[PK] CHARGING THE TEMPEST

[Morphine 823]

 

Spoiler

 

 

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T’was early light before the birds woke that Siegfried set foot on board a ship, bound for the open seas. Following a path only few of his ancestors would venture down, the annals of Reinmaren history took fervent hold of the Prince’s mind. He was compelled by some will in his blood to wander and seek answers.

Many miles from the shores of Azuras, the Prince’s ship steadied onward East into the rising sun. Upon first light, there beyond the horizon, a large mast rose from the depths. Her beams were rotted, turned to sponge after decades of being submerged. Her sails, thin as parchment yet never tearing. As the hull emerged, so too did it have the qualities of driftwood, caked in algae and barnacles. This wretched shape was merely no abandoned ship left behind. Nay, this were a dead man’s ship; the Withered Wail. A ghastly vessel, crewed by the most obscene and grotesque beings neither alive nor dead. Their skin rendered to jelly from sea-slug mucus, and their brains turned to soap. They did not seek riches or renown, merely acting on instinct for an insatiable bloodlust.
 

Siegfried held firm, ordering his crew to prepare. His ship, no more than a mere trading vessel, was armed with a few cannons. The Withered Wail had no intention of engaging from a distance. Without warning, a swirling, raging storm gathered overhead. The gale filled the deadmen’s sails fully, allowing them to sprint across the water toward Siegfried’s ship.

With a mighty crash, the Withered Wail rammed through the bow of the Barclay vessel, knocking good men off and to the depths. The deadmen aboard quickly vaulted from their deck with axe and sword. Without fear, Siegfried rallied his crew to charge the attackers head on. The storm grew worse, and a torrent of wind and rain swept across the ships. The Prince’s mace made quick work of the deadmen, but his crew were not so fortunate. Many had fallen to their blades, and those that cowered, leapt into the sea believing they could escape, but were soon swallowed by the waves.

Soon the rain subsided, but the wind still rocked the ships violently.

In desperation, Siegfried ordered what was left of his crew to gather the black powder and head for the bow. At the bow, where the Withered Wail had breached, the crew climbed aboard the deadmen’s vessel with kegs of powder, and set them along the walls of the hull while their crew was distracted.

Leaving a few men to dispatch the deadmen still on deck, Siegfried climbed to the stern, dipping an arrow wrapped in cloth, into a barrel of whale oil before igniting it with a lantern nearby. One of the deadmen snuck up behind Siegfried and plunged his sword into the Prince’s back. He cried out in pain before turning around and bashing the deadman to pieces with his mace. Struggling to take aim, Siegfried drew back his bowstring and loosed the arrow onto the Withered Wail, striking the powder, and igniting a massive explosion. The blast obliterated the dead ship, but struck the powder inside the men’s ship as well, causing a chain reaction. Bleeding out from his wounds, Siegfried closed his eyes, breathed calmly, and gave a final prayer as he gazed upon his immediate oblivion.

 

 

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Siegfried Otto Barclay
2012-2077

 

Spoiler

Thank you @Timer for the opportunity to lead Reinmar. While brief, I did enjoy the position. And thank you to @BuilderBagel, @Mayios, @Solour, @ViewerDiscretion_, @Lalosia, @rogaldornfan40989and the rest of Reinmar for the RP and support!

 

 

[nitsua 60]

The news reached the nephew of the Prince, Sir Ansgar Brandt with quite the shock.

"Rest yourself in peace, dear Uncle."

He began, the smile that so often strecthed along his expression shifting into a sorrow filled frown,

"Until we meet again. Wer Rastet, Der Rostet"

finished then, a pair of tears escaping his red eyes 

[Mescaffier 6197]

Johanna woke in similar fashion to when everyone had learned Siegfried's father, Prince Erwin, had passed – and that was not long ago. Her father had been the Prince of Reinmar for a scant few years, and now . . .

 

"Fellspawn killed him?" Johanna cried, staring in outrage to the poor handmaiden that'd woken her. She backhanded the woman, and threw down her bedside table, scattering all the vials of medicine and damp cloths that had been used to treat her, in the state she were. "It's not fair!"

 

Her fitful screams of rage and sorrow echoed through their palace in Leonstadt. The sickly Barclay would not easily let this go – she had never even gotten the time to say a last goodnight to her dear father. "I'll kill them! The Devil-children, the Undead, the Vampyrs – they're all going to die! To the hells with them all!"

[Sarven 2619]

"And so I live to see the reign of a third Chief of our fair Reinmar..."

The old knight-templar sighed, tracing the Lorraine across himself he offered a prayer at the hearing of the news

"I shall do my utmost to advise young Rodimar through these times...

"GOTT Mit Uns..."

[Mayios 542]

[I WILL FIX FONT AND COLORS LATER IM ON MY PHONE RN]

".. what!?" Adelheid leaped up from her chair as Aermund delivered the news to her. She had been so busy planning and managing the burst in new residence, she had assumed such to be the reason she hadn't seen the chieftain in quite awhile. It wasn't uncommon for her to not see her family due to working, the last year's she's been trying to make up for all the time she spent in her room. 

 

"What do you MEAN he is DEAD!?" She exclaimed, her brows furrowing heavily as she quickly rushed to shove her hair back into its usual bun.

 

"What about all the plans!? He had so many! We are meant to be going into a new Era, one focusing back on our arts, traditions..! Our land was meant to be renovated and updated!" Truth be told, she had never know her uncle well. She was more distraught over figuring out what comes next for her line of work rather than any funeral. 

 

"BAH! Shoo, shoo! I must seek my family out to figure out what comes next.."

[yeeter2k 247]

Rodimar, son of the late Prince in Reinmar, Siegfried, stood at the coast of Kanunsberg, next to the lighthouse where he and his friend Gundobad had stood once before overlooking the vast sea as the waves crashed into the jagged rocks lining their coast. This time, however, he stood alone pondering what allowed such a cruel fate to befall upon his father and leave him next to lead the tribe in the years ahead. Many thoughts materialized within his consciousness; some his own memories, others simply the words he had received from others in the past, from these thoughts eventually came only one thing...

Peace...

 

It seemed so distant in the years before, but with the sound of the crashing waves, the wind blowing his fair about, he felt a new kind of peace though his grieving that he had not once found in the past. Though, something stirred within his soul, a feeling that what was to come in the future would undo this Pax Imperia. He would need to take heed the advice he had been given from the Lawspeaker of Reinmar, from his closest of friends, his warriors, the knight who had squired him thus far. It would surely come handy to assist him in the future, for whatever lay ahead. For now, the boy planned to continue his lessons with the blade, and to ensure he would be ready for the day that hopefully in time he would avenge his father's death to the foul spawn that slew him. He walked his way back up the coastline, gripping the reins of his pale white steed as he rode his way past the green fields to Leonstadt. It seemed as though the wind blew with much more force than it had under the cover of the hill rested next to the shores.

"Ride with haste, Hengist, for there is much to be done. You shall aid me in carving the tribe's future ahead."