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ibiou

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  1. The Lady Chamberlain of the newfound Heartlander Confederation, HEDWIG OF WARSOVIA, turned to CHARLES ALSTION as they sat together now. "To the future." She whispered under her breath, unable to contain her grin. @Olox_
  2. HEDWIG JAZLOWIECKI hadn't known her uncle, WACLAW, during her young life. Born in the last few years of his reign as the Count of Warsovia he had only been a voice within their home, or a rare sighting of his red hair escaping through a doorway. As the House of Jazlowiecki fell into a period of mourning, Hedwig could not help but feel the profound loss upon her shoulders; weighing her down. Before she slipped her riding gloves on to make haste to join her companions in the west, the Jazlowiecki lit a candle in her chamber's windowsill. "See how far we have come, uncle. Watch on as I take our name and legacy to greater heights."
  3. II. THE FRIENDSHIP OF SAINTS The second PAINT THE SAINT night of the PARADISIAN COURT was once more hosted by Her Excellency, Hedwig of Warsovia, in the Hand of Horen. Following the success of the last session, the Lady Chamberlain sees fit to instate the artistic session as a yearly event, for the population of the great kingdom of Aaun to revel in artistry and embrace their creativity. Whilst the challenge of guessing Saint Godwin with descriptive clues bloomed fruitful art pieces, this session posed an intriguing question: OUT OF ALL OF THE CANONIST SAINTS, WHO WOULD END UP BEING GREAT FRIENDS? Purely theoretical, courtiers had the chance to group together saints based on their own justifications as to, if they were alive at the same time, whether or not they would be good friends. Additionally, they were handed a paper list of all of the saints; the choice of who they would pick being fully theirs. Once more did the attendees grab their paint brushes with eagerness, ready to unleash their artisan personas. The results of Paint the Saint night will be showcased below. Ser Sterling Whitewood @_RoyalCrafter_ “Saint Amya and Saint Arianne; Fides in Nature.” Lady Arowyn Whitewood @Frank_Dog “Mine is of Saint Michael of Cordobe and Saint. Arianne. Two patron saints of service, ought to get along with each other I think.” His Lordship, Guy de Lewes @Timer “Saint Edmond is the patron saint of baronial lords amongst other things, and I shall one day be baron myself, GOD willing.” Her Majesty, Amelya of Middelan @bickando “They are both saints and sinners. Gluttons, each in their own sense…” Her Highness, Josephine Florentia Alstion @Myochii “I thought it unlikely for an egg and a chicken leg to be friends. It's like an apple going back to its own tree to befriend where it came from. Isn't it weird?” Miss Jénnet @Orphvius “Saint Julia of Paradisus and Saint Judith of Czena; why, both patron saints are women! Mustn’t they be the bestest of friends in the heavens?” HER EXCELLENCY, Hedwig of Warsovia, Lady Chamberlain of the Paradisian Court
  4. I. SAINT GODWIN The first PAINT THE SAINT night of the PARADISIAN COURT was hosted last saints day in the depths of the Hand of Horen. Hosted by Lady Hedwig of Warsovia, the twist on the usual art nights put on by courts of yore was inspired by the apostolic nature of the Kingdom of Aaun. Instead of painting whatever came to mind, courtiers would have a chance to use their Canonist knowledge to guess a saint based on three descriptive clues. Then, with those clues, one will paint an interpretation of the saint. The clues were as followed: He is one of the sons of Exalted Horen. The patron saint of the Heartlanders. A diocese is currently named after him. As one could guess, this session’s saint was SAINT GODWIN. A key figure in Aaunic society as its first king, it was only appropriate that the night should pay tribute to him. Everyone present took to their canvases and paint brushes in the instant, and began to work on their masterpieces. The results of Paint the Saint night will be showcased below. His Lordship, Demetrio Varoche @PufferfishTrash His Highness, Johannes von Alstreim @Balthasar His Royal Highness, James Marcel Alstion @Sefardi Her Excellency, Hedwig of Warsovia @ibiou Her Royal Highness, Josephine Florentia Alstion @Myochii HER EXCELLENCY, Hedwig of Warsovia, Lady Chamberlain of the Paradisian Court
  5. The Investiture of Alba, to HEDWIG OF WARSOVIA, was something that loomed over the presence of CHARLES REMAN ALSTION for quite some time. She had listened to his ramblings for hours upon end, each ounce of enthusiasm and concern, that when news had reached her she wasn't surprised. Rather, she was elated. "I shall seek out a gift for him." Murmured she, "It is the least I can do." Once she was back home from her ventures, Hedwig ushered a servant aside to arrange a bouquet of white roses to be delivered to the Hand of Horen.
  6. The merriment of HEDWIG OF WARSOVIA as of late was apparent. As she received word of her summoning to Royal Court did she, with grace and dignity, humbly accept to be in attendance. Reaching for a quill and paper upon her vanity (whilst spilling a few blotches of ink in the process), Hedwig began to pen the LORD OF ALBA, with whom she would express her excitement to. @Olox_
  7. THE NAME-DAY CELEBRATION OF LADY HEDWIG & LADY ALICJA OF WARSOVIA Issued by the COUNTY OF WARSOVIA on the 14th of Sun’s Smile, 1971 Hear ye, he ye, across the Apostolic Kingdom of Aaun… rom the COMITAL HOUSE OF JAZLOWIECKI are the twin sisters, LADY HEDWIG MARIA & LADY ALICJA JULIA, regarded as familiar faces around Aaun. Yet, time has passed since the pair were on the uprise of their childhood. In the eyes of Aaunic society, they will become women upon the dawn of their eighteenth name-day. Both Lady Hedwig and Lady Alicja will debut in a celebration known as KUPAŁA NIGHT, to honour their Lechian heritage. Made from the wild herbs and flowers of the Langkette mountains, the wreath becomes the symbol of fertility, health and one’s future prospects. Both ladies will have wreaths tailored to their liking, different from the rest. From there, the garlands will be tossed into the river by the women present with a lighted candle. If it is to be fished out by a present bachelor, it is meant to signify a quick marriage with hopes in mind of gaining the man’s favour. If it was left to float, or burned in the candle flame, or even became entangled in the riverweeds it is assumed that the girl would not marry soon. Upon these followed rituals, the merriment of celebrations shall ensue. Beverages shall be widely available, as well as the companionship of dance. Attendees are encouraged to don lighter colours, such as pale blues, greens and yellows or white. All those of royal, noble and common blood in the Apostolic Kingdom of Aaun are encouraged to attend, though special invites are extended to the following individuals: HIS ROYAL HIGHNESS, Charles Reman, Lord of Alba HER ROYAL HIGHNESS, Josephine Florentia of Alstion HIS ROYAL HIGHNESS, John Valentinus of Alstion HIS ROYAL HIGHNESS, James Marcel of Alstion HIS ROYAL HIGHNESS, Alexander Caius of Alstion LORD Leufroy Otto of Velen LADY Guinevere Milena of Velen LADY Siegmunda Agnes of Velen LORD Guy Olivier of Virdain LADY Catherine Éloïse of Virdain LORD George Lothar of Halcourt LADY Eloise Aleksandra of Halcourt HIS ROYAL HIGHNESS, Elianos Hadrian of Balian HER HIGHNESS, Kareena Isabel of Nasrid MISS Lucia MADAME Lulu Izar and Itri HIS LORDSHIP, Krzysztof Pawel Jazlowiecki, Count of Warsovia LADY Hedwig Maria Jazlowiecki of Warsovia LADY Alicja Julia Jazlowiecki of Warsovia
  8. By her mirror did HEDWIG OF WARSOVIA spin around in a dress option for the Ball of Castle Monstresor, only to be met with the chirps of applause by her birds. "Oh, settle down." She told them. "It cannot be something too lavish, or too plain... eugh-" With a heavy sigh and woeful swooning did she fall onto her bed, hair sprawling out atop of the covers. "I must make my presence know, but how?" And at that did the poor Lechian girl spend hours anxiously worrying about the coming night.
  9. he subtle breeze brushed by curtains, dimming the candlelight upon the mantlepiece. Its flame flickered with much intention, trying to stay alight, yet were snuffed out before their attempts could become of use. The height of the night had fallen upon Nowa Warsovia. Dream sequences; heavy sweats, unable to be cooled. HEDWIG tossed and turned. Sleep came and went for her, yet in bursts did she find herself swallowed in its embrace. She had been lost in the realm of dreams for days upon end. This one, in particular, was different. __________________ Half-bird, half-man; an abomination far known to the likes of Hedwig Jazlowiecki, yet ached with familiarity. With its human hands he reached out for her, skimmed with fingertips the back of her own, before joining them in union. The beady eyes of the bird’s head looked back. “You have betrayed the very thing you swore will fulfil you in this life, little dove.” The voice, clear, rang in Hedwig’s ears. There was an uncertainty to whether she could even respond in this realm, wherever it may be. She, aware of her slumber, only looked on with a distorted stare. The voice continued with question after question: “Do you yield? Will you cower, and accept it as it is?” “Why should I?” Hedwig sorely replied, croaking. Her tone had surprised her almost, that her eyes largely widened. She was too stubborn, too headstrong, too proud. Why should she? Yet she did, so invitingly, that it sickened her with a gut-wrenching feel she could not swallow. Her insides felt as though they were being wringed out like a wet cloth. The more she looked towards the bird-man, the more she was able to pick his features apart amidst her nausea. The head of a crane sat on the shoulders of a grown man, donning an attire of all-black. What spouted from his back were a pair of wings. The way he appeared was too natural for the hybrid to be in existence. One would assume that he was a frankensteined creature, but it did not appear to be the case. He was a mystery. “Little dove,” He started, “I have not come to you to give into your needless self-sacrifice. Rather, I possess the power of perspicuity. Obsessed with knowing, with certainty, that you forget yourself. You depend upon the actions of others that you tear yourself apart to make them whole. When will you have your share?” Hedwig, taken aback, pressed her lips shut. The bird-man continued. “Your suffering does not come from a place of honesty to yourself. If you were, would you not be content in your hurt?” “You ask so many questions—” “And yet, little dove, you answer none.” A moment, then, did Hedwig pause for her next response. “I cannot give you the answers you desire, for what I have done has passed. I cannot change what happened.” Little did she speak, yet in her words did she prove him right. If a beak could contort itself into a grin, it would have. Instead did the bird-man look blankly at her. She was too self-conscious. “I swore to myself not to come to regret my decisions.” “I did not mention regret.” His words, stern, were somewhat contradictory to his softened tone. He let go of Hedwig’s hands and turned her back to her for a few moments. She caught a glimpse of his wings speckled in cosmos and starlight. In other circumstances, she would have asked to touch the feathers; not now, in this state. Curiosity had always gotten the best of her. “You were willing to carry the burden of a thousand lifetimes and it still was not enough. Do not seek out pity from the earth and wallow in it. Metamorphosis—become, adapt, change. There is still hope. You are more than you think you are.” “And what, then, will I become?” He turned around, at last, to reveal the sharp talons where his hands once were. Sprouting with feathers was he directly at his chest, and the bird-man grew in size. Before Hedwig did he morph himself into a majestic crane. He was ten times the size of her now, that if he stepped closer he would engulf her completely. She was mesmerised by his otherworldliness. Those wings that belonged to the night sky stretched out on either side of his body and flapped, once. It was the sound of a beating drum, though much louder, echoing within the void they found themselves in. The gleam in the crane’s eye was vast and unreachable. He was another being now. Her stomach churned. “The depths of your possibilities are endless, little dove. You do not have to become a martyr for your cause. Watch then, the flames of rebirth embrace you to be something greater than they will ever behold.” The sounds of rhythmic drumming — his wings — once more ensued. Faster this time, more frequent. He was to fly off. His legs lifted from the ground and he swung himself around, soaring. As the crane went off into the null distance, Hedwig’s vision blurred… __________________ Bloodshot were her eyes when she found herself awake. It had hit her hard in the chest, gasping for air, panicking. Immediately did Hedwig’s gaze fix itself to the window. The rosy dawn grew brighter and brighter, spilling sunlight across the wooden panels on the floor. Her hands lifted to her cheek, and felt her eyes, for the first time, fill with tears. The dream—vivid now more than ever. She wrapped her arms around herself and weeped. For the rest of the month of Godfrey’s Triumph, little was seen of HEDWIG JAZLOWIECKI around the Apostolic Kingdom of Aaun.
  10. Upon her countenance was the pull of her lips downward as her cousin's servant brought her the invitation. HEDWIG OF WARSOVIA, a girl much recovering from her own turmoil, let out a shaky breath. "Now, of all times?" She had asked herself, aloud. The bird by her had chirped back some reply, but alas, she did not bother listening. The invitation was left on her vanity as Hedwig took to sitting on her window ledge. "Perhaps I ought to go and show face. It would be rude not to."
  11. The FOLLOWERS OF CHAOS were something HEDWIG had not heard of with some time; not since her uncle's near-death. Yet, the letter she read - what had occured upon her early absence from the circus - had struck her deep. Her fingers wrapped around the missive and gripped the parchment tight. "This must be put to an end." She declared with grit, "I will not live in fear of The Beast and its dreaded ways." Despite her weary heart, the Lechian girl mustered to send her own letter, though this one a matter of private concern.
  12. IN COLLABORATION WITH HER ROYAL MAJESTY’S PARADISIAN COURT Throughout the expansive territories of the Apostolic Kingdom of Aaun and among those intrigued enough to seek out such knowledge, it is widely recognised that LADY JADWIGA JAZLOWIECKI OF WARSOVIA keeps good company in an array of birds. From lowly carrier pigeons to exotic parrots, her menagerie has grown quite impressive over the last few years. Now, in coming months of her fifteenth name-day, Lady Jazlowiecki wishes to open the doors of NOWA WARSOVIA for the denizens of Aaun and her allies to meet her birds, and learn more about the different species that reside in the local area of Langkette. Those who will attend will have the chance to hold the birds and gain more knowledge in how these birds can be used for things such as sending letters, in hunts and much more. Perhaps one will have their future told, a sign from a flap of a wing, that brings either peace or havoc to those present... HER LADYSHIP, Jadwiga Maria Jazlowiecki, Ward of Her Majesty, Queen-consort Amelya of Middelan
  13. RAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH get the blue tag off of this little man!!!!

    1. Greehn

      Greehn

      am i little D:?

  14. In St. Andrik did she spend her time as of late, in her room, keeping to herself. She found the place familiar, yet so far away - a resident in a complicated twist of family relations, who witnessed though did not act upon her thoughts. The candle in her room slowly ran out of spark within the last hours. JADWIGA JAZLOWIECKI found sleep hard to come by this eve, for the past year left her mind in disarray. Was she truly growing older? Talking with the Alstion princes, the Halcourt boys and Catherine had cemented the inevitability in her mind; Queen Amelya's offer distant, yet too soon. She made her way towards the window and crawled onto the windowsill, perching herself in its arch. PRINCE ALEXANDER had come to mind, then. The boy had much vigor in him, so much hope. Despite her relcutance to like him at first compared to his older brothers (perhaps a certain incident, with her feather, had fueled this), Jadwiga couldn't help but stand in awe whenever he was near. So much character within him: not knowing 'Robert' and 'robbing' were two different words, yet the ability to recite words as if he held the knowledge of the world beneath his palms. It brought her to a brink of stifled laughter in the dawn of night. Whether he was involved with 'Catherine' or 'Catherine, the Other', Alexander always had a tale to tell and something to do. The girl shook her head and looked onward past towards the church and treeline, and onto the Hand of Horen in the distance. She could faintly make out the tower's silohuette in the dark, but barely, only able to distinguish it from any other landmark by the faint glow of the windows. Her candleflame eventually went out, all at once, so Jadwiga returned to her bed. Before she slept, she prayed for the young Alexander to never lose his sense of self.
  15. [!] Delivered by bird to each child across the realm would be an invitation... THE SLEEPOVER UPON RUINS The Duchy of Stran was nothing more than a memory lost in the progression of time. Abandoned for decades did it stand as a colossal ruin against the skyline of the Hamlet of Enswerp, hidden within the flourish of shrubbery, to be left alone as it watches life go by. Slowly did the land that was once inhabitable turn into a capsule of yore. Haunted was it, for only ghosts took the role of denizen there, stuck in a period without no means of moving on. Paranormal activity seems prevalent in the area, and undetected. That was, until, now. The Lord of Alba invites the children across the realm to spend the night at Castle Arpacz — House Ivanovich's previous home — for a sleepover. Spine-tingling tales of ghouls & monsters shall be passed to those in attendance, as well an eventful few hours that surely will leave one petrified or thrilled. The more, the merrier; bring friends and relatives. In a land left in the hands of Mother Nature herself, who knows what may occur this fateful night? HIS ROYAL HIGHNESS, Charles Reman Alstion, the Lord of Alba & additional help from, HER LADYSHIP, Jadwiga Maria Jazlowiecki, Ward of Her Majesty, Queen-consort Amelya of Middelan
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