AVE SAVOY [PK]

[valecu 2128]

La Princesse du sud, c. 1852

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It was a night, illuminated by moonlight- she would pace towards Niseep, yearning to set her eyes upon Lucien. The Count de Bar had welcomed her, as the Ashford Prince was yet to appear. They curtly chatted, but upon her elder brother's entrance the Princess jumped from her seat in excitement- mimicking the expression of a dog upon seeing its human parent. Her red-hair flew as she progressed towards the other de Savoie figure, lots of questions were directed at him. Some answered and others not- via Carolina’s proposal they embarked on a walk. Words were exchanged, as they wandered. The duo had disappeared from the glance of the Count of Lvinsk and Niseep. A quarter of an hour had passed, then bisection of such, later an hour- perchance even hours. They returned back, donning weary expressions and watery eyes. Something had changed for the Heiress, she was enlightened- embracing the Ashford Sun, as her guide. Their whispers echoed throughout the desert mere moments ago, yet now silence ruled over the area. “I shall not fail you- fratello.” She murmured to Lucien, as he ascended the stairs and retired for rest. In hopes of seeking achievement of personal ambition and sense of completement, she had betrayed her home. Yet- she realised now, there’s no sod, but Savoy. The Princess perceived her mistakes- seeking to overcome such. Behind her were left the Simonists, whom she envisioned continuation. “Addio- Orenia.” She remarked, whilst doing some last arrangements in Orenia. She was a foreigner there- and Savoy called for her. So she jumped onto her steed, accompanied by few men and set towards the Ashford-blessed lands. She was bound to assist her nation. For her, there was no greater than the Savoyards. “Guide me, grandfather.” Her voice called the skies, awaiting no answer- but wisdom. The man she looked up to was gone, but Carolina knew he was with her. The de Savoie descended graciously from her horse on the ground, briskly scanning her surroundings as she had returned to Savoy- swearing that she shall abide there till the end of her mortal experience. The Princess planned to restore Savoy to its greatness, yet once the remaining Councilors had gathered her plans were struck down by proposal- them seeking to enthrone Remus de Bar or Renata de Savoie. She felt betrayed- she felt as if her birthright was stolen, and for what? For she had resided in Orenia and successfully had the Senate under her control. They did not understand her dream- nor vision. It was all the plan of her younger sister, and the knock-off oracle of Niseep. How could she stay obedient? She didn’t. Upon adjourning the meeting, she contacted mercenaries. Carolina planned to commit sin, by ordering the death of Renata. It was all going great- until the moment came. As the raiders barged into the succeeding meeting, the Savoyard tried to play it off. Yet, her red-haired sibling struck her soul with one glance. The battle began, subseqeuntly most of her enemies laid on the ground. One did not fall, the Prince of Savoy. He stood and dispatched all swordsmen, then he assisted his countrymen. As such was done- Renata gazed at Carolina, she accused her of this. The older sister was doomed- her prestige and honour lost, the things she most cared for. In light of such, there was no going back and she challenged her younger sibling to duel. To her surprise, Lucien stepped in as Champion of Renata. She knew it was over, but at least she would have died as Savoyard. One who never knelt, one who maintained such values of ambitiousness and honour, one who never surrendered. As her brother struck her, she endured- endured, and then fell to the ground, collapsing. “Plunge your blade, brother.” She uttered. “Be a true Savoyard.” Her complexion grew into a smile. Carolina proceeded to shift a palm onto her heart. “Do it- Lucien!” The sword dived into her body, blood leaking out of her. Yet- her lasts were heard by many. “AVE SAVOY, AVE DE SAVOIE!” The princess’s dying gaze directed at her brother, eyes leisurely closing. She settled on the ground, lifeless as her livid hues shut.

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Spoiler

OOC:
I wish to thank firstly Publius and axeluu for granting me this opportunity to play as their child. It has become my favorite persona, and I wouldn’t lie I hate having to never play her again. The thing I most liked was that she was not perfect- rather insane, due to her induction in Coups, Civil Wars and etcetera at a young age. Secondly, I extend my thanks to her siblings Milenkhov, MikoMonster and Spicii. I think all of us were pretty active and we had tons of fun roleplaying. Then my thanks goes to all the people she made as friends and allies.

I LOVE ALL OF YOU <3

 

[MikoMonster 1396]

Princess Renata de Savoie sat in her chambers that evening. Within the day, her life had flipped upside down. The betrayal and death of her sister, the near loss of her life, a broken betrothal, and the bestowal of a future with a crown upon her head.

 

She had been blinded when her sister’s life had been severed, and she had not seen the body disposed of. Yet despite her sour words to the Count Remus, something deep within her grieved. A poor excuse for a sibling, perhaps, but blood nonetheless.

 

The princess remained alone in her room for several days.

[spicii 1131]

Vivienne Anastasie sat perched upon the desk that sat in the corner of her office in Providence, pen attached to the innings of her fingers as the woman was hours deep into a pile of work.

"Your Higness! This arrived for you." A staunch servant of hers bellowed from the other side of the door, extended hand knocking unto it. With a deep sigh formulating from the depths of the slate orbed woman, Vivienne snatched it from the servant and waved him away with utmost annoyance.

Carolina Luisa de Savoie is dead.

That one sentence plagued Vivienne's mind in a rather vigorous sense of harrowing distress as she scanned over the missive, throwing it behind her in an expression of sorrow. A warm, wet substance began to form between the corners of her now closed eyes, the flow only growing more substantial as seconds flew by. The sibling of Carolina's cranium rested upon the desk, hands following in suit as the Princess remained in such for hours to follow.

 

[Olox_ 4318]

Borys does sigh at the memory of Carolina's death "A shame truly, if only she had listened to my family's advice..." The Margrave shook his head before going inside the church to pray

[Borin 7645]

"A traitor who wished to have a good Canonist prince butchered by hired blades so she might seize the throne.. thankfully, GOD willing, she hired incompetent ones!" bishop viktor grumbles and mumbles

[Cepheid 4304]

A young de Savoie boy was absorbed in his lessons of the blade and training of the sword with the Baron of Ames when a rider of Lewes came sprinting into the training grounds. Perplexed by the sudden interruption, he sought to put a brief halt to the training as the rider cried out;

"Prince Olivier! Prince Olivier! My greatest apologies, your sister Carolina has passed."

No words had escaped the maw of the young boy as his lip quivered, so much death has surrounded him since his youth, his mother, his grandfather, his grandmother, everywhere he looked he found no solace in the fate of a Savoyard. Perhaps it was even to be his fate one day, to die at the hands of his kin. It mattered not so long as he kept up his honor and as tears began to well in his cerulean hues, he understood that in some cases tears were honorable to be shed too. That night he had a maid servant assist in an old Savoyard tradition of lighting a candle, holding his own private vigil. The sun had yet again set on the Savoyard sands, only this time he was not there to witness it. The boy had only known grief, yet it had finally dawned on him what it truly meant to understand it with the falling of his sister, one who had done nothing but support and love him, and the only one of his sisters to have visited. It was then that the youth finally murmured to himself as he wept in the confines of his quarters in Lewes.

"I will miss you, fratella."

[Ramon 5186]

Karl Amadeus sighed as he sat by the shores from which the body of the dead Princess was sent off by raft, where he had been for a while to keep vigil after she had been slain. He felt guilty, having wished for her to be spared, regardless of all evil she had attempted to levy upon them.

Spoiler

very controversial character. you played them well ngl

 

[Axelu 4333]

A mother, in the heavens above, would await her daughter past illustrious gates of ivory. She would weave through the frenzies of newcomers, in pursuit of her eldest daughter with a heavy heart, though her efforts seemed all but victorious. Bolstering herself with the frame of yet another faceless figure clad in white, She wept - wept in the domain of God! what a contradiction! Even in the realm of the righteous, this Princess of Savoy, and Royal daughter of Sutica, was nothing without her family. A family that, through their sin, sin she had done her best to overlook, would be divided forevermore. 
 

 

Spoiler

You were excellent, daughter o’ mine :)

 

[Vikenz 1162]

Leufroy welcomes his niece to the the seven skies! :)

[helldiving 5793]

The Champion of foreign lands, ruler of the South, dormant flurry of blades recalled the eventful eve with much confliction, tension and sadness. Was it a hint of regret, which beleagued the princeling, surveyor of the dunes? Was it grief, guilt and the pain of commiting a most terrific cardinal sin? So long had he mourned, so long had he made attempts to revitalize and allow, to welcome she who once entertained the vicious and most vile subterfuge with the late Vasileia. No matter. Lucien loved his siblings dearly, and despite the forceful decisions, the lies and deceit planted on the dear Carolina, he saught to aid her and ensure her betterment and path were once more paved. They shared a conversation, many years after the schemes unveiled, they shared bread and laughter, they saw a different vision, a dream, and Lucien would recall, Lucien would remember vividly as a fiery imagery of that words.

 

"My Savoyard dream."

 

The dream was much similar to Lucien's, though tainted by the vicious trait, that wanton; lust that Carolina had secretly conveyed to her brother. While many would have judged her, many would have saught to dispatch of her, to give her cruel treatment, the prince did not. She was still a child, a dear sister, one who had been lost and slighted, one how had returned home and perdured, endured upon the advances and restorations to their homeage, to their legacy.

 

"No matter dear sister. Lust for power, it is not something to be ashamed of. Though there is yet much to learn, much to seek - the love of our people - the love of our leal subjects. You are no stranger, nor afar from mine crown, and if GOD willing you are to succeed me, I would facilitate any candidate the path."

 

Carolina seemed most enthralled by the idea of ruling, power and change - and so her older brother would make best to facilitate such, for if she were to prove, he saw no issue nor missfortune befell upon the idea, that dream of hers. Although fate had entwined that she who sinned once, who betrayed and consorted in subterfuge were to do such twice.

 

As the night befell the County of Lvinsk, and their so secretive, yet very detailed meeting were to begin, in order to find a solution for Lucien's successor, a band of warriors trampled forth, brusing and battering door and folk without halt. They stated their intentions to create most painful grief; to kill.

 

Lucien unveiled his remarkable heirloom, Frostbringer, and their fates were sealed. In that bloodied bout, like a miracle from GOD itself, was the prince victor, triumphant in tandem with the toppled companions and severed enmity upon his land. If he fleed, if he ran he would be not worthy of that crown, everything would have been in vain. He deflected and received enough strikes, but it had all culminated, and his bloodied form, trembling and soaked in the crimson ichor found itself twitching, unnerved at the sights. All of the attackers had been slain, yet all of his companions, the leal savoyards were knocked, wounded - save for one.

 

Carolina stood there, barely scrapped. Lucien's ire turned into pain, sadness that encroached him. And so the standing Renata saw the truth, the truth of Ashford before her eyes. She barked words - denouncing what Lucien truly knew, it was not hard to sight behind treason for a second time. The Prince knew it was over.

 

Carolina wished to duel Renata, the other daugther of their late progenitors. Lucien did what he was taught, and he made effort to avoid more blood, to avoid more death. So emerged he, Champion of Savoy, Champion of Ashford, Champion of Renata.

 

A succession of blows, in that flurry- that frenzy culminated with a toppled and defeated, disarmed Carolina. Memories flew through Lucien's mind - when they would speak within the Aggradé, toddlers they were, when she would speak about her advances within the tutelage of Tylos in a previous time. All these beautified memoir was futile, for it had all come to an end. Justice was nigh.

 

The Frostbringer thrusted its frigid tip upon Carolina's neck, twisting for a quick death, yet her gaze pierced upon Lucien's soul, who then fell unto the soil, staring at the skies. He was unfit for ruling no more, for he was nothing but, the restorer; and alike the KINSLAYER.