The Righteous Walk Boldly

[Mady 3771]

 

 

 

Spoiler

The events within this post are only to be known in roleplay by those who were there. Please do not metagame :) 

 

 

Spoiler

https://youtu.be/txEI3PEOsPE?si=eJGS5jOrV6cK8gnW

Like many soldiers who found themselves braving the unknown of that festering portal beyond Valdev, Tatiyana found herself among a select few - mostly strangers aside from one or two familiar faces now covered by metal helms. Their descent into that labyrinth of blackened stone and necrotic left chances for much chaos to surround them or to deceive. Within a passing room, a glowing orb called out to them: ”Take me. . .” it thrummed within their minds. 

 

“Take it.” The cold voice of her uncle pulled Tatiyana back to her youth. Villorik’s lessons on morality and values appealed little to the little Ruthern in her youth, though she listened and observed. Yet, when it came time for her to hold a blade, her uncle had made it a challenge. “Take it.” He would repeat to her, as if it was some small feat for the girl. It was a simple challenge, though a challenge nonetheless. Tatiyana, knowing little skill at that age, simply jumped and chased Villorik, returning each time to being pushed down to try once again. Eventually she’d succeed, though after many, many tries.

 

¤ ✠ ¤

 

As screams would echo out and bounce off those blackened walls, the eerie feeling of eyes following each step that was taken seemed to grow ever more present. The darkness of the halls and the tunnels and crumbling fixtures of the tomb made it obvious that any light or spark of hope had been snuffed out and consumed by the darkness that billowed and welled up to create such an imposing and oppressive space. Tatiyana had grown accustomed to such places, yet each visit to such a dark place would come at an unpredicted cost. 

 

The lair of the Red Lich seemed to suck out all hope and soul within the air around it and within, no sign of GOD’s light remained, save for the brazen descendants and their raid against the undead and his cohorts. The memories of The Hexicanum crawled out of the hidden memories that Tatiyana worked so hard to suppress. The rat tunnels of corrupted magi, the flesh room and its living walls - even the death of her beloved uncle in front of her eyes at the hands of Gashadakuro, his claws harnessing power most evil would sell their souls to acquire. At Joakim’s side and with the Knight’s aid would Tatiyana make it out alive, though the mental cost was too much for a time. 

 

¤ ✠ ¤

 

With each step came a growing likelihood of cobble collapsing beneath her feet, the tomb far less sturdy and stable than it was worth, though the question truly was: was this worth it? Cracked bricks were held together by sheer willpower and the crumbling walls surrounding them had not but meager moments of survival left, lest a wind or vibration fill the chamber and force every creature and descendant within it to their grave. Tatiyana couldn’t help but watch those cracks in the floors and walls, as if awaiting their destruction to begin right before her very eyes. 

 

In contrast, the crypts of Vidaus seemed to stand still in time, their upkeep seen nearly every day and the cold halls of the tombs within had little dust nor age showing. It was there that Tatiyana found peace and solitude when she needed it most, or when she wished to speak but not have anyone listen nor respond. The bright, shining tomb of her mother was decorated with candles and flowers, each a sign of the Ruthern children visiting their mother, Mikhaila. She had been taken from them at such a young age, most of the children hardly remembering her or what she looked like. Tatiyana, being the eldest, needed only to look in the mirror and be reminded of her. That bright, shining coffin of Vidaus was a place of safety. . .a tomb of love and remembrance. 

 

¤ ✠ ¤

 

As the journey continued, all that was heard amongst their group was the cautious steps of boots against the cobblestone and the occasional muttering in distaste of their encounters. Death surrounded them in many forms - corpses, undead beasts and cursed objects all melded into the culture of the tomb, seemingly belonging in their very place for some time now. It was not until later their planned return to the surface did the chilling sound of a click echo through the foyer they stood within. 

 

Click. . .click. . .click! An awkward silence fell over the sitting room of the young Duchess as she sat across from an imposing figure who would eventually become her friend. Caius Primus sat just before Tatiyana, his ability to engage in conversation far surpassing hers, though his words held all the meaning the young girl needed. His advice and knowledge was so freely given yet treasured by her from girlhood to womanhood. It was Caius who first told her of what it meant to be righteous, and it was he who never left her evening prayers, even long after his passing. 

 

¤ ✠ ¤

 

One after the other did those blackened, necrotic arrows pierce the gray armor she wore so proudly, poking through the fabrics of her clothes beneath her and burying their ribbed points into her flesh. Seven arrows, one for each of the skies she so revered, spread through poisons into her muscles and blood, beginning to taint the woman’s very soul. Tatiyana heard little of what was spoken around her, panicked mutterings and guttural speech which she could hardly understand. Silently she begged for her life, for the light of day and to see her children once more outside of that blackened tomb. . .yet the with each second she lay there, blood pooling around her felled form, the darkness consumed more of her. The pain of poison and necrosis, burning and ceaseless blood loss soon reached the epitome of its result: 

 

Darkness.

 

Spoiler

 

I would firstly like to thank @PerfectlyPeachy and @GMRO for giving me the opportunity to play Tatiyana as their kid to @ContestedSnow for trusting me to lead Ruthern. It was an amazing experience and one I surely will not be forgetting anytime soon. I’d also like to thank everyone who I had the chance to interact with in roleplay for contributing to the story line of such a fun character (I would make a list but that would be longer than the actual post so you all know who you are!).

 

 

[libertyybelle 6187]

Ipera sat within her tower, high up within the cold embrace of Morteskvan. Her mother had been missing now for long enough, and as people came and went inside the castle to sort out her brother's ascent to Duke she sat. It was the first time the little girl had worn black, and it felt foreign to her. 
 

Her mother, although stern and sometimes harsh, loved her. Even despite the resentment she held, her mother was someone she deeply loved above all.

 

"Ea promise vy that vy will always stay safe with mea, safe and sound. Vyr mea daughter, the best of vyr papej and ea."

 

Who now was to keep her truly safe, who was to wipe her tears and comfort her when the world seemed too hard and scary to bear.

 

"Ea will be the best ever, mamej. And vy will be so proud of mea." Was what she had said, and now more than ever little Ipera meant it.

[MunaZaldrizoti 8037]

The Lady Palatine sat within the Karodur following word of the Duchess' death reaching her ear. Still, it baffled her how servants always seemed to know before all others.

 

Her emotions, as always, were conflicted. For the familial support they had forged, still she had never truly loved Tatiya. And perhaps, though she would never admit it, she had always feared her--the power she could've wielded upon her defiant little sister at any moment had she ever wished to. But that had been the heart hidden beneath all that armour. That is what she would remember Tatiyana for, even if all other memories were burdened with frustration and sorrow. The figure that had been guide to a band of orphans in Vidaus.

 

And now too did Tatiya get her greatest wish: to see their mother again.

[Legoboy7984 3155]

Sigmund Ludovar dips his head, upon hearing the news. Without delay, he made his way to the basillica. As he entered its halls he'd make way towards the alter, to which he would lit a candle, watching the flame flicker to life. "There were times to which we did niet always see eye to eye." he'd whisper, his gaze fixated on the flame. "But vyr service to this Kongzem was unwavering. Yet now Godani seems to have called vy to rest, Tatiyana, and with that vy should be proud of the legacy vy've built in this life. Niet just for this great Kongzem, but for House Ruthern as well."

As Sigmund spoke these words quietly, standing still as the flame continued to flicker, its small light casting shadows around him.

"May Godani Bless Tatiyana, and House Ruthern."

[HogoBojo 4725]

Henrik-Otto Jakob Ludovar would furrow a brow after receiving word about the Duchess' untimely demise, signing the Lorraine Cross. "May vy find eternal peace and joy in the Seven Skies. There is much ea wish we could've discussed further, alas rest now, as vy have done much for vyrself, vyr family, and the Kongzem." @Mady

 

 

Hogmund Jakob Barbanov-Bihar would seek out his best friend Ipera vas Ruthern after hearing many in New Valdev gossiping and discussing the recent news about the late Duchess of Vidaus. "E-ea must f-find Ipera." @libertyybelle

[TheBreak 45]

Upon his return from the day's adventures did the little Godferik learn the news. His still childish mind not able to accept the truth... but he knew this was no lie. His body forgetting the ability to breath for a moment that felt like an eternity.

 

He had no desire to return to the cold and dark halls of Morteskvan, and thus he went on his last adventure of the evening. His destination was where the People's Queen drew her last breath. The blond Ruthern sat by the roses where he would spend the remains of the day and utter his last goodbyes to his beloved mother.

[prophetisms 982]

In the sprawling hills of the Aestmarch a little girl sat within her own room. In her unmade bed, she stared at a paper. A letter, rather, inked with her aunt’s handwriting. “I believe we can learn a great deal from one another,” were the words that jumped out at Dszamila, in an invitation to ward under the Duchess of Vidaus. They did not match the past warnings of her own wary and worn down mother. They did, however, match the comfort afforded in the depths of Vidaus. “A little secret,” Tatiyana told Dszamila. “Those who make vy the most mad are those vy love the most.” When paired with a smile, the truth brought the little Korvacz niece out her sobs that night.

In the abrupt passing of Tatiyana vas Ruthern, Dszamila would be mad at her aunt for a while.

[Proddy 2415]

From the gargantuan halls of Morteskvan, a newly born child of raven hair and pallid blue eyes wept and wailed. Just as this night, and every night before, and for a dozen more nights to come - broken of leg and calf, destined to never walk. Pity upon the youngest of the Duchess's brood - a name of such potential, trapped in such an enfeebled body.

 

A wetnurse rushes in, hoisting the boy from his crib. In cradled arms does the serving woman hush and coo the misfortunate cripple, rocking him back and forth.

 

"Shh, shh... the pain is going away, Ivan. All the pain is going away..." she whispered in hushed tone. Still, the cries of the young Ivan Stanislaw, who the serving men and women of the castle had dubbed Breakbones for his macabre ailment, would not cease. They would not cease for another hour or two, at least. Perhaps, not at all.

 

The wetnurse gazed out toward an open window, the first flakes of a calm snowstorm beginning to drift from the skies, plummetting for the earth in gentle freefall.

 

It is a mercy. She thought then, gazing down at the babe bundled within his cloth. It is a mercy that he is too young to understand. The heart can only break once.

[Seuss 1056]

As the soft steps of the young Joren var Ruthern echoed down the halls of his empty home, his mind wandered the limited space of his conscious. Though his mother would no longer be in those halls he paced around in, and although his siblings will avoid those halls that haunt their family, the young boy felt more comfortable there in those halls then he did anywhere else. His small right hand dragged along the large crossbow he was so notably known for wielding wildly; however, he soon dropped it, leaving it behind on the rug while he took to the outer balcony of Morteskvan that led up to his room.

The cold air encircled the boy as the northern mountain winds slammed against black stone and brittle cobble. His cheeks burning pink as blood rushed up his face. The steps he took no longer echoed as the sounds around him were overcome with howls of frost-riding winds. As he reached the large spruce door that kept the warmth locked in his bedroom, he finally raised a hand to grasp the ferrum lock. The silent little Ruthern turned the handle and opened the door, inviting the cold that follows as he stepped in and promptly closed the spruce once more. For many days to come, that door would remain shut. Not a word heard inside.

[ivery 591]

On the quieter days, Deia remembers generations past. Of children growing up, their innocent laughter dimming into grit and determination. They fall in love, they have their own children.

 

Each of them die in the end. They die for their King and his kingdom, for the safety of all, for good.

 

As news of her passing travels the realm, Deia takes one of those quieter days to sit outside alone, away from her family and their lively reverie. She knows that her comrades will mourn Tatiyana as a fellow warrior, and that her children will mourn her as a stern but caring mother. That is for the best, that they remember her so- but she will not. No, when she closes her eyes, she remembers how young she was when they met. How small she'd been, yet how she'd kept her back as straight as any proper lady, a paradox of chubby cheeks and steel eyes.

 

She misses that child, and every child who grew up alongside her - for even distant as they grew, with malice and distrust, she still thinks of Tatiyana as one of hers - like an open wound. The memories feel just as fresh. Tatiyana and Svetlana, squabbling over their bruises, of their family's right, when she knew it to be wrong. Tatiyana and all of her friends following after the Patriarch to Hallowcliffe's ruins, learning of times past. Tatiyana sitting beside her at the spring festival, dour and surly when Lorcan did not dance with her. Tatiyana, alone and bitter and with a son. Tatiyana hosting Reza's wedding- a quiet thank you, and nothing more, for all the words that could never be said.

 

She wishes she had said them now. More than anything. But she did not- and so she weeps, until a quiet day turns to night.

[Terry 2680]

"Such was not as it were supposed to be," thought Sigmar, a feeling of unease and anxiety gripping him that morning, feelings he was entirely unaccustomed to from any point in his life until now.

 

"Where is Tatiyana?" He'd keep asking himself, having both said the question and heard it repeatedly over the past few days. It was the beginning of what would become a very long day.

 

When the news was finally broken to him, it was as if the world he'd become so accustomed to had broken in half. No longer would he find his sister out and about Valdev, no longer would they speak earnestly and honestly, and no longer would he have one of his favorites to turn to in time of need. This time of need, specifically.

 

It was the makings of a very solemn day, as he thought back to their last conversation and patted the letter in his tunic pocket. A Last Will and Testament, declaring he was to become the Lord-Regent of Vidaus, in the event of Tatiyana's untimely demise, set to watch over the Duchy and the Duke-to-be Dmitry, until a time as he was old enough to inherit those lands fully. 

 

He didn't know if he could do it, nor was he prepared for that Will to actually be of any use, but he planned to do his best, at least in honor of his elder sister. Or so he thought anyhow, as he clumsily got himself ready and sprinted out his door to that Herzenvrest, looking worse for wear.

[Dramatude 861]

Adelina van Leuven stood alone in the corridor, the stone walls cold against her skin. The news of Tatiyana's passing had been delivered to her by a breathless servant, and yet, the weight of it hadn't fully settled. The weight of Tatiyana’s death pressing heavily on her chest. For years, she had dismissed the woman—sharp, commanding, always drawing attention with her fierce determination. Yet now, as the news settled in, she realized her feelings hadn’t been rooted in hate but in envy. Tatiyana had embodied everything Adelina admired: boldness, unwavering duty, and a relentless drive to lead her family to success. They had both struggled against the same challenges, fighting to prove their worth in a world that often underestimated them, yet had never acknowledged the shared burden they carried.

 

"I never hated you," Adelina whispered into the silence, her voice tinged with regret. "I envied you." The words felt heavy and bittersweet, echoing in the empty hallway.

 

Tatiyana was gone, and with her, any chance to reconcile their complicated relationship or express the respect that had lingered unspoken between them. The realization stung deeper than she expected, for she now understood that Tatiyana had faced her own battles with the same ferocity that Adelina had learned to wield.

 

"I hope you knew," she added softly, her heart tightening with grief for the lost connection and the opportunity for understanding that would never come. "May Godan's embrace keep you ever warm in the Seven Skies."

[DahStalker 3692]

Dame Yvaine was not one for long poetic reflections, or one to dwell on the past. But she was not of arrogant mind either when it came to such relevant figures in her life. The woman paused, and ordered two drinks that night in the bar: a simple toast. “To a good woman.” 

[Cheese 8892]

Esfir, though far from Haense, thought back on the Duchess she had known, even if in passing. "She was a woman of great renown. Of honor," She spoke to her youngest, whom she held in her lap. "She was there for me in my darkest hours and offered her support and assistance, even though we were niet close.. and she made history in her own right." And so, the d'Arkent signed the lorraine for the deceased Duchess and prayed for her rest. For Tatiyana, like all strong and remarkable women, deserved it.

[woke 1159]

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO