The Tree Wilts

[Kim 1328]

Adelaide collapses into a chair, pressing the tips of her fingers to her temples. Her typically jolly gaze stares icily at the parchment on the table in front of her as she sits in silence for a long while. The screech in the distance from a bird of prey brings her back to the present, and she tears at the letter before sweeping the scraps off the desk.

 

"Blood for Ashford. Blood for Amaury." Adelaide whispers over and over, tilting her head back to rest against the back of the seat.

[Caranthir_ 2533]

Edward York, the young Baron of Crestholm sits in his newly finished keep; the foundations only just laid and the cement only just set. His trustworthy informant from Felsen strides into the war chambers, a wry grin on his face. "Why, whatever is the matter?" Edward asks the man, a quizzical look passing his usually placid features. As the informant tells the young Baron of the impromptu execution made by the now-dead Emperor and the brutalities of the people of Felsen his once quizzical look turns into a frown, he pushes himself off of the table, walking over to his balcony. He then looks down onto Crestholm his city which he had made, which he had worked for and which he had built from the ground up, a woeful sigh escapes his mouth, the warm breath becoming steam as it reacts with the cold, harsh Norlandic air. He mutters one  sentence, the meaning heartfelt and sorrowful. "Why, oh why Oren in all your power and glory do you have to succumb to this level of ignorance and idiocy." He says to himself, his fair locks falling in front of his forehead due to the powerful breeze upon his mountain palace, he then sighs again before saying. "Why can there not just be peace in our time....." He closes his eyes as the gale increases and as a batch of snow finds its way onto the high balcony. The youthful and weary Baron then retreats to his chambers dissmissing his sardonic informant and telling the guards to double the patrols and to build up the defences.

[Nathan_Barnett36 1564]

"Deserved it" says Ivan.

[Org_The_Robo 288]

Blood For Carrot. Blood of Amaury

 

 

AVE AVE AVE AVE AVE

[Esterlen 4499]

 

A long letter dated from the year 1546 may be found on the Archduke's person, addressed with a simple J.F.I monogram.

 

A letter from you calls up recollections very dear to my mind. It carries me back to the times when, beset with difficulties and dangers, we were fellow laborers in the same cause, struggling for what is most valuable to man, his right of union and ascendancy over those southern rabble. Laboring always at the same oar, with some wave ever ahead threatening to overwhelm us and yet passing harmless under our bark, we knew not how, we rode through the storm with heart and hand, and made a happy port.

 

But whither is senile garrulity leading me? Into politics, of which I have taken final leave. I think little of them, and say less. I have given up my war councils in exchange for writers of antiquity, for Locelarius and Hadrien, for Virosi and Camoryn; and I find myself much the happier. Sometimes indeed I look back to former occurrences, in remembrance of our old friends and fellow laborers, who have fallen before us. Of the signers of the Treaty of Metz I see now living not more than half a dozen on your side of the Dreiden, and, on this side, myself alone, with those who you keep company with so terribly discontented with me. You and I have been wonderfully spared, and myself with remarkable health, and a considerable activity of body and mind, for those who ought be failing in middle age. But that I fear irrespective of our health the union will be compromised, either before my death or thence immediately after.

 

There are ample blackguards on both sides of that great Dreiden, though I fear agitators that wish for such a breakdown come from your own and not mine. I have toiled - nay, for that, we have toiled, since to the depths of ineffectuality I would have been cast without you and yours - to preserve the union of the two halves and maintain the most contentedness among my people, and no doubt I have erred since despite my throne I am as fallible as any wheelwright, but I go to war knowing that should I die I have done everything in my power to empower the Orenian people in their totality. I have eschewed dynastic ambitions for the good of the many, and to those who call me a warmonger I deny such labels. We most merry bunch have merely endeavoured fully to revenge the human plight upon the Urguanite menace, to the death of thousands mayhap but to the greater cause of humanity, for it is our manifest destiny to reign over such perfidious curs and despite our political differences, this you cannot deny. Together we have endeavoured this to no personal gain of our own, for I am no prostitute to the people and wish for not a single copper or scrap of land for my own incomes. Though I fear this war is failing, I know that without your aid it would have failed years ago. I implore you, since the people of Lorraine listen much to you and little to me, to acknowledge to them that what we have attempted and in fact achieved in the name of humanity has been much greater than what has been achieved since the days of Peter...

 

Perhaps I have been harsh in many of my approaches, but I have also been merciful, as have you been. You yourself once told me years ago that the label of tyrannous is ill-fiting to those actions performed for no personal benefit but instead for the betterment of the country and its people. You used those words to describe your own actions and those of your father in the Duke's War, and it is my most earnest belief that it applies to us even still. We are more akin that you would think and I pray that we persist in such harmony for many decades to come. You are one of the greatest men in Oren, greater than myself even, and that is why you are Archduke, Archchancellor and every manner of hero to our realm.

 

With the greatest love, your friend,

John

[ErikAzog 3575]

Urik'Azog smirks loudy.

[Travista 1361]

Ferdinand Summers, now bearded and grown groans in grief, "Blood for Augustus."

[HeroOfDuLoc 1935]

Nikon Vladov looks upon his uncle's grave, glancing to the ruins of Brelus. "Blood for Adria."

[Gangrel1230 134]

Edward returns from the far northern reaches of the realm of Lorraine to hear of his Lord's death. As he dismounts from his horse within the courtyard he learns that he is no longer just the mere steward of Lorraine but now it's regent until the young Lothaire is of age and prepared to fill his father's void. "Blood for d'Amaury, Blood for Ashford, so much blood so quick. One day the Emperor will be able to control his own city. One day he will be able to command the loyalty of all his people even those he has empowered after they themselves had started civil war. One day there shall be peace but not this day." He'd look at a few of the gathered guardsmen and say, "Gold in Peace, Steel in War."

[HappyShackles 886]

Somewhere in the mountains of Vandoria, a pilgrim prince's eyes drift across the snow spattered peaks as he contemplates the death of the late Augustus, the Butcher. 

 

A sudden gust of wind rushes up the mountainside towards him like a torrent of fear, and the cowl of his earthy robes is thrown off of him. He instantly kneels, raising his hands to pull the cowl over his head tightly as the gust passes, his eyes closed.

 

As the torrent ends, a quiet sobbing can be heard, the craven pilgrim overtaken with news that was told to him many weeks ago.

 

"Nuncle August... God, be his guide."

[CheekyNolan 5420]

Moved to the Archive. It shall be sorted into the appropriate category shortly.