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THE EXODUS OF GRODNO


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Bianka idly stood there smiling as she had no idea what was going on.

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And so it had to be done. Ottilie Franziska Jazloviecki made her way along the walls of Grodno the following night, their residents at rest. Yet, she was not for her heart remained heavy. So many things in her life had spawned upon these lands - her fruitful marriage, their children, the countless great friendships. They were dear to her, and now she had to let the memory of them go. Her footsteps led her to the tree in the courtyard by the noble quarters, and quietly she reached out to its bark to trace her fingers over hers and Maciej's carving. "To a new future." The Margravine said solemnly, her eyes fluttering shut for a brief moment to take everything in. Exodus had begun.

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Aurion Aretheon sighed as he packed his bags.

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The missive weighed heavily on Sister Calliope's mind as she observed Grodno from Saint Ottomar's Hill, hoping to catch sight of Maciej himself in their preparations for their exodus.

 

"We all have our debts to pay, Matthias. I have paid mine, and my brother paid his - now it falls upon you and your people to brave your final test," she uttered to the wind, signing the Lorraine. She hoped she would see the Jazlovieckis again, in a happier time.

 

 

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Hannes was left alone in the feast hall after Maciej and Ottilie left, along with his bannermen to leave the Baron to gather himself. It was a tough decision. The aging Baron prayed, and muttered to himself:

 

"Your people will find peace, old friend. May our paths cross again, so I may see you in wealth."

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Cynefrith Easworth would be watching the world go by as he smokes from his pipe, thinking about the words spoken by the Grodnoids as they left Acre. He would be handed a copied missive and before long would then finally smile. "So this was remark... I mean it's land to be turned into forest so I guess I am happy... How to destroy a stone fortress though..." 

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Edmund sighs. "Lord 'ave mercy, this weigheth heavy. Fond am I of the land, of the high walls, the distant mountains and the green hills."

 

His grief stiffens to resolution. "But where my liege leadeth, whither shall I go."

 

Over time, the yeoman even warmed to the idea. He tries to comfort his liege:

 

"All places that the eye of heaven visits are to a wise man ports and happy havens. Teach thy necessity to reason thus: there is no virtue like necessity. Think not that the Harvest did banish thee, but thou the harvest: Woe doth the heavier sit where it perceives it is but faintly borne. Go, say we are sent forth to get thee honour, and not that are banished! Or suppose devouring pestilence hangs in our air and we are flying to a fresher clime. 

 

Look, what thy soul holds dear, imagine it to come whither thou goest, not whence thou comest: suppose the singing birds musicians, the flowers fair ladies, and thy steps no more than a delightful measure or a dance! 

 

For gnarling sorrow hath less power to bite 

He that mocks at it and sets it light.

 

Wher'er I wander, boast of this I can,

 

though banish'd, yet a true born Grodno man." (( inspired by Richard II act 1 scene 3))

 

 

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