THE ABDICATION OF THE HESIR

[sarahbarah 7109]

 

 

ISSUED BY

THE HESIR OF THE KAROSLUND

 

⸙

 

ISSUED ON

this 20TH of GRONA and DROBA, 587 E.S.

 

VA VE EDLERVIK,

IT HAS BEEN MY HONOR TO SERVE as Hesir of the Karoslund, through peace and hardship, through long nights and bitter mornings. But a time comes in every leader’s life when their duty shifts, not from a lack of love for their home, but from a deeper oath sworn long before I assumed the mantle as Queen-consort of Hanseti-Ruska, and eventually, Hesir of the Karoslund. 

As much as I am a leader, so too am I a warrior. The field of battle beckons, and I can no longer deny the call. Shadow stirs across the realm, and Malchediael’s light demands my blade. I go to meet the darkness where it gathers, not as any mere noble, but as a servant of purpose.

My daughter, Maya Karenina Barbanov-Bihar, shall inherit the title of Hesir, as is her birthright, though she is not yet of age to rule. Until the day she comes into her own and may rightfully take her place upon the Circle of Crows, the mantle of governance shall pass to Ser Sigmar, who will serve as Regent of the Karoslund. In this role, he shall wield the full rights and responsibilities of the Hesir, guided by the counsel of the Circle and bound by the laws of our people.

Let it be known that I do not leave you, not truly. My heart remains with the Karoslund, with its people, and its hearths.

EA BYK ZWE ZANYOTSKER ZWEER EA TER PETRAVEZKER,

NADYA BARBANOV-BIHAR, Hesir of the Karoslund.

 

Spoiler

hello LOTC!

The world is a little crazy right now. Between planning a wedding, having surgery, graduating nursing school in December, and my fiance deploying to the Middle East in September, I unfortunately do not have a lot of time to dedicate to this wonderful project anymore. However, I'm extremely proud of how far this group has come, and I will forever be grateful to those who helped the Karoslund become what it's become. I'll keep this brief, but I just wanted to say a little thank you to anyone who ever interacted with our settlement/playerbase, and to Norland for being such gracious hosts. I hope you all continue to tell good stories, and cherish the time you have with your loved ones online and offline. wishing you all the best xxxx

-barah

 

[critter 2812]

Somewhere, atop white horse, a silver-haired warrior awaited her daughter. The call came for them all in the end, and the hunt would be hard; the battles many. When Nadya came from her service, when she came from the place she'd poured her heart into making a home, she would not face the dark alone.

[MunaZaldrizoti 8037]

Maya Karenina sat within the Chapel of Saint Karl, knelt in prayer as tears fell softly upon her cheeks. Her entire world had just been shifted, as if the ground beneath her were threatening to split open and swallow her whole. Her mother spoke of fighting in the name of the Light, of birthright and threats greater than any one person. She was only thirteen...just as her late uncle Karl had been. The stone-carved eyes of Exalted Sigismund bore down upon her from atop that humble altar, the legacy and history of all those whose blood flowed through the young Bihar's veins.

 

When she passed through the doors of that holy place once more, she left what had remained of her blissful childhood behind. No longer to be the 'Little Crow', but Hesir of the Karoslund. The future of her people.

[Frawlic 1602]

Dima recalled her childhood with Nadya. It was always a flurry of fists or shouting before there was an attempt at peaceful words. That is how she knew Nadya and had no issue with it. The first time she had seen her in a dress was jarring, a princess with a sword in her hand. While not uncommon, it was far from the Weiss' character. Though when she was Queen-Consort of Hanseti-Ruska, perhaps the Kovachev at the time felt relief in knowing the lady of her nation would be staunch in defense by every means, and she was.

Nadya, Hesir-Emeritus of Karoslund was no different, perhaps with an additional edge of paranoia, a longing for battle. So to Dima, the missive came with no surprise. Rather, she was relieved that a friend chose herself and her wishes first. A congratulations was in order, as was a drink.

[Terry 2680]

Ser Sigmar took a breath, and a deep one at that, as he gazed out over the Karoslund from his home. It had not been an announcement he was completely unprepared for, but all the same had he not expected it to come so soon.

 

He recalled when he first met his niece, Nadya, all those years ago in the capital of Neu Valdev. It involved her and a few others, all grouped up beneath the bridge leading to the Kastell Lesanov. The specifics were lost to the old timer at this point, but he knew that one person had said something mean to another, and he had to step in some to mediate as an adult. It was one of the first times Nadya had used words instead of fists to resolve a situation, and so the thought had made him chuckle.

 

How different she were today, having lead the Karoslund by pure example, with children of her own now. It made Sigmar once more realize just how old he were, and how he figured he'd be long gone by now. Nevertheless, she invested her trust in him to lead until her eldest came of age, and he had little desire to fail her now.

 

That night, would the elder Ruthern move to sleep on all that had happened that night. He'd go to rest as the second, and rise in the morning as the first. 

 

"How peculiar," thought the Palmreader, before the fact set in that this was the first morning he'd not arise to receive a good morning from his Hesir.

[Frostdrop1 1843]

Reinhard saw the notice. It stuck with him. It followed him. It lived in his head. The devil gnawed on his cheek at the news. The cousin he supported, and loved, somewhere deep down. That was her. And, yet, what happiness he could have drawn for her choosing her own way was greatly over-shadowed. Yet, his love and admiration of her showed in his decision to fight for her sake. It showed at the price he put himself under for it. Always, unwise. And yet, all he could express of it now was a bitter sneer of a heart cut into pieces, bit by bit, by her amongst the many that simply could not understand the path he had been dragged down screaming, then walked to spare the inevitable grazing. And certainly, now, that he had some semblance of escape - now, like the rest of the cowards, she was an enemy. 

He was left to linger on this in the next hours, as he travelled the wilderness to avoid what face he might happen upon on the roads. There came a moment where he considered if he had anything remaining to reach out. A terrible, nagging voice in the back of his head perpetually stabbed with some fleeting, venomous notion of hope. But he knew better. She would gut him, like the rest of them. She would lie, like the rest of them. She would take pride in some sickening celebration of murder like the rest of them. 

When he crawled out from hiding to face the sun the next morning, and the wind that bit in lashes at his features, he could only let out a shuddered sigh. Within, remained the family he desperately clung to an an achor for his sanity, isolated from the world for which he had yearned. Without, the unending wilderness. Arms raised to wrap around his form, long since jumbled and broken - torn apart by his own blood time and again - yet, surviving. He could only hope that life would see fit in its cruelty to grant him a mercy between them: that they would never meet again, doomed to battle.