A Lackluster Triumph

[MRCHENN 4741]

Spoiler

 

 

 

The Free City of Chambery, as depicted by Ser Tiber of the Nauzica

 

Atop the hill which overlooked Chambery, Sir Jon de Lewes inspected the flowing river before him. The hustle and bustle of the city was quite paranormal today, given the events which had recently transpired. The capital - it was too much for him. He preferred the peace and quiet of nature’s recluse.

 

“What now, Jon?” 

 

The Duke of Valfeur, Adrian of Temesch, mumbled these words to him, his bulging face embarrassingly filled with the meat of the hunt they had just hunted days prior.

 

“I don’t know, Adrian. I was ready to go to war, for what we wanted. I had written my letters, my will - even prayed. God, that Aaunish Gambit ruined everything!” He swung a rock across the water in anger. It teetered on the surface of the river, before sinking.

 

“I was supposed to be a drunken thug, and you: a sellsword? And now, we’ve liberated these people from war and tyranny. The Commonwealth looks to us now. I just wanted it all to end.” The fat lord rose from the base of the tree upon which he sat, his cheeks turning red in the great effort it took.

“Seriously, how did we get here?”

 

Jon fondly recalled his time in the hamlet of Enswerp. Those countless days of relaxed farming, soon turned to laborious war strategy and scouting missions against the Commonwealth of the Petra. And then Adrian had found him, ennobling the fellow Savoyard as his first knight and chief advisor. He spoke to him greatly about his dreams for the people he meant to lead: not two states, but one; not two identities, but one constitution.

 

And then words of that fateful night the King of Aaun demanded the Queen of Petra to swear fealty to him instead - breaking the accord of unity that Adrian made with the King. Everything was dismantled from there. 

 

“It should have gone differently.” says Adrian with a furrowed brow, anger ruminating his features. “To test our strength like that and then cower at the first signs of it? Charles was afraid. He had to have been.”

 

Jon rose then, shaking his head with a plain look over his face, simply turning to Adrian. “They all did, Adrian, every last one of them. Why do you think Charles immediately banished us, the moment you sought peace with Adalia, and pledged her to the Constitution? And then, all the fabricated lies about your affinity for Blackvale!”

 

“They knew the potential of what we could have been, what we are. If we had our way, there would have been no peace until he bent the knee, and the Heartlands was ours.” The Savoyard said very matter of factly, slinging the sheath of his grandfather’s blade over his shoulder.

 

”What are you suggesting?” Spoke Adrian, a sense of relief and reassurance washing over him from the words of the Savoyard. His eyes narrow, and his lips curling into a wry grin.

 

Jon had nothing more to say, the ancestral Ashford plate he adorned creaking at every step he took.

 

“Nothing yet. But, I’m afraid this is where we part ways for now.”

 

His eyes fixated eastward, beginning his march to where Drusco once was. The once unsure demeanor of Adrian was now certain.

 

“Until the next.” 

 

[gavyn 1362]

w post  w chenn w nectorist w oren

[Nectorist 12869]

After parting ways with Sir Jon, Adrian returns to the burned husk of his childhood home: the Courteis Hale. His father was dead. His sister was dead. The pieces of Valfleur would have to be picked up. Peace permitting, the rest of his days would be marked by diligence, quiet, and certainty.

[alienescence 1415]

Catherine decided to write a letter to her brother Jon, out of the blue.

[Enlightenment 2295]

"I do-a wish them well in their attempts at constitutionalizing Petra, I'm-a sure it won't be a nail biting affair at all," Emilio Varoche said, his horse trotting upon his journey back to Ves, a messenger boy catching up with him, a royal seal upon the letter, "Though it would've been nice if we had a tad more-a excitement," the Roach opened the letter, scanning it, before giving his horse a nudge towards Whitespire, "It-a seems duty still calls me."

[ydegirl 2357]

Somewhere, Margot of Virdain, aunt to Jon of Virdain, rode her horse. She had not cared about Aaun or the Heartlands in years, but she had heard about the strife. Somehow, one way or another, it reached Margot's ears that her nephew had participated in the strife, rebelling against the Petran Queens of yore. Her horse, which was a mediocre grey with lazy white spots splattered about, came to a halt at the front of her hovel. She groaned, shimmied off the horse, ambled into her house and began to pen a letter to Jon. It read:

 

"Jon of Virdain,

 

My mother once told my brother, Henri, that you cannot escape your mothers blood. But, I hear from friends now that you've escaped the insanity of your father and mother before you.

 

Margot."

 

She flung some few golden coins to a courier, telling him to deliver it to the Barony of Virdain. The courier obliged, getting on his muddy-brown horse, galloping away.