Mady

Oliviya.

By the grace of the Fae Queen and the blessed whispers of the Sylvan winds, you are formally invited to the Oliviyan Court, where revelry, mischief, and enchantment await. Come, one and all, to the hallowed halls of the Kastell Lesanov, where the night shall be filled with wonders unknown and secrets untold. On this auspicious eve, we beseech you to attire yourself in the finest garb befitting the season of the fae—elaborate and otherworldly, befitting the magic that lingers in the air. Let your costume speak of the wildwood and the faerie realms, where the boundaries between the mortal and the enchanted grow thin. The Kastell, draped in shimmering ivy and bathed in moonlight, shall serve as your stage. Within these ancient walls, quests shall unfold, and games of wit and courage will test the mettle of those who dare to explore the faerie court. Seek the treasures hidden in shadowed corners, and venture forth to uncover the long-lost secrets of the realm. As in the tales of old, the fae are known for their cryptic bargains and twisted riddles. You are encouraged to bring forth trinkets, tokens of your own world, to trade with fellow guests. For those who barter wisely, favors may be granted, or keys may be given to open hidden chambers within the Kastell itself, where untold riches and dark mysteries lie in wait. And at the heart of this wondrous night, a grand scavenger hunt shall unfold, as a test of both cunning and courage. The victor, crowned by the Fae Queen herself, will gain her favor and the promise of an enchanted blessing—one that may shape the course of your destiny. Come with heart unburdened, ready for both mirth and madness, for the fae shall play, and the night will stretch long into the moonlit hours. Will you prove worthy of the Queen’s grace, or be ensnared by the tricks of the court? The Oliviyan Court beckons. WREATH CEREMONY During the Wreath Ceremony, the ladies of the house shall present the debutante with a garland, carefully crafted from traditional bulbs and blooms, each chosen for the significance they bear. This wreath will serve as a symbol of all the hopes and blessings they wish for her in the days to come—an offering of fortune and grace, to be cherished on this momentous occasion. FIRST DANCE Accompanied by His Majesty, King Karl III, the Princess Royal will partake in the first dance of the evening. This cherished moment shall be witnessed by all in attendance before the floor is opened to the other couples and any suitors who wish to seek their chance with the lady. BURNING OF AGE On the eve of her hauchmetvas, the debutante, accompanied by her family and a single, trusted companion, will partake in the ancient rite of the Burning of Age. Three symbols, each representing a cherished aspect of her youth, will be brought to a great pyre. Before they are cast into the flames, the debutante must speak of the meaning behind each symbol, marking her transition from childhood to the threshold of adulthood. As the flames rise, so too does she step forward into a new chapter of her life. His Royal Majesty, KARL IV, King of Hanseti-Ruska and his royal pedigree. @CheekyNolan His Grace, DMITRI VAR RUTHERN, Duke of Vidaus and his noble pedigree. @Masouri His Grace, SIGISMUND LUDOVAR, Duke of Kvasz and his noble pedigree. @Legoboy7984 The Most Honourable, DAVYD COLBORN, Margrave of Kazan and his noble pedigree. @JuliusAakerlund The Right Honourable, DUNCAN BARUCH, Count of Ayr and his noble pedigree. @Pureimp10 Their Right Honourable, ERIK & EMMA KORTREVICH, Counts of Krusev and their noble pedigree. @erictafoya @sarahbarah The Right Honourable, KARL WEISS, Viscount of Novkursain and his noble pedigree. @CasChaos The Right Honourable, NERIDA AMADOR, Viscountess of Zvezlund and her noble pedigree. @Melpomenne The Right Honorable, SIFRA KORVACZ, Viscountess of Koppány and her noble pedigree. @Frawlic The Honorable, VARON KOVACHEV, Baron of Kovgrad and his noble pedigree. @Herod The Honourable, ADALINA VAN LEUVEN, Baroness of Furentaliz and her noble pedigree. @Dramatude The Noble, FLORENCE VALKONEN, Matriarch of the House of Valkonen and her noble pedigree. @Emm The Noble, ILYA IVANOVICH, Patriarch of the House of Ivanovich and his noble pedigree. @North His Royal Highness, ERWIN I, Prince of Reinmar and his royal pedigree. @Timer His Royal Majesty, JOHN II, King of Balian and his Royal Pedigree. @Andustar His Royal Majesty, THERIN I, King of Petra and his royal pedigree. @Tremerus Her Excellency, Milena Anastasya of Galahar @MunaZaldrizoti His Royal Highness, Sigmar Lorik Barbanov-Bihar @Halt Her Ladyship, Nadya Weiss @sarahbarah Her Ladyship, Louna van Leuven @RingAroundRosey Her Ladyship, Dima Kovachev @Frawlic Ser Joakim Colborn @Seuss Her Ladyship, Olga Ivanovich @scarahpot His Excellency, Ser Andrei Kortrevich @Gandhi Her Ladyship, Erika Kortrevich @Toffee Her Ladyship, Primrose Kortrevich @LuxyLucy Her Excellency, Mahaut van Leuven @pomegrad Boo @Sphinx His Lordship, Kazimir Weiss @ItsMisterPip His Lordship, Cardan van Leuven @PeachLova Duchess of Greywyn & Karosgrad, The Princess Royal

The world was silent. Oliviya opened her eyes, her breath sharp and shallow, and found herself surrounded by thick, curling smoke that clung to her skin, its tendrils tugging at her with an invisible weight. She blinked once, twice, but it didn’t clear. The air was thick, suffocating, as though the very act of breathing was an effort. Her gaze darted around, but there was nothing—only the swirling gray mist, swirling and folding in on itself, like an ocean with no shore. She reached out, her hand trembling, and it was then that she saw it. A mirror stood before her, tall and out of place in the midst of the smoke, its surface gleaming like a silvered lake in the haze. She could barely make out her own reflection, her pale face framed by wild hair, eyes wide in confusion. Something within the mirror flickered. Her hand, almost without thought, extended toward the glass. As her fingers brushed against the cold surface, the mirror rippled like water, distorting the girl's image. She gasped, watching as her reflection shimmered and shifted. The face in the mirror was no longer hers. It was a man—dark-haired, tall, and ragged. His eyes were wide with fear, his breath coming in quick, shallow bursts. He was running, his body moving through the trees of a dense forest, crashing through the underbrush. Something chased him—something unseen, but deadly. She could sense it, could feel the urgency, the terror that gripped him. But it was hard to see him clearly; his form blurred with speed, the image distorting as branches whipped across the mirror’s surface, creating shadows, hiding his face. The girl pressed closer, her voice breaking the stillness as she called out, "Wait! Who are you?!" Her words seemed to vanish into the smoke, voice unheard. She extended her hand again, feeling a deep, inexplicable need to reach out to him, to help. The moment her fingertips brushed the mirror again, she felt a pull—light and insistent. Before she could think, before she could stop herself, she stepped forward. Her foot met no resistance as she crossed through the glass, her body folding into the reflection. The air was different now. The smoke was gone, replaced by the sharp scent of pine and earth. She stood in the heart of the woods, the cool wind tugging at her clothes. She spun, searching for him, calling out, "Wait! Please, I am here!" But there was nothing. No answer. No sign of him. The woods around her were silent, save for the rustling of branches and the distant call of birds. Her heart began to pound in her chest as she realized—she was alone. The man, the one she had seen in the mirror, was gone. Her feet carried her forward, pushing through the underbrush, her mind swirling with confusion. Where had he gone? What was chasing him? And why couldn’t he hear her? But then, as she turned back toward the mirror—toward the reflection she had stepped out of—she froze. There he was. The man stood before her, his dark hair hanging in wild strands over his face. His eyes were wild, filled with a fear she could feel in the pit of her stomach. In his hand, a sword glinted in the dim light. Before she could speak, before she could move, he lifted the weapon. His eyes met hers, and for a fleeting moment, she saw something—a flicker of recognition, of sadness, perhaps even regret—but it was gone in an instant. Then, he struck. The sword plunged into her stomach with a sickening, cold force. The pain was immediate, but it wasn’t the heat of a wound—it was an icy, numbing cold that spread from the point of contact, chilling her to the core. Her breath hitched, but the cold, the weight, it was as if the very life was being drained from her. She looked down, eyes wide with shock, as black blood began to spill from the wound, dark as tar, pooling at her feet. The world spun around her as she staggered backward, her legs giving way beneath her. She fell, the cold, black liquid swallowing her as she sank deeper, deeper into the earth. The puddle beneath her spread, thick and viscous, and she realized—horror tightening her chest—that it was her blood filling the ground, darkening the soil, creeping toward her. The man stood above her, his face twisted in something she couldn’t quite read. His sword was lowered now, his eyes empty, as though he had no further care for her. The space around him felt like a fog, distorted, as if she were drowning in her own blood. The puddle began to rise, and she could feel the weight of it, feel it pressing against her chest, her throat, her face. She could no longer move, no longer breathe. She was sinking deeper, lost in a sea of blackness, the liquid creeping into every part of her being until she could see nothing at all. And as the last remnants of her vision blurred into nothingness, she thought she saw the man—hovering over her, his face now an inscrutable mask, like a ghost. And then, nothing. Only the dark, quiet woods, where silence stretched on endlessly, broken only by the whisper of the wind through the trees.

Oliviya wept for her tante.

A REINTRODUCTION OF LADIES IN WAITING From the Royal Haeseni Court c. 12th OF JOMA AND UMUND, 559 E.S. ㅤㅤIn courts of yore, structured involvements of nobles and commoners alike have been implemented to create an engagement with the Crown. Over a century ago, Princess Royal Analiesa Josefina implemented a new structure to the courts, introduced as ‘Handmaidens’, also referred to as Ladies in Waiting. To pay homage to the efforts of historical courtly etiquette, we give our gratitude and pour our own efforts into the re-implementation of Handmaidens into the Haeseni Courts. [1] Handmaidens In Nobility. HSH Analiesa Josefina, 433 E.S. ╠════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════╣ ㅤThe position of handmaiden is a privilege reserved exclusively for those of royal blood, specifically the Princesses of the realm and Her Majesty the Queen. To serve as a handmaiden under the crown is a highly coveted role, with rigorous expectations regarding conduct and public demeanor, particularly for those chosen to serve the Queen, who may have an unlimited number of handmaidens. Each Princess is entitled to three handmaidens, while the Princess Royal may have four. Serving under both the Queen and the Princess Royal is a prestigious honor, one that all noblewomen should aspire to attain. ┣───────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────┫ ❖ Her Serene Highness, Princess Oliviya Lorina Barbanov-Bihar, The Princess Royal ❖ Her Royal Highness, Isabel Adryana Barbanov-Bihar ❖ Her Excellency, Milena Anastasija Barbanov-Bihar ❖ Her Royal Highness, Zofiya Dosiya Barbanov-Bihar ❖ Her Royal Highness, Stefaniya Edvarda Barbanov-Bihar ╠════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════╣ ㅤAll women born into nobility are eligible to become handmaidens, though not those belonging to the Royal Family. For instance, while the Princesses of the Kingdom may choose any three noblewomen from the peerage to serve as their handmaidens, they themselves cannot hold this position. Women outside the noble classes can also be chosen as handmaidens, but they must first have a royal or noble sponsor who vouches for their health, character, and dedication. Typically, those selected as handmaidens are individuals who, in the eyes of the lady, have already demonstrated reliability, trustworthiness, and good character. In cases where there are insufficient candidates within the peerage, handmaidens may be selected from outside the nobility. ╠════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════╣ ㅤA handmaiden is expected to serve her lady with attentiveness and kindness, always ready to assist with a willing heart. Beyond offering help, she must be ready to listen, especially during difficult times. In essence, a handmaiden must embody loyalty in all her actions. Once appointed, this position is held for life, unless the handmaiden attains a higher rank than the lady she serves. In addition to providing emotional support, handmaidens are also responsible for assisting their ladies with practical matters, such as dressing for courtly events, applying makeup, and adorning them with jewelry. They may also deliver messages and help select outfits. In all things, the handmaiden must be ready to fulfill any request from her royal patron. ╠════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════╣ ㅤBeing chosen as a handmaiden to a member of royalty is a privilege in itself, but it also comes with various advantages and responsibilities. If a patron requires more frequent companionship and service, she may arrange appropriate living accommodations for the handmaiden. These living arrangements must reflect the handmaiden’s rank within the kingdom, ensuring they are suitable to her status in society. This arrangement allows the handmaiden to be more readily available to assist her patron, strengthening their bond and ensuring consistent, reliable service. Serving a Princess or Queen elevates the handmaiden’s status within society. The honor of this position raises her reputation, and in many ways, she becomes an extension of her patron, representing her honor and dignity. If a handmaiden is insulted, the offense extends to the patron, which can lead to serious repercussions if the handmaiden holds a higher rank. Being a handmaiden also brings social standing and the respect of others. In return for her service, the patron often supports the handmaiden in various aspects of life. This may include helping her find a suitable husband, advocating for her character, providing clothing, and offering recommendations for courtly appointments. The relationship between a handmaiden and her patron is one of mutual benefit, with both parties strengthening their connection over time. A proper uniform is required for those who serve in this esteemed position. A lady chosen to tend to her patron is typically given a special dress or brooch to signify the honor of serving within the Royal Courts. The quality of the dress or brooch corresponds to the rank of the patron, though the decision of whether to provide such a symbol is at the patron’s discretion. ╠════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════╣ ㅤA dismissal of a handmaiden is considered a scandal and a tarnish on the reputation of the lady involved. Loyalty, trust, and respect are the core values of the position, and any breach of these may lead the patron to dismiss the handmaiden. As a reflection of their patron’s honor, any crime committed by the handmaiden is grounds for immediate dismissal. If the betrayal is severe, it is customary for the patron to publicly reveal the transgression to warn others of potential disloyalty, thus preventing future employment of the handmaiden by others. ╠════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════╣ ㅤFor those who find interest in becoming a Lady in Waiting and Handmaiden to a Princess of the realm, you are encouraged to seek out the Grand Lady, Lady Mahaut van Leuven, along with the Royal maiden whom you wish to attend to. Her Serene Highness, Oliviya Lorina Barbanov-Bihar, Duchess of Greywyn & Karosgrad, The Princess Royal. Lady Mahaut van Leuven, Grand Lady of Hanseti-Ruska and Crow Warden of the Royal Court.

@garentoft @Dyl @GMRO @livrose @PerfectlyPeachy @Dramatude @Crusteh

this is debatable…

The cold eyes of Adalfriede would forever be ingrained into the young gir;’s memory, their intensity born to strike fear and inspiration into those to witness them. That same fear had lingered in the heart of for only a short amount of time before the girl quickly opened her heart to the woman she’d call Grandmother. That late night, when the red walls of the Lesanov echoed nothing but wind, a solemn handmaid would deliver the news of the Reinmaren Princess’s demise. All the young girl could do was slip beneath her covers once more, crying herself into a dreamless sleep

Upon hearing the official announcement of her beloved cousin's wedding festivities, a young princess would quickly rush to her garden - making sure to prune the bushes of flowers she had been growing in preparation for months at this point. “Lady Wilhelmina will look so beautiful.” spoke aloud to the flowers and vegetable plants that flourished around her. As was typical for the young Barbanov, she’d spend the next few hours alone in her garden, seemingly at peace.

In the stillness of the night, Princess Oliviya lay awake in her chamber, her gaze fixed on the dream catcher that swayed gently above her bed, its woven strands glistening in the moonlight. The soft hum of the night wrapped around her like a blanket, but her mind was restless. Suddenly, a gray figure slipped silently through the shadows of her room, flickering like smoke. Curiosity sparked within her as she sought out the apparition, her heart quickening with a mix of fear and intrigue. Just as she thought to return to the safety of slumber, the figure lunged, its icy grip locking around her, plunging her into an enveloping darkness that swallowed the light and all sense of comfort. Oliviya’s senses were overwhelmed as her subconscious unveiled a vibrant dreamscape of fluorescent colors. Pinks and yellows exploded around her, swirling in a kaleidoscope of hues that felt both foreign and exhilarating. She stood in a land that pulsed with life, each glowing orb surrounding her illuminating the landscape with an otherworldly light. Giant mushrooms towered overhead, their caps gleaming like polished jewels, while rainbow bubbles floated by, popping gently in a rhythm that echoed like distant music. Everything around her sounded muffled, as if she were submerged underwater. The ethereal atmosphere buzzed with a magic which tingled on her skin, and Oliviya’s heart raced with both wonder and unease. Just as she began to absorb the beauty, a flicker of movement caught her eye—a figure darting away into the depths of the mushroom forest. Driven by instinct, she followed. Her feet bounced off the pink feathery grass, springing her forward like a child on a sofa. The figure was quick, slipping between the enormous mushrooms, and she felt an urgent need to catch up. Who were they? Why did they seem so familiar? As she ran, a voice echoed in her mind—a soft, melodic whisper that came ineligible at first yet dwindled into clarity, felt like it came from the very heart of the landscape. Each phrase intertwined with the sound of the bubbling atmosphere, pushing her onward. Drawing closer to the figure, she started to recognize familiar characteristics. A flash of flaxen hair, a glimpse of an embroidered skirt—each time she thought she could see their face, they ducked just out of sight, always just beyond her reach. A mix of curiosity and frustration ignited within her. “Wait!” she called, though her voice was swallowed by the dreamlike ambiance. The figure led her deeper into the forest until they approached a hollow log that seemed to pulse with luminescent energy. Without hesitation, Oliviya crawled inside, the world outside fading as she squeezed through the dark, damp tunnel. Yet as she crawled, the light at the other end seemed to drift further away, a teasing promise of freedom that evaded her grasp. As she maneuvered through the cramped space, the faint music from earlier grew louder, luring her forward like a siren’s call. She clawed her way through, desperation mingling with determination. “Just a little further,” she urged herself, pushing against the damp earth, her heart pounding with each movement. Finally, as she reached the end of the log, she felt a rush of air and the light flooded in. But then, just as she emerged, the figure jumped out at her, their face inches from hers. Oliviya gasped, freezing in place as she looked into their eyes—wide with fear. Yet there was something horrifyingly wrong. The figure had no mouth, and though their eyes were filled with urgency, they let out muffled screams, a silent plea for help. Panic surged through Oliviya. She instinctively stepped back, confusion flooding her thoughts. The landscape around her dimmed, the once-vibrant colors twisting into muted shades as the reality of the moment crashed over her and she was ripped from the vision, gasping and weeping into her pillow. The world around her had gone still, yet the whispers of her vision still enveloped her mind. She’d mutter those words into memory as she sunk back into a dreamless exhaustion.

After years of mourning her recently departed mother, the young princess would grow comfortable enough to don color in her wardrobe, the world that had turned black and white now slowly regaining its fluorescence. Upon receiving her personal invitation, would break into a fit of excitement. Rushing around her room, the girl would begin to collect her ribbons and jewels, for she had a mask to craft!

I couldn’t agree with this more - props to you for putting it out there @Turbo_Dog! “Bad” characters or villainy characters hold an important part of the stories we are all creating, without them we’d live in some crazy utopia. That being said, I think sometimes we all forget to show our appreciation for these characters and the players behind them. It takes a bit of confidence to break the mould and play a character not everyone will like and sadly, often times the character is attributed to the players OOC personality. Big +1 from me on this post.

It had been over a year now since the young girl had lost her mother, yet the memory of the late Queen still lived on in the memories of her daughter. To witness Juliya’s descent into death's embrace was one thing, but to acknowledge and finally see her to rest was another level of acceptance had not yet come to terms with. For hours she would pray or spend time in her garden, even conversing with the dreary wisps which often flickered into her vision. Things had felt good for her once more, the healing had begun. Upon the news of Queen Juliya’s funeral, that familiar ache in her chest would begin to well up, bringing forth the harrowing memories of her ill mothers demise. At such a young age, such responsibilities felt impossible or too much. Still, the Princess upheld her vigil for her mother, preparing for her tiny heart to break all over again. For Juliya, she would do such a thousandfold.

Within her garden walls, a young Princess would do her best to rid her mind of the horrifying memories which seemed to not yet be ready to depart her mind, a firm frown settled upon her otherwise cheery countenance. “Lady Mahaut will be my hero, and the animals of the menagerie.” would declare to another presence lingering between the leaves and bushes of the garden plot. Maslo would merely respond to his companion with a muffled ribbit and a flop of his webbed foot.

An aurum blade of Raevir make would rest at the hip of a traveller, scriptures of Providence lining its fuller. As she traversed the realm with newfound freedom, the wind seemed to sing for her.

The last words her mother spoke to her would echo through the young princess’s mind. . .”Be the best you could possibly be”. The memories of her life with Juliya were filled with glee and innocence, having a mother to hold her at night and to kiss away her tears. Plucking flowers in the gardens and hearing the merry sound of the Queen’s laugh would be ingrained into the Princess’s memories, now more precious than life itself. The mirror image of her mother, adorned with golden curls of the Reinmaren and the same fighting spirit, the daughter of Crow and Eagle had known love through her mother’s heart and soul. Yet now finally felt loss and heartache and at such a young age, the Princess could only cry out her feelings - words were simply not enough to describe them. That night, as she watched the once beautiful spirit of her mother depart, she’d cry herself blind. For what was a world without a mother when you are but a little girl?

Penned by Lord Petyr Ludovar 12th of Tov ag Yermey 552 E.S. It is with great pleasure that we announce the celebration of the fifth name day of our cherished Princess Royal Oliviya Lorina and her noble brother, Prince Hogmund Jakob Barbanov-Bihar. This merry occasion shall unfold beneath the enchanting theme of “The Secret Garden,” inviting all to don attire befitting such a magical realm. Let your garments be adorned with floral patterns and nature’s hues, for all are encouraged to embrace the spirit of the garden. Games shall be afoot, and a bounty of delectable fare and fine libations shall be provided to nourish both body and soul. We extend this invitation to all loyal citizens of Haense and our esteemed allies. Let us gather in unity to celebrate the joyous occasion of our young royals, bringing forth laughter and cheer to our fair kingdom. Her Serene Highness, Oliviya Lorina Barbanov-Bihar The Princess Royal of Hanseti-Ruska, Duchess of Greywyn. His Royal Highness, Hogmund Jakob Barbanov-Bihar, Prince of Hanseti-Ruska, Duke of Akovia.

Hopping and skipping along a wooded path, a bundle of twigs and flowers in her hand, a young flaxen haired girl would carefully ascend the perilous ladder to a treehouse - a safe haven for her and other Haeseni youth. As she unloaded her scavenged bounty, the flames of small candles made of tree sap and beeswax would suddenly draw her near, the glow of such hypnotising into some otherworldly trance. . . A garden surrounding her - was it her own beloved plot? No. And those gates before her, they only aided to the girl's confusion and as she struggled to break through them, her tiny fists only earning bruises in her pitiful attempts. A feeling of dread filled her heart as the tap on her shoulder caused the hairs on the back of her neck to perk up. . .The Bihar had witnessed death plenty of times, it surrounded her and pestered her endlessly, yet this vision of hell and fury seemed to paralyse her in place as tears welled in those fair eyes, soon slipping down her youthful visage. As the sweet relief of Eden and tranquility washed over her, the little Princess would awaken for only a few moments, her eyes meeting the stars above her. Crawling to a bundle of pillows thrown into a corner of that treehouse, the child would curl into a ball and lull herself to sleep with a made up merry tune. . .and as she did, she’d be only slightly aware of the jingling of fairy bells and music which soon filled the woodland hollow below her.

Penned by Ser Joakim Colborn On the 11th of Tov ag Yermey 551 E.S. Va Birodeo Herzenav ag Edlervik, In the name of the Kingdom and the grace of our forefathers, we, the Royal children of Barbanov-Bihar, extend our heartfelt greetings to the talented artisans and skilled makers of our beloved realm. Thus, we seek to sponsor a master toy maker who possesses not only the craftsmanship to create delightful toys but also the passion to instill happiness in the lives of our young ones. This partnership shall enable the creation of cherished playthings for the princes and princesses of the Royal Family, as well as for the children of our esteemed Kingdom. We invite you to present your designs and ideas, with the hope of nurturing a collaboration that will enrich our community and inspire future generations. Your craftsmanship shall be celebrated at the royal court, and your creations shall find a home in the hearts of our children. We eagerly await your response, for together we can weave a tapestry of joy and imagination that will last for years to come. Signed, Her Serene Highness, Oliviya Lorina Barbanov-Bihar The Princess Royal of Hanseti-Ruska, Duchess of Greywyn.

Like many soldiers who found themselves braving the unknown of that festering portal beyond Valdev, Tatiyana found herself among a select few - mostly strangers aside from one or two familiar faces now covered by metal helms. Their descent into that labyrinth of blackened stone and necrotic left chances for much chaos to surround them or to deceive. Within a passing room, a glowing orb called out to them: ”Take me. . .” it thrummed within their minds. “Take it.” The cold voice of her uncle pulled Tatiyana back to her youth. Villorik’s lessons on morality and values appealed little to the little Ruthern in her youth, though she listened and observed. Yet, when it came time for her to hold a blade, her uncle had made it a challenge. “Take it.” He would repeat to her, as if it was some small feat for the girl. It was a simple challenge, though a challenge nonetheless. Tatiyana, knowing little skill at that age, simply jumped and chased Villorik, returning each time to being pushed down to try once again. Eventually she’d succeed, though after many, many tries. ¤ ✠ ¤ As screams would echo out and bounce off those blackened walls, the eerie feeling of eyes following each step that was taken seemed to grow ever more present. The darkness of the halls and the tunnels and crumbling fixtures of the tomb made it obvious that any light or spark of hope had been snuffed out and consumed by the darkness that billowed and welled up to create such an imposing and oppressive space. Tatiyana had grown accustomed to such places, yet each visit to such a dark place would come at an unpredicted cost. The lair of the Red Lich seemed to suck out all hope and soul within the air around it and within, no sign of GOD’s light remained, save for the brazen descendants and their raid against the undead and his cohorts. The memories of The Hexicanum crawled out of the hidden memories that Tatiyana worked so hard to suppress. The rat tunnels of corrupted magi, the flesh room and its living walls - even the death of her beloved uncle in front of her eyes at the hands of Gashadakuro, his claws harnessing power most evil would sell their souls to acquire. At Joakim’s side and with the Knight’s aid would Tatiyana make it out alive, though the mental cost was too much for a time. ¤ ✠ ¤ With each step came a growing likelihood of cobble collapsing beneath her feet, the tomb far less sturdy and stable than it was worth, though the question truly was: was this worth it? Cracked bricks were held together by sheer willpower and the crumbling walls surrounding them had not but meager moments of survival left, lest a wind or vibration fill the chamber and force every creature and descendant within it to their grave. Tatiyana couldn’t help but watch those cracks in the floors and walls, as if awaiting their destruction to begin right before her very eyes. In contrast, the crypts of Vidaus seemed to stand still in time, their upkeep seen nearly every day and the cold halls of the tombs within had little dust nor age showing. It was there that Tatiyana found peace and solitude when she needed it most, or when she wished to speak but not have anyone listen nor respond. The bright, shining tomb of her mother was decorated with candles and flowers, each a sign of the Ruthern children visiting their mother, Mikhaila. She had been taken from them at such a young age, most of the children hardly remembering her or what she looked like. Tatiyana, being the eldest, needed only to look in the mirror and be reminded of her. That bright, shining coffin of Vidaus was a place of safety. . .a tomb of love and remembrance. ¤ ✠ ¤ As the journey continued, all that was heard amongst their group was the cautious steps of boots against the cobblestone and the occasional muttering in distaste of their encounters. Death surrounded them in many forms - corpses, undead beasts and cursed objects all melded into the culture of the tomb, seemingly belonging in their very place for some time now. It was not until later their planned return to the surface did the chilling sound of a click echo through the foyer they stood within. Click. . .click. . .click! An awkward silence fell over the sitting room of the young Duchess as she sat across from an imposing figure who would eventually become her friend. Caius Primus sat just before Tatiyana, his ability to engage in conversation far surpassing hers, though his words held all the meaning the young girl needed. His advice and knowledge was so freely given yet treasured by her from girlhood to womanhood. It was Caius who first told her of what it meant to be righteous, and it was he who never left her evening prayers, even long after his passing. ¤ ✠ ¤ One after the other did those blackened, necrotic arrows pierce the gray armor she wore so proudly, poking through the fabrics of her clothes beneath her and burying their ribbed points into her flesh. Seven arrows, one for each of the skies she so revered, spread through poisons into her muscles and blood, beginning to taint the woman’s very soul. Tatiyana heard little of what was spoken around her, panicked mutterings and guttural speech which she could hardly understand. Silently she begged for her life, for the light of day and to see her children once more outside of that blackened tomb. . .yet the with each second she lay there, blood pooling around her felled form, the darkness consumed more of her. The pain of poison and necrosis, burning and ceaseless blood loss soon reached the epitome of its result: Darkness.

Amidst dreams of faerie dances and shooting stars, a little Bihar princess was tucked away in her tower surrounded by plush feather pillows and girlish toys. It was deep into the wee hours of the morning when a sudden coldness seemed to grasp at the youthful mind of , the frozen claws of her vision encasing her into some vision of paralysis. All the little princess could do was watch, tears staining her cheeks once more as the horrors of the realm filled her mind marking yet another restless and discomforting night.

It seemed that all Tatiyana's life, spent training and learning and hunting, had lead up to this moment - her newly appointed sister as Palatine declaring an official WAR, one she had been fighting since her youth with no official proclamation. The Duchess would swiftly send off her weapons to the Vidausi smith, ensuring her blades would be sharp enough to cut down any shadow which would find itself in her path.

THE TATIYAN EDICT REDEFINING HIS MAJESTY'S DUMA Issued by the Office of the Lady Speaker 13th of Grona ag Droba 549 E.S. KRUSAE ZWY KONGZEM VA VE EDLERVIK, For many years the Office of the Lord Speaker and His Majesties Royal Duma has operated consistently with the bylaws of former Lord Speakers, implemented throughout many reigns and regencies. Now, with some stagnation felt within the Royal Duma, the Edict of [Name] serves to bring together new and old practices held within the Office and the Royal Duma in order to bring in a new structure while also paying homage to the Duma’s of yore. The Crown does therefore proclaim the following: POWERS OF THE DUMA The Royal Duma shall be granted the following powers, to enact in faith to the people and Crown of Hanseti-Ruska; I. The Royal Duma and the Boyars may legislate freely unless otherwise noted. i. The Royal Duma may not legislate on nobility and titles. ii. The Royal Duma may not legislate on the military and its structure. iii. The Royal Duma may not legislate on the dynasty laws of the current Royal House. II. The Royal Duma may vote on and ratify treaties negotiated by the Crown and the discretion of the Lord Emissar. III. To call a vote of no-confidence for offices of the Royal Duma: Lord Speaker, Lord Handler, Lord Auditor. If the chamber achieved a two-thirds majority vote the recommendation is sent to the Crown for final decision. IV. To mandate national holidays. V. To Charter Royal Guilds and Royal Companies. VI. To regulate laws and domestic policies of the Royal State. VII. To enact proposals for naturalization and citizenship. VIII. To provide an official endorsement on the appointment of the Lord Chancellor and Palatine of the Realm. VIX. To nominate individuals for induction into the Royal Orders of Merit. STRUCTURE OF THE DUMA I. The dual-assembly structure of the Duma will be removed and the Duma will return to one main legislative body. II. All bills must be passed by a simple majority. The majority will be determined by the amount of Boyars present after roll call. III. The appointment of Royal Aldermen and the Grand Maer will return to a public vote for the citizenry to elect. IV. A term length of four sessions will be imposed upon elected officials. MEMBERS OF THE DUMA I. Membership of the Duma shall consist of the titled nobility bearing rights to sit on the Duma by grant of the Crown of Haense and four elected individuals not holding any title nor immediate inheritance to one. i. These elected officials being the aforementioned Grand Maer of New Valdev and three Royal Aldermen. II. Members of the Duma shall be called Boyars of the Duma. III. A Boyar of the Duma may appoint a representative to chair their seat in the Duma on a temporary or permanent basis. Elected Boyars may not appoint a representative. IV. If a Boyar of the Duma or a representative appointed on a permanent basis cannot attend a meeting of session, they may appoint a representative to temporarily stand in their stead for that meeting. V. If either the Lord Speaker, the Lord Handler or any other Duma officers cannot attend a meeting of session and appoint a temporary representative, the representative shall not assume the rights and responsibilities of the offices during their absence. VI. Representatives appointed on a temporary basis may not stand for election for Duma offices. VII. The representative of a Boyar of the Duma shall assume all rights and responsibilities of membership in the Duma during their tenure of appointment. VIII. A potential representative must be, i. Of 16 years of age or older. ii. A resident of the Peer’s fief. iii. Of moral character and in good standing. iv. A faithful member of the Church of the Canon. IX. A representative may vote and stand for election for Duma offices. X. A Peer of the Duma may recall a representative from sitting on the Duma. XI. If a representative is recalled, they lose all voting privileges and offices held within the Duma. XII. If a Peer of the Duma selects a representative to assume the rights and responsibilities of membership in the Duma, then the Peer of the Duma shall not exercise such rights and responsibilities until the representative is recalled. XIII. All appointments of representatives must be reported to the Lord Speaker or the Lord Handler. THE LORD SPEAKER I. The Lord Speaker shall be nominated through an election of simple majority. II. Candidates for Lord Speaker shall be nominated by the Boyars of the Duma or their chosen representatives. III. Candidates for Lord Speaker shall be chosen from amongst the Boyars of the Duma or their chosen representatives. IV. The Lord Speaker shall serve until resignation or termination of post. V. The Lord Speaker will not have a vote within the Royal Duma unless to cast the determining vote in an instance of a tie decision amongst the voting Boyars. VI. The Lord Speaker shall have the following duties and responsibilities, i. To hold meetings of Duma sessions and to determine their time and location. ii. To keep order and decorum within the chamber. iii. To establish and maintain the rules, direction, and order of the Duma. iv. To protect the security of the Duma. v. To set the agenda of meetings of Duma sessions. vi. To establish and appoint members to committees within the Duma. vii. To certify and sign all bills and resolutions passed by the Duma. viii. To endorse candidates to the Offices of the Duma, including the Lord Handler and Lord Auditor. ix. To summon citizens and government officers to testify in the chamber. A one year notice must be given unless otherwise agreed upon by xi. To wield the Black Bulava. THE LORD HANDLER I. The Lord Handler shall be chosen by the prerogative of the Lord Speaker. II. Candidates for Lord Handler shall be nominated by the Boyars of the Duma or their chosen representatives. III. The Lord Handler shall serve until resignation or termination of post or the termination of the current speakership. IV. The Lord Handler shall have the following duties and responsibilities, i. To serve as Speaker pro tempore in the absence of the Speaker and to perform the duties and responsibilities of office while serving as Speaker pro tempore. ii. To accept and submit all petitions and introduction of legislation by the Boyars of the Duma. iii. To transcribe sessions of the Duma into publications for record keeping. iv. To wield the Black Bulava in absence of the Lord Speaker. THE ROYAL INQUISITOR I. The Royal Inquisitor shall be chosen by the prerogative of the Lord Speaker. II. Candidates for Royal Inquisitor shall be nominated by the Boyars of the Duma or their chosen representatives. III. Candidates for Royal Inquisitor shall be chosen from amongst the Boyars of the Duma or their chosen representatives. IV. The Royal Inquisitor shall serve until resignation or termination of post or the termination of the current speakership. V. The Royal Inquisitor shall have the following duties and responsibilities, i. To summon citizens and government officers to testify in the chamber. ii. To review the legality and validity of introduced legislation. iii. To perform audits on the performance of the government, specifically regarding the implementation of legislation passed by the Duma. IV JOVEO MAAN, Her Excellency, Tatiyana Josefina vas Ruthern Duchess of Vidaus, Countess of Metterden, Viscountess of Greyspine, Baronness of Rostig, Lady of Morteskvan, Lady of Barrows, Protector of the South, Lady Speaker of Hanseti-Ruska.

I think this magic would be a really interesting addition and would appeal to a widespread playerbase that otherwise isn’t able to get their hands on magics. Big +1 from me!

Within the Kastell Lesenov, the cries of two newborns would echo through the halls, keeping awake those light of sleep. Swaddled within an ornate bassinet would be a set of twins, one with Carrion features and the other fair. The little princess would open her eyes to this strange and new world, dancing lights and unfamiliar sounds overwhelming the infant's senses - the only familiarity found was the beating of her mother’s heart as she held her close. As she’d drift off into newborn bliss, the child would begin her dreams of faeries and the unknown.