HearsayofHansetiRuska

“A REVISITATION - ROZIK I VE KORTZ”

And so it continues.

The Hearsay of Hanseti-Ruska

Edition XV

Tov ag Yermey, 441 ES

The time between our last editions has steadied to a consistent ten years, far too long for this author’s satisfaction. I had hoped that my last edition would spurg the populace into action. Are you all still so pleased with your inactivity, your lack of substance? Quite the drolling affair, pulling substance from an empty barrel to entertain the masses. You are lucky, dear reader, that I am of the generous sort.

A ROYAL UNION IN TURMOIL

~

It is most intriguing that this writer must report on the ruling couple so publicly, but it seems they themselves have little regard in keeping their private life just that, private. Many a courtier has been abuzz with gossip, whispers bouncing throughout the halls of the newly constructed Morrivi Prikaz, all of which lowly murmur of the turmoil brewing between His and Her Royal Majesty. It is not unusual for strife to become prevalent amongst the royal union, as we have seen many a king and queen suffer a clash of opinions, but there has been such a drastic change in the relationship between the patriarch of Barbanov and his bride, that this writer must wonder, has a certain flaxen-haired vas Ruthern finally clawed the King from his marital bed?

This writer must inquire how one could claim the royal matrimony was one made out of love, as the actions of the King and Queen simply do reflect they have pure dislike for one another. All four of their children reflect the poor behaviors exhibited by the parents, showcasing a perfect example of how a souring relationship can ruin the flourishing fruit. It saddens the writer to see a once hopeful royal family brought to wreckage purely because love isn’t enough. 

A BRIDELESS BARUCH

~

Matyas Baruch, recently knighted by His Royal Majesty, has had the longest engagement that this writer has ever seen. In his youth, the young Ser was reportedly betrothed to a common Rutledge woman, one such lady who the city of Karosgrad has never seen again! It’s certainly a curiosity as to why Ser Baruch never chose to take a wife, or as to why his betrothed abandoned him in the first place. 

Many a rumor has reached this author's ears, murmuring that the reason Miss. Rutledge abandoned her engagement with Ser Matyas, was due to the fact she discovered an illicit affair between Ser Matyas and the late Konstanz Barclay! The two were extremely close, and the Ser Matyas has grieved for the late Konstanz more than he did his own mother, repeatedly growing teary-eyed whenever the deceased Barclay is mentioned in conversation. 

A CRAVING FOR A BARBANOV

~

    Affection seems to be in the air as many young suitors finally reach the age of majority and begin the arduous search for a bride or groom. Disastrously, this writer can’t help but notice the lack of males in this next breed. You’d think last generation would be worse with Baruch only being of female stock, but this Lifstala will have an almost three women to one man ratio!

    Unluckily for Prince Georg Sigismund, the Heir to the Kingdom, this means that triple the amount of women fending for the title of Queen are already grappling at him. Many have seen him lingering in dark hallways with strange women. Surprisingly, most are notably grotesque and of low birth - the opposite of a fit bride for the kingdom. Perchance this is his way of coping or getting back at his parents for being lackluster with their emotions. 

    However, the author must shame two specific women for taking advantage of a kind and generous boy, especially before Lifstala or outside of the Juliyafest celebrations. Both have publicly referred to him as ‘their love’ or ‘their prince’ as if staking a claim. The first being a lowly bastard of an unfaithful Duke, Viorica Barrow. She may seem sweet, but the girl is the complete opposite. Having been seen around the sneaky and conniving Austina Aldersberg, the pair must be up to no good as they continue to plot. Secondly, a Kortrevich named Esfir. She is a much more suitable match, being the eldest of the Viscount and heir. Yet, her hair and features age dramatically each day. By their wedding day she might as well be a bag of bones! (Not to mention, she would be utterly destroying her house in the process.)

 THE VAR RUTHERN RACE

~

It seems that His Serene Highness is not the only member of the Barbanov brood to be so aggressively pursued, as whatever qualities our charming heir possesses has also been passed onto his young sister, Her Royal Highness Analiesa. Since childhood, the princess has been swarmed by two suitors in particular, being the twin brothers Ruthern. Aleksandr var Ruthern, Baron of Rostig, and his twin brother, Vladimir, dubbed ‘the Valiant’ by Her Royal Highness. They have been in a contest of wits to win the affection of our dear princess. Being the only daughter of the King and Queen, it’s no wonder that the lords of Haense are so desperate to secure a marriage with the Barbanov-Bihar family, and that is most definitely what the Rutherns display - desperation. 

The two brothers have come to blows more than once fighting over the princess, one may even notice a thin scar prevalent upon the cheek of Vladimir, one such given to him during a particularly nasty altercation with his brother. Many of my doves have overheard the princess speaking of such an occasion, claiming that this scar was left by the pin of a brooch - a beautiful piece of jewelry, still covered in blood, that Aleksandr gifted to her following the brutal physical fight.

Some years before, during the tourney to name a new grand champion of Karosgrad, the Ducal mother overheard of her two boys intentions to court the Princess. Within earshot of the Duchess, Her Royal Highness boasted about how Vladimir had hand-crafted her a string of pearls, a necklace that she was wearing proudly and showing off to all of her close friends. Her Grace, Duchess Margrait, immediately uprooted herself from her seat and burst into the royal box, to which she began reprimanding Her Royal Majesty, the Queen. Her Grace demanded that either a betrothal be made between the princess and one of her two sons, or that Princess Analiesa cease her entertainment of the two young lords immediately.

Her Royal Majesty immediately denied any notions of betrothal, and instead, saw it fit to begin slinging insults. She slyly slipped into conversation a comment regarding Duchess Margrait’s husband, inquiring if she were worried that her sons may turn out just like their father - a dog. Her Grace retorted in kind, asking the Queen if she were aware of her own husband's infidelity - having witnessed a night of passion between His Royal Majesty and a common artist from Karosgrad, within her own very bed chambers!

This writer recalls her works with certainty, and it was not unfamiliar for her to have to pluck her quill from its ink to write of the latest scandal concerning King Karl’s love life. One may remember how he was so publicly intertwined with the ‘Vixen of Karosgrad’, her Royal Majesties closest of friends. Could he have betrayed the Queen’s trust? Did he simply… settle for the next best thing?

He claims not, having ridden to the keep of Vidaus to face Duchess Margrait and her accusations, after being confronted by his own daughter in floods of tears! My doves report that it was certainly a sight to see, with King Karl standing atop the drawbridge on the back of his steed, barking down to the Duchess that those in glass houses, must not throw stones. He defended both the honor of his wife, and his daughter.

With such shameful displays thrown into the open courts for all to see, this writer does not foresee a betrothal occurring before Lifstala anytime soon. Only time will tell if further suitors for the young princess reveal themselves from the woodwork.

WHERE HAVE ALL THE FATHERS GONE?

~

One must ask, why are the daughters tasteless and the sons vulgar within the upcoming generation? Some may blame the late Dorothea for being inattentive in her education of the minors, but I dear reader, know the legitimate root of this dramatic issue.

The writer has noticed the overall lack in masculinity throughout our kingdom, but it all began before this generation was ever sired. If you open your eyes you’ll notice the little details, like Bishop Maya’s husband Dmitry always on a hunting trip or the Duchess of Valwyck’s consort forever working and never devoting time to his children. This is not simply an issue found in the lands to the North and East of Karosgrad, but everywhere. Where is the Duchess of Reinmar’s husband? Or even the King of Haense? 

For all one knows the men are vanishing for long periods of time to smoke and play cards at best, but at worst? This author can only imagine… maybe they have issues with taking commands from powerful women so they are merely ignoring everyone in demonstration of their crude manliness! One thing is for sure though, a family cannot only be raised by a woman. 

In conclusion, dearest readers, our city is awash with the impetuosity of our higher class citizens. In previous generations, surly melodramas were common, but unlike our current brood of out-of-order delinquents. Seemingly no one learned of a little thing called ‘patience’. Gone are the days of tactful smiles and carefully worded compliments - instead we face brash, unyielding courtiers with little regard for houses reputation. 

I dear reader, plan to set you right. Brush up on your etiquette dearest lords and ladies, for you are as expendable as my feathered quill.

An ornate wooden box would be publicly located under the steps of the Morrivi staircase. When opened, one would see freshly printed sheets with the magnificent title of ‘HEARSAY’ on top. 

“A REVISITATION - ROZIK I VE KORTZ”

And so it continues.

The Hearsay of Hanseti-Ruska

Edition XIII

Gronna ag Droba, 421 ES

And here the court was at a standstill, in the assumption that the last of their controversies would end with the Lifstala. A mindless jest, to think that so! For it is you, dearest readers, who wish to spread this web of scandal, and so this author obliges. It will not be sparing.

A GRAND CATCH

~

While the happenings of the Lifstala were all but dry, there is certainly one woman in our courts who is anything but; Angelika vas Ruthern -- or should this author say, Angelika of Vidaus? Alas, she may not be available to wed, though it seems she has given many-a-man a run for his minas. Among them, this author has heard, is our most noble Grand Prince Karl Sigmar! A rake she is not, but a vixen of the season! My birdies chirp of her scandalous lovemaking with those among her fellow hexers. And now, she supposedly locks lips with the heir to the Dual-Kingdom outside of courtship? My, oh my! Perhaps our Prince is not so maidenless as was once thought, especially when he is so intertwined with a Lady of foreign descent. Perhaps the Lady Amadea would be better to reconsider the match, if his eyes continue to retain their tendency for wandering…

THE FALL OF ALBAN

~

One would think sinking her claws into the Grand Prince would be enough for the young Angelika, who has on numerous occasions been close enough to stroke his glittering crown… Yet, she is still, evidently, not content! Many of you are sure to have heard the rumours. I write to address them. Lord Matyas Isaak, a notorious flirt himself, was spotted scampering off with her at the Princely wedding just last Saint’s Day. They were discovered entangled in sheets, cheeks reddened with a guilty sheen. Actions always have repercussions, dear Matyas. Though, of this, I suppose you are already well-aware. His engagement with the Lady Adele, heir to the House of Ludovar, an even tempered and forgiving woman, has been terminated, mere days before the ringing of the wedding bells! Even if Lady Adele wished to make amends, her father surely does not. The Lord Ludovar has reportedly shunned the boy, barring him from further contacting his daughter and has challenged him to an honour duel. Was it worth it, Lord Alban? Do tell me, for I am quite curious. One night of unbridled passion at the cost of one’s entire future. Ha! I suppose this will provide the boy much inspiration for his next work, but what use is a playwright when he lives his own tragedy?

THE POLLINATED ROSE

~

It would appear to this author that the young Lady Dorothea vas Ruthern possesses a withering constitution, as she has recently been heard moaning of her ill-health. This writer would note that this was indeed most prevalent during the exchange of vows between His Highness, Ser Lucien Auréle, and his bride Lady Stefaniya vas Ruthern, where she was seen nearly doubled over and barely managing to stand. This season’s Rose carried herself with uncharacteristically poor posture, with an undoubtedly greyed countenance. Many speculate this may have something to do with the ungodly amount of time she spends cooped up in the Nikirala. A flu spreading between the elite, perhaps? Or, more favourably to the author, Lady Dorothea simply overstepped and spent far too much time in the bedchambers of her beloved, Prince Josef Frederik. Could it be possible that our Ruskan Rose is with child? The once near perfection she was, tainted with impurity? 
 

A POET’S LAMENT

~

Our resident Court Poet is everything one might expect of a man of sonnets and verse. The word tortured comes to mind; a rather apt description of his countenance as of late. The poor Kortrevich, who showed such promise with his lyrical ballads during our Social Season! Naturally, my birds were watching. Listening to him spin pretty tales, rhyme couplets of woe -- it brought me quite on the brink of emotion. The latest edition to his repertoire is one worth noting, indeed. “I Hate You,” how delightful. If I may just quote some of his brilliant imaginings: 

“You spurn me, wench. You insult me, wretch. You will suffer, watch. I will always hate you.”

It is my personal favourite of his works for its candidness -- the outpouring of emotion unstifled at last. But whom is it directed to? Well, dear reader, Lord Borris Kortrevich was cuckolded by none other than Her Royal Highness, Carolina Milena, for her preferred partner; an elf. It is almost poetry that writes itself! I do wish for the boy to keep faith, lift his chin, and find a partner worthy of his fine words. We shall look forward to the Kortrevich’s publication of love poems, one day.

The Barbanovs provide endless material, I dare say. My pen scribbles to keep up as one scandal after the other befalls them. A mistress here, dark dealings there… Heed these words, for it should be the last warning of many;

There is not a secret safe from our eyes.

Ink put onto parchment, where the hands shakily dismantle the deception in our court. As with previous editions, my address is afforded.

[OOC: Discord HearsayOfHaense#1132]

“A REVISITATION - ROZIK I VE KORTZ”

And so it continues.

The Hearsay of Hanseti-Ruska

Edition XII

Tov ag Yermey, 419 ES

With the start of our beloved Haeseni social season, ardour thickens the sky as lovers lead to bloody belligerents. This author has much to say as the months of spectacle and unseen truth comes to light, through my eyes and into the hand of the reader. Hearts will be broken and coins flipped. But what have we here on this side of a Royal coin? The dull Prince Sergei Aleksandr, who claims to be no more than a humble dynast -- keeping loyal to one Aloisa Barclay. Upon the other, the lustrous Prince Josef Frederick, living a lavish lifestyle as one might expect. But we know it is not to be true. He claims to be a Prince of many women, but then why did we find poor Josie writing his own feats of women in a letter to the Hearsay? And why did we spy the Prince Sergei making good use of that new maze in the gardens with one who dons blonde locks? Both seem to be living opposite, in the other’s dream world.

TWO SIDES OF THE VYRONOV COIN

~

These new Vyronovs of ours have seemed to have left more of a mark than their distant branch of kin -- Stefan the bone idle rocks back and forth at home as the duo take the stage. Albeit, one of these boys appears to have undergone stagefright, and the other leaving the crowds crying for an encore. One Grigori Vyronov not only vowed his joust in favour of Aloisa Barclay, but also pathetically urged that his family’s honour be smitten if he were to lose against the Duke of Vidaus. He did lose, oho. Most laughed at him, some with him, but certainly we know he cried in his lonesome to sleep that night. If not for his younger, more promising brother, the Vyronov upcoming would have been snuffed out as hastily as Princess Klara Elizaveta’s Lily Knight bestowal.

Lukas’ rosy cheeks appeared from the entrance of the arena, accompanied by a red rose between his teeth. This may have been the start of the Duke Johann’s insecure missive outbursts as he tossed the rose into the arms of the Barclay Duchess, proclaiming that his presented duel against the Marshal himself would be in her glorious favour. In a great spectacle, Lukas Vyronov made Johann kneel and contradictively oathed him on how one should properly duel. His wife on the far end of the arena even smiled out of her character as her favour was won, perhaps owing to the fact that her husband provides no attention for his lonely wife.

Yet, the nepotistic Queen who seems to only approve of her children and peers gave no time of day for our commoner gallant. One would think she would share a sliver of her day for the appreciation of our common folk, considering her previous family of House Kortrevich was on the brink of demotion into the peasant class. That must have slipped her mind. One noble who does have a fondness for those below them is Zoya Ruthern, often seen wandering into seclusion with the eldest Vyronov boy.

THE MOUSEMAN IMPERIAL

~

Imperial agents slink around the corners of Haense, but is anyone truly surprised that the good heart of our King has been taken advantage of? Even less astonished were we to hear this agent was sent directly from Philip the Fiddler as an ambassador to our nation to sow dismay, no doubt. While this John Aurelian was treated with dignity, he could not manage the same to the apple of his eye: Princess Klara Elizaveta. It is true, an Orenian spy in love with a member of the Royal Family! As unforeseen as this could be, she was certainly a step up from any harpy in his homeland… That was, until she was caught in a dance with her new flame! This author can only imagine this reignited his hatred for the Haeseni, as the one woman of class who would dare look in this Aurelian’s direction suddenly veered from his advances. The ambassador, who squeaked more alike to a mouse in his anger, has been rumoured to have struck these women and fled in his fear -- a fitting end to run from the cat’s claws.

THE DUKES’ WAR

~

Coming from a line of historically short, proud men, Mikhail var Ruthern is no different from his father and grandfather. But when I say proud, it is almost insolence in the Baron. We all know that he struck Margrait Baruch after she denied his cringe-inducing advances including a child’s picture book. This might have been the seed to nurture how he is now. Our little Ruthern admirers often spill how it is he who punishes his parents for misbehaviour and not vice versa. Going as far as to have crafted a closet named the Chokey in his miserable little room, which his sisters and mother are often chucked into for hours on end.

Inevitably now, Mikhail has alas allowed his not so prudent mouth to run rampant in the wrong direction. Calling what I namesake “the Seagles,” Erika and Sybilla Barclay, wenches. These two just yearn to have their only personality trait of taking offence regarding trivial matters brought to light. Johann Barclay, who was already both irate and insecure at being shown up by the youngest Vyronov, instantly took back to Reinmar with his heart in his mouth. To draft a handful of ill-willed, vengeance letters to the Baron; a fifteen year old boy. War might be on the horizon… The question I pose to you, dear reader, is; whose side are you on? 

BEWARE THE… BICLOPS OF ALBAN?

~

This author wonders why none have thought to mention the fact that one Lady Elizaveta Ulyana now has two eyes? Was she not “the Cyclops of Alban,” mere years ago? Is this natural? Coupled with her rather sinister display at the debut of the Lady Sorina, I should think not. Perhaps her dearest friend’s mother, the Witch of Woldzimir, brewed some foul concoction which restored her sight. Or perhaps she has appealed to Iblees in some dark, twisted ritual. I pray her fiendish nature does not rub off on those she holds dear.

THE DUTY OF A KING

~

Within this Haeseni Season the ultimate prize is yet to be obtained. The title hangs over each lady’s head, to be “Queen of Hanseti-Ruska.” It dangles there, like a sparkling yet dangerously pointed chandelier, winking in an alluring light. Our Grand Prince, Karl Sigmar, has been reclusive -- no! Reluctant, in showing any outward favour to a particular lady. Our sources have nailed his preferences down to two favourites, the Lady Amadea d’Arkent, and Lady Sorina Luceafăru. Surprising choices. Yet it seems the Prince is not a pursuer of love or passion like his brothers. He has boasted of a list; A royal criteria of qualities his lucky soon-to-be Queen must fulfil. How romantic… What this checklist for his perfect match consists of, we cannot confirm. Smarts, beauty, strength, meekness? This author can reiterate, however, that with every scratching of my pen, time ticks by. Can you hear it, my Prince? The ominous knells of marriage loom. Your siblings have each found their matches swiftly enough. We are awaiting your decision, with bated breath.

Tensions are rising as I once more dip my pen in ink, for the war-spirit has surely overtaken this Kingdom. I am not one for fighting, not destined to yield a sword. I boast a weapon far more powerful. Be assured, this column will continue to remark on the far more interesting wars… battles of jealousy, wrath, and squirming unease.

Ink put onto parchment, where the hands shakily dismantle the deception in our court. As with previous editions, my address is afforded.

[OOC: Discord HearsayOfHaense#1132]

“A REVISITATION - ROZIK I VE KORTZ”

And so it continues.

The Hearsay of Hanseti-Ruska

Edition X

Tov ag Yermey, 416 ES

Dearest readers, this author owes you an apology, for I have left you in desperation, longing for my writings and the scandal of the Dual-Kingdom. But, an apology alone does not make up for lost time. My birdies have carried whispers to my ears, and my, do they have much to say. 

THE SCHOLAR AND THE CRETIN

~

As this author first put ink to parchment I had thought this ‘Penman’ the only halfwit worthy of my scorn, though it would seem I was mistaken. Of the aforementioned Penman, it is clear that this Imperial author shares in the common idiocy of their countrymen, with misspellings and poor punctuation abound. I suppose, then, that it is rather thankful the article is so lacking in the length department. Though, even if this Penman had wished to write a longer, more eloquent piece, I fear their efforts would be wasted on the ladies of Orenia. What a dull group they are!   

As for the “Juxtaposition of Power and Envy,” a certain Iulius asserts that my writings are nothing more than hearsay. While the title of this publication is rather unfortunate, I would caution against such a hasty appraisal. Of course, such backlash is to be expected. Though, this author should remind you; I am not the source of these rumours. No, no! That honour belongs to the people of our beloved Hanseti-Ruska, whose minds you claim so vehemently I am poisoning. But, I digress. I wonder which of the pieces in the ninth edition you claim to be falsehoods? When you say, “…a majority of these statements are declared to be false shortly after public conception,” of which do you speak? Could you be speaking of the article on Princess Klara Elizaveta? Though of course, that one was merely a recital of events, free of any speculation, for those unfortunate moments transpired before the eyes of many of the court. And, indeed, she was sent to Savoy after mutilating the child of a peer, alongside the strumpet-to-be that is Aloisa Barclay, just as was written. Perhaps, instead you were referring to the scandal surrounding Prince Andrik Nikolas? This is the most likely case, as you dedicated such a large portion of your writings to it. I would like to call attention to the fact it was Lady Nikoleta herself who stated she caught the two in tender embrace and it was she who made such a display of burning the Prince’s possessions. Mind you, she only changed her tune following the annulment of her marriage based on the grounds of endangerment, despite the letter penned by the Prince’s very own hand proclaiming his love to the Savoyard. So then, I ask once more; What is it I have lied about? To this author it would seem you are merely a bootlicker to the Barbanovs, seeking only to sweep their scandal beneath the proverbial rug.    

I suppose you could be referring to Lord Johann Ludovar, though still the corpse of his wife has yet to turn up, and he has entertained the affections of many a lady in the years since her passing. Among them was the disgraced Lady Vasilia! Courting Lord Johann seems to have driven her insane, as she once lied with an Orenian peasant much to the dismay of her House. One cannot blame her for her lunacy, for it was Lord Ludovar who so shattered her heart and mind, setting her aside mere days after the Cardinal exposed his lustful advances toward Lady Baruch. 

Perhaps, scholar, it is not I who seeks power, but you. You, who seeks to sterilise the image of our nobility, to put them above critique. But, unlike you, I shall not assume the motive behind your words. Instead, I shall leave you with a simple message;  

My truths are mine to tell.

CONTENDERS IN COURTSHIP

~

It would seem this author was correct once more. The prelude to this Lifstala provided ample insight into the hearts and minds of our young Lords and Ladies! It took this author quite some time to piece together the tidbits my birdies whispered into my ears, but now, it is time I reveal my work to the people of the Dual-Kingdom. Of course, I shall start with our beloved Barbanovs. Princess Klara Elizaveta, who you may remember as the unhinged lunatic that maimed the poor Baron von Sigradz, has, unsurprisingly, failed to find herself a worthy match. Such is shocking for a girl of such prestigious blood. She has been seen spending quite a bit of time with one Sibylla Barclay, more than any boy, this author would add. Perhaps she finds herself drawn to the fairer sex? Though her brother, the future King, lacks a proper engagement as well. His only suitor thus far has been the Lady Angelika vas Ruthern, though this author doubts the seriousness of this pairing. One must wonder if perhaps Prince Karl Sigmar is keeping her in his back pocket, perhaps a second choice should he not find a more fitting Queen. Surely this must be the case, for her temper and spiteful nature is unbefitting of such a high station. Perhaps she knows this, and that is why she seems to have fled Karosgrad as of late. The other Barbanov, Prince Sergei Aleksandr, has found quite a bit of success when it comes to the ladies of this Kingdom. Kisses abound for this Prince, though he seems to have fallen for the temptress that is Lady Aloisa Barclay. How romantic, young love! This author hopes they express their undying devotion in Lifstala, lest it is not meant to be. And finally, one must not forget the rotund Princess Maya, who has become so large that she can hardly walk a few steps without doubling over. What an impeccable family they are!

Though, where would we be without our ducal houses and their impertinent spawn? The young Lord Maric boasts of his conquests, stealing kisses and virtue from many ladies throughout the Kingdom. So known are his exploits that a performance is to be dedicated to them! It is a wonder any lady tolerates his presence still, and this author prays our Lord Palatine will not allow his heir’s heart to be further trampled upon. As they say, the apple does not fall far from the tree, and it would seem Maric is no exception to this. His father was overheard beating the poor boy after his mentioning of a certain resident harlot, who surely performs more work in the palace than she would admit. Furthermore the future heir to Vidaus, Mikhail var Ruthern, seems to carry on his family’s legacy of madness. His own peers tell tales of his misdeeds in the quarters of the wards. It seems to this author that the troublesome boy wishes nothing more than to bring strife and harm upon others. Even now, the courts whisper that he has struck a young girl… Truly despicable. One wonders what his parents have done to produce such a child.

The so-called Princely Graces of House Barclay fare no better than their Ruthern counterparts. Their boyish daughter Sibylla, a favourite of the Grand Princess, has been disciplined publicly for her idiocy on numerous occasions, bringing much shame to her family. It was she who foolishly set out to the city of Phillip Jr. multiple times and was thus outed as the daughter of our Lord Marshal. This daughter of our most esteemed peerage consorts with titled Imperials, seeking to court them despite their crimes against our people, for only lowborns and ne’er-do-wells in her homeland would dare seek her hand. Though, this author cannot blame the young Lady. Perhaps it will do her well to wed into a nation who does not know of her childish outbursts and unladylike demeanour. 

DELUSIONS OF GRANDEUR

~

How absurd is it that any one woman could assume to claim the concept of equal inheritance as her own? My birdies say that one Lady Erika Barclay has been spouting something of the sort, further attesting to the rumours of her being kicked in the head by a mule as a child. How else could one be as ridiculous as she, to think that she pioneered this movement, for when in fact it began in the Orenian city-state? One cannot claim to have dreamt up an idea that has existed for quite some time, Lady Barclay. 

This writer is dumbfounded at the vanity of this young Lady, who demanded that the bill be named in her honour, and accredited only in her name! Rather than being modest and allowing the proposition to be titled in the name of our most esteemed Queen, she threw a hissy-fit! And now, she goes so far as to beg for induction into the order of Queen Maya and the Lily! Simply outrageous.

This author presumes my readers would not be surprised to know the Lady Erika to be a boor as well. Supposedly at a sleepover between the wards, she proudly stated that “women f***, women p***, women s***, and women fight!” to a table of mere children! How does she expect to entertain suitors during Lifstala with the mouth of a sailor? And this is to be the future of our generation, serving as an Alderwoman? Pah! She shames the Duma with her presence. 

My break may have been long, dear readers, but believe me when I say this is just a scratch upon the surface of the Nikirala Courts. With much anticipation comes a greater surprise and with your eyes and ears, the hearsay will blossom like the Haeseni rose; delicate and complex, yet riddled with thorns. For now, I will anticipate deliveries from my little birdies as scandal awaits us.

Ink put onto parchment, where the hands shakily dismantle the deception in our court. As with previous editions, my address is afforded.

[OOC: Discord HearsayOfHaense#1132]

“A REVISITATION - ROZIK I VE KORTZ”

And so it continues.

The Hearsay of Hanseti-Ruska

Edition IX

Jula ag Piov, 409 ES

It seems an acknowledgement is owed, dearest readers, for without you then our words would fall upon deaf ears. One must give thanks to my birdies who whisper the depravities of our most beloved court and, of course, to our most decadent generation for their continued indecencies. 

My, I have so much more to write!

THE BROTHERLY BETRAYALS

~

The Kortreviches parrot the phrase “With Duty Comes Honour”, yet are so oft seen squabbling amongst themselves. The sore and bitter Kortreviches, feuding brothers, a house in ruin. That once-great family, clutching on to spluttering embers where once they burned brightly, choking on their rising smoke. 

Lord Vladrik, the reclusive Count of Jerovitz by birth alone, has been so absent from his duties that his brother, Nikolai Kortrevich, believes himself to be more than capable to take the mantle. His arrogant proclamation for a duel might have shocked many -- but not I. I, dear reader, have observed the fissures and cracks in the Kortrevich’s relations widen for some time now. Vladrik has not issued a public response, but it would be unwise to assume no statement is good news. From the Pontiff, however, cries the peelings of annulment, as the Count’s marriage falls to pieces. Tch, tch. In the end it is the tale of a man stifled by laziness, unversed in the duties of being Patriarch and woefully unprepared; that shall be his rather underwhelming legacy. 

However, it was the prior Countess, Margot Baruch, who was caught in fond, fond embrace… with none other than the infamous lecher Johann Ludovar; the widower turned bachelor! Now, I shall not insult our readers’ intelligence in assuming they are not aware of the Ludovar’s transgressions, regarding his brother’s betrothed, Lady Vasilia. Fortunately for the Lady Baruch, he has shattered Lady Vasilia’s heart with a public breakup! Ah! So the plot thickens. Spotted mere hours before her annulment was publicly published with the man, Lady Baruch evidently mourns those years she threw away to the Kortrevich, and is intent on kicking back more flirtatious than ever to seduce her next husband.

But here! Nikolai is not without scandal himself, befitting the self-serving profile the man tries to obscure through honeyed words and insults dashed against his elder brother. With his upcoming marriage to the little-known Helvets, perhaps it shines hope that he will prove to truly be the better brother -- why! In the end, it should not prove an arduous challenge.

 A ROYAL BLUNDER

~

Misfortune has a knack of biting at your heels, dear Prince Andrik, and subsequently finds itself into the ears of my birdies; for you have managed the most scandalous tale of our generation so far. Pining for a married woman, are you? Poor form, I say! This writer would beg for a statement, though your dissolved marriage speaks for itself. For what else is a woman to do, when she had constrained herself to the confines of her room -- changing the locks, and making her aversion to the Prince’s company abundantly clear? This dissolution comes with little shock at all, as the fresh stench of rising guilt permeated in his every step.

Or was that when Lady Nikoleta burned her former husband’s possessions? The tale simply writes itself!

Alas, I wish not to dally and dance about the truth. No, no. This author has been informed since the last I have taken up a quill, and I have sworn to provide my insight; my evidence to you. A heart-grabbing letter found itself to my birdies, matching the hand of our Andrik with precision. I provide the contents of this proclamation of extramarital love for all to read, so that you too might understand just how smitten our Prince had become with his Savoyard temptress:

“I try to sneak out of Haense to visit you as often as I can, but sometimes it isn't possible, my dear. Nikoleta has been informed of our meetups […] but I cannot control the emotions I have for you -- the ones I’ve felt since we first met. Visit me soon so we may speak of ‘diplomacy’. With Dearest Love, Andrik Nikolas”

Despite this most damning of evidence and her own claims of seeing the two in tender embrace, the former Princess Nikoleta has seen fit to simply deny any adultery ever happened! Why? Who knows. Certainly not this author, though one can only assume when no explanation is given. All this writer knows is that I tire of this nonsensical scandal. It is clear to see why Prince Andrik would as well grow weary of his meddling wife, abandoning all tact in favour of a more direct approach to solving the matter, hence the grounds of their dissolution: endangerment. 

Whatever truly transpired we cannot know. Regardless, this little blunder of Prince Andrik is quite the stain on our most noble House of Barbanov, and one which Prince Andrik seems content to leave to his brother to mop up. 

SEARCHING FOR A STRUMPET

~

Are you a woman of renown? Of grace and humility? Or perhaps GOD has blessed you not with wit or a mind of your own, but with a most pleasing face and a waist which needs no cinching! A strapping new man is on the market, and one of ducal stock at that. The brother of Duke Rhys var Ruthern, Boris var Ruthern, is seeking the hand of a lady in marriage. He may not be a conversationalist, as His Grace pointed out, though with such striking choices in facial hair, one can only assume him to be similarly bold in other matters. A fine catch!

CATASTROPHES IN CHILDCARE

~

It would seem that the art of parenting is as good as dead in the Motherland! One should all but expect the children of the peasantry to reflect the boorish and utterly unrefined nature of their parentage, but those of the peerage have long been of a more graceful, refined breed. Of course, their privilege of endless coffers and their fleets of hapless governesses and tutors are to thank for this, but it seems even their children have fallen prey to the hysteria of the age. Foolish play and violent antics reign supreme amongst the youth, who engage in mock wars and stab each other in the streets. And this writer has yet to see a single parent lift a finger to put an end to it. 

One must only look as far as the dearest Princess Klara Elizaveta, the once innocent and radiant firstborn of our Royal Couple, to see how inept the parents of our lands have become. What strange times are these when the daughters of Kings shall surely struggle to find any willing suitors? What man would pledge his son to a girl so deranged and spoiled that she freely and remorselessly mutilates her fellow children, as she did to the poor little Baron Barclay? Another example may be seen in the Lady Aloisa Barclay, who, at the age of barely nine years, boasts of her promiscuity and kisses every boy she can lay her filthy mitts on! It should be noted that one name on her ever growing lists of conquests is the young Prince Sergei Aleksandr! This writer wonders what in GOD’s name our esteemed peerage is teaching their children for them to act in such brattish ways! 

Despite the shortcomings of their harlot-to-be, the Duke and Duchess of Reinmar seem to have some sense in their fat “Princely,” heads. After their son was maimed by the Princess, the Ducal couple descended on our Queen and gave her a right thrashing! With no King to defend her, she quickly caved to their demands and ushered them to Her Majesty’s private office, where this writer has heard a most interesting deal took place. The two troubled girls, Princess Klara and Lady Aloisa, are to be shipped off to Savoy so that they may be reeducated by a Cardinal. Is this a rare case of parental competence? Or perhaps the two matriarchs seek only to salvage the public appearances of their daughters? A bad omen for their houses, indeed.

A court I so admired in my youth has fallen so far, I now see it for how it is. Our esteemed peerage that we hold so highly are naught more than the brutish savages they hold in such contempt, and their ladies alike lack any semblance of dignity or morality. The whispers of my birdies certainly reveal at least that much. 

This author awaits one of virtue to reveal herself. Perhaps we might find her at the coming Snowflake ball. There is no doubt that that shall be a series of calamities, and my pen will be scribbling throughout.

Pen hovers above parchment once more, spilling secrets in blood ink, splattering sins in dark splotches. As always, send me a bird.

[OOC: Discord HearsayOfHaense#1132]

“A REVISITATION - ROZIK I VE KORTZ”

And so it begins.

The Hearsay of Hanseti-Ruska

Edition VIII

Gronna ag Droba

Once again, I dip my quill into the dark ink of scandal -- that staining substance one can never quite wash out, no matter how hard they scrub. It is my sole duty to enlighten you, dear reader, as whispers and murmurings fracture the Courts of Hanseti-Ruska; to tell you my truth as I see it, and leave you to pick up the pieces. 

Oh… I have been gone far too long.

A UNION GONE SOUR

~

While Lady Anya Ludovar may be dead, the gossip encompassing her scandalous relationship remains alive and squirming. Rumours have the unfortunate tendency to spread, you see… the latest being murmurings of the oh-so-pious Lady’s infidelity. How chaste! How fitting. Her counterpart Lord Johann retreats to his quarters, pale and withdrawn -- powdering and dabbing tears to frame the theatrics of grief. Ah! Driven to death by her husband, was she? A fissured match, doomed to splinter and break. But this author will not entertain such obvious assumptions, no. Instead, this Ludovar duo strikes conflict of opinion and favour -- and oh, do I love a little ambiguity. 

Lord Johann, the perfect picture of mourning, has yet to host a funeral for his late wife. At court, the newly-single bachelor already seeks the company of other women. One can hardly blame him in that sphere; as the absence of a consort creates ripples of instability within his house. But who will take the wallowing widower? Little birdies have been whispering, dear Johann. Can you hear them? No corpse was found at the scene -- only the fresh stink of fear remained. And so the plot thickens. An adulterer Lady Anya may have been, but seldom is such a sin committed without reason. It is known that divorce is hardly granted even in the face of adultery. Why is it that a woman would remove herself willingly from the comforts of a noble life, from her jewels, her family, and her warm bed in the keep of her husband? This writer does not doubt there is something more to be uncovered here; an ugly stain, marked upon a person. 

For bodies do not simply vanish, unless they are hidden. 
 

BLESSED ARE THE BARBANOVS

~

Mama! Mama! The monster of the palace is loose! Hide your children, lock your doors, for the cursed Elizaveta Ulyana has vanished. Some might claim the child’s fate was predetermined from the moment of her twisted birth. A one-eyed monster, come to steal you away -- truly the figure of fairy tales. Her absence has been pinned on the Godless so-called “Empire” of Oren, but one cannot ignore the negligence of her parents in the matter. What mother allows her child, one of royal blood no less, to wander about without any supervision whatsoever? Perhaps the Duchess Henrietta, herself of treacherous blood, is merely a puppet of her Orenian masters seeking to sow chaos in the motherland? Or, could this disappearance be a hoax, a staged excuse to be rid of a stain on her family?

Nonetheless, the little beast is surely dead. Locks of her hair were found in the ruins of Dobrov, which, one should not forget, is a vassal to the corrupt Empire. Let this be a cautionary tale to any who let their children run wild. 
 

THE PRINCE AND THE PILLOCK

~

An unfaithful Prince? How unheard of! The wedding of the Lady Regent of Savoy devolved into quite the scandalous affair when a group of Haeseni nobles called into question her fidelity. At the behest of Princess Nikoleta Barbara, the Duchess of Reinmar Lady Georgina Barclay exposed the Basrid harlot’s affair with Prince Andrik Nikolas. Rumour has it that the Haeseni presented a letter from the Princess accusing His Royal Highness of openly sharing a kiss with the Regent -- one can only imagine what the pair do behind closed doors. Fortunately I, dear reader, am here to fling them wide open! The groom, Severinus Basrid-Gradic, rather than defend his honour against the man who allegedly defiled his wife, saw fit to offer Prince Andrik a drink in an astounding display of cuckoldry! Though, what does one expect of a man who takes the name of his wife?

Thank GOD Savoy has been left in such pious hands while the Prince is on pilgrimage.

To some, Princess Nikoleta is nothing more than a bitter housewife, desperate to spice up her otherwise bland life that her husband could not give her. But to diminish her own noble status, flinging unwarranted accusations? No. This author thinks not. This writer wonders how long we must continue to wait until we receive an official statement from the courts; for Prince Andrik is the brother of King Sigismund III himself. Does His Majesty know more than he lets on? Of course, such brotherly comradery and a tight-lipped response from the Royals has not been unheard of in the past. It practically calls into question the King’s fidelity himself! After all, the familiar figure of Sanja Kutznetsov still slinks about the palace…

While the actions of the Regent and Prince Andrik are no doubt despicable, the women who were so crass as to barge into the wedding ceremony; wearing their bridal gowns, no less, should be ridden with shame. Duchess Georgina Barclay who announced the scandal and hurled a number of vulgar insults at the Lady Regent, continues to prove herself an embarrassment to the House she represents. Her husband, the commanding Lord Marshal, would do well to muzzle her, lest she continue to drag his name through the dirt. Or can even he not contain her?
 

HALF-PINT HORROR

~

Alas, there is another monster on the loose. This one is perhaps more sinister. Bodies - mangled corpses - are appearing in large numbers, found in the burrows of the Halfling village of Honeyhill. Whispers have started… and of course, this writer’s ears picked them up. Talk of a serial killer stalking our very streets, wearing a dark cloak and boots, brandishing all sorts of weapons. He is said to be disarmingly handsome -- and there is a man, recently returned to town, who matches this description -- Frederik Baruch. 

Insanity in his household is not unheard of, for it was Petyr ‘the Beater’ that attempted to slaughter his own son in uncontrolled rage. Let us not forget that he also beat his wife into an early grave! It would seem mania runs in Baruch blood, as our former Lord Palatine, Kaustantin, has completely lost the plot! His ramblings make little sense to those that speak with him, and his demeanor as of late can be described as frantic, at best.

To the Lady Regent of Savoy, I would watch your back closely. Should I be in your position, for such a scandal may prove reason enough for those pesky de Savoies to make another attempt on your beloved Princedom. Alas, an innocent woman has no reason to hide. 

Will you denounce these rumors?

I attach means of contact. Send in juicy tidbits, criticism, or praise, for my hands are itching to write again.

[OOC: Discord HearsayOfHaense#1132]

The Hearsay of Hanseti-Ruska

Edition IV

Gronna ag Droba, 365 ES

In light of that God awful ‘Quandary of Amador’ scribbling, the Hearsay must appease the minds of Hanseti-Ruska. That laughable scorn is only credible to one sentence of this writer, so we shall leave it there. I must announce, two inklings are to be left below, as to make amends for the characterless weeping of that publishing. This hearsay will always put their readers first, and not the personal opinions of its own inclination. 

The stenched priest does share in that department of service. But wrong, did the snout of the Crestfallen soldier unearth. 

The one who lays bare to the Hearsay, is blessed by a blossoming mind. Bearing cloak-and-dagger in the springtime of life.

Matyas the Mad Manlover

~

Not many these days can say they have fought in a war, Matyas Baruch however seems to still be on the frontlines of a past one, the Scyfling war. Often, he can be seen boxing the air, or squawking as he relives through that terrible past - although, one might confuse his incoherent yawping as the sickly Baruch accent. With the death of his wife causing heartache, and the burden of a war, the latter seems to be playing on his mind more so than ever. And what does a person do when anxiety overbears them? They weather the storm, or find another way to quell their afflicted mind. Matyas Baruch, lacks that strength of character, and is now conquering the bedrooms of other - war burdened men - the ostentatious veteran enjoys wailing, as much as he does squealing in the bedroom. It does not surprise me actually, seeing as his wife was flawed in the way of having no flaws at all - save for lacking those compelling and loveable eccentricities an interesting marriage must have.

The standings of Baruch otherwise, are admirable, if not remarkable. Seeing as the worthiness of the Duchy, at one point in the recent past, was sneered upon -- in dispute. Now the stately and senior men have displayed their mettle. With that said, the succession of the family has been deeply scrutinized by the Hearsay. We are without doubt, that the crazed head has distorted and perverted the minds of the first two in line. Thus, he pushed them aside for the fateful and last boy. Petyr Baruch and Otto Baruch, while boisterous and spirited in open are burying those same demented traits as their plagued father. Consult this edition in the future, I guarantee the pair have landed themselves in some form of scandal; that is if they are not already veiling some.

Ruslan dear, stray not, from your family. But do allow the barks of your father to fall deaf on your ears, lest you will suffer the same fate as your brothers and the man himself. Your mind is bright, so sage some proper council; rid the disease, early and ahead of time.

Taking the Edge Off

~

Seems the not so ladylike women of Hanseti-Ruska, have lost the only worthy facet about them -- that being their ability to remain bewitching and charming upon the unfortunate men of Karosgrad. Since this Author has published three editions of this trustworthy column, a certain, desperate for, drug-filled companionship has ariven onto the empty-headed scene that is the frolicsome inner circle of women. While the pockets of the chapman bloat, the insecurities of the noble women peak as the culmination of their underhand secrets come to light -- and so they turn to snuffing loathly white power, floating away from their dishonest reality. These women range anywhere from from the likes of Rosalind Amador, who can often be seen neglecting her own children as they go off to find parentage elsewhere. Then to the newly seated Baroness, Tarathiel Asul’onn, now otherwise known as Tara Elreden, who has become fodder to the unrelenting - but righteous people of Haense. Time will only tell when the real truth revolving the elevated Elf and Koeng will come to light.. 

Although, this writer hates keeping their zealot viewers dallying about, so the next edition might just assuage that thirst.

Amador in Bloom

~

The claimant nobles of Hanseti-Ruska are ripe in their drama, but none can compare to that of House Amador; their house bastardised by peasant marriages and a bullying Koenas to add to the flavor. However, would it not be peculiar to see a flower bloom in one sack of stenching corpses? Surprise, surprise! I am happy to see that Lady Amalya has found one eager individual to court, but is that not a peculiar thing? She has found herself in the hands of one charming knight dubbed Ser Oliver. Oh, how I feel for his aching heart, for her beauty is but the highest in the Kingdom, even more so than the Koenas. Though, it surprises me. . . for does not the Lady Amalya spread her charms to the Koeng, meeting with him at night in secret? Was it not her that took hands with the Koeng and danced with our majesty before her Koenas? I wonder if the Koeng has affections for someone else, fret not however as anyone would pick a blooming flower over a colorless pallet.

Of course, I am quite proud of Lady Amalya. She has found herself both a dazzling knight and a Koeng to play frolic.. And what does marriage do when one invites it? It breaches the chains of freedom, one shackling the beguiling Amalya away from her scoundrel patriarch, one unable to even find love. Her ribald image is saved, for it was previously lost in the cesspool of egregious, malicious nobles. In foresight of this, this Author pines that the Amador seeks a happy end with the Ser - but the imperiousness of the man glares too brightly, to keep my hopes heavenward.

Either him, or Somebody Else

~

The audacious women who bear and send letters to this Author, are in fact, not as far-sighted as they claim themselves to be. Godan however, reigned the bright skies and cast his shaft of righteous light upon a particular escapade -- involving that of the Prince, Franz Barbanov, and Rosalind Amador. On the date of 365 ES, our wonderful Patriarch, Alfred Barclay held a most popular mass, bringing many closer to the arms of God himself. Despite it all, Rosalind Amador, is the furthest thing from a woman of our Lord. Taking to unpleasantries rather than the spreading of heartfelt love amongst her Haeseni peers. And in her vile sights, was the troubled and disconcerted Prince; an easy target of her foul tongue. See, my dearest viewers, I was there myself. So I know these letters to be spreading half-lies, which typically leads any viewing eyes to believe it as the full truth; a favoured tactic of manipulation.

Do not lie to me. In any sense. Leaving your letters to be anonymous are the first tell signs. You are not smart, no matter how much you convince yourself to be. Take a hard long look at yourself in any mirror, you will soon realise your shortcomings.

The Grand Lady accosted the Prince, but not about the man himself, but his own children and kin. Berating all that the man had brought up, digging her unkempt, addiction-ridden nails deep into the strings that connect his heart. How can you claim a child to be a *****, Rosalind? You are either simple- no, you are not. Some brightness does hold up inside you, somewhere. Therefore, this writer claims you to be entirely malicious and purposeful in your castigation. You expected the Prince to rise, especially in the crowd of many, preparing your rouge cheek for a battering. He did exactly that. And what for? To appease that hollowness in your chest. Yearning for any crumbs of attention. It was bound to happen eventually, so my heart warms, knowing it was the Prince - he will suffer less of a punishment, and rightfully so. 

Make merriment at this coming ball, but do not lose sight of this fact; my eyes are ever present, the likes of your own nearest and dearest, they are naught but turncoats.

The Hearsay of Hanseti-Ruska

Edition III

Tov ag Yermey, 364 ES

This author has much to reveal, as always. I fear you set your sights solely upon me, but in actuality, there are three. How can you expect one person to harness so much hearsay? There is me, the writer. The Observer of all. And one - in the midst of you all, the gossiper. They have been planted deep within the ranks of frivolous women of self import.

In this edition, to quench curious minds, I tell you this:

I used to be of great import, but as the tides crashed. I set off into them.

Mondblume into the Tomb

d’Arielle and Draghicescu Keel to Tainted Steel 

~

Today we feature three common families on the verge of noble bestowment. Each with their own faults, but in recent times, their efforts of striving for elevation have brought these grave flaws to light. Mondblume with their change of patriarch and knighting of Hildebrand, were stronger than ever, even their numbers strengthened. However, this author has come to observe that numbers merit nothing on their own accord - and the Mondblume known to be Ida, merits only hardship upon her patriarch. Deformed was her back, as the Koeng ordered that she be whipped after grievously insulting the honour of His Majesty. No homage was paid, and even after the fact, she pouted and slithered away. Such lack of intelligence is an insult to my ears, she ought to go away to the nunnery! It is pitiful, how one individual can bring such disgrace on her own family. To make matters worse, she fled to Providence, and in doing so - her family gave chase. Foolishly, Ser Mondlume and many doting soldiers clambered to the Imperial Palace, making a mockery of the Kingdom itself. They have been thwarted and for good reason, strike them from the list.

Lastly, the common house of Draghicescu and.. d’Arielle seem to be enshrouding a most well-hidden secret. My ears and eyes have nearly unravelled it, so I swear. Hearsay spreads to the deepest holes in this city, and these families were caught in the act of hiring mercenaries. Is the HRA not sufficient? Are you scared? Are you hiding something? My oh my, this can of worms has been opened, and your sooty secrets will soon come to light. Draghicescu. Psch. They never really stood a chance anyway. 

The Koenas’ Kindergarten

~

We all know our beloved Koenas of Hanseti-Ruska would rather be, at the side of Stefan Vyronov, or with a sword planted between her clammy palms. This time, she was found amidst her posse of plain Janes, at the center of Karosgrad square. Camilla Ruthern and Katerina Barbanov. Now - I do strive for gossip, but I will not condone bullying. Amalya Amador was too, accompanying this nepotistic trio, when a flower vendor came with his wares. The heartless trio sought after the vendor, and sighed ever so deep - why should we ever stoop to the level of such a common man? Their thoughts were evident, by the smacked look on their faces. But the sweet little Amador, despite the wishes of the other three, purchased an array of flowers! A true patron of the people and patriot of Haense, supporting the economy and its smaller businesses.

The Amador extended one of the flowers to that of the wailing princess, a sunflower - how sweet. Yet, such an innocent act must be reprimanded by the babbling intimidators. It saddens me to write this, but as the princess was pulled aside by the Koenas, they did not act tactfully; I doubt they are even capable of such. Instead, a snicker erupted from the lips of the monotonous Camilla Ruthern, and Katerina bounded forth and smacked the Amador across the face! Mayhaps, if the Koenas spent her time contemplating events and not exploiting the frail minds of her knit group, the Kingdom would be in better standings. Some tools can simply not be sharpened, and some swords forever without a point.

Now, with the Amador excluded and shamefaced. The Koenas herded the other two like sheep into the palace, afraid of retaliation. At least grow a backbone, if you desire so dearly to be alike Viktoria, the Warrior-Koenas.

Bullies. Tut-tut.

The Knight nobody knew

And the Crestfallen Officer

~
A sense of urgency befalls me at every glance of that downtrodden Lieutenant, Jackson Porter. A man with his sight set on the stars, but with both of his worn boots, stuck in the mud. Both him and the knight, Ser Aleksandr, share one thing in common. Her Majesty, Isabel of Valwyck - who is mentioned so much in this hearsay, I must jot a nickname down for her. Mrs Promiscuity shall suffice for now. So, Mrs Promiscuity has both of these hapless boys chasing her tail. It surprises me how the duo have not yet tripped, especially with those hearts of love and dinging bells in their bagged eyes. Yet, I must be the one to tell them this - she doesn't love you dear, nor will she ever. The only thing she yearns for is the attention of it all! 
 

In writing this, this author pleads with the single ladies of Hanseti-Ruska. They deserve better, and if I see the Lieutenant donning that headband while looking so desolatelty grief-stricken for a second longer, I might just off myself before he does. Ser Aleksandr in contrast, he shows to work and that is about all - but I spy all, so I know this to not be entirely true. This cryptic figure is the easiest puzzle of them all, a lonely man, berated by the low elevation of his nobility.  Forever without a lover, for that old hag of a parent cares more for status than the happiness of his son. A tear might have just stained this paper, if not for the optimism I hold in the man.

 

Baby Steps - Fresh in From the Reader

~

Your very own men and women are turning on each other, and there is nothing more this writer loves more than bad blood. But do not act in dubiety, the Hearsay of Hanseti-Ruska always finds out the truth first and foremost.

The Viscount of Amador, even though it was likely not by his own juvenile choice, has had the engagement of his wedding called off. No longer will he be marrying into that of a peasant family - hurrah! However, the clock ticks for the patriarch now, the Koeng has ordered that he has two years to find a bride of noble birth, lest he wishes to be married off by His Majesty, himself. Let us all clasp our hands together, and pray that he finds a woman so dopey enough as to marry the young Amador. Remember, you can bring a bride to the altar, but one can not promise to be so faithful to such a clodpole - best wishes, Amador. Perhaps this will sprout another succession crisis, as we all know, fools breed fools.

Just in- a reader who wishes to remain anonymous reports this. Now, I knew this all along, but with such lack of substantiation I did not wish to scribe such a story. Having said that, with women of Her Majesty’s very own council lettering me on such. I am afraid that the princess, Katerina Barbanov and the Raevir, Camilla Ruthern have been spending their fair share of nights together. This will finally make sense to some, and I quote from the reader ‘the reason the princess does not wish to get married, is because of her ever growing friendship’. In reporting this, I dearly expect them to make one’s appearance in the confession booth, so they can repent before it is all too late.

The Hearsay of Hanseti-Ruska

Edition II

Msitza and Dargund, 363 ES

Dearest Madame de Potins, the hearsay of Providence is either as dry as the old lands of Korvassa, or your writings are few and thin because you are as much of a dolt, you claim your easy prey to be. I do hope some worthy contenders come to rise.

Watching from the Closet

~

Lo and behold, for those who know it, the bone-idle knight known as Ser Fiske has landed himself in quite the conundrum. Many speculate, and or know first hand that his marriage with the princess Juliya Barbanov is closer to miscarriage than it is perfection. For years, I have pondered this myself, wondering what exactly has been rooted inbetwixt their relationship - watching an abandoned Juliya, sit at the center of Karosgrad in her lonesome. Then, our previously mentioned bachelor, Ser Aleksandr emerged from the gallant gates of the city and marched forth to the damsel. Shining as a knight should. I will not go into further detail about what happened between the pair, as they garner respect - however, Ser Fiske, does not.

Ser Fiske was tasked with the duties of a lord in raising a family, yet the words on many a lip is that he can sooner be found in the arms of a priest than his own wife. This writer can only feel true sorrow for that of Princess Juliya who has married a monk rather than a man. Perhaps there might be a more dashing spectre that soon haunts the viscounty of Marna, unless the Princess Juliya prefers the company of cats and dogs in that pet-store she runs for her husband. 

Curse of the name

~

It is a common fact that the name Franz serves truly no purpose, save for the suffering of the afflicted individual. From the first day they leave the warmth of the womb, and the last day, in which they are bitterly put to death. They live an almost star-crossed life. With ups, but mainly downs. In saying that, the beloved Prince, Franz Barbanov and maer of the city, has seemingly lived a life of downs. One cannot deny the affection he held for his wife, but as the cursed bearer knows, such niceties always come to an end. Now, as his wife leaves him in absence, he opts to not drown his sorrows in drink - but in the company of women. 

First, came the ever so bountiful foreign import - Vespira d’Emyth, a duckling lost in the pond of her own marriage. But we shall speak more of her later..

Aside that, the duckling is always left to be last - or to die. But Franz Barbanov, winner of the people, is also the winner of venerable and Orenian hearts, one of those being Wilhelmina Beatrix. I say she only strays from the nest to sit beside him, in the royal box. That is known to most, however, I know as a fact that the to-be-Empress ventures into the Haeseni palace when the dark of night covers her duplicity.

I do hope a good fate befalls the prince, though it seems unlikely.. In fact, he should count himself to be lucky, at least he is not the babbling princess of the previous edition. 

Fresh in - Infidelity is a virtue!

~

The former Grand Champion of Karosgrad, champions in many things, and alike his peer and cousin Franz Barbanov - women, they do share in common. While rumour is only speculated revolving the prince, many know the Ser to be an afamed womanizer. Who knows what kids seed from the fruitful Paramount? A stray, pitch haired ruffian is amidst your family? You ought to have words. Many know about his presence - or lack thereof - especially in his youth, when the teen caught the early carriage to Providence at each morn. From there, he suckled love from only women of the Imperial sort. A known one, is to be the Vespira d’Emyth, as she was previously named. It strikes me clueless, as to why she would ever marry such a man, especially with such an apparent lackluster character.

I do not condone his cheating, but Vespira was hardly anything special. The ladies of the court whispered ongoingly during her short stays in the palace, but drawing blood from a stone is famously impossible. So nothing of import was gossiped, as there was simply nothing to report on the dullard. Alric suffered no such fate however, rolling freely from the lips of the courtiers and the likes of the women, whom he had previously seen. Perhaps a comment upon the division between the views upon the love life of men over women is apt here. 

The only reason we now know about her disappearance was due to the ever-present marriage between Ser Alric and another import. Delphine, can you keep him on a leash? As good as a sloppy pair of second hands can. We all know this reader does not tune into the hearsay for knowledge of common - but for insider information. Joanne of Selm, bastard to the General of Oren, bears a child from the Ruthern himself. Mariel Barrow dear, you might be too juvenile to read this now, but you have my deepest sorrows and wishes - with such awful parents, you need it.

Valued at Half of a Breath

~

Truth be told, my reader, the pot of ink at my nearside dwindles, and the Amador lord will not justify a refilling of such. He is indeed betrothed to a peasant woman, scandalous, but what else do you expect from somebody without a soul or shred of personality? Oh, save of course from when he is antagonizing reckless Kovachevs to their untimely demise.

As much as he lectures the women of his house, the brain beneath his mop of greasy and red hair falters. Failing to recognize that entire stagnancy, is not the fault of the oil that greases it, but the machine itself - the lord. Despite his glaring appearance, the youth holds no presence in court. And truth be told, I am not exactly opposed to it.

Oh - and he confides in Elves.

And, if it brings any ease to the mind of the nymphomaniac Rosalind Amador and her position as Grand Lady. She will be more of a man, than he ever will be. Low, do her shoulders plummet, as she carries the weight of Amador on her back.

Now reader, I hear it all. My ears extend even through the most intimate of crimsoned walls, my observations are keen. And that is all I have to say in this edition, please do not suffer the same fate as sheep. You know your truths, and I know mine.

For those wishing to contact me, I shall leave my letter address for all. Provide hearsay, or critique - but I will find out the entire truth.

[OOC: Discord - HearsayOfHaense#1132]

The Hearsay of Hanseti-Ruska

Edition I

Tov and Yermey, 363 ES

Truly Liberated

~

Oho, they do say that prosperity breeds promiscuity. Happy breeds. The fine people of Karosgrad have been more than busy. At one end of the stick, Lady Rosalind who used to ***** more than a broad in a whorehouse, seems to be entirely in love with herself in times of recent. Glances are cast to and fro, from her mirror and to whatever else might be occupying her giddy mind. Then, at the other end, Her Majesty, Isabel of Valwyck seems to alas, by dipping her toes into the pool of promiscuity. Often seen with Ser Aleksandr, and now at the frontside of Maric Ruthern as they promenade, it makes one wonder if she was ever loyal to the late Koeng. Oh - and do not forget about that officer in the HRA, who had been spotted with her on many occasions. A little too close for comfort, if you ask me.

Fresh from Greyspine

~

 The recently bestowed palatine of Hanseti-Ruska is really shining like a diamond in the rough. Ever since that old bat for a wife of his drank herself to an early grave, his gait carries like no other. Many have hopes that his time as Palatine shall flourish, but a smaller population of the Kingdom hope he will proffer his finger for a ring of matrimony. In saying that, might we hold a prayer - a prayer that a woman as dull as Marcella Barclay shall never be offered such a chance again. Whatever diversity the Aulic Council was counting upon, was decisively wrong, so please stray from such notions. In with logic and out with the status quo! Let us just be glad she retired sooner than later.

Til Vyronov do us Part

~

The halls of the basilica were piled for the wedding of His Majesty and Mariya Amador. Yet, as the numbers raised to a zenith, and the limelight was shone upon the young girl - we all know her mind was elsewhere. Lingering on that of Stefan Vyronov, so some speculate, for since their childhood they have been one in the same and joined at the hip. The Koeng can only hope she proves to be fruitful, as the tree that she pertains holds no particular glister. Now, the countless youthful ladies of Karosgrad gawk up at the Koenas, wishing it had been them at the dias instead. Nothing really makes her special, does it? And with the way her eyes hold no glint, she most definitely wishes it was somebody else as well, to be with that Vyronov.

A Damsel in Distress?

~

Her Highness, Katerina Barbanov has always been one to suckle on the marrow that is her noble status. So with news of her not wishing to marry, one can only wonder, is she doing this to lay ahold of any last slithers of power she might have? Or is it because the rowdy Princess has nobody in their right mind, that would wed the blaring Barbanov? Her debutante garnered less attention than that of an average tavern brawl, so personally speaking, I am drawn to the latter choice. Perhaps if the obtrusive Princess sought about mopping the snot away from her nose, one would desire her for marriage. Then again, it would be foolish to promise such things.