Gandhi

CHRONICLES OF THE REINMAREN: FREDERICKSBURG The following is the perspective of Alfred, Duke of Reinmar, during the Siege of Fredericksburg. [DO NOT METAGAME] The 9th day of Grona and Droba of 512 E.S. There came the 9th of Tobias’ Bounty, 1959 - Alfred was awoken early in the morning by his wife, who had practically forced him to begin preparations. He led himself to his desk, not one to leave anything undone. Fredericksburg was a risk, probably one that Alfred would be most prone to injury in, credit to his place amongst the cavalry. Once his letters had been aptly written, he donned his armor, seeking out his young son and daughter. For a moment, the future Duchess of Reinmar - the future of his House - rested in his arms, embracing her father in a hug. Alfred let a heavy sigh escape his lips as he guided her back to her cradle. Once he’d found himself in the streets, men in blue and green lining the walkways that used to form the foundation of Minitz’s Moothall. At their head was Wilhelm, both Hauptmann and Warchief, his leadership unhindered over both Reinmaren Militaries. Wilhelm lifted a glove to his hat, drawing it up and off of his head. He turned to Alfred, who’d suddenly approached him, and took to his side. The duo conversed for minutes, only hushed whispers were exchanged back and forth. Once the Grand Prince Leon had subsequently arrived with the remainder of his Council - the two Reinmaren Princes approached one another and embraced heartily, Aaunic & Haeseni in union. They loosened the ranks for a time before they departed, gathering in the tavern of Minitz to drink. Alfred and Leon drank Illatian wine, engaging about how they’d topple the walls of Fredericksburg. Thereafter, Alfred’s memory skipped a beat - taking him to the moment of separation, where Leon diverted the Warband and Order of St. Tylos to unify with King John’s Army in Whitespire. Alfred, Wilhelm, and Michal headed the Landsers von Reinmar, who headed west, crossing the River Petra to unite with the army of Aleksandr II. It was a treacherous trip - however their numbers did not dwindle, nor did they falter. As Alfred’s host arrived at the gates of Marignan, bordering the siege camp that practically engulfed Stassion in hostile territory - credited to Lemon Hill and the fortifications constructed. They were welcomed by men of the Brotherhood of St. Karl, and at their helm - Leonid Kortrevich. The men of Reinmar were only provided momentary respite before arming themselves to man the walls against the scourge of Stassionite cavalry. At the behest of Aleksandr II, those pre-emptively assigned to the regiments of cavalry that were intended to strike a returning blow, mounted up. Amongst those ranks were Alfred, his kinsman, Brandt, Olaf von Reinmar, and another relative, Konstantin von Theonus. The detachment rode north, keeping within sight of the keep. Their purpose was only to fend off their opponents until Fredericksburg was aptly shelled. Eventually - after the walls had been riddled with artillery fire - the time came, and Alfred threw himself from his steed with dutiful haste, after having withdrawn to their camp. Olaf rushed to his side, delivering to him the Cross of St. Tylos, a pinnacle of Reinmaren culture and faith. He left his acquired steed, Auspice, at the gates of their siege camp. Now, they’d assault the throne-room of Fredericksburg, in an attempt to wrangle it from the hands of the Veletzians. Once the call came, they flooded from the walls of their camp, quickly traversing the burned out, ruined lands that separated Marignan, from Fredericksburg. Alfred hauled himself up the ladders, thrown into the empty moat, the final obstacle to victory. He was tired, no doubt, but the promise he’d once made to his people rang louder in his ears than any exhaustion could. There was no swinging of blades as he charged into the empty hall that once served as the helm of Richard’s Principality. Any semblance of a throne was long gone, with the majority of the enemy having mounted up and departed to circle the Keep in turn. The Duke found himself amongst his own ranks, spotting the Grand Prince Leon across the hall, a rather impressive, albeit internal, description of his counterpart crossing his mind. One who was unfaltering, if young perhaps, but most certainly not a coward. Some may acclaim him as rather unserious at times, but Alfred understood the wisdom that laid beneath his eyes, one able to truly guide the Reinmaren peoples seize their future. However, the siege had not yet ended. Despite the seizure of Fredericksburg, the Armies of Sir Gaspard still remained, armed to the teeth and brave beyond sense. They quickly returned to the walls, attempting to seize the courtyard that laid on the eastern side of the keep. They managed to mount the walls, seize the rooftops of Fredericksburg. Despite this, Covenant morale had only soared, and the men of the Coalition - donning tens of different colors - remained united under a singular proud banner. Their next order came, the final directive of the siege - to extinguish the last of the Veletzian presence in Fredericksburg through brute strength. Alfred had recuperated, and whilst wielding his Reinmaren Berserker Axe - hauled himself up a ladder, leading himself amongst the ranks of Veletzians. His heavy-headed Axe swung with ferocity - and it seemed, all around him, that the Coalition had practically wiped out any Veletzian resistance inside the walls. That was, until Alfred was in the side, with a mace - sending him tumbling from the Frederickburg's rooftops. His body remained stunned, sent falling from the walls of Fredericksburg. He’d assumed, inherently, that death came with his fall. But when his body hit the grass below, many other men fell around him - still stood. One of them - a Veletzian aristocrat - was masked beneath a bloodied surcoat and helm. Alfred, now on the cusp of falling limp, thrusted the dagger that previously lingered at his hip into the throat of his opponent. The man was left limp on the field, the stain of his own blood hardening on the Stassionite ground. The Duke of Reinmar made strength to drag himself back to the throne room of Fredericksburg before climbing the walls in a wounded stupor. He watched over the lands formerly belonging to Prince Richard, now having fallen under the dominion of the Covenant. “GOTT MIT UNS.”

Alfred lifted his blade, readied to avenge Edmund's murder.

Alfred Barclay pulled tightly at the reins of his steed throughout the fight - swapping horses as a common occurence, felling at the very least a few Veletzians before meeting the face of a pike & suffering a harsh wound.. Nevertheless - they stood victorious.

"Yeah, yeah, Kortrevich falsehood - she must've picked two random children up off of the street!" The Duke of Reinmar, Alfred groaned, mulling over the letter.

ANNOUNCEMENT OF TWIN BIRTH Issued by the DUKE AND DUCHESS OF REINMAR On this 12th day of Jula and Piov of 511 E.S. On this day we place our children in the Lord’s care, It is with great pride that we, the Duke and Duchess of Reinmar, announce the birth of not one, but two healthy children. Born both on the 10th of Msitza and Dargund, 510 E.S. / 10th of Harren’s Folly, 1957. Following a tumultuous, albeit short, period with the failure of the Duchess’ first pregnancy - such is considered to be a blessing. Both children, one male, one female, bear the distinctive, dynastic blonde hair, whilst bearing the blue eyes of their father. The Elder of the two - the girl - was named Frederica Josefina Barclay, after the late Duke Friedrich 'The Iron Fox' Barclay and after the Duke’s own dutiful grandmother, Josefina of Jerovitz, wife to Wilheim II. She is hereby bestowed with the Barony of Sigradz, to hold in perpetuity until her rightful inheritance as heiress to the Duchy of Reinmar and all subsidiary titles. The Younger of the two - the boy - was aptly named Erwin Ulrich Barclay, after the first Duke of Reinmar, Erwin ‘The Northern Fox’ Barclay, one of the most prestigious Patriarchs of the House Barclay, and after Ulrich Lothar von Alstreim, 9th Lord Vandalore. With the Duke and Duchess’ prayers to GOTT answered, all that remains is for both to be baptized, which will happen in a private ceremony at the hands of Matthias Cardinal Lotharia come the following year. GOTT MIT UNS. HIS PRINCELY GRACE, Alfred Konstanz Barclay, ESTSR, ROKSG, Prince of Sutica, Duke of Reinmar, Count of Freimark and Kretzen, Baron of Madvon and Freising, Lord of Sankt Johannsburg, Wilheburg, Erwinsburg, Freiburg and Rozenfeld, High Chief of the Reinmaren HER PRINCELY GRACE, Theodosia Helen Barclay, Princess-Consort of Sutica, Duchess-Consort of Reinmar, Countess-Consort of Freimark and Kretzen, Baroness-Consort of Madvon and Freising, Lady of Sankt Johannsburg, Wilheburg, Erwinsburg, Freiburg and Rozenfeld

love u fella - will miss u mister mateo

APPLICATION FOR INTERVIEW FULL NAME: Ludolf Ernst Barclay AGE: 69 (1888) PRIOR EXPERIENCE: Just a lil templar stuff METHOD OF CONTACT: Gandhi_2k

Alfred walked the streets of Kanunsberg, staying as an ever-present guest in the Grand Principality in the months up to the Enthronement.

Alfred wandered the Keep of Kanunsberg, following the battle outside Velen. There was no doubt he was late - maybe, despite his lack of affection for combat, if he'd showed earlier, Ferdinand would have lived. Nevertheless, he wasn't intending to dwell on it - just a simple oddity, only a week following his inheritance. He was promoted with the title of High Chief.

Yup this is me +1

Alfred Barclay recalled his dinner with the House Baruch - how he'd had to engage in fisticuffs with Ser Garen, and only succeeded through the Knight having sprained his ankle. He smiled.

Alfred returned home to Reinmar - after meeting with the Duchess Valwyck & her family. A Landser von Reinmar delivered to him the writ of abdication. He let out a simple, seemingly refreshed sigh - before turning off to find his new Ducal Quarters.. "You did well, father - it'll be hard to follow in your footsteps. Wer Rastet - Der Rostet."

Alfred stood atop within the walls of the Siege Camp - his blade & heater shield drawn. He watched, as rocks hurled overhead & crashed recklessly into Breakwater Keep. "CHARGE!" The order came - and the Baron fell to the barren wasteland preceding their objective. He was among those who threw themselves at the oncoming Veletzians that had clung up along the well outside. His blade had never swung with such ferocity, only narrowly avoiding certain death a few times.. After the rest of those Veletzians had otherwise sortied from their walls, engaging the Covenant's rear - the entirety of the enemy army had been decisively shattered, and the ruined keep fell to the Allies. "This is our peace." He muttered victoriously, tiredly returning to Reinmar on the following day..

"Accurate - cousin, accurate." Alfred Barclay muttered, reading over the piece. He was incredibly exhausted, from the Siege of Breakwater Keep & so only reluctantly took the time to read the piece.

“Tandem Triumphans.” Echoed a kinsman of King John - Alfred Barclay.

Ludolf remained camped out in the Langkette - Yvian's letter only delivered by an accomplished courier, who'd been willing to brave the trek up into the Frankish hills. He sighed, wrapping the letter tightly in his gauntlet - almost to the point of crumpling it.. "The end of an era - Yvian, one less veteran of the Adrian rebellion. I'll always remember you brother."

Alfred sat atop the walls of Sankt Johannsburg - peering out over the Haeseni countryside with a Barcston in his mouth. ".. We may only pray - that GOD's will shall be swift."

Alfred Barclay read his cousin's work over his morning tea.. He smiled - offering a simple nod.

Ludolf prayed in silence for Canondom - and what might become of this war. The times of Adria's rebellion were only too recent.

Alfred Barclay, Baron of Sigradz unsheathed his blade - drawing it to the sky, ".. Rest in Peace - cousin Edmund, this is for you." He swung his blade back to his side, a smile donning his lips.

Alfred Barclay pulled himself through the streets of Whitespire - corpses littering the streets & alleyways.. He hunched down, scooping up a Cross of the Lorraine, which had fallen in the midst of the skirmish.

"GOD help cousin John." Alfred spoke in tandem with his grandfather, bowing his head & conducting a prayer for the kingdom of Aaun.

"My son is so great, I love my son." The Master Templar, Ludolf, repeats to himself as he reads his invite.

Alfred Barclay, the Regent of Reinmar makes his plans to attend.