YOU MAKE YOUR OWN HEAVEN AND HELL

[Moenah 1019]

 

 

I do not own ANY of the artwork.

The original artists are credited.

 

 

 

[John Martin c. 1841]

 

 

MY UNFOUNDED ACCUSATIONS have required me to refrain from my pen and confine myself to the boundaries of Merryweather. But I can not be imprisoned, and I cannot be silenced. I suppose that many would have preferred just that—just another silenced woman, as it were. I inquire the citizens of Aaun, who supposedly yearn to be “free of political burden and secure peace,” how safe do you truly feel? All those that the crown deemed as outlaws have eluded their clutches thrice. Firstly, Ottomar von Augusten, a vampyric creature and recognized terrorist. Then, it was the Queen Mother and myself. When those entrusted with keeping those they arrest are unable to even prevent their escape, can you still harbor faith in their capability, in the face of an impending threat of war?

 

Your crown alone cannot assure your safety, especially when the most imminent threat festers within the heart of your kingdom, orchestrating its demise. I refrained from uttering their name outright, but I shall do so now. If they can act so boldly, I, too, will proceed without fear. The Margraviate of Stassion has continuously fostered intentions to bring your kingdom to ruin. If ever was there an act so impudent, a testament to everything I last said, it was their boldness at court just days past. By constructing a narrative that elevates their fallen comrade to a martyr, they create a conflict that benefits them, regardless of the outcome. 

 

Firstly, in the event that the Kingdom of Aaun and its Heartlander allies heed the plea contained in their hastily composed missive, rife with grammatical lapses, Aaun shall place itself in a conflict it cannot prevail in without aid. Those who rally by them will rally under the banner of “self-defense”. Aaun lacks military might; what it possesses are decentralized militias raised by their vassals. In the case of Stassion, these militias’ loyalty often lean toward the lords of their vassal territories, whom they regard as their true sovereigns, more so than the sovereign of their own nation. Should the Kingdom of Aaun lose this conflict, the lords of Stassion shall not be far behind, close at hand to take up the mantle and reclaim the kingdom they lost so recklessly half a century ago—a goal they have pursued since that bygone fall.

 

Secondly, if Aaun remains dormant and disregards the pleas of these Stassion men, they will see it as a grievous injustice. They will allege their King and his council have failed to protect the well-being of their kingdom’s denizens. This perceived injustice will incite a rebellion, for if the people cannot find protection in the Crown, they shall be compelled to seek their own means of defense. The events of the Harvest Revolution shall echo themselves once more, and Aaun, by failing to learn the lessons of the past, shall have crafted their own heaven and hell on this very realm—the age of the Usurper upon us once again. Thankfully, despite both these outcomes, if there is one thing Stassions are remembered for, it is not winning wars.

 

When the realm hears the drums of war, will the people of Aaun gather arms for a man who contributed naught to their kingdom, nor to them, but only to the will of the house that ruled him in life? Will they stand united for a lord who thinks only of the legacy of his fallen lineage over their welfare? Will they be sure that their own King even wears his crown—or have the Stassions taken that as well? For the same King they serve, who is too young to even hold a voice of his own or represent the wishes of his people, sentenced his own mother and blood to imprisonment. And if blood is not safe—something so dear and sacred as House Dresnay proclaims—what, then, shall be done to the people of Aaun?

 

Your days dwindle, men of Stassion. The world has borne witness. The world knows your true nature. You hurl only jeers in my presence because you know what will become of you should you dare strike first. You know what will come for you. Fear courses through you, and I sense it. I heard how a man of Stassion challenged the King's courage before his entire court. I heard how the men of Stassion fled when he answered.

 

If you wish to speak of balls, here we stand—solve the issue yourselves like the men you claim to be, instead of fleeing behind the safety of your masters. You are right; what honor is there in butchering innocents? Only Iblees benefits from the senseless deaths of Canonist men. Is the loss of innocent life not the reason you call for action? Does the death of Louis Dresnay actually mean anything to your people? If you are so certain the King of Haense has no courage, here is your chance to show the world that you do.

 

To the Margrave of Stassion, the Prince of Nothing, if you have been receiving my gifts, I pray you use them to put an end to your own prolonged life, as well as your lineage who has drained the energy of the realm for far too long.

 

I WATCH, AND I WAIT.

 

HER HIGHNESS, Aleksandra of Vidaus, Princess of Merryweather and the Rhine,

Landgravine of Alstreim, Baroness of Corwinsburg, Lady of Blackwater

[venclair 689]

IN THE DIMLY LIT CHAMBER, a somber atmosphere enveloped Lauretta as she meticulously dissected the small, lifeless bird upon the table. Shadows cast eerie silhouettes on the cold stone walls, a pungent scent hanging heavy in the air. Steady hands were at work, a blade gliding delicately to expose what was concealed within. It was then a solemn voice came from the doorway, her mistress bidding for her assistance; a new task for the wretched woman. Once more, they return to their pens, Lauretta disposing of her bloodied gloves as she left feathers and remnants of the bird scattered across the table.

[Trey 226]

The Archlich Aratakrast peered upon the missive and gripped it with boney claws, crushing it upon reading it.

 

"These petty kingdoms will bring destruction upon themselves, without me even needing to lift a finger.. Pathetic."

 

Aratakrast peered upward to a bubbling brew of green liquid, sizzling within a giant pot. He moved to turn a paddle within it.

[LithiumSedai 4837]

29 minutes ago, Moenah said:

All those that the crown deemed as outlaws have eluded their clutches thrice.

The Marshal of Merryweather, Walter Vanderrecht, locks himself inside his own cell, then uses a "soulstone" in the "off hours" to miraculously evade his self-imposed imprisonment.

Truly, the incompetence of Aaunic guardsmen knows no bounds.

 

 

[Bonito 2264]

4 hours ago, venclair said:

 

 

Willem made his way into the kitchen for some soup, but the only thing on the table is a pile of crow bits. He sighed, going to find a broom and bucket.

[ReveredOwl 5331]

"Truly, the missive from Louis' brother came up within seconds after he vanished in a puff of smoke after running from the court, the missive was obviously pre-written, only the blind can not see this for what it is." remarked Ser Andrik.

[Eryane 3629]

As Aurelia of Stassion paced through the grand dimmed halls of her residence amidst her family's lands, she clutched the missive delivered by Aleksandra of Vidaus. Even though it was probable that her kin had concealed it, ignored and made fire of it, the child scrutinized the reproaches towards her father incessantly, her gaze fixated upon the script until her eyes wearied from the effort.

 

Intrigued of the world beyond and captivated by the writer's criticisms, Aurelia, who had seldom ventured beyond the comforts of her home, peered to the enclosed window as her mind was then adrift in a sea of musings. 

 

Spoiler

such a good song had to write a response

 

Edited November 1, 2023 by Eryane

[Franczhiz 4053]

"Mother, why does she sound like one of angry palace maids? I can not read at all! But the bold writings definetly sound like angry and paranoid screaming to me!" Stated the Prince Frederick Amadeus.

@Marshi