Cally

The O'Rourke Matriarch stared over the missive, nit-picking every line after her daughter asked her to do final proofreadings before sending it. Whispers filled Elias' Point, calling for more golden green cloaks and skirts to be made.

One Maerîl O'Rourke coddled a lute and lyre as she prepared to write songs of the great Ser Raug, an uruk of which her husband knighted with his own sword. . . She held her second eldest close as she recited the news.

WE CAN DO THIS BRUV

Ser Maerîl of Al'Ildic would smile at the mention of herself as allies after being shown such a missive by her spouse ( @Bones ).

"What?! This is nonsense! Jenny is no villain!" The Lady Maerîl exclaimed upon reviewing the missive with her companions, pointing to certain parts of the document with disdain. "Sounds like someone is sore in the bollocks that she did not accept his peculiar offer of servitude. . ." She chuckled with a scoff.

One Emigliana O'Rourke gazed at the sapphire-streaked heavens and wondered if the sacrifice of a keeper's life was all in vain. Nevertheless, she lit a candle that night within her chapel, uttering a prayer for the keeper she thought she did not know. "O, sunlit lord of the skies. . . I hope the sacrifice was worth the pain. I hope said servant suffered less knowing their virtue would become a piece in the greater puzzle of redemption. I pray for thee, whomever you are. . . For fighting in death, is never to be taken for granted. I hope your dying breaths were brave, I hope your shoulders were straight and rolled, that danger quivered at the sight of you. For you, I continue to fight To rid the world of this malice To live another day when you might not. May flame light your path May your embers be smothered by those you love Rest now." Unbeknownst, the fallen knight was a man she was kind to, a man she used to love, and now respected. Even though their last words were argumentative. . . She would write to him to meet again, knowing not that her letter hadn't arrived.

the G.O.A.T . . Thank you for this

MC Name: CallyI Discord: callypso Image: Description of Image: A tavern logo of a tower with a foamy head instead of a beacon torch atop Dimensions: 1 wide, 2 high

https://tenor.com/view/creatura-gif-18820276

VAL’DURE Issued on the 8th of Malin's Welcome, 132 S.A. [Tuesday, June 13th, 3PM EST] Two ancient houses, the adunian House of Rourke, and the Almanniric house of Stafyr from Hanseti-Ruska, join together to gleefully announce the betrothal and wedding of one Lady Emigliana Maeya Cristonia Iduna Anne Theodosia Anastasia O'Rourke and Lord Edwyn Isovar Stafyr for the announcement of a new fealty oath with King Tar-Númenatâr to restore the honor of Lady Emigliana's oath to her family aswell. That is why hereby; the bride and groom invite together these two houses and nations among the holy walls of Númendil’s own cathedral dedicated to Saint-King Caius within Númenost the Fair [The White City]. A reminder that gifts are never expected, but will be appreciated! SIGNED, Her Ladyship, Emigliana Maeya Cristonia Iduna Anne Theodosia Anastasia O'Rourke, Maestra de Musica la Hyspana, Court Musician of Númendil, Jovenaar of the Aulic Court His Lordship, Edwyn Isovar Stafyr In addition to immediate family from O’Rourke, Stafyr, and Kortrevich, the following have been personally invited: His Royal Majesty, Tar-Númenatâr and his citizens Her Royal Majesty Tári-Orelia of the House Darkwood His Royal Majesty, Georg I Her Royal Majesty, Sofia of Hyspia Her Royal Majesty, Edith Klaire of Aaun His Serene Highness, Aleksandr Otto Her Serene Highness, Amaya Milena His Royal Highness, Stefan Everard His Princely Grace, Manfred Barclay His Viceroyal Highness, Caesar Francisco de Pelear Her Royal Highness, Briar Pendraic Her Royal Highness, Caraneth Aryantë His Grace, Emir d'Abbassia Her Grace, Roslin Baruch Her Ladyship, Ailsa Baruch His Lordship, Alasdair Baruch Her Ladyship, Alyona Godunov His Lordship, Malcolm Gant Firr Friend His Lordship, Konstanz Barclay Her Ladyship, Aleksandra vas Ruthern Her Ladyship, Stefaniya Ipera vas Ruthern Mrs. Nicholya Samardzic Miss Nadia Samardzic Miss Inny Yuln'aher and all of her Bard College Her Ladyship, Vesta Her Excellency, Josefina Barclay His Lordship, Haus Weiss-Vuiller His Lordship, Walter Weiss Her Ladyship, Karyna Colborn Her Ladyship, Katia Colborn Firress Franziska Morovar Auntie Irene Fransziska

fartpack for me, fartpack for you!

Emigliana O'Rourke stares, mouth agape. . . yet, she smiled for her dear friend. Like Emma Karenina, she could be the surgeon-general, and a fantastic Koenas, she thought. Pondering on her far-off great-aunt.

One Emigliana O’Rourke whom was spending her time rushing about the labyrinth of Nor’Asath for injured, now found herself with a hand clenched to her forehead as she read the edict pinned to the notice board near her Karosgrad residence. That night she cried for her cousin, wishing that things turned out better for her. “It must have been a shift in her when tantej Esfir passed. . . From her strange behavior in Barrowton to this.. I-. . .” She spoke no more, and her head shook with some stifled empathy for the disowned woman.

Somewhere in the after-realm… a fickle man sniffles at his favorite nephews accomplishments, and his proclivity to fill the late Houndsman’s dirty shoes. Fabian might feel his uncle’s sweltering pride for him amongst a dream, if at all. The new Master of the Hunt is passed down a whistle for the lot of dogs that the old hunter once possessed. He’d now find that they all look to him with pleading eyes and long snouts, begging for his attention instead. Though they seemed exponentially happier to serve someone once again, much less a flaxen haired boy as bright as the sun. They smelled his uncle on him, and rejoiced as their sniffing party continued, and Fabian became houndsman.

Somewhere, a widow'd hunter tsk's his teeth at the missive, wishing that the advisor would have done him the dignity to ask for The Master of the Hunt's dutiful signage.

MC Name: CallyI Discord: callypso#0420 Image: dm for image - it is being finnicky ! Description of Image: A custom sign for a florist's shop! (Transparent background included, please!) Dimensions: 2 wide, 1 high

i love u wonder i’m ur biggest supporter this is so fantastic

INVITATION OF FEAST AND HUNT KORTREVICH I JEROVITZA - INVITATION OF D’ARKENT FAMILY FOR A CORDIAL FEAST 13th of Msitza ag Dargund, 468 E.S. Our heir-apparent, after settling within her father's seat due to his sudden abdication has found a rather unexpected friend, or rather many. Within the House of d'Arkent, an Orenian-originating family that now takes refuge in many nations, including the Kingdom of the Balian. Making such known, Countess Ileana Stefaniya Kortrevich and her respective regents, Lady Viorica Kortrevich and Ser Vladrik Kortrevich; happily invite the entirety of House d'Arkent to Countess Ileana's first official Jerovitz event in her new seat. This night shall include a hunt, and a feast of the hunt's spoils along with a jolly spit-bonfire to celebrate the successful hunt, and the hopeful emergence of a friendship betwixt our two houses. This shall be the first official hunt, hosted by the Master of the Hunt on Jerovitz grounds. [!] Depiction of the swamplands present around Jerovitz, where the hunt shall begin. Event Details! IV JOVEO MANN Her Right Honorable, Ileana Stefaniya Kortrevich, Countess of Jerovitz, Vicountess of Krusev, Baroness of Koravia Her Excellency, Viorica Irena Kortrevich, Grand Lady of Morrivi-Prikaz Countess-Regent of Jerovitz, Vicountess-Regent of Krusev, Baroness-Regent of Koravia His Honour, Ser Vladrik 'Houndsman' Iov Robaire Kortrevich-O'Rourke, Jovenaar of the Aulic Government, Seated Knight of the Knight's Table, Master of the Hunt, Regent of Jerovitz, Baron-Consort of Old Halstaig

Vladrik enjoyed himself a cup of mead in the arm of his dearly beloved, upon reading the missive he would chuckle. "Finally. Ea won't have to work with that fool anymore. They should'a never made him a knight." Though he was sworn in alongside Atilan, the man bore no respect for him. Vladrik slept a bit better that night thanks to Dame Alexandra's actions. "It's been too long of a time coming."

For the late Koeng, The Master of the Hunt knew all too well the meaning of some of his own mortality, but pondered on the integrity of Karl's understanding. Though his research came up with things to prolong the Koeng's life, but he denied them. And Vladrik understood why, unable to help it as he grimaced,. . . bells tolled in his ears once more announcing the death of a distant uncle. The King has fallen for another to rise. Lord Vladrik Kortrevich-O'Rourke a man of his gospel, and even more testaments. He found some peace in how the late Koeng entered the seven skies, he even polished his Longsword of the Seven Skies under the portrait of Karl Sigmar in the main room of his Hunting Lodge, one that the two had put into construction in Karl's later years, though his wife, Koenas-Consort Amadea had most of the say in the funding. The hunter regrets his absence of holding just one more hunt for the Koeng. Now, raising his knife to the light, another portrait came into vision in that pristine sheen - Georg Sigusmund of Kusoraev The hunter smiled. . .

“Finalement!” Vladrik, Esfir’s youngest brother whooped and hollered shouts of joy through the library of Morrivi Prikaz. He prepared letters for those that might care in far away lands. “Papej would be through the roof, Effie, ea just know it. . .” the missive, was wetted by the tears of a slowly maddening man.

Lynera, one of the original three on fabled days of CIrce . . . Awaits her copy and given glance at the graces of her sister. Oh, how she craved for pride in its contents.

Vladrik O’Rourke-Kortrevich stared at the flowing stream affront his house, exiting his chambers with tired eyes and an even more worn spirit. Tears made pathways in his book-dusted face that he hadn’t bothered to wash in days. A bottle of auvergnant vodka hung in his grip. A deep swig washed his throat with a burn. He coughed out a sob, and grounded the bottle with a CRASH! A broken boy became a man, and became wiser, but never whole. He longed for his wife . @Moenah