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Erwin Barclay departed the walls of Leonstadt without banners nor the sounds of horn. Nor were there summons or a call for court. He left Leonstadt as if it were a house he long tended; he took nothing that would be missed. At dawn, he passed the final roadstone, alone. He’d carefully lay the belongings he took with him by the rich treeline; he had no use for them anymore. He’d set aside his blade and instead elected to carry a stick worn by his many travels to assist him as he continued into the wilderness. The forest did not bar his path. The earth yielded beneath his boots as it had for many others before him. He did not carry the typical gait seen in a Chieftain, he allowed himself rest when his breath shortened. He did not feel the urgency he typically felt, instead he walked without haste. Once evening arrived, he’d find a quiet rise overlooking the land. There he sat upon a stone; he enjoyed the freedom of the earth. This peaceful rise is where he would rest, he decided. He’d lay his back onto the earth and stone, his staff placed aside. When the new day had broken, he did not wake. He knew peace beneath the eagle’s wing. Erwin Barclay 1981-2065

ISSUED BY THE PRINCE IN REINMAR In the year of our Lord, 2034 Lo my kinsmen, and let this message reach the “Black Scribe” My tribe will dare speak peak of my righteousness. My tribe will dare speak of purity. You faced the might of my Lord God, my swords, and my lineage. No Reinmaren entered the spirit realm the day you came, and I attribute my success entirely to our true faith and your wretched excuse for a “communion”. You spoke of my cowardice, yet it was I and my warriors who sent you fleeing like a coward. You heard my bark, and yet it was you who had the meagre bite. I sent my brave. I sent my most proud. I faced you as a Reinmaren does, in act. I raised my blade and came. I did not cower, I did not beg, I destroyed you. My fields are still sown with wheat. My graves were as they were before you came. My children sleep soundly, knowing I sent you scurrying away. The blood of Rodimar still flows within the veins of my people. Now listen closely to my next words, “Black Scribe” and my kinsmen, You were defeated, and I was victorious. Providence shall continue to deliver me victories should you return. There is no true defeat for a Reinmaren, only glory.

MC Name: Timer2k Discord: timer1 Image: Description of Image: another reinmaren propaganda poster about cloaks Dimensions: 1 wide, 2 high

✠ THE ELEVENTH WALDENIC DIET Second Session, 9 of Snow’s Maiden 2032 SIEBTE WALDENTAG Zweite Sitzung, der 9. Schnees Jungfer 2032 MERRYWEATHER-ALSTREIM REINMAR CAIUS VOHENHEIM HOHENGARTEN MOTIONS ANTRÄGE THE KNIGHTINGS OF PHILLIPA VON REUSS AND FRANZ VON AUGUSTEN Vote: To Knight Phillipa von Reuss and Franz von Augusten into the Vandorian Order. THE CALL FOR SQUIRES INTO THE VANDORIAN ORDER Vote: N/A THE DELIBERATION OF THE WALDENIC STATUS OF HOUSE ROVARE Vote: Postponed for the next session. PETITION FOR THE ELECTORSHIP OF VON PREUSSENS [POSTPONED FOR THE NEXT SESSION] Vote: Postponed for the next session. PETITION FOR THE CREATION OF THE WALDENIAN SOCIETY Vote: To create the Waldenian Society under Lord Ottomar von Alstreim. [Ja] PETITION TO CONSTRUCT AN INDEPENDENT WALDENIAN DIET HALL [POSTPONED FOR THE NEXT SESSION] Vote: Postponed for the next session. PETITION TO RAISE HOUSE VORKEHARDT TO ELECTORSHIP Vote: To raise house Vorkehardt to the status of Elector of the Waldenian Diet. [Nay] PETITION TO RAISE HOUSE VON LEOPOLD TO ELECTORSHIP Vote: To raise house von Leopold under Frau Cosima von Leopold to the status of Elector of the Waldenian Diet. [Nay] THE SECOND SESSION OF THE ELEVENTH DIET On the 9th of the Snow’s Maiden 2032, the Second Session of the Eleventh Waldenic Diet convened on the matter of the reformation of the Diet to properly fit the changed political situation brought forth by the rise of the Imperium of Man and the general congregation of the Waldenian Houses under one realm. Also addressed were several matters of housekeeping, recognition of houses, and potential membership within the diet. Many matters were tabled for want of proper investigation and deliberation for the next session; however, 2 Knights of Vander and several squires were appointed. VOTE: THE KNIGHTINGS OF PHILLIPA VON REUSS AND FRANZ VON AUGUSTEN JA Merryweather-Alstreim Reinmar Caius Vohenheim Hohengarten ABSTAINED: N/A The vote passed, 5-0 unanimous as 2 seats remain vacant. As the voting concluded, two new Knights of the Vandorian Order (Phillipa von Reuss and Franz von Augusten) were raised by His Princely Highness, Erwin I, the Lord Vandalore and Elector of Reinmar, to unanimous approval by the diet, pending their oaths for they were not in attendance. THE CALL FOR SQUIRES INTO THE VANDORIAN ORDER During the Second Session of the Eleventh Waldenic Diet, the Lord Vandalore put out a call for youths of Waldenian Blood to request Squireship, this call was responded to by Lord Ottomar of House Alstreim, Frederick of House Stroheim, Lord Adonis of House Rovare, Aviel of House Helfgot, and Katarina of House Augusten. Alongside this, further candidates stepped forth from House Augusten however House Augusten was limited to 1 candidate. The Lord Vandalore then put out the call for Vander Knights in need of Squires, those in response being Ser Konstantin von Augusten and Ser Manfred von Berkhoven. Following this, he assigned Lord Ottomar as squire to Ser Konstantin von Augusten and summoned Lord Adonis before him. Following the deliberation over House Rovare, Frau Katarina was granted Squireship under Ser Manfred, who expressed the availability to take on a second Squire, before the Lord Vandalore opened the floor to petitions from the Electors. THE DELIBERATION OVER THE WALDENIAN STATUS OF HOUSE ROVARE During the Second Session of the Eleventh Waldenic Diet the matter of House Rovare’s status as Waldenian was brought before the Electors, by the matter of Lord Adonis Rovare (the heir to House Rovare) petitioning for Squireship under a Knight of Vander. Following this he was summoned to the dias by the Lord Vandalore to introduce himself and the lineage of House Rovare before the diet. Upon being questioned, Lord Adonis and Ser Peter (his father) claimed Waldenian Status by 2 paths, the first being the right of blood, sharing the common ancestor of Houses von Augusten and von Leopold being Phillip Leopold Hill though notably of a bastard line, however this was also presented with the Rovares and the County of Stirland living by the Waldenic values and virtues, developing what could be (pending investigation and consideration) considered a distinct Waldenian subculture. This proclamation was met with much deliberation amongst the Electors and commentary from non-Electors of similar lineage, due to the previously unknown origins. Questions were raised by the Lord Vandalore in regards to why House Rovare had not approached the diet sooner, and the matter was put to a close following a speech from Ser Manfred von Berkhoven and a pending investigation by Lord Ottomar and was postponed to the next diet. PETITION TO RAISE HOUSE VON PREUSSEN TO ELECTORSHIP During the Second Session of the Eleventh Waldenic Diet the matter of raising House von Preussens to full membership and electorship of the diet was put forth by the diet, however due to their absence from the session, the matter was postponed until the next diet, thereby opening the floor to the next matter. PETITION TO FORM THE WALDENIAN SOCIETY During the Second Session of the Eleventh Waldenic Diet, Lord Ottomar of House Alstreim put the matter before the Diet to create a Waldenian Society, responsible for cataloging, investigating, educating, and overall managing the Waldenian status of minor or disputed Waldenian families for a unified Waldenian people and the facilitation of the creation of future Electorships. Alongside this, the previous matter of the Rovaran heritage investigation was brought forth as a potential task for this new society, as well as future similar matters of deliberation and investigation, and the upkeep of the Book of Waldenia. The motive received approval and assent from Houses Stroheim, Barclay, Augusten, Theonus, Helfgot, and the Bishop-Elector, however, House Kannunsberg raised questions as to the difficulty and broad nature of the society's goals; however, Ser Manfred and the Lord Vandalore assuaged these fears and offered potential future goals and suggestions for the Society. VOTE: TO FORM THE WALDENIAN SOCIETY UNDER LORD OTTOMAR VON ALSTREIM Though there was no official vote on the matter, the ruling is considered a unanimous Ja. As the matter concluded, the Lord Vandalore expressed disapproval with the von Preussens lack of completion of the minutes for the previous diet session and issued a call for another attendee to take up the task. The task was initially picked up by Lord Ottomar before being moved over to Lord Peter Rovare. Following this, Ser Manfred von Berkhoven and Frau Cosima von Leopod voiced a desire to make petition before the diet. PETITION TO CONSTRUCT AN INDEPENDENT WALDENIAN DIET HALL During the Second Session of the Eleventh Waldenic Diet, Ser Manfred von Berkhoven proposed that the Diet petition the Imperial Crown for land to construct a permanent neutral Diet Hall for the Waldenian People, on the grounds of Imperial Unity, bias in favor of the Lord Vandalore, and a headquarters for groups like the Waldenian Society. However, due to the fierce debate and unsurity in regards to options of feasible and acceptable locations, the matter was postponed so research could be conducted. PETITION TO RAISE HOUSE VORKEHARDT TO ELECTORSHIP During the Second Session of the Eleventh Waldenic Diet, Sir Thomas von Theonus briefly proposed that House Vorkehardt be raised to the diet, possibly in a joint seat with House Theonus, however the proposal was immediately shut down by the Lord Vandalore and other electors on grounds of House Vorkehardt not following the path of the Waldenians. PETITION TO RAISE FRAU COSIMA VON LEOPOLD TO ELECTORSHIP During the Second Session of the Eleventh Waldenic Diet, Frau Cosima von Leopold approached the diet with the petition and intention of joining the Diet and being raised to Electorship. After the request was made, certain inquiries were made into the status, station, and residence of Frau Cosima, determining her Landless and holding no position of prominence within any Waldenian government. Following such, Frau Cosima protested the decision based on past Electorships, however the Lord Vandalore reaffirmed his status and authority upon the matter. VOTE: TO GRANT ELECTORSHIP TO COSIMA VON LEOPOLD Though there was no official vote on the matter, the ruling is considered a definitive no, until House Leopold meets the requirements of nobility, land, and populations. As the matter concluded, Bishop-Elector Josephina motioned for adjournment. VOTE: MOTION TO ADJOURN THE FIRST SESSION OF THE SEVENTH WALDENIC DIET JA Merryweather-Alstreim Reinmar Caius Vohenheim Hohengarten ABSTAINED: N/A The vote passed unanimously. Issued and proclaimed in the name of the Waldenian People, Ausgestellt und verkündet im Namen des Waldenischen Volkes, HIS PRINCELY HIGHNESS ERWIN, Prince in Reinmar, Margrave of Vanderfell, Grandmaster of the Vandorian Order and the Order of the Black Eagle LORD VANDALORE

MC Name: Timer2k Discord: timer1 Image: Description of Image: reinmaren propaganda about cloaks Dimensions: 1 wide, 2 high

mannimarco

MC Name: Timer2k Discord: timer1 Image: Description of Image: poster for reinmar warning against magic Dimensions: 1 wide, 2 high

ISSUED BY THE PRINCE IN REINMAR In the year of our Lord, 2023 ÖHNE UND TÖCHTER VON REINMAR, GATHER HEED, sons and daughters of Reinmar, and lend ear to the words of your Chieftain, Erwin. Let it be known across the forests and rivers, across the fields we have trod and the fires we have lit, that I write these words not as a proud man, nor as one who seeks pity, but as a man who has gazed upon his reflection and found it wanting. I write now not to command, but to confess. Not to rally, but to repent. I as your Chieftain have led you astray from the path of righteousness and that of our forebearers. For this, I have undertaken penance, that I might cleanse my soul before the sons of Horen, and before GOD Himself. With the sundering and defeat of the Covenant, a new age begins for the sons of Horen. With this new age, the Tribe of Theoderic and Gelimar shall return to the lands of our ancestors, the Franklands and the Langkette Pass. We return to these old lands to serve the King of Burgundy as Wardens of the Franklands and guardians of the Langkette. Let it be known to all that the tribe shall hold fast to this charge, guarding those lands as our ancestors once did. In my new station as a vassal of Tiberias of Burgundy, I shall style the lands of our ancestors as the Principality of Reinmar and remain the Prince in Reinmar like my grandfathers before me. Let no man say we return broken, for we return as sons and daughters of the soil, bound by oath and honor. I. The penance offered to the High Chief of Reinmar shall be acknowledged as served by all signatories. II. The High Chief of Reinmar and the Reinmaren people will swear Oath and Allegiance to Tiberias van Aert of the Kingdom of Burgundy. III. The Reinmaren people will migrate to the Franklands, and will have the duty of Warden over the Franklands and Guardians of Langkette. IV. The Principality of Reinmar is encouraged to retain their local laws and customs and may enforce them within their domain, notable exceptions handled by the King or his council. V. The Principality of Reinmar is permitted to sustain a Levy and Knightly Order. VI. The Principality of Reinmar has the right to punish Reinmaren for committing crimes against the Kanun within the territories of the Kingdom of Burgundy. WER RASTET, DER ROSTET HIS ROYAL HIGHNESS ERWIN, By the Grace of God and Light of the Ancestors, RVOOBE GMSTSR, Prince in Reinmar, Prince of Sutica and Minitz, Duke of Reinmar, Count of Kretzen, Neu Brandthof and Freimark, Burgrave of Langenkirch, Viscount of Tucay, Baron of Freising, Madvon, and Boriënwald, Lord of Sankt Johannsburg, Freisburg, Wilheburg, Rozenfeld, Erwinsburg, Neuberg and Durres, High Chief of the Reinmaren, Warden of the Franklands HIS ROYAL MAJESTY, Tiberias I, King of Burgundy, Duke of Middelan, Baron of Pestilles, Protector of Grense, Patriarch-Dynast of the Pertinaxi, etcetera.

ISSUED BY THE PRINCE IN REINMAR In the year of our Lord, 2023 TO THE HOSTS OF THE CHURCH AND TO THOSE WHO WAGE WAR IN THE NAME OF GOTT, AND ALLIES, AND SURVIVORS; Lo— I have watched as vultures, wanderers and the lost circle the smoking ruins of shattered keeps, calling out to any lord who would take them. The Lords of my kin or elsewise beckon with open hands and empty hearts, offering land that is not theirs to give, coin that holds no loyalty, and arms to those who pledge only fleeting allegiance. Men who served once beneath banners now serve none but themselves, shifting their loyalties as a man casts off a wet cloak. The wind changes, and so too do their oaths. And what of it? What do we find in these offers of refuge? A moral salve to hide the shame of burning towns? An army of rootless men, lacking memory, lacking people, lacking purpose? All gathered under the banner of the Pontiff’s cause—yet who among them knows what that cause even means? We were told the Church stood for something. For humanity. For the line of Horen, and the preservation of his legacy. We were told it would not bend knee to tea-parties, nor pamper scribes and courtiers who wear silk and perfume and speak of love when they mean decadence. Yet now— Now I see Numendil throw open its gates to whoever walks by, elf or half-man, vagabond or blasphemer, so long as he bears a sword. I see the hosts of the Church swell, yes—but with whom? What vision binds them? What order? I speak now not to shame, but to warn. If the alliance that stands with the Pontiff is to mean anything—anything beyond convenience and vengeance—then let it become something greater. Let it not be a chimera of convenience. Let it not be another Oren, bloated on every traveler’s favor, shedding its humanity one compromise at a time. For ask yourselves, lords of Numendil and captains of the Church: do we seek to reform mankind—to reforge it in the image of our fathers? Or do we merely mean to replace one hegemon with another, aping the very sins we condemned? Unlike my Adunian brothers, Unlike the elves, I do not invite all. I do not open my gates to every orphan of war and thief of flags. If you are truly a Son of Horen, then you may come to Reinmar. Come not for coin. Come not for land. Come to be made right. Come to serve law, not men. Come to put down roots and be a Vander—not for a season, but for life. Let the elves mock this letter, as they once mocked their betters- Let the tea-drinkers and parchment-lickers call us barbarians. But we shall stand. And when the smoke clears, those with no roots shall be carried away with the wind. This is no poetry. This is no teatime parable. This is the call of kin. If you still know what that means, you are welcome.

ISSUED BY THE PRINCE IN REINMAR In the year of our Lord, 2023 Lo, grace upon all men who hold sword and scepter, law and writ, war and judgment. Let my words be heard among the hosts of the Covenant, among the great houses and the lesser, among the men of faith and the men of war. It is known across the land that the Holy See of Lemon Hill has been raided, its halls defiled, and within them, the blood of a noble has been spilled. No warrior of worth calls this a battle. No man of order calls this righteous. It is not the clash of hosts upon the field, nor the contest of kings and captains. It is a thing done in darkness, a strike made in shadows where no shield may be raised, no answer given. It is shameful. It is without right. And I say now that I cast my voice against it. Reinmar did not will this. Reinmar did not sanction it. And yet Reinmar’s name is signed upon the deed, as if it were ours to claim. The house of my fathers does not fight as thieves in the night. The sons of Reinmar do not take up arms against priests and men at prayer, nor do we wage war in the halls of the Almighty. When we make war, we do so with honor, beneath the open sky, where men may stand before their fates and meet them with steel in hand. But who among us has forgotten this? Who among the Covenant strikes without order, without honor, without the burden of right? I look to my allies, and among them I see those who raise banners not for the cause, but for expediency. Those who ride not to forge a future, but to revel in the erosion of the present and past. Is this what we have become? A host of nameless killers, who know no law but the breath of the wind, no cause but living itself? I say to you, men of the Covenant—if we fight, we must fight as men of order, not as marauders who stain our cause with dishonor. If we wage war, let it be a war where each deed may be stood by in the days to come, not one where shadows must be cast over the shameful and the reckless. If we are to be the makers of history, then let us not be dishonoured in its telling. For this act, my name has been set to judgment. The Pontiff has cast me from the faith, yet the path to absolution is given: that I should stand against this deed and name it for what it is. And so I do. Not for my own sake, nor for the sake of those who think to break my will, but because I will not suffer my people to be bound to the dishonor of another’s hand. Let it be known—I do not rebuke my faith, nor do I rebuke the order that binds men to righteousness. I rebuke the lawless, the faithless, the men among all of those who call themselves sons of Hörn, Us, Covenant or Church or elsewise, who see war as a feast, who wear the cause like a cloak, but underneath hold only hunger for blood and ruin. If we are to win, if we are to stand before history as more than a passing warband, if we are to be one, if we are to hold fast to the ways of the hallowed Hörn, then we must purge this rot from among us. Let no man mistake this. I yield to no foreign will, nor do I falter upon my road. I remain as I am, a tribesman of the Reinmaren, a chieftain of my people. My cause does not waver, nor does my hand. But there is an order to things. And those who cast it aside will find they have no place in the days to come. So let the judgment be rendered, and let it be just. I have spoken.

ISSUED BY THE PRINCE IN REINMAR In the year of our Lord, 2023 Lo, grace unto you and peace upon all—men of Haense and Balian, of Petra and Hyspia, of Reinmar and the Canonist lands. And to you also, men of Numendil and Midland, of Ravenmire and the Elven realms, who do array yourselves beneath the Church’s banner. I set down these words not in jest nor deceit, but with the weight of a man bound to oaths, and yet troubled in spirit. I speak as one who sees the hand of fate writ upon the world, and it is not a steady hand, but one that trembles. I write not in defiance, nor in meekness, but as one who seeks to speak truth before the day of reckoning comes upon us all. For the storm is yet unfurled, and its ending is unknown. In my forefathers' day, the soldier bore virtue, and the blade in his hand was not freely given to any wretch who came knocking. When a man took up arms for Haense, or for Reinmar, or for any kingdom of the sons of Horen, he became one of them, bound to their law, their custom, their cause. He was not a sellsword who might drift with the wind, nor a palace-schemer who kissed the hand that fed him one day and turned it over to the knife the next. But see now the path of men—how all borders are thrown open, and those who cross them swear no true fealty! They take from the table of princes but do not guard the house. They clamor for silver, for rank, for glory, yet speak not the tongue of their lords, nor kneel in earnest, nor hold the land as their own. I see my allies open their gates to such men, place a sword in their hands, and weigh them down with gifts. And what then? They vanish ere the morning, taking their hoard with them to the next realm that would pamper them so. It is said that virtue is the root of a nation. Where then is the root of our own? If one may simply abandon his kingdom when hardship comes upon it, if one may wield the sword in the morning for one cause and turn it upon his former brothers by nightfall, then is there any true people left among us? Or are we merely a collection of those who happen to share a cause for the briefest of seasons? I speak not in idle sorrow, nor as a man who is ignorant of the ways of war. It has ever been the way of mankind to shift, to gather, to migrate. Yet in days past, when one came to a kingdom, he was shaped by it. He learned its tongue, its laws, its customs. He was not simply a wanderer seeking coin. He was a man who wished to belong. This, I say, is the bond that has been severed in our age. The people of today do not belong. They merely pass through. And our kings, our lords, our generals—do they seek to shape men into something greater? No. They seek only to harness them for a time, to use them, to promise them wealth, and then to forget them when they depart. I will speak plainly: this is the road to ruin. I lament also that I raise my sword against those who stood beside my forebears. The High Pontiff Harrentzedek was a friend to Saint Caius, and he walked beside him in the halls of the righteous. And yet honor bids me keep my word to the Covenant, though it is a hard road to walk. I do not say that the Church is blameless, nor do I deny the charge of worldly ambition among its clerics. That is plain to see. There are men among them who seek to wield the crozier as a scepter, who would sooner punish a prince than a heretic, who see the wealth of the world as their inheritance. But I will not say that this is the whole of them. For even as I ride against the Pontiff’s men, I cannot scorn all who stand beneath his banner. They fight with a unity that I find lacking among my own. They do not squabble over silver or land. They do not break rank because a greater bribe was offered. They do not treat their cause as a passing fancy. I see in them—aye, in the very ranks of my foes—that same soldier’s virtue which my allies have cast aside. They do not fight for coin, nor for the favor of nobles. They fight because they believe. And though I curse their hands that raise steel against my own, I cannot deny that this belief girds them with strength. And here is a bitter truth, one which I am loath to utter: at times, I see more of the virtue of my forebears among my enemies than among those who stand beside me. I would that we, the sons of Horen, had such resolve among our own! But what do I see also among the ranks of my foes? Not only those who fight for belief, not only those who stand with the Church out of duty or conviction—but also men of a baser sort, men who lift the sword for no cause but their own gain. Who revel in war not as a means to an end, but as an end unto itself. Who do not ask why they fight, only that they are paid. There are those among them who clothe themselves in righteousness, yet they are little more than marauders. They plunder under the guise of piety, not for any holy cause, but because war fills their purses. These are not the defenders of Canon who stood with my forebears. These are men who, if offered a higher wage, would just as soon burn the churches they now claim to defend. If war is to be waged, let it be waged for something higher than mere bloodlust, or wealth, or fleeting station. If a kingdom is to rise, let it be built on something stronger than the promises of men who would abandon it at the first hardship. And let those who claim the mantle of virtue look well upon their own ranks—for a man’s cause is only as strong as the hands that wield it. This war is not yet done. Its outcome is not yet known. But I say this: the end of a war is not the end of struggle. There will come a day when swords are lowered, when banners are folded, when men must decide what world they will build from the ashes. I do not know who shall stand victorious, nor who shall be brought low. But I know this: if mankind does not return to virtue, if it does not cast off the ways of transient loyalty and self-serving ambition, then it shall not matter who wins. I name no man in this letter, nor do I call any to betrayal, nor to change sides. That is not my charge. But let it be said plainly—if this path of stagnation continues, if the virtue of the soldier is not restored, if men continue to drift rootless as the chaff in the wind, then let none weep when the sons of Horen fall to ruin. There will be many after this war who claim they fought for virtue, that they alone held fast to the old ways, that they alone were righteous. I will not speak for others, nor defend myself with empty words. I say only this: honor is the burden of men who keep their word, even when it pains them. He who leads a nation inherits its past. He who carries the blade must know its weight. He who swears an oath must not falter in its keeping. And so, my foes shall call me a poet, a writer—one of the “men of letters” who fashion words instead of striking blows. They shall say that the Covenant is filled with poets, as was said in wars before by Gaspard, that we fashion musings and rebukes while the field is lost beneath our feet. There are those among your ranks, no doubt, who already scoff at these words, who will raise the old cry that battle is won with steel, not with ink. And perhaps some of the very sons of Gaspard will count themselves among those mocking, blind to the bitter humor of their own echo. Yet there is folly in this. If you are to win, if you are to build a kingdom—nay, an empire—shall you rule by the sword alone? Shall you build your world upon the edge of a blade, as though steel were eternal and bloodshed a foundation upon which men may rest? If the pen is weak, why then does your own Pontiff write more than any prince? Why does the Church not rule by the blade alone, but by decree, by canon, by word and law? I shall tell you why: because grievances must be set in order, for if they are not, then the lowliest brigand may claim the mantle of High Pontiff, and a kingdom shall be no different from a den of thieves. Look, then, upon Harrentzedek, whom I do not revile. He is no bandit, but a theologian. He does not raise his crozier without cause, nor wield his ink without purpose. And if you are to count yourselves as his righteous warriors, as men of the faith, then I bid you answer me this: is your war merely one of swords, or is it a war of faith, of justice, of order? And if it is the latter, then will you mock the written word when the Church itself has built its dominion upon it? If a man may not speak, if a man may not rebuke, if a man may not set down his words for judgment, then what remains of law? Of canon? Of justice? Shall all things be settled with axe and fire, without thought or reason? Then let us cease with our titles and thrones, let us throw down our crowns and miters, and give way to the strongest brute among us. But you would not do so, for you know—as I know, as all men know—that no kingdom endures upon violence alone. So scoff, if you will. Call me a poet, a scribe, a sonnetmaker. But remember this: long after swords are rusted and battlefields have gone to grass, it is words that remain. And if you mean to win, not for a day, not for a year, but for an age, then your victory must be more than steel. It must be truth. And truth, whether you like it or not, is carried by the written hand. Let those with ears hear.

Erwin Barclay hopped and skipped about with glee as he heard the news that another Kretzenfest was to take place.

Erwin Barclay lifted the head of the felled goat with a self-satisified grin as he rode back to his home of Kretzen. He'd offer the burning trees of Belvedere one last look before galloping off.

ISSUED BY THE PRINCE IN REINMAR In the year of our Lord, 2012 ÖHNE UND TÖCHTER VON REINMAR, GATHER HEED, sons and daughters of Reinmar, and lend ear to the words of your Chieftain, Erwin. Rejoice in the knowledge that an heir to the tribe has been born, a child of promise, blessed by the grace of GOTT and the blood of our noble ancestors. As the winds of fate turn favorably upon our halls, so too does the light of hope shine upon the hearths of Reinmar. With great joy and solemn pride, I, Erwin, your Chieftain, announce unto you sons and daughters of Reinmar that my beloved wife has borne us a son, a future Chieftain, who shall walk in the footsteps of his forefathers and bear the weight of our ancient line. In the fullness of this joy, let it also be known that the child, this heir to Reinmar, has been named Siegfried Otto, to honor our kin of yore - Warchief of Theoderic's Warband, brother to Leon Brandt and to honor Saint Otto of Vanderfell. Rejoice! For a hunt and a feast shall be held in the coming Saint’s days to honor this child of mine, and future Chieftain. Let all gather in merriment to honor the blessing bestowed unto our tribe. Together, we shall take to the Ferdenwald for a hunt, followed by a bountiful feast, where tales of old shall be spoken and songs foretelling the greatness of this child’s fate shall resound. Let the firelight warm our spirits as we revel in the joy of this occasion, marking the beginning of a new chapter for our people. WER RASTET, DER ROSTET HIS ROYAL HIGHNESS ERWIN, By the Grace of God and Light of the Ancestors, RVOOBE GMSTSR, Prince in Reinmar, Prince of Sutica and Minitz, Duke of Reinmar, Count of Kretzen, Neu Brandthof and Freimark, Burgrave of Langenkirch, Viscount of Tucay, Baron of Freising, Madvon, and Boriënwald, Lord of Sankt Johannsburg, Freisburg, Wilheburg, Rozenfeld, Erwinsburg, Neuberg and Durres, High Chief of the Reinmaren, Warden of the Ferdenwald and Franklands HER ROYAL HIGHNESS, WILHELMINA VON BRANDTHOF, Princess of Minitz and Sutica

Erwin Barclay stepped onto a cliffside overlooking Reinhurst; he'd maintained a solid composure, and a placid look spread across his countenance. The heavy winds would blow his shaggy blond mullet back, and the rain would splatter on his face. "I shall do the ancestors proud; I shall do mother proud."

Erwin Barclay perused the missive with a look of great appeasement, "Hopefully, Reinhurst can get the craftsmen it needs! Perhaps I'll get new horseshoes from their blacksmith whenever one shows himself."

Erwin uttered a small prayer for his beloved cousin and all the Haensemen.

ISSUED BY THE PRINCES IN REINMAR In the year of our Lord, 2004 ÖHNE UND TÖCHTER VON REINMAR, GATHER HEED, sons and daughters of Reinmar, and lend ear to the words of your Prince, Erwin, who does now sit as chieftain and master of the mountains and rivers. Listen well, sons and daughters of the Ferdenwald and clans of Reinmar; ye knights and men-at-arms who gird yourselves in the harness of glorious battle; and ye robed priests who chant the Canon’s truth before the altars of our faith. Hearken, too, O Hallowed Pontiff, whose prayers call down Gott's blessing upon us all. Let all who bear the blood of Hörn and Theoderic heed this proclamation. Lo! The hour has come when I, Erwin, son of Reinmar, must take upon my brow the crown of my forefathers and tread the path all chieftains have tread. By the decree of the ancestors, the will of the Kanun, and the grace of the Almighty, I, Erwin of the line of Theoderic and Gelimar, do declare unto all the tribes and clans of Reinmar that a day of rejoicing fast approaches upon our hall and hearths. The mantle of Prince and Chieftain of Minitz, borne by the steadfast hands of my forebear, my hallowed grandfather, now falls upon my shoulders. With it comes the sacred duty to lead our tribe alongside the venerable Frederica, my beloved mother. By the will of our tribe, I shall ascend as Prince in Reinmar, master of our lands, protector of our ways, and servant to the Lord, who does guide us. In this same hour, my beloved wife, Wilhelmina, shall also rise, and by my side, she will take upon her the noble title of Princess of Minitz, as my consort. Let it be known to all kin and kith that I shall don the crown of Venerable Leon before the eyes of the Almighty and the folk of Reinmar, wrought in the fires of tradition and sanctified by the prayers of the Church. Beneath the Grand Altar, where the spirits of our ancestors dwell, and before the Mercyflame of Owinrich that burns eternal, the coronation shall be held, that all may witness the binding of my Schwur to the land and to you, my kin. Mark this well, O tribesmen of Reinmar: on that day of the Lord Gott, as the bells toll and the horns sound, let all come forth. Let the warriors who bear the seax and the spear stand tall among the green and blue banners. Let the elders and the young walk forth to see the crowning of their Prince. Let the priests sing aloud the hymns of the Canon and bless the earth we tread. For this is the day when we, the people of Reinmar, renew our Schwur to one another, to our faith, and to the ancestors who came before us. [OOC: To be held on Sunday the 1st of December, at 4 PM EST.] THE HOLY MOTHER CHURCH His Holiness, FLEEPER, High Pontiff of the Holy Mother Church. The College of Cardinals. The Synod of Bishops. The Clergy of Clement and Evaristus. TO THE REALMS OF CANONDOM His Royal Majesty, MARIUS III, King of the Dual Kingdom of Hanseti-Ruska and the Haeseni people. Her Royal Majesty, ADALIA, Queen of the Commonwealth of the Petra and the Petran peoples. His Eminence, IVAN, The Cardinal-Regent of the Kingdom of Balian and the Balianite people. Her Royal Majesty, TAR-CARANETH, Queen of the Kingdom of Númendil and the Númenedain people. His Grace, ATTICUS KEEN, Princeps of Ivoria and the Ivori people. ATSUKO, Shugo of Koyo-Kuni and the Oyashiman people. TO THE WALDENIC DIET Her Highness, JOHANNA VON ALSTREIM, Elector of Merryweather-Alstreim. His Grace, AUREL VON THEONUS, Elector of Vohenheim. The Most Honourable, LEUFROY VON REUSS, Elector of Velen. The Most Honourable, FRIEDRICH VON AUGUSTEN, Elector of Hohengarten. Envoys of the Salvian Syndicate. TO THE ALLIES OF THE PRINCIPALITY Her Excellency, ILLYRIA, Princess of the Principality of Celia’nor and the Celia’norian people. WER RASTET, DER ROSTET HIS ROYAL HIGHNESS ERWIN, Prince in Reinmar and of Minitz, Count of Neu Brandthof, Viscount of Tucay, Baron of Hussen, Sigradz, and Boriënwald, Lord of Durres, Chieftain of the Reinmaren, Warden of the Franklands and Ferdenwald

@Gandhi and him alone

Erwin Barclay, Johann's lord, couldn't help but smile as he read the excerpt. "I am glad to see Reinmaren with a keen interest in exploration! Perhaps I ought to visit the lands of these pink trees."

Erwin stood still on the palace terrace. He had wished to play his harp but could not bring himself to do it. His watchful eyes drifted towards the Ferdenwald as they had when he was a youth; old dreams of wild stags and frightening boars came back to view for the man within his mind. He could not help but ask himself, "Am I ready?"

Erwin Barclay let out a few weepy tears as he read the will, which was uncommon for the man. "It is hard to believe she is truly gone, and so soon, she will never meet her grandchildren on this earth."

Erwin Barclay reads the tale with great interest; he tucks away his copy for safekeeping before pondering its meaning. "Lady von Brandthof is very wise; this precautionary tale will do wonders for the tribe."