Order Of The White Rose

[Morg 10]

*Morg Candridge strolls through Rivia and looks at the information. "Maybe, just maybe."

[Supremacy 3357]

Approaches the poster and glances at it. After quick scan he brings his eyes to the list of commanders and reads the name "Velwyn Ashford". Shocked by such a turn of events he rereads it three times.

"It seems a trip to The White Rose is in order... Odd a high elf would command something such as this... A religious cult" he mutters to himself.

[Peter Chivay 2492]

Updating roster soon;

I'd like to welcome two new members,

Slic3man and Jarkall.

[Horatio Burns 0]

A bird lands on Ser Peter Chivay's shoulder with a scroll in mouth to which he takes the scroll out and begins to read it upon opening

"Good Ser Peter Chivay, Baron of Rivia, this letter is in regards to joining of the honorable Order of the White Rose. I, Turi Marsala, would like further information on how I may join the Order. Please send a bird if you will help me with this."

The letter is signed with the signature of

Turi Marsala

[Urahra 5359]

Any schoolchild in Asulon could tell you that elves lived long lives -- thousands of years, if they remained careful -- but that did not mean that elves had better memories than other species. There were times when Tanith could barely remember what she cooked for breakfast, let alone things that happened more than seventy years ago. Tanith, in the single century she had walked the earth, had wandered the halls of countless houses, served scores of masters whose names she could no longer recall. From the moldering, decayed passages of lonely country manors to the pristine, silk-draped rooms of city apartments, the memories of all the places she'd worked seemed to blur together the further they slipped from the present.

There was one detail Tanith could always recall about the places she'd served, though -- the kitchens.

Kitchens remained more or less the same, no matter where she worked. There was always a stove, always a cupboard, always shelves stocked with herbs and spices. No matter what house she stayed in, every kitchen smelled the same. The tiny, hot room would always be filled with the same, familiar aromas of cooking - the warm, comforting fragrance of baking bread, the spicy bouquet of pepper, and other scents that Tanith knew by heart. Even if she wandered from house to house, trading employer for employer, the kitchen always remained a haven. An employer could be kind or cruel, old or young, male or female, but their kitchens remained consistent.

The kitchen of Rose Hold, however, stood out to her.

Never had a kitchen she worked in been busier. Most of Tanith's former employers lived alone in great, silent mansions. Few people, even noblemen, could afford to hire more than one servant. As such, when Tanith settled down to begin cooking, she often remained undisturbed for hours. But it was different here. In Rose Hold, men stormed in and out of the kitchen, grabbing fistfuls of food before rushing off to do whatever it was that they were supposed to be doing. The slamming of the kitchen door became a rhythm Tanith had grown used to. Heavy footfalls echoed around the stone keep, filling her work space with the sound of movements not her own. After three years of working for the White Rose, though, the noise had become something she could almost ignore. Not a distraction, but the simple pulse of life within the busy hold.

Today, things seemed extra busy. The pounding of feet thumped throughout the hold and distant, muffled voices echoed off the stone. Tanith stooped to open the oven. A wave of warm air rolled from the open door. Using a bit of cloth to protect her hands, Tanith removed the hot cooking rack from the oven. Three golden brown loaves of bread sat atop the rack. The smell of fresh bread wafted through the small kitchen. Setting the rack down on the counter top, Tanith stooped to close the oven door. Just as she did, the kitchen door opened once more.

Turning, she smiled softly at the hulking, blonde figure as he crossed the kitchen floor and sat down at the small table at her back. As soon as she took her eyes off him, though, the kitchen door opened a second time.

"Captain Toov, sir. Lord Thomas and Master Ashford wish to speak to you."

"Ja, zhank you Morris. I vill tend to it."

"Of course, sir."

The pulse of life within the Hold. Always people flowing in and out.

((Got bored. Drew Tanith in an elaborate dress. Then wrote a small thing to go with it. Because I can.))

[Peter Chivay 2492]

[[

• Roster has been updated, some removed, some added.
  - Those added were Eric Morris, Bran Volsung, and Jay Inuel. Welcome to the Order!
  
  
• Relations section added, currently only nations. Personal relations will be added in the near future. [Removed. Possible meta attached.]
  

*Disclaimer* - Do not be surprised if you are removed for inactivity, I will personally contact you once, you will be given time to respond, then you will be removed. If you wish to be re-added, I will consider it but know that it will hinder your chances. I am not looking for idle characters, I am looking for Roleplayers.

That being said, leave of absences are of course acceptable, some circumstances just can't be helped, and you will not be removed for such a reason.

]]

[Solaba 144]

*Garen sees a roster poster on the town wall*

Well, this is quite quear, I do not see my name on here...*he taps the poster while speaking to himself*.

Humph.....

*Wonders if he is even part of the Order still.*

[Remove Mathean and add Mathus, oh and add me!, Q word is spelt WEIRD so that it is not censored]

[Stevie 1598]

Looking over the increasing pile of parchments on his desk, Thomas comes across one addressed from the Seneschal of the Order, and one of his old friends, Velwyn Ashford. Thomas now takes an in-depth read of the parchment, knowing that anything addressed from Velwyn in writing is something important indeed. Upon careful reading and study, Thomas smiles and gives a light chuckle, always amazed at the tenacity for efficiency the Seneschal strives for so often. The parchment is compiled with several others, and rough sketches are drawn on most of them, with a description to match each. The Baron even manages to be impressed at Velwyn’s artistic nature, seeing that he took great care in properly sketching the images.

_________________________________________________________________________

Armour Improvements in the Order

The Order is in need of a few additions to its armament, as it seems our previous equipment and uniforms were, although stitched with love, crafted too crudely. I have been working tirelessly to remedy our situation, and have come up with a series of sketches and designs for the Order’s new equipment, particularly our armour. Here are the latest designs which I have been working on:

Knight Armour

This suit of armour is considered standard for all our High Command. Utilizing full plate with chainmail under-clothes, this armour is highly protective against projectiles, blunt and sharp weapons. Grazing blows are almost completely deflected with this piece, and the armour is a full set, revealing no vital points. Fitted with an armet helmet, the wearer is able to bring down his visor to further protect his face, while also keeping the visibility and peripheral vision intact. The specifics for the Knight’s armour is two white plumes, with a red in the center, to signify their rank on the battlefield. The Knight is also equipped with a pollaxe(Sketch not included) and longsword as per standard request.

The Chivay’s Armour

The armour of the Chivay brothers is the standard Knight armour, but coloured dark red to better differentiate their meaning to the Order. As well as this, the Earl’s armet helmet is fitted with four white plumes and three red plumes, to signify their rank as Earl and overall commander. The Earl is also permitted the standard Gaekrin Clainach, a large hand-and-a-half blade native to the Chivay’s Lyrian Kingdom.

Senior Command Armour

Worn by more specifically the Master and Commander, the Senior Command Armour is made of the same quality as the Earl’s and Knight’s armour. For the purpose of this sketch, I have chosen to include my Zweihander over the Gaekrin weaponry, for this is the suit I shall be fitting myself into for battle. All members of the Senior Command wear four plumes: two white and two red, to signify rank.

Confanonier Armour(Toov)

More specifically worn by Toov, the Confanonier Armour is the standard Knight armour, and has access to a two-handed weapon for standard use. Toov’s blade, Dreyrugr, is of course larger than the blades we commonly see due to the Gaesgro people’s size. The Confanonier Armour is also fitted with a different plume style, with the red and white plumes swept back to further differentiate their commanding role over the Enlisted.

Sergeant Armour

Constructed with the similar workings of the Knight Armour, the Sergeant does not have the granted privileges of a pollaxe to bear, and instead is given a standard longsword for use. The Sergeant is also fitted with two white plumes on his armet helmet, signifying his rank as a junior officer and ability to command a contingent of Order men.

Enlisted Armour

Worn by the Footman and Men At Arms of the Order, these suits of armour are designed to balance both mobility and protection. Outfitted with a hardened breastplate and thigh-plates under chainmail undershirt, the Enlisted Armour is able to withstand considerable amounts of damage from projectiles and glancing blows. The sallet helmet is designed with a removable visor and a neck guard to maximize head protection. As well as this, the Enlisted is also given an arming sword and choice of tower shield, kite shield or rounded shield for standard use.

Crossbowman Armour

Equipped with the same Enlisted Armour design, the Crossbowman Armour is designed to give more flexibility in regards to the arm, for easier use of the crossbow. The other modification made to the Crossbowman Armour is the barbute helmet design over the sallet. This modification has been made to increase the visibility of the wearer, to better range and fire on a potential target.

I suggest we implement these new designs immediately. I can contact an armoursmith immediately and negotiate a contract, within reasonable pricing, of course.

-Velwyn Ashford, Seneschal

_________________________________________________________________________

Finishing the read, Thomas smiles once more, more than satisfied in Velwyn’s work. He rises up quickly to find Peter and Toov to show them the designs as well, and to later find Velwyn on putting these designs to actual practical purpose.

[[ So I thought that with me adoring War of the Roses’ historical accurate armor, I thought I’d make a post to show everyone what the Order looks like when they’re combat ready and able. This is as close as I could get to historical accuracy, which is pretty damn close, while also giving me a customizable template to fiddle with.

[Peter Chivay 2492]

Krak du Rhoswen slowly comes into view, its large towers bustling over the landscape. A man can be seen sitting atop a throne, while two men kneel in-front of him.

Peter happily sits upon his throne, slowly tapping his armored fingers onto the armrest.

Looking onward onto two men, his helmet removed and all. Afterword, he stretches his back upward, lifting off his throne and looking down upon the men that are currently kneeling in-front of him.

Tapping the tip of a large claymore onto the floor, Peter uses the extra balance to stay alift.

"Rise, new brothers of the Rose. You have taken the oath and from here on outward, ye' will be one of us."

The two men slowly rise, faint smiles of satisfaction on their faces. Both of an affirmative nod toward Peter, almost in coherence with each other.

Clearing his throat, the Grandmaster emits a more formal accent. "From this point, only death will remove you from such an oath." Peter sets the claymore to the side, removing two swords that were tucked in his belt.

The swords are finely crafted, with bands of gold around their hilt and scabbard. The emblem of the Rose is adorned on both the scabbard and hilt as well. When lifted from Peter's hands, the men's smiles grow large. "Th-thank you Ser." One men says, lowering his head.

"Use the swords in good health, lads. They are a symbol of your dedication and oath. Now... we have things to do."

Both men nod once more, starting off to follow after Captain Toov, the large man standing silently at the bottom of the stairs.

[[ I'd like to welcome firespirit44 and The_Ranger44 to our Order, congratulations and have fun roleplaying! ]]

[Stevie 1598]

Inspired by Velwyn's report on new armour for the Rose, Thomas himself devoted a considerable portion of his time to researching and documenting the weaponry the Order possesses and utilizes. With both records from the libraries of Arethor, and personal accounts of specific blades from the owners themselves, Thomas has been able to formally compose the weaponry of the White Rose. Although normally belligerent and rowdy, Thomas tunes his nature to professionally write this official document.

_________________________________________________________________________

The Weaponry of the White Rose

The Order of the White Rose takes great pride in their weaponry, and makes sure every Order member is equipped with their standard rank-permissive weaponry.

Arming Sword

The arming sword is a light, versatile weapon capable of both cut and thrust combat; and normally boasts excellent balance. They are most commonly recognized as single-handed double-edged swords that were designed more for cutting than thrusting. Every Order member is permitted this weapon.

Pollaxe

The basic long axe began to evolve, gaining an armour piercing spike on the back and another on the end of the haft for thrusting. The pollaxe evolved to break through plate armour and featured various combinations of an axe-blade, a back-spike and a hammer. Only Knights and above are permitted to use this weapon.

Longsword

The longsword is commonly held in combat with both hands, though some may be used single-handed. Longswords are used for hewing, slicing, and stabbing. The specific offensive purpose of an individual longsword is derived from its physical shape. All parts of the sword are used for offensive purposes, including the pommel and crossguard.

Longbow

A longbow is a type of bow that is tall (roughly equal to the height of the person who uses it). This allows its user a fairly long draw, at least to the jaw. The average length of arrowshafts is about the size of a man’s arm(30 inches). A longbow is not significantly recurved. Its limbs are relatively narrow so that they are circular or D-shaped in cross section. A typical military longbow archer would be provided with between 60 and 72 arrows at the time of battle.

Crossbow

A crossbow is a range weapon that shoots projectiles (called bolts or quarrels) consisting of a bow mounted on a stock. Very light crossbows can be drawn by hand, but heavier types need the help of mechanical devices. The simplest version of mechanical cocking device is a hook attached to a belt, drawing the bow by straightening the legs. Unmounted crossbowmen, often mixed with javeliners and archers, occupied a central position in battle formations. Usually they engaged the enemy in offensive skirmishes before an assault of mounted knights. Crossbowmen were also valuable in counterattacks to protect their infantry.

Individual Weapons of the Order

Apart from having standard weaponry issued to every Order member upon rank approval, the Order is also lenient in their acceptance of non-standard weaponry used by individuals. The individual weapons are listed here.

Gaekrin Clainach

The Gaekrin Clainach is a variation of the typical Asulonian Claymores. The sword had a uniquely styled hilt that sets it apart from other great swords of the land; its hilt is angled towards the blade and is considered a tedious work to complete for a blacksmith. Typically of longsword length, this versatile weapon could deliver great sweeping slashes or powerful thrusts, and can be crafted in both hand-and-a-half or two-handed designs. Thomas Chivay wears his hand-and-a-half variant on his side, in a specifically designed Chivay leather sheath, colored black and adorning the Chivay crest on either side; while Peter Chivay uses the two-handed variant, in which its scabbard lies across his back and its sheath adorning the White Rose. The creation of these Gaekrin swords are unknown to Asulonian smiths, and only the Chivay family(Or residents of the Kingdom of Lyria) have the knowledge capable of creating these unique swords.

Dreryugr

Dreyrugr is a massive weapon made for a massive man. As typical of Gaesgro culture, the blade is a masterwork, crafted at Toov's birth by his father in honor of his firstborn and son. Generally carried in its large, dull metal sheath across Toov's back, the hilt glints of steel, and the pommel is wrapped in mixture of black leather and shark skin strips to prevent it from slipping in his grip. The blade itself is a deep, dark maroon color like blood and glistens similarly. This is due to being repeatedly quenched in the blood of a mountain bear during it's creation. In Gaesgro culture, the blade embued with the attributes of the animal it is quenched in, and Toov's father wished his son to be a mighty force to be reckoned with. The exact composition of the metal is unknown, as Gaesgro weapons were customarily forged with a special recipe for the metal to be used. This secret was lost with the destruction of the Gaesgro people, and Toov himself is unaware.

Forn Kaldr

The Ancestral blade handed down to Bran promptly after his Father’s death. The blade being made of tempered metal, however something is special of this blade, no other smith has been able to recreate the blade. Cryptic symbols running across it’s fuller, the center of the pommel has a cryptic symbol engraved in it. Each symbol different to show the difference from every generation onward, because each symbol is the name of the rightful wielder of the blade. Passed down through the generations another symbol would be added along with a golden like chain impressed into the fuller, running down to the next symbol to represent the next generation. The hilt consisting of leather bound tightly around the tang, and has an arched quillon- there is nothing special about the color just a simple grey color.

Taranithriel

An ebony black katana that apparently achieved its color from the deaths of heretics to its fine edge. Leric, the owner of the blade, keeps the katana in a large sheath on his back. As well as this, Leric fashions two short swords on either side of his hips for a more efficient close quarter combatant.

The Siege Engines of the Order

The Order has been able to develop and construct siege engines common in Asulon. With these designs and the efficiency of the Order, no walls of stone stand vigilant for long.

Arbalest

The Arbalest is a modified crossbow, enlarged greatly for more power, and is typically regarded as a siege weapon used in the armies across Asulon. Since an arbalest was much larger than earlier crossbows, and because of the greater tensile strength of steel, it had a greater force. A skilled arbalestier (arblaster) could shoot two bolts per minute, quite the feat for the size and tension of the siege crossbow.

Counterweight Trebuchets

One of the largest siege engines in Asulon, the Trebuchet could fling three hundred pound (140 kg) projectiles at high speeds, at times including corpses infected with various diseases, in an attempt to infect the people under siege, as a medieval variant of biological warfare. Trebuchets were far more accurate and powerful than other forms of Asulonian siege engines, such as catapults.

Ballistae

The Ballista design was similar to a giant crossbow and worked by using tension. The Ballista was designed to aim huge wooden, iron clad, darts or arrows which were powered by twisted skeins of rope, hair, or sinew - the ballista design was based on a huge dart-throwing machine. The Ballista loosed heavy bolts, darts, stones and spears along a flat trajectory. The force of the missiles launched from the Ballista was designed to have great penetration and were capable of skewering several of the enemy at one time.

Mangonels

Mangonels shoot heavy projectiles from a bowl-shaped bucket at the end of the arm. The bucket is used to launch more rocks than a sling could. In combat, mangonels hurl rocks, burning objects (or vessels filled with flammable materials which created a fireball on impact; fire pots), or anything else readily available to the attacking and defending forces.

_________________________________________________________________________

Once the ink was dry and the sketches complete, Thomas takes his finished product up from his desk with great care, proceeding off from his quarters to find the esteemed Seneschal, pride blooming from the somewhat stocky Chivay as he admires the effort he put into the soon-to-be official document.

[Peter Chivay 2492]

[[ Roster will be getting updated soon, with fresh new names and fresh new removals.

While you're still reading this post, check out our new wiki page;

-> http://www.lordofthecraft.net/wiki/wikka.php?wakka=Order_of_the_White_Rose <-

made by our very own Order members.

And as a last order of business, we are now considered a full on Chapter of the Holy Order of the Red Dragon (Within Oren). The history as well as the name will be updated along with the roster, so sit tight, kick back, and await some updating! ]]

[Solaba 144]

*Slams his ale down on the table where he relaxes*

"Well that was quite the....party, wasn't it? A whole township of citizens threaten us with their weapons and expect to get away with it? 'Tis quite the story to tell for pasttime. The chase was the most thrilling, they pull that backdoor and rip me a new one."

[[Just using our skills to pay the bills]]

[Stevie 1598]

Standing in the living room of his quarters, Thomas gazes to the fire, recently fed and aired out. It is apparent someone had been here recently, and it was clearly evident when the bearded Knight looked to the table. Laying across the table, the lower end dangling a bit from the edge, lay a new tabard. Tailored to his size, the tabard was in pristine condition and had a slight modification to his normal White Rose surcoat. This tabard adorned two red crosses on either side of his arms, just reaching before the gauntlets and in clear sight. Showing a wide smile, Thomas proceeds to change into this new tabard, which fits over his chain and half-plate armor with ease and comfort. After a few ruffles of the bottom, the Knight exits his quarters as a full fledged Inquisitor of Oren, looking to thank a particular maid for her work.

[Urahra 5359]

You don't deserve him.

Tanith knelt on the cold stone floor of the serving kitchen, elbow deep in dirty dishes. The amount of food the White Rose went through in a week astounded her sometimes. Bread, steak, milk, and, more recently, chocolate chip cookies seemed to vanish from her cupboards at an alarmingly high rate. Often times, the men didn't even wait for dinner. They strolled into the serving kitchen and helped themselves to whatever Tanith had just pulled out of the oven. Dishes piled up high in the sink, so much that Tanith could not go a single day without washing them. Every morning started with Tanith kneeling beside the washtub and sinking her arms deep into hot, soapy water.

It's true. You don't.

Tanith paused in her washing, the sponge momentarily slipping from her hand. It splashed softly into the washtub, sending a small wave of suds spilling over the side. Tanith reached down, reclaiming the sponge, and squeezed it gently. Warm water ran over her fingers, dribbling back into the soapy tub. Letting out a small sigh, she picked up one of the tin plates the Order so commonly ate off of. They had fine dishes too, of course -- pretty china plates with rose patterns around the edges -- but those plates were for company. A group of rowdy soldiers couldn't be trusted with delicate tableware.

Tanith ran the sponge over the plate, watching as tiny rivulets of water ran off its surface. Every day, she found herself working with water somehow. Washing clothes or dishes, carrying buckets up to her small garden, or simply sitting beside Krak du Rhoswen's moat in her leisure hours, water had a way of appearing and reappearing in her life. The soft crash of the waves against the cliffside serenaded her to sleep every night. The very air she breathed, even deep within the heart of Krak, carried a tinge of sea salt.

Setting the tin plate up on the counter to dry, Tanith wiped her hands clean on a towel and rose to her feet. If she closed her eyes and stayed quiet for a moment, she could just hear the faint cry of a seagull somewhere outside. Turning, Tanith headed for the kitchen door. The dishes could soak for a while without her. Silence swallowed the front hall of Krak. Everyone was off doing something -- Mr. Ashford visiting his children, Toov punishing heretics, Mr. Volsung courting his lady friend. Tanith found she liked the quiet, though a part of her missed the noise and bustle of Rose Hold. Treading softly over the red carpets, Tanith made her way toward the front gate. 

A smattering of cloud flickered across the sun, throwing patterns of light and shadow over the exterior walls. Seafoam churned against the ocean gate. Tanith knelt down by the moat. Eddies and currents churned the briny waters. Light played on the surface. Here, on the coast of the Holy Lands, the water glimmered a deep blue, so opaque that Tanith couldn't even see the bottom of the moat. They said the sea held many secrets - beautiful sirens, monsters of terrifying proportions, sunken hoards of gold. Tanith lowered her hand to the water, fingertips barely grazing the surface. 

"Vhat are you doing, mein Liebling?"

Tanith let out a yelp, lurching forward and nearly tumbling face first into the moat. He reached out, catching hold of the back of her dress and pulling her to safety. Tanith blushed, scrambling to her feet. The giant man chuckled softly. Tilting her head back, Tanith looked up at him. The gold crosses on his shoulders glimmered in the changing light. 

I don't deserve you.

As much as she loved her husband, there was always that familiar sense of inadequacy. Here was a man who could conjure holy magic in his sleep. Who could heal the eyes of a blind man back to perfection. A man who'd won the admiration and praise of the highest tiers of the Oren church. A man who could go toe to toe with a Frost Witch and win. And what was she? What was Tanith? A maid. A cook. A woman who spent far too much time fretting over her tiny garden. A frail, nervous dark elf who fainted at the sight of blood. 

"I was...I was just looking at the water," she replied, gazing down at the ground. He chuckled again, brushing a strand of her hair behind one of her ears. Tanith blushed furiously -- not because of his touch, but because of the overwhelming feeling of worthlessness compared to him. 

I want to be worthy of you.

She would never be as strong or as smart or as talented as him. Not even if she worked for her entire life. But there was one thing, maybe one thing, that might make her worthy of his love. One thing where she might stand equal to him. 

"Then maybe I'll just learn magic and fight alongside you next time."

"Zhat would be nice."

Maybe he hadn't meant it. Maybe he'd just said it to make her happy. It didn't matter to her. Tanith Toov made a promise. She would learn magic and fight alongside him someday, as his equal. 

And Tanith Toov never broke her promises.

[Stevie 1598]

Approaching the secluded wooden walls hidden by forest and hills, the Chivay brothers stand before the hardwood gates, looking through to the long manor house they've come to know so well. With a rounding shout, so common of a Chivay, Peter calls to the manor, the peaceful serenity of the forest broken as birds and critters scamper away. For a few short moments, the world is silent. Startled and frozen the forest sits, once again broken by the throwing open of the manor door; a wide, grey-bearded figure stumbles forth, chugging from a large tankard of ale. The distinguishable Gaekrin accent and obnoxious demeanor sets this man as a fellow Chivay. Manners aside, and part of Chivay tradition, the wide man is met with stout replies from the brothers only a few feet away.

"Well if it isn't our oaf of an uncle!" The older Peter shouts.

"I 'ope we're not interrupting a good ploughing, uncle!" Says the snickering Thomas.

"...Not that anyone would wanna plough that aging fing." Peter adds, both brothers smiling a familiar sarcastic grin.

The stumbling man with the tankard moves to the gatehouse, grunting as he heaves the gate's lever, bringing the clanking wood up and allowing the brothers to enter. Stepping out to face the two, he speaks in slurred sentences, "An' now who-what's you two whoresons doin' back 'ere? I thought you nephews were off livin' in that Rhoswen keep." Thomas replies to his stammering uncle, who is all the more amusing when he is drunk, "We've come to visit a certain cousin, uncle."

And just as Thomas finishes his sentence, a taller, younger, and seemingly elegant figure steps out from the doorway of the manor. Dressed in finer, cleaner clothes than his father, the man's face reveals no beard and is quite finely groomed, much to the opposite of the three other Chivays standing by the gate. The younger man now steps towards the trio, a calm smile over his face as he looks to his two long-missed and successful cousins.

"Brenius? Wot did yer time in Jengar do to ye? I 'ope you 'aven't grown pointed ears in that filth of a Republic."

"Of course not, cousin. I have only groomed myself a bit finer, to fit in with those Elves and others."

"Jus' as long as you don't start writin' poetry and speakin' too proper like them..."

Brenius flashes a smile, chuckling slyly as he places an arm around his slightly shorter cousin, looking to his father who manages to mumble an insult to his son through slurred speech. The group shared another chuckle as the uncle storms off, swaying about as he stumbles back inside, leaving the two Chivay brothers reunited with their cousin; who seemingly changed greatly during his time spent in the "free" Republic of Jengar. But for the time being, they rejoiced and celebrated, proud that another Chivay has come to join in the fortunes and wonders of Asulon. And during their celebration in the dining hall of the manor, a slightly bent figure enters, relying heavily on a cane as he stares lifelessly to the mantle of the fire at the end of the hall; a loose crown resting atop his head, just about to slip off.

"...When did these two get here...? I know the concubines of Temeria didn't compare to here... but beards? This will not do..."

And with that, the Chivay family was just about complete. Following up with a night of drinking and shouting, the Chivays were almost fully reunited, living much like they had in their homeland, one which was becoming a nostalgic memory to them now.