Esterlen

Hadrien de Sarkozy sits alone in front of his fireplace in an opulent burgundy armchair, his legs folded neatly. He unfolds the missive that had been sent to him, scanning over every penned word with heavy-lidded eyes. He gives the letter a miserly glare as if it had dealt him some great insult. "Good riddance to bad rubbish, if you ask me." He glowers silently, looking around to make sure his wife wasn't within earshot.

Goyim, House de Sarkozy is updated accordingly.

Father Aleksei Vasilyevich Basmanov, who up until this point has remained silent throughout the meeting, bows his head slightly in deference. He raises a hand, signalling for his desire to speak. The clergyman clears his throat, trying to remove all the traces of his foreign accent. "Da. I do not wish to challenge or question the will of His Holiness, but the matter is up for discussion. There are many vacant dioceses, and I would ask most humbly if Your Holiness intends upon having them filled?" He bows his head again, clasping his hands behind his back.

((Brb cutting wrists))

Standing on one of the numerous balconies in the Carrion citadel donning his cassock, the starets looks out over the north. Squinting, he could barely see the Dreadfort, and beyond it the Teutonic keep. He knew what he believed. Death to Hanseti. Remove Teuton. This was about to get real.

The starets, Odac Aleksei Vasilyevich Basmanov, reviews the demands over Lord Siegmund Carrion's shoulder, running his hand through his thick brown beard in contemplation. He licks his lips slightly, giving a nod of affirmation. The priest mutters a few words under his breath in shock as to the circumstances House DeNurem have found themselves in. "Kad se sjetim Hanse..." Assured that the Hochmeister will not bend to Blackmont's demands, he begins to sing the ancient war song. Za Slobodu Carryon ginu hrabri momci, Iz Vogosce, Ilijasa, Raevir dobrovoljci, Za Slobodu Carryon ginu hrabri momci, Iz Vogosce, Ilijasa, Raevir dobrovoljci, Ginu Raev mladi za slobodu grada, Votchina Carryon svi smo sa tobom sada, Ginu Raev mladi za slobodu grada, Votchina Carryon svi smo sa tobom sada,, Nedzarici, Ilidza mnogo su nam dali, Spsku zemlju braneci junacki su pali, Nedzarici, Ilidza mnogo su nam dali, Spsku zemlju braneci junacki su pali, Ginu Raev mladi za slobodu grada, Votchina Carryon svi smo sa tobom sada, Ginu Raev mladi za slobodu grada, Votchina Carryon svi smo sa tobom sada, Grbavica junacka i heroji njeni, Hrabri Raev sa Vraca bice proslavljani, Grbavica junacka i heroji njeni, Hrabri Raev sa Vraca bice proslavljani, Ginu Raev mladi za slobodu grada, Votchina Carryon svi smo sa tobom sada, Ginu Raev mladi za slobodu grada, Votchina Carryon svi smo sa tobom sada.

The Rosenburgs, hidden in the pews looking rather imposing, rub their hands together collectively. Malachai Rosenburg gives Arthal an avaricious glance, the glint in eyes all too prominent as he steeples his fingers. He turns to his comrade Pavel to his left, whispering to him with sinister intent. "Oy vey...perhaps now is the time to bring to the Lord High Treasurer our marriage tax proposal?"

~Carduin Maeyr'onn

((Nobody should know of the details of the will IC except Elhadron Mayliff and Hadrien.))

((MAKE A CHOICE.))

((NORDLORD, WHY DON'T YOU MESSAGE ME ALL OF THIS ON SKYPE, I WAS GOING TO GET GODDARD TO DO IT))

A rather unimposing figure in a typical black garb, Carduin wrings his hands together fervently, smirking in a particularly sinister fashion. He submits his vote into the ballot box without another word. The mali'aheral man quietly contemplates this anonymous electoral process, quickly coming to a conclusion. For the love of our people, Mr. Uradir must win this election! Ones choice for Sohaer: Lucion Sullas Ones Choice for Medi'iran (1): Kalenz Uradir One's choice for Medi'iran (2): Silvos'laurir Sythaerin

A small yet somewhat ornate envelope within which is a neatly penned note is delivered to the following individuals via courier. It bears the white eagle seal of House de Sarkozy, obviously written on command of the Count of Norfolk. All of House Horen, presumably out of courtesy All of House Valois All of House de Sarkozy All of House Stafyr, with the exception of Alistier on the request of Lady Rose. His Holiness Lucien Ashford Lady Julianna Ashford Lord Roland Ashford Lord Gwenael Ashford Grand Marshal Thomas Chivay Lady Lynesse Chivay Lady Rosalie Chivay Lord Edward Chivay Lord Robert Chivay Grandmaster Peter Chivay Baron Siegmund Carrion Diedrik Barrow Marchioness Lorin Blackmont Grand Ser Edmond Brunswick Grand Ser Bran Volsung Ser Jason Clamedeus Sheriff Marcus Briarwood Baron Maric Varodir Lord Siegfried Varodir Baron Jullius Amedaius Lord High Steward Gilneas Vivyaen Lord High Sheriff Shas'O Kais Ishikawa Lord Falias Lavada Ser Borric Tyrus Father Goddard Father Bradislav Archdeacon Guy the Bastard Adeon Fablenight O'd'or Grandaxe Che Zacarias Morg Candridge Hunskil Greydur Drake O'Hara Dvari Troen Venta Temp Thersist Chet Silsbury Elhadron Mayliff Borin Ramirez Romvert To the dearest receiver, Blessings upon you and your house. You have been most cordially invited to union of holy matrimony between Lady Chrestienne of House Valois and Count Hadrien of House de Sarkozy. This union is to be held at the Tov Avev cathedral in the following elven day, in accordance with Imperial tradition and law. Formal dress is expected of guests, and those who are not invited may not attend. Your attendance is both appreciated and eagerly awaited, Deo juvante, Count Hadrien Goldman-Francis of House de Sarkozy, Count of Norfolk, Baron of Aldersberg, Lord Privy Seal of the Holy Oren Empire, Lord of House de Sarkozy, Conseiller of the Order of the White Rose, Lord Secretary of the Westerlands, Archon of House Basileus and heir to the dynasty of the White Eagle and the Crescent Moon of the Rhenyar. Directions to the cathedral are included. ((I'm not quite sure how to coordinate dates such as these ones in-character, so I'll outline the time and date of the event OOC. 5:00 PM Friday, May 3rd in Pacific Standard Time. 8:00 PM Friday, May 3rd in Eastern Daylight Time. (New York, Boston, etcetera.) 10:00 AM Saturday, May 4th in Australian Eastern Standard Time. 1:00 AM Saturday, May 4th in GMT. If you weren't invited and think there was reason IC that you should have been, I've probably forgotten you, so notify me and I'll add you to the list.))

((THANKS FOR THE INVITATION BRAXIS))

Hadrien de Sarkozy scowled as he so commonly did. The routine chore of counting his coins like the old miser he was needed to be undertaken yet again this week. His eye twitched - he had never been good at managing money, but he liked to present a facade to the people and high nobility that he was an ideal treasurer. In truth, Goldman had done all of that work for him. Descending down the short, stone steps into the Great Treasury of Aldersberg, he sighed. Every step he took sent a jolt through his bones - one thing was certain. Lord de Sarkozy was not as athletic or as benevolent as he used to be. Swiftly entering the combination to the redstone mechanism, looking over his shoulder all the while, Hadrien unlocked the immense iron door to the vault. Taking the embossed handle quickly, he gave a light tug and the opulent vault door swung open. He saw it first. It was too large to miss, and knew it was dead. Sarkozy looked down in confusion, muttering something inane under his breath. "Saint Daniel...I...they've...they've killed him!" After pausing for a moment his began to yell, his voice resonating out of the chamber and throughout the main square of Aldersberg. "Guards! Guards!" Hadrien fell to his knees, his face in his hands. It was all falling apart. The Creator was punishing him for his sins. Gisela was gone, Thomas had abandoned him and now his sole remaining friend and ally was gone too. = X = X = X = X = X = X = X = A rabble assembly of nobles and peasants alike had gathered at the plaza in Abresi. They were eager to hear the news, and Hadrien was to deliver it to them. Standing on the pedestal, his nephew Arjen to his left, he placed his arms by his side and began to speak in a somber tone. "I regret to inform the commons that Toveah Goldman, the King of All Merchants, has passed from this realm. He was found dead this morning, and such a cause of death has not yet been ascertained." Hadrien reaches to the pockets of his breeches, removing a thin leaflet of parchment. He brandishes it around wildly as if it is some kind of integral work of art. "I, Hadrien Francis de Sarkozy, Count of Norfolk, have been declared executor of Goldman's will, and accordingly I shall ensure that the properties and funds are distributed as it is written." The nobility present at the rhetoric give a sigh of disapproval, but Sarkozy ignores them brazenly, continuing. As the speech progresses, he begins to gesticulate fervently, his discourse irate. "Furthermore, it is my intention to have constructed a great mausoleum to house his body, along with a magnificent monument to the glory that was Goldman. I shall commission a grand statue befitting of Goldman's grandeur. In addition, to honour him I shall be changing my legal name to Hadrien Goldman de Sarkozy, in memory of the great service that this great man has done to me and my family. For a great man indeed has perished this day, and we should take the utmost care in preserving his memory!"

Out-Of-Character Information Main Account Name: Iorwen Alternate Account Name: Vanhemar How old are you?: 16 Time-Zone: Australian Eastern Standard Time Have you read, understood and agreed to the rules?: I have. What previous experience have you had in role-playing?: I have experience roleplaying in World of Warcraft, Guild Wars 2, and of course Lord of the Craft for the past two years. Definitions In your own words define the following terms. Do not take any definitions from elsewhere!: Role-playing: Roleplaying is playing the role of a fictional character in accordance to the character's personality within the confines of an established world. Meta-gaming: Meta gaming is establishing that your character knows something he cannot possibly know in-character - bringing out-of-character knowledge and utilizing it in-character. Power-emoting: Power-emoting (Or power-gaming) is performing an in-character act which can be considered impossible and/or unfair. An example may include roleplaying the response of another's character to a certain action against their whim or roleplaying as something that is physically impossible. In-Character Information: Complete the following biography on your character: Full Name: Carduin Maeyr'onn Current Age: 87 Race: Elf Sub-race (if any): High elf Past / History: Born to the older brother of the former Okarir'sil of Haelun'or, the madman Nelecar, Carduin was initially of little repute just as his uncle was at the beginning of his rise to prominence. He was mostly unknown within elven circles - a mysterious figure that appeared when he deemed it fit and only then, lacking any real commitment to any race or nation. This was a trait that both the uncle and the nephew shared, until the beginning of Asulon. For after the death of his beloved wife and somewhat less beloved brother in a foray performed by the dreaded undead, Nelecar had nobody but Carduin - a mere boy and a burden he very begrudgingly took. After finding his direction in the form of the Silver City of Haelun'or and seemingly dropping his excessive love of liquor, Nelecar was quick to deposit his nephew among his kin, swiftly washing his hands of the young man. For years Carduin lived as an artisan in the city-state, learning a simple trade as a jeweler, preferring not to meddle in the politics his relation did. And to his credit, he emerged unscathed from Nelecar's rather anti-climactic fall from grace and power among the mali'aheral. But he was not content, and so he traveled. He had been raised to uphold his purity and that was always his most treasured, closely guarded object. He came to be known on the mainland as 'Carduin of Maeyr', a strange, wandering figure black of garb and silver of hair, always in pursuit of a tome or some document. He never defied the customs of the mali'aheral on his journeys, remaining cold and emotionally distant from the very valah he had been raised to detest as beasts. With the migration to Anthos, he seeks to settle down again, this time in the new high elf commune of Lin'evaral. Ambitions for the Future: Chiefly, to serve his race and protect their cultural identity. He believes the most apt way to do this is persecute those who taint his society from within - those who are not mali'thill. Personality: He is humble in most respects. Cold, distant, not politically apt or particularly manipulative. He is mostly generous and very patriotic, seeking to uphold the ancient ways of the mali'aheral regardless of the cost or means. Skills: He is skilled at the use of a bow, however has never worn anything but cloth and has never wielded a blade. He is literate, considering himself somewhat of an amateur book-collector. Appearance (this must include an in-game screenshot of your skin): Any other details you wish to share about your character: None, thank you very much.

zdravstvuite

((Norfolk's official borders have been registered as follows:)) ((If it pleases the author of the map, the sigil of House de Sarkozy has been included in a link below. I know I would greatly value it if the coat-of-arms could be shrunken down and placed on top of Norfolk to the benefit of the whole map. http://flags.nava.org/images/poland/coat_of_arms/przemys_2.jpg Thanks.))

Another poster is added to the boards around the country. The red figures are noticeably elves. ((Posted this just as you said to stop. Apologies, I thought they were amusing. I shall cease and desist now.))

A strange-looking poster is seen hanging in many settlements of Oren. It depicts a rather caricatured and falsified countenance that could barely pass (Perhaps in a low-light condition) as Prince Avern'len. WE MUST STOP HIM

"There is a tool for every task and a task for every tool, Lord Silus. Goldman is an extremely useful tool and a boon to this Empire. You had best keep that in mind." He gives a weary smile, a vestigial trace of warmth remaining. "He is to my liking. Proceed, Lord Grand Coercitor."

Hadrien folds his arms across his chest, nodding in turn as Horen speaks. Occasionally, with a clink, he will adjust his mark of office, the heavy silver chain. When the prince is finished, he begins to speak. "A sound plan. I believe that these methods and measures you have proposed could do a great deal of good to this country...specifically the formation of an Imperial Company and Labour Guild for artisans and craftsmen. The outsourcing of workers could be used to our advantage in controlling which lords receive the patronage of the Privy Council and by extension the Emperor...and by limiting those who do not." He purses his lips for a minute, pausing. "However, Your Imperial Highness, with all due respect I see a flaw in your ideas. As with any good measure that is taken there must be one to oversee the proceedings to ensure they are conducted efficiently, as we have intended. We are still lacking a Lord High Treasurer, and I'm of the firm belief that we should only establish these ideas once a candidate is appointed to office - so we may delegate our affairs and have a capable overseer guiding them. Have you any suggestions for such a role?"

Hadrien gives the prince a bow of his head and Mirtok a sly nod of greeting, still strumming his fingers loosely on the table. Several more minutes pass, amounting up to twenty. If Gilneas did not arrive in that timespan, then it was of Sarkozy's opinion that he would not arrive at all. Standing up, looking directly opposite the table at Horen, he begins to speak. "Gentlemen, I call this council meeting to order. To begin this meeting, I invite His Imperial Highness Prince Horen, standing in for the vacant Lord High Chancellor's profile to speak first and introduce any topic he sees fit." Once again the Lord Privy Seal takes a seat, leaning back in the chair and waiting for the prince to respond.