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About yandeer

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    Zaraleen Tamarid
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  1. ‘Markanz’, Natalya Elizaveta thought, the name rolling around in her mind like the soft cotton snow in her seasonal winterglobe. Perhaps if she shook her head enough it would sound right. ‘Ruthern, Barclay, and now Markanz. And a Baroness...’. Natalya would rise slowly from her position besides the hearth, nose sniffling ever so slightly as she wrapped her warm furs tighter around her. “I suppose I shall have to move all my belongings again, now, hmm? Such a pain, with the war going on.”
  2. Natalya Elizaveta held her darling children just a bit closer that night, staring blankly out and over the dining hall of Freising. “As these heathens, pagans, unworthy infidels have lived by fire, so shall they be burned by the flame of GODAN’s most holy wrath.”
  3. Natalya, still in her bridal gown, would rise from where she had been sitting next to Konstanz’s grave, having just finished recounting the strangeness of the bird-masked man appearing at her wedding. With a soft kiss placed against the burial marker, she would return to the inside of Freising and back to her new husband. ‘Natalya Elizaveta Barclay’. The name tasted strange within her mouth.
  4. Zaraleen Tamarid would glance over the new issue of Altar und Thron with great interest. “Tsk tsk... Roof bandits... We need to establish a force of Roof Haensemen to counter their operations. I, for one, know that our streets will not be safe until we hang all those spider-bandits.”
  5. ICH HATTE EINEN BRUDER IN MEMORIAM KONSTANZ MORITZ BARCLAY “Guard” the Barclay’s beckoned Baerin Furnival, occupied with handling the wounded Lucy Devorax “do you know where the body of the late Konstanz Barclay is?”. A delegation consisting of his family; Wilheim, Anton & Steffen Barclay, accompanied by Natalya Elizaveta Ruthern, Peter de Sarkozy, and Father Abraham Blumhardt had ventured to the ghosttown of Helena to retrieve his body, presumably used as an archery target. “Sure, follow me to the war camp.” Furnival beckoned, the entourage following without any words. Natalya and Konstanz’s brüders prepared for the worst: namely, a carcass pierced with arrows. Yet some unnamed guards had the decency to bury the beheaded man, albeit at an unusual location. As Father Blumhardt, Anton, Wilheim and Reinhard Barclay started digging in the soil: they eventually reached a makeshift casket with a sloppily painted Lorraine cross. Natalya wept as the brothers attempted to maintain their posture, only the young Steffen Barclay couldn’t hold back his tears. Father Blumhardt spoke: “We are here to say our last goodbye to our friend, Konstanz Barclay. He was truly a good, honorable and brave Human. He did everything to make his brothers and sisters happy, so that he could keep himself happy as well.Though unexpected fate met him, and he was executed by Helenian soldiers in an unfair trial.. Now, he is with GOD in the heavens, up there in the skies. Watching over his friends and relatives, together with other ancestors of the Barclay lineage. Let us have a minute of silence for him.” The entourage lowered their heads, as Wilheim stepped away for a moment. Anton, in a haze of clarity, propositioned to father Blumhardt and Reinhard to carry the casket to Freisburg for a proper burial. As the men carried the casket, Natalya and Steffen wept whilst trailing behind them. Once in Freisburg, the man dug a hole in the corner where a young Konstanz would often sit, staring at his elders sparring and tending to the livestock. A corner that now symbolizes his absence, as much as his empty chair at the dinner table. A man was taken from Haense, from his friends, from his brothers. A man could no longer toast to the success of others, embrace his betrothed, pat the heads of his nephews. That corner now served as the humble grave of Konstanz Moritz Barclay: He was trialed by the Solicitor-General Veikko Harjalainen, sentenced by the Emperor himself, and then, like the 10 million Lorrainians, beheaded by Ser John de Balain. A tragic death for an honourable Haenseni, an affront to the unity of our Empire. Nevertheless, Konstanz had found his resting place at home, with a new casket and proper tokens of remembrance, surrounded by his favourite flowers. May his sins be forgotten and his accomplishments forever remembered. Konstanz, meine brüder, wait for us in the Seven Skies. Amen. [[Special thanks for helping writing the post to]] Kippsz Draeris [[and for the event]] BorinSwordBane SquatGopnik1578 ThatDutchFellow Megaloschemos Beamon4 Draeris Kippsz MadOne ((i was coerced into posting this under threat of my end rod chest being looted. send help.))
  6. Natalya Elizaveta would give a customary sniffle, allowing a singular tear to run down her face. “It was the elves that did this. Somehow. I’m sure of it. Altar und Thron would not lie to me.”
  7. NAME: Zaraleen Tamarid NOBILITY (Y/N): N if not, GENTRY (Y/N): Y RACE: Human PAST EXPERIENCE : Little more than general adventuring.
  8. yandeer


    Zaraleen Tamarid was born in Cresonia to a shepherdess and a travelling trader from the Caliphate. She inherited her darker complex from her Qalasheen father, as well as her dislike for pork. Cresonian and Qalasheen cultures worked well together, to make Zaraleen a hard-working daughter and fighter who viewed herself as an equal to men. Just as Zaraleen would learn to love the sword and shield, she would also appreciate the finer things in life, such as art. In particular, she had a strong connection with nature and took it upon herself to work as a gardener of sorts, maintaining the elaborate grounds of the many summer homes of the city. Having worked long and hard from her adolescence, Zaraleen now finds herself in a position where she wants to leave behind her life of comfort to adventure, and perhaps win nobility for herself in the ever fluctuating court of Cresonia.
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