MapleSunflower

[!] This public collection has been published and archived in realms all over Aevos. The original copy has been stored within the Novellen Collection in Balian Another copy has been placed within the Canonist Church archives. A Thorough Recollection of History and Traditions of House Virosi by Lady Kathryn Atalia Virosi Veritas Dei Vincit “The Truth of GOD Conquers” 17th of Horen’s Calling 1994/127 BA My dear Brothers and Sisters in GOD. It has come to my attention that the House Virosi suffers from a significant lack of documentation of itself. Upon traveling to Aevos, it has been my goal to collect all documentation and transcribe it into a concise resource for all to view.I have accumulated all manner of information from across Aevos and Rhen to bring you this collection. Much has not survived, but it is with great joy that some knowledge will be making itself known to the public for the first time since the age of Ex. Godfrey. ✤ Sigils, Symbols, and Sayings ○ Colors ○ Crest ○ Flora ○ Motto Origins ○ Theorem ✤ Early History ○ Cecil Virosi ○ Fabian the Greater ○ Fabian the Lesser ○ Bartholomew Virosi ○ Godric Virosi/St. James II ✤ Post-Godric Era ○ Theon Virosi ○ Beatrice Virosi ✤ The Move to Rhen and Back ✧⥼─────────༻❁༺─────────⥽✧ The sigil of House Virosi consists of three main hues inspired by their associations with the cloth. These colors are: ○ Red represents the cloth worn by those who serve the Canonist Church. It also symbolizes the courage required to lead oneself and others in virtue. ○ White calls upon the belief in purity and devout faith, of which all Virosi’s are steadfast to follow. This color also represents the church. ○ Gold signifies the Lorraine Cross, another symbol of the faith. It also represents triumph against the trials of sin. ✧⥼──༻❁༺──⥽✧ Within our sigil is a story of servitude. Most Virosi members walk the path of scribes, priests, or both. Starting from the bottom up, the quill and the hand are placed in equal value of the other. The quill, representing the scribe, is made from a swan’s feather. The swan is a symbol of wisdom and grace. Those of House Virosi are educated well and carry themselves with grace when dealing with others. Swans also represent commitment, as they only take one life-long mate; Should they be widowed, they will never take another partner. Virosi members who decide to wed stay true to their partner and do not bear bastards. Some have taken an extreme stance to never remarry following the death of their spouse. Many within the line have even practiced celibacy, primarily those who have taken the cloth. The hand, representing the priest, is in the shape one makes upon blessing others. It is shaped as such to demonstrate service towards others. Those of House Virosi are expected to serve others regardless of their status as a canonist. This may be in the form of a priest, a scribe, a ward, a medic, or any other occupation that provides service. These settings may be both secular or sacred in nature. As we look higher, the stole of a priest’s vestment forms a V-shape down into one line, or a “Y” if you will. This pays homage to those who have taken vows to the church. Stoles typically do not unite at the end, as they are draped over opposite sides of the neck. It is fashioned like so because of the family’s belief to unify all under GOD. No matter what path one takes - be it scribe, priest, or another work - it all leads to the same thing: GOD. This unification can also represent the calm nature most Virosi’s possess that allow them to see eye-to-eye with those who have strayed from the light. However, this is not to be mistaken as forgiveness, but instead serves as a skill required to guide others. Finally, at the top is the Cross of Lorraine. By placing the Lorraine above all other sigils, it represents that GOD is above all else. We look up to Him as all good Canonists should. ✧⥼─────────༻❁༺─────────⥽✧ Lilacs in a Vase by Bartholomew Virosi c. 1671 Lilacs are oft associated with love, but depending on the color, their symbolism shifts. These fragrant flowers come in an array of shades between purple, magenta, blue, and white, each containing their own meaning. Those of the purple and white variety are greatly favored and have come to be known as the official flora of Virosi. This is because the purple variant represents spirituality, whilst the white symbolizes purity and innocence. Some traditions involving these flora include: ○ When a newborn Virosi is born, a sprig of white lilac is held over the baby’s head. It is an old wive’s tale, said to bring the gift of wisdom upon the child. ○ Young Virosi women may wear a lilac in their hair as a reminder of the traits they strive to be. ○ Upon one’s wedding day, magenta, white, and purple lilacs may be woven into a crown for the bride or groom. It may also be made into a bouquet for the bride or pinned to the chest of the groom. ○ At the funeral of a Virosi, the casket shall be filled with lilacs and be buried or cremated alongside the person. This is because lilacs have a strong floral scent and when burned emit a sweet aroma. ✧⥼──༻❁༺──⥽✧ Centaurea Cyanus by Kathryn Virosi c. 1990 Cornflowers represent delicacy, hope, and blessedness; Each trait a Virosi in history has displayed, and all others strive to achieve. They typically are found growing in cornfields, meadows, or cultivated in gardens. Their resilient nature allows them to thrive in different climates. Virosi’s are steadfast and strive to face the challenges they are met with wholeheartedly, no matter the difficulty. The color of cornflowers has come to represent their eyes, as most Virosi’s have a variance of the same hue. It may be a light, gentler tone or may be dark and vibrant, but it is a trademark of their lineage. Some traditions involving these flora include: ○ Upon a Virosi’s 21st name day, they wear a wreath made of cornflowers to celebrate their ascension into adulthood. This wreath must be gifted to them by a parental figure. ○ A cornflower must be visible on the guests of Virosi lineage when attending a wedding of another Virosi. This may be in the form of a corsage or boutonniere. ○ When an expectant mother gives birth, she is adorned with a crown of cornflowers made by the women in her life. These women do not have to be related by blood. Each flower must be picked by the woman and woven together in group-effort before being placed upon the mother’s head. ✧⥼─────────༻❁༺─────────⥽✧ Unfortunately, prior to Godric Virosi, there is no recording of a family motto. This is to be expected, as Virosi were merely a commoner lineage. However, within the writings of Godric, every missive is penned with “Veritas Dei Vincit,” meaning “The Truth of GOD conquers.” It is presumed that during his time as High Pontiff, the Virosi family began to take this as their family motto and has remained ever since. ✧⥼─────────༻❁༺─────────⥽✧ As written in a thesis by Acolyte Cyrus of Rudr called “A Thesis on the Concept of Hereditary Sin”, Cyrus explains the concept of Virosi sin. Here’s what he wrote: “Virosi sin (or simply the sin of man)dubbed as such due to its earliest official appearance in the “‘Catechism of the Canonist Church’ by the then-Cardinal Fabien the Lesser and promulgated by the then-High Pontiff Daniel VI. Virosi sin can be defined as; 'an individual person actively taking an action which constitutes or results in breach of the moral laws set forth by the Scroll of Virtue.'” The concept of Virosi sin is no stranger to this house, as they typically deal with atheists or reconverts who possess this sin. It is, naturally, difficult to tell a concise chronological story of one’s history when large chunks have slipped through the cracks of time and insignificance. Rather than focus upon the timeline of history and how it shaped them, this resource shall be focused upon the people who shaped the world we now live in. ✧⥼─────────༻❁༺─────────⥽✧ Cecil Virosi Cecil Virosi had served as Imperial Scribe to Ex. Godfrey in the Kingdom of Renatus. Cecil was of Heartlander stock, one of the proto-Illatian cultures which briefly waxed and vanished. His early life is obscure; given his literacy, he may have been trained in a cathedral or as a tax collector for a minor lord. He is first recorded in the service of Jack Amador, founder of House Amador and Duke of the Holy Lands. Within a year, he had been appointed to Imperial Scribe, a privy councilor to Ex. Godfrey. He was a prolific legal writer in these times, but no personal letters or records of conversation with him exist. It is known that he often traveled to the strongholds of the Teutonic Order, for he appears annually in their guest book as a personal visitor. This is the probable source of the family’s connections with the Highlander people. Late in his life, Cecil Virosi was present at the bodily ascent of Ex. Godfrey into the Seven Skies. This moment transformed the scribe, who converted to the Imperial Traditionalist heresy that worshiped the prophet as GOD’s incarnation. After this event, Cecil’s scrivenery was peppered with religious references. He eventually departed with Orian the Black’s court during the Exodus in 1420. Though he probably did not complete the voyage on account of his advanced age, his name survived as he had wed a Hansetian widow in Orian’s service and fathered a child with her. There are very few documents from the early centuries that survived to date. However, it is through reprinting by Archduke Edward Winters II that we have been able to preserve Cecil’s writing of a missive on Early Orenian manners. This collection, consisting of four volumes, titled “On the Nature of Nobility and the Success of Nations” allows us insight into the life of Orenians. This collection was in continued print until the end of Holy Orenian Emperor John VIII, as the manner of speaking had been lost and the courts had adjusted to a more modern verbiage. ✧⥼──༻❁༺──⥽✧ Fabian P. Virosi “Fabian the Greater” 40 years later, Fabian P. Virosi returned from Aeldin with Orian’s fleeing court and entered the service of the Archduke Herendul as a deacon and confessor. Fabian P. Virosi, who is now called “Fabian the Greater” to distinguish him from his nephew, then served as Adjudicator-General to the Conclave of Malin. He was selected for the Church’s regency council after the Franciscan Massacre in [year], and came to represent the shrinking Imperial Traditionalist cult his father had joined. He was also one of the founding members of the Society of St. Everard, a lay-fraternal order dedicated to the preservation, documentation, and education of human histories and cultures. Founded by King Edward von Herendul in 1485, they tasked themselves with preventing the loss of history following the fall of the Civay and Carrion regimes. During this time, book burnings, massacres of learned men and peoples, and the destruction of ancient relics resulted in great loss of knowledge. It is, unfortunately, unrecorded as to when Fabian the Greater passed. ✧⥼──༻❁༺──⥽✧ Fabian Virosi “Fabian the Lesser” c. 1570 Fabian the Greater apparently had a nephew, for after his death a “Fabian the Lesser” appears in Church records as a monsignor. He had abandoned his uncle and grandfather’s heresy, becoming a Canonist apologist and companion of High Pontiff St. Daniel the Great. He made several bids for the High Pontificate, but failed in favor of more zealous, less cloistered candidates. Among one of them was High Pontiff St. Sixtus IV of Felson, who won in 1567. Fabian devoted his entire life from youth to senescence to a single sacred task: the translation of the Holy Scrolls into the common tongue. He was likely the first person to lay eyes upon the original Holy Scrolls who was no of the office of High Pontiff or prophet, and spent many decades traveling across Terra to find extant translations from ages past. After 70 years of studious translation, Fabian died, leaving only the very final line of the Scroll of Auspice untouched. St. Daniel and Fabian were buried alongside each other as the two considered each other brothers. St. James II would beatify Fabian the Lesser after a miracle had occurred. The priest, who was ministering in Aeldin, found his parishioners unable to understand the Common he spoke or read from his copy of the Holy Scrolls. He prayed to Bl. Fabian for intercession and found that when he spoke, his words were transformed so that each parishioner was able to understand him perfectly. ✧⥼──༻❁༺──⥽✧ Bartholomew Virosi Hugues Denies the Crown by Bartholomew Virosi c. 1678 Almost a century later, paintings by Bartholomew Virosi began to appear. It is thought that he may have been a court artist for the Holy Orenian Empire. His most famous painting, “Hugues Denies the Crown” was featured in the declaration of His Imperial Highness, Philip Aurelian, Duke of Adria called “On the Mission of Adria.” This missive, undated, was made sometime after the death of John VIII. His works are thought to have remained within the trust of the Holy Orenian Empire until its fall as well as within the hold of Virosi’s who moved to Rhen. ✧⥼──༻❁༺──⥽✧ Godric Virosi of Reza Saint High Pontiff James II b. 1712 - d. 1802 By 1712, the only recorded Virosi’s lived in the outskirts of Reza, where they owned a glaziery. James II was born as Godric Virosi in Reza in 1712 and this time, the only quality about him was his surname. By this time, his family was of almost completely Haeseni ancestry despite their Heartlander history. He was the elder of two brothers. His parents were commoners, but were at least wealthy enough that the family employed a boarder and Godric’s mother did not have to work Godric’s father perished in the War of Two Emperors and he found solace in the Church. Godric eventually sold his shares in the glaziery to his brother, Theodric, and used the money to fund his schooling in a seminary in Ves. Following the completion of his schooling, Godric returned to Reza to complete administrational tasks. In 1741, Godric published one of Fabian the Lesser’s manuscripts, “Ius Bellum.” This brought the attention of High Pontiff John I. Two years later, Godric was elevated to Bishop of Reza and made Vice-Chancellor of the Curia and a Cardinal. After a few years of struggle with the unruly Curia under John I, Godric was sent back to Reza after being labeled an upstart. It wasn’t until after the death of High Pontiff John I that he would return to the Holy See. Godric made a bid for High Pontiff but was disregarded. He was, however, permitted to stay on as Vice-Chancellor to his opponent Ide Cardinal Ves, who now reigned as Pontian III. During this time, distaste for Godric faded and he was granted broad authority in the Curia. After the brutal assassination of Pontian III, Godric made a hasty trip to Helena to control the developing situation. Alongside Bishop Boniface, the Auditor, they were able to rule that Jasper Carrington, a member of the Helena family and an imperial official, was guilty of the crime and was excommunicated. With the situation under control, Godric put another bid down for High Pontiff, of which he won. On the 7th of Horen’s Calling, 1753, Godric was crowned with laurel and took the name James II. His namesake, High Pontiff James I, was born James Hightower, and served from 400 years prior as Prince-Archbishop to Ex. Godfrey. His name was a strange choice; in his lifetime, James I acquired a reputation as a lecher and embezzler. However, he was the first to receive the title of Pontifex, thus conferring the prophets’ spiritual authority on the High Priesthood. James II would later cite his reasoning within a private journal, stating, “I took James’ name not because of his unvirtuous personal life, but because his tenure represented the importance of cooperation among the faithful. He is the last High Priest mentioned in the Scroll of Gospel: he was charged with the transition from the prophetic age into the world we now inhabit, and Ex. Godfrey assigned him the task of harmonizing the doctrine of the Church. I felt — I think correctly — that this would also be my duty.” His first act as High Pontiff was to depart the continent, traveling to Athera on a three-year pilgrimage. While there, he recovered the lost original copies of the Scroll of Auspice.upon returning to Helena, he devoted much of his life to a meticulous translation compared against the work of St. High Pontiff Daniel and Bl. Fabian the Lesser. By the grace of the Church and the Empire together, they shared the scriptures available to the public for the very first time in the Church’s history. Immediately following his return from Athera, it had come to light that the Imperial State Army may have had collaborations with the Carringtons in assassinating Pontian III. James II immediately traveled to Helena, and while in a busy street, began to scold the Minister of Intelligence. However, mid-address, he was suddenly confronted by Emperor Peter III. The emperor had been alerted to the developing scene and descended from the Novellen Palace mostly unguarded. The two rulers met in a private office in the Bastille. No one can speak to the exchange that occurred; no one else was in the room. Neither man ever recounted the conversation in great detail either. Whatever was said, both left very amicable and often publicly called each other brothers. This meeting drastically changed the Church as the relationship between Church and state had been renegotiated to modern expectations, even going so far as to renew the practice of referring to the Emperor as a twin brother, in the model of Evaristus and Clement. James II’s reign was primarily characterized by formalization of various Church traditions, systemization of the Curia along ministerial lines, and general liberalization of the roles of women and racial minorities. Through these actions, James II restored the institution of the Holy Palatinate and reasserted the moral authority of the Church. Many wars and conflicts had passed in those years and the political landscape was rapidly shifting. Between the Sutica and Orenian wars, the peaceful parting of Haense from Oren, amongst many others. James II penned the missive “Canonist Theory of Just Wars” as guidebook for canonist princes to abide by. This theorem is explained by the precedent of the wars the Exalted faced and by the scriptures. However, amongst the most influential of conflicts was that against Iblees. When made aware of the Inferi in Korvassa, James II declared a Holy War upon them, even later pleading with the Suticans and Orenians to cease their battles to focus their resources to this joint cause. During the Inferi invasion of Arcas, James II witnessed several visions of the Archangel Michael, receiving from him a miraculous banner marked with the Argentate Star, and a gold coin bearing the archangel’s symbol. James II conferred the banner upon Philip Augustus, appointing him pontifical galfonier. At the last battle of the Inferi War, James II personally invoked an apparition of Archangel Michael, and at the petition of His Holiness, the Archangel interceded on the side of the Descendants. Although the war was ultimately lost, High Pontiff James II led the flock to a new home, a journey which lasted three years. Finally, they docked upon Almaris and settled. The announcement of their safe landing was released in the First Golden Bull of Providentia, the first of the continent’s Golden Bulls to be released. Many canonizations had been made following the battle, including that of St. Harald Vuiller. By the end of his reign, James II made eleven total canonizations, the most any High Pontiff had ever completed. In his later years, James II struggled against a palsy which disabled the left half of his body and eventually paralyzed him. However, this did not hinder him as James II released an update to the Canon Law originally made by High Pontiff Daniel VI. The size of it was incomparable in scope and drastically changed the modern world. This is the same Codex we follow to this day. The next month, on the 7th of Horen’s Calling, 1802, James II would pass away at the age of 90. It was also the anniversary of his enthronement forty-nine years prior. He would be remembered as the longest-reigning High Pontiff in the Church’s history. He likely celebrated the coronation of four human monarchs: Peter III as King of Kaedrin, Anne I and Joseph II as co-Empress and Emperor, and Josef I as King of Haense. By the time of his passing, no other monarch or cardinal from the year of his election still lived. Quite literally, none remember a time before the reign of James II. His last words read: “To all my friends and family, I say only that I love you, and in each of you resides a ray of God’s light. I have no other last words except, ‘The righteous shall be in everlasting remembrance. He shall not be afraid of evil tidings, his heart is ready to hope in the Lord.’ (Proverbs 3:12)” In 1822, High Pontiff Tylos I canonized James II, citing two miracles that had occurred. The first had occurred upon his death, where an unearthly quiet fell over the room and the distant voice of the Archangel Michael was heard shepherding him into the Seven Skies. The second began when a glazier repairing the windows of the Basilica of St. Heinrik fell and broke his back. The glazier prayed for the intercession of the late High Pontiff. Upon waking the next morning, he found himself miraculously cured. This section is dedicated to those who have survived Godric Virosi. It also includes information on where the Virosi’s have been since the last documentations of Theon Virosi and Beatrice Virosi, leading to the present date. ✧⥼──༻❁༺──⥽✧ Theon Virosi “The Bright and Brave” Theon Virosi was the nephew of Godric Virosi, and whilst not much was documented about him, there are a few writings that bear his name. The first evidence was his signature upon an undated recruitment missive by the Holy Order of St. Everard, naming him a Holy Knight. Holy Ser Theon was featured as a guest writer in the Helena Herald in 1770, where he wrote a brief column on the conflict in Leuven. In another undated document, Holy Ser Theon wrote an employment registry, inviting workers to Aquila on behalf of the High Council of the Holy Palatinate of Aquila. He signed himself as “Alderman of Vuillermoz.” In 1797, Holy Ser Theon became the editor for the politics section in the Providence Post. By 1802, Theon Virosi had become the Pontifical Aide and following the death of his uncle, he was tasked with reading the results of the Conclave’s vote for a new Pontiff. It was Theon who announced the then Owyn III. In his death, James II had asked for whomever his predecessor might be to allow Theon to remain in the Pontifical apartments as a guest until Theon’s death. Owyn III was known to have been a cruel man, and only a year after being crowned, a petition accusing him of breaking eleven Canon Laws was put forth. Theon Virosi’s signature had been placed under neath. It is assumed that, because Theon is not documented on Almaris prior to this event that he was forbidden from remaining in pontifical apartments and had moved. It is thought that he may have moved alongside his brothers to Rhen. ✧⥼──༻❁༺──⥽✧ Beatrice Virosi The story of Beatrice is an interesting one, following much scandal and accusations post-James II’s death. She had been accused of leading St. James II to sin, of being his lover, as well as of being an elf. Beatrice is documented as St. James II’s niece and was his caretaker when his body had been taken by palsy. Upon his death, she was entrusted to hold his few worldly possessions, sole care over his body, and complete oversight over his funeral arrangements. Before his death, St. James II had written a request to his successor to permit Theon to remain within the Palatinate apartments as a guest. However, the treacherous Owyn III expelled the nephew of the late High Pontiff. Fearful of persecution by the hand of this new Pontiff, the Virosi’s that remained on Almaris set sail for a new home to prevent further persecution simply for bearing their name. They settled within the Northern parts of Rhen. A descendant of Godric’s brother brought along the glaziery business, which eventually earned them the attention of Rhenari nobles, as well as the administrations that led them. Over time, they were rewarded with a Marzbanate both for their success as merchants but also in their servitude to the Canonist Church within Rhen. The Marzbanate of Veloz is located on the Northern shores of Rhen, a devout canonist sect of the continent. Culture, language and traditions soon intermingled between the customs of Rhenyari and House Virosi. Over the years, the family Virosi has welcomed Rhenyari peoples into its court and lineage, providing them closer ties with the people they serve. Virosi’s may don fashions ranging anywhere between the popular Akritian fashion fit for the tropics, to a more modest display. ✧⥼──༻❁༺──⥽✧ Marzbanate of Veloz Fashion by Kathryn Virosi c. 1993 In 1984, over 180 years after their departure, the Marzban, Arif Godfrey Virosi, granted his nine-year-old daughter permission to travel to Aevos. Kathryn Atalia Virosi would begin to learn the ways of the Church, courts, and how to be of service to others in this time. While this collection has reached the present-day, the House of Virosi hope that many more of their kin shall follow to spread the word and faith of GOD. Signed, Her Excellency, KATHRYN ATALIA VIROSI, Camareiro of the Courta Cometa, Scribe of Cardinal Ivan Lotharia, Chancellor to the Royal-Legate

The swan quill scratched against parchment illuminated by the golden glow of the dancing candle. Kathryn Virosi's cornflower blue eyes flickered to the original missive, making copies of the declaration for the Archives of the Archdiocese of Lotharia. Sand was poured upon the copy and poured back into its container. With the ink now dried, Kathryn rolled up the paper into a scroll and tied it closed with a chartreuse ribbon. The halls echoed with each step she took, the crickets chirping and the ocean waves crashed outside the open windows she passed. Torches had been lit, their flames a light to guide her path to the Archives. The the door opened with a loud click that echod. Striding through the aisles, the scroll was slipped into a shelf and the brunette turned to face the window nearest to her. Opening it, the stars sparkled against the pitch-black sky. The breeze whisped through her chocolate-brown locks and brought a cooling sensation to her skin. A sigh left the young Virosi as her eyes lifted to the skies. "I wonder what King John I saw when God showed him the way. I pray that God will come to us in the same way so that he too may guide us ALL upon the right path." The brunette lifted her right hand and humbly lowered her head, signing the Lorraine over her frame.

Olenna Katerina Haverlock traced her pen over the missive as it was passed to her, a deep frown settling upon her features. She had read it over and over following the death of her friend. Her first friend in Blackworth. Tears spilled from under her mask and down her cheek, leaving droplets upon the paper in her hands. "Poor Tiffany... God rest your sweet soul."

The sun beat down upon the wheat fields of Balian, Kathryn Virosi harvested the wheat and replanted its seed methodically, travelling row by row and section by section. The path was not made for her; She had to forge it herself. Her dress was muddied by the earth and the creases in her hands were filled with dirt. The time passed; her task monotonous. She had lost track of time as with each bushel harvested she would pray. It wasn't until an acolyte had run out to her with a missive in hand. Pink, orange, and yellow danced in the sky above. Kathryn brushed her hands off before accepting the note, her cornflower blue eyes scanning the paper. "What is this? Did the Cardinal not order for these politics to stop? Are they attempting to justify breaking the word of the Cardinal and his regency? Instead, they seek to continue their impatience and prejudice against a man who is trying to work back to the light." The Virosi sighed, pinching her nose until she lifted her visage to the sunset that shone over the horizon. "I pray for those who call themselves canonists and yet cannot follow the Scroll of Virtue. Patience is a virtue, and it has been broken time and time again. Where is Humility? God, what trials do you place before us that we must fight against this scourge? Why has your name been something people take so lightly and use as a shield for wrong? Has forgiveness been erased from your Word?" The scythe was set aside, leaning against the stone wall of the fields as Kathryn lowered herself to kneel amongst the golden wheat. "Guide me so that I may have patience when met with your trials. Guide my hand, my Lord, to be patient and kind even in the face of anger." Her head crowned by a circlet of braided hair bowed low as she continued to pray for a few moments longer. Rising to her feet, she wobbled from the soreness that pulsated through her legs, but she picked up her tools and continued to pray and harvest until the last drop of sunlight would seep over the ocean's vast layout.

In the Balian cathedral, Kathryn Virosi knelt before the grand altar, her hands clasped tightly in prayer. Soft rays of light filtered through the towering stained-glass windows, casting colorful patterns on the marble floor around her. Her eyes remained closed in quiet devotion as her lips silently prayed her hopes and fears to the sacred silence. Her heart heavy with both reverence and yearning, her cornflower blue eyes lift to the Lorraine cross crafted from gold that glimmered in the sunlight. Whisps of brunette bangs tickled her visage as her fingertips brushed against them upon signing the Lorraine over her frame. She would rise then, turning upon her heel for the fields of Balian. Wheat danced in the breeze, rustling the music of the harvest to come. With scythe in hand, she could begin the long journey of her own self-imposed penance. She had sowed the seeds, waiting long for them to grow, and she shall refine it to flour and bake it to be delivered to each canonist nation - and more, if possible. The first of many of her vows. "If you must face the weather, weather it together." The Virosi uttered as gazed to the sun that shone overhead, brushing sweat from her forehead. There was no time to rest, and thus she returned to her handiwork. "For He is good and all good things come through Him."

Kathryn Virosi smiles as she reads the missive before turning back to harvesting the wheat. More bread shall be made and dispersed. At least peace lasted a little while longer. Bundling her crop, the Lady Virosi schemes of new ways to bread-ify every nation. A BREADPIRE.

☼ Attires of BaliaN ☼ ☼ A collection of Balianese men and women's weaR ☼ ISSUED BY THE ☼ Courta Cometa ☼ ON THE 6th OF HOREN'S CALLING, 121 B.A. In every realm, a distinct fashion serves as a powerful medium of expression that reflects social values, historical context, and individual identity. Clothing transcends above fabric to embody cultural narratives, societal norms, and economic conditions. Historically, fashion plays a pivotal role in shaping and mirroring cultural shifts: from the opulent attire of the Petrine Empire of Oren to the revolutionary style of the Balianese. The migration of our peoples allowed for a tapestry of cultures to cultivate the fashion of Balian: from the influences of the Rhenyari, the Balthalite, the Petrine, and other southern-adjusted climate cultures. Clothing in Balian can be vibrant and has adjusted to the temperate, warm climates of which the people reside. The tailors and seamstresses take great care with their craftsmanship, creating detailed attires, intricate jewelry, and refined hairstyles to form a captivating allure of those who adorn their work. The fashion of Balian has become distinctive, making its people recognizable all across the lands of Aevos. All citizens and visitors of Balian deserve to relish in the sweet bliss of representing Balianese culture. Whether it is for comfort in the environment, self-expression, or to stand out amongst the crowd, all are welcome to participate in enjoying the vibrant fashions our realm has to offer. However, not all are skilled with the art of sewing nor have the coins to afford such. A collection of men’s wear, women’s wear, and accessories has been gathered to accommodate for such. We invite everyone to proudly declare their individuality through the expression of the unique style the Balianese community offers. ✧────────────⥼☼⥽────────────✧ ✧⥼☼⥽✧ ✧⥼☼⥽✧ ✧────────────⥼☼⥽────────────✧ Her Royal Majesty, LAVANYA OF CRESONIA, Queen-Consort of Balian, Princess of Providence, Duchess-Consort of Helena, Sunholdt and Lorraine, Countess-Consort of Pompourelia and Kositz, Viscountess-Consort of Eflen and Anatis, Baroness-Consort of Renzfeld, Brucca, Valens, Malenos, Montcoure and Ciavola, Lady of Portoregne, Atrus and Monterosa, Protector of the Heartlands and the South, etcetera His Excellency, SIR TRISTIAN DE LYONS, Viscount of Enderoca, Patriarch of de Lyons, Palatiodora of the Courta Cometa, Knight of the Order of St. Michael Lady KATHRYN ATALIA VIROSI, Ward of Her Royal Majesty, Queen Lavanya of Cresonia

𝓡 𝓔 𝓛 𝓞 𝓒 𝓐 𝓣 𝓘 𝓞 𝓝 𝓞 𝓕 𝓣 𝓗 𝓔 𝓒 𝓞 𝓤 𝓣 𝓤 𝓡 𝓔 ∘₊✧━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━✧₊∘ Do not Provoke the Lion [!] A painting of the Enderoca Trading Co. stall in Portoregne, Balian. ∘₊✧━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━✧₊∘ Couture de Lyons officially announces that it has shut its doors at Anne's Avenue 4 and has relocated to PIATA DE DOYENNES 4 to unite with the ENDEROCA TRADING CO. The new stall is located to the right of the Balian bank. We are proud to announce that our goods now include but are not exclusive to: melee and ranged weapons, custom weapons, custom wedding bands, resources, and signature beverages. Any coupons can still be redeemed at the new shop at Anne's Avenue 4: Crowning Glory by Kathyrn Virosi. Signed, His Excellency, Ser Tristan de Lyon, Viscount of Enderoca, Patriarch of de Lyons Palatiodora of the Courta Cometa, Knight of the Order of St. Michael Dona Joanna de Lyons, Viscountess-Consort of Enderoca Don, Ser Robert Joseph de Lyons, Erudit of the Order of the Silver Comet, Kritai of Balian Don Samuel Alexandros de Lyons Dona Colette Jacqueline de Lyons ∘₊✧━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━✧₊∘ The following attires are sold at the NEW ENDEROCA TRADING CO. 𝒟𝒾𝓃𝓃𝑒𝓇 & 𝒟𝒾𝒶𝓉𝓇𝒾𝒷𝑒𝓈 Men's wear: 75 Minae 𝒲𝒾𝓁𝒹𝒻𝒾𝓇𝑒 Men's wear: 75 Minae 𝒮𝒶𝓁𝓉 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒮𝑒𝒶 Women's wear: 75 Minae 𝒲𝒾𝓃𝑒 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒲𝒽𝑒𝒶𝓉 Women's wear: 75 Minae 𝒮𝓌𝒶𝓃 𝒮𝑜𝓃𝑔 𝒱𝑒𝒾𝓁 Women's wear: 35 Minae 𝒫𝑒𝓇𝒻𝓊𝓂 & 𝒞𝑜𝓁𝑜𝑔𝓃𝑒 Parfum Symphonie Florale: 10 Minae Parfum Vanille Reverie: 10 Minae Mystic Spice Cologne: 10 Minae Enchanted Woods Cologne: 10 Minae ∘₊✧━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━✧₊∘

Emeline Josefina Temesch prepared a cup of tea for her husband, knowing he would be working tirelessly in this time of turmoil. For Justice.

Plucking at the strings of her lute lazily, Emeline glanced toward her husband as he read the missive aloud to her. "How absurd. There was no coronation to crown him; They may as well do to Paul the same thing they did with Ravenmire."

A LEADER DECLARED The citizens of the Children's Kingdom of Balian have voted. The results were almost tied. However, we as the citizens, now proudly declare that John Casimir shall be King! A court shall be held within the coming days to discuss important affairs for our Kingdom. Signed, Colette de Lyons

A Lion Homeward Bound ∘₊✧━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━✧₊∘ [!] Juliana and Arthur de Lyons dancing in the woods of Petra, Almaris c. 1903 ∘₊✧━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━✧₊∘ Cough. Wheeze. Cough. Juliana looked upon her mother with pity, pouring water from the pitcher into a glass bowl. Her father briefly dipped a washcloth into the bowl and wrung out the water before placing it on Madeline’s forehead with a deep frown. His hand stroked his wife’s blonde hair with tender care as shallow, crackling breaths sound from the woman’s lungs. Once the Vernhart mother had fallen asleep again, Iulius guided his little daughter into his office. His eyes were dull and bags formed under them, but they looked upon her with care as he spoke softly to the demure girl. “Your mother is dying. It is best to say your goodbyes soon.” ∘₊✧━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━✧₊∘ Crrrsssp. Crush. Crunch. Dirt formed the backroad paths from Haense. Willow branches danced in the breeze, an ethereal aire to the memorial forest Juliana trekked alone. With everything she had ever owned stored in her little satchel, the woman of twenty years ventured onwards. With her mother and father gone and her elder siblings abandoning her, the youngest Vernhart explored beyond the walls she had never dared venture beyond. Wispy willows gave way to towering pines as rolling Orenian hills were traversed. Spruce rooftops came into view with chimneys billowing morning breakfast smoke into the air. Coming upon the town’s square, there were few who were about their day carrying on with their daily chores and errands. Juliana browsed the shops with curiosity, entering upon a blacksmith shop where blades and tools hung for sale. Across the street a man with hair as gold as corn’s examined the wares at an alchemist’s stall. Her lips parted and her breath hitched - but no sound would come. Even when she wished so greatly, Juliana could not muster a word. “Quit your staring.” An old hag scolded bitterly. Juliana did not answer. “Say something, little girl... Or are you too scared? HA!” The witch laughed from the street whilst waving her staff at the Vernhart. “If you’re not going to speak, then get out of here!” The blond man Juliana’s gaze and she was shaken from her thoughts; Her back straightened as she quickly turned to look elsewhere in the shop. The man crossed the road and approached the women with a frown. “If she has no desire to speak, then leave her be.” The old woman huffed and departed with her nose stuck high in the air! “Thank you.” Juliana’s soft voice spoke just barely above a whisper. “You’re welcome.” The Petran soldier’s gauntlet extended to Juliana, green eyes sparkling as he spoke kindly, “I’m Arthur.” “Juliana.” She greeted, meeting the hand with a shake. ∘₊✧━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━✧₊∘ Squish. Squash. Squelch. The Silent Lamb, as she was now known, learned to fight amongst the other Petrans and gladly joined the ranks of the Sons of Petra. Some days were filled with training and hunts whilst others of laughter and camaraderie. Her bond with Arthur de Lyons grew and soon they were wed. Juliana found herself a mother to Robyn and Elaine and still expecting others. There was nothing else Juliana could have asked for when she moved to Petra. The streets stained black with blood that oozed with malice - a war between brothers-in-arms and a husband and wife. The Castle Moere was the start of it all and not an inch of it had gone untainted. Crimson splattered across every surface, including the furthest corner of the court. The expectant de Lyons mother knelt there where blood left no sight of the floor and walls beneath and laid a trembling hand upon the surface, pressing the pads of her fingertips into the drying liquid. Her head bowed low and brunette curls shield her visage from the view of those still lingering who had survived the storm of raiders and nefarious creatures. “Arthur…” She exhaled with a tremor in her soft tone while tears streamed down her olive cheeks, droplets of saltwater mixing with her husband’s spilled life. Juliana was left alone once more. The first person she had ever spoken a word to was gone. And with his death, a piece of her died too. The Silent Lamb was reduced, once more, to silence. ∘₊✧━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━✧₊∘ Sssrrrhk, Crrrrrp, Snip. The tearing of fabric could be heard throughout her little sewing room in Enderoca, only to be heard by herself and the servants that would come to attend to her. Every day was the same. Living in lonesome despite a full house. Dull frosty eyes gazed outside the little stained glass window before they fell upon her handiwork with great frustration. The trembling of her hands. It proved more and more difficult to complete her duties. Setting her scissors aside and grabbing her cane, Juliana went to go for a walk by the sparkling sea. ∘₊✧━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━✧₊∘ Cough. Wheeze. Cough. The snow-white handkerchief stained crimson and putrid yellow-green. Juliana knew what it was. She had seen it before. Thus, she knew it was time. It progressed slowly. She had time to prepare. Every inhale and exhale crackled, every breath like climbing a thousand-story castle. Delirium had set in long ago as the fever ravaged her small frame. In moments of clarity, Juliana spoke to her family: her grandson Tristian, her great-grandson Samuel, and friends of old and new. Each so dearly loved and hugged as memories were shared with teary eyes. Now she sat with her eldest son, her baby boy, Robert. They stared at each other for a long time, the weight of reality began to set in. So many decades of anger and grief plagued them each, butting them against one another. Now death came. Robyn sat beside his mother and began signing to her. ‘I’m sorry I was not a good son.’ Juliana’s lips thinned into a frown as she shook her head, silvery locks brushing against the pillow they lay upon. ‘I am sorry I was not a good mother.’ The mother’s movements were almost indecipherable by her uncontrollable shaking. Tears welled within the patriarch de Lyons and the woman’s hand rested upon her son’s, the other attempting to reach for the red ribbon tied within her hair. Robyn gently pulled on it, the crimson silk sliding carefully from her thinned hair. The curls fell into place and lined her frail visage. She signed, finally, ‘I used to wrap it around the flowers I’d always give your father. Keep it safe for me.’ Robyn gripped it tight and nodded. He began to rise from his kneel, but the old woman pulled on his sleeve. ‘Will you stay with me?’ She asked. “I will.” He answered. Holding the hand of her son, Juliana shut her eyes a final time hearing only the sounds of her own breath and the sweet aroma of fresh flowers at her bedside. ∘₊✧━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━✧₊∘ The air was thick with the earthy aroma of vegetation and damp peat. A musty, almost sweet smell that hints at the slow processes of decomposition at work stung her nostrils. The soothing murmur of water flowing through moss accompanied by the occasional melodic call of birds hidden amongst the trees flitted from the silence. The steady hum of insects form a musical drone that underscores the serene stillness of the landscape. The ground under her feet was spongy and soft as she sank into the waterlogged mud. Water-loving creatures swam in the bog and tickled her skin, a few even ribbiting in the near distance. Their slimy touch caused Juliana to jolt awake, the sunlight just barely peeping through the trees above. The water glistened at her feet as the stagnant pools reflected the muted light. Lush moss carpets the ground and blooms of orchids blossom within the swampland. The woman’s lips part, the taste of cool, humid air carried the twang of mineral-rich water. In the distance, a figure could be seen lying in the reeds. Juliana took a few steps toward it; The water splashed with resistance making her trek a struggle. Illuminated by the dim light of the forest, the frame of an armored man stands tall. His armor was heavily worn by war and patches of blackened vegetation and traces of mildew decay where they stuck to him. Blond locks stuck to his forehead, slicked down by the mucky waters he once laid in. His countenance was a ghostly pale and green eyes that looked upon the de Lyons with bittersweet sorrow. His gauntlet extends to her, water dripping from his fingertips and rippling the bog’s surface below. “Arthur.” Juliana’s hand stretched forth as she walked toward him. The water was easy on her path, as if she could glide through it like a blade into flesh. Her hand joined his, their digits intertwining tight with fear - as if they would be taken from each other once more. Juliana lowered herself to sit in the water, soaking the white dress she wore. With her husband beside her holding her tight, the woman slowly laid back into the cold embrace of the bog. Her body sunk into the mud as the surface closed over her; A final, silent surrender of life. ∘₊✧━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━✧₊∘ Juliana Rosemarie de Lyons 8 BA - 117 BA

ARBITERS???????? HELL YEAH. I CAN GET BEHIND THIS ONE +1 NOW DROP LOTC MASTER CHIEF

An old guardlady Dame met the fallen lad in the skies, dapping him up upon their decades-long parting. "Welcome home" Dame Primrose greeted Cedric before going back to playing a came of chess with her friends (she was losing, as always).

This one's been in the drafts, hasn't it? Anyways, as a medic rper, this looks pretty cool. Could use some more content - but would love for others to come together and collaborate on it. not too bad.

MY FAVORITE POST OF THE YEAR LETS GOOOOO

A poppy-adorned medic sipped upon her cup of tea as she read the missive, her brow perking as she set down the porcelain chinaware upon the table. "I had heard rumors... I predicted this to come - that girl is no good." The missive was creased neatly and tucked away into a folder for safekeeping.

The Temesch bard hummed a tune, the poem's words swirling through her mind. Emeline was cooking.

Guys you can’t be enabling my pastel pink addiction like this… (please.. i’m on my knees begging… i want it)

Colette Jacqueline de Lyons cried... because she was a baby.

A holly-adorned medic squinted as she read the missive. "Why would someone write with the same color ink as the paper? This isn't scary, this is illegible!"

Days had gone by since Alberic's mother had heard from him. The house they shared was quiet, more than usual, and she had set out for him. The verdant crown of ivy and poisonous berries hung low as her head bowed, her brow now furrowed with great concern. The small room was illuminated with the gentle golden glow of candlelight as the story was told, her hand held that of the Keeper's sister tightly as she learned of her son's fate. It had been known to her that this would happen; It was only a matter of time. But she had not expected for it to happen so soon. Greying locks hung in front of her face like that of a willow's weeping branches, a curtain to hide her bereaved features from that of the sister. The Keeper's sister and her embraced each other in woe. She had not held the boy when he was a newborn, she had not disciplined him as a toddler, nor played with him as a child... She had raised him, trained him, and stood by his side from the moment they were fated to meet in his adolescent years. She loved him as her own. She had adopted other children, yes, and she had one of her own blood... but He was her only child; He was her only son. Her wails erupted with such a sadness that shook all hearts. It was unmistakable; It was unforgettable. It was a mother's cry. Once her tears had fallen and her weeping ceased, the woman lifted her head with a smile. It was tender and proud. These saltwater droplets of grief were not just of pain, but also of great pride for her son. In the years they formed their relationship, she had always taught him to to follow his golden heart, to protect the innocent, and fight for what is right... He died true to himself, and for that she was overjoyed. The mother knew what to do now. It was a conversation they had many times before. The crown of holly was removed from her hair, knotted brunette strands catching upon the pointed ivy of her hollyberry crown. A candle burned brightly at her windowsill within the home of Albert. The crimson berries reflected the light as wax dripped along the shaft of the candle, a tear of its own. The crown was dear to the mother and her son knew she almost never removed it. It was a great honor to receive her crown, and now it was his. Her eyes stared at the flicker of the flame before she bowed her head with deep reverence and kept watch that night. She had work to do.

Lady Emeline fiddled with the strings of her guitar whilst humming the tune now published for the realm to enjoy. She sat in the window of her room shared with her husband, Marcus, who slumbered heavily. Midnight air created a crisp chill, the wind rustling her chocolate brown locks and fluttering pastel pink petals crowned upon her head. This song had become one of her favorites thus far almost like it was her child. As her fingers picked notes here and there, her eyes shut to enjoy the enveloping emotions a good melody gave her as her mind wandered to the tale told. She thought of her own love and perhaps she, in her mind, was a bit like this Esmerelda.

Name: Olenna Katerina RademacherAge: 34 (at the time of the pageant)Gender: FemalePlace of residency within Aaun: Horen 1 (the rademacher estate)Are you in good standing with the Aaunic government?: I'd hope so (I work for them)