__Stal27

Lothar pondered on how he may heist every tiara, to gift to his sister Amadea instead.

"May he rest in peace, he is deserving of it." The Prince of Monterosa spoke as he was made privy to the news coming from Haense. Traversing through the Palace halls and unknowing of his father's presence upon the balcony. "King Joren will do Bona. . . him and Nadya both, they are worthy." He soon uttered in passing.

ECHOES OF THE FOREST THE WINDS STIR ACROSS THE KINGDOM OF BALIAN, AND WITH THEM, A SHADOW BEGINS TO CREEP ACROSS THE FORESTED BORDERS 10th of sun’s smile, 150 BA. EXPERT FROM A SCOUT OF THE NORTHERN FRONTIER, REGIMENT OF ST. LOTHAR WEEK 1. Our orders were to travel further upon the edges of the northern forests, order of the Hypatos Greye. Sunholdt, San Adriano, once in our path of patrolling is now left to another group, we have been redirected, though they claim this change is simple routine,just another patrol into the fringes of the Kingdom’s borders. Yet, as soon as we rode past that last village, something was amiss. . . our mounts, even they felt it. I’ve been stationed here for long enough, I know when something is amiss, the signs. . . they are apparent. At first, it was whispers, mad ones at that. The old Segnora Palama had spoken about dark figures in the forest, her voice trembling with fright as she spoke of campfires seated deep within the forests but we dismissed such despite her protests, citing the eeriness. It was brushed away as drunken fools, perhaps. Though soon the signs began to show themselves. . . they became far more apparent. The forest, often so silent, has begun to hum with a low, ominous sound. Birds have disappeared, the howls of wolves from these parts of the woods have ceased. It’s as though life has been sucked dry from the forest's edge. The villagers who remain have begun noticing such themselves, they all live on edge, it's as though they knew something which we hadn’t. Even the wind, its stench now protruded with ash and fear. WEEK 3. I’ve seen them, they were not rumors or ghosts they are here. Those - people. We rode more northerly this time, our patrol spotted an odd sight of what we thought was chimney smoke. Oh how wrong we were. We came across the settlement, it was small, home to a dozen or so people once. It was burnt, burned to the ground indiscriminately. Not a soul was spared. We do not know how it was never spotted, the whole place was silent, it was far too quiet. The ground was trampled with the marks of many boots, a mixture of heavier, brutish prints and smaller, quicker ones. The work of several different tribes, it seems. I found the charred remains of a house - a woman’s hand, still clutching a broken trinket, the only thing left of her, of them. These raiders - they do not just look for food or shelter. They’re looking for something else. Vengeance, perhaps? We do not know The town had no defenses to speak of, and still, they came like a storm, sweeping through the night. I can’t shake the feeling that this is only the beginning. I’m hearing rumors from the neighboring villages - the barbarians are organized, and they’re moving like a tide. They don’t seem to care about our borders, and their numbers. . . Well, we do not know. WEEK 5. I’ve encountered them finally - rather we have encountered them. They are not wild beasts or simply raiders as everyone believes or assumes them to be. No- No, they are far more methodical, they are planned. Everywhere they go, chaos reigns. They leave nothing behind but destruction and wreckage. . . they are different. I’ve even found a harrowing structure. . . an old trail took me through and into the heart of the forest, strange markings of symbols carved into the tree. . . they are no cannonists, that is for certain. They are not civilised, they are barbarians. I do not know what is to come, I fear in fact for what is to come too. . . but I fear that it is far too late for hopes that these peoples may simply retreat. I’m sending this report to Hypatos Greye. I pray that we are victorious in the wars which are to come but I fear that it shall be bloody. It began with silent whispers, rumors of figures that hid and camouflaged themselves within the very undergrowth of the forests themselves, eyes glowing like a hungry pack of wolves. Villagers on the outskirts, bordering the very forest spoke about the charred and smoky scent that accompanied the forest now. Glint of steel apparent upon the horizons and shadows lurked just beyond the treeline. It was dismissed as frantic imagenings and the ramblings of local folklore due to proximity to the untouched and untrained wilds, yet soon it became apparent that this was hardly the case. Days passed, the raids increasing in frequency, far more organised for simple scouts to battle against, those who ignored the signs soon realised that they were standing upon the edge of something far darker then they had imagined. Those who lived near the edges of the Kingdom’s forests could no longer sleep as soundly as they might’ve before. As far as San Adriano, Sunholdt and Fort Perscus could witness stacks of smoke in the dense forests that had not yet been charted through as of yet. Many knew that there was something dark - something coming. And as reports flooded the officers of Regimental officers and outlying villages, a singular matter was apparent: This was no simple band of raiders, nor were such attacks random. The raids grew coordinated, vicious but worst of all, brazen. The figures in the woods were not simple wanderers or drunkards - they were an entirely new force. A force gathered and it was apparent, they would not be retreating.

Thanks to Stal too for keeping me sane... yeah your welcome cheese... in all seriousness +1 from me, very bona guide

𑁍 ALEGRIA I UNITAT 𑁍 𑁍 JOY & UNITY 𑁍 ISSUED BY ⚜ His Highness Lothar Casimir and Her Ladyship Isidora Basrid ⚜ IN THE YEAR OF date B.A. THE NATION OF BALIAN IS BLESSED TO BE SETTLED along the fertile southern coasts. Beaches line the roads which connect nation to nation, framing them for all who walk, run or ride along them. Portoregne, the crowning city of the Balianese, equally revels in the bounty these coasts bring. Connected by a singular bridge, the city sits atop its own personal island and is encased in its own coastline. OVERLOOKING THE CITY IN ALL OF ITS VIBRANT GLORY is the flora; vegetation, flowers and trees which fill the field and plain, growing in abundance to decorate the mountainside and to feed both the wildlife, and the people who live off of their gifts. OVER TIME, THE BALIANESE PEOPLE HAVE PLACED MEANING AND PURPOSE on these various plants found amongst their land. Some significant for their meaning, or some for their value in food and drink and medicine. They have cultivated and developed an abundance of uses for the plantlife, and it is uncommon to find a household without some variation of significant flowers within. AVE Her Royal Majesty, KATHRYN OF RHEN; Head of La Cort de la Taronja ──────────────────────────•༺۝༻•────────────────────────── THE EVLAVEIA BLOOM ── A colored sketch of a growing bunch of Evlaveia from a Herbology book. ──────•༺ ⚘ ༻•────── WILD GROWN AND SCATTERED WITHIN THE WOODLAND, which surround the city of Portoregne, these blooms are used as a symbol of dedication, and were given between friends and lovers as a sign of a promise. A small bunch of these could be rather insulting, insinuating that the giver of the arrangement did not invest enough time into their harvest. A large and blossoming assortment, however, could symbolize a deep reference for the giftee. The Evlaveia Bloom grows in various neutral tones of white, yellow and orange, but it is not uncommon to find dyed versions sold within the local florists. ─────────•༺۝༻•───────── THE LUMINES LOULOUDI ── A cartoonish depiction of a Lumine Garu amongst a bush of blue blossoms. ──────•༺ ⚘ ༻•────── A FLOWER LOVED BY THE LUMINE GARU, hence its name. It is known to grow within bushes that surround homes and buildings. Its seeds are scattered by the Garu as it flies about in the early morning, to sing its waking song. This resulted in the flower having no one particular place of growth. They blossom in the late spring and early summer, and with so many petals on each bud, were a vibrant reminder that the comforting heat of the summer was closing in. ─────────•༺۝༻•───────── THE RUBECIA ROOT ── A farmers depiction of the Rubecia Root growing alongside his crops. ──────•༺ ⚘ ༻•────── A FLOWER AND ROOT DUO WHICH COULD BE FOUND FARMED AMONGST A CROP of root vegetables. Capable of growing woven in a feel of potatoes, carrots and so on, this flower was a hardy delicacy enjoyed by the Balianese both visually, and through eating or drinking. Its blossomed flower made it easy to identify amongst the crops, with its stem topped with what appear to be red berry-like buds which never truly bloom. These themselves could be used as a garnish to a dish and are known to be fairly sweet. The root of the plant grows rather thick, akin to ginger in its shape. It can be chopped and used in replacement of a vegetable or stewed in water to create a sweet syrup. ─────────•༺۝༻•───────── THE CAVALLIS BLOOM ── Depiction of a knight’s favour prepared to be handed out ──────•༺ ⚘ ༻•────── KNOWN IN COMMON AS THE KNIGHT’S FAVOR, This simple, pure white flower is commonly handed out by Knights and Dames as a token favour at jousts and other noble games. With six large and slightly curled petals, several of them in a bunch create a voluminous and striking arrangement on their own. Their stems are often kept long to add to the image of grandeur. A bunch of all opened blossoms signified an appreciation for the individual that was public and known, whilst one that was scattered with buds still to come to bloom eluded to something that still needed more time. ─────────•༺۝༻•───────── THE ACULEATA FLOWER ── The portrait of the thorny flower upon a citizen’s balcony ──────•༺ ⚘ ༻•────── A THORNY THING OF A FLOWER THAT IS FOUND GROWING AMONGST THE ROADSIDE bushes that border the southern beaches. It is assumed that these flowers once began their days within the desert of Balian’s founding land, and over time, they adapted to the danger that came within the heated, tropical sands. The plant grows in abundance, but its buds and leaves are extremely small. Thorns ward away hungry predators- which ensures the plant has the best possible chance or survival where vegetation was once scarce. ─────────•༺۝༻•───────── THE ORANGE TREE ── Branches of an orange tree found draped within the gardens of the Palace of Monterosa ──────•༺ ⚘ ༻•────── THE ORANGE TREE, A POPULAR CITRUS FOUND GROWING WITHIN, noble gardens and greenhouses as well as the Palace of Portoregne’s courtyard. It is said that the Queen Consort, Her Majesty Kathryn of Rhen, favors the fruit to a point where whole festivals are themed around them. The Orange Tree thrives in the southern heat, and is characterized by its delicate white flowers which grow amongst the oranges themselves. ─────────•༺۝༻•───────── THE SOLVIS TREE ── An artist's depiction of a pair of Lumine Garnu’s enjoying an olive treat ──────•༺ ⚘ ༻•────── A TREE AS OLD AS BALIAN ITSELF, the solivs, known also as an oliver tree is both a staple and testament to both the Balianese landscape and culture itself. With short-twisted branches and short leaves can be found upon the rolling plains to even the estates of the peerage and royalty alike. With gnarled, twisting trunks and leaves coloured of silvery-green, the tree, mighty and gentle, is a known source for the shade amongst the Balianese. Furthermore, the smalle, golden-hued fruits borne by the branches of the tree itself yields rich flavours and oil, seeing its use in nearly most if not all Balianese meals. ─────────•༺۝༻•───────── THE MOONFIG TREE ── - ──────•༺ ⚘ ༻•────── A TREE OF MYSTERY AND SUBTLE REVERENCE, the Moonfig has come to be known as a staple for Balianese gardens and orchards alike, with pale silver leaves in colour that rustle amongst the warm coastal winds. Unlike most if not many fruit-carrying trees in the lands, harvesting from the moonfig tree comes beneath the moon as opposed to the sun. Delicate, this purple-skinned fruit is known to ripen only in the depths of night when the sun has passed. The uniqueness of this fig has thus attracted an almost mythical and folklore status on its origins. The Moonfig’s fruit is delicate, soft to the touch and enjoyed fresh, dried or fermented into wine. Due to its sweetness, the fruit is known to provide a fair and good taste, fermentation into wine offers a distinct taste from grapes. Saps of the moonfig is known to be turned into balms and paste, often to treat dry skin from the Balianese heat. Yet, the mystery of the tree does not conclude in its origins. Introduced by Cardinal Ivan Lotharia, the Moonfig holds significant cultural importance. It is said that those in courtship who share a Moonfig fruit beneath its branches under a full moon will find their hearts forever entwined. Moonfig saplings are often blessed by priests of cannondom, believed to bring wisdom and prosperity to the land they occupy. In some archipelagos, its twisted and gnarled wood is carved into charms, thought to ward off restless spirits and guide dreamers toward good fortune. ──────────────────────────•༺۝༻•────────────────────────── THE BALIANESE CONSIDER THEMSELVES BLESSED FOR THE ABUNDANCE OF plant life that they are able to live from. They have seen their home change and mould through desert to lush and tropical sun, and so did the vegetation they lived alongside. Now, in Aevos, there is never a lack of something growing around and within the city. Homes are decorated with flower boxes outside each window, fruit trees thrive along roadside and in gardens. FOR JOY, FOR UNITY Per Alegria, Per Unitat •༺ ⚘ ༻• Her Royal Majesty, KATHRYN OF RHEN, Queen-Consort of Balian, Princess of Providence, Duchess-Consort of Helena, Lorraine, and Reutov, Countess-Consort of Pompourelia, Viscountess-Consort of Eflen, Anatis, and Valio, Baroness-Consort of Renzfeld, Brucca, Valens, Malenos, Montcoure and Ciavola, Lady of Portoregne, Atrus, and Monterosa, etcetera. Her Excellency, CALLIOPE NOVELLEN-TUVIA, Baroness of Tuvia, Palatadoria of La Cort de la Trajona His Royal Highness, LOTHAR CASIMIR JAMES NOVELLEN, Prince of Monterosa, Duke of Atrus Her Ladyship, ISIDORA JAHANA BASRID, Ward to Her Majesty the Queen

AN ADVISORY ON TRAVEL THE KINGDOOM OF BEELAIN In honour of Atrus-Beelain ISSUED BY THE CROWN OF BEELAIN 7th of Sun's Smile 149 BA TO ALL BEELAINIANS, The safety and security of all BEElainian citizens is paramount. It is of upmost importance to the CROWN OF BEELAIN, thus with the happens in the past Saint's Week, it is saddening to see that the kindness and wish for aid has been taken advantage off, it has been ABUSED. Thusly, for the sakes of safety of every BEElainian, citizen or not, the crown of BEElain has thusly decided to act upon recent happenings. the happenings taking place a few day ago, it is henceforth the decision of the councils to enact a policiy of advisory of travel away from the safety of the walls. Therefore, it is the recommendation of the crown for every citizen to, 1. Travel in numbers, do not travel by your lonesome and ALWAYS travel with an adult. 2. To not travel if it is not necessary. 3. To not trust strangers or anyone you do not recognise, to instead leave such to the adults. SIGNED, HIS HIGHNESS, Lothar Casimir James Novellen of Balian, King of BEELAIN HER HIGHNESS, Isidora Jahana Basrid, Queen of BEELAIN

That very night, in the Bascilica of Holy Supernals, the Prince of Monterosa prayed for the health of their Northernly allies.

Lothar wondered what it was like to be a twin, however after some thought, he was glad that he indeed did not have a twin. "We should travel to Salia to see them soon." He mused.

"How. . . has that boy managed to write something. . . comprehensible?" Spoke Lothar as he stared towards the parchment, swiftly pinning an inquiry as to whether or not this was the same Tobias Vuiller or if there was a mistake.

Lothar read the contents of the parchment with a thin smile, pleased that Isidora's hard-work and his own work was finally released, positively content and prepared to write much more!

From across the continent, the story of the Patriarch has come to be well known through the stories told by the Cardinal Ivan Lotharia. Feared, revered, whatever they thought about him mattered naught as his tale was well known. Thus as the champion of light succumbed as was his fated time, a candle lit was lit in honour and reverence by the Balianese Prince alongside the Lotharian Cardinal.

“Her writings on Gems is quite Bona, Nen?” The recently King-Elect of BEElain, Lothar spoke, eyes scanning the missive as he held it for the Queen-Elect, Isidora. @Lirinya

“I love Temesch, I love Temesch, I love Temesch.” An elderly and dead former Count of San Adriano declared in the seven skies. “So I love these events for they must be GUTT.”

MC Name: Stal27 Discord: Stal27 Image: Description of Image: A painting of Saint Lothar Dimensions: 1x1

"I love the Regiment." The young Lothar spoke as a missive was published, pinning a poster of the Regiment upon his wall thereafter.

“So this is how BEEmocracy ends.. with applause for this senate. There is no representation for BEELAINIANS. This TRANSGRESSION will Net go unanswered. . . There must be representation or there will be action!” Lothar declared dramatically as his brother had processed his own outburst, the child struck gauntleted fist against the wooden table they were gathered around wincing thereafter as he huffed an ‘ow’.

OFTEN AS IT WERE, A LETTER WAS FIRST DISPATCHED TO THE CROWN, ITS CONTENTS OPEN AND TRANSPARENT AS MUCH OF HIS REIGN ALWAYS WAS A TAPESTRY’S END San Adriano 144 Tick, Tock, Tick, Tock The midnight hour draped the young man’s room in a hue of thick black, the colour akin to even the darkest of obsidian. How long had he been awake? What world had he awoken in? The sudden completion of ink upon the quill had awoken him to much confusion, yet he did not panic, he felt ease and peace, the first time such a feeling was had since perhaps the death of his wife some years ago, he attempted to recall such a fact but much like many other things, he lost track, time, time, time, he imagined though to no avail, instead his mind was clouded with confusion, Where was he? From his window, his eyes gazed out from the room he had occupied since he were a boy, the window overlooked the cliff which his family’s keep was perched atop, Petra, Balian, Salia, the island of - in the distance of the Balian horizon would flicker before his eyes where he simply gazed outwards too, uncaring of what was happening for he was blessed with peace instead. The air outside grew crisp, ladened with the calm of midnight that had just struck, the familiar view of his surroundings had garnered the attention of his gaze before they inevitably shifted to his large overcoat which laid messily across his beddings, beckoning him towards it. August sat silently and alone within the confines of his room, darkness kept at bay by the constant flickering of a candle that was slowly concluding its life as wax began to overflow in its hold, foreshadowing what he imagined and mused crudely, a metaphor perhaps. The air was thick with the scent of parchment protruding the room as distant sounds of waves crashing against the cliff-side painted a serene moment within his room. Tap, Tap, Tap Did the man’s fingers tap against the wooden desk, his expressionless features betrayed by none, he always good at it, at hiding much of his emotions, he rarely offered any hint at what he felt, what he thought, many would guess, only a few could ever tell what was truly being thinking and yet, almost none who could ever decipher the gaze of the man lived for as long as he did, those who did were often far and scattered, their persons unbeknownst to the lands at this point. Screechhhh, the chair’s legs screamed as he excused himself from his study. “Enough. . .” He thought, shrugging at the seeming dream he was caught within, the Temesch would drape his overcoat, excusing himself from the confined safety of his room as old floorboards creaked under his weight, from the corner of his eye as he began his departure, his room began its own, it crumbled slowly yet surely, whisking away into nothingness as though it had never existed. Each step he took were like a whisper in the silence of midnight, but silence spoke the loudest as each step was beholden with memories that sapped him like a snake might, it was not painful, reliving the memories that he re-lived was a reminder of the good, but also the bad, he couldn’t decipher which he found more of, if his life was filled with good or with bad but to him it mattered none for soon he might find himself far, far away from such recollections of events, a place where a different life perhaps awaited him. Despite it, a glance to his right had found his eyes upon a brief mural of the family, it was their dining room- so soon he briefly thought as time seemed like nothing but an adherence to his wants, he wished to get on with whatever he was doing in this dream of his, yet he could not escape the lingering thoughts, of the spirits that once wandered the halls and rooms of the keep as he himself did. Creakkkkkk… Did the door eventually open, exposing the foyer of the keep. And much life before, the illuminance of various hearths, the flickering of candles offered light to the figure that seemed to be performing a tour, a pilgrimage of his own throughout his permanent home. The busts, murals, etchings of the family’s past and present alike were scattered across the foyer much to his chagrin, the sight once filled him with pride but now only lived to serve as a memory of those who had come before, of his duties to the house, to the future who would be entrusted with such duties and he sought none of it, he sought peace and yet in a place such as this, it felt as though it was the furthest he could be from such wants. He approached despite this however, into the hall that was not grand, it was simple but it spoke a thousand words and it was preferred. As the hall and room were adorned with the livery of Temesch and the busts of his predecessors and successors alike, he released an audible sigh deciding that perhaps, one last view, one final look would be acceptable, one final reminder. The hearths and candles continued to cast their glow, but it was the former that casted its warmth on a cold night such as this, it casted its warm glow upon the features of the Temesch as his voice finally filled the room once more. “I wonder. . . if this warmth I feel, if it is the same my Father felt before me. . . before he left. If I leave nothing else, I wish for at least this to be true. Then perhaps I might know, my time may end pleasantly if I wished well.” He mused. “Do you not believe it did?” A voice suddenly spoke, tearing any semblance of hope that he might’ve been alone in his final few moments. The Temesch groaned and his eyes snapped across the room, seeking to witness the figure which spoke but to no avail, he wondered if he had truly gone mad. “I would like to not be reminded of it. I know what I believe, but I will not speak it, I wish to be free of it.” He retorted, a shake of his head followed, hues and strands of red draping across his features. “Why? Lord Temesch. Are you not pleased with your work?” The voice spoke once more, cutting deeply within the heart of the Temesch as he grew silent, only for it to be followed. “Did you fall short?” The man struggled for words, jaws gritted as he shook his head once more, he answered naught however, instead opting to continue his steps further and further into the keep as the areas he once explored began to fade into nothingness. “You speak naught. But it is evident that you have regrets in many things. You have failed, but you have succeeded. You will perhaps leave a lasting legacy and impact or perhaps you will not. You will perhaps be remembered, perhaps you will be forgotten to the pages of history as another man, are you at peace with this?” “I am.” He declared at once, through gritted teeth. “What will happen to my memory? . . I do not know, I do not wish to know.” He repeated. “If you wish to forget, does it mean that your duty to this Kingdom and this House, conclude?” It was questioned. “Does your death conclude your duty?” “Conclude my duty? My duty will never cease. . . it is what has kept me persistent. . . it is that, which I shall never cease to chase.” The Temesch finally admitted. “It is that, which has allowed me to fail. . . it has provided me with lessons I pray that the successors of this house learn.” - "For I will always watch, if not in body, then in spirit. Silence. Silence, Silence, Silence. It enveloped the room which the Temesch now stood within, much to his own surprise and perhaps even dismay, he was once more in the foyer, staring upon two doors, closed as he was finally spoken to. “You may return, to continue with your work, or you may find the peace which you seek.” - “Decide your fate, Lord Temesch. But think of this, when does a man recognise and realise that his time to lead has concluded? When does he realise that the lands in which he serves requires him to depart from his position? When does his work end?” “I do not know. I do not have an answer. But I know this, that these lands, this house, it no longer has a need for me. It is ruled upon by a council picked by my very hand to serve this land's purpose. It is led by a crown that has been invigorated by the ascension of a good man, guided by the faithful and ever present Cardinal. This Kingdom does not require my physical being, it shall have my presence in spirit should it ever require it. It shall have the House Temesch to guide it in ways which I could never imagine.” - “It does not need me anymore and I bid, knowing that if nothing else, my duty shall never cease.” “We shall see what they deem you as, Lord Temesch.” - “You have made your choice, find your peace.” Despite the warning which he received, the Temesch in his final moments strode towards his door as the world around him crumbled into light not of black and darkness, but of blinding light, he paused however, hesitancy in his act, though not out of doubt, but to depart knowing that his final words were a jest. “Tell that grumpy old Cardinal, we have a game to finish when he is done.” And thus it was, on his final visit to San Adriano, August Benedict Temesch et Martiel rested for the final time, his passing one coming from natural causes.

The Prince of Monterosa, upon being informed of the letter would offer a singular nod to his tutors, he sat in silence broken only by his request once delievering a prayer for the dame's health. "Tell me a tale of this knight of Balian, I wish to learn."

Scribbled below the proclamation would be written a candidacy of similar handwriting to the announcement. NAME: Lothar Casimir James Novellen POSITION: King

TO FIND THE CROWN RETURN OF THE KINGDOOM In honour of Atrus-Beelain ISSUED BY THE KINGDOOM OF BEELAIN 12th of Lothar’s Gift 144 BA TO ALL BEELAINIANS, A WHOLE year ago, the dream that was once BEELAIN was recognised and organised once more. NO longer would the children of BEELAIN have to serve another FAKE and FALSE kid-kingdom that did not care for the wishes and dreams of all BEELAINIAN’S, but no more! With the return of the Kingdoom, the kingdom must now make way and recognise something else. . . no more will the Kingdoom need its protectors, because BEELAIN will prosper and will continue. To this end, the Kingdoom needs TWO BEELAINIANS to rule, the kingdoom MUST be ruled by a strong CROWN and as usual, a strong crown, MUST have a KING and a QUEEN. To this end, the Kingdoom of BEELAIN, in recognition of a strong leader, calls forth an election! To elect and return the KING and QUEEN of BEELAIN and lead the Kingdoom even further! Where no other kingdoom has been before! First we will find candidates and THEN we will elect a KING and QUEEN Thus those who see themselves as FIT and ABLE to take the position of KING and QUEEN, may volunteer themselves under his proclamation from the protectors of BEELAIN and BEEMAUCRACY [OOC] SIGN UP: NAME: POSITION: [KING/QUEEN] SIGNED, HIS HIGHNESS, Lothar Casimir James Beevollen of Beelain, Protector of BEELAIN HER HIGHNESS, Josefina Juliet Elisabeta de Beelear of Jospia, Protectoress of BEELAIN, Savor of Baaljeet I HIS HIGHNESS, Elias Constantine Beevollen of Beelain, Prince-Speaker of BEELAIN, Protector of BEEMAUCRACY

"Papej Ivan only Stands on business." Declared August.

Within the depths of the southern Balian Palace, a young Lothar would be engrossed in reading the works of the Lady Kortrevich.

The Prince of Monterosa, at the sight of his first personal invite would frame it. Forever recalling the invitation as his first one.

A DREAM OF BEELAIN RETURN OF THE KINGDOOM ISSUED BY THE KINGDOOM OF BEELAIN 15th of Lothar’s Gift 143 BA Once upon a time, in a land, far, far away, legends and stories say that there was a place called the KINGDOOM OF BEELAIN that was once a loved and pros-perous KINGDOOM, it was BIG and STRONG, it was FAIR and LOVED. . . but then it had broken. Since that time, maybe Kingdoms came! But none lived or survived for long, but no more! No more will the kids of Beelain serve under a false Kingdoom with a lot of BAD names! Because of this and many more reasons, After much, much, much time passing and many, many, many talks with friends. The KINGDOOM OF BEELAIN will RETURN and when all of the kids are around as well as other kids who are our friends who can join, then BEELAIN will have a KING and QUEEN and will rule the KINGDOOM! Because of bringing this back, Prince Lothar and Princess Josefina will be titled as, ‘Protectors of BEELAIN’ and Prince Elias will become PRINCE-SPEAKER of BEELAIN because we love BEEMAUCRACY, with their work to PROTECT the KINGDOOM and make sure that it never falls again! To pesky and troublesome kids! Because of BEELAINS’ return, there will be many, many titles, councils, courts, sleepovers, tournaments, parties and many more things! Everyon CAN join us and you SHOULD join us. SIGNED, HIS HIGHNESS, Lothar Casimir James Novellen of Balian, Protector of BEELAIN HER HIGHNESS, Josefina Juliet Elisabeta de Pelear of Hyspia, Protectoress of BEELAIN, Savor of Baaljeet I HIS HIGHNESS, Elias Constantine Novellen of Balian, Prince-Speaker of BEELAIN, Protector of BEEMAUCRACY

"Oh, the Dona Atriana did listen to me." - "Bona work. . ." The Young Lothar spoke as the missive was delivered to him, grinning as he noticed a word he had made up being used.