[PK] BE KIND TO OTHERS, HADRIAN

[squakhawk 14038]

Dame Johanna Magdelene flipped through her books, assorting through the pages. Her hair fell beside her as the candlelit flit in her small room in Rethel. The winds blew from the warm seas as salt filled the air as a sigh left her breath. She looked over the pages, reading the achievements of better men again and again.

 

Augustus.

 

Aurelius.

 

Godfrey.

 

Did Hadrian belong among these annals? She thought. 

He met the make of many. Conqueror. Faithful. Honorable. Loved. Feared.

 

She considered the position her was in. She thought of what she may do. She thought of how she could even relate, with what little she truthfully could.

 

She rubbed her head, knowing what would come next. Knowing what she would see, what would fall, what would rise and burn up again and again. A cycle of strife, as the apex now lay dead. The Dragon no longer soared; it would take time for the legitimacy of the new imperial to establish.

 

Would he be up to the task?

 

 

. . .

 

. . .

 

She shut the book, rubbing her grey eyes. She shadows beneath them darkened her countenance, the scars of war superficial. She thought not of the innocents, the honorable, the mothers and fathers - she thought of how it would all be remembered. How would she be remembered? Would her place among the texts be recalled fondly, when she laid low the elves who practiced foul sorceries? The prideful dwarves who sent out their meek to meet her flail? The orcs who bowed before her blade.

 

Perhaps the texts would say, she thought. But did she earn it? Was she who she would read herself to be, in the times to come?

 

She looked back to the book then, canted upon her desk as if it asked her the question.

 

Were any of these men who she read them to be?

 

 

 

 

[Destructokeith 1142]

High in the tower of Tor'Urldar a Herald sits.

His Green eyes can across a map, a lone coin sits upon the center of the map, stamped with the crest of the Empire.

The taloned gauntlet of Artair reaches forth and lifts the coin, flipping it before placing it back upon the map.

 

"let us see what comes next"

 

He muses simply before the edges of the map begin to burn.

[AechQQ 104]

"A complicated man.." The dwarf said, deep in the wilderness. "I cannot help but admire the ambition..."

[Areon 947]

"The Emperor is Dead. Long Live the Emperor," states a Lorraine Guardsman of only Twenty Three years, though his tone seemed neutral to the fact - Not for some sense of grave disdain or lack of love of the Emperor. He too suffered as a product of his environment, his early foundational years spent serving as a Levy Crossbowman in the Imperial Guard. As he heard the news he only thought of it as another casualty, and the same numbness persisted in him as he spoke. Another casualty of the machine that broke men they called the Empire.

 

"Ave Imperium."

[frvma 1014]

Spoiler

This is one of the most poignant, beautiful PK posts ever written and posted on these forums. I have nothing to add IRP as I've never engaged with the Empire at large. But holy hell, this post is so beautiful.

 

[Rainalyn 130]

R

[Helmet 1454]

Spoiler

Damn good character.

 

GG Werewolf.

 

[kruurk 47]

-puffs cigar-

Rest easy, big E

[Riot 743]

Spoiler

Just got home from work 5 hours after the news.

Dorin Starbreaker would hear of the passing of the Emperor of Azuras.

From the moment Dorin arrived in Urguian to the very moment he now leads the dwarves to safety.
Every step has been under the shadow of Hadrian I.

Dorin's desire to smith for all of Azuras was altered, although it was not gone.
The people would not yet know his work.

His trials for Starbreaker Legacy were put on hold.
As a Starbeaker who knew nothing about Golemancy.

As a Rhun Initiate, he was never granted the rights to finish his smithing initiation.
As a Smith with no teachers.

The bodies that lay around him... he feared it would forever change the dwarves.
But that meant little in his eyes.

Now was the time to hide, now was the time to grow, now was the time to seek connections in the outside world.

He truly HATED Hadrian I, Emperor of Azuras.
But that hatred did not travel to his kin.

Even when their father ordered the death of all sons and daughters of Urguan, they granted him a voice. no matter how brief.

He doubted this would be the last time he met them.

He doubted this would be the last time he saved a human life.

But this would be the last time the ire would strike his heart like a hammer of the forge.

Even upon the book of grudges, he cared little to study it.

Even upon his Great-Grandfather's cursing to the heavens and the Emperor himself.

All he could see was his father, his mother, his sister, and his great-grandfather.

He refused to let the hatred of men curse his heart.

He was already cursed, the Curse of Greed.

Although to him it felt like a blessing.

His curse has been molded by his mother, A Goldhand, to treasure not that of items or mina, but that of people.

He would begin to hoard.

His friends in Iryalen, his friends in the long-lost vassals of Amberdell and Babblebrook, even those who showed him kindness in Cerulia.

It would not end there.

The dwarves have also begun falling victim to his curse as he herded them onto his ship.
A ship that quickly became too small for his treasures, even if the chests were empty.

The Curse of Greed had struck Hadrian's heart, for he was a true Dwarf.
Hadrian aimed to collect land, to collect loyalty.
Although Hadrian sought it out in power, in control, in FEAR.

Dorin Starbreaker would soon seek something similar.

For he, too, was a true Dwarf.

Although his mind was clearer to the temptation, to the downfall soon to come, the destruction of Hadrian's name.

Dorin Starbreaker's mother had molded his greed.

She hid Dorin from the dwarves.

Prepared him as much as she could, until she was stripped from the world.

Dorin's path was going to be long.

 

His path was going to be painful.

But his path would hurt only those who wished to take his treasure.

Dorin Starbreaker would set off with papers scattered along his desk in his ship.

Plans to protect his treasures.

A final stop was made near the Empire as his booming voice prayed for the piece of heart for the men of the Empire.

A child caught him.

Who the child was was unknown.

To Dorin, it mattered little.

He offered an olive branch to the Empire; whether they took it was now their choice to make for their own destiny.

[erictafoya 3276]

In the high mountains of Idunia, an old man dressed in old clothes from a forgotten realm hears of the emperor's demise. "Farewell, son of Horen." Despite being enemies once upon a time, he of all knew all too well the weight of ruling - and he felt pity.

[Onnensr 1908]

"Heaven's gained another Aengul," Nerium said forlornly, shedding a tear. He hadn't read the missive, but he'd read the title.