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[PK] A Story cut short


ErikAzog

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It was another Day within the City of Providence, or rather it wasn’t the city was being demolished to make way for something new, something different. Whatever came after, Providence will never be the same, but the excitement of what was to come had everyone tearing off the floorboards of Old Providence as the new one was built. That along with the Marching of Imperial State Army troopers out of the City of Providence to meet the Dwarven menace. The Empire was alive… Skirmishes against the enemy, the construction of a new Providence. It was all going well…

 

But within the St. James Palace, as the bricks and mortar were being laid, an elderly Prince would be seen sitting on a chair in a most uncomfortable position, his crimson hair in a disheveled state, his hand clutching his chest, his black hat fallen beside him. A smile on his face was evident, for he had seen his boy, George Maximilian, as he breathed his final breaths. He would hope for the Future.

 

 

Spoiler

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After reading this message sent to me by Kp just yesterday after the assassination, I just felt that I can no longer work in a community I've worked years for. I know there is a lot of drama going on in Oren, but after a years worth of work and to receive a screenshot like this, I just lost all drive to continue on. 

O7 to all the people I've played with over the last year
To my homies in the Imperial State Army. 
I love the ISA, and all the people I've met in there over the years. if you ever want to reach out to me and talk about the old days, Erik Azog#8112 add me on this handle. Have a great rest of the year.

 

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Princess Anne, who was starting to get a bit senile with age, would not believe the news at first. The news hit her harder a few days later, when her older sister and father had passed away as well. Never would she have thought to be the last one of the original five Crestfall children to be alive - and this weighed horribly on her mind. From then on, Anne vowed to wear only mourning garments in honor of her family.

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The Archchancellor remains confident that her brother Philip Aurelian takes after his son, and will soon return from the dead at the head of a mercenary army to save the country. He can't be dead. He just can't.

 

Nevertheless, she can't stop crying.

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Cold. That is all that George Maximilian could feel. Looking over his father as he died. ”God, why has this come upon me today. Why has the world grown so cruel. War, blood, death. Why must I endure. Why must I live to bear witness to it all.” The questions flooded George’s mind like the breaking of a dam. He had lost both his parents now, both people that he loved. Pain for George has always been a thing he could deal with, but this was different. The man who he had looked up to was dead. He couldn’t think of where to look next. 
 

Spoiler

Forever shall you be a King of the Ducks Erik. Thank you for all you have done for me.

 

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The Lord Carrington let out heavy breathes, in and out, this certainly wasn't the first time Mary had convinced Wilhelm into one of her ideas. He quickly ran off from the scene, bullets of sweat pouring from the mans forehead. "I can't..." He was sick. Wilhelm was always a squeamish fellow, and would deeply mourn the man that was always a mentor of the young Baron, but whatever Mary wanted, Wilhelm would always support.

 

Spoiler

Hey, I want to say thank you for always helping me erik, and you will always be one of my friends despite how you might feel about me

 

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From the docs of Valwyck harbour, Margot Baruch would sit in silence, contemplating the loss of the Empire. One thing the Baruch knew well is loss and for the first time since she was a child, under the moonlight, she prayed for the family and those experiencing loss. 

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Otto August of Haense sat on the only beach the Kingdom had to offer- his children playing within the sands and waters before him. He drew several depictions and calligraphy into the sand with a dagger 'Big Tony' offered to him as a boy, residing with him as a constant reminder.

The Lord hummed humorously upon hearing of the Princes death, for he did not hail from his nation he cared not.
That Imperial Prince hailed from a nation which survived so long off the struggle of others, a nation which abused those smaller than them, a nation which abused those worshippers of Godan. That is what made the Lord smile.

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Spoiler

 

 

Mary Othaman sat over the dead body of the Imperial Heir, her breaths heavy as she looked down over what she'd just done. The distant voices of ISA soldiers in the neighboring ballroom hitting her eyes and beckoning the slight movement of her eyes in direction of the origin. The Sedanite that accompanied her made his escape as soon as the dagger first pierced the prince's skin, the lady was truly alone in this moment, however she hadn't a single idea of how the world would make her feel in the coming moments. 

 

Still the woman sat by her dead lover, countenance without an expression as she stared down at his dead eyes. Eventually the Dame bent down, her arms seeking to embrace the man she loved. She held herself close to his lacerated chest, her reasoning for doing such a thing fighting the building regret for such a violent act within her as she laid her head upon the Adrian Duke's chest. 

 

She thought of the child they shared, not only unknowing of his lineage but also without any lineage left, for she was to be killed moments later by the soldier sworn to protect the very country she had just betrayed. She thought of the Princess, Charlotte, who had been so kind as to offer the former Governor a position within the Adrian household in exchange for her Governorship. She thought of the children, Amelia, that she had sought to teach the ways of court.

 

Lady Mary Casimira embraced her lover, weeping for what she'd just done.

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Kaustantin Baruch stared at the body of the Imperial Crown Prince for what seemed like hours now, it laid lifeless on the floor of a Northern Keep, tended to by an elder Morovar Oracle. "What are vy going to do with it...?" He queried the Oracle with a worried tone. The words that uttered the Morovar shook the Palatine whom left in a silent ride back to the Capital with his retinue. A sleepless night followed as he stared onto his ceiling and lamented the state of this world.

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Lady Provins recalls a memory with the Prince beside his beloved Amadea. Those were the days in which his smile shone brightest, undisturbed by the pain of the world's crumbling. How merciless is this land to take a man's shining sun from him and force him to wallow in the shadows, to be led astray into adultery and sin, and led further from the love of his children. She recalled this memory fondly as she stepped into the Cathedral of New Providence, a prayer whispered for the fallen prince.

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Konstantin had been wandering through the flaming rubble of Providence. The sight of his uncle's body, bloodied and limp, was an unforgettable one, and he wondered if the man would have grieved if the same fate had befallen him. He recalls the many times his family wronged him, and found his answer. Before he left, however, there was one last thing he remembered to do; and so he made his way back to the palace, pouring a mountain of coins over the corpse that no one had considered removing for some odd reason.

 

"Your three hundred mina," He announced to an imagined audience in those empty chambers. It was a joke he long desired to tell, a punchline now only understood by him, but Konstantin was grateful it was him who had the last laugh, giggling all the way home.

 

Spoiler

Time away from this place is always good, godspeed

 

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Josephine Aleksandra heard the news at dinner. The shock and horror left her breathless, and she did not even notice as her stiff, mechanical movements upended her goblet of wine and stained the length of the dining table. She stumbled from the room, out into the crisp air of the palace gardens, and ran to find her mother. @MunaZaldrizoti

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A flaxen figure stood solemnly on top a hill far in the distance as vibrate winds whipped at her figure. She held the notice of Philip's passing in one hand, eyes glazed over dully. Then turning back into her home to find shelter and a warm cup of tea.

 

"I shan't return." the youthful woman muttered to her ever-present butler. 

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Amadie Marlene gulps, a long frown befalling her face as she hears the news. 

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