FRIEDRICH THE OLD | 2022 [PK]

[DuhPuhWuh 1282]

 

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ᴡᴇ ᴄʀʏ ᴡɪᴛʜᴏᴜᴛ ᴄᴇᴀꜱɪɴɢ, ᴏ’ ʟᴏʀᴅ, ᴛᴏ ʏᴏᴜʀ ꜰᴀᴛʜᴇʀʟʏ ɢᴏᴏᴅɴᴇꜱꜱ

ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴍɪɢʜᴛ ꜱᴀɴᴄᴛɪꜰʏ ᴏᴜʀ ᴋɪɴᴅᴇʀ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴅɪᴠɪɴᴇ ʙʟᴇꜱꜱɪɴɢꜱ.

ᴅʀɪᴠᴇ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴛʜᴇᴍ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏ ɪɴꜰʟᴜᴇɴᴄᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴇᴠɪʟ ꜱᴏ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴍᴀʏ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ ɢᴏᴏᴅ ʜᴇᴀʟᴛʜ ᴀɴᴅ ʙᴇ ꜰᴜʟʟ o’ ᴠɪɢᴏᴜʀ,

ᴛᴏ ɢɪᴠᴇ ᴘʀᴀɪꜱᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴀɴᴋꜱ ᴜɴᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇᴇ, ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴀɴᴄᴛɪꜰɪᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ᴘʀᴇꜱᴇʀᴠᴇʀ ᴏꜰ ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜɪɴɢꜱ.

 

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A storm raged over Rikardsburg, seat of the Augusten margravate, heavy rain hammered against its steep, pallid walls and howling winds swelled through the halls of the keep. The river Petra, far below,  expanded from the downpour and pushed its dark waters against the valley cliffs with a virile temper. Schwyz was quiet that tempestuous night, word of war had sent off many Schwyzers as levies and those who remained kept themselves cloistered in their homesteads, for fear of any parties in search of blood or plunder. Memories of the coalition war haunted the eldest of the Solland province, including the elder Margrave, who had been a combatant in the coalition war.

 

In his lone margravial chambers rested Friedrich von Augusten, a dull fire burnt at the coals in the hearth adjacent to his tester bed. Hushed devotions for penance escaped him, between each wheezy breath. He carried the lorraine of his late but favourite cousin, Alrisha, a token she had received for her devote service to the old Petrine order of Julianites. He grappled the thing tightly, clutching it with his swollen yet wrinkled hands pressed against his tight chest. The Margrave had long been suffering from ailments due to his age, and large size, but had lived many years past what even he believed was possible. Where many of his peers had long passed, nations fallen and arisen, his own place of birth, Whitespire and the United Kingdom of Aaun, were now dust and becoming increasingly distant memories, yet he still held breath, a breath that came with an adventitious wheeze, but his decrepit person had outlasted many.

 

Friedrich had been suffering a quiet sorrow as he continued to outlive his own strength. The elder Vander had watched his infirm form endure a slow decay of health, the tightening of joints and the ceaseless ache and pains in his bloated legs; it was a cruel fate, to die old. The weight of years had tired him to no end, not just from his failing body or the laboured breath, but in the solitude that settles in his heart. Friends had passed, the world had moved on, yet pain remained, a constant companion in the long, empty hours of waiting. He felt little dignity in his lingering existence, he might not have shown it for the wellbeing of his children and grandchildren, but for many months he had only felt the dull, relentless suffering of his body too stubborn to die.

 

The great Margrave had endured through the troubles of his family, as a boy, he had lived the humbling existence of the refugee and yet in his long years he had achieved heights unfathomed for his kinship. Now, the revered arbiter of the Margravate of Schwyz, an achievement his progeny, he prayed, would bear with honour and servitude. He had forever been a faithful man, his first master was always The Almighty, and he had been since boyhood. Indeed, as a sickly, bedridden boy, he had ever hoped to serve 𝕲𝖔𝖙𝖙 with not just spirit but his very being, yet He had intended his servant Friedrich to be a steward of lands not a man of the cloth. In truth he felt his greatest success had been to raise his kinder well, for where he may have had to tolerate hardship, he hoped, they might never struggle. He, the eldest of living Augustens had marked the family with his zeal, the family would surely ever be in service to Church, Sacred Laws of Waldenia and 𝕲𝖔𝖙𝖙.

 

The humble servant laid there, and suddenly he felt a rising tightness in his chest then a piercing pressure came from beneath the ribs of his rotund torso. The patriarch ceased his pennant prayers to exhale sharply, he shifted himself with a loud huff, the chambers creaked at his every movement, then came his panic-struck pleas “Penance, Penance, Penance, Penance…” Yet it was futile, for then came a sudden and crushing force that overwhelmed him. As though his heart had been pulled from out of his chest, his hands pawed forth clawing and convulsing in an attempt to appease his pain. A pain unlike any tore through him and he felt as though he had been pulled in twine, his breath hitched and stifled.

 

His great body lurched as his frail heart gave to the weight of his years. In a final attempt he half opened his mouth but no cry escaped, only a rattled choking wheeze. Then he felt numbness spreading through him and his vision blurred, the dim shadows of the hearth twisted into daggered shapes until blackness was all he could see. Then a final sickening crack echoed from deep within his chest, all came to an end. The storm had still been beating through Solland, the winds howling outside and then for a few beats there was absolute stillness, and the world held its breath. The storm cleared for a moment and the soft silver light of the night’s moon poured over Rikardsburg, and the river Petra gleamed, all was calm. It was almost as though the skies themselves had noticed the sudden passing and were beckoning his spirit forth.

 

Yet though the life of Friedrich had left his grey corpse there was a silent peace at that moment and all was good. Once the winds had turned the storm returned, bellowing through and against the keep once more, the bells of Rikardsburg, and beyond, rang as knells that could be heard throughout Solland and further on to Vallagne. All that could be done was to hope all the prayers Friedrich had committed in his long life might come to fruition, for he was now passed.

 

 

 

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Issued by the

✠  𝕸𝖆𝖗𝖌𝖗𝖆𝖛𝖆𝖙𝖊 𝖔𝖋 𝕾𝖈𝖍𝖜𝖞𝖟  ✠

10th of Sigismund's End, 

The Year of Our Lord, 2022. 

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𝔗he Last Will and Testament of  𝔉riedrich ℌans 𝔳on 𝔄ugusten

Margrave of Schwyz & Vanderfell, 17th Lord Vandalore, Grandmaster of the Reformed Vandorian Order & the Order of the Black Eagle, Count of Hohengarten, Lord of Rikardsburg, Patriarch of House von Augusten, Elector of Hohengarten & Deacon of Casica — by the grace of 𝕲𝖔𝖙𝖙, LORD keep him!

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✠

A Prayer for the deceased.

 

O’ Holy GOTT, incline Your ear, unto our prayers.

We humbly pray You to show Your mercy upon the soul of Your servant Friedrich, 

Whom Thou hast commanded to pass out of this world, that Thou wouldst place him in the region of peace and light, and bid him be a partaker with Your Saints and Seven Skies.

 

Amen.

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I,  𝕱𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖉𝖗𝖎𝖈𝖍 𝕳𝖆𝖓𝖘 𝖛𝖔𝖓 𝕬𝖚𝖌𝖚𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖓 , 

do commend my spirit and soul to the Almighty 𝕲𝖔𝖙𝖙; mein creator, mein saviour. 

May His Saints Godwin, Charles, Daniel, Michael, King Caius, Rhosyn & High Pontiff Caius, keep my soul well and protect it, as it passes unto, I do pray, the Seven Skies. 

May all His Aenguls, Archaenguls and Saints safeguard my soul through it all, or may 𝕲𝖔𝖙𝖙 save me.

 

By my right in Petran law, as the Margrave of Schwyz, and by his right as the appointed heir of Schwyz, the Viscount of Azor; all of my lands, wealth, authority and responsibility as a peer of the river realm, and as for when I was living Margrave of Schwyz, Count of Hohengarten & Lord of Rikardsburg, do grant, afford and pass, in full faith und clear mind, all previously named, unto Lord 𝔎𝔬𝔫𝔰𝔱𝔞𝔫𝔱𝔦𝔫 𝔏𝔢𝔬𝔫 𝔳𝔬𝔫 𝔄𝔲𝔤𝔲𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔫. He shall be executor and hold sole authority on the matter of Friedrich von Augusten’s inheritance, where he is charged to fulfil the final wishes and desires of I, the deceased, to the best of his ability.

 

Once confirmed as the Margrave of our lands, Lord Konstantin shall be graced with the grand honour of taking the seat of the Augusten Patriarchate, and so in tandem assumes the responsibility of the Elector of Hohengarten. May he protect and defend all current and past Augustens, her sister-cadet house of von Leopold and further cadet of Falkner, defend their liberty and be home for them should it be necessary.

 

Upon my death our body ist to be dressed in the arms deserving of the Lord Vandalore and Grandmaster of the Vandorian Order, that of the Vander Knights, and placed in a coffin to be displayed in the Chapel of Saint Michael, for a period of time, where mourners and travelers may pay their respects to our earthly body.

 

Whence the period of mourning has been satisfied, my remains are to be blessed and prepared for funerary rites. The funeral ceremonies shall be committed within the Chapel of Saint Michael by a clergyman of Owynist rite, for as I had lived by the Owynsiah’s way, I wish to be commemorated for such. Our remains shall be destroyed by funeral pyre, wherein a portion of the ashes shall be stored in an urn that shall be offered as a gift to the Waldenic Diet. This, an act of final commitment, and memory, to our service to the Diet as Elector of Hohengarten, and later Lord Vandalore. It is our hope that insofar as the successes of our Vandaloreship may allow, this portion of our remains shall find rest in the newly constructed chantry, whence it is completed. The remaining ashes are to be stored alongside the other members of House von Augusten, and her cadets, in the crypts of Rikardsburg, where I shall finally be laid to final rest.

 

All family treasures, namely The Novellen Ruby (of 1827), The Azorite Stone Bracelet (of 1817) etcetera, are granted unto Lord Konstantin von Augusten, the executor, may he protect them and keep them well. As to be decided at the discretion of the executor, individual items may be distributed amongst our immediate family, with conditions that they shall be restored to the Augusten main line, and not lost to further succession, so they may be kept for the future generations of the Vander house of von Augusten.

 

On matters regarding mein blessed eye and arm, they are to be removed from our dead body and placed aside to be inherited, as per our wishes. Whereas, our mechanical arm and all its appendages are to be brought into status of a treasure of our noble family, our eye is to be gifted unto the Lord Edward Cecilius Alstion. As his 𝕲𝖔𝖙𝖙-father it shall be a mark of mein commitment to his gutte education, for may he remember our legacy as one for peace and wise choices. Let us pray it shall nicht be of use to any other than myself.

 

Several donations are to be made from the inheritance of our wealth. An anonymous donation of several marks are to be made to the cloistered monastics of the Monastery of Saint Rhosyn, for the commission of icons in reverence to the Saints Michael, the patron of our noble house von Augusten, and Saint Julia, patron saint of mothers. Alongside other minor donations, a fund is to be made with wealth accrued by this will for the eventual construction of the township of Konstadt, this, to be decided by my executor.

 

The remainder of all our moveable goods and other personal effects, after my testament fulfilled, are bequeath to be entirely disposed of by my executor in works of charity for the gutte of my soul; such as in the celebration of masses, distribution to poor people, repairs to bridges and roads, and other pious uses. Lord Konstantin’s own gutte judgement will be most pleasing to 𝕲𝖔𝖙𝖙 and most profitable for the salvation of mein own soul and souls of mein kinship.

 

✠  𝕲𝖔𝖙𝖙 𝕾𝖊𝖌𝖓𝖊  ✠

 

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Signed,

 

The Most Honourable, 𝕱𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖉𝖗𝖎𝖈𝖍 𝕳𝖆𝖓𝖘 𝖛𝖔𝖓 𝕬𝖚𝖌𝖚𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖓, 

Margrave of Schwyz & Vanderfell, Lord Vandalore, Grandmaster of the Reformed Vandorian Order and the Order of the Black Eagle, Count of Hohengarten, Lord of Rikardsburg, Patriarch of House von Augusten, 

Elector of Hohengarten & Deacon of Casica.

[Lalosia 988]

Theodosya, the aged widow - and now Dowager-Margravine of Schwyz, sat underneath her favored tree within Augusten's keep. One hand clutched at her stomach, the other pressed firmly against the earth beneath her. 

 

"Asere omarv auwen, julai. Ea ziedenmar find tea razmal." cried out she, gray hair loose in the wind that whipped around her form.

[scarahpot 385]

Aloisa von Augusten remained in the keep's chapel for days on end, the incense burning traveled like smoke outside the slightly opened windows. Kneeling by the altar she prayed, though death was not uncommon for the woman it still took a piece from her each time.

[FireAGN 1207]

Konstantin Leon, the new Patriarch of House von Augusten aged almost 60 years old himself, sent out his father's will and testament with a somber heart. It was the first time he had ever felt truly alone, with his house and family, to lead all by himself. He cried for long hours in the safety and privacy of his chambers, all alone, before finally penning an announcement of death, for his lifelong mentor and father. In this time, he would promise to do his best to continue leading the family to great things. 

[Cheese 8883]

Esfir, upon hearing the news, quickly turned out of Portoregne. Her vision was swimming; it was blurred with tears. Her steps picked up, sprinting down the streets. It was only when one of her servants caught up with her horse did she switch her method of transportation, galloping upon her steed all the way to Schwyz. When she arrived, Esfir burst through the doors in tears, in search of both the late Margrave and the widowed Margravine.

 

To Esfir, Friedrich was more than an uncle. He was her father, when she had none. Rickardsburg had been her haven and home before Balian, and now, it felt empty without him. The aging Duchess, who still appeared no older than 20, collapsed into the arms of her Aunt Theodosya, spending the night in unbecoming tears as she grieved Friedrich.

Spoiler

Thank you for adopting me kind of 😔 Friedrich was an incredible character and I'm so honored to have been part of his story. Good luck in Alba, man!

 

[ChainedDragons 1374]

Hart did not know the family well but he felt a pang of sorrow for them. To lose ones family in such trying times was difficult. He wouldn't wish that pain on anyone. He had read a book recently on flowers.. he sent some.

White Hyacinths.

[ibiou 2397]

The Waldenic books that the Lord Vandalore had given the Princess-consort of Merryweather sat stacked on her bedside. She had not let them collect dust as they had moved across the continent, taking her time to read them when the time permitted her to. When news reached Octavia on a harsh winter's day, she could only sympathise with Aloisa, Franz, and the Waldenic Diet. That night she took to the books again, only this time tracing her finger on the printed sentences; praying, hopeful for the future.

[Lirinya 4021]

Cosima had long since grown out of lighting candles for loved ones. But on this evening, she recalled her uncle fondly for the memories she had of him. How had once taken her to his keep a day the then young Temesch had sorely begged for a day without Vallagne's walls.

 

Without him that day, she wagered- looking back, she might have gone stir crazy. It was the day she realized many things in truth. About family and their care for one another.

 

She equally recalled the eve they had hosted a celebration for her brother, who had grown her Uncles ward and then vanished into obscurity. The festivities were spent mostly hidden within the keeps shadow-ladened halls pending some sort of raid, but the youth had long since fallen asleep well before learning of its conclusion.

 

They had grown distant as Cosima had aged, sadly. Disagreements and such, you know how it is. Families do that, particularly when they are not close. But in moments like this, you can often forget the bad times.

 

So, today, in the houseboat she rented in the Portoregne canals, she offered a silent thanks for the Uncle he had once been.

[TaraJess 2848]

Johanna Vuiller frowned as she read over the missive detailing the Vanderlord's death. He had always been kind to her, and even traveled all the way south for her wedding. She pattered down the stairs of her home, paper in hand, to find her husband, surely he would want to hear of such news.

[JudgeTrudy 610]

Theodore Elwood read over the missive announcing Lord Friedrich’s passing with a solemn frown. Seated within the quiet of his private residence, the former Grand Speaker of the Garmont Assembly lingered in silence, allowing the weight of the news to settle upon him. His thoughts turned to the many years he had known Friedrich—of the early days in the Petran government before the ill-fated Confederation, and of their brief entanglement in the folly of 'dumocracy.' He recalled his first impressions of the late Margrave within the old Town Hall, where a younger, more impassioned Theodore had dismissed him as a heartless zealot. How distant those days seemed now, when he himself stood at the precipice of eighty.
 

With time, and through the trials that shaped their Commonwealth, Theodore had come to see Friedrich in a different light. In the final days of the Confederation and the return of Petra’s sovereignty, their paths had intertwined more closely, forging a bond tempered by duty and respect. Though they had not always seen eye to eye, Theodore had long since set aside any lingering grievances, replaced instead with an abiding admiration for Friedrich’s unwavering sense of loyalty, his sharp mind, and his steadfast devotion to his country. He had been an ally in the chamber and beyond, a statesman of rare caliber, and now, with his passing, Petra had lost one of its greatest sons.
 

After a time spent in quiet reflection, Theodore took up his quill and set to writing a letter of condolence to the new Margrave, Lord Konstantin von Augusten. As he penned the final words, he set the parchment aside, bowed his head, and clasped his aged hands in prayer.

 

"May Lord Friedrich find eternal rest, happiness, and reward within the Seven Skies. May he look down upon his family with the knowledge he has left them with all they could need and more. And may he always know that countless souls, my own included, were made better and brighter by his existence. In God's name, amen."

The letter sent to Konstantin Leon von Augusten, for @FireAGN:

Spoiler

To Konstantin Leon von Augusten,
Margrave of Schwyz, Count of Hohengarten, Lord of Rikardsburg, and Patriarch of House von Augusten,
 

It is with the heaviest of hearts that I write to you. The news of your father’s passing has only just reached me here in the countryside, and I have spent much time in solemn reflection upon the man he was and the legacy he leaves behind. I offer my deepest condolences to you, your family, and all who mourn him. May God, in His infinite mercy, grant Lord Friedrich eternal rest within the Seven Skies. I have no doubt that he now looks upon you and your House with immense pride and joy.
 

Your father was a man of remarkable character—unyielding in conviction, steadfast in duty, and possessed of a wit and tenacity that few could match. I confess that, in our earliest days within the Garmont, I often found myself at odds with him. Yet time has a way of tempering youthful judgments, and in the many years that followed, I came to hold him in the highest esteem. Though we were not bound by kinship, I considered him, in no small way, a mentor and a friend. His absence leaves a void within my heart that shall not soon be filled.
 

In the days to come, you and your House will face trials both known and unforeseen. The war that now engulfs our Commonwealth is but one of many burdens that shall test your resolve. But if there is one thing I know with certainty, it is that you are your father’s son. You bear his name, his legacy, and, I do not doubt, the same strength that saw him through times of crisis and hardship. It is my earnest hope that, through the fires of these troubled days, you shall lead with the same honor and wisdom that defined him.
 

Know that my prayers are with you, with your kinsmen who take up arms in defense of Petra, and with all who stand against the tide of war. May your tenure as Patriarch, though born in an era of strife, find its way to an age of peace and prosperity. And may the memory of your father ever serve as a guiding star.
 

God bless you, and God bless Friedrich Hans von Augusten.

Sincerely,
Theodore Elwood

To DuhPuhWuh:
 

Spoiler

Friedrich as a character was one who I have come to enjoy so much over the past year. I regret not reaching out to roleplay with him privately more. I hope you've been super satisfied in playing Friedrich, and in establishing a legacy with him that I am sure will last for quite a long time. I'm super excited to see more from you, and I hope we can roleplay together more in the near future. <3

 

[Dair 82]

12 hours ago, TaraJess said:

Johanna Vuiller frowned as she read over the missive detailing the Vanderlord's death. He had always been kind to her, and even traveled all the way south for her wedding. She pattered down the stairs of her home, paper in hand, to find her husband, surely he would want to hear of such news.

 

The frown upon one Jean-Clément Vuiller was great indeed when his wife handed him the missive. The man under whom he had become a knight, the man from who he gained the name Sir Johann-Klemens von Äußere, had now passed away. A pleasure it was, to serve under him, he thought.

 

A lorraine would be signed, and a moment of silence held. Tonight he would drink for the memory of a good man and the hopes of a safe passing into the skies.

[Wolfthegray_ 26]

 

 

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A lone figure, clad in armor, bearing the visage of an defiant eagle, knelt at the alter of the Chapel of Saint. Michael. Hands brought together in quiet prayers, he watched incense rise, thickening the air as it spread through the chapel. His gaze was fixed upon one man, now freed at last from the burdens of this mortal world. Tears welled up in his eyes, as he bid his final farewell.

 

“Naked came I out of my mother's womb, and naked I will return thither.

You gave, and You shall take away

but why, O Lord, must it hurt so deeply?”

 

 

[Irishmanmichael 504]

It took quite some time for Manfred to process what he read for it was the Lord Vandalore he had to thank for so much of his progress but he knew he must continue to carry on his duties during this on going war and therefore he couldn't not mourn for long but he took the following evening to mourn.