Sladetricity

The Patriarch of House Amador glanced upon the missive brought before him, his pale blue eyes scanning the words with the upmost joy. "What an interesting endeavor.." Spoke the man, a hand rubbing against his silver streaked hair as he reached for a quill. Surely there was plenty of things to tell this boy.

FULL NAME: Klaus von Augusten AGE: 26 PRIOR EXPERIENCE: Current Knight of the Order of the White Hart (Alba) SIGNED NAME: Sir Klaus METHOD OF CONTACT: sladetricity/Sladetricity

Username: Sladetricity Character Name: Sir Klaus von Augusten Affiliation: Archduchy of Alba, Empire of Man Desired Rank: Honour Guard or Vanguard Which games will you be attending?: The Battle of Eldmyr, The Siege of Totenpflaz, The Trials of Honour

MC Name: Sladetricity Discord: sladetricity Image: Description of Image: a couple by the sea Dimensions: 2x2

From Ashes, We Rise EST 143 E.S. - Present | 1590 A.H. - Present •⋅ ───⊱ ༺⋅☨⋅ ✵ ⋅☨⋅ ༻ ⊰─── ⋅• TO DISTANT SHORES A DOCK TO CALL HOME PUBLISHED BY ON THIS HOLY YEAR OF 2063 •⋅ ────────────────⊱ ༺ ✦ ༻ ⊰──────────────── ⋅• My lord father often spoke of stagnation as a hindrance greater than any other; the unwillingness to escape from content or ease and strive for greater prospects proved destructive. This is a trouble House Amador has found itself plagued by for many generations. A stillness, awaiting the arrival of opportunity rather than seeking it out. Years spent in complacency having wrought insignificance into the annals of our centuries long histories. Even so, my house remained beneath the fleeting solace afforded to us. Alongside the remnants of an identity which found itself marooned — the Marian peoples scattered and afflicted with a thing no better described as cultural dissolution. Ink spilled by my own grandmother spoke of a wish to keep Amador where the spirit of Lady Haense persevered. Yet I look to what has become of a refuge once promising and know, for the legacy I carry, to remain is a fruitless endeavor. Streets once bustling have turned hollow, the laughter of children and chatter of tavern-goers replaced by the stirring of nearby creeks and shifting forests. We came to ensure we wouldn’t have our identity slip from between our fingers, but how can we preserve what doesn’t remain here? No longer does it feel like home, a place I wish to raise my family or a place I cling onto hope for. It is these thoughts which lead me, after many nights of contemplation and in pursuit of a brighter future for my own, to seek establishment elsewhere. There is no ease which comes with a decision of this fashion, nor is there simplicity in deciding upon somewhere to start anew. Options were few and far between, but of them did only one gleam with promise: Alba. It wasn’t long before I was honored with an audience before the Archduke. His Highness, with the utmost graciousness, extended my house a welcome into the Alban fold and offered purpose in the fashioning of management of Janisport, the very place we were afforded stay. And here shall we remain, our foreseeable days taken by vessels to dock and sailors to greet. A fresh start, where generations of Amadors to come aren’t restrained, able to walk the path of their ambitions without a shade of estrangement atop their heads. •⋅ ─────────────────────⊱ ༺ ⋅☨⋅ ✵ ⋅☨⋅ ༻ ⊰───────────────────── ⋅• ‘The Silver Wake’ His Lordship, Kristoff Isaak Amador, Patriarch of House Amador, Lord of Queen’s Crossing Her Ladyship, Inez Artemisia Amador, Lady of Queen’s Crossing ‘The Anchor of Amador’ His Lordship, Anaksandr Albus Amador, Lord of Queen’s Crossing.

From Ashes, We Rise EST 143 E.S. - Present | 1590 A.H. - Present •⋅ ───⊱ ༺⋅☨⋅ ✵ ⋅☨⋅ ༻ ⊰─── ⋅• THE TIDE’S GIFT OUR FIRST BORN PUBLISHED BY ON THIS HOLY YEAR OF 614 E.S. •⋅ ────────────────⊱ ༺ ✦ ༻ ⊰──────────────── ⋅• In my youth, I had never thought about the prospects of a family for myself, always viewing it as a necessity to carry the name rather than a true desire. For years I lacked the drive to try and give myself what most men want, a family. That was until I had met my dear wife, Inez. Those original thoughts had instantly forgotten themselves. In Petra we sat and spoke for hours. Then countless times seeing again and again, we eventually began our courtship. Shortly after, we married, and it was not long after we discovered that we were to be blessed with a babe of our own. The first few months were hectic. Trying to make room within our already cramped home, gathering whatever we needed in the already frigid weather. Not to mention my dearest struggling to get used to the cold environment. After countless warm drinks and nights spent remaining quiet with a book, after all the walks to the shore to wade away the cabin fever, it seemed she felt better. Enough to not remain bedridden for most of the day, at least. Months later, Inez mentioned names. She first spoke of calling our babe “Matyas” if a boy. It sounded perfect. Though, it's unclear to me still if it was perfect because of her suggesting it, or the name itself. Before long, our first child was welcomed into the world. •⋅ ───⊱ ༺ ✦ ༻ ⊰─── ⋅• Matyas Helmi Amador 17TH DAY OF TOV AG YERMEY OF 614 E.S. MATYAS, Our son takes more after his mother, with hair as dark as the ocean’s abyss and eyes blue as the glaciers that test even the mightiest of sailors. Even so young, his attention has been brought onto parchment. Anytime Inez or I try to read something he always has to accompany us on our laps. Seems our boy will be an academic of some sort, much like how my late sister wished to be, whom his middle name sources from. •⋅ ─────────────────────⊱ ༺ ⋅☨⋅ ✵ ⋅☨⋅ ༻ ⊰───────────────────── ⋅• ‘The Silver Wake’ His Lordship, Kristoff Amador, Patriarch of House Amador, Lord of Queen's Crossing Her Ladyship, Inez Amador, Lady of Queen's Crossing

The man smiled upon the news, his brows lofted as his attention was brought to the men aboard the ship, scurrying around to their usual places. Seems like this day would be like any other to them, though much different to himself. Without the anchor he worried the ship might go adrift, though surely the wind may guide them right once more.

There was not much from the twin, his eyes cascading down to the now quiet state of his sister. How rare it was. Be it different he might have rejoiced, though not now. Not like this. When they were smaller, he remembered always taking the heads off of his sisters dolls to use as anchors for his toy ships. Barbaric, but a memory nonetheless. They were heavy enough to hold down the little floating pieces of wood, rocks were far too heavy and everything else just did not work the same. He would remember the countless times they whispered to one another in the night, scared that a dragon might sweep down and blow out their candles. The memories of carrying her on his back, even when the adults told him no, not wishing for her boots to get dirty and covered with mud. Those were the last things Kristoff could remember about his dear sister, the final memories that dwelled in the storm that plagued his mind. Helena was not just his twin, but his closest friend. Just a few years before they had promised each other that they would always be excited to see one another. Whenever there was a party, they would always find each other. If there was a room full of people, both would seek the other to speak to them first. She was the best sister he could have asked for. That promise will be left lingering in the air, and only time will tell The tides will always come back in, and the sun will always rise again.