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A Statement from the Count of Metterden


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A STATEMENT FROM THE COUNT OF METTERDEN

 


 

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22nd of Tov and Yermey, 342 ES

 


 

Due to the actions of Ser Ruben var Ruthern, I regretfully declare capacity as the Ruthern patriarch and as the Count of Metterden, I have been left with no other choice than to disown him for a variety of different reasons.

 

Earlier this Saint’s Day, the man whom I had once called my cousin declared to my face that he owed no allegiance to the House of Ruthern. Our quarrel first began when, against my wishes, he signaled his defiant willingness to enter into a matrilineal marriage against my will and discarded my attempts to otherwise facilitate the union in a manner that was acceptable to myself, to my council, and to his kin.

 

I have striven to show as much understanding and lenience as humanly possible, far surpassing that of my predecessors, but it would seem as though I am left with no other choice. 

 

Thus, it is with great regret that I must assent to my former cousin’s dare and disown him, so that he may do as he pleases without tarnishing the prestige of our ancient and noble House in the process.

 

Signed,

THE RIGHT HONOURABLE, Aleksandr var Ruthern, Count of Metterden, Protector of the South, Baron of Rostig, Lord of Ivanhall, Helmholtz

 

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“By Bones and Barrows,” Irena Ruthern uttered upon reading the final draft of the missive before its publicity. Later in the evening, she strode through the halls of Helmholtz to find her brother and reiterate her support in his decision. 

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Stefan Vyronov reads the statement within his office up north within his Keep. “Interesting this letter is.. though I do have to agree as I do have my own opinions on matrilineal marriages. Plus, it is up to the patriarch of the family that has the final say on who his or her family members marry.

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Ser Ruben quietly read the letter of disownment, having already sent the king a letter revoking his Ruthern name. ”I hardly see it to not be fair giving up years as I was simply told to wait and hold off a marriage, and then rightly giving an ultimatum to either accept a fair and equal contract approved by the High Pontiff or to allow myself to marry matrilineally.” He spoke with a calm tone as he sipped Earl Ruthern tea, the tea of his own creation and his closely guarded recipe. ”Tarnish prestige of the house? After I dedicated decades of my life to not only help the Ruthern name be known but to also get good will behind it- and then for him to have the audacity to claim the Rutherns clothed and fed me? I did niet see any Rutherns when my papaj left me homeless at eight, but he happily claimed credit for my doing of becoming a butler, and my doing of becoming a knight and my hard work...” The knight murmured to himself as he peered across the room to his father’s medal. ”And the singular thing I ask for, I am to be told to wait years without reason as I grey and grow older? I sincerely hope that they hold nie begrudge against me- The Rutherns are kinslayers.”

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Maric var Ruthern frowned upon reading the missive. “What about the bears!?” The child cried out in a fit of despair.

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”There are tenets and laws of familial bond a person must abide by.. To reliquish them to brazenly and without further thought simply because one does not wish to deliberate the technicalities of their marriage and its consequent affects on fellow kinsmen – why... it’s near unforgivable,” ranted Elizaveta of Metterden to her daughters, Sigmunda and Milena, affirming each of their hairs into their distinctive coiffures: pigtails for the former and flowy tresses for the latter. At the conclusion of her tirade, the woman traipsed toward her vanity, inspecting the mirrored likeness of herself in the reflective glass. 

 

”By Bones and By Barrows.”

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Angelika Bykov perused the statement, releasing a long sigh afterwards for Ruben’s plight. She pitied the man, the man her husband had raised and viewed as a son. She recalled her own memories of her and her husband’s disownment. The scenario was all too familiar to her. ”A true shame...reminds me of us when we were younger,” she remarked to her husband whilst folding the parchment and setting it aside. ”I hope he will not regret it. I pray for him and his marriage.” @erictafoya

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Ser Ivan merely chuckles as he lights up a cigar. As the old knight puffs a smoke, he remembers the time when he was disowned as well, though it was much more civil and less dramatic. “Pathetic. Whether noble or common, we’re all flesh and bones. Prestige is built on a persons character, not on their choice of marriage” the old knight said to his companion “Blood is blood. If a name is all that separates kin from a stranger then you were never family to begin with.”

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