TaytoTot

Monika cries now that her youngest sister is getting married and she's still single

"What traitors." Therese von Theonus stated as she reclined in her office chair, shaking her head. "We should have just let Anthony take them away all those years ago. Probably would've saved us a few headaches." She laughed to her lonesome.

Annette von Theonus waited in the skies for Marcel, that usual smile plastered on her features. "Velcome to dur new home, kinder. Ich see zhat du have done much for mein descendants. Do du mind telling mich dur story?" The woman asked as she went to wrap her arm around the newcomer, guiding him.

Dame Monika prepares some gifts for her friend as a congratulations!

Therese von Theonus assumes the invitation to all Haverlocks to extend to herself.

"Wow, nein personal invitation for her favourite tante und mentor!" Monika shook her head playfully.

“Spirits, who the **** cares?” The ever tired Ventys commented. “We leave you alone, leave us.” She rolled her eyes and went to help her wife.

"Boat jousting. . .?" Monika asked, tilting her head as she looked at the page. "Sounds fun, right Richard?" She turned to nothing beside her. Perhaps another hallucination. . .

Dame Monika prepares her finest dress for the occasion and set out to get a mask made!

Dame Monika immediately sets out to find her niece!

As the gates of Reinmar loomed before her, a grotesque creature stood at their gate's threshold, its twisted form illuminated by the infernal blaze. Beside it, a demon-like figure lurked in the shadows, obediently following the creature's barked commands. With a quickness born of instinct, the Dame drew her weapon from its sheath, the steel gleaming in the firelight as she approached. “What brings you here, creature?” She demanded of the creature. Another voice in the tumult clambered for the ringing of a bell, but Monika paid it no heed. The woman, unaware of the impending danger, found herself suddenly surrounded by a ring of fire, its flames licking hungrily at the edges of her vision. Panic surged within her as she scrambled to evade the inferno's reach, but fate was unkind, and she felt the searing heat envelop her, igniting her cape in a blazing inferno. Curses spilled from her lips as she fought desperately to rid herself of the fiery shroud, the flames dancing maliciously across her skin. With a scream of agony, she collapsed to her knees, the world spinning in a dizzying whirl of pain. Through gritted teeth, she tore the burning fabric from her body, hurling it aside in a desperate bid for salvation. Yet even as she struggled to regain her bearings, a sudden impact struck her face like a thunderbolt, plunging her into the depths of unconsciousness. The distant shouts of men echoed in her ears as darkness closed in around her, swallowing her cries and leaving naught but silence in its wake. As her body fought valiantly to mend the wounds inflicted upon it, the woman found herself drifting into a realm of introspection. Seven minutes stretched into eternity as her consciousness delved deep into the recesses of her mind, where memories lay cloaked in shadow. In the theatre of her thoughts, a kaleidoscope of emotions danced across the stage of her past. She relived the highs and lows of her tumultuous relationship with Ottomar, her brother, the echoes of her father's voice reverberating through the corridors of her memory. There were whispered conversations about her fate, the meetings that had led her family to flee to the sanctuary of Petra. . . . But then, abruptly, the reverie was shattered. A foul odour invaded her senses, jolting her back to awareness. With a start, she blinked open her remaining eye, clouded with pain yet still discerning the figures of Sir Artel and Canonious hovering nearby. "Artel..." Her voice emerged as a hoarse whisper, a plea tinged with urgency. "Can you... send a letter for me?"

The blinded Dame Monika wishes that she could read right now

Issued 6th of the Grand Harvest 113 Atstana de Regne Petrère Last Saint’s day, I encountered a confrontation with a Darkspawn within the confines of the Haense territories. Seeing carnival grounds erected, I found myself within the vicinity. As I conversed with some members of Saint Jude, my attention was soon redirected to a matter of concern raised by Canonius regarding a cloaked figure situated within the main tent. This figure hid beneath brown robes and spoke just as typical people do. It spoke of a creature known as the ‘White Cat’, orchestrating infiltration of sinister beings into our very churches. Knowing that this was Darkspawn from Ser Gerard, we took the creature into combat, quickly trying to flee. Luckily, one of the Brothers of Saint Karl shot it with a bolt, stopping the vile thing in its tracks. This creature was concealing its large form beneath layers of robe, though clearly had a large beak. As a dwarf and Ser Gerard hit their final blows, black ichor pooled from the creature. We are suspected to believe that we have faced this creature in Petra before. In light of this encounter, it has been deemed imperative that the remains are examined, with any pertinent discoveries being reported immediately. Signed, Dame Monika Aleksiya von Augusten ‘The Devoted’ Knight of the Petrine Laurel

Dame Monika plucked a bounty off the noticeboard, her gauntleted hand quickly crumbling the paper. She quickly set off to put her name forward then!

Dame Monika taps her finger, looking around within her room, thinking on what to bring!