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The Death of a Duke-Regent


gavyn
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Kzenia Sarkozic, after hearing of the news beforehand, finally saw the official missive already on her departure from Velec, taking a moment to bow and sign the lorraine despite stopping within the middle of a road. "Godanistan." was all she said for her prayer, knowing the situation would only get worse from here.

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"I am sorry, I am sorry, I am sorry..." Ser Morgan of Angren repeated to himself, holding his head in his hands. The fire had long gone out in his hovel and only a dim moonlight illuminated the interior. Even in the dark, Morgan could still see the Count Sigismond's head being cleft from his shoulders at the swing of the Duke's sword. How the crimson left a slash over Morgan's own steel breastplate mortified the young knight. These once two friends, both like fathers to him, now made to kill one another by this terrible war.

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"Brother turns against brother. the Orenization of the heartlands has had terrible consequences." remarked the Prince on the state of the Heartlands. Hoping that his home in the south would be spared from further trouble.

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Children left fatherless over a war fought on grounds of hearsay. May GOD allow all those who have turned away - refuge,  - the elf called out into the desolate expanse of the tavern, seemingly alone with a journal filled of missives distributed during these trying times. Clutching now, against his Lorraine Cross, sad the Canondom is left tainted.

praying-cross.gif

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"As if we didn't have enough to worry about, another massive war looms." Laetitia grumbled to her father from within a mansion abroad; glancing up idly toward the displaced Comte as she mended one of his coats. "The church was merciful towards one of their ilk and they go and assassinate someone within the same month! They've been emboldened by it." She signed the Lorraine over herself at that remark. "GOD help us all -- Assuming we survive whatever vile action they deem necessary next!"
 

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"They killed him?" Caius Godwin Alstion inquired of a servant within the palace. "No, this can not be true. I swear to GOD Almighty and His Holy Scrolls,  Heinrik, unlike you soon; he has died as a martyr, honourably. You, on the other hand; as GOD is my witness will be burned to ashes alongside your beloved Duchy. So help me GOD." 

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A darkness crept over Paul Varoche upon seeing the missives hung within the borders of Aaun. He and his brother were once close; Sigismond having taken the place of their father in the roach's youth. Deeply, he loved his brother; despite the distance that had grown between them. It was a knife in his heart; a storm in his mind, was it true, was he next? The conflict of Adria had only drew them further from one another; two cities in different directions. Sigismond was an incredible friend, brother, and father figure that changed the course of Paul's life. He and his son Charles will be missed, though never forgotten. 

 

"Lunga vita allo scarafaggio."

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In a church somewhere, a small girl all in white stared upwards as rays of light streaked through stained glass across the space, dappling her pale skin in color. She sat alone for a time, and then no longer alone. Silent, still as stone, she had become statuesque. She had been robbed of her warmth, and she wished only to turn to marble and cease to live in this wretched world.

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2 hours ago, Morphine said:


Robyrt sat in the town square, his helmet removed, saddened by this day. The man who welcomed him into Adria, gave him a steady income, and warm lodgings, lie cold as stone. It will only bring him greater resolve in the battles to come. "Ave Varoche", he softly spoke.medieval-knight-field-axe-39572045.jpg

Yvian approached the man, dipping his head to him and then passing him a newly baked pretzel Kristof had baked, a look of mourning present on his face as well, hoping the pastry can at least offer some form of condolence.

 

"The heretic will pay mein kamerade.." he finally broke the silence, passion now re-ignited in his heart

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Jan Jazloviecki sighed because of the Regent's death "May merciful GOD keep your soul. Your struggle is finished." He then signed the Lorraine

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"Why? Why must good men, perish? GOD-fearing men!" Lucia Marié cried, shaking her fists toward the sky. "Are we next?" She'd ask, turning to her husband, Emil Caius.

 

"My God-" Charlotte Henrietta exclaimed as she read the official missive. Reading it over and over again she repeated to herself, "Let it not be true, let it not be true, tell me this can't be true." While tears did not fall from her eyes, she pleaded with her husband to let her go and see her sister despite his worries of the roads. "I must be with her! That was her husband! He was a father-" She clasped her hand against her mouth at the thought, "Oh, Ottomar..."

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