Cryothane

ILSE gazed over the missive - as the whispers of the response drifted through the city. A humored amusement found her, her head shaking as the missive were neatly folded - and handed to the Knight beside her. The Nords, specifically the Norns - had never changed. They have always been against demonkind. Anyone who had thought differently, did not know them well enough at all. Her head peered sidelong to DRAGOMIR, stood patiently at her side. "For every good one of them, there are twenty more who will become a Warlock - or serve a Dark Lord of some sort. Doing our homework- this happens continuously even after giving ample chance for them and their ilk to grow in a healthy environment - away from evil." "Eventually the well-being of their kind comes second to keeping the Nation and its people safe. This should have never been a surprise." The crystalline hues would lull at such a conclusion - humming as she retreated to her lessons for the night.

"Peace and Love." Murmurs a Squire.

Combat Advisory FOR THOSE DETERMINED TO LEARN THE HARD WAY Issued by ILSE HAAKOÓNSDOTTIR, on the 4th of Svensmánaðr, IAÁ 589, AGE OF DRAGONFYRE; PREAMBLE It has come to my attention that there has been a grievous mishandling of combative scenarios. While only briefly, this sets a horrific precedent that must be nipped in the bud at its roots before it is repeated. Thus comes the creation of this advisory. AND SO IT SHALL BE, BY THE WILL OF THE FATHER AND CONSENT OF THE KING, As Lady of the North, I, ILSE HAAKÓNSDOTTIR, Henceforth, by this decree, serve a potent reminder for anyone who stumbles upon battle. CONTENTS ARMING OF THE CITIZENRY HANDLING BATTLE ARMING OF THE CITIZENRY If you are a combat-capable citizen of Norland, then it is a formal decree on this day, especially Purifiers and Guardsmen alike, to be consistently armed and fitted in armor - helmet included. It has recently come to attention that battle is seemingly possible at any moment, even within city limits. Grendelkin take advantage of the late hours of the night to take far bolder action, so take this into account as well. HANDLING BATTLE Since it must be stated, if you stumble upon a battle or notice a troubling presence whilst unarmed and unarmored; Do not enter battle. Obtain and alert reinforcements, by bell if possible and voice if not. Prepare yourself before you join in combat. If you are improperly prepared for combat, you are useless in a battle and become a detriment if you enter it. Preparation is not optional; it is your duty. Do not attempt heroics. Individual valour does not, and never will, outweigh coordinated response. Preserve your life for the defence of others. If your stupidity leads to the death of another Nord, then you will pay just as harshly as the Grendel who assailed you. AND SO IT SHALL BE, BY THE WILL OF OUR ALLFATHER, HER HIGH LADYSHIP, Ilse Haakonsdóttir Daughter of the Herald - First of His Line, Lady of The North, Huskarl and Quartermaster of the Northern Host HIS MAJESTY, Haraldr av Edvardsson Ruric King of Norland, High Chieftain of the House of Ruric, Chieftain of the Clan Edvardsson, Jarl of Verdrgrad, Blood of the Herald & Lord of the Ashwood Throne, Protector of the Highlanders HER EMINENCE, Sissel Freysdóttir av Ruric, Master of the Order of the First Flame, High Keeper of the Red Faith & the Flame Imperishable Iulius-Thegn Rauðrdrakar Lord Purifier of the Order of the First Flame, Thegn of Verðrgrad, Chieftain of Clan Rauðrdrakar

FOR THE SAKE OF THE SONS. ───────────────────────────────✦─────────────────────────────── A soft rustle disturbed the quiet of the Swornsword's room, as the missive slid from her hands. As crimson visage lingered upon the parchment for a long, unmoving moment. Not of shock. Not of fury. A strange, settling stillness. A sort that shows when truth long avoided kneels before you, and there is not else you can do but look. She understood the worry. An elven nation, in human's hands. For as many elves who knew the camaraderie humans had to offer, there were just as many who did not. Yet, as the elfess' head rose - eyes gazing to the distant figure of her son, sat in the room beside. Brows knit with the tension of youth. The missive was softly folded, and settled down again. One could not be so foolish to drag themselves, their city, their kin and kind in general alike - to death. For naught, but pride. For some it would be an uncomfortable change. Yet for one elfess, she would take uncomfortable change, over watching her son join in a needless march for death. Glory to the Holy Protectorate of Malin. Glory to Elvenkind. ───────────────────────────────✦───────────────────────────────

they watch

✦ A RESTLESS NIGHT ✦ “Sleep does not take the watchful.” ---------------- [ ✦ ] ---------------- Ilse awoke with a start. As the torchlights within the clinic came to embers, only offering light orange whispers. Barely enough to paint the wooded walls with their flickering strokes. And despite the darkness that swallowed the clinic in its deep night, she shifted the furs keeping her warmth from her shoulders as she swiftly stood. Every sense locked unto the quiet shape lying nearby. Dragomir. Still tucked within the medical bed he'd been placed in. A slow exhale left her lungs in some sort of relief. Yet paranoia raised her shoulders with shrill tenseness. Gazing to the ever open darkness of the clinic, those iced eyes would narrow. And remove the glaive from her back. Stood tall at the aisle entrance, for any further disturbance. As beneath the armor, a soft tremor formed. It would be another sleepless night. ---------------- [ ✦ ] ----------------

✠ TO THE FAITHFUL OF THE IMPERIUM AND BEYOND; From modest beginnings - and quiet reverence, beneath the watchful gaze of GOD a union has blossomed. Once divided by station, distance, and silence - now stand as one in faith and purpose. So it is that Arnault Honeywine and Gwindolin Swann shall be joined in holy matrimony, by sacred rite. Honoring the divine design revealed within the Scrolls: that man and woman may become one in solemn covenant, reflective of Horen and Juli’el, and sanctified by GOD’s blessing. A celebration, thus, is declared - not of revelry, but of devotion. ✠ THE VIGIL OF PREPARATION; Prior to the ceremony, the temple will be swept in silence. King’s Ivy will be set to flame to soothe and uplift the spirits of the gathered. The faithful will be asked to remain in quiet reflection during this time. ✠ THE SACRAMENT OF MATRIMONY; The groom will be stood before the altar - and at the seventh and final toll of the Church bell, the bride shall be escorted forward by her brother, before the priest shall bind their hands loosely in cloth and trace the ash of the altar flame upon their brows. The union will then be sanctioned with words as ancient as they are divine; Sic enim Horen et Juli’el, ita nobis quoque. Hanc unionem nos in omni loco oculi Domini solidatur… As for Horen and Juli’el, so for us too. We solidify this union in the eyes of GOD, that we may draw closer to His holiest of unions. The couple then will exchange rings, cloaks or shawls as tokens of devotion, and speak their vows to bind them in love, suffering and faith. Once the words are complete- and the cross wiped clean from their brows, the bell shall toll another seven times - heralding the closing of the rite. ✠ THE RECEPTION; Upon the completion of the Sacrament of Matrimony, a reception shall follow within The Hounds House where all guests may offer blessings and share in warm drink and soft bread in celebration of the bride and groom. ✠ PUBLICLY TO; His Highness, Erwin Barclay, and all Citizens of the Principality of Reinmar Their Highnesses, Cecily and Edward Alstion, and all Citizens of the Archduchy of Alba His Lordship, Roger de Rouen, and all Citizens of the Margraviate of Drusco His Lordship, Istvan Ivanovich, and all Citizens of the Barony of Basarab His Highness, Coenrad van Aert, and all Citizens of the Principality of Blackvale His Imperial Excellency, Manfred von Berkhoven, and all Guardsmen of the Imperial Guard ✠ PERSONALLY TO; His Imperial Majesty Tiberias Horen, and his wife, Her Imperial Majesty Circe Horen. Ser Hodrick, with his kin, Godric and Orianne Swann. Her Ladyship Madelief Mareno, and Her Husband, Cassius Mareno. His Imperial Highness Hadrian Horen, and one maiden of his invitation. Bishop Josefina, and a single sheep Sir Sirius Mareno, Knight Commander, and one maiden of his invitation. Gwindolin Swann, Bride Lady-in-Aid to Her Majesty the Queen Sir Arnault Honeywine, Bridegroom Knight of the Order of the Red Dragon Left Fist of the Emperor Holsord Champion of Reinmar ✠ [OOC] ✠ WHEN: WEDNESDAY, @ JULY 2ND, 3PM EST WHERE: Alba Church [2277, 31, -208]

A Knight smiles upon its kin. Folding the paper close. "Congratulations, llir." Is murmured out to no one in particular, as the dark armor vanishes within the mists of the Northern forests - thoughts of well wishes for the two echoing within the chambers of the sworn swords' mind.

As the news would reach Vestariel- the Knight's crimson hues narrowed. It was folded. A whistle resounding. The echo of heavy hooves resounded, and she scooped herself up unto her stead by its leather. The entirety of her upper form would lean with the stead, as it tore through the dirt and grass pathings- all the way to Numendil. Where her gauntlet hooked at her helm- and roughly removed it from her head. "DRAGOMIR!" The ker' shouted, and should she find him there. Her brows furrowed into that dark crimson visage with great grief, and sorrow. "Tell me it is not true." "Tell me."