Metamancy

"Oh ADDDDMIRRALLL!" called Silas. @Vertigo_Round

“ohhhh yeeeahhh” says avaline

FIRSTTT favorite character to play and why

OOC: “Sister.” Avaline turned, and Leonardo was standing there, his sword in his hand. His eyes were wild, and the blade was stained with blood. A suffocating feeling clutched Avaline’s heart with an iron fist as she looked upon the sight. Her surroundings were blurry, and the only thing she could see was her brother. He stepped closer, the blade quivering in his hand. Avaline felt her breath catch in her throat, and she could not breathe. Something was terribly, terribly wrong. “Why did you leave?” Avaline asked weakly. She had been meaning to ask him. Now that he was here, she could, at last, demand an answer. “I miss you.” Leonardo did not speak another word, his eyes suddenly finding themselves shrouded in darkness. He stepped forth, an arm’s length from her, and suddenly swung that blade towards her neck, in an attempt to behead her. •───────────────────•°•❀•°•───────────────────• A shrill shriek sounded out throughout the empty streets of Saint Godwinsburg as Avaline awoke with a start on the top floor of the Aldor estate. She glanced about, a hand defensively risen to her neck, as though to catch a blade that aimed to behead her. A dream. Avaline exhaled gently, her eyes softly closing as she slowly lowered her head back onto the pillow. It was the third night in a row she had had a dream of the sort. She felt the growing emptiness in her chest; the feeling was permanent, now. It was then that she noticed. She quickly sat up in the bed, gathering her bearings. Where was she? This was not her room at the Helvets estate. The memory of the previous night returned to her, slowly. Avaline had escaped the suffocating ball with Rothwin, and had returned to the Aldor estate. Through her lethargy and tiring conversation with Rothwin in which she had had to explain to Rothwin the matter of Leonardo, Rothwin had offered her rest in his room, such that she did not have to make the long walk back to the Helvets estate. Though it was, she supposed, a little strange that she had spent the night in a man’s room, it was certainly more comfortable than the confines of the room she had rotted away in for almost two years. She slowly slid out of bed, rubbing at her eyes. If nothing else, she had certainly overstayed her welcome at the Aldor home; it was time to leave. Despite how much the dream had left her shaken, Avaline managed to somewhat steadily make her way over to the door, slide it ever-so-slightly open, and peek her head out. The halls of the Aldor home were empty. She stepped out of the room entirely, and made her way downstairs. “Rothwin?” Avaline called out, weakly. “Roswyn? Is anyone home?” The answer was made apparent for her in the silence. Mulling over the dream, she made her way out of the Aldor home, retrieving her jacket from the coat hanger and pulling it tightly over herself. Leonardo. Leonardo. Leo. The name echoed in her ears, and she had to shut her eyes tight as she shivered in the winter cold to drown out the voice in her head. Leonardo. Leonardo. Another shrill shriek sounded out through the streets of Saint Godwinsburg as Avaline fell to her knees, clutching her head. She could barely recall the last time she had seen her twin brother, for she had still been suffering from pneumonia when she had. She could barely stand the idea of him standing amongst the elves and dwarves, fighting against the Crown. Traitor. Brother. The streets were empty, and not a soul had heard her scream. Her eyes wide, she shakily stumbled to her feet, clutching her head with one hand. A prospect – an idea – sparked to life in her mind, burning brightly like a bonfire. She felt her feet begin to run home, to change into her travelling clothes. To turn herself to Dahlia. •───────────────────•°•❀•°•───────────────────• “Oh, Guinevere!” Avaline called out, pulling her scarf over her mouth and nose to hide her face. It was difficult to breathe, but it was her only option. She tossed her hood over her head and pulled herself on top of her steed. Where might Leonardo be? He had mentioned Urguan. Before the war, before her sickness, Avaline had visited the Urguan vassal of Cerulia on what she had thought at the time was a grand adventure. If she recalled correctly, she was on the ledger. That meant she could almost guarantee herself unquestioned entry. …one had to start somewhere. •───────────────────•°•❀•°•───────────────────• Avaline rode up to the gates of Cerulia, her head pounding in her ears and her breaths shallow from how long her mouth and nose had been covered by her scarf. She dismounted some distance away from the gates, striding with some hesitance up to those iron bars– And there he was. A man with black hair stood within the gatehouse, speaking to the woman on gate duty. And on the other side of the gates– there he was. Leonardo. So close, yet so far. Avaline could only watch on in rage, in unending grief, in confusion as the inner gates opened for the man within the gatehouse. Leonardo offered Dahlia a wave. Her heart in her throat, Avaline – no, Dahlia, at the moment – averted her gaze, staring down at the floor. There he was. Her brother; the man she had spent her later teens with, the man she had learned how to be an adult with, her twin. With his hair and eye color identical to Avaline’s and his tall, bulky build, it was impossible to mistake him. “Welp, she’s rude,” Leonardo mumbled as she looked away. The outer gates opened for her to step inside. Avaline stepped into the gatehouse as the man who had entered before her conversed with her brother. “...good day,” “Dahlia” spoke, facing the woman on gate duty. “My name is Dahlia. I should be on the ledger.” As the woman gave her a nod and began shuffling through the ledger, Avaline could see and hear, in her peripheral, Leonardo saying: “Let's go, Fred, we got a lesson to begin.” Fred. Was that the man with black hair’s name? And what was his relationship to Leonardo? Was he a threat? By the sound of it, he seemed a student; and Avaline began to recall that Leonardo was supposedly a master alchemist. She did not register that the two were leaving until they were already almost out of her vision. She quickly turned to the inner gate, hoping to say something – anything – to stop him. Alas, no words managed to work their way into her mind, let alone past her lips. So she could only turn back to the woman on gate duty, hoping to get inside – and catch up, perhaps – as soon as possible. Leonardo and Fred vanished, and Avaline felt her heart fall into her stomach. “Indeed you are! Then all that remains is, I ask for your weapons,” The gate guard was saying in the meantime. Avaline instinctively reached for her self-defense knife at her side, ready to turn it in; though something stopped her hand. That very something screamed at her to keep hold of it, to not turn it in. “I carry none,” “Dahlia” lied. She was getting quite good at lying. “Very well…” The woman spoke in response, with little trace of suspicion. “May I ask why you are visiting? Since your last visit was a while ago.” Oh. That was not good. Avaline desperately searched her mind for an answer that was anything but the truth. Why she had to hide the truth, she was not sure; she only knew that she had to. “I-” She felt her voice catch, and suddenly, she could not breathe. She frantically took a few deep breaths, just as she had practiced so many times over, and finally found an excuse. “Shopping,” She lied unconvincingly. The woman on gate duty tilted her head, suspicious now if she was not before. “...are you sure that’s why you’re here?” This was it, surely. She would be caught and slaughtered. Her life would end here. “…I carry no ill intention,” She promised, a desperate plea to be let in. If she were to be caught and killed here, she would at least have to see her brother one last time. The woman paused, considering “Dahlia’s” words. She then shrugged. “Very well. Welcome to Cerulia!” By some miracle, the gates were cranked open, and Avaline was granted entry. Without so much as a thanks to the guard, she near-stumbled into the city. She was greeted by the pristine blue-and-white city, with its brick roofs and fantastical architecture. When she had first visited, she had been in awe; now, there was no time to admire Cerulia’s beauty. She quickly got ahold of a stranger, a dark elf, and asked somewhat desperately: “Excuse me. Do you know where I might find the home of the good Leonardo Helvets?” She had to force out the words good and Helvets – for was Leonardo really either? The dark elf only shook her head. “Xye, not off the top of my head.” Xye? What did that mean? Was that no in dark elven? Sorry, perhaps? Avaline mumbled a quick thank you before continuing on her search. Leonardo and his student Fred were nowhere in sight; and so she could do nothing but continue knocking on doors, interrupting the days of strangers, and asking: “Have you seen the good Leonardo Helvets?” “Apologies, but do you know where the residence of the good Leonardo Helvets is?” “Hello, do you–” More and more no’s and sorry’s and I don’t think so’s were tossed at her carelessly. Helpless, she could only continue knocking on doors. Eventually, she found herself entering a strange underground residence, with peculiar lighting and houses that were built into the walls. Perhaps Leonardo lived here? She knocked on the first door she saw. “No, sorry.” She knocked on the second. “I’m not sure…” Defeated, she felt just about ready to give up. She knocked on the third, and the door slowly creaked open following a few muffled calls from inside. Avaline gazed down at the floor as the door opened, the words now practiced several times over spilling from her lips. “Excuse me. Do you know where I may find the home of–” She glanced upwards, fighting the hopeless tears, only to find herself looking into the eyes of Leonardo Frederick Helvets. “...you.” Leonardo took a step back at the immediate hostility in her voice. It was clear he did not recognize her in her disguise. “Fred, I'm not liking this already,” Leonardo called into the house before turning back to the cloaked Avaline. “...and you are?” Now that she was here, she was not entirely sure of what to say. She opened her mouth to speak, the rage, the grief, the confusion all bubbling within her, but no words came. For a moment, the two simply stared at each other, one in confusion, one in what could, perhaps, be considered hatred. It was only as she felt herself pulling down her scarf and throwing off her hood that the words began spilling like water from a shattered dam. “You would think a man would recognize his own sister,” She seethed, the weeks, the months of pent-up emotion threatening to burst. “But I suppose you are no longer a brother, or a man, are you?” Leonardo’s eyes widened in horror as he at last recognized her venomous expression. He went pale, his face losing all color, and he quickly grabbed Avaline and dragged her into the home. “What in god's name are you here for? Fred, get your ass down here,” Leonardo began to ramble in a panic. Avaline felt her entire body go into a state of shock as he laid his hands on her. She had to force herself out of her own panic to realize what was happening, and quickly shoved him off of her as roughly as she could with what little strength she had. She wheezed a little, her lungs unable to keep up with the dusty underground air and the stress of the situation. She took a moment to catch her breath, bending over and resting her hands on her knees, before she was at last able to rise to her full height. “…Firstly, let me just say that I hate you.” She glowered at him as she felt her entire body begin to tense horribly. Her hands clenched into tight fists, and her shoulders rose ever-so-slightly towards her ears in tension. “Not constructive – why are you here, and how did you know I was here?” Avaline ignored him, stepping forth and aggressively poking at his chest. “You - have you any idea what you've done? The family reputation has been smeared with your blood. What am I to tell my siblings - your siblings? I hate you - I despise you.” Her breaths remained shallow, and she found herself having to take deep breaths in between her sentences. Involuntary tears began to fall from her eyes, down her cheeks, and onto the dusty wood below. Try as she did, she could not stop them for the life of her. A terrible desperation crept into her voice as she continued on. “Ever since you have been gone, life has resumed as though you were never there. Except you are not there. And I cannot stand it, I cannot bear it one bit.” It was apparently Leonardo’s turn on the offensive, for his expression contorted into one of mild annoyance as he returned her anger in equal wrath. “So the woman who tried to turn me in to Imperial officers missed me?” It appeared a highly doubtful prospect to him. He glanced to his right, at Fred, who had reappeared, this time wearing a dark red hood. “Also, Freddy, I'm 80% sure she knows who you are. You look stupid.” Avaline did not, in fact, know who he was, nor did she care, too hyperfixated on her brother to pay attention to anything, anything else at all. “Also, don't lie to Learza, she's a kind lady and doesn't deserve being lied to. Rather overworked, too – and why did you go with Dahlia as your name?” His seeming lack of care for the gravity of the situation at hand only fueled her anger. She felt herself begin to tremble. “…You keep on saying my name,” Spoke a disgruntled Fred. Freddy? Avaline was not sure of his name, at this point. “That's why I'm pretty sure she already knows you,” Leonardo returned in jest. “Also, look at the book Fred got me.” Leonardo, still apparently unable to grasp the intensity of the situation, presented her with a book that read: Blood Magic. Avaline was unable to even comprehend what this could mean through her anger as Fred continued to speak. “Yes, Fred… your boyfriend,” That Fred spoke slyly, before planting a kiss on Avaline’s brother’s cheek and whispering in his ear. It was almost comedic, the way Leonardo smacked Fred over the head with the book following the whisper. And yet still, none of it truly registered to Avaline, and she only shot Fred a glare of death before prattling on. Her knees buckled as she continued to speak, and had to cling to Leonardo to prevent herself from falling. “Please, Leonardo.” Her voice shook terribly, and the real intent of having come began to become apparent. “Come back. Beg before the Crown. You may be whipped, but you may live yet. When the almighty Crown burns this city to the ground, where will you be? When you face Adrian and Richard on the battlefield, where will your blade be? Please, Leonardo. Do not do this to our family. I cannot stand your absence one bit. Do it for me, if nothing else.” “I don't like Adrian – and who's Richard – and I would probably kill them both – and I'm not begging to no false crown, or false Empire, and Cerulia will not fall, and doing it for you is not as convincing as it might seem. My choice has already been cemented in stone,” Leonardo retorted in one, single, long breath. It was as though lightning had struck Avaline; Adrian and Richard’s faces flashed before her eyes, and she could see their blades clashing, she could see– A terrible wave of grief overcame her. Oh, Leonardo. How had things turned out like this? “Also, Fred said he wanted a date with you; that's what he whispered,” Leonardo added as an afterthought. Avaline felt a boundless darkness begin to build within her heart. Slowly, as she began to comprehend those words, she came to a terrible realization: Her brother had died a long time ago. Whoever was standing before her now – this monster – was not the silly, brutish teen that had made her cry all those years ago. This – this was some strange abomination of war, some blood-creation that should never have happened. Avaline felt herself stumble, and had to support herself against a nearby wall to prevent herself from falling to the floor. If this was not her brother, then who was he? The answer was clear. The man standing before her was the enemy. Slowly, Avaline rose and swallowed, hard. She gazed down at the floor, stepping close to her brother – no, to Leonardo. She spread her arms wide. “…Then, before I go, let me hold you. One last time. Like we would when we were teens.” She felt the concealed knife at her side burning into her waist. For the first time, an actual conflict could be seen behind Leonardo’s eyes; yet Avaline could not see it. His thoughts apparently running wild and his eyes darting from side to side, Leonardo moved into the embrace. “Alright, you big baby – one last hug.” Avaline felt his large frame connect with hers, and there was only one thing in her heart. Hatred. “Do me a favor – don't tell anyone you saw me here. You are the third to know I live here and only the third,” Leonardo whispered as she felt herself trembling in his arms. “...okay.” Avaline’s trembling hand slowly made for the dagger at her side. She felt her hand wrap snugly around the hilt of the blade. In the next moment, that blade pierced the skin of Leonardo’s neck, driving itself deep into his flesh with all of Avaline’s meagre strength. Leonardo collapsed onto the ground almost immediately, his throat filling with blood as he began to bleed out. The dagger clattered to the floor, and Avaline could do naught but stare on in horror at what she had done. Her eyes found Leonardo’s. Her entire body began to convulse violently at the sight of all the blood. “...Leonardo?” No. No. Had she really– was she truly a– “...MURDERER!” Leonardo’s supposed boyfriend, Fred, screamed as he fell to Leonardo’s side and pulled out an axe, in case Avaline made another move. “...LEON- LEO! LEO, WAKE UP!” There was a rough banging on the door. “Cerulite guard, open the door!” Avaline’s eyes darted frantically to the door, and she involuntarily found herself running as fast as she could – further into the house. The door was broken down, bursting open. The woman from the gatehouse – Learza, was it? – as well as the dark elf that Avaline had originally asked for directions rushed into Leonardo’s residence as they scanned the scene. “Leo?” Learza, the woman from the gatehouse, spoke in horror as her gaze panned firstly to Fred, who was standing over Leonardo with an axe, then to Avaline, who was running from the scene. “Back away!” The dark elf commanded Fred as she dropped to her knees before Avaline’s brother, readying a medical kit. The dark elf’s head inclined in Avaline’s direction as she looked to Learza: “Detain her.” Fred was happy to do as asked, rising from Leonardo’s side to begin giving chase to the fleeing Avaline. Learza, too, made after Avaline, blade in hand. Avaline ran up a stony stairwell, not quite looking back, and continued running – only to find herself facing a balcony. She looked down in utter horror; it was a drop that she could not survive if she fell. She pressed herself against the fence and turned, prepared to face her demise, as Fred approached with his axe. He pointed the sharp edge at Avaline, demanding: “Down on the ground, ******* now.” Avaline could only do as commanded, curling up into a fetal position upon that balcony, sobbing gently to herself. She was a murderer. She had killed her brother. Fred, surprisingly, did not strike her immediately, only moving to search her, mumbling, “I ain't letting this sneaky fucker keep her blades.” Avaline, of course, carried no more weapons. “Very well, remove the hood and wait by the wall behind me once you are done,” Learza ordered Fred. She then approached Avaline, sheathing her blade and withdrawing some rope. “Lady. Hands together. Now.” Avaline extended both her arms, resigned, her face buried in her knees. Through the tears, she could not see a thing – she could only hear the shing of the axe as Fred brought it down to cut off her hand, and the thud of Learza intercepting it just in time. “No! Judgement is yet to be decided.” Avaline could scarcely comprehend any of it. The only thing ringing in her ears was her brother’s name, once more. Leonardo. Leonardo. Leonardo. Somewhere in the back of Avaline’s mind, she heard Fred’s axe clatter to the floor and him mumbling, “Judgement better be death…” Learza could be heard sighing. “Leo is a friend of mine too… This is ne easy for any of us, now.” Avaline felt her hands be bound in a secure knot. “Sir. Could you remove the hood? You are both to be questioned at the very least,” Learza spoke unto Fred. “I will not in the presence of the lady, for a number of reasons, that you can speak to Peter of Beleth about…” Fred snarled. Who was Peter of Beleth? Either way, Avaline was scarcely listening, her tears falling to the floor in streams of droplets. “That is fine, you will not be required to unhood right now in front of the suspect. You will be given apart cells, until clarity of events is found by those who pass judgement.” Avaline was pulled onto her feet, and the sounds of the commotion faded away as she was dragged out of Leonardo’s home and back out into the streets of Cerulia. She was left with only the pounding of her heart in her head, and the sounds of her ragged breaths. She could not breathe… •───────────────────•°•❀•°•───────────────────• Avaline pulled the covers more tightly around herself, but it did not help with the pressing cold. There was no fire in the room, and it was the middle of one of the harshest winters Avaline had ever seen. She felt her very bones begin to freeze as she coughed violently, leaving her breathless as her lungs burned in their attempt to draw air again. She attempted to sit up in bed, though made the attempt too quickly, and her head spun as she collapsed back onto her pillow with a groan. Am I really going to die like this? She raised a hand to her forehead to feel her burning fever. Her arm felt heavy in the gesture, and it took her almost a full minute just to raise her hand to her head. Time blurred together. How long had it been? Days? Months? It felt close to a year, now. Sweat soaked her sheets, despite the cold. It seemed as though one moment, she would be burning in her clothes, and the next, freezing despite the layers of blankets she pulled over herself. She drew in another deep breath. Her lungs burned; oh, how they burned. It was a terrible, terrible feeling, that triggered another horrific coughing fit that left her gasping for air afterwards. Every breath was torture. Every second stretched infinitely on, yet the weeks passed by when she blinked. How much longer? She felt her eyelids grow heavy. It was bright outside, still, but sleep called to her. If I fall asleep, will I stop breathing? She was unable to deduce an answer before her consciousness slipped away once more, stolen away by sleep. •───────────────────•°•❀•°•───────────────────• Avaline fell sideways onto the chair in the prison cell, still sobbing gently to herself. It was a terrible, pained sound, for through her struggles to breathe and her tears, it seemed she very well may have been about to die of suffocation. Learza leaned upon the wall opposite Avaline, looking pitifully onto the murderer. “Are you capable of speech?” “Y-yes,” Avaline half-wheezed. “What can you tell me about what happened?” The Cerulite guard’s voice was calm and low, controlled as she questioned Avaline. “Leonardo,” Avaline moaned, shivering as though it was freezing. It was, in truth, quite warm in the cell. “Leonardo.” Learza pursed her lips and crossed her arms. “Who is Leo to you?” “Leonardo Frederick Helvets,” Avaline recited. “My name is Avaline Helvets.” Learza nodded, deep in thought. “So you are family.” “I am going to cut it a bit short. Who stabbed him?” Who? Who had stabbed Leonardo? Who was the murderer? “Me!” Avaline near-screamed, choking on her own sobs. “I am a murderer. I attempted to kill my brother. There. Why am I still alive?” “For I must know if you did this freely, or not,” Learza continued on. “Why kill your brother?” “I don't know,” Avaline bemoaned through harsh gasps and terrible wheezes. The tears, they did not stop; and they were affecting her ability to breathe. “I don't know. Oh, Leonardo… Leonardo….” Learza, the elfess, paused. “You don't know why you would kill your own brother? As a sister myself, I would need an insanely convincing reason to do so. And your panic attack suggests the same for you…” Avaline could not bring herself to respond. She only descended into heavier, more painful sobs. Though, it was a good question. Why had she done it? There was, truly, no explanation. She was a monster. She had become some strange abomination of war, some blood-creation that should never have happened. “Was it an order? A punishment? I know he was once Imperial.” Avaline could only find one answer in her heart. “I did it. Because I am evil!” “Do you regret doing it?” The elfess countered almost immediately. Avaline opened her mouth to respond, though found that she could not. Did she regret it? Externally, she could be seen blubbering unintelligibly, unable to answer. Learza’s tone grew colder. “If you hope to keep that hand of yours, I will need a reason to not let that hooded one take it from you.” Avaline began to panic. Her hand; she could not have her hand cut off. She made another weak attempt at speech, but every time she tried to speak, her breaths caught in her throat, threatening to choke her. Learza observed Avaline’s breathing carefully. “I hope you aren't asthmatic,” The elfess muttered, unaware that Avaline was still recovering from pneumonia. Learza drew in a deep breath, then exhaled. “Can you try and follow my breathing slowly?” It was strange, really, to have her captors attempt to steady her breathing. The gentle encouragement, however, allowed Avaline to steady her breathing, at least to a relative degree, once more. A trapdoor above opened, and the dark elf from earlier gazed down at Learza and Avaline. “What's going on?” “She's having a panic attack. But confirmed she stabbed him…” “Well, that makes it easier… come out whenever you have the chance.” Learza continued to assist Avaline in steadying her breathing, and soon, Avaline found herself capable of speech once more. “Care to try and tell me more?” Avaline had to reach deep into her muddled thoughts to put the timeline back into place. There was a deep, empty hollowness in her chest, as though someone had pierced a hole right through it. Somewhere through the agony, Avaline found herself explaining to Learza, coming up with all sorts of excuses for what she had done. “He told me that he would kill my brothers. And told me that he would fight against the crown. So I stabbed him.” Sob. Sob. “I see… your brothers being of the Empire I take it?” Avaline could only nod in response, for the tears found themselves overflowing once more. Learza hummed in thought. “Soldiers, what’s going on here?” A voice could be heard from outside. “That's uh- some extreme sibling rivalry, no?” “...” Learza sighed, looking upon Avaline with pity. “I have asked all I could. I'll let you rest up a bit, alright?” At last, Learza was gone. The door to the cell creaked shut gently, leaving Avaline to her bound hands and her boundless tears. •───────────────────•°•❀•°•───────────────────• How much time had passed? Minutes? Hours? Avaline wept through it all within that small cell, alone with no one but her thoughts and a murderer. At last – after eons – the trapdoor above opened once more, and a cursed child could be seen dangling a sandwich from a fishing rod. “Hungry?” Weakly, Avaline looked up. Food? She realized that she was, in fact, starving. She reached up to take the sandwich, only to realize that her hands were bound. After a moment’s consideration, the cursed child jumped down into the cell. Avaline felt herself reeling from him – this was the first time in her life she had seen a “Blessed” Child of Ixris. And yet, she could not resist as he searched her for weapons, confirming she had none. “You know lass, why'ya stab em.” Avaline sobbed quietly through it all. “Because I am evil.” The devil moved to replace the ropes that bound her hands with shackles, allowing her room to pick up and eat the sandwich. “Not everyone is good or evil. Descendants are a fine line between such. What you did was wrong. That much, you can admit. Family, in this accursed world is one thing to be cherished. But should you ne be pressed on charges – take this as a lesson, miss.” The voice of the cursed child faded into obscurity as Avaline felt her soul shatter and leave through her mouth. “All are not perfect, but we learn from losses, not victory.” With shaking hands, Avaline reached for the sandwich. It was likely her last meal, after all. She took the tiniest of bites, her heart burning with – something. Was it shame? She looked at the devil with wide eyes, in complete lack of understanding. “…So when is my execution?” Avaline asked weakly. “That depends on your brother and my verdict,” The devil spoke calmly. It depended on Leonardo? But was he not dead? “Let me ask you this. Did you do it as you two were on opposite sides?” What a peculiar question. Was that true? Did she kill her brother because of the war? Avaline nodded, slowly. She was unsure as to whether or not she was lying. Then, suddenly: “I am going to sit, standing hurts,” A familiar voice spoke from outside the cell. Avaline’s eyes darted to the door. Leonardo? “Leonardo!” Avaline shrieked shrilly, the hole in her chest finding itself magically mended. “Leonardo!” “Miss, I've seen almost five empires rise and fall, none of them have been pleasant. You fight for a corrupt lord. Though we shall now see his word,” The devil, who apparently held some position of power in Cerulia, spoke calmly. “Are there any words you wish to give him?” “Yup, that’s the shrill screech of a demon right there,” Leonardo could be heard murmuring outside. Avaline ignored the cursed child entirely. “Oh… you're alive… you're alive… oh… Leonardo…” The devil stepped out of the cell. Muffled discussions could be heard through the wall as Avaline was, once more, left with her thoughts. Leonardo was alive. Leonardo was alive. She felt her heart leap into her throat, but in a different way this time. Leonardo was alive. What did that make her? Was she still a murderer? She was unsure. Avaline could only hold her head, her thoughts screaming at her, as the trapdoor above opened. “...I have one question for you.” Avaline looked up at the cursed child, in despair. “Do you regret what you've done to your brother? And answer truthfully.” If the answer was not clear before, it was now. Avaline felt the tears begin to fall at full force again. Her brother was alive. Her brother. At long last, she nodded. “Then I shall give you your verdict. Stand,” The devil announced. Avaline stumbled to her feet. She thought of Rothwin, of Roswyn. She thought of Eugenie, of Adrian, of Richard. She thought of Susanna, she thought of Leonardo. She could see their faces. She had not gotten to say goodbye. “For Attempted Murder: Class B, Assault with deadly weapon: Class B and Obstruction and attempt of escape: Class C. Your charges are as follows,” The devil rumbled. And, for the first time, Avaline felt ready to die. “Two moon hours of Jailtime. One-thousand minas fine. Banishment till a sum of materials worth labour to the sum of two-thousand five-hundred minas worth of work is paid, as well as half of your hair as a blood tribute.” Avaline looked up at the devil. She had no time to comprehend that she had not been sentenced to death before the immensity of the fine was laid on her. Her family was destitute. A one-thousand mina fine? She could not possibly do this to them. Death would have been preferable, even. Avaline shook her head desperately. “That is my verdict. And I shall be put in writing with your blood as a seal.” “Be lucky thy brother is more merciful than I.” The trapdoor was shut once more, and Avaline was left to accept the immensity of what had just occurred. She was allowed to live. She put the thought of the heavy fine aside for one moment, reveling in her survival. A thought crept into her mind, then. If this was the Empire. I would not even have been questioned. I would have been beheaded. And yet, they let me live. …why? A moment later, the devil reentered the cell, with a piece of paper in his hand. “Your hand,” He commanded. Avaline extended her shackled hand as ordered. A dagger was drawn out, and an incision just barely deep enough to draw blood was made on Avaline’s thumb. She flinched, reeling at the sight of the blood. “Read, then sign. This is your debt. Once sighed, turn around for your hair to be cut.” Avaline read over the paper. It outlined the details of her debt clearly: A one-thousand mina fine. Banishment until two-thousand five-hundred minas worth of work is paid. And half of her hair as tribute. She signed with the blood on her thumb, before turning around to allow her hair to be cut. She did not think much of it, until she felt that sharp blade upon her hair, and the weight being lifted from it as half its length was removed. Her hair. What did her hair represent? She would have to think more of it. That hollow feeling in her chest returned. She had taken such great care of her hair… Meanwhile, Leonardo could be heard laughing, making jokes, and conversing with the guards outside. For the first time throughout the entire day, Avaline found herself smiling. She was alive. And so was her brother. Avaline was led out of the cell, only able to catch a fleeting glimpse of her brother, before being forced to pay all the mina she could. She had two-hundred and one to her name; only seven-hundred and ninety-nine remained. And then, she was led out of the gates, and unshackled. Guinevere blinked at her short hair in confusion. “Are there any questions you have?” The dark elf, who had led her outside, asked. Avaline shook her head, slowly, clutching the hole in her heart. The maehr disappeared back into the city gates, leaving Avaline once more to the wilderness. •───────────────────•°•❀•°•───────────────────• Avaline rode through the wilderness, as fast as she could, tears trailing behind her. She was quite the skilled rider; it was one of the few things that her sickness had not taken from her, her ability to ride. She had not a penny to her name, her beautiful hair was gone, and there was an empty hole in her heart. And yet, despite everything, despite her tears, she smiled the whole way home. •───────────────────•°•❀•°•───────────────────• “Good eve, sister,” Spoke a merry Eugenie as Avaline arrived back in Saint Godwinsburg as she eyed Avaline’s travelling garb with confusion. “You return home late.” Avaline felt herself collapse to her knees, and the tears began to fall once more. “...Eugenie.” •───────────────────•°•❀•°•───────────────────•

Okay so. I haven't read the entire thing, so forgive me if I'm missing anything. But quite simply, this cannot work. Don't get me wrong. I love the idea and if it could be flawlessly implemented, I might even go as far as to say it might be better for the server and make naval warfare much more interesting. But like Xarkly said. The essence of good conflict is simplicity. This is already visible on a much smaller scale, with the example of wars; PvP resolves conflict much faster than CRP. There is a balance that has to be made between complicated, fun roleplay and simple, engaging gameplay. This wonderful system you have come up with, unfortunately, blows this balance out of the water. It's clear you've put a looot of thought into this, so I do feel terrible just saying "oh yeah this can never work," but if a system like this were to be implemented, this very post would have to be at least a sixth, or even a seventh (heh) of the length. Don't get me wrong. You've done a really great job, and a system like this might work on its own server that is based around this system, or a new video game entirely. I just don't think this is viable in terms of LOTC. As a (former) pirate fleet admiral (self-appointed, heh), I think that rp, in essence, should maintain that balance between complicated roleplay and simple dopamine-inducing fun, and I think there's a lot of work that is necessary on this system before that balance is reached. Only the best of luck with this! I really like where it's going.

An Cheong-Won would be found at the bar, drinking away merrily for the first time in forever. "It is a wonderful day!" She declared. "Ahahahahahaha!"

Avaline Marie Helvets, elder sister to the wonderful Eugenie, smiled the sun's smile as the missive was delivered to her through the mail. It was a bright and sunny day; perfect weather to receive such fantastic news. Avaline tucked the missive gently away into a drawer, before stepping outside of the Helvets estate, taking in a deep breath to alleviate her lungs of the suffocating pressure of her room. "Oh, Eugenie," She spoke with a soft exhale, clasping her hands together as she gazed up at the sky. "How quickly you've grown." =+={}=+= The door to the Aldor home flew open shortly thereafter, to reveal a panting Avaline, who had to support herself on the wall next to her as sweat trickled down her brow. "I came here as fast as I could," The lady spoke, short of breath. A second copy of the missive, which she had somehow mysteriously obtained, was shoved in Rothwin and Roswyn's faces. "Look! My sister is getting married," She boasted. @0mnip0tent@NovumChase

Insert witty comment about voidcels here

OOC: “Um - okay. Rest well.” “I will.” The door closed, and Rothwin was gone. A sinking feeling began to settle into Avaline’s chest. She wasn’t quite sure why it was there, or what the feeling was. She felt her heart shrinking, though was all too acutely aware of the other person in the room. “Apologies,” She told Roswyn, at last turning to the other Aldor sibling. “…It is no worry, Avaline,” Roswyn returned in kind, though a heavy blanket of awkwardness sat in the air. Unsure of what to do, Avaline could only return to the couch and collapse into it. All of a sudden, everything began to unravel. “…I am very sorry, Roswyn. I do not know what is wrong with me.” “What do you mean? –There is something wrong with you..?” Avaline leaned heavily against her knees, resting her forehead on her palm. She felt weak, though she was no stranger to the feeling of lethargy. “Did I interrupt something..?” Edith, who had mysteriously appeared, asked cautiously. And then, it all began to spill, like a glass cup of water shattering against the floor. “I have been so emotional lately. I fear I am losing my composure as a lady. Though the people are the same and the places are the same, I feel I have missed so, so much in my absence.” Something caught in her throat, and she had to clear it several times over. An incessant reminder of those years trapped in the prison that was her room. “…Perhaps I am simply overthinking.” “No, do not worry Edith…” Roswyn quietly dismissed her sister before turning her attention back to Avaline. “…Well, overthinking in what, might I ask?” There was a strange hesitation in Roswyn’s words, as though she knew something Avaline did not. Avaline’s chest tightened, and for a moment, she could not breathe. “I… am not sure. I just have this terrible feeling… as though the world is changing too fast and I was left behind back in the time before I fell ill.” Once the words began to flow, they could not stop. Somewhere in the back of Avaline’s mind, a voice told her to stop, that this was not the time nor place to spill her feelings messily all over the floor, but the floodgates had opened. “Is it silly? To think that people change when on the outside, they appear and act the same?” A gentle silence fell over the room, before Roswyn finally spoke. “Three years, Avaline. It has been three years… things do change in such a period of time. It is not something that you can fault yourself for. You had not a clue you might fall ill so long.” Avaline’s fingers danced between themselves involuntarily, vigorously knitting themselves together. “I am so afraid, all the time, of something terrible happening. When you come that close to death, Roswyn, it is not kind to the mind. When I attended the Imperial wedding today, I felt trapped - so many faces I did not know, so many processions I was not familiar with. It was suffocating. I feel as though I do not know anyone, I do not even know myself. I thought that, when I recovered, everything would return to normality- but now, I do not remember how the world works.” Only when she said it did she realize it was true. She was so, so afraid; so afraid, all the time. That was the sinking feeling, she realized; the feeling that something terrible was to happen. All the faces that she did not know, the unfamiliar society that she returned to. It truly was suffocating. Roswyn exhaled gently. “You will learn once more, and trudge forwards. You have such a life ahead of you now.” “I suppose this is all just a roundabout way to say,” Avaline found herself continuing on, “That I do not feel I belong anywhere. Oh, and it is so lonely, Roswyn.” It was lonely. It was so, so lonely… •───────────────────•°•❀•°•───────────────────• “Leonardo,” Avaline called out, her voice laced heavy with pain. “Yes? Dear sister.” The rough voice of her twin brother called in response. “Oh… how I've missed you…” Her head pounding in her ears and her head burning with a deathly fever, she collapsed into Leonardo’s arms, unable to support herself on her feet any longer. “You missed me? Why does that seem very unlikely and what's wrong with you?” Leonardo demanded, as blunt as he usually was, blinking dully at Avaline. “Where have you been?” Avaline forced her eyes upwards to stare into Leonardo’s single eye; their eyes were the same. Avaline had always found that interesting. “…I have been ill, brother. Deathly ill.” “Well, I’ve just been around, let’s say that I moved out of the castle and got a home elsewhere – and what are you sick with and does it spread?” He pulled a bit of his cloak over his mouth and nose. Avaline would have been annoyed by this, perhaps, but she was in too much pain to care. It was the first time she had felt “well” enough, if she could even be considered well, to go outside of the house, and seeing family was a blessing she could only have dreamed of in the months past. “We are poor, Leonardo.” This much was true; or at least, Avaline was. She had been unable to afford a proper doctor, blissfully unaware that the Empire had free healthcare. “I could not afford a doctor, so I could do nothing but read medical self-help texts and rot in my bed. This has gone on for over a year, Leonardo. I have only recently begun to feel well enough to step outside…” “Will I get sick or not if I'm near you, and what plagues you?” Leonardo spoke some more, emotionlessly. Avaline’s heart broke just a little; she thought her brother would care, at least a tiny bit, that his sister was just about dying. He certainly was not acting the part. “I do not know,” Avaline spoke honestly. Her heart crushed by the sheer amount of weariness in his tone, she forced herself to pull away; even though standing on her feet brought a wave of vertigo washing over her, and she wobbled, threatening to fall over. “I could not afford a doctor, Leonardo. No one came to check on me. I could not get diagnosed. It could be cancer and I would not know.” She felt tears forming at the corners of her eyes. She needed family now, more than ever; and here he was, rejecting her entirely. “Find one of those uruk shamans – or don't, they might kill you. Or just keep waiting – it seems you're getting better, from what you say.” “I am so, so tired. I have forced myself out of my bed to feel the outside air.” She shakily spread her arms wide, taking in the outside world for the first time in almost two years. “Oh, but how nice it is…” “Yes, nice, weather is good and all, but there's still a war about,” Leonardo spoke rather bluntly once more. The war? A million thoughts rushed through Avaline’s head, which only made her headache worse. Was Leonardo going to go fight? Was he going to get hurt? However much she hated him, she loved him, too; she could not bear to see Leo fallen at the hands of the baby-eaters. “The war does not concern us. Unless you are going to go out and kill the baby-eaters? Oh, please do not get eaten, Leonardo.” “Not exactly, but something of the sort.” “Please do not get eaten,” Avaline begged of him. With her sickness came a strange vulnerability, and her truths spilled from her maw like water. She could not hold herself up any longer, and so she moved to support herself against a nearby pillar. “It appears I am disturbing you. Go, then; do what you will. I suppose I shall go rot in bed some more.” Leonardo grinned, then; and it was a wonderful sight. Involuntarily, Avaline found herself smiling weakly back. “Come on, you big baby, I want to speak with you anyway. Let’s go to the castle – that should work, unless the sick woman has business in town?” Avaline’s heart soared – at last, recognition. “Oh, okay. . .” He supported her all the way to the Helvets estate; walking to Saint Godwinsburg all on her own had been torture, and the walk back was a little more bearable with her brother’s support. When they finally arrived back home, Avaline’s face was deathly pale, and beads of sweat trickled down her temple. The walk had taken its toll on her. “Oh… I do not feel well…” “Take deep breaths.” Avaline attempted so, drawing in a deep, shuddering breath; though her breath ended up coming out shallow, a reminder of her weak lungs. This brought her into a coughing fit, and it seemed as though she would almost cough up her insides. Her features white, she slumped upon the table. “But when you asked if I plan to run off and kill baby eaters – in fact, it's quite the opposite. I found myself in Urguan, fighting the empire, and insulting the emperors mother,” Leonardo grinned at the fallen Avaline, as though it was the best news in the world. Avaline felt her heart break. Her illness – which she would later learn, upon her recovery, was pneumonia – festered. Memories came back to her; the first time she had returned from boarding school, the times he had made her cry. And now, here he was, telling her that he had left all that behind, just to fight against the Crown. That rage, that devastation, swiftly turned to concern. What would they do to him if they found him? She quickly sat up, though that brought its own wave of vertigo, and she groaned, collapsing once more. She felt the tears begin to run down her cheeks; and as she cried, her breaths caught in her throat, threatening to suffocate her. It was painful; it was painful. “I ought to turn you in. You cannot simply defeat the Emperor. . . You are going to die, Leonardo. You are fighting for the wrong side.” She steadied her voice as much as possible, though the pain was getting worse and worse. “Well, I came in search of any family, really, so they know I'm not dead – just no longer an Imperial. And you just so happened to be that family, and go ahead turn me in. I’ll be long gone before you find someone who has the authority to come out here and get me, and to be truthful, I do not care if we defeat the emperor or not – I am allying with the right side of this war. If that means my death then so be it – but I am fighting on the right side for myself.” Leonardo’s speech left Avaline, well, speechless. Then, a terrible thought occurred to her; when the authorities he spoke of found out, what would they do to her? Being his family… What would they do to Father? To their siblings? “They are going to kill us,” Avaline spoke weakly. “They are going to kill Father, they are going to kill Theodora, they are going to kill Eugenie, for being your family. Have you not thought about that? You have quite literally sentenced our entire family to death. Please, Leonardo. It is not too late…” “Let’s be frank – Father was horrible at being a father. I don't give a damn if he dies, and for the rest of you, it's not too late to leave before it's too far. You can escape the evil that is the Empire – and I have faith that the dwarves and orcs are not so brutal as to kill innocents,” Leonardo cut her off, speaking confidently. The pieces of Avaline's already shattered heart were smashed further with a sledgehammer. “You have killed us, Leonardo. We are all going to die, because of your selfishness.” She sobbed and sobbed, grief overtaking her. There was, unfortunately, only one option left. “I need to report you. Then, perhaps, they will spare us…” She rose to her feet, fighting the waves of vertigo and the blur in her vision, and stumbled downstairs. “For ****’s sake, I knew I should have just disappeared,” Leonardo cursed at her as she stumbled towards the door. This was for Leonardo’s own good, she told herself; if the pressure caused him to turn himself in, then perhaps they would spare him. If he never came back, perhaps he would live. “I must ride for the capital. If you turn yourself in, they may let you off with a whipping…” “Stop, Avaline. You don't need to tell a soul,” Leonardo spoke desperately behind her. “It is my duty, as a lady of the Empire. You may come with me, if you wish. Turn yourself in. Then, you will survive.” The tears were endless, and so was the pain, and so was the grief. Her brother was already dead. “Please, Leonardo.” Leonardo’s gaze turned to steel as Avaline turned to meet him one last time. “Alright, well, let’s be clear here. If you walk out that door, I disappear for good, and I can promise you that not a soul in the empire will see me again.” It was a heavy ultimatum. Avaline had to consider it, if only for a moment, though the answer was clear. Avaline walked out the door and began to mount her steed, Guinevere. It took her several minutes; she found herself lacking the strength to get on, and she fell several times. At last, she finally found herself sitting upon the saddle; and she collapsed upon the horse’s neck. She gazed down at him from her position, sweating. “…Know that I love you, Leonardo. And this is for your own good. Know that you may turn yourself in at any time.” The horse began to trot off; it already knew where to go. “…And I suppose this is goodbye.” Leonardo was still, until he was not. He flicked his hood up and began to vanish into the woods of the night. “So be it then, dear sister. If you change your mind, send a bird – specifically an ivory owl.” And with that, her twin brother was gone. Perhaps forever. •───────────────────•°•❀•°•───────────────────• The days passed in a blur. Somewhere along the way, Avaline found herself given an alchemical cure by Her Excellency, the physician Andromeda. She found herself speaking to an official of the Empire, and securing her family’s safety in exchange for Leonardo’s. She found herself fully recovered, she found herself speaking with Rothwin again, she found herself attending an Imperial wedding, she found herself returning to some normalcy of life. And yet, Leonardo… She snapped back to attention, and suddenly, she was sitting in the room with Roswyn again, with the Aldor woman inspecting her curiously. Oh, what was she saying? “But - but!” She rectified as swiftly as she could. Now was not the time to be vulnerable. “You are right, most certainly. I am recovered, and I have a life ahead of me, now. There is no use dwelling on the past!” She swiftly rose to her feet, terribly self-conscious all of a sudden. “I shall bother you no longer. Do let me know if you need anything!” Roswyn did not react much to this sudden shift in demeanor, only smiling gently. “Of course, Dear Avaline. Do write, or knock, if you ever need anything… I will be there posthaste. Do let me walk you out, yes?” The next moment, Avaline was standing outside the door, waving Roswyn goodbye. “Sorry for the bother, Roswyn. I do not know what came over me. Have a wonderful day!” “You are no bother, I do promise. You have my word. My offer would not stand as it does if you were," Roswyn returned, before disappearing back into the Aldor estate. •───────────────────•°•❀•°•───────────────────• The merry smile that Avaline wore dissipated like sugar on the tongue the moment the door closed. She turned, wrapping her arms around herself. She had wanted to look pretty, having worn her new dress, but it was apparently unwise, for the winter wind bit at her now, poking at her skin like needles. It was a long walk of shame back to the estate. She recalled when she had carried out the very same walk alongside Leonardo, with him supporting her. It felt like an eternity ago. •───────────────────•°•❀•°•───────────────────• Avaline returned back to the comfort of her room, if one could call it that. She hated the sight of it; the walls looked like prison bars to her and the pleasant aroma of her scented candles was suffocating. She fell onto her bed. She had come to associate the scent of the clean sheets with death, and she hated every second of it. She trembled violently; and before she knew it, the pillow began to stain with her tears. Something terrible was going to happen. She could feel it. But for now, all she could do was let sleep take her.

"Flaaowni-nim..." Cheong-Won spoke out, her hands shaking as she held the missive. She shook her head. The spirits would watch over Flaaowni. And that was enough.

[The Forest-Cradled People of Won] OOC: [1 - Introduction] Since the dawn of time, as ancient as the rise of the first Li-Ren kingdoms, the Forest-Cradled Salamdeul (사람들) established themselves on the southern shores of Ai-Zho. Isolated by mountains to the North and the open seas to the South, it was there that their culture flourished - albeit still influenced by the early Li-Ren. It was a time long before the Ship-Born arrived with the concept of a singular God, a time when the people worshipped the land and its elements. It was here that the first spirits of the Pantheon of the Forest-Cradled spoke to the Salamdeul, and that sacred bond between man and spirit was forged. When the Ship-Born came from overseas, it was then that the nation of Cunyuan, hereby referred to as what it is called in Won-Eo, Chonwon (촌원), came into being; the union of these two fated peoples. Culture became muddled and mixed, and yet, tucked away in those valleys and hills, hidden away as the rest of Ai-Zho continued to develop its history, that early Forest-Cradled culture continued to flourish in small communities and villages. While the most primitive form of the Forest-Cradled is almost nonexistent at this point and is, for the vast majority, mixed in with various influences from the Li-Ren, Oyashi, and most prevalently the Ship-Born, a deep study into that early culture reveals much about what, perhaps, it truly means to be Won-In (원인). [2 - The Land of Won] The natural land of Won, in comparison to the land claimed by the other residents of Ai-Zho, is quite small, enclosed off on nearly all sides by natural barriers. Off to the north, a rugged mountain chain forms the northern boundary of Won - separating what is today the nation of Chonwon from Zhourrenia and Oyashima. While this border did not deter later Oyashi raiders from finding their way through and around the mountains, this did create a natural wall that historically protected the Forest-Cradled people from outside influence. These peaks are steep and have dense forests on the southern slopes, where early Salamdeul culture flourished, hidden away in the forested valleys. In the south, the fertile plains meet the open sea, giving way to long coasts of both rocky and sandy beaches, fishing villages, small cliffs and river deltas. This coast is most likely where the Ship-Born first landed, forming the cultural identity that is the Salamdeul today. The interior of the lands of Won which are now better known as the nation of Chonwon are dominated by dense forests, rolling foothills and fertile river basins. It was here that the very first Salamdeul came into contact with the spirits of the forest, forming the Pantheon of the Forest-Cradled. These ancient, humid forests acted as the cradle for early animist and spirit-worshipping culture, and is where the Forest-Cradled people get their name from. Descending from the northern mountains come various forested hills, coming to form terraced farmland, hidden mountain shrines and small, communal villages. And, of course, at the heart of any civilization there is water; several north-south rivers run from the mountains to the sea, creating fertile land well-suited for rice, barley and early settlements. This relative geographic isolation is likely why the Forest-Cradled traditions were able to remain so intact even as the Ship-Born and Li-Ren cultures spread across Ai-Zho, forming quite literally a “cradle” for the Salamdeul to flourish. The land of Won has hot, humid summers and freezing winters that come with heavy snowfall. Lots of rain and snow marks the months of the year and dense deciduous and coniferous forests are spread throughout the land. [3 - The Regions and Provinces of Won] While this study is not a study of Chonwon itself, it is worth noting the different regions and provinces that make up the land of Won. In the northeastern corner of Chonwon, there lies the Cheongeun-dong-do (천근동도) - with the mountains to the north and the Cheon river to the south. At its western border is the Cheongeun-seo-do (천근서도) - the western counterpart of the Cheongeun-dong-do, with the mountains to the north, the Cheon River (천강) to the east and the Won River (원강) to the south. Wedged in between the southern borders of the two Cheongeun-dos, there is the smallest province, the Jungso-do (중소도), in between the two rivers. Below Jungso-do lies the Mansu-do (만수도), with the Won River to the north and On River (온강) to the west, and the open ocean to the south. Bordering the Cheongeun-seo-do and the Jungso-do to the north and the Mansu-do to the east lies the Pyeongsan-do (평산도). To the south of the Pyeongsando lies the open fields of Nongbok-do (농복도), which also borders the ocean to the south. Finally, making up almost the entirety of Chonwon’s western border is the Daejeon-do (대전도), with the mountains and Cheongeun-seo-do to the north, the Pyeongsan-do and Nongbok-do to the east and the ocean to the south. Cheongeun-dong-do, boxed in by the rugged northern mountains and the Cheon River, is one of the oldest centers of Salamdeul settlement. Upon the mountains are terraced farmlands, mountain fortresses and villages and cliffside shrines. The people of Cheongeun-dong-do are known for their cultural conservatism and shamanism, with many of the ancient Forest-Cradled traditions originating from this region. The western counterpart of Cheongeun-dong-do, Cheongeun-seo-do is also at the base of the northern mountains. This region forms a natural crossroads between the mountain and lowland cultures, with broad valleys and river terraces. This region is known for its strength; woodworkers, bowmakers, archers and warriors. Historically, the people of Cheongeun-seo-do acted as the first buffer against the Oyashi raiders that came through the passes in the mountains, hence their warrior culture. Jungso-do, the smallest province, lies between the Cheon and Won rivers, forming a relatively narrow strip of land of fertile wetlands and clustered villages. Despite its small size, the region of Jungso-do is quite influential, controlling movement between the northern mountains and the southern coasts via the Won river that flows all the way from the north to the south. For this reason, Jungso-do is a central hub of culture where large festivals are often held, and is known for its boatmen and river shrines. South of Jungso-do is the Mansu-do province, with windswept coasts and wide rivers. This province was the legendary landing site of the Ship-Born Salamdeul, and many of these coastal towns are now predominantly taken by Ship-Born culture. Mansu-do is marked by rocky cliffs, fishing villages, sandy beaches and early overseas trading harbors. The people of Jungso-do are known for their seamanship, boat-building and worship for God rather than the spirits; a sure sign of their Ship-Born ancestors. Bordering the Cheongeun-seo-do, Jungso-do and Mansu-do is the Pyeongsan-do province, a land of orchards, hills and sprawling forest clearings. Serving as a transition between the more traditional north and the shifting south, Pyeongsan-do is where different Salamdeul cultures all come together. Several versions of both spiritualism and the worship of God are observed unique to Pyeongsan-do, different traditions being borrowed from others. South of Pyeongsan-do lies the farming province of Nongbok-do, the granary of Chonwon. The open, fertile plains make for ideal farmland, with coastal winds and rich river soils. Nongbok-do produces much, if not the majority of Chonwon’s rice, barley and grains. While the culture of Nongbok-do is always shifting due to the Ship-Born influences from Mansu-do to the east, the ships from Zhourrenia that dock at their shores and the influences of Pyeongsan-do from the north, the culture of the Salamdeul from Nongbok-do is always deeply rooted in farming, with several agricultural rites observing the seasons and the harvest. And finally, forming the entire western border of Chonwon lies Daejeon-do, ranging from forested foothills in the north to coastal lowlands in the south. Daejeon-do is known for its unique dialect and customs, influenced by the waves of migrations coming from the west in the early years of Chonwon. This province historically acted as the first line of defense from the west and the outer face of the Salamdeul to the rest of the world, accepting migrations from both the west and the southern seas. These seven provinces make up what is today the nation of Chonwon, but also represent the ancient borders set by the first Forest-Cradled Salamdeul. [4 - Philosophy] The Won-In philosophy centers around harmony - between people, nature, ancestors, and the self. The Won-In culture is shaped not by power and conquest, but by restraint. They believe that a life well lived is not a loud one, but a well-balanced and humble one, and their teachings emphasize honor in humility, wisdom through tradition, and peace through discipline. Suryeon (수련) - The Reverence of Learning To study is to sharpen the soul. All knowledge is sacred to the Salamdeul; even a child is often expected to recite proverbs and familial teachings. Elders are not seen as rulers, but as keepers of knowledge, and all questions are signs of wisdom; not challenge. Wisdom is shared through community and is passed down through family. The wiseman is stronger than the warrior. Innae (인내) - To Endure With Grace Innae teaches that true strength lies in perseverance. The Salamdeul have great respect for those that survive the coldest of winters without a trace of bitterness, those who speak plainly rather than proudly. Patience is not passive; it is an act against chaos. One must live with quiet strength and firm perseverance. Johwa (조화) - Harmony and Intention The Won-In believe that though life should have order, it should not be rigid. A carefully-arranged home, a beautiful poem, a family seated in proper respect; these things reflect an inner balance. When each part does its role well, the world becomes beautiful; and so everything must be tended to with great care and beauty, for when the table is clean, the heart eats in peace. Gonggyeong (공경) - Honor to Those Before Honoring the ancestors and elders is more than just ritual; it is the very soul of identity. Blood runs through more than just bodies; it runs through land, duty and memory. A good life is one that adds honor to the family name; and a shameful act tarnishes not only the self, but those that come before and after. This is also why it is so crucial to respect one’s elders; as one was not, and will never be, born alone. [5 - Society] The societal structure that is seen in Chonwon today is perhaps the strongest aspect of the original Forest-Cradled culture that has carried onto the modern day. A look into the history of the class system of Won reveals that this system predates the creation of Chonwon itself, having carried over from the systems of the very first Forest-Cradled settlers. The society of the first Won-In settlers, and thus Chonwon, is rigidly stratified. At the very top of the social ladder, excluding, of course, royalty, are the yangban (양반) - the elite and hereditary ruling class. They are civil and military officials and claim descent from prestigious clans of old. They practice strict veneration for the ancestors as well as genealogical record-keeping, putting an emphasis on upholding the family name. In the middle are the jungin (중인), quite literally meaning the “middle people” - they often hold special roles in society, being specialists, but lacking yangban status. They are physicians, scribes, and technicians; and it is commonplace for these jungin to attempt climbing the social hierarchy through wealth. Below the jungin are the sangmin (상민), or the commoners. Being farmers, artisans and merchants, the sangmin make up the vast majority of the population, and while they are morally praised for upholding the foundations of the state, in reality, they pay heavy taxes, bear the burden of military conscription, have limited legal protection and are controlled heavily by local elites. At the very bottom of the social ladder are the cheonmin (천민). These are butchers, entertainers, and nobi (노비) - serfs. Like all the other social classes, one can be made a cheonmin by birth, but also as punishment for criminal behavior or because of financial insolvency. Nobi are treated as property - able to be sold and given away - but are considered as valuable as real estate and have a basic set of human rights such as marriage. At the heart of it all lies the gwageo (과거), a rigorous exam that determines who gets to work in the royal court. In a society with such a rigid class system, the gwageo is strangely a meritocracy - anyone who is able to pass gets the honor of working in the royal court. While in theory, this does allow for sangmin to obtain a better life for themselves, in reality, the gwageo is, for the most part, dominated by the yangban class. [6 - Clans] The clans of the Forest-Cradled are much more than simply families, and are almost difficult to comprehend for those unfamiliar with Easterner culture. A clan is defined by more than just a seong (성), or family name, in Forest-Cradled culture, for many clans share the same seong. A clan is also defined by a bongwan (본관) - place of origin. For example, the surname Kim (김) may be shared across different clans, but the Kim clan from Nongbok-do may be different from the Kim clan from Mansu-do. Within a province, there may also be more local clans; the region of Jeongmi (정미) within the province of Cheongeun-dong-do may have its own surname, for instance, An (안). This would be referred to as “Jeongmi An-ssi” (정미 안씨). Even if two families are not genealogically connected, if they share the same seong and bongwan, they are considered part of the same clan. Naturally, marriage within the clan is prohibited even if they are not related by blood. Clans serve both social and political functions - a yangban clan may maintain its status through the clan, and different political factions may be tied to certain clans. The structure of these clans is incredibly complex. At the heart of the entire clan lies the jongga (종가), or the “head house” of the clan. The jongga is passed down onto the eldest son and holds great prestige. For example, the very first Jongmi An-ssi house that was referenced prior would hold the founder’s spirit tablets, perform major ancestral rites and rituals and preserve genealogical records. While the jongga would be passed down onto the eldest son, the other sons would be free to go live on their own, returning to the jongga for important festivals and rites. Daughters, of course, were married off and became parts of other clans. Reasonably, the responsibility of the jongga is incredibly heavy; financial, social and ritual; and so it is commonplace for lineages to pour resources into maintaining a jongga’s reputation, for the jongga represents the clan itself. Sometimes, if a clan becomes too large, one of the younger sons might split off and create their own branch of the clan, known as a pa (파). Each pa acts mostly independent of the jongga but still owes cultural heritage to the head house. Within pas there may also be separate jongjungs (종중), allowing for a single clan to be split into several different households and lineages. Each jongjung carries out its own ancestral rites and manages their graves. For yangban clans, maintaining a jokbo (족보), or genealogy, is one of the defining acts of claiming elite status. A jokbo typically contains direct male-line ancestors, collateral branches of the clan, offices held by ancestors, marriages and clan founder legends. These genealogies not only prove yangban status but determine marriage eligibility, ritual rank, and provide a narrative of noble origin. [7 - Festivals] Traditionally, there are three major festivals throughout the saint’s year; chuseok, seollal and dano. Chuseok (추석), celebrated on the fifteenth day of the eighth month of the lunar calendar, is the Won version of thanksgiving, in which people celebrate the harvest and gather their families, honor ancestors, and enjoy traditional foods and activities. Families perform Charye (차례), a traditional ancestral rite, and clean and visit graves. They share freshly harvested fruits and foods to express gratitude and offer all sorts of rice, fruit and grains to the spirits. Songpyeon (송편) - sweet rice cake - as well as seasonal fruits such as persimmons, jujubes and pears are all foods often associated with Chuseok. People play games such as Ganggangsullae (강강술래), circles dances under a full moon, as well as traditional wrestling known as ssireum (씨름). Won, being renowned as it is for its archers, also observes archery games alongside other rural festivities. Seollal (설날), celebrated on the first day of the new year of the lunar calendar, is likely be the biggest Won festival and holiday. Families also perform Charye during Seollal, as well as Sebae (세배), a deep bow from younger generations to elders, often accompanied by gifts of money. Traditional dishes like rice cake soup are eaten, symbolizing growing a year older. Seollal is a time for reflection, expressing gratitude, and wishing a prosperous new year. People wear brand-new traditional clothing to symbolize a new beginning and tell each other “Sehae bok manee badeusaeyo!” (새해 복 많이 받으세요), meaning “receive many blessings this year!” People play a traditional board game known as yutnori (윳놀이) and play games such as Jaegichagi (재기차기), which consists of keeping a shuttlecock-like object called a Jaegi (재기) in the air for as long as possible by only kicking it. Kite flying and top spinning are also very commonplace! Finally, there is Dano (단오), a traditional holiday celebrated on the fifth day of the fifth month of the lunar calendar. It marks the end of the spring sowing season and is the beginning of the summer growing season and is believed to be a day of positive yang energy. Traditionally, customs for Dano include washing the hair with changpo (창포) (aromatic iris) water, wearing angelica polymorpha flowers, and wearing red and blue clothes alongside traditional games. These three festivals mark important times of the saint’s year for the Forest-Cradled peoples and are times for celebration, family and renewal. [8 - Conclusion] At its heart, the story of the Forest-Cradled people of Won is one of endurance - a people shaped by the natural world around them and the quiet guidance of the spirits. While centuries of change have made Chonwon the nation it is today, the foundation laid by the first Forest-Cradled communities are unmistakable. The Forest-Cradled reverence for harmony and ancestry hums through every aspect of life. Despite several invasions, wars, internal shifts as well as the arrival of the Ship-Born, the Forest-Cradled culture remains strong today, in quiet, tucked away communities hidden from the outside world’s influence. While foreign ideas blended into their worldview with time, it was, ultimately, the Forest-Cradled that first lit the path of the Salamdeul. Many Forest-Cradled Won-In have adapted to the modern era, taking on traditions influenced by foreign migrants as well as their Ship-Born brethren, but if one were to walk through a Won-In village, one might still catch a shrine dedicated to a spirit or a festival or marriage going on. Then, to study the Forest-Cradled people is not merely a study of Chonwon, or of the Salamdeul, but a deep dive into how land, spirit and tradition carries across generations. The legacy of the first Forest-Cradled settlers of Won is prevalent not only in those ancient shrines and genealogical records, but the living, breathing Won-In culture of today; resilient and forever faithful to the culture that defined them. [9 - Additional Reading] The spirits were a key part of the most primitive form of Forest-Cradled culture and religion. See below for additional information on the Pantheon of the Forest-Cradled. https://www.lordofthecraft.net/forums/topic/261382-the-pantheon-of-the-forest-cradled/ For more information on the history of Chonwon, modern-day Won-In culture and the Ship-Born, see below. https://www.lordofthecraft.net/forums/topic/241486-culture-the-salamdeul/ And finally, for a deep study into the language of Won, Won-eo, see below. https://www.lordofthecraft.net/forums/topic/241848-culture-the-language-of-the-people/ Credits Metamancy - Ideation and Writing Metamancy’s Mother - Ideation and Information Cally - Formatting and Images

shilling for zealots

THE WINDS OF FIARZA BLEW ON. -+-{}-+- A certain shaman arrived back in the lands of Kurai-Kuni, her pilgrimage finally complete. Her first stop, of course, was Junmura, where so many of her people resided. And the first house she visited was, of course, Onion's. With an excited heart and ready to greet the young girl, Cheong-Won stepped up to the door, hand already raised to knock. And suddenly, her wide eyes half-closed, her broad smile faltered, and she took a step back. That perpetually-warm expression of hers shifted into one of bitterness. Pain. Onion DeGlazi. No, to Cheong-Won, she was still Oh Yang-Pa. -+-{}-+- "Eomma." And yet, strangely, it was Areum's voice that spoke to her as she read upon those words, not Onion's. Strange, that. "Eomma, how are we going to live in an Empire that kills innocents?" Cheong-Won had not known how to answer. "...Areum-a, to me, the most important thing is that you survive. You cannot challenge the Empire, alright?" -+-{}-+- "...alright?" Cheong-Won spoke out to the empty air. Lost in her memories, she did not realize she was reliving the conversation out loud until a fox nudged at her feet. She looked down. On-ssi. Cheong-Won sighed, the weight of the past, present and future weighing on her aged shoulders. The fox scurried off, and she was left gazing at Onion's handwriting once more. "...ttalcheoreom," Cheong-Won declared, "Ajummaneun neoreul saranghandanda."

An Cheong-Won sat herself down before the fire, closing her eyes and muttering a prayer. "Skaatord, sûslaiumuizishu. Daduzgogh, kaalmûl." The fire flickered behind her eyes as sparks of flame began to fall from her hair, landing softly on the grass around her. A voice on the wind. A whisper from a traveller. A command from a spirit. The fire in her eyes burned brighter. Yhl'Flaaowni. Luthien. Motsham. Names echoed in her ears. People that, due to the war, she perhaps would never see again. Her eyes hardened. Areum. Shuji. Mikaze-ssi. Ena-nim. Names echoed in her ears. It was time to go back home.

rep farm rep farm!

Avaline Marie Helvets, a lady of Alba, shakily rose to her feet from her bed to retrieve the daily mail from the front door. She stumbled back to her bed, clutching her feverish forehead, before glancing over the missive. It was humorous, almost. Half-men and orcs, challenging the almighty crown. Hm. There would be no more peace. There would only be blood. She shut her eyes tight at the thought of the thousands of dead dwarves and orcs that would litter the streets of Urguan and the Horde. Her illness festered. . . . . . . The missive was delivered to An Cheong-Won by a weary traveler, who she found on the streets as he lamented and lamented the death of the innocents that would come. Cheong-Won did not care. She left the missive to the winds and left the traveler to mourn. She pulled her hood further over her head and spurred her horse onwards. The spirits called. . . . . . . "Salem - I mean, Admiral!" @Vertigo_Round Silas, no-longer-Admiral of the Praeterian Fleet, called. "Ye gotta see this..."