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A New King In Akovia

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Within the town of Karovia, a vast throng of townsfolk head to the Akovian mountain keep, admiring its grandeur and majesty. Though the commoners still grieved the recent plague that had gripped their once proud King Varon, they were stimulated by the prospect of a just and rewarding ruler being made. Afterall, such perilous, dark times required a competent liege, for every Akovian, noble and peasant alike, sought to bask once more in the light of prosperity and stability.

 

Within the keep, stood the esteemed assembly of electors, claimants, and those associated with such classes. Among them stood the hardened family of Vanir, comprised of the most fearsome warriors Akovia had to offer. At their side, with the unmistakable Vydrani plume, stood one that many tales had spoken of. Andrik of the house Vydra. Composed, capable, and with a glare that made skin crawl and struck the hearts of men with unease.

 

Soon, emerging from his quarters, appeared Vasili Vanir, the Lord Regent. As those attending were ushered into silence, he spoke, "The Council of Electors have been unanimous in their selection of a King!"

 

Pausing, the Lord Regent, unraveled a scroll with deft fingers and a keen eye, stating, "Andrik, Patriarch of House Vydra, has hereby been elected King of Akovia. Should he accept, he is tasked with defending the sovereignty of this fair Kingdom, and protecting the rights and freedoms of those who call this glorious place home."

 

Andrik, stoic as always, let out a barely audible mutter, “I accept.”

The congregation imparted  their support with a round of audible applause as they parted to clear a path for Andrik. Taking his seat upon the throne, the King gazed upon his subjects, unsmiling as he waved to courtiers to begin preparations for a celebration.

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Veren snorts, watching the so called 'throng' of people celebrate.

"New king? The last time I saw a person in that city was when Carrion owned it. Good luck with your kingdom."

He continues to watch the celebrations, grumbling under his breath.

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Rykov crosses his arms, dipping his head. He seems to pray.

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Allister halts his march midway down the road. His eyes widen underneath his helm.

 

"p-P-POWERFUL"

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Paul applauds the new king as he mounts his throne, surely sign of progress and a bright future for the nation.

 

"Hail Andrik! Hail Akovia!"

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Boris, in attendance watches closely. He bites his lip, rallying his followers up for a quick exit.

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Claps his hands together, saying to himself "Let this new reign be fruitful, oh Godan above!"

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A clergyman would hear of the new king and send a letter to him offering to set up a proper coronation between him and the High Pontiff.

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John Vilcan sits back in his chair after hearing the news, wondering why house Vilcan was not in the poll, or even that no-one mentioned a vote to him

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Mithras murmurs, "Kings made once again, I wonder if this one'll be remembered, infamous or famous.." 

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John Vilcan sits back in his chair after hearing the news, wondering why house Vilcan was not in the poll, or even that no-one mentioned a vote to him

 

"Heartlander filth can make stay in heartlander filth. Leave Raev alone!" yells Boleslaw out the window to no one in particular.

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Vasili, amidst the celebrations, makes a hesitant retreat, going off by himself to spend some time thinking.

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Artyom grumbles to himself, asking his grandson Vasili all kinds of obnoxious questions about why he didn't become king and why he must bring such shame to the family name.

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Timothy the Dwarf bends a knee happily, smiling through his thick dark beard at the new king. "Ah'll serve him until he releases me from oath." The dwarf remarks.

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