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One Last Chance [PK]

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"Though I die, the Republic lives on." 

The last words of the late Emilio d'Anpalais permeated Liv's life.

The rambunctious youth's spirit was defeated that day with the loss of her closest kin.

He fought in defense of the Commonwealth, saving the life of Paul Temesch with his last breath.



The Lady d'Anpalais in her early years, enjoying the sun & vines of Loch.


The Illatian had to this point been the epitome of carefree. The only dream she had was given, but at a cost she never imagined. Fields of ripe vines, ready to be crafted, but Summerhall was so - empty. Her heart that had once overflowed with life, that was too. 


"What more can I do than to follow his lead? To pursue the dreams he can no longer?" 

Livia's resolve was set, these Crownlands would become her own. With heart and soul, she poured into the citizens that she quickly came to know as friends. Providing care to the wounded, drinks to the thirsty, roofs to the wandering. The work she had done was not unnoticed, soon she found titles to add to her name but they were simply words. High Steward, Dame, Lady, all just words for what had they changed? Her motivation was true, to see these lands safe for all of her people.





A daughter, the first Daughter of Petra sat across from the Koeng of Haense and his many advisors arguing over truths but no nicety was offered in exchange for the news they carried. Brandt & Liv traded a knowing glance, for they had looked hatred in the face time and time again, they knew how this would end. But still they spoke without reservation, there was no place for it today. "You lead men, those who trust you. If you, too, would raise foreign troops to slaughter their children, then you will find her a fitting woman. But in truth, you do not seem the sort." Too bad for deaf ears.


In no time the pair were escorted down to the pit to fight for their lives. She stood no chance, she could not stand at all. The injuries inflicted days prior stole her strength. "Honorable men fighting for ignoble causes, be weary of which you choose, Livia." The man she had known so long ago had finally returned to offer this last lesson. Unbeknownst to her, Ser Paul had fought to see her released and his plea was heeded. As Ser Brandt fought, he was unable to fend off the Von Draco Knight. And then it was her.


Livia held her composure as she hobbled into the arena, crutches on sand were a hell of a combination dragging out her entrance but still the Dame stood with her head held high. The King's verdict was called, demanding her sword hand as payment and without a second wasted it had been taken. Her frame buckled beneath the searing pain. "Where are you taking me, Pavel?" She questioned through gritting teeth, her attention turned toward that towering man.


It was not only a hand sought, but her very freedom. "You will return with me, as my ward until this war is ended. Then you will be free." Some, many might have accepted this offer. A cage looks better than death, but no, no, no, she would not be caged while her brothers and sisters were cut down. 


"I will run to them, you know I will run." The refusal was met by Haeseni outcry, demand, but still Paul stayed his blade. "I am giving you this last chance, Livia." 


Chances, she had been lucky enough to be spared before but this, this was not a chance. She was like a bird, caged for so long, she could never return to that life. She would not cower here, her cause was well worth her life. "So that she may slaughter more children? I will never give." It was not an answer she wanted to give, but needed to. The reaction was swift, Pavel's steel driven through her chest with one great thrust. At least she would have the solace of knowing it was her own who brought the end. Finally, she was released to the Seven Skies, to her brother's open arms.




Left behind was a missive, copied multiple times that she had intended on pinning to the notice boards of every state of man. A warning. They would still find their way with the help of those she left behind.




An address to you, yes, you.


There are so many whispers, much misunderstanding about our strife here in Petra, but allow me just a moment to explain. There was no coup to dethrone Renilde over some sordid affair. There was only a response to the forces she brought to our doorstep, threatening many lives. We sought peace, called her to a Knightly Tribunal where she would have been protected had any wished to harm her, but she did not show. There was no letter sent in response, but she did answer with even greater numbers of unfamiliar faces. 


The foe were no men of the Heartland, but still, we know their name. Each donning plate that looks like the discarded content of a whale's stomach. Honorless in their fight, but skill undeniable to match the great size of their rally. Men you do not want to clash steel with. Nonetheless, here they stood on Petran soil seeking nothing but blood, glory and gold - Ferryman


If this force were not enough they brought company that no faithful person would allow. Hulking 'men' adorned in fine plates, strange they seemed and completely unfamiliar. But these were no men after all, but lesser dragons, beings of scale beneath that camouflaged skin breathing fire, leaving charred bodies scattered throughout the Castle Moere.


All the while, the 'Archduchess', sat in the comfort of the palace, unable to hear the carnage she unleashed upon the men, women, and children of Petra. She truly has earned the moniker, The Parasite, as she steals life from the Commonwealth, something so much greater than her. Leaching from Petra's very heart, her people discouraged, and lost amongst the waves of this tumultuous sea they have been cast so callously into.


I ask nothing from you, any of you who come across these words. Do not believe I wish for more death, nor steel, not even retribution. No. I simply wish to tell the story of a tyrant who turned tail on her own people. We are called rebels, we are branded with cowardice because we spoke out against the powerful, the divine who seeks to silence us. Do not become jaded to the corruption of those above you. Know our story, so that it might not become yours. 


Be good to your neighbors, to your friends & brothers, in the end they may be all you have left.



Livia Elena d'Anpalais

Defender of Petra


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Adrian John would sit at the apple tree by hut which stood on the old lands of the former county of huntshill reading the missive and hearing the news " It's a shame this has happened, part of me says she deserves it... but another part still sees a good friend, if that's what we were at the end of it all" the Huntshill Sarkozy and a son of Petra would take an apple off the tree and would walk off towards where he heard his comrades remained and where the archduke stayed.

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Albert Salvian lit a candle for the fallen Dame, knelt before the alter in a state of prayer.
"May her soul go in peace to the Seven Skies."

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Casimir Marius Vilac read over the missive "The parasite has taken too much from this land. She must be stopped and brought to justice. So many good people have been taken already, she cannot take anymore" He took a knee in remembrance of the knights that have passed. 

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Eryane sighed, hearing another loss.


"I did not know you long Livia, but GOD rest your soul."

The woman was still heavy with grief over the news of Emir possibly being dead and it weighed on her heart.

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Alone, Sir Gwendel Vilac stood alone as he looked over the halls within his home.. a place usually filled with people and joyful smiles. Yet it had mostly stood empty since he sent his family away after the marching of foreign soldiers upon their doorsteps.. at least that’s what he believed.. even though reports told him that two of his children had died during the attack.. a heavy breath was taken by the man as he looked to the statues within that large hall… he could still hear her voice, the voice of his mentor who he had squired under for all those years.. now stripped away from the earth due to the foolish commands of foreign King proving himself to be no better then the worst of his kin who came before.. he’d muttered a few words. Moving towards the greenhouse as he’d find some flowers, placing them under the newest addiction to his homes statues.. Dame Livia Elena d'Anpalais.

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