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The Hearsay of Hanseti-Ruska

Edition V

Tov ag Yermey, 370 ES

 


 

Let us all bring our hands together, in prayer for the lately deceased Queen Mother of Hanseti-Ruska. Direful times are ahead of us, and have been for some years now. The streets of Karosgrad, they are filled with a riled up peasantry, and rats that have materialized from the sewers. Although, not all that much has changed in the courts. In fact, this Author places gold that the uprooted rats are no different than the conniving men and women of the courts and the streets; we’ll come to more of that later. I fear that this Hearsay might be gone for a short while longer after this, see, Isabel meant an awful lot for us. So consider us only a pair now, or rather, a duo. We’ll see about filling in the gap.

 

One Big Girls Blouse

~

You would think that with the running tensions of Karosgrad, at least one fight would develop from it all. But one cowardly, and ever-so grandiose Lord seems to be avoiding a duel. Just as much as he avoided seeing the late Koenas Mariya Amador, while his side amour prowled the streets. Many wish they could swipe that swollen-headed smile of his away, but then I come to realise that Stefan Vyronov is merely a Baron? It’s not worth it, he says, but is the time of any Lord worth the minutes of a petty, and downfalling Baron? His Grandfather while a bit senile, and can always be overheard talking about times of old. Wielding a sword in one hand, and the pride of Haenseman in his heart. Whatever could have gone for the superior Stefan to have sprouted a line of Vyronov’s that lead to such a poltroon of a man. Valdemar Vanir, the soon-to-be Lord challenged; the answer was no. Ailred Ruthern, the soon-to-be Lord challenged; no. Ruslan baruch, and no. The reasoning for the challenges might have been slightly in the shakes, but Lord Vyronov, do you wish to be the laughing stock perpetually? Or do you wish to reap at least some respect?

 

He hides behind the excuses of honour and proper clause, but we all know that the Vyronov is with his heart in his mouth. This is all but surprising considering that his darling seems to tower nearly over twice the size of him, we all know who dons the pants in his romance.

 

King o’ the Rats

~

We all miss Manfred Barclay. The man had a way with his soldiers, and he always had a proper way to deal with a problem. Friedrich Barclay, the successor, might have a slight way with the people, but the man solves problems like a child first learning to wipe their rear; befouledly. But no, this is not something to joke around, for the Marshal has been conspiring with the enemy and a ravenous one at that. You all have seen the packs of rats that comb the streets? His Grace decided upon meeting with them, for a truce, which is all not that bad until you find out he is offering to feed them the carcasses of troll bodies. And what happens when the starved rat suddenly has food again? They breed and breed, and soon they’ll surely overrun the streets of Karosgrad. It may be named the City of Crows now, but it’ll soon be the City of Rats, if the Marshal doesn’t wind his neck in. Manfred Barclay would have sensed this. Though, with all the deaths of his loved ones, perhaps the Marshal is turning to early senility? Hear hear, let us all put up an expedition, to find the brain in that cavernous skull of his head.

 

To the common folk of Hanseti-Ruska, step up before this Marshal early foots us into a crisis!

 

Majesty on the Market

~

To the dias, and presenting His Majesty, Heinrik II. Before the death of his late mother, it all but seemed the monarch was available, per se. So after this sparing stint of mourning, all the courtiers and other watching eyes expect him to remarry, or at least begin courting. Once moved out of this mourning period, this writer and the Hearsay desire to place bets on the following individuals. On who will be at the flank side of the Koeng, reigning as Her Majesty, or just another mistress of his. He is a grizzled, single father, and has clearly caught the eyes of these individuals:

 

Amalya Amador

Where has Amalya Amador gone, hm? A prime candidate, if you ask this writer, diseased by the surname of Amador and by peculiar intricacies. However, she was often seen patrolling the late night shift of the palace of His Majesty, which always ended in his office. My coffers would wager entirely on this one, if not for her absence and her previous courting of the missing knight, Ser Oliver. Strike her from the list!

 

Annika Vyronov

We all know the King has a tendency to act brash, or be full of himself. But with the traditional Lady Vyronov, he might just be biting off more than he can chew. From what I understand, she stands tall to everything she says, and will not easily give that ground away; especially to the Lord Vyronov, who would? A valid choice, and she might just add another sense to the ‘warrior’ aspect of being a Queen, one who fights by not drawing back. One who needs not a weapon, to defend herself. Poetic!

 

Rosalind Amador

Everybody can retell the story of Rosalind Amador having her head shaved of hair. But not everybody can quite retell how the King and herself rekindled following that, they are fond of each other. In spite of such, as much as the next man is fond of Rosalind, all know they are to be second best in her wake. Besides, all can pick out the stray grey hair from the mop of Rosalind, too old, I say.

 

Tarathiel Asul’oon

That house upon Koengstriet is a cursed one, housing a few too many strange folk. Tarathiel Asul’oon might just be the only promising feature to leave the bounds of it in fact. The King thinks that at least. Our beloved Isabel spied their late night doings far too much, but she always pleaded that we do not write on it. I suppose she does not have a say now, does she? Tarathiel, if only you were a human; love from Heinrik.

 

Love and courting might just be in the air again, even the Palatine has found himself a new woman to share the little free time he has with. Even if she is of precarious Imperial descent.. 

 

Haeseni Rose in Bloom

~

Times are drab, but I spy a blooming rose in the works of tainted soil. Petra Emma. Assassinations plague the reigning house of Barbanov, yet the little rose shall rise to be the light of the House of Barbanov. Alas, we have a Royal to treasure instead of critique to no end: Katerina, seems to have lost half of her personality, as her friends pass; an idle medic, she is now. Nikolaus, poor Nikolaus, he has been hidden away for many years. And there is Ser Aleks, the man just holds no colour in his eyes anymore. Ser Franz well.. a once wise figure, sages only incoherent ramblings now. And Juliya too, the lone mother, who parents the children to an overly zealot and ill-caring man --- forgotten by everybody. I do suppose Ser Franz has a few shining in his litter. Especially with those Barbanov-esque bastards running around, I wonder who those belong to! 

 

Hurray for Petra Emma. Even if the name does ring as poorly as a rusted bell.

 

Mister Speaker? Mister Speaker?

~

Igor, Igor. An excellent successor to the past Speaker, but he too, has his eyes set on the city of wigs. We are only thankful there is no Archchancellor for this one to marry! One might wonder where the Lord Speaker was during the duma of last, but I spied a little crow, promenading beside an Imperial wig himself. The Baroness of Halcourt, how dare you take our Speaker away and into your estate? Our beloved draft of promiscuity of our past must have blown over to Providence, how shameful. In light of this, hear to the hearsay, and put a bill in, as to to keep Igor Kort’s mind firmly upon that of his duty of the duma than this Orenian social season. Order!

 


 

As an honourable mention to the detectives of Hanseti-Ruska! It seems even our own hero of the commoners, Katerina, is afraid to leave the body of her past mother, Isabel. In the clinic overnight, at least. Perhaps some more thorough investigations might be done, for who knows what may transpire inside the nefarious morgue of Karosgrad; when not a soul is there to see. Or maybe, Katerina has more than just an eye in it all, but a hand also.

 

Why are bodies being cremated without permission?

 

Are the bodies even being cremated, or is it all a ruse for something far more sinister?

 

The Surgeon General carries no true life in those eyes. Does her only high in life come from that morgue?

 

Why does the Princess Katerina, the medical prodigy, cling to bodies as if her life depended on it?

 

Surely there is more to this morgue than meets the eye.

 


 

I suppose this Hearsay does owe an apology. But for what? These editions have become far and few between. However, one cannot exactly blame the Hearsay, the histrionics and thespianism of the past are not quite the same! I only hope a newer Queen, and court will bring about more scandal than ever, the last well.. she killed any of that. Bring back the thronged and alive courts! Hear hear.

 

Edited by HearsayofHansetiRuska
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"Mamej Mea! Here we go again." Comments Casimir Colborn as the missive flies into the windowless Duma chamber.

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After a very long session of Duma, Igor drew a long sigh in his office later that afternoon. He finally uncrumpled the hearsay missive that was mysteriously passed around the entire Duma hall in the middle of the session. The already stressed Lord Speaker was not too pleased about this particular edition, especially when it came to his part. "It seems that being sick apparently means you are having an affair with a woman in Oren. It is true, I was invited in her home but that was to meet the other members of the honorable House of Halcourt. This hearsay is nothing more than just that, hearsay." Igor crumpled the parchment again, along with the hundreds of other papers around his office.

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"Igor.. Du dirty hund!" Albrecht Mondblume chuckles from the back of the Duma hall while listening to Mister Speaker banging his gavel. "Seems like zhat hammer ist nicht ze only sing he vants to slam!"

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Stefan B. Vyronov rolls his eyes. "None of those men challenged me to a duel. Not properly anyways. I invite anyone with proper reason to challenge me properly and I will gladly accept."

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Fionn Castaway grabs a piece of paper containing the Hearsay, excited at first before reading the letter and throwing it away "Such horseshit... so what if Stefan doesn't wish to duel? Let the man live his life how he sees it. And what better way to get rid of Troll bodies? Simply slander is what this is." is what he'd mutter to himself after reading.

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Ser Alric amidst Duma kept a curious gaze upon the back of Igor Kort's head, sharing a second of thought or two for the man. 

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Jan Otto Kortrevich gasps for a third time in a row, but barely knows what the hearsay is about.

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Marie Barclay glanced over the missive, frowning as she discussed its contents with Patriarch Alfred. Did her stature really matter that much? Perhaps it means more strength, to seek a woman that can do more than sit idle and knit. To Marie it meant much more to be of use to her partner rather than sit and look pretty. As a true Haense woman should be strong and capable, rather than sit and gossip!

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Franz briefly reads over the Hearsay, though his attention was predominantly locked on that of the Duma. He breathes a sigh of relief as nothing was written of him, but frowns some at the article about Stefan!

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Friedrich Barclay lit the letter on fire with the help of Zodd Calliban as he gave it a quick glance over. He then lit a cigarette and let what he had just read fade away out of his mind, uncaring as he had a war against the trolls to think about.

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Annika Vyronov would read over the column in its entirety, eyes scanning the page hungrily. "I am put on a list!?" She exclaimed, wrinkling her nose. The lady would go and toss the missive on her desk, blue eyes shooting a glare at it. Focusing herself, she would inhale a deep breath, composing herself. Taking the newly gifted collier from her neck, she would toss it aside into her jewelry box. 

 

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Revas Asul'onn simply rolled her eyes at the missive. "My haelun has no interest in who she calls 'valah' in such a way. And, the bodies had been the morgue for months! Why do people nicht understand that we have no choice but to cremate rotting bodies?"

Isolde Barclay brought the missive to her mother, beginning to sign to her!

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Isabel, a former part of the trio, smiled from the seven skies! 
 

Tatiana read over the missive with an unsurprised expression upon her visage, "I'd say this hospital needs some looking in to," the young detective inquired. 

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Maric var Ruthern tapped his chin then in thought. "I did wonder where the Lord Speaker had got to last session! It is a dobry thing we have the Lord Handler about, top man."

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