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MC Name: 198Os Discord: christisking. Image: Description of Image: A portrait of Castille Fontaine, and his wife Genevive Fontaine Dimensions: 2 wide 2 high.
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The Baron looked down upon a copy of the document, pursing his lips as he read across the various laws. Most of them had been common sense within Adria prior, but some, some gave him pause. A singular finger fell to tap the surface of his smooth wooden desk.
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๐ด ๐ฎ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐ฑ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐, Baron of Montereine, and Warden of the North, do seek to hire one Stekvark Lochunskofk for the position of sword-bearer and security of the Family Fontaine. He will be paid a salary per saint's week, discussed and disclosed privately to himself, and the oath-bound and employed of the Family Fontaine. He is to be employed by order of this contract, until one of the following occurs: The employed fails to uphold the honor of the noble house. The employed formally declares desire to leave The employed is missing for more than two saintโs weeks. The employed is arrested. The employed takes the oath of the Fontaines, and earns house-ship.
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๐ด ๐ฎ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐ฑ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐, Baron of Montereine, and Warden of the North, do seek to hire one Godric of Adria for the position of apprentice smith, and consult of the arcane for the Family Fontaine. He will be paid a salary per saint's week, discussed and disclosed privately to himself, and the oath-bound and employed of the Family Fontaine. He is to be employed by order of this contract, until one of the following occurs: The employed fails to uphold the honor of the noble house. The employed formally declares desire to leave The employed is missing for more than two saintโs weeks. The employed is arrested. The employed takes the oath of the Fontaines, and earns house-ship.
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Castille Fontaine read the announcement with lifted brow. Stekvark you crazy bastard, He thought. It appeared the deliberations had been successful. He set his mug of mulled wine down atop the counter top with an- admittedly foolish grin overtaking him, against his will. Oh what a turn of events, the Wicks making a decision I can agree with? If I were a betting man, Iโd be broke.
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๐ด ๐ฎ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐ฑ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐, Baron of Montereine, and humble servant of the people of Adria, do wish to put forth one Stekvark Lochunskofk as candidate for the title of Duke, using my gracious position as a core elector. My support for Stekvark does not come from any sort of familial tie, nor, from a sense of panicked hurry, but instead emerges as a product of my belief that Stekvark fulfills the characteristics necessary for such a role. Stekvark Lochunskofk, renowned for his service t0 Adria in battle has proven his dedication to it's people with his own blood; and most often at the risk of his own life. Stekvark throughout his many times in battle--notably against Simon Peter's Urguan Coalition, and in crusade against the Black Church--has never experienced a loss. Remaining undefeated in such fields of battle, under the banner of Adria, Stekvark has become a symbol of Adria's undaunted exposure, and triumph. Stekvark is not the patriarch of a noble house, and as such has no party actively relying on his guidance, leadership, and presence. Whilst Adria has a history of electing those from noble houses to the position of Duke, I believe it would be prudent in this time of Adrian expansion and rapidly changing diplomacy, to choose a candidate without robbing one of Adria's noble houses of their leadership. This choice would allow for us to keep both the security of unchanging headship within Adria as it stands, whilst filling the position of Duke with a worthy and capable candidate.
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With shaking hands, the newly titled Baron heard the news. A troubled exhale marking his response. Zygmunt Euler, Duke of Adria had given his family a home, and that was a debt Castille would never be able to repay directly. It is often said, that a man is never truly gone until he is forgotten. Zygmunt would never truly be gone, his final act immortalizing him in the hearts of The Fontaines forever. The silence that enveloped Castille, seemed unable to penetrate his brain. Zygmunt had treated them with generosity and kindness, without any need to. They were not kin, nor even people of that fine land, and yet, he had played a role in their prosperity. Zygmunt truly, as every great leader must, reflected the very heart of the people he served. Adria gives, and Zygmunt Euler did in turn. "There is work to be done."
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A NOBLE HOUSE REDEEMED [THE FONTAINE, WICK AGREEMENT]
198Os posted a topic in High Kingdom of Idunia
A NOBLE HOUSE REDEEMED The dissolution of the Fontaines, the rebirth of the Wicks The rain fell steadily as the two men stood in opposition, The noble, and the Shepard. A proposal, a refusal, Dissolution. A delicate dance of words and power, "My family wishes for such," "Mine for other," What family have you? Better united, Than dead. One family the earth one family a dying seed. A final work, Castille Fontaine The Fontaines, of Adria Absolved The formal document appeared penned with expert care The Family Fontaine, alongside the Noble House Wick, do pen this agreement in the hopes of igniting a brighter, more potent future for Idunia, Adria, and it's people. In pursuit of encouraging unity, increasing generosity, and fighting for the peace of the people, The Family Fontaine, relinquishes it's name in order to seek prosperity under the Wick banner. The Fontaines, a family recognized for their contributions to the Duchy of Adria now under this binding agreement, seek full cooperation and unity with the Wicks under the pretense of indistinguishability. - - As a product of this agreement, to ensure peace during the merger, Castille, once head of the Fontaine family is granted the position of HEAD ADVISOR, trusted voice of reason to the Lord, and is granted privilege to pass down said position for the future. Castille is also granted the position of heir to the lordship, however, must return the lordship to a member of Wick blood post-mortem. Should no suitable Wick be found, the lordship would remain inherited by any Wick chosen by Castille. In turn, all familial distinction will be entirely dissolved. The Fontaines, now inseparable from the Wicks, in both name, and common goal. All honors, titles, history, and actions merged. - - As a final, binding agreement to render the true rebirth of the Wick name, the Wick family is bound to induct the oath of the Fontaine family as their own as a signal of a new way, and a true indistinguishable lasting goal. This decision, for the glory, prosperity, and future of the Kingdom of Idunia, The Duchy of Adria, and the noble house Wick, united. Signed, The New, House Wick -
Name: Castille Fontaine Cultural Designation: Adrian Age: 32 (Vote for me it would be really funny)
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Your character has just arrived in a swampy, dim town. As they look around, their gaze is met with shacks and cabins. It smells of rotted wood and wet moss. They duck and step into a tattered tent, illuminated by a series of candles suspended in the air. At the back of the tent, an old hag raises her head, โWhat brings you to this dingy town? She begins, then pauses to study your faceโโAh, itโs you. Iโve been expecting you. Sit,โ she gestures at a cushion, โTell me your story.โ "Yous' been expectin' me?" Bahk glanced down at the cushion in front of him. An uncharacteristic fear spread across the Orc's complexion, as he turned to take a seat. "How's 'at? You- You ain't one of 'em magic folk are yuh'?" He stammered. No reply was given. Bahk sighed, before continuing, his face wet with sweat. "I's just comin' in from the- the weather. It's quite nasty out 'ere." He paused, glancing around the noticeably dingy room. Still better than Bahk was used to. "Well- muh story ain't much to 'ear, but I figures I could tell yuh' the 'gist of it well enough." Bahk cleared his throat, before continuing, quite awkwardly. He wasn't used to talking to humans... or whatever she was. "Grew up quite far from 'ese parts, with muh' brother, 'ese off wanderin' the town." The Orc gestured backward toward the tent entrance. "'Ee's a 'Ooman, not like me." He let out a tent-shaking laugh, his jaw wrenching into a twisted grin as he nearly knocked himself back out the tent. "Him and I grew up together on a small farm-" he waved a hand "Nuffin' you'd know, real small." He paused, correcting himself, staring off almost as if to remember something. "Ooman farm. They growed carrots and the like-." He sighed, glancing with obvious distaste at the floating candles around. "We set off wanderin' to look fer' work, figures it'd be easier in 'ese parts." Adjusting his seat, he grunted. "No luck yet but ee's been havin' uh' blast seein' all the towns' uh' man." He dropped his gaze, sombering a bit. "Not many orc's out 'ere though."
