of peace and cooperation within the new Human Imperium, so that we all may move forward and serve the Emperor, rather than contributing to instability within his realm. 

1. On the Matter of Warrants

An Offering of Peace, and Leaving the Old Behind.  

✧ The standing execution order for Ultio Octavianus within the County of Stirland is hereby lifted.

✧ The full banishment of Ultio Octavianus is lifted.

✧ Ultio Octavianus shall henceforth have safe passage through Stirland and the Langkette Pass so long as he obeys the rule of law within those lands.

2. On the Matter of Titles 

The Dissolution of the Salvian State and the Recognition of its Protectors

✧ The Duchy of Antium shall henceforth be relinquished and dissolved.

✧ The title Lord of the Salvians shall henceforth be the Lord of the Stars, for the Salvian Nation no longer exists.
✧ The Titles of Salvo, Antium, and any other titles relating to the Salvian Nation are henceforth completely dissolved, never to be revived by any. 

✧ The title Protector of the Salvian People shall remain in the holding of Ser Peter Rovare and Signore Ultio Octavianus, for their contributions to the Salvian people and their continued safety in these trying times.

The Right Honorable, Holy Ser Peter Rovare,

Count of Stirland, Lord of the Stars, Knight of the Holy Grail, Patriarch of House Rovare, Protector of the Salvian People, and the Hamlet of Oakhaven

Issued by the

Count of Stirland

On the 13th of The Deep Cold of the year of 2038.

[!] The Approved Arms of the Barony of Siorbury.

To the Citizenry, Gentry, and Nobility of the County of Stirland,

 Let it be known that henceforth, Ser Caspian Aeval shall be raised to the status of the military nobility and granted the Barony of Siorbury. Alongside this, he shall be granted the land to construct a manor, which shall remain with his family in perpetuity should they remain in good standing. These rights shall remain with House Aeval so long as their obligations are met, until such a time as revocation, abdication, or some other circumstance that would render the title defunct. 

1. The Obligations of House Aeval

The Duties of the Nobility

✵ House Aeval shall pay a tax of 85 Tibers per week to the High Seat of Stirland, and any late payments without prior authorization shall be 120 Tibers. These taxes shall cover their manor and the Oaken Anvil which shall be incorporated into their demesne.

✵ House Aeval shall maintain an active presence within the County and its events.  

✵ House Aeval shall host at least one event every four years and sponsor at least one event per two years so long as they hold titlage. This obligation can be substituted by the payment of one hundred Tibers for a sponsored event and two hundred for a hosted event.

✵ In regards to the previous obligation, should House Aeval wish to maintain titlage, they will need to maintain at least equal ratios to event hosting and sponsorship to payment, or in a ratio in favor of event hosting and sponsorship,

✵ In times of war and/or turmoil, House Aeval is expected to maintain active service within the Order of the Oak, with the children of the house expected to serve as Pages to the Order with the expectation of Squirehood upon attaining proper age. 

2. The Privileges of House Aeval

The Rights of the Nobility 

✵ The Patriarch of House Aeval shall have the privilege of styling himself as Lord, in the manner of the Nobility, with the distinction being passed to any subsequent titleholders and their immediate male descendants. 

✵ The Matriarch of House Aeval shall have the privilege of styling herself as Lady, in the manner of the nobility, with the distinction being passed to any subsequent titleholders and their immediate female descendants.

✵ House Aeval may possess levies and retainers, who reside on their land, and their retinue may wear symbols of House Aeval, and bear the Aeval sigil upon their halberds. However, membership shall be capped to 3 retainers and 3 civilian levymen. The power to maintain a retinue does not include the privilege of Knighting, for there is only one font of honor within Stirland, being the High Seat of House Rovare.

✵ House Aeval may hire up to one servant, hired from the commoner or peasantry classes. 

✵ House Aeval shall be permitted to reside within their lands and manor, as well as set taxation rates within their lands, however, justice remains the right of the High Seat of Rovare.

✵ House Aeval shall be granted the right to petition and advise the seats of House Rovare, both High and Low, and request unfilled positions with preference, though not guaranteed.

✵ House Aeval shall be granted a seat upon the council of the Banners, with all obligations and privileges such a station entails. 

The Right Honorable, Holy Ser Peter Rovare,

Count of Stirland, Lord of the Stars, Knight of the Holy Grail, Head of House Rovare, Protector of the Salvian People, and the Hamlet of Oakhaven

The Honorable, Lord Adonis Rovare,

Viscount of Oakhaven, Baron of Austerone, and Low Seat of House Rovare

[!] Within your grasp would be a missive written on fine parchment. The faint scent of candle wax would permeate your senses.

A NAUTICAL NAMESDAY

Penned by THE TIDAL BANNER OF HELFGOTT on the 16TH of HOREN’S CALLING, in the Year of Our LORD, 2037 I.T.

▪────༺ ☨ ༻────▪

GREAT BENEDICTIONS TO ALL,

Our House, THE TIDAL BANNER OF HELFGOTT, invites you to celebrate the momentous eighteenth namesday of young AVIEL ROY HELFGOTT, there shall be food, drink, and all forms of merriment!

The celebration will be taking place within the Village of Stirland, meeting up within its square.

There shall be three events, those being:

The Log Game

Everyone likes to beat each other up from time-to-time, right? Then look no further than the Log Game! Two persons shall stand atop either end of an oaken log with padded bats, the last man standing wins.

This will be a tournament-style game with a Winners’ and Losers’ bracket, the prize will be one-hundred [100] mina!

The Shanty-Singing Contest

Prepare your singing voice for the Shanty-Singing Contest! Music has long been part of the Helfgott identity and still sings true to this day! 

The catchiest shanty of the night will be the winner, having their song written down in the annals of history and publicized, the others will be sent to Davy Jones’ locker! 

Feel free to dance, step, and/or clap to the rhythms of our participants!

The Helfgott Treasure Hunt

Long has the dreams of bountiful loot been in the minds of the members of our family, so it shall continue! A box with treasure will be hidden within the borders of Stirland and the first one to reach the treasure wins, keeping their findings as a prize!

INVITATIONS

Invitations to this once-in-a-lifetime event shall be sent out to:

His Imperial Majesty, Tiberius I Horen, Emperor of Man, and his imperial pedigree ( @Tide1 )

His Princely Highness, Erwin I Barclay, Prince in Reinmar and Lord Vandalore, and his royal pedigree ( @Timer )

The Right Honorable, Holy Ser Peter Rovare, Count of Stirland, and his noble pedigree ( @Based1Salmon )

The Right Honorable, Elis d’Amaury-Berkhoven, Countess of Rhoswood, and her noble pedigree ( @Frisket )

His Eminence, Cardinal Nerium of Idunia, and his pious pedigree ( @Onnensr )

His Imperial Excellency, Manfred von Berkhoven, Imperial Lord Marshal, and his esteemed pedigree ( @Irishmanmichael )

His Lordship, Clemens Aldersburg, Lord Marshal of the Prince’s Army, and his esteemed pedigree ( @SpAwNfreak )

His Lordship, Xavier Adiler, Chaptermaster of the Flamekeepers, and his esteemed pedigree ( @Bird5k )

Elector-Members of the Waldenic Diet and their royal, noble, and pious pedigrees

The Citizenry of Stirland

The Citizenry of the Empire of Man

The Citizenry of the Kingdom of Idunia

All Waldenian families

Personal Invitations go out to:

Her Ladyship, Lady Lucrezia Rovare ( @tadabug2000 )

His Lordship, Lord Adonis Rovare ( @clearlynoko )

His Lordship, Lord Elis Rovare ( @Dinochad )

Miss Luthién ( @UniBearse )

Miss Blanche ( @minarichankun )

Miss Esther ( @bumblefina )

Miss Delilah ( @Kitomine )

Mister Leon ( @Sweetyceltic )

Mister Gedeon ( @blesseuropa )

Mister Ivan ( @Nen )

Fellow Choristers of the Bene Lisse Choir

▪────༺ ☨ ༻────▪

CLOSING PRAYER

GREATEST OF COUNCILORS, OUR PERFECT SHEPARD, we come to you in prayer that this young son of YOURS may be guided by the light of YOUR White Flame, FATHER GOD. Bathe young Aviel in YOUR wisdom and let YOUR endless love flow through him as he grows and helps direct the lost lambs of Man back to YOUR loving embrace.

SAINT HUMBERT, pray for us, let the LORD ALMIGHTY anoint young Aviel with perseverance in all things. Let this young lamb of GOD denounce and defy all evils that may come his way.

SAINT THOMAS, pray for us, pour into young Aviel the lesson brought by discipline and living amidst the frontierlands of this newborn Empire.

SAINT ARCHANGEL MICHAEL, pray for us, pour into young Aviel the courage-flame of our ALMIGHTY CREATOR. Let his soul burn brightly in the eyes of our LORD, our KING OF KINGS.

It is in HIS Blessed and Holy Name that we pray:

AMEN!

MIT GOTT ALS MEIN ANKER,

Arthur Helfgott

By Faith in GOD, Guard of Altamirano and Jorenus,

Patriarch of House Helfgott

Aviel Roy Helfgott

By Faith in GOD, “The Flamehound,” Jester of Stirland, Squire of the Order of the Stars,

Oathman of the Order of the Oak, Heir of House Helfgott

On charges of High Blasphemy, Assault against the ever Holy and Almighty G-D, and Terrorism.

Issued by the

Count of Stirland

On the 16th of Sun’s Smile of the year of 2037

[!] The Gallows that awaits

 FOLLOWING THE HORRID VANDALISM OF THE STIRLAND CHURCH, AND THE LACK OF APPARENT SUSPECT, THE EVERFAITHFUL HOLY SER PETER ROVARE HAS ISSUED A CALL TO HUNT. The Church of Saint Andrik of Vydra within the village of Stirland has been found ravaged by an unknown force, with even the holy confessional and baptismal desecrated by these rabid heathens. It is with this, that the Lord of the Lands, Holy Ser Peter Rovare issues a call to hunt down this criminal, and a reward of 100 Minas to any who can bring this vile villain with either incriminating evidence or a confession. Note any who bring forth innocent folks and are found to have done so will be turned away in shame, for diverting from the hunt of the real monster.

Those who wish may have the first blow as well, for upon satisfactory proof of belief this villain will begin a painful atonement and execution under Eicheric Law. This matter will also soon be brought to the Imperial Crown and Holy Mother Church for their justice as well.

His Lordship, Peter Rovare,

Count of Stirland, Viscount of Haldeberg, Baron of the Oakenwald, Lord of the Starts, Banneret of the Holy Grail, High Seat of House Rovare, Patron of the Oakenwald Steakhouse, Protector of the Salvian People and the Hamlet of Oakhaven

On charges of Banditry, Armed Robbery, and Assault of a member of the Order of the Oak

Issued by the

Master Sergeant of the Order of the Oak

On the 16th of Sun’s Smile of the year of 2037

[!] The Gallows that awaits

 IT MUST BE KNOWN THAT TWO INDIVIDUALS ARE WANTED BY THE COUNTY OF STIRLAND FOR THE CRIMES LISTED ABOVE. They are said to have sported full black plate and wore a red cape adornment on their back. There is no further information about these two individuals. If there is any information regarding these bandits, the County of Stirland urges that it be sent to Ser Caspian Aeval, lest they spread their havoc elsewhere.

A fifty mina reward to anyone who brings these criminals to the County of Stirland. Due punishment comes to those who break the sanctity of peace and law.

His Lordship, Peter Rovare,

Count of Stirland, Viscount of Haldeberg, Baron of the Oakenwald, Lord of the Stars, Banneret of the Holy Grail, High Seat of House Rovare, Patron of the Oakenwald Steakhouse, Protector of the Salvian People and the Hamlet of Oakhaven

His Lordship, Ser Caspian Aeval,

“The Just”, Baron of Siorbury, Knight Companion of the Stars, Master Sergeant of the Order of the Oak, Patriarch of House Aeval

[!] This is a POV post, only to show character development and is not known in roleplay unless explicitly told or you were there.

[!] The Candles. 

 Gold were the first 2 candles the Rovare saw before him, and one of Black.

One had found him when he still loved the world, and had given him a Rose.

One had found him in time to make him hate the world, and had made the rose wilt away. 

One had found him with the bitter taste of regret, and left as soon as they came.

The aging lord sat in his study, surrounded by relics, reminders, and regrets. As he wrote a cast aside parchment detailed a failed letter to the rose that would become the fourth candle should lady luck grow jealous once more. Was 3 enough? Or would the cold overtaking the world overtake him as well? Or would his daughter?

A rose of gold, stained red by the broken glass. 

The ground rumbled, shaking the very foundations of the Castle Oakenwald - the strained chains of a delicate crystal chandelier snapping taut, a roaring whistle sounding as it came hurtling down from above.

Crash, crack, splinter.

The table broke into pieces, crystal and wood having flown out. His daughter, the first thought, as he dove across the table, he sheltered this girl but he could not shelter the first, both with hair of spun gold and eyes like his. 

The rose of gold, still yet to bloom, sheltered his son, his heir, the child not yet ready for the sad lessons his father had to teach. As she sheltered his son, the lord sheltered his daughter, he felt like the scribe once more. 

She cried as her brother bandaged the wounds, and he held the daughter he could still hold. But he would never forget the one he had lost. All the while, the rose stood to the side. 

Blue were the next candles, still of 3, and as the Lord beheld them his felt as the Scribe once again, for what was the power of the Lord if they could do naught, but read.

The First, was dry, smelling of parchment, and the tears of regret. The death of a son who never bore his name, who had left, but had never come home. And so the Scribe said to the Lord, where is my Son, Lord?

The Second, was new, smelling of spring blossoms, that would never see summer. The death that came not as a surprise, but as a crushing of hope. The Sins of the Father, the Burden of the Son. For the Father came the arrow and for the Son the sword. The Scribe could save neither, and the Lord had built the pyre.

The Third, was cold, smelling of steel, and the blood that stained it. Neither Scribe nor Lord presided over this judgement, for the Soldier was responsible for this judgement, but the Lord was not free of blame. This candle was neither the Sins of Father, nor Son, but of Pride, and the Burden of Duty, which weighed as a mountain. 

And then sometime more later, the Scribe sat covered in the blood of patients, his daughter, a stranger, a son, and others beyond count. Arrows and glass tore skin all the same, and blood stained the Scribe’s hands, who drank until the Lord bore the weight once more. 

A Summons?

A Condemnation?

A Missive. 

A Piece of Parchment. Though 3 Candles stood on his desk, accusing him, demanding his notice.
A Piece of Parchment. Condemned his family to the life he once led. 

A Piece of Parchment. The Soldier grinned, the Scribe wept, and the Lord was silent. 

Silver were the last candles, of 3, as bad things always came in 3’s. The Scribe wrote, the Soldier cackled, and the Lord wondered if the next set of 3 would be pyres. 

His sons of 3 called to war. He worried for Elias, not for his death, but for the Soldier driving him to the life of the Father. He worried for Lucien, who despite his name was to live the life of the Scribe. He wept for Adonis, who in his heart was the Scribe, but he must be broken into the Lord, lest he be swept up under the tide of what was to come. 

Peter Grayson Rovare sat in his chair. Surrounded by relics of his past. Regret seeping into his bones. A Reminder of his family’s fate, in ink before him. His heart was broken as he uttered words, but his voice rooted in Oak, “let not my sons suffer my fate…”

[!] This is a POV post, only to show character development and is not known in roleplay unless explicitly told or you were there.

[!] A young boy’s hands, covered in blood.

 The events of the morning had not phased him much. Truth be told, he had figured his sister Lucrezia had found a gaggle of women to bring for high tea, as very like her. He took part for pleasantry, wanting to get back to his notes for his thesis and his studies in alchemy. The young Lord Adonis disdained social interaction, but had long since come to the realization it was necessary.

So, he played along. He smiled, greeted, spoke pleasantries. Adonis felt a bit more relieved when his father had entered the room, for he was a far more kindred spirit than the talks of tea typically let on. 

The tea in his cup trembled, and Adonis had taken curious notice before he was sent forward into the table. His heart dropped to his stomach, and he immediately scrambled out of his seat, taking cover. One of the women sheltered him. The strange woman he hadn’t thought much of before.

Crash, crack, splinter.

Then, the chandelier came crashing down. 

Adonis screamed, though he wasn’t sure it was heard over the loud shattering of the table. Glass and wood splinters and other debris flew out, and he was lucky to be unharmed. When he lifted his head, Adonis made way straight to his father and Lucrezia, who held each other tightly. It was his father who noticed his sister’s injuries first. Adonis tended to them with a bit of a smile.

That was the first time he had ever practiced medicine, rather than just reading about it.

The trip to Alba was intended to be a brief one, to scout the remnants of the battle they’d heard of. He had heard his father utter those words, too. Beloved. His beloved. A ghost of a word meant for a woman young Adonis had never met. The woman who died shortly after his birth.

A dwarf came rushing in, calling for a medic for his orc friend. Adonis had rushed over with his father and assisted with the removing of the arrow and the spear that pierced his skin. He hadn’t the slightest clue how necessary that moment of training would be.

Or how soon. Imperial Guards came rushing through Alba, the stench of blood and sweat and metal wafting through the air alongside the cries and groans of injured men. Adonis was the first on board, calling for the injured to make their way to the clinic. He’d removed an arrow from Miss Esther, and helped bring in Ser Honeywine to be treated. Adonis was not the most experienced of doctors, but he did what he could, and let the experts treat the rest.

What truly weighed on his mind was later that night. He was writing his thesis for the Choir of Bene Lissë in the Oakenwald Steakhouse’s private room—for his home had a chandelier crashed into it—and had interviewed plenty enough people to at least start the structure. It was a simple question of morality that he intended to open to discussion.

Could a healer wield a blade, with the intent to harm or kill?

Could they?

Adonis had no clue. He’d dedicated himself to training the blade as of late, to protect his sister from the plagues of evil. When he’d received the missive from a barmaid, he wondered if the question mattered. 

He was off to war in a few months, alongside his brothers. God had always intended him to fight, whether the question was true or not. Whether it was his duty as heir, as the eldest brother, or not. Not just war against man, either, but war against nature itself. How could he possibly fight a mountain, as the whispers he’d heard? Adonis was no Gedeon, no Peter Rovare, no soldier. Adonis was a scholar and a healer, who wielded the blade out of duty and obligation.

What did morality matter when the world forced everyone to fight anyway? 

Perhaps that was the question that needed to be answered. It was a shame he’d already started his current thesis.

[!] This is a POV post, only to show character development and is not known in roleplay unless explicitly told or you were there.

[!] A depiction of a chandelier mid-fall.

 Strange was the first word to cross the Rovare’s mind. 

Who was this strange woman sitting within her father’s keep? 

Who was she to host tea?

To call her ‘Dear’? 

The young Lady sat, and she played, all smiles and hidden thoughts. More joined the party soon enough, a boy with grimy fingers offering a flower. Her brother arrived alongside the Imperial Squire, Gedeon. Soon, even, her father came to join. It was all so very strange. The woman’s tea-mates made their departure, after some more simple conversation. Gedeon left to patrol. 

There was then four. 

The ground rumbled, shaking the very foundations of the Castle Oakenwald - the strained chains of a delicate crystal chandelier snapping taut, a roaring whistle sounding as it came hurtling down from above.

Crash, crack, splinter.

The table broke into pieces, crystal and wood having flown out. Her father, where had he come from?- he shielded her, hovered over the girl. In spite of such, crystal embedded into her leg, blood flowing free.

Her vision swam, heart thudding in her throat as she was lifted into her father’s arms, brought to a cushioned seat upon the Oakenwald throne. Something simple, wooden, for those few times a County court may be held.

Adonis, he knelt before her, his book-learned medicine used to practice on his unwitting sister. Her father, he held her, even as she wailed - pain relief foregone, whether due to inexperience or no time.

Beloved was the first word to cross the Rovare’s mind. An altercation like any other, some hours later as she held onto the crook of her brother’s arm, using him as a crutch. That strange woman was there again, but this time, she stood by Lucrezia’s father. He argued for her. For his beloved. 

Just who was this woman?

That word echoed, a softened whisper between her brother and herself, “Beloved?” “Did he say beloved?”

And then sometime more later, Adonis now soaked in the blood of patients, learning on the fast-track this Saint’s day - that discussion continued. 

Who was she?

Had their father found himself a new wife? 

Why would he not tell them?

Memories, known to only four in life, two of them dead, would assail the young Lady. A first memory, the one she held when youngest. The girl that stood before her was all of sixteen, and looked so much like her father. Blonde hair, blue eyes, even his nose. Lucrezia stood beside her mother, the tot swaying in the cliff breeze, attached at her mother’s legs. It was the news, though, of Rosalind that set her off. All it took was a push, little hands pressing out against the elder girl's legs, until she stumbled back and fell over the cliff.

“I am my Papa’s one and only daughter,” The lie burned on her tongue, each time it was uttered, though it grew easier - smoother with time.

Her gaze tracked to the young boy who followed shortly after his mother, that strange woman, and could not help but to wonder.

Brothers was the first word to cross the Rovare’s mind. The Imperial Edict had been delivered, and it was clear her brothers would be sent to war.  Adonis, the scholarly boy of which his beret falls into his eyes. Elias, who only just returned to them, seeking glory. Lucien, mischievous and often finding play.

Her current crutch, a Page of the Bluecloaks and her friend, Aviel read the Edict over her shoulder. His eyes had widened, terrified, words a stutter for he was called to war against a continent. 

Lucrezia Rovares legs crumpled beneath her, holding onto that Edict like a life-line, a cry on the girl's lips. “Oh, my brothers..”

A CREATURE IN THE NIGHT

Issued by the

COUNTY OF STIRLAND

On the 7th of Sun’s Smile of the year of 2033.

[!] A depiction of the Stirland farms.

INTRODUCTION 

 WITH the continued growth of the recently finished construction of the Stirland village, the crops planted had begun to flourish. The boons of such did not last long, for soon reports came to the Order of the Oak of the destruction of crops and nearby trees. Tracks of something, or multiple somethings large, The nearby farm homes have broken pillars and wagons, damage yet to be repaired until this predator could be found.

1. Clustered Fields

Destruction 

THE Stirland fields have seen destruction, the crops having been destroyed by some form of creature. Said to only come out in the night, the description ranges wildly, the Smallfolks claims of metal beasts morphing to exclamations of rabid wolves. What exactly is plaguing the fields is unknown, but soon to be rooted out.

2. The Night Harvest 

Down With the Predator 

THOSE of the Order of the Oak of the County of Stirland, alongside allies are welcome to take part in the destruction of these unknown creatures in the coming Saints days. Until then, it is forewarned to be careful amongst the fields and to have someone to watch your back at all times.

The Right Honorable, Holy Ser Peter Rovare,

Count of Stirland, Lord of the Stars, Knight of the Holy Grail, Head of House Rovare, Protector of the Salvian People and the Hamlet of Oakhaven

Her Ladyship, Lucrezia Isavelle Rovare,

Lady of Oakhaven

A boxing competition held in Stirland

Issued by the

Master Sergeant of the Order of the Oak

On the 20th of The First Seed of the year of 2031.

[!] An artistic interpretation of the events that may follow.

FOREWORD/INTRODUCTION 

The County of Stirland is hosting a boxing competition in the village, and all are encouraged to come and fight. Participants will be expected to fight unarmored with their fists, until knockout or yield. There will be fights in pairs in a tournament style bracket, and the winner of the competition will be awarded a sum of 250 mina, and free drinks at the Oakenwald Steakhouse up to 25 mina.

The Right Honorable, Holy Ser Peter Rovare,

Count of Stirland, Lord of the Stars, Knight of the Holy Grail, Head of House Rovare, Protector of the Salvian People and the Hamlet of Oakhaven

Ser Caspian,

Master Sergeant of the Order of the Oak, Knight Companion of the Stars

A VILLAGE CELEBRATION

Issued by the

COUNTY OF STIRLAND

On the 5th of the Amber’s Cold of the year of 2032

[!] A depiction of the village dance.

FOREWORD

 IT is with the completion of the village of Stirland that an invitation is extended towards the Empire and its allies to take a day to visit, dance and celebrate. The crops have come to flourish, the tavern filled with laughter and homes filled with those seeking out their paths. It is by GOD’s grace of which we can have such celebrations, allowing for a time of joy and revelry.

1. The Village Dance

The Rheinländer 

The start of the festival is seen with a dance, a contest of balance and agility, as those compete to be the last one standing in the Waldenic dance of the Rheinländer. Traditionally a folk dance formed in a circle, it consists of quick hops and turns. 

2. Dress to Impress 

Who Will You Impress? 

As the dance comes to an end, and the winner is announced, those wishing to showcase their garments are called forth. Given a chance to showcase themselves for the crowd, a vote is taken afterward to name the best dressed there!

3. The Oakenwald Steakhouse

Drink and do Not Stop  

For the final portion of the evening, join those gathered at the Oakenwald Steakhouse for a drinking contest. Take round after round from our resident tavernkeep, until you drop or soar to the top.

[Saturday the 14th, 6pm EST - Empire of Man, Stirland

2647, 2, -61]

The Right Honorable, Holy Ser Peter Rovare,

Count of Stirland, Lord of the Salvians, Knight of the Holy Grail, Duke of Antium, Head of House Rovare, Lord Protector of the Salvian People and the Hamlet of Oakhaven

Her Ladyship, Lucrezia Isavella Rovare,

Lady of Oakhaven

A Retelling of the Battle of the Vineyard.

Issued by the

Master Sergeant of the Order of the Oak

On the 12th of Sun’s Smile of the year of 2032.

[!] The brave Initiate Harlow firing his bow at the beast.

FOREWORD/INTRODUCTION 

A firsthand account by Caspian, Master Sergeant of the Order of the Oak, of he and his men bravely fighting off the trolls plaguing the vineyards of Stirland, with the help of courageous volunteers. This was transcribed by another’s hand, as at the time the story was told Caspian was unable to write for himself, injuries so severe. Despite his drug-addled mind, every factual statement within this retelling is true, according to the witnesses who confirmed his story.

1. The Element of Surprise

Creeping Upon the Beasts

Master Sergeant Caspian and his men, Initiate Turtwin and Initiate Harlow, and the volunteers, Victor and an unnamed Goblin, stuck low to the ground as they advanced up the vineyard. A scared sheep’s cry rang through the mountainside, the trolls having trapped it for their own selfish whims. Caspian gave the men firm directions, to which they followed. Young Harlow kept to his horse, firing at a distance with his bow. The Goblin snuck up into the vineyard, throwing fire at the trolls, who were so simple in their fear. Caspian, Turtwin, and Victor quickly took the distraction for their advantage.

2. The Heat of Battle

Cutting Through Their Ranks

Arrows flew and fire burned. The trolls hide deflected the arrows, coarse and leathery they are, and as fire burned the trolls fearfully investigated its source. Caspian and Harlow took the chance, Harlow choosing melee once the bow had proven ineffective, and with flame-oiled halberds the two assaulted the most distracted one. 

The flame of the two soldiers caught the biggest, tallest one’s attention, surely their leader, and logs were thrown down the path of the men. Young Harlow had fallen from his horse, may the poor creature rest well in its death, but remained otherwise unscathed. As had Caspian, who jumped out of the way.

Their leader, the monster it was, targeted the Initiate, picking up the boy in his fear. Caspian charged forward, swinging down on the hand that carried the boy. Turtwin threw chained bola at its feet at the same time. Harlow was dropped, but at his demise—the leader began to fall at the weight wrapped around his legs and Caspian’s swing. There were mere moments to act before the young Initiate Harlow, no older than seventeen, was crushed to death.

3. The Act of Sacrifice

A Sunny End to the Tale 

The accounts from here on begin to be far more personal, rather than a continued retelling of the events. Some parts have been sourced from other witnesses.

What convinces a man to die for another? 

Caspian’s blood ran hot at this moment, his heartbeat pounding so loud that his ears rang. The boy mere feet ahead of him, terrified and frozen in his fear, was surely about to die. Without a thought, Caspian had grabbed Harlow and pushed him away from the coming danger, trading their places—and for a moment, Caspian was convinced he was trading their lives.

All Caspian could remember from this moment on was praying, begging for his life to be spared, and his thoughts of his loved ones—Ophelia Aeval, his beautiful fiance, of Harlow, hoping the boy’s life would be spared, of Captain Alexander Arrcado, and surely more. 

God answered his prayers, as he lives, thanks to the quick actions of Turtwin, who had pulled Caspian from underneath the thrashing troll with nothing more than a crushed leg and broken rib to spare for his life.

As the morning sun rose, it was described by the rest of the witnesses that the trolls had turned to stone. 

With that, it was declared: the Battle of the Vineyard was victorious for the Stirlandic people.

Caspian,

Master Sergeant of the Order of the Oak

GRAPE DESTRUCTION

Issued by the

COUNTY OF STIRLAND

On the 10th of Snow's Maiden of the year of 2031.

[!] A depiction of the Stirland vineyard and its tenants.

FOREWORD 

 The Lady Rovare’s breaths puffed out in front of her, pulse frantic as she raced up the steps to her family’s keep. The veil of her hennin flew behind her, and this certainly had to be the fastest she had ever run. Palms fell over her rapidly beating heart upon entry through the gates, searching for her father and it was there she saw him. And so she relayed the horrid sight she came upon within their beloved vineyards.

1. When Giants Roam

A TORRID TAKEOVER 

Creatures of immense stature roamed the Counties vineyards, speaking with spittle flying in guttural common. They dredge along, having ransacked the fruits of the tenants labor and broken through wooden doors. Colossal, they have begun to grow bored, thundering steps sounding as they explore the portion of land of which they trespassed.

They growl and shout, and fight even one another, constantly in a fight to be on top. Their stench emanates downwind, these creatures, Trolls needing to be taken down. 

2. THE BLUECLOAKS 

TAKE THE VINEYARD BACK 

A call to the Bluecloaks of Stirland and allies alike is put forth, to put down these wayward giants and take back the vineyard of our beloved lands. These creatures are a danger if allowed to persist and must be eradicated swiftly before they expand further into our home.

The Right Honorable, Holy Ser Peter Rovare,

Count of Stirland, Lord of the Salvians, Knight of the Holy Grail, Duke of Antium, Head of House Rovare, Lord Protector of the Salvian People and the Hamlet of Oakhaven

Her Ladyship, Lucrezia Rovare,

Lady of Oakhaven

[!] Within your grasp would be a missive written on papyrus parchment. The faint scent of candle wax would permeate your nostrils.

TO the peoples of the County of Stirland,

I, Athanasios of Aziza, pen to you, on behalf of the Nomadri People, to offer you our deepest gratitude for your sincere and genuine hospitality during our stay within your borders.

For your graciousness and helpfulness, we have decided, in accordance with tradition, to celebrate our final night within Stirland with a feast this coming month! Come one, come all!

To those interested in the art of smithing:
Penned by Caspian on the 13th of The Grand Harvest, year 233 of the Second Age

—✧—

[OOC: Apollo in the Forge of Vulcan by Diego de Velázquez in 1629]

—✧—

The blacksmith, Caspian, of the County of Stirland invites all interested in smithing and forging, be they from the Kingdom of Burgundy or other, to learn under his guidance. He will provide the knowledge of the basic skills of forging, should one wish to learn from more than just a book on a shelf. This event will provide the opportunity for those wishing to start their careers to see the day to day duties of an average blacksmith. Attendees shall be expected to forge ferrum handaxes during this process. For questions or concerns, please send Caspian [IGN/DC: clearlynoko] a letter.

Signed,

[OOC: Date of event is Saturday, May 24th of 2025 at 3:00PM EST]