The Old Crow

[Cracker 4570]

Siegmund Carrion had never been a model for vitality; the depressive, somber man had always had his cold streaks which indicated age beyond his years. However, the mortality of man had begun to set unto the King of Crows. The wounds he bore during the Orenian Civil War had never quite healed, and along with the toll of age he began to limp in his walk.

 

The golden cane which his own lordling, a young Baron David Nasser, had bestowed him had aided in his newfound seniority. But nothing prepared for him for his son's assault; when he had caught word of Otto's assassination attempt, he was consumed with grief, and soon found himself dealing with a burning plague. It attacked him on and off for month's on end, and the pale face of Siegmund had begun to scrunch with the wrinkles of age. His crow's plume molted to a wispy grey, and his battle of sickness took toll of his strength.

 

Expecting death to come sooner over later, he summoned his two sons who were within Ruska; Otto and Fyodor. However, he had them wait outside his bedchambers, as he motioned for a black haired, blue eyed, robust young simpleton enter the room before them. Both brothers murmured whispers, but none took to action.

 

Siegmund glanced up to the young man dressed in a peculair seaman's garb, giving him a bittersweet smile

 

"I face death soon, so I will speak truth to you. You have shown documentation and proof, and to my surprise, you are my only sin of bastardy for I was the one who gave your mother child. It seems I had inherited something from my father, some of his wicked lust. If I am to pass, my half-brother is only other man to know of my sin; you shall speak with him."

 

Before the man could even respond, Siegmund shooed him off, leaving him confused and awed.

 

He then beckoned to his two trueborn sons. Motioning to Otto first, Siegmund began to mutter in a sick, hazy voice.

 

"My good son, one who I have bestowed the fertile fields of Kaedrin, you know of my plans. You are my only son gifted with the strength of our Kassak blood, my own strength which was all I had in my youth. I trust you to continue my plan, to execute our will and insure that the Crow will not be forgotten amongst both Raevirs and humanity."

 

Then he spoke to Fyodor.

 

"You are my firstborn, da, but your clubfoot means you shall not inherit as Otto. But no matter to this; you will rule with dirt and stone as your brother with fire and sword. I have told you many times in your youth of this day. Even if you cannot sprint nor ride with grace, there are few men with your crow's wit and curiosity. You will be good to our strelts, as I have been good to them since our arrival in Elysium, our struggles against the Hochmeister, our battles against the corrupted, our skirmishes with Adunia, and our future challenges. Support your brother; do not harbor hate and do not think he took your birthright. This role will do you better, and it will bring Ruska to prosperity."

 

Glancing to both, he coughed for a few moments, before raspily squeaking out.

 

"Fyodor, I shall entrust you Raev in my departure and to steward it in my infirmities. Otto, you shall administer Ruska and breath it new life if I am ever to succumb to humanity's curse. I trust you both to tend to your younger siblings, Lena and Franjo and give both of you the blessing as Lord Patriarch to insure the prosperity of our House and peoples."

 

And with that, he had both dismissed, without a word more between them. Siegmund fell to deep sleep.

 

He awoke the next morning, his sickness fading. Within a week he had found himself able to hobble about the Krelmstad. However, the plague had done its damage, and the Old Crow found himself an older man, of sixty and one, facing death at a moment's notice.

 

OOC: Explanation for inactivity and proper aging for my character; I was busy at college, but should be able to get on the forums and soon a bit in game.

[bungo 3965]

Bogdanistan rubs Bird-**** into Siegmund's forehead as he is in a deep slumber to help rid any unholy dreams in sleep.

[Moot 1719]

Moved to the Great Library. It shall be sorted into appropriate category shortly.