RingAroundRosey

A newly titled Baroness scans the missive times over as she rocks gently in the chair. A bit to her left was her partner and in front of her, her daughter. Both in a deep slumber, nothing but quiet snores and the creaking of the wood floors. She would smile and whisper a small "Thank you, mother. I will do my best - I promise." Amidst all the conflict, there was hope. The small mercies in life.

Louna found out the news of his passing from the Patriarch, in a missive he had sent out. Cold. All she could feel was that chill, quite the opposite of the choked up heat that rises from her throat to her head. What was this feeling? Was it grief? Not entirely, not in the way that her uncle would be feeling it. The painful truth was she didn't have the time to have known her cousin Rossano in a depth she wished she did. Of course she had loved him as family would, but he was always just out of reach. A wandering soul on the path of holiness. She left him to that, she wanted him to have peace. But not like this. This was a burning failure in her chest. She had lost family at a time that was too soon. That warning flashed in her mind from long ago. 'You can't fail'. She went to find her hunting supplies. It was time to plan a funeral.

The Leuven heiress could only stare at the missive. She felt this oddness, an emptiness. The missive is carried with her as she wanders her homeland, carefully tucked under her plate.

"A wonderful retelling. I wonder if I could grab a copy..." The future baronness would hum. A story written by one of her dearest friends. A story in which she could pass onto her children.

IN-GAME NAME: RingAroundRosey DISCORD: ringaroundrosey PERSONA NAME: Louna Marie van Leuven BRIEF DESCRIPTION OF YOUR INTENDED PERFORMANCE: A solo

𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔖𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔢𝔯 𝔗𝔦𝔡𝔢 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔚𝔦𝔫𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔐𝔬𝔬𝔫 Issued by House van Leuven C. 572 E.S. ꒰ ♱ ⊱─────────⊰ ✶ ⊱─────────⊰ ♱ ꒱ The rain hit hard against the cobble in the square of New Valdev. There stood a little girl in full blue sarafan, twin braids poking out from the hood she wore. She was squinting at the rain, and being not even close in age to traveling home herself, she awaited family or a servant to come fetch her. A boy dressed in rags stood in the rain, mud clinging to his worn pants. He would only hold that of a simple basket, his eyes lost as they dart around the square. “Vy know vy can catch a cold if vy stand out in the rain, that is what mea mamej says.” She repeated, her wrapped head shaking lightly. Compared to the boy, it was clear she was from at least a well-off family. A sound round of nods came from him then, and a glance sent along to her and her attire. He cleared his throat once more and offered forth the basket. “Alms?” - “For the church?” “What are alms….?” She murmured curiously, her gaze lifting up to the boy then trailing down - to the basket. “Vy… are a part of the church? Who do vy learn from… Ea have niet met many church people!” She admits, her tone not interrogating but simply curious. The boy shook his ratty head of hair, jingling about the basket once more. “Money, things like that.” She'd see a coin or two- perhaps three.. each in varying condition “Nie, not yet.” - “But Eam going to hand it t'them. When I do.” After that, the two were inseparable. An acolyte who used to cower within the little moon’s shadow eventually found his place to stand tall. No longer would he cower behind her but stand beside her. In her impulsiveness, he reminded her to think before acting. In her panic, he reminded her to breathe before trying to push forward. She would remind him to loosen up when he felt the weight upon his shoulders. She would remind him to keep close the little things that made life that much more special. Two souls who were different in more ways than in common. Two souls who were bonded far before that of any feelings. ✶ They married on a whim after a few years of their courtship trials being done. Louna had become impatient, as she usually did, and Matteo had followed her whim with a smile - as he usually did. ꒰ ♱ ⊱─────────⊰ ✶ ⊱─────────⊰ ♱ ꒱ Scelera non nostrorum ꒰ ♱ ⊱─────────⊰ ✶ ⊱─────────⊰ ♱ ꒱ It is with pride that House van Leuven extends invitations for the wedding reception of Her Ladyship, Louna Marie van Leuven, Heiress of Furentaliz, and His Lordship, Matteo van Leuven. Festivities include a mighty feast in celebration, wine made from their vineyard, teas of a fruit variety, and plenty of music and fun! The main event includes the traditional grape stomp, where the bride donns her wedding gown and starts the process of wine making. It symbolizes of good fortune and happiness for the newlyweds! ꒰ ♱ ⊱─────────⊰ ✶ ⊱─────────⊰ ♱ ꒱ Formal invitations are graciously extended to… His Royal Majesty, Joren I, King of Hanseti-Ruska and his royal pedigree @erictafoya Her Ladyship, Ipera vas Ruthern, Lady-Regent of Vidaus and her noble pedigree @libertyybelle His Grace, Sigmund Ludovar, Duke of Kvasz and his noble pedigree @Legoboy7984 The Most Honourable, Davyd Colborn, Margrave of Kazan and his noble pedigree @JuliusAakerlund The Right Honourable, Duncan Baruch, Count of Ayr and his noble pedigree @Pureimp10 Their Right Honourable, Andrei and Dima Kortrevich, Count and Countess of Krusev and their noble pedigree @Gandhi@Frawlic The Right Honourable, Karl Weiss, Viscount of Novkursain and his noble pedigree @CasChaos The Right Honourable, Nerida Amador, Viscountess of Zvezlund and her noble pedigree @Melpomenne The Right Honorable, Dszamila Korvacz, Viscountess of Koppány and her noble pedigree @pomegrad The Honorable, Varon Kovachev, Baron of Kovgrad and his noble pedigree @Herod The Honourable, Istvan Ivanvoich, Baron of Basarab and his noble pedigree @North The Honourable, Evelina Valkonen, Baroness of Karoswald and her noble pedigree @Emmmm Personal Invitations are graciously extended to... Her Majesty, Nadya of Novkursain, extended kin and friend @sarahbarah Lord Palatine, Tomasz, friend of the family @garentoft Grand Lord, Anaksandr Amador, friend of the family @Koodini Lord, Odrin Otto Baruch, friend of the family @Phersades Lady, Mikhaila Colborn, friend of the family @krispeechips Lord, Sigmar var Ruthern, friend and uncle @Terry Lady, Katerina vas Ruthern, friend of the family @_CraftyFox_ Ser, Godferik, friend of the family @TheBreak Lady, Primrose Kortrevich, extended kin and friend @LuxyLucy Lady, Moryana Amador, friend of the family @Divinational Lord, Petyr Weiss, extended kin and friend @_yink_ Lord, Aleksandr d’Arkent, friend of the family @lalo Patriarch-Cardinal, Alaric, friend of the family @Lortime Firress, Malna Loa’chil, friend of the family @KillerMaid Firr, Thráinn Frársson, friend of the family @SimplySeo Firress,Yelizaveta, friend of the family @retro SIGNED, The Honorable, Adelina Claire van Leuven, Baroness of Furentaliz, Matriarch van Leuven Her Ladyship, Louna Marie van Leuven, Heiress of Furentaliz His Lordship, Matteo van Leuven

Louna remembers standing the alley, assisting Elia on which to pick. A smile as she got to work so quickly! "Always a passionate and hard worker..." A murmur, before stepping off to dig for fabrics!

Louna van Leuven would do a little dance, excitement filling her features as she peers upon the missive. A masquerade, right up her alley! Meanwhile, Verena offers that of a small smile at the event. She was glad to see events blossoming once more. She was proud.

Louna sees yet another one of her friends get/getting married! Although she was incredibly happy and grateful for her friend and her union, she takes a breath - and represses the urge to slam her head into the wall. The envy...

ISSUED BY THE HONOURABLE 19th of Tov & Yermey | 568 E.S 𝕷𝖆𝖇𝖔𝖗𝖘 𝖔𝖋 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝕷𝖎𝖔𝖓 ⋅ ───────────────⊱༺༻⊰─────────────── ⋅ In collaboration with the Lady Chamberlain, House Weiss is ecstatic to announce a series of challenges issued by the elder generation in order to celebrate the centennial of the Viscounty of Novkursain. Each member who had chosen to participate shall present their challenge individually. A sort of trophy piece significant to each challenge shall be awarded to the winner, as well as a cash prize to go along with it. Everyone, no matter what walk of life, is invited to join in on these competitions! ⋅ ───────────────⊱༺༻⊰─────────────── ⋅ 𝕬𝖗𝖈𝖍𝖊𝖗'𝖘 𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖑𝖑𝖊𝖓𝖌𝖊 The first competition, hosted by Lady Verena Weiss, will come to call all those who wish to prove any sort of archery skill. Competitors are asked to bring that of their own crafted bows. However, it is to be noted that bows must be that of a regular variety for any sort of additions will be seen as unfair and have the participant disqualified. Whoever can prove that of decent bow craftsmanship and use said bow to clear the most rings shall be announced the victor! There will be a special prize also awarded to that who the Lady Weiss deems as most creative with the customization of their bow. ⋅ ───────────────⊱༺༻⊰─────────────── ⋅ 𝕸𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙𝖆𝖎𝖓'𝖘 𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖑𝖑𝖊𝖓𝖌𝖊 The second competition, hosted by Viscount Karl Weiss, will be that of a test of endurance. A simple task but one not to be taken lightly. Whoever can make it up the mountain in the fastest time shall be named the victor of the competition. Like the previous competition, a special prize will be offered for the person who climbs the mountain with the most style! Whether it be awe inspiring, creative or simply comedic - the only rule is to get your body up the mountain. Note that no use of tools that could render the challenge unfair can be used. Failure to comply will result in being disqualified. ⋅ ───────────────⊱༺༻⊰─────────────── ⋅ 𝕾𝖆𝖎𝖓𝖙'𝖘 𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖑𝖑𝖊𝖓𝖌𝖊 The last challenge will call to those who are well known in the history of the Canonist Saints and Scrolls. This challenge will be hosted by the house matriarch Lady Sabine Weiss. Whoever can answer the most trivia questions correctly shall be named the victor of this challenge. As with the others, whoever is deemed with the most creative answer by Lady Sabine shall be offered a special prize. ⋅ ───────────────⊱༺༻⊰─────────────── ⋅ 𝕱𝖊𝖆𝖘𝖙 𝖔𝖋 𝖆 𝕳𝖚𝖓𝖉𝖗𝖊𝖉 𝖄𝖊𝖆𝖗𝖘 After the challenges, all participants and guests are welcome to partake in the Feast of a Hundred Years, celebrating over a century since His Royal Majesty Georg I bestowed the Viscounty of Novkursain unto the House of Weiss. The House will serve traditional dishes from the House’s Waldenian, Farfolk, and Highlander heritages, with the challenge’s champions having first pick of the feast. ───────────────────────────── LEKONSKED VA VE LVINYY, The Right Honourable, KARL WEISS, Viscount of Novkursain and Baron of Zvaervauld, Lord of Staalgrav The Right Honourable, SABINE WEISS, Matriarch of the House Lady, VERENA WEISS, Chief of Surgery and Lady Chamberlain of Valdev

Louna would give a little spin and a squeal upon seeing the news. Rushing off to gossip to her friends about what the festivities could be like!

Louna's eyes would scan the missive with a haste. More does her wary expression deepened, a hand brushing through her hair anxiously. She sends a prayer somewhere, and perhaps goes to find those who share the name of Colborn.

Louna had been with few others when the missive was delivered. Her gaze carefully scans it, an unreadable expression on her face. She had nodded about the apology - to her that was fair. She decides swiftly that she will take up handling this.

Louna would be slowly stepping about the grounds, the letter reaching her there through delivery. It was brief, unbeknownst to her the shortest of the letters that would be sent out. She didn't know her aunt well in truth, a conflicting sort of emotion between whispers of the city and the loyalty of blood. Over and over do her eyes scan the simple paragraph, the warning given to her from the dame. The Dame's encouragement would pierce more than perhaps intended. Dread spreading across the features of the young heiress. The paper crinkling in her grasp, she lets her starry gaze go skyward. "There is no other option but to cut down failure."

A newly returned and wild Louna looks over the missive, a nervous smile - but a smile nonetheless!

She didn't know the fellow teen's health would decline so rapidly. She was asked to go and hunt for a gift, and to that she quickly agreed. The girl which was the beacon of strength to Louna was with her, so in the starry-eyed girl's mind - not a thing could go wrong. Next thing she knew, she was home to find that strength, her strength, bedridden. She was at a loss for words, tears pricked her eyes but she wouldn't dare let them fall. There was work to be done after all. Whenever Sigmar and Mahaut were not watching over the sleeping figure of the Kovachev, Louna was there. To dab at her forehead, to fix her sheets, her hair. Anything to relight the beacon. Everything only seemed to go wrong after this. Rumors and bad deeds done to others that Louna loved. She had gotten her own fevers although not ones that could compare to Dima's sickness. She needed her beacon, she needed her to glow once more. "Please."

Verena had heard of her death far too late. A letter, given to her by a child. Though she would never hear the woman's last words, that was now two. Two family members gone, with their last breath as an apology. She now can only await their open arms.

Very nice writing !! Hoping the best for this idea <3

WOOOOOOOOOO KOODINII MY LOVE

Verena looks upon the missive with a softened smile, nodding as she read the words. "Oh my swan, how you soar." The woman was quite proud of the once younger timid girl.

Whilst Verena Weiss wanders fields of lilac, her crow lands with invitation. She looks over the missive with a smile and that of surprise! "My... it has been so long since I have spoken to the woman - I hope she found what she was looking for in a partner." And thus she sets out to pick a fitting gift bouquet for bride and groom to be.

The future Baroness was unsure why her mother was so excited, but she shared in excitement all the same. With her mother's words did she stare in wonder, that doe eyed gaze lingering towards her siblings. "Great ness." She echoes, far too young to really grasp the weight and hopefulness of her mother's words. She dreams of her family that night, with her at the lead with a comically large, and definitely not correct, crown. @Dramatude

STILL SUPER EPIC PLS PLS PSL +1

Verena always had confined her deepest thoughts and feelings to the burning comet, as the comet was fast to simmer out in the sky - so did the flower wilt. Perhaps even as Amari felt any sort of guilt to the woman once clad in green, Verena never blamed any of it on her. They were just girls afterall. They were girls together. Now they are two burn marks in the history of Valdev, together still. Volya would continue to fight for his mother, that hatred and anger from that day never really fading. He was young and strong, taking his next steps in strides. He writes a reminder to visit home soon. Somewhere, a farfolk man in whites, golds and greens has a beam. His daughter always finds her way back to her path, and this was a step in the right direction. He is proud.

Hidden away from cold did they sit. Pots of various flowers from various areas, each being taken care of equally with love but different in approach. The woman donned in dark garbs comes to pluck at individual ones, practiced and particular in which blossoms were picked. First were the bluebells. Verena had met Marus in their youth, such as she had met many of Valdev. But he was different, they shared a common trait between the two. They were both outsiders, immigrants to the city of Haense. He was unlike the Weiss she knew, timid and frightened. Whilst watching her now husband beat upon him with words, did she swoop in. He just needed to be shown kindness, a softer approach with his training. She did get a single lesson with him in sword, and with her steady voice did she watch him thrive in one lesson. “It is hard to move to a new place.” She remembers muttering to Siegmund, asking him to be a bit more patient with the boy. She beamed when she saw his attempt, and the beam grew as Marus did. Next the edelweiss. Verena a newly grown adult, had become a combat medic for the Brotherhood. They were on a mission to kill beasts, but it was quick to turn to a slaughter of her brethren. She watched her Marshal go down, and felt herself running towards him. Adrenaline was pumping, the wind howling. She hadn’t seen the bear with shooting spikes. If not for Marus jumping forth and getting her down, perhaps she wouldn’t have outlived him. As they lay getting treated for the nonlethal spikes that pierced them, Verena tilts her head and smiles. “Spike borsas.” She had joked. They were bonded through their kindness to each other before any surname did. Lily of the Valley. A woman in her adulthood, having her family name plucked from her. She did not hate her grandfather for it, but instead was grieving what could of been. She sat near the river under the bridge, writing notes to send away in bottles. “There is another way to make a wish, even the dead can see them.” She had told the man as he came to check on her. They made wishes, he provided comfort through friendship and kindness. White Orchids. Her son was born of curse, and she laid in shambles. At the time she was grieving a boy who had still lived, and soon would come to regret only that he would be treated different. Marus brang forth the idea of writing a bill, Karl and him working long and hard to try and make the city a safer place for the infant and for all of the cursed children. Never did she think that kindness would be skewed, never did she think it would get him killed. She had begin to question the faith in its entirety, a sin she would never speak freely about. If God was so kind, why did his followers decide to be the executioner? Why had he taken several she had loved so dearly too soon? Her mother, Her sister, Her Grandfather and now him. Blue Hyacinths. She prepared each flower slowly, cutting away leaves and the end of each stem at an angle. After her placement of the flowers did she wrap the entirety in string, followed by a blue silken ribbon. She checks over her work, noting each flower as her eyes well with tears once more. “The flowers, they are quite gorgeous - are they niet?”. There was no answer given to her. Her wails echo through the walls of Staalgrav, floating along the breeze towards the wilds of Novkursain.