Javert

Styregg Eiriksson sighs upon hearing of his cousin's death. "We shall meet again one day, Adalsteinn."

KIN & COUNTRY The Dungeons of New Roza, 127 S.A. “Hello Aleksy.” A familiar voice said from the door of Aleksy’s cell as he looked out the window, the Prince turning to the source with a heavy and defeated sigh. “Father.” Aleksy sat upon the bench within his cell, the chains upon his wrists softly clanking together and his eyes not leaving King Armitage as he stepped into the cell with two of his guards. “Have you heard the news?” The King’s expression was blank, his eyes seemingly staring into Aleksy’s soul. Aleksy braced himself for whatever news his Father had brought for him, then shook his head. The King then turned to his guards. “Leave us.” Moments later, the King and his second born were left alone in the cell. Aleksy looked down to the floor, his long-grown hair falling from his shoulders and dangling over his face. “Your old friend, Ser Chadvik, has proven his loyalty to the Crown. He located your traitorous boys in Fleurgrass and swiftly routed their pitiful band of rebels.” King Armitage chuckled softly as he crouched down in front of Aleksy as if he were speaking to a child. “Liabilities and loose ends, just like their failure of a Father. I should have known better than to let them out of my sight the moment I had you in chains. Hell, they remind me of you in many ways. Spares to my heirs - Tools, pawns even. I hardly consider you my Son, more so means to an end.” Aleksy took a moment to ponder his Father’s words, then lifted his head up to meet the King’s eyes. Aleksy’s fists clenched, and for a moment he considered attempting to strangle his Father. He was defenseless, his guards had left the room, and Aleksy was certain he could snap Armitage’s neck before the guards could react. Even so, Aleksy bided his time. “My Sons. Tell me about my Sons.” The King’s grin persisted as he rose to his feet “I’m so glad you asked. Unfortunately your youngest, Jakub, escaped my grasp to continue his pitiful fight. It appears he adopted his Father’s tactic of running away from a fight rather than dying honorably. As for Antoni, I brought him here.” Aleksy jumped to his feet and looked over at the door, a hopeful thought entering his mind as he prayed his son would walk through so they could embrace. “Here?! Now?! Where?!” The King laughed and walked to the door as one of his guards stepped inside and tossed Aleksy a bag. “A gift, my Son.” Before Aleksy could open the bag, the door to the cell was shut and the King began to walk down the hall with his entourage. Aleksy looked down at the bag and his heart sank. He dreaded to see what was within it, but he had to know for himself. He placed the bag upon the bench and unraveled it. “You goddamn BASTARD!” Aleksy roared out as he rushed to the cell door, his arms extending past the bars in a desperate attempt to do harm to King Armitage. By now the King had made his way half-way down the hall, and the Monarch’s maniacal laughter could be heard echoing through the entire dungeon. “YOU ARE NO FATHER OF MINE! KINSLAYER! I’LL KILL YOU ARMITAGE, DO YOU HEAR ME?! I’LL KILL YOU!” “ARMITAGE!” “ARMITAGE!!”

"God bless the King!" Says Louis Owyn Haverlock as he makes preparations to swear fealty to his Kinsman

SONS & SERS Ser Chadvik leading the Royal Army c. 127 S.A. The time had come For months the armies of King Armitage had been assembling under the call to put down the rebellious Sons of Aleksy. Now Ser Chadvik was at the head of a massive army of 10,000 Rozanian Loyalists on the march to the southern village of Fleurgrass. While the veteran Knight had no doubt of a loyalist victory, he still questioned the morality of his direct orders. “The Heads of his Grandsons…” Ser Chadvik said to himself as he led the column of cavalry down a stone paved road. “Pardon, Ser?” a member of his entourage spoke up upon hearing the Knight’s mutterings. “Nothing, nothing. Keep your eye on the path ahead.” The loyalist army marched for miles until arriving at the outskirts of Fleurgrass, the rather unremarkable village making it obvious that an army had encamped within its boundaries. Ser Chadvik ordered the construction of a camp two miles from Fleurgrass and sent an envoy to the two rebel Princes in hopes of ending the war before it even began. Hours later, a reply came. Ser Chadvik and his bodyguard would meet the Princes and their entourage on the no-man's land between the two camps. Ser Chadvik had arrived early, clad from head to toe in armor and with a heightened sense of alertness. Not much longer than he arrived did he see the two princes in their own shiny new armor with red markings approach with their own bodyguards. “Ser Chadvik.” Prince Antoni, the Eldest, said in greetings. “I presume you wish to offer your surrender?” The Prince grinned arrogantly while his younger brother, Prince Jakub, donned a more angry expression. “King Armitage has held our Father for too long. No man of Royal blood deserves imprisonment for so long.” The younger Prince proclaimed as his eyes burrowed into Ser Chadvik, the Knight’s eyes responding in kind. After a moment, Ser Chadvik responded. “It is your own surrender I seek, Prince Antoni. Your cause is admirable - Sons wishing to release their father from the shackles of a dungeon - but your methods are misplaced. Your Grandfather will not allow you to storm in and free Prince Aleksy, and to believe you have the force to do so is foolish. I urge both of you to reconsider your actions and lay down your arms so that no Rozanian blood is spilled over a family feud.” Prince Jakub spat upon Ser Chadvik, his voice ringing out “So King Armitage may imprison us as well?! You are a fool to think our Grandfather would have mercy upon us now - The fact of the matter is we have gone too far to turn back now.” "My Brother, temperamental as he is, is correct Ser Chadvik. Should we put down our arms, King Armitage would throw us into a cell next to our Father. We have attempted reason, we have attempted bargaining, this is our last resort. Stand with us or stand aside, but I urge you not to face us simply because a paranoid King told you to do so.” Ser Chadvik sighed and looked back towards his companions. For a brief moment - a mere fleeting second - he considered their offer. He considered turning his army around and ousting the King to save Cahir from civil war. Yet, his loyalty to the Crown and his hope to end the conflict quickly won out. “You leave me no choice. Prince Antoni, Prince Jakub, you are both labeled as Traitors to His Majesty’s Crown. I am sorry.” Without another word, Ser Chadvik and his entourage turned and rode back to their camp as war horns began to blow. A battle would commence and a war would begin. Prince Antoni at the Battle of Fleurgrass, 127 S.A. Madness, brutality, and bloodshed. That is how the Battle of Fleurgrass was to the perspective of Prince Antoni who had never truly experienced battle before. A Prince of 27 years, Antoni was too young during the Sedanian-Rozanian war to have truly experienced his Father’s campaign first hand. Even so, the inexperienced Prince did not lose his nerve the moment he saw the loyalist army aligned against him. He ordered his infantry forward and his Cavalry bodyguard to remain at his side to plug any potential gaps or perform a potential flanking maneuver. As the two infantry armies clashed, the Prince was momentarily taken aback by the ferocity of the fighting. Heads were caved in by maces, arms were cleaved off, and mangled corpses soon began to litter the front lines. Even so, the Prince regained his cool and turned to his younger brother. “Jakub, take half the horses and perform a scouting maneuver behind the enemy infantry on the left. If you spot enemy cavalry attempting to engage on the flank, intercept. I will do the same on the right.” Prince Jakub nodded and relayed the order to a bannerman, who blew upon a horn to signal to the cavalry. The junior Prince then rode off to take command of his cavalry contingent whilst Prince Antoni led his own to circle around the right flank into a forested area. At first Antoni saw nothing and believed himself to be unopposed, then suddenly the thunder of hooves was heard from his right. Ser Chadvik’s own mounted bodyguard had outflanked the unsuspecting Prince Antoni and rammed their side with lances. Chaos erupted as the two cavalry contingents battled it out while Prince Antoni quickly attempted to make sense of the situation. A moment later the Prince was unexpectedly knocked from his horse after an enemy knight had struck him with his axe - the armor taking most of the cut but leaving the Prince winded as he fell upon the forest floor. Once the Prince had struggled back to his feet he withdrew a Mace and recognized a familiar suit of armor charging towards him - shield and sword primed. The Duel of Ser Chadvik and Prince Antoni, c. 127 S.A. The Knight was upon him without warning, bashing the Prince’s helmet with his shield before landing a flurry of blows with his sword upon Antoni’s chest. The Prince stumbled backwards before regaining his footing and responding by swinging his mace towards Ser Chadvik’s helmet, which was quickly blocked by the Knight’s shield - causing some of the shield to be chipped away by the heavy blow. Although inexperienced, the Prince was determined to give the older and experienced Knight a tough fight. Prince Antoni’s mace landed blow upon blow on Ser Chadvik’s shield, slowly chipping bigger and bigger chunks away from it. When the shield no longer became feasible, Ser Chadvik dropped the ruined shield and arming sword and withdrew a greatsword from his back. Not a word was said between the two combatants as steel clashed upon steel, each looking for an opening in the other’s armor. Before long the two warriors had tired themselves out, their swings becoming more and more sluggish. Antoni, in his youth, gained the upper hand and struck the Knight’s helmet from upon his head, leaving Ser Chadvik’s head exposed. Just as Prince Antoni was preparing to make a killing blow, the Royal felt two sharp pains entering his back. A gasp escaped Antoni as he fell upon his knees, his helmet falling from his head. Ser Chadvik sighed sadly as he made his way over to the fallen Prince, his sword rising above his head. “I did not want this, my Prince. I want you to know I am truly sorry.” Prince Antoni did not respond, only looking down upon the bloodied soil as he awaited the inevitable. And then it ended.

Louis Owyn Haverlock lit a candle for his fallen Kinsman and late-liege, shedding a tear as he made preparations to swear loyalty to the new Monarch.

Neutral about it, I don't have it that often Black olive pizza 1. It's a bit mixed in that regard. In some communities I definitely feel like I could have done more, but with others I am definitely proud of my input on them. In terms of their levels of success after the fact, I've definitely had a handful of successful hand-offs that I am proud of such as Hyspia, House Bishop (Based solely on the fact that they aren't dead), etc. 2. I'd say LOTC has benefitted me in a more positive manner because it has genuinely served as a template for my creativity. The reason I've been apart of so many projects is because since joining I've been overflowing with creative ideas - some successful and some not, as previously stated. Hyspia, House Bishop, The Skanarri, and a whole bunch of my projects were all because I had an idea for a project and I wanted to have a go and see if it would work out well on LOTC. Definitely better than just letting it fester and die in my mind

It's funny and for some reason they decided to give staff the pex to sit on people's heads. I was doing it to the King of Norland the other day - all in good fun Edit: As a note, sometimes CT likes to make these towers of us sitting on each other's heads. It's hilarious

Good questions. For my favorite character I'd have to admit I'm torn between Henry Bishop and Viceroy Cesar de Pelear. As for my favorite community, I find it very difficult to pick but I enjoy the Norlandic and Aaunic communities a lot - However I do enjoy almost every community on the server Good to be a reinmaren. Anyway, blue. Ngl there's been a few I can think of, most of them involving wars. Tbh it was probably during either Oisin's Rebellion when we won that first battle or when Joseph and Louis were talking about Louis' marital prospects

Not gonna get sentimental, just noticed it's been two years since I joined so I figured I'd do another AMA. Hit me with what you've got cuz I'm bored

"MI HIJA?! MARRYING EL REY?! PINCH ME BECAUSE I MUST BE ******* DREAMING! EL REY IS MARRYING A HYSPIAN! HYSPIAN QUEEN! VIVA HYSPIA!" Said the overly enthusiastic Viceroy Cesar from the Seven Skies! Alberto Murietta let out the loudest Grito known to man upon hearing the news and then proceeded to faint due to his overwhelming Hyspian pride

Dominic Kvitravn, one of the first men to storm Cartref Mor during the Rebellion decades ago, hears of the death of his former foe. Despite everything, the old warrior did not feel happy that the warrior was now dead. Instead he felt...indifferent. The Chieftain of the Kvitravns heaved a sigh as he looked out at the nearby lake "Our generation is slowly running it's course. One day nobody will be left that experienced what we did first hand." Dominic reached his hand up, touching the helmet that always adorned his head. "Adunians, Norlanders, we'll be remembered for one thing. Fighting. Yet nobody is going to remember what it is that we fought for. Not truly."

Louis Owyn Haverlock sends Father Blackwater a complimentary bottle of wine as thanks for the correction

[!] Louis Owyn Haverlock writes a polite letter to Father Blackwater, Bishop of Buron. Dear Father Blackwater, The event of which you speak labels the wrong prince as being executed - My Father, Prince Frederick I of Sedan, was killed in Joannesport by a crossbow bolt rather than executed by Philip III. The Sedanian Prince that was executed in this event was actually my Grandfather, Prince Leopold I. I mean no malice in this letter, yet I felt a need to correct this otherwise harmless error. Signed, Louis Owyn Haverlock, secondborn son of Prince Frederick I.

A DISRUPTED RETIREMENT Ser Chadvik ‘The Bold’ in his forge, c. 125. It was a normal day for the grizzled war veteran of Cahir. He had a few new armor commissions to work on, so there was little time to relax as Ser Chadvik arose from his creaky bed and donned his blacksmithing gear. As he walked into the forge the veteran knight noticed that his apprentice was nowhere to be found, and he heaved a heavy sigh. “Late again, Francizek.” Ser Chadvik grumbled to himself as he ignited his forge and took to hammering. While long ago Ser Chadvik was unsure if he would enjoy his smithing hobby, it quickly became more than just that - it became his new lifestyle. Of course he had tried other jobs such as training new recruits, overseeing construction, and other administrative jobs befitting a knight - but they all frustrated him quickly. The only thing that he truly enjoyed in this era of peace and stability was that of his clanging hammer upon newly smelted metal. Behind the knight came a pair of footsteps. Assuming that his Apprentice had finally arrived - and his Father who often had to drag him there - Ser Chadvik did not bother to look up from his work. “Francizek, put on your apron. We have work to do-” “Ser Chadvik” came an unfamiliar voice, prompting the Knight to turn around. Before him stood two armored men - armor of the Royal Guard. Ser Chadvik quickly extinguished his forge, placed down his hammer, and placed his full attention upon the two men. “Gentlemen. To what do I owe the pleasure of two Guardsmen in my forge?” Ser Chadvik examined the two men, both seeming to be in their early thirties. He assumed that they were perhaps the more experienced men of His Majesty’s guard. “His Majesty the King has requested your presence at the Royal Court. Don your armor.” Without another word the two guardsmen turned and exited, leaving Ser Chadvik confused. Nonetheless a Royal request was a Royal request and Ser Chadvik made haste in going forth to retrieve his armor. The royal court of New Roza, Cahir. Ser Chadvik stood at the sides of the throne room in his scratched and battle-tested armor, his gaze upon the crowd. As he awaited the King’s entry the Knight was approached from his left by none other than his Apprentice who had been missing all morning. “Ser Chadvik!” the boy said excitedly. Francizek was a young child, only 10 when he had become Ser Chadvik’s apprentice and now a boy of 12. Ser Chadvik glanced down at the boy with an unamused expression. “Where was such enthusiasm when coming to the forge this morning?” Ser Chadvik replied, the boy pausing for a moment before responding. “Father said the Royal Court was today, so he told me to come.” Ser Chadvik sighed and motioned for Francizek to stand at his side, Francizek enthusiastically doing so. Suddenly the blair of trumpets sounded off through the hall. King Armitage, his wife Queen Dani, and Crown-Prince Andrzej filed in and took their respective thrones as the King’s voice then boomed through the room. “Today’s subject, I fear, is rather grim. Our Crown has been informed that Prince Antoni and Prince Jakub, Sons of the long-imprisoned Prince Aleksy, has risen their banners in rebellion in the village of Fleurgrass.” Mutterings and chatter instantly spread through the hall though faded quickly as the King raised his hand once more. “The Crown believes it is the intention of these misguided boys to release their Father from the dungeons by storming Our Capital. I have already called for the assembly of The Crown’s loyal forces here in New Roza” King Armitage paused once more to scan the crowd and caught the eyes of Ser Chadvik, a half-smile forming on his face. “Ser Chadvik, approach.” The Knight’s heart sank. There was no question in his mind of what was going to be asked of him - yet he had hoped his previous speculations would prove to be false. Ser Chadvik approached the throne and knelt before the Royal family - his eyes not daring to meet the Monarch’s. “Your Majesty, I am at your service.” Ser Chadvik uttered as he kept his head bowed. The room was silent. The Knight could almost feel the crowd’s piercing eyes upon him. “I do not wish to disrupt your retirement, Ser Chadvik. Nonetheless the circumstances of the realm call upon your service once more. As the only tested and seemingly competent commander within the realm, I am ordering you to take command of The Crown’s forces and bring me the heads of my traitor grandsons.” Ser Chadvik took a deep breath. He was undoubtedly loyal to his Kingdom and its Monarch, but asking him to murder two Princes? Especially the sons of the man who had made him a knight in the first place? The Monarch cleared his throat and Ser Chadvik quickly realized he had taken too long to respond, to which he quickly rectified. “I serve The Crown, your Majesty. The rebellion will not survive the year.”

THE CHAINED PRINCE The imprisonment of Prince Aleksy ‘the Fool’ In disgrace, Prince Aleksy had returned to Cahir following his defeat at the hands of Sedanian and Haeseni forces. It was he who insisted upon the war to reclaim old Rozanian lands, and it was he who had failed to see it through. Because of his warmongering and lust for approval, thousands of Rozanians were dead. Now back in Cahir, the Prince was forced to pay for his actions as he was thrown in a cell by his own Father. At first, Prince Aleksy had hoped to resist his own arrest. With the knowledge that he would be arrested for his failure, the Prince attempted to utilize the forces at his command to resist his Father. Even so, King Armitage of Rozania had been prepared. 10,000 men commanded by Crown-Prince Andrzej came to meet Prince Aleksy’s surviving 5,000 men. As the two armies aligned to meet one another in battle, the Prince came to his senses and accepted his fate before blood could be shed. The Prince approached his Brother and surrendered his sword, then to be clamped in Irons and taken back to the Cahirian Capital. Prince Aleksy surrendering to Crown-Prince Andrzej Circa 114 S.A. Now in the darkness of his cell, Prince Aleksy awaited his sentence from his Father. The Prince wondered of his Wife and Children - were they safe? Had his Father treated them with mercy? Aleksy assumed that his Father would not be so cruel as to imprison his family for his own crimes, yet he was not so certain. Suddenly, a loud clang upon his cell door broke the silence. “Brother.” “Andrzej?” “I assume you understand that your punishment will not be a light one.” said the Crown-Prince, offering Aleksy a Cigar through the bars of the cell. “I expected such.” Aleksy approached the cell door and accepted the Cigar, taking a long drag from it. “Your family is safe. Father showed mercy towards them.” “Thank God. Ser Chadvik?” “Pardoned. He attempted to put in a good word for you, but Father is still determined to punish you.” “Understandably so.” “I pray this is not the last time we speak, Aleksy.” “I concur, Brother.” With that, Crown-Prince Andrzej left Aleksy’s damp and cold cell behind. The Prince’s fate to be decided in the coming days of his imprisonment.

So I got infected with what we call curiosity. From my own personal experience with IRP insurgent/Guerrilla groups (The Mercatorii Revolutionary Army, That one group a guy called Gustav led, etc) it can be a pretty fun experience for both the Guerrilla fighter and the law enforcement if it's kept purely IRP and done with fun intentions. Nonetheless, I want to know what the general population thinks of Insurgency RP and if you guys think it's a fun/beneficial style of RP or not. Yes, this is despite the fact that there's no real OOC mechanics for insurgency RP.