Wretched Aidan

He is Risen! Christ has paid the debt of His sheep, it is finished! 1 Peter 2:24 [24] He himself bore our sins in his body on the tree, that we might die to sin and live to righteousness. By his wounds you have been healed. John 20:11-18 Jesus Appears to Mary Magdalene [11] But Mary stood weeping outside the tomb, and as she wept she stooped to look into the tomb. [12] And she saw two angels in white, sitting where the body of Jesus had lain, one at the head and one at the feet. [13] They said to her, “Woman, why are you weeping?” She said to them, “They have taken away my Lord, and I do not know where they have laid him.” [14] Having said this, she turned around and saw Jesus standing, but she did not know that it was Jesus. [15] Jesus said to her, “Woman, why are you weeping? Whom are you seeking?” Supposing him to be the gardener, she said to him, “Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have laid him, and I will take him away.” [16] Jesus said to her, “Mary.” She turned and said to him in Aramaic, “Rabboni!” (which means Teacher). [17] Jesus said to her, “Do not cling to me, for I have not yet ascended to the Father; but go to my brothers and say to them, ‘I am ascending to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God.’” [18] Mary Magdalene went and announced to the disciples, “I have seen the Lord”—and that he had said these things to her. 1 Corinthians 15:55 [55] “O death, where is your victory? O death, where is your sting?”

MC Name: RedeemedAidan RP Name: Radu Persona ID: 85848

Radu smiled as he read the missive, folding it and tucking it away into his bag.

A RIPE HARVEST Baldwin within Valdev’s Gallows c. 1955 Baldwin awoke within the bushes just down the road of Valdev, a pen of animals not awfully far from him, before then immediately recalling the urge to slumber like no other that had overcome himself hours before. The Stassionite immediately began to free himself from the bush, his eyes rapidly blinking as he tried to force himself from his half-awaken daze, stumbling out of the bush before then rounding the corner of the animal pen, oblivious of those who awaited him.. “Halt in the name of King Aleksander!” - “Halt!” -“Hold it right there!” Men mounted upon steeds shouted, their Golden Hussar and Brotherhood of Saint Karl armor shimmering with the light that poured in between the leaves from the trees above. The men quickly charged their horses forth, gathering around him with blades drawn and shields raised, only providence could save the man now. The Knight’s hands quickly rose over his head, all possible ways of escape having been cut off, an “Oh my-” escaping his lips as his pallid blue hues eyed the blades at his waist, but it was a vein cause. “Good day!” The Knight said as his countenance raised toward a Ruthern man who had called out to him, “Prevja again,” to which Baldwin quickly remarked without a thump of his heart, “Greetings again good man,” Though it was clear the Ruthern’s comrades were not as keen to chit-chat, as they barked at him to drop his weapons, to which he obliged. Within mere moments of being stopped, Sir Baldwin found himself bound and hauled away to the gallows of Valdev. Baldwin sat there beside the blood stained gallows, his lips harshly pressed together and his gaze rose to the descending flakes of snow. Before the man could even take a moment to ponder, then came a voice from one of the Golden Hussars, Otto Ludovar, “As the Lord Speaker and Jovenaar of the Kingdom of Hanseti-Ruska, I sentence you to death by firing squad…” Baldwin then froze, his breathing coming to a halt and his mind beginning to race as his cruel and brutal fate was then revealed to him.“..You will be offered last rights-” Baldwin remained silent, yet a faint smile remained as he gave a solemn nod, his lips then cracking open to make a final request, “Might I make a final request?” - “What is it?”- “Allow me to write a final letter, might you? I may carry my blade in opposition, though might my final thoughts and thanksgivings be sent to those who are due them?” The bitter cold air then grew even more frigid as the Ludovar went to answer, “A soldier knows their fate when they step onto the battlefield.. Father, if you would.” Father Beaumont then stepped near to Baldwin as a voice cried, “BROTHERS! LINE UP!” followed by an, "AI!” A singular tear then formed in Baldwin’s eye as his countenance rose upward to the skies above, he then began to murmur, none hearing his words other than himself and the Father at his side. “This day, my blood shall join my brethren who went on before me.. May my life not be spent in vain, and let there be a ripe harvest..” The Priest then retrieved a vial of holy water, tracing the lorraine upon his chest. A Ruthern man's voice then carried upon the wind, “A bandit, rather.” This was then followed by further accusations, “He is a bandit!” Baldwin endured the slander, his eyes coming to a close, up until one uttered, “He came here to kill our women and children..” Baldwin’s features then distorted into disgust, as the Father began to grant him his rites, “Through this Holy anointing may the Creator in His love and mercy help you. May GOD who frees you from sin save you and raise you up in the Seven Skies. He patted the shoulder of the man, before speaking once again. “Do you have anything to confess?” Baldwin then softly muttered with what could only be described as grief, for these men knew him not for the man he was, though viewed him as but a bandit to be discarded, “I would never raise a blade against a woman nor a child... Father, this alone do I confess..” Baldwin then leaned forward to the Father, whispering something quietly to him, to which he responded, “Very well. Then may GOD bless you and may He make His face shine unto you, and be gracious to you. May He lift up His face unto you, and give to you peace.” The Father then quickly rushed away as the men retrieved their arrows, beginning to ready their bows.. Baldwin’s gaze once again rose to the skies above as he donned a smile upon his lips, six soft words escaping him as arrows began to soar through the frigid air, “Let there be… a ripe harvest.”

Viktor Ratispora went to collect his blade, blood was to be shed.

Sir Baldwin smiled as he looked upon the fields littered with corpses before then muttering to Jurkha, his brother in arms. "The Blood of Bretheren and Foe alike water the fields this day.. May the sacrifices of our brothers and the felling of our foes lead to a ripe harvest.. AVE STASSION, BLOOD FOR BRASCA!" @LordofCabbage

"Justice for Brasca! Ave Stassion!" Baldwin cheered between his own cheery and heartfelt laughter.

Sir Baldwin smiles as he reads over the missive. "May many wonderful things come forth from this.."

Baldwin smiled as he looked upon the completed Marcevna, keeping his gaze from moving toward the moat below filled with the bodies of the unfortunate laborers...

MC Name: RedeemedAidan RP Name: Sir Baldwin Persona ID: 85848

Sir Baldwin the Wanderer scratched his head as he tried to piece together the events that had occurred during his absence, only one thing was certain for the knight. "Whatever has transpired is truly a shame.."

Ser Viktor Ratispora smiled at the invitation before sniffling. ”It feels as if Istvan was but a young dzeckio only yesterday, now he jest getting married… how quickly time flies..” He murmured to himself.

Sir Baldwin smiles at the missive. "Our days of wayfaring have come to an end.. A home we have at last!"

A Long Awaited Union [!] A depiction of the soon to be newlyweds. To the citizens of Stran and Aaun, It is with great joy that we announce the upcoming union of Ser Viktor Ratispora and Miss Lina Wren. The ceremony shall take place in the afternoon of The Dark Cold in the Church of St. Theodosius. With that in mind, we invite you to join us in the witnessing and celebration of the couple's upcoming union! Special Invitation His Majesty, James Leopold, King of Aaun Her Majesty, Edith Klaire, Queen-Consort of Aaun Her Royal Highness, Adeline Johanna of Aaun His Grace, Jan Ivanovich, Duke of Stran, and his noble pedigree The Right Honorable, Waclaw Jazlovecki, Count of Warsovia, and his noble pedigree The Right Honorable, Isavella Jazovecki, Countess-Consort of Warsovia Her Excellency, Allessandra Amador His Lordship, Theoderic von Theonus Her Ladyship, Calla von Theonus His Lordship, Leutwin Barclay Ser Rassvet Senko Ser Miklós Korvacz and his esteemed pedigree Sir Peter von Stroheim Mister Paul Varoche Miss Holly Miss Eloise Veiel Miss Anya Volkov, and her esteemed pedigree Mister Pascal Petrov and his esteemed pedigree All citizens of the Duchy of Stran and other friends of the couple SIGNED, Ser Viktor Ratispora Knight of Bl. Istvan Miss, Lina Wren

ZAKONY VAŠKOVA LAWS OF THE VAŠKAN STEPPE By decree of, THE DUCHY OF STRAN In the year of, 1930 “No man can escape justice, whether they find such in this life or the next.” - Magistrate, Ser Viktor Ratispora, c. 1928 PREFACE Let it be known that to maintain order amongst the good folk of Stran, the Duke has decreed a series of fundamental laws to act as his will throughout his realm and any holdings of His Dynasty. His Grace has sought fit to appoint a Magistrate to act as Chief Justice in his stead. Should any dwelling within or passing through the lands of Stran break any of the Duke’s Laws, they shall meet an unforgiving fate. LAW OF THE COMMON STRELTSY The common law of the people, encompassing basic laws and rights of all who dwell on the Vaškan Steppe. Those who are outsiders within the lands are likewise subject to all of the laws of the Strelt, and the punishments for breaking them. I. Any individual found committing a treasonous act against the Duke and the Duchy of Stran shall be put to death. A treasonous act includes but is not limited to; insurrection, aiding and abetting enemies of the Duchy, sabotaging city defenses, murder or attempted murder of the Duke of Stran, the Duke’s family, and the Council of Stran, and lastly espionage and conspiracy against the Duchy. II. It is prohibited for any individual traveling through or living within the Duchy of Stran to wear any head covering, masks, or other articles of clothing and armor to conceal their identity. III. No individual within the Duchy of Stran may practice magic of any kind. IV. An individual may not collude or befriend darkspawn, Azdrazi, undead, or anything of foul nature. V. Any individual found guilty of committing any petty or major theft alike will face harsh sentences no matter the severity, at the behest of the Duke of Stran. VI. The murder or attempted murder of any individual is strictly prohibited and is punishable by death. VII. Any individual that harms another or threatens to harm another outside of self-defense shall be found guilty of Assault. VIII. Any individual who preaches against or attempts to convert a member of the faith within our borders, shall subsequently be labeled a heretic, enemy of the state, and put to death. IX. The defacement of buildings and walls is prohibited, as well as the destruction of property. X. A Strelt is required by law to serve in the Host of Saint Arpad, if the need should arise. XI. At least one individual from each noble household within the Duchy of Stran must serve the state in some capacity.

Pyotr Ludovar welcomes his cousin to the skies. "At last vy join us!"

PGK My dear mother, You were the very person who shaped and formed me into the very man I grew to be. When I first met you mother, I was but a small boy lacking a mother to cling to and having no bed to call his own. You gave me those things, in fact you gave me much more, despite your persistent doubts that always claimed otherwise, you gave me the world mom. I, in my later years, could only feel utter grief, and perhaps even anger when hearing your name, and seeing your flower. You were right, you weren't a perfect person, perhaps I would be so bold to say that you were far from it, but mother, I forgive you for all that you have done to me, father, and the rest of our family. I from the very day of receiving your ring, to the very day of writing this letter, have bore your ring with me. Just as it meant uttermost to you, so has it meant uttermost to me. I did what I did best, mother. Oh, and remember history tends to repeat itself. Love, Aldrych Arthur Komnenos To my father, It pains me to add another son to the list of the lost, but I suppose that is how life goes Father. I, ever since my youth to this very day, have been in utter adoration of you, of your resilience through all of the suffering endured through your very long life. Observing such resilience in your life, had pushed me time and time again through some of the toughest times, and dimmest of hours. Though father, I do regret this, I regret the negligence of our relationship and I regret not making a final visit. Thank you for all you have done, Love, Aldrych Laurelai Holly To my beloved niece, Oh Laurelai, where am I to begin? I have so much I would like to write to you in this letter, though for the sake of time itself, I will keep it short. Laurelai, ever since I had first met you in the thicket in Balian all those years ago, you have been like a ray of constant flowing sunshine. As I said before, I am immensely proud of you and all the work you have done as a medic, as a mother, as a sibling and everything else kiddo. I know I revealed to you my plans, though after our final discussion, I have had a change of heart Laurelai. I hope you will grow to forgive me for not sticking around long enough to meet your kiddo’s, and I hope also that you will forgive me for not having you here for my grand goodbye. And figure things out with your brother won't you? Keep up the hard word Laurelai, I know you will Love, Uncle Aldrych Timothy Komnenos Timmy, I am forever sorry for the harshness I treated you with when you approached me in that dreaded cave. I, as your Uncle should have never treated you in such a way, even considering the circumstance. I’m sorry I didn't stick around long enough to see your dispute with Laurelai settled. Though even in my absence, be strong and do what you know you must. Know that I love and care for you kiddo. Love, Uncle Aldrych Jarad Munnel Dear Jarad, I am forever grateful for what you have done for me throughout my life. I thank you for taking me in all those years ago in my hours of uttermost need, and all that you have done for me since then. You have been to me like a Father, going to the point of adopting me into your own lineage. For such I am forever grateful. I am ever proud of you for all the work, sweat, and tears you have put into Helious, to ensure that people may have somewhere to rest their burdens. I hope I upheld my oath well. Remember to rest, and farewell Love, Aldrych Ember Munnel Dear Sister, I am sorry to put you through such a pain, of losing one of your few human siblings. Though, I have chosen to be selfish, a thing I tried to be abstinent from, but, I cannot abstain from it any longer. I’m sorry our plans did not come to frutition. Continue doing what you do best, Love, Your Brother Hera Munnel Hera, Ever since The Empire, you have been a faithful and wonderful friend. You had done for me a great lot, you gave me a shoulder to lean upon during the darkest hours, and a friend to rely on in times of trouble. You had saved my life an immeasurable amount of times, and for that, your friendship, and everything else I’m forever grateful. Though I’m sorry that you couldn't save me this final time. Keep an eye on Jared will you? Don’t let him overwork himself as is his tendency. Oh and, remember those matching set of blades we had? Quite the memorable set, well, it would be a shame if mine went without use, so as you gave it to me all those years ago, I suppose it’s time I have it returned to you. Continue doing what you do best Hera, and keep your head up high Love, Aldrych Agatha Hope Agatha, Don’t fret, all will be okay, wounds will heal, and the melodies of the birds will return again. I am proud of the Lady that you have become my little sister, know that. I am utterly sorry that I can no longer burden you with the loud melody of my piano, but be hopeful, the melody may be gone for now, but you will hear it again, I promise. Keep up the hard work Agatha, you have tons of potential Love, Eric James Vursur James, The purest of names. Oh Friend, you were right, I should never have wished to take upon myself a curse and deem it a blessing. Thank you, for not allowing me to continue on in my daft ignorance, and for being a Friend. I feared the taste of death, I feared that I would become just another page in the history books, I didn’t wish to be forgotten. Though, I fear not any longer. I am content with the life I have now lived, and I now await to play that wonderful tune a final time and rest at last. Remember the story of the boy who gifted me that chest plate in that distant hamlet? I wish for that to go to you James, use it to inspire others, as it inspired me. Oh, and I hope you have enjoyed those Henry Penton books, keep them in fine shape! That is a name you must make sure isn’t lost to the waves of time. With Grand Rejoicing, Aldrych Gendik Theo Starling & Vakas Jusmia Battle Brothers! Oh how great an honor it was to fight alongside the both of you defending what we loved and cared for! I hoped to fight alongside you both a final time, though it seems that life has had something else in mind. Keep fighting, Aldrych Mirabeth Mirabeth, I hope you will one day have such a grand mass of helms and hats that not even a dozen palaces could hold them all. You got what it takes, kid. I’m sorry I couldn’t uphold my end of the promise. Al Leutwin Barclay Kid, I forgive you, don't you fret, In your words, Sweet Old Man Aldrych

The Final Verse TW: Attempted Suicide Sel Aldrych on his seventieth birthday, his staff resting in his grasp. c. 1929 Aldrych sat himself down upon his piano bench as was his habit and his common hobby. The aged pianist raised his pale, thin, sickly hands toward his vast collection of sheet music, flipping through the pages fervently before stopping upon the piece most beloved to him, ‘She Has Left Me My Golden Rose. by Henry Penton’. The piece had always been a place he resorted to in times of need of comfort, in times that he longed for peace. This day was another one of those days. “Soft dew on the ground rests on my weary eyes!” Aldrych’s hands glided across the piano keys as he began playing the old Orenian tune. Though as the first sentence of the piece left his lips, Aldrych was met suddenly with tears, his eyes beginning to swell with grief. The Lyric was ever true, the Knight was weary, broken, some might even say he was crushed under the weight of the world, the weight of life, and all of the grievances that came alongside it. Aldrych’s hands suddenly came to a pause, resting in their places upon the keys, the entirety of his home suddenly going quiet. As he began to ponder, “When was the last time I had joy? Peace?” He began to search through his mind, through his memory, in search of an answer, he was determined to find one. He searched and searched, but was only met with memories of grief. It had been over two decades since his beloved brother, Thomas, was discovered upon the road, bloodied, bruised, and lifeless, assumed to have been done at the hand of bandits. Ever since then his health had dove into a decline, making it impossible for the man to uphold his duties and responsibilities, robbing him of much joy as everyday was truly a fight. It had been nearly half of a century since he had last laid his eyes upon his mother, someone he had utterly adored before his perception of her was utterly crushed and diminished in the recent years. Though his ponderings were then cut short as his hands began to subconsciously move across the keys once more, the next sentence spilling from his lips. “Soft dew on my cheek as I make my goodbyes!” “I lack joy, peace, and purpose. I’m but a relic of old.. And it is my turn to be forgotten...” Aldrych mumbled as his hands left the piano keys, grabbing ahold of his staff - which had served as a trusty friend to him throughout the years - and rising from the piano bench, leaving his music open above the piano keys. Despite his hands leaving the keys, the song played on within his mind. The somber pianist slowly drudged his way across his home, reaching a closet. Aldrych swung the closet door open and stepped into it, rummaging through it before he found what he was in search for, a stack of letters he had prepared over the course of the recent months. He then set them upon his kitchen table as a tear sprung down upon his cheek. His goodbyes were made. “Our nights not forgotten. Our time has drawn closed. Although I may seem to you truly composed. My feelings of grief I shall never disclose..” The Door to Aldrych’s home then slowly began to open, the sick man emerging from it with his staff in hand, and his cloak upon his back, softly beating in the wind as he closed the door behind him, beginning his final trudge down the path. “It is all to be over soon.. I am coming home Thomas, I have waited long enough.” As he trudged down the path he began to reminisce upon the life he had lived, both joyful and grim moments alike. He thought back to the day he believed to have been the greatest day of his life. The day he was granted to take up his mother’s maiden name, Gendik. He couldn’t help but smile at the fine memory as he trudged on. Though just as the fond memories came to mind, so did the foul. He remembered it as if it had happened but a few days ago. The bird swooping down and landing upon his shoulder, bearing a letter that read. ‘Dear Brother, return home and make haste to the attic! We must further your training. - Charles Komnenos’ He remembered how quickly he had ran home, swinging upon the door of Ivonavich IV, with utter excitement and ignorant bliss. Ascending the stairs with such haste, and entering the lift, overjoyed that his brother found him fit to continue his apprenticeship. Though his blissful mood suddenly changed as he stepped out of the lift leading to the attic. He was met by a figure adorned in leather armor, from head to toe, the face of the figure unseen. Before he could think to react, to run, a dagger plunged into his neck. Aldrych went to let out a cry, but nothing sounded forth. In sheer panic he drew his blade, throwing it at the figure who delivered such a fatal blow, before holding at his own neck both of his hands quickly bloodying as the figure spoke. ‘I am sorry brother.. But you failed, you were not good eno… Aldrych’s reminiscing and trudging suddenly came to a halt as he found his gaze looking down upon the waters of Helious. It was time. “Now old and alone, I sit bitter and chilled. Sweet would be death, for you I am thrilled!” Aldrych’s eyes began to swell with tears at the beauty of the scene below, at the mere beauty of creation. Aldrych lifted up his hand, wiping his tears away from his eyes, before deciding to release his staff, allowing it to rest upon the ledge of the cliff. He reached into his pocket, pulling forth a folded handkerchief, a barely visible signature embroidered in it’s corner H.M. He quickly wiped his tears from his cheek, before unfolding the handkerchief, wanting to adore its craftsmanship a final time. Though as he unfolded the handkerchief, he was met by something unexpected. Wrapped up within the worn handkerchief was a ring, with sunflower jewels, glinting under the rays of the sun. Upon seeing the piece of jewelry, he smiled, though his smile was short lived as regret suddenly displayed over his features as he clenched the ring and handkerchief in his fist, “I don’t wish to depart!” Aldrych’s knees began to tremble due to the absence of the support that his staff provided. Before a mere moment could even pass, his knees gave out and he descended from the ledge, into the depths below. . . [!] Various letters were distributed to their respective recipients.

Ser Viktor Ratispora skimmed over the pamphlet in the Andregrad tavern as the folk rejoiced over the promotion to Duchy! "Dobry job Comrade.. Ney only z vy a dobry story-teller, but a dobry-author to da!"

Ser Viktor Ratispora smiled at the notice, excited for his dear friend's union!

“Aye! It looks loike it, s’pose we’s got tae make ah trip back tae Balian..” Ser Trumbehrt ‘The Dropped’ remarked in return. @Optimus420

Ser Viktor Ratispora smiled at the invitation, glad that his close friend's special day had arrived at last!

Ser Viktor Ratispora picks up a copy of the Vaskan Chronicles, reading over it with delight!

Aldrych smiles.