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A LION CUT FROM THE PRIDE


SethWolf
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A LION CUT FROM THE PRIDE

 


 

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“VA VE MAAN.”

 

Issued by

THE VISCOUNTY OF NOVKURSAIN

On this 15th day of Vzmey ag Hyff of 499 E.S.

 


 

HERE BE THE WORDS OF VISCOUNT WALTER WEISS,

The Vikomital House of Weiss prides itself on tradition, duty, and familial bonds between members of our soldierly house. Such pride is one of the reasons we took the lion as our sigil. Like those beasts upon our sigil, we too believe deeply in loyalty to one’s family, for it is the very bedrock of who we are. 

 

It was my father, Ser Audo Weiss, who penned the Maxims of Pride: a simple codex that guides our family in all things, be that honor, duty, or humility before God. 

 

The First Maxim is thus: 

I. Unshakeable loyalty to the king, the family, and GOD shall be the foremost guides to all.

 

We have found that Haus Weiss-Vuiller has fallen far short of that Maxim. A loyal servant to the king and good Canonist he surely is. However, he has been absent in the lives of his own children and his obligation to be at his wife’s side for quite some time. 

 

Exceptions can of course be made in many of our Maxims, but the First Maxim is one that can not be excused or forgiven should one find themselves in violation, for it is the very foundational pillar of not only our peerage, but our duties as citizens of Haense. 


 

It is with our greatest displeasure that I must impose the following: 

 

Haus Weiss-Vuiller shall henceforth be stripped of his Weiss name, and shall also be severed from the line of inheritance entirely. He may walk these lands as a Vuiller, or a Schwarz, so long as he does not claim the name of our house. 

 

His wife and children are loyal servants to the kingdom and proud members of our family and therefore shall remain most welcome by our hearth as Weiss-Vuiller and Weiss respectively. 

 

Krusae zwy Kongzem.

 

 


 

 

IV JOVEO MAAN,

The Honorable, Lord Walter León Weiss, Viscount of Novkursain, Baron of Zvaervauld, Lord of Staalgrav, Deputy Palatine, and Marian of the King’s Own Retinue.

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His Excellency, Ser Audo Weiss, Jovenaar of the Crown, Armiger of the Brotherhood of Saint Karl, and Knight Paramount of the Order of the Crow

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Lord, Viktor Maximilian Weiss, Armsman of the Brotherhood of Saint Karl

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Johan Vuiller, the heir and Regent of house Vuiller arched a brow as he looked over the missive as he pondered “I would have wished they the Weiss had sent a word to us before their actions, as it is niet by their right to declare him a Vuiller simply because they strip him of their own name… maybe a meeting should take place around all this…” the tapped his fingers at his desk pondering the situation for a few moments before deciding to send a letter to the Weiss in the north, hoping for a friendly meeting and discussion. 

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Audo Weiss peered upon the missive and his signage with a deep sigh. Bringing it between his hands he simply sat back, staring at the ink: at what was lost and at what he could not forgive.

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Liridona Amador sighed, and offered a silent prayer for Haus' well being. However, no further thought was given, as she herself was not free to judge House Weiss for its actions.

 

Juniper, however, scowled as she found her student cast from his own family. "Their loss," She scoffed.

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Haus reads over the publication - again, and again. He can't make sense of it, he thinks, or he simply doesn't want to. 

 

Fallen Short

Absent

 

Can Not be Excused or Forgiven.

Duty

Greatest Displeasure.

 

Meaningless blotches of ink on parchment - mockeries of decades of agonizing, unending torment. Watching generations die - of age, of battle, of their own hands and sin - while he fought, and fought, and fought. Unrelenting, unyielding, unbreaking

 

And yet - regret burned hottest in his heart. He remembered the dream he had been entrusted with - the soft reassurance from his father, the last human to offer him something of a understanding of who he was, and meant to be. 

 

"A thousand years", He recalled the last conversation he had with Felix Weiss, embittered

 

"Weiss across the lands. You were never meant to be kept by the four walls of a koengzem."

 

That endless, cosmic gaze swept over the signatures. His Nephews, who could not know - and his Brother, who choose not to know. 

He could try and guess what was coming, but he was tired. And old - Sixty felt closer then ever, and he knew rest was not in sight. So with a heart that dared not freeze over again, and a tired lilt did that parchment find itself in his bag as the Watcher lingered onward.

 

He had resolved himself - if he could not bear the name of his Father,

He would bear none at all

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"Well, if there were ever any doubts you were my Daughter..."


Rosalind had paid little mind to such a phrase, for it had not been the first time he had proclaimed such to her - especially in light of her unruly temperament. However, for a reason she could not quite comprehend, as she scanned the missive published by her cherished family those words began to resurface. He was right, even if she should not like to admit it, she was unmistakably his child. Alas, that posed another question: Why had he so adamantly avoided her? Why had he left? He relentlessly assured her she had done nothing wrong, that he was proud of her but still the same question persisted, why?

She disregarded the papers, what's done is done, she would wipe her hands and be rid of the matter - or at least that is what she'd like to think.

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