THE CONSEQUENCE OF CHOICE

[Shmeepicus 4213]

The Consequence of Choice

 

 

 

9th of Owyn's Flame, in the Year of our Lord, 17 B.A.

 

It is said that a man who promises the Seven Skies on the mortal plane will deliver nothing but the Void. When the true men who stood with Emperor Peter IV in the St. Ari’s Day Massacre were guided south to the blessed lands of St. Lothar, honor left the befouled lands of Oren. In its place stood the kinslaying usurper who made his council of vermin and treacherous palace lechers.

 

A man who makes his home in the den of snakes is not to be surprised when they are bit. And so the pretender, the murderer of children, and the destroyer of our country lies dead. With no legacy but that of destruction, history will look poorly upon the visage of such a scoundrel. 

 

So we ask you, the people of a once proud Oren, how severely has Frederick failed you? To be guided by a blind shepherd for sixteen years, the lands of St. Lothar now call unto you!

 

Our brothers and sisters, we share blood and a homeland that is inseparable from our souls. And as we wept for our loss, we know you do the same. The Balianites weep alongside you. For all this war has brought you what? All the promises of glory, of conquest, of victory? They are a fruitless tree these men watered with your family’s blood.

 

Now we stand ready to receive you with tenderness. We shall invite you into our homes and supply you with the camaraderie and kinship we once prospered in. 

 

Journey south, our brothers and sisters of mighty Oren. Find solace, as we have, in this blessed land among friends. We shall forgive each other's trespasses and look to forge a new way, distant from the kinslaying treachery that plagued our late Empire. Symphonies cannot be played alone. They require an orchestra. Hence, greatness cannot be built by only one sect of this Orenian sundering. It shall require time, but in time we will construct a new way - Together.

 

 

IN NOMINEI DEI,

 

Alexandros Casimir, 

Heir to the Grand Duchy of Balian, Count of Monteres

[oryP 1068]

Herman II laughed at the parchment before using it as a fine tissue he’d need for the bathroom. “Shit missive aye?” He’d cackle as he stated such. “Literally.”

 

[annanicole__ 2802]

As she stood next to her brother, Princess Augustina grinned. "Balian is a place of new beginnings. No matter who you have previously supported, you are welcome here. The Grand Duchy is bold and powerful. Brothers and sisters of the mighty Oren, travel to the south. In the same way that we did all those years ago. Create something you can be proud of. Ave Balian!"

[ErikAzog 3575]

"Oren is dead. Long live Balian." would remark Captain Arkent.

[Asutto 2452]

Ser Trent Tricepts snores just as the Imperial Army did when their false Emperor got captured.

[tilly 5115]

"This is an interesting tactic to get people to populate and support their lands once more... I'm curious to see how effective it will be, however..." Odessa shelved the missive to be used for reference should she ever need to relocate from her beloved farmstead in Acre.

[Dogged 2879]

14 minutes ago, annanicole__ said:

Ave Balian!

"Sedan." Joseph coughed clearly agitated.

[tadabug2000 4918]

Lady Johanne Vuiller readied provisions should anyone move to the Grand Duchy, though as she thought of those who aided in the usurpers coup and to see how karma seems to be coming for them now, she couldn't help but think that perhaps there is justice afterall.

Nonetheless, food is prepared alongside medical supplies.

[annanicole__ 2802]

5 minutes ago, Dogged said:

"Sedan." Joseph coughed clearly agitated.

Princess Augustina sighed and added on “Ave Sedan” 

[Pancho 4197]

A young Hyspian Patriot stands working, tending the fertile fields of the Upper Petra in the Barony of Acre as the missive is read aloud. “The very men who ran after the Emperor died decide to piggyback off of the success of the common folk. My father didn’t die for this cause.”

[Da_Emperors 1987]

Constantine Malenos would reflect upon his early life and how the promised land of Saint Lothar has given a second chance for himself. “Regardless of how we came to be within the Southern Continent, I shall thank god each and every day for giving this life I have been given.”

[Frisket 4538]

Elise the young elfess hand maid would look onto the missive as Ember began writing a different one.

 

"M'lady it seems the prince and his Imperial Highness have spoken over refugee matters...I assume yes?"

 

Ember shakes her head

 

"Only words my dear, you interperted that one way, I see as a messege of revolution."

[Malta 2811]

Mariano turned the missive over in his hands for a few solemn moments, tossing it aside before gazing longingly out the window.

"Their flight to the south allows them to disparage Freddy's memory from a distance. I wish I'd killed more in the square that day.""

Then he went back to his work, endlessly tinkering with the small blade in front of him while he pondered what could have been.

[argonian 14254]

1 hour ago, Shmeepicus said:

The Consequence of Choice

 

 

 

9th of Owyn's Flame, in the Year of our Lord, 17 B.A.

 

It is said that a man who promises the Seven Skies on the mortal plane will deliver nothing but the Void. When the true men who stood with Emperor Peter IV in the St. Ari’s Day Massacre were guided south to the blessed lands of St. Lothar, honor left the befouled lands of Oren. In its place stood the kinslaying usurper who made his council of vermin and treacherous palace lechers.

 

A man who makes his home in the den of snakes is not to be surprised when they are bit. And so the pretender, the murderer of children, and the destroyer of our country lies dead. With no legacy but that of destruction, history will look poorly upon the visage of such a scoundrel. 

 

So we ask you, the people of a once proud Oren, how severely has Frederick failed you? To be guided by a blind shepherd for sixteen years, the lands of St. Lothar now call unto you!

 

Our brothers and sisters, we share blood and a homeland that is inseparable from our souls. And as we wept for our loss, we know you do the same. The Balianites weep alongside you. For all this war has brought you what? All the promises of glory, of conquest, of victory? They are a fruitless tree these men watered with your family’s blood.

 

Now we stand ready to receive you with tenderness. We shall invite you into our homes and supply you with the camaraderie and kinship we once prospered in. 

 

Journey south, our brothers and sisters of mighty Oren. Find solace, as we have, in this blessed land among friends. We shall forgive each other's trespasses and look to forge a new way, distant from the kinslaying treachery that plagued our late Empire. Symphonies cannot be played alone. They require an orchestra. Hence, greatness cannot be built by only one sect of this Orenian sundering. It shall require time, but in time we will construct a new way - Together.

 

 

IN NOMINEI DEI,

 

Alexandros Casimir, 

Heir to the Grand Duchy of Balian, Count of Monteres

"I believed in Frederick. Our King provided for us, His Majesty served us well. Although his war with Haense was ill-advised, he never intended to act to our detriment, and indeed, act he did, as opposed to his lackadaisical predecessors who never raised a finger.

 

In Balian? They slept, they wept, they their regrets kept. They never served us, only lamented that we didn't honour the decadent 8th Empire as we 'should' have. No, the Balianites and their ilk are not my friends. Should they wish for unity, they should start with Horen and not with Novellen.", Stanimar remarks.

[Eryane 3698]

As the streets remained silent and the common folk stayed in their homes, windows shut and curtains drawn, a blonde-haired baseborn girl of sixteen years roamed the streets in her own quietude. It was late at night by then, with only lanterns and candles to light to ward away the darkness. Arabella tenderly kept a rag to her nose as blood dripped from it as a consequence of the dry, airy night.
 

As the rush of blood slowed, she pulled the worn cloth from her nose and watched as a collection of papers scattered across the empty city square. Perhaps it was a missive from the king, who she long awaited word from for a hint of solace. The letter was signed by another cousin of her Novellen (albeit hers tainted) blood, Alexandros Casimir. With a talent in  unrestrained curiosity, she lifted the parchment close enough to read. 
 

And there was a longing she felt. Together, the Balian heir had written as his final word to the Orenian populace. 
 

Together. 
 

She sobbed, fell to her knees; the girl was not old enough to know a time where that togetherness existed within the complete Orenian society. She did not truly even know what it meant to begin with, or if it was a word with empty meaning and no true fulfillment to be given with it. What would today look like if yesterday had been different? What would tomorrow look like, if she chose to follow the path that Balian aristocracy beckoned for? Was this simply a petty political scheme to manipulate the scared common people who knew no better than to decipher deception? Or was it genuine concern? She could not tell as she wiped the tears from her cheeks. 

 

Another night, she would give it another night, and hope the best to come for those of her young generation.