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ratlordmagic

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Posts posted by ratlordmagic

  1.  

     

    Peace at Last (PK)

     

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    When he awoke, the world was hazy. Waclaw Jazlowiecki descended from his bedroom in Nowa Warsovia, his limbs moving as if through syrup. He was dying, this much he knew. It had been a long time coming, he could only elude the embrace of eternity for so long. His mind began to wander, the events of his life playing out once more in his mind. Faces not seen so long they had almost been forgotten wormed their way into his memory once more. Scenes long since relegated to dreams and nightmares, re-enacted in a shadowy pantomime. He-

     

    -ran along a bustling city street, eager to catch up with his companions. “Eloise, Isa, wait up!” He called after them, lagging behind but running as fast as his five year old legs would carry him. “Hurry it up, Ginger!” The blonde girl called back. “We’re all meeting at the fountain!” His brothers, Aleksander and Witold, had teased him relentlessly for befriending girls, but he didn’t care, if Aleks tried anything Waclaw could just put him in the mud. Again. He rounded one more corner in Minitz, coming to a stop at the fountain and taking a deep breath. He-

     

    -held his sword tightly, looking up at his Father. Swords flashed against firelight in the night, steel clanging against steel in the all-too familiar cacophony of battle. This was… Adria. He would have recognized the surrounding city anywhere. It was the site of his first battle, after all. Men cut down in fruitless assaults on the castle, Adrians slaughtered in counterattacks, all culminating in the final, desperate sally that pushed the men of Haense and Aaun from the city. The twelve year-old boy had done his duty that day though, and most of the blood on his armor was not his. He-

     

    -cringed as the Mori’quessir cannon blasted another chunk of the wall away. He was running out of cover. He had come up to Norland against all common sense to help his friend Rosalind in, what he hoped, would stem the tide of the growing invasion of Almaris. It appeared increasingly hopeless as yet another chunk of wall disappeared in a clash of stone and iron. “PULL BACK FROM THE WALLS!” A voice rang out. A scared, desperate voice. They were all scared, he supposed, some were just better at hiding it. He didn’t want to be scared, he hated that he was scared, but these Legionnaires seemed damn near invincible. Then, almost as if on cue, a hulking figure crossed into his view, a Dreadknight- a creature of nothing but armor and foul magic. They all pulled back towards the gate of the city, making a final stand by a massive tree. He needed to survive this, to get back home. After all, his father- 

     

    -Gestured to Waclaw from the Comital throne of Warsovia. “And so-” His father’s powerful voice rang out throughout the packed hall. “-I am, as of today, abdicating in favor of my eldest son, Waclaw Jakub Jazlowiecki.” Waclaw, only fourteen, was taken completely by surprise and made his way to the foot of the throne that was, inexplicably, his. “Friends, citizens, and all gathered today-” He began apprehensively. “-I was not expecting this honor. However, I accept it. I will lead our people into a new chapter. An era of peace and prosperity. I gratefully honor the trust you all have placed in me and will do my utmost to ensure that my reign is a Boon-

     

    -LOAD UP THAT PLATE!” His cousin called over the sound of battle below. They were in Karosgrad, holding the Harbor gate against the Mori assault. Yet another infantry formation was reduced to paste by the combined cannonfire provided by the Lechian Artillerymen. Things were going… refreshingly smooth. Nation after nation had fallen, and Haense was the last human nation worth defending that remained free. Four years passed since he first fought them in Norland and he had fought in damn near every battle since. Exactly one positive thing had come in the last few years- Isavella. She had gone missing while hunting and only recently stumbled back home. He… had been holding onto feelings for her. If he made it out of this, he’d act on them. But first he had to survive this fight. “Aleks!” He called. “Swing to the right! We need to hammer that damn siege bug!” The cannon fired once more, right into the mouth of the Devourer of Dobrov, causing the monstrous creature to flee underground with a shriek. They had bought themselves even longer to ensure the evacuation’s success. With a nod of satisfaction, he wiped the sweat and grime from his face. “Right. Now for the next problem.” He sighed. The Count of Warsovia-

     

    -stared out over the Failor countryside, the township slowly rising around them. After narrowly surviving the Fall of Almaris, he had begun working with the house Ivanovich to build a new home in safety, away from the hell that their continent had become. The Lecho-Raev Commonwealth had been an experiment for him, the first real test of his leadership, one he’d liked to believe he passed with flying colors. Nonetheless, he couldn’t shake the feeling-

     

    -Of nervousness growing in the pit of his stomach as he stood before Karl and Annette, Isavella’s parents. “I… would ask your blessing to marry Isavella.” He finally said. They had been courting, both officially and not, since just after the Battle of Karosgrad, and he decided it was finally time to make it official. He was nervous, however, until the older Waldenian man smiled and the woman embraced him. “Treat her right.” Karl requested, a command Waclaw had no intention of disobeying. He nodded-

     

    -“I do.” He said to the priest, holding his Isavella’s hand as the priest performed the rites of marriage.  His eyes flicked out over the small crowd in the chapel, family and friends. Eloise, Calla, Theoderic, Artel… all people he was honored to have at his side. “Then-” the priest began. “-I now pronounce you husband and wife.” Waclaw smiled and leaned in, sealing the ceremony with a kiss. Isavella was his wife. Despite being a hardened veteran of a dozen battles already, he felt giddy. He-

     

    -smiled proudly, holding the squirming infant, his and Isavella’s first child. They had named her Roza, after Rosalind who they both had believed died a few years before. He would make sure this child of theirs would make sure never knew the chaos and war they did. She would live in a time of peace and happiness. After all, the role of a parent was to ensure their child lived a better life than they did. And, god-

     

    -As my witness, I will dutifully serve the Crown of Aaun to my utmost for as long as I live.” He repeated alongside the other two men knelt before their King. Their ruler smiled at the three. “Rise, knights of Aaun. May you hold your oaths.” Waclaw felt a sense of satisfaction as he accepted the title, knowing he had done his part. Two decades of fighting battles for King and Country. Things had been moving steadily uphill for both him and his country since they had first settled on Aevos, and now he was at the apex of his life. He knew not what the future held, but he would take it in stride. He had his duty to perform, and he would see it done even if it cost his life. The-

     

    -smell of the dead bodies littering the streets of Whitespire was nearly overwhelming. The scene inside the Council chambers had been predictably terrible. King Edmund, Waclaw’s cousin Heinrich, his friend and commander Leopold, all dead. Betrayal and blind fury grappled within his mind as he roamed the blood-soaked streets. Light glinted off something familiar. No… it couldn’t be. However, unwillingly, he moved to investigate the object. Much to his horror, it… it was. His wife’s necklace, a gift he had given her. A third emotion entered the brawl for control of his mind. Anguish. He cradled his wife’s body, holding her wordlessly as tears, long since thought dried up, began to flow. How would he explain this to their children? Roza was practically attached at the hip to her mother, a veritable clone but without Isavella’s ferocity. Krzysztof would likely take it better, but… there’s no way to take news of your mother’s death well. He sheathed his sword-

     

    -coming to a standstill next to his King, John of Aaun. Veletz, the successor of Adria, and likely ultimate mastermind of the attempted coup that had claimed the lives of so many, was finally surrendering after a long and brutal war. With this foe gone, maybe he could finally rest. War had been what he knew, what he had excelled at even, but now he just felt… empty. Like a bowl long since drained of any contents. Some vestiges of what once were remained, but he was, for lack of a better word, finished. He had instructed that his notice of abdication be published after the Veletzian capital was demolished, and he intended to make full use of his retirement. He-

     

    -reached the bottom of the stairs. He was old by now. Older than any member of his family that he had truly known. He sat himself down in a chair by the fire and reached for a quill and parchment. He began to write, excising in detail his final goodbyes to those he was leaving behind. His hand wasn’t cooperating nearly as much as he’d like. He felt tired, fog beginning to cloud his vision. He shook his head, clearing it slightly. If he fell asleep now, he wouldn’t wake up. He wrote as if he had no more time left which, in honesty, he didn’t. The last letter finally finished and sealed, he sighed and relaxed. The quill fluttered to the floor beside him. He took a breath and smiled.

     

    And he knew peace.


     

    Requiescat In Pace: Waclaw Jakub Jazlowiecki (1908-1973)

     

     

     

    The Following letters are addressed and delivered in private, do not metagame this information.

     

    To Krzysztof Jazlowiecki ( @Traveller): 

    Spoiler

    Krzysztof-

     

    I owe you more apologies than I can fit onto a piece of paper. I'm sorry for not being around for you. I'm sorry for not being the father you deserved. I'm sorry you had to lose your mother so young while your father went off to play soldier one more time. You have made me unspeakably proud in how you have stepped into your role as Count. Know that I could not have asked for a better son. I leave to you my Greatsword, Traitorslayer. It bears an enchantment placed upon it in days long past. I know you will wield it well. Reign wisely, and reign long. Live the life you would be proud of your Grandchildren telling to their own children and never take peace for granted. I love you. 

     

     

    To Calla and Eloise von Theonus ( @carebear& @Rosey):

    Spoiler

    Calla and Eloise- 

     

    If you're seeing this, then it means I've passed on. We've seen hell together and come out the other side, but time eventually comes for us all. I'm afraid I won't be joining you for that bar crawl. I treasure the decades we've spent together, and I hope you both spend your lives in the peace we didn't know in our youths. Isa and I will be waiting for you on the other side. 

     

    To Marisol Solis ( @beetle):

    Spoiler

    Mari- 

     

    Sorry to leave like this, but I know you can take care of yourself by now. You've become so capable all on your own, and I can say without doubt that your mother would be so proud of you. Just keep going, I know you'll be handle to whatever comes your way. 

     

    ----------------------

     

    Spoiler

    Hey y'all. This is my first time doing one of these. Waclaw has been such a huge part of my life since I picked him up and it is NOT fun having to say goodbye, but all good things must come to an end. I'd like to thank @Olox_ for taking a chance on me and letting me have this character to do whatever with. Special thanks to the Jazlo crew, @Traveller, @PecenyRohlik, @Mykei, and @Travisty for bearing with my incessant clownery. And, of course, to the Top G's, @Itz_Cookie, @beetle, @carebear, @Rosey, @Tremerus, and @Destructokeith. Last but not least, all the other friends who don't fit into the other groups, @comatoseprincess, @PufferfishTrash, @Ramon, and everyone else I forgot to mention by name. Love you all, and thanks for going on this wild ride with me. O7

  2. Swords Into Plowshares

    Writ of Abdication

     

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    Penned by Count Waclaw Jakub Jazlowiecki

    in the year of our Lord, 1966

     

     


     

    It was nearly fifty years ago when my father summoned an Impromptu meeting of the House and its many allies. It was upon that day that I ascended to become Count of Warsovia, a title I have held since I was but a youth of Fourteen. In my long tenure, I have seen and endured much- The Adrian Uprising. The Mori Invasions. The Frankish Wars. The perfidious attempted coup headed by Stassion and the subsequent war against Veletz. Yet one thing has been a near-constant throughout: War. It is my earnest and true belief that the times of war are behind us and that a time of prosperity lies ahead. That being said, I am not the right man to lead Warsovia and the Lechian people into this bright new dawn. As we cast aside our swords in pursuit of peace, it is altogether fitting and proper that I, too, stand aside and make way for a new generation of leadership. With this new peace that dawns upon us, let the young, those untainted by decades of conflict and cynicism, guide the destiny of our great realm. It is their world now and it is high time they lead it. 

     

    Thusly, I, Waclaw Jakub Jazlowiecki, being of sound mind and body, do as of the publishing of this missive, abdicate my position as Count of Warsovia in favor of my son and heir, Krzysztof Pawel Jazlowiecki. May God guide him and grant him a long, fruitful reign. 

     

    ZmwOGeeHUkS5pyN1YB0UdQ0dWHNvIkDegVn-2c-_Zd3qNJ8TVmc_Ky71S5Gz7dwXqYVW-nq6mKqIz1OkKnTbcgmObwIHkMuZDjdT3hoX4IDEr81iKjeak7FrGXHoLQ2GL4KGlt9SeXihtH3lHLYsn1k

     


     

    W IMIĘ BOŻE

    Waclaw Jakub Jazlowiecki

    THE RIGHT HONOURABLE, Waclaw of House Jazlowiecki, Count of Warsovia, Grand Master of the Knightly Circle of Saint Godwin

  3. Another candle snuffed. Another light, permanently extinguished. Karl had been one of the greatest men Ser Waclaw Jazlowiecki had known- the kind to define a generation, one the world was going to sorely miss in the coming years as peace once more settled upon the continent. He smiled upon reading his late father-in-law’s letter. “Know that what you’ve built will endure, long after we are all but dust. That is the greatest legacy to which a man can aspire. Rest well, Karl. God knows you’ve earned it.”

  4. Ser Waclaw Jazlowiecki scoffed. “A false pretense for an even falser uprising. If they so dearly want to see their homes burnt, then they shall have their wish. Our peace will not be so easily broken. Any man who would take a Lich at their word is a fool, darkspawn sympathizer, or both.”

  5. Ser Waclaw Jazlowiecki tightened his grip on his antique Greatsword, named “Traitorslayer”, as he read the objective. Stassion. He had sworn, years ago, to not rest until that accursed keep had been reduced to naught but a pyre for those taken by its denizen’s hands. He had fought through years of this grinding war, seeking the day he can finally avenge himself upon the traitors and would-be usurpers. Now the time was at hand. Perhaps after this he would find the closure he desperately sought. Perhaps after this he could finally rest. Perhaps.

  6. Ser Waclaw Jazlowiecki gave a solemn nod upon reading the Petran account of the events. That… sounded infinitely more likely, to be blunt. He remembered how less than a year before another Stassion man had made an attempt on the life of King Edmund. Either the crownless king in Stassion needed to do a much better job of vetting soldiers or something truly foul was afoot. He took out two rolls of parchment and began to pen two letters- One to his Alstreim cousin and one to his Von Theonus nephew. Something needed to be done to reign Stassion in.

  7. MC Name:

             ratlordmagic_

     

    Character's Name:

             Alden Hargrave

     

    Character's Age:

             45

     

    What feat(s) will you be learning?

             Alchemy

     

    Teacher's MC Name:

             Gregorious

     

    Teacher's RP Name:

             Me_llamo1

     

    Do you agree to keep Story updated on the status of your feat app?:

             Yes

     

    Have you applied for this feat on this character before, and had it denied? If so, link the app:

             No

     

    Are you aware that if this feat is shelved, it will be unavailable to use?

             Yes

     

  8. 3 minutes ago, marikandaperc said:

    1: I'll start this by explaining that Avalon is not at all involved. I simply rp with Callahan on basically all my personas which is not really against the rules.

    I was the one oocly posting the summonings because Callahan himself (at the time, he was grand prior of the holy order) does not have a working forum account. It was signed by Avalon because she is a sergeant of said holy order, but ultimately she doesn't really care and I have hardly ever rpd that out (if not ever)

    2: Suspicious, there has been a long lived hunt for this vampire (just as there is for any vampire, and she was not the only one summoned) by Angelica (who I roleplayed with under different names, such as Basilia) and she has always thought her a vampire/blood mage/necromancer. If you see the rp logs from yesterday, you will see her yelling that she could possibly be a necromancer or undead, because she had killed her just a year or two prior.

    3: Cooperation; it's not that I did not want to cooperate, I simply didn't see the point in discussing it in dms. You will see in the posted screenshots that I am taking a step back from the ooc side of LOTC (left every discord) because it brings me stress. I believe a well formatted report like this would solve the situation easily. 

    I hope this answered all posed questions, if not I will make another reply.

    1. This does not address or explain at all why her name is on the report and why you posted it. Her name being on the report and you posting it involves her in the roleplay.

    2. Suspicions based on what evidence? I can count on one hand the number of times I have seen Coma's persona in Aaun period, let alone interacting with people. Typically to have a suspicion against somebody you need a justifiable reason to suspect them.

    3. Yeah, fair enough.

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