Esterlen

((My EU colleague has fallen. Sarkozy y etait.))

((I would love to have you as a guard. Unfortunately I need to wait for the greater houses to be allocated land before I receive my barony, which means you won't be guarding much more than my home at the moment.))

((I'm well aware. It's an in-joke, Kyle.)) ((I would be more than glad to have you, Evan, but I fear it wouldn't be too characteristic of a member of House de Sarkozy to be a Scotsman. Ugly, mean and racist perhaps - the latter two definitely. If this is character you already have I can't really do anything seeing as adoption is illegal (And rightly so) within the Empire.))

Reserved.

The boyz:

House de Sarkozy Deo Juvante With God’s Help -House Lands- The County of Norfolk The Barony of Aldersberg -Greater Liege House- House Ashford -House Military- The Graafknecht -House Heraldry- A stylized silver eagle upon a crimson shield bearing a smaller black shield on its chest adorned by a golden cross. In most editions of the crest the eagle brandishes a gold scepter. Colours are cardinal red, pale silver, jet black and royal gold. -Physical Traits of De Sarkozy- Members of House de Sarkozy are typically short for humans, fair-skinned, blue or green-eyed and dark of hair and brow. Most of the house have a strong chin and a thick head of hair. Kinsmen usually lean towards intellectual pursuits. They are unfortunately prone to visual impairments and many members of the house have a particularly prominent nose. Most new children are taught the ancestral tongue of Leuvaardic, however it is very rarely used amongst the house. Due to the marriage between Anton de Sarkozy and Cailin MacCray, House de Sarkozy contains some Adunian blood, which accounts for a youthful appearance. -House Family Members Living- Family tree - updated regularly: http://www.familyecho.com/?p=START&c=7tykj53dhk&f=195683236872646813 Hadrien de Sarkozy - Iorwen [House Patriarch] Anne de Sarkozy - Skyyobee [Daughter of Hadrien by his third wife] Octavien de Sarkozy - crazyguy1916 [brother of Hadrien] Arjen de Sarkozy - danroth9 [Nephew of Hadrien] Liam de Sarkozy - Cosmik [Nephew of Hadrien] Bernard de Sarkozy - Le_Bishop [Nephew of Hadrien] Johanna de Sarkozy - [Vacant] -House Family Members Important- Nicolas Sarkozy, founder Hadrien de Sarkozy, patriarch Maurice de Sarkozy, 16th Viceroy of Leuvaarden -Kin- Lorethos Basileus Roy MacCray Maric Varodir (and his bloodline) -Diplomatic Relations- House Varodir - allied, related House Valois - allied, related House Chivay - friendly House Ashford - friendly -History of House de Sarkozy- Until relatively recently, the dynasty of de Sarkozy has been of unremarkable standing and has not accomplished anything of note. It is thought that the family’s progenitor, Nicolas Sarkozy, a burgher of middling wealth, was a Teutonic resident of Konigsberg, Oren’s eastern capital after King Enor Sheffield abdicated in favour of the Hochmeister himself. Upon the colonization of Asulon, the Sarkozys followed Valdemar van Riebeeck to these proposed ‘promised lands’ and would come to help establish the trading port of Leuvaarden on the continent of Gaekrin. Anton de Sarkozy, the current lord’s paternal grandfather, was able to secure a petty place in society with a largely political marriage to Cailin MacCray, the aunt of the former Baron MacCray and great-aunt of Maric Varodir. The now deceased Count Lorethos Basileus’ grandfather Velinthos betrothed his sister Christina to a knight in his service, Ser Francis Canten. Their daughter married Dominic de Sarkozy, and produced three sons - Maurice, Hadrien and Octavien. Hadrien de Sarkozy was sent away from home at the age of seventeen in the beginning of an attempt for Leuvaarden to secure a greater foothold in the Holy Oren Empire. After coming into contact with Velwyn Ashford, Seneschal of the Order of the White Rose, he was given employment as a political advisor, theorist and lawyer. He would grow to gain the favour of many important people within Oren, while earning the enmity of many others as a lapdog. Later Thomas Chivay would create a position within the Order - that of the Conseiller - specifically for Hadrien so he could advise him in all affairs of state. It took many years for Hadrien to curry favour at court until eventually he requested the status of landed nobility from his master. In reward for his loyal service over the years, the Imperial Seal was granted and House de Sarkozy was officially formed. It would take him some time, but with powerful connections he would import the rest of his kin from Leuvaarden - a crumbling region as is. Due to his maternal grandmother, the lord of House de Sarkozy also lays claim to the now defunct titles of House Basileus in his official styles, referring to himself as ‘Archon of House Basileus and heir to the dynasty of the Crescent Moon of the Rhenyar.’ This is attributed to the fact no other trueborn heir of the extinct house remains. -House de Sarkozy’s Opinions- Hadrien himself, the author of the yet to be published politic thesis entitled ‘Three Whom God Should Not Have Created: Elves, Heretics and Flies’ is a controversial figure for obvious reasons. First and foremost a zealous faith in the Creator and the Church of Oren is instilled upon members of the house from a young age, as well as an attitude of Orenic human supremacy. Members are taught to be unwaveringly loyal to the Empire under House Horen. Treason to one’s master is detested. As well as that, pragmatism is very much valued. -OOC- At the moment House de Sarkozy is welcoming new members into the fold. There is no application, nor is there any kind of official test. We’ll merely examine your roleplay if we see it fit. At the moment the bloodlines are extremely flexible. Leave a message on this forum post if you’re interested in playing a member of the house - with the grand power of discussion, I’m certain we could work something out. I’m in the AEST timezone, so I might be relatively hard to find on the server. On the other hand, should any Australians be thinking about creating a character with us, I would strongly encourage it. -Portraits of House de Sarkozy- The following would be found in the holdings of the House de Sarkozy. 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.

Is there a dynmap?

The White Roses and their associates gathered around the stage within the keep, chatting among themselves of trivial matters and important ones. They had been promised a performance to commemorate the travelling to the new world, and they would get one. Hadrien de Sarkozy looked to the crier and gave a nod. A long, drawn out horn sounded throughout the keep for a few seconds before ceasing abruptly. The crier began to shout. "A production funded by the Baron de Sarkozy!" Sarkozy gave a smirk, and gestured for the musicians who had already taken their place on the stage to begin playing. As the violins and the lutes began to play, a figure emerged from behind the stage's curtain. He was bald, with heavy-set eyes and he wore a long red raiment and a papal cap. The man appeared to be grotesquely tall and fat, too, and was flanked on both sides by two scantily-clad human women donning grey paint on their cheeks and face. The scarlet figure descended onto the stage, waving his arms vainly as if signifying the comedy's watchers to bend the knee before him. Instead they gave rowdy applause, and a figure from the far right of the stage began to shout over the sound of the music. "Tha' Lord Inquisitor Baldir Toov!" 'Toov' gave a smile full of arrogance and grandiose as he made his way over to a chest on a pedestal at the center of the stage. With some effort, he flipped it open to reveal it was full of gold coins. Reaching down into the container, he withdrew a handful of minas and avariciously laid them over his red robes, watching them fall to the ground. The production's viewers gave a laugh, and in unison with them the actor gave a deep throaty laugh as the 'dark elven' women caressed his shoulder and threw the money upon him. Turning about-face with a flourish of his robes, the actor looked upon the scene's other prop. A large Lorraine cross protruded from the stage. Rather melodramatically, the figure fell to his knees and fervently traced the sign of the cross on his crimson raiment before leaning forth and kissing the bejeweled cross in a mocking fashion. Standing up, the actor turned around once again to the blare of the violins and other instruments, only to see a middle-aged man sporting a blond beard standing in his way, shaking his head in disapproval at the inquisitor's sinful antics. The man seemed to be stopping the red-robed figure from moving forward. With exaggerated rage, 'Toov' struck the man across the face with the back of his hand and he fell to the ground, clutching at his chest, his heart having evidently stopped. The inquisitor stepped over him only to find a hooded man bearing a long scythe as black as night facing him. The actor raised his hands in protest but before a scream could be heard the man swung the scythe, slitting Toov's throat. The actor grasped at his wound and with an extremely overacted twirl fell to the ground, dead. The seductress dark elves from before had disappeared, only to be replaced with a couple of devils with flaming skin and ebony horns. Grabbing Toov by the elbows, they yanked him upwards and turned him around to the curtain. Upon the curtain was a huge painted tapestry. The music slowly changed to serene and heavenly tones as the inquisitor fell to his knees and clasped his hands together in prayer, his afterlife supposedly secure. The curtain was pulled upwards and the tapestry slowly disappeared - in its place was a maw of inky blackness emitting stifling heat. Tears began to pour out of the actor's eyes, finally coming to the realization that he was damned to the Nether for his sins. The crowd gave nervous laughter and another devil stepped out of the maw, this one larger than the rest. He bore elaborate horns and filed teeth. He opened his mouth with a deep and sinister chuckle and extended his hands as if he was welcoming the inquisitor into his domain. "Welcome to the Nether!" The actor put his hands to his face in despair and gave an ear-piercing scream of terror as the devils began to push him into the maw. The crowd applauded with veritable vigor, cheering and whistling as the production ceased.

You ask too much.

hoh

I built some of that, though! I swear I did!

I don't mean to be a spoil-sport, but you can't seriously say this after letting certain people prebuild immense fortresses on the development server whereas most receive nothing?

Hadrien gives a strong smile, and runs a hand through his own dark hair. "I've been most well indeed, cousin. The Baron de Sarkozy's 'Great Matter' still continues, however, and we are no closer to solving it than we were when we begun, if you know what I mean." He chuckles. "And yes, it has been rather long indeed since we last convened." Sarkozy leans in closer to Maric, the smile still upon his face. "High society has its perks and its disadvantages. I do not blame you, in all honesty, for such loathing. I could not help but notice my liege has invited that liberty monarch Prince Lancel...we should meet more often. And the Grand Marshal's niece! I swear, Maric, women are the root of all evil." Folding his arms across his chest neatly, he looks across the venue for his nephew Liam, who he believed was attending the party. He gives a solemn nod of acknowledgement to Varodir. "I put into play the necessary events to invite His Holiness to this evening's merriment, however he does not seem to be in attendance, regrettably."

Turning his head clockwise, Hadrien spots Lord Maric enter the party and without warning begins to lope towards him, brushing past the crowd, giving a polite apology every time a noble gave him a sour look. He seemed unfortunately oblivious to his nephew's presence. He was closer now and clapped his hands together once, barely audible. A wide smile grew across his face, his ornate raiment causing him to appear quite the jubilant man indeed. Still walking towards Varodir, he begins to speak. "Baron Maric Varodir the Pious! You've no idea how glad I am to see you here, my friend!" He claps him on the shoulder firmly before extending his hand for Maric to shake.

Sarkozy remained solemn and quiet as Artorus made his remarks, his head facing the ground. As the couple made their way out of the palace, he followed them, staying particularly far back in the crowd. He gave a smirk of bewilderment - almost as if he couldn't comprehend Artorus' words - and he downed the rest of his wine quickly, throwing his head back in a fluid motion. Looking at the archway that was the entrance to the palace, he brandished his goblet in a particularly threatening fashion. As the noble couple was descending down the stairs at the entrance, a wealth of emotions overcame Hadrien de Sarkozy. He inhaled deeply and tossed the goblet down the stairs. It landed on one of the higher steps first and a resounding clank was heard within the party. And another, and another. The goblet bounced down the stairs, eventually slowing down to the point of a slow roll, what little residual wine that remained in the goblet having already spilled upon the descent. It came to rest upon the plaza below. The Baron de Sarkozy gave a sneer that was all too appropriate. "A gift for the Duchess." He turned about-face as fast as possible and reentered the party, striding through the crowd briskly until he reached Ser Thomas once again. It had happened all to quickly for him to comprehend.

Sarkozy folded his arms across his chest, his narrowed eyes looking upon Artorus and his wife with an almost incomprehensible level of disdain. Leave it the Adunians to arrive uninvited and unwanted, he thought to himself. Taking a sufficiently ornate goblet off the long table with a sense of callous disinterest, the Baron Hadrien de Sarkozy turned his wandering gaze to the party's guests.The Valois, the Hightowers...and, of course the prince's bastard and his Adunian 'wife' had arrived uninvited. Giving a scowl, he hurried off to the nearest guard he could find, taking an occasional sip out of his goblet. The Valois wine was fine to taste. Rich and red, but no Leuvaarden Noir. Hadrien almost felt as if he had lowered his standards drinking wine produced in Auvergne, but he quickly got over the feeling. His steps short and brisk, he eventually made his way to an unmistakable sight - the ivory-haired half-elf, Adeon Fablenight. The Baron gave a nod of acknowledgement and leaned in, placing a hand on Adeon's left pauldron and lowering his voice to a whisper. "Artorus Hightower and his wife Isabella Elendil are not on the guest list and thus not permitted to be here. Get Tresery and make your way to them, would you?"

Hadrien de Sarkozy slowly removes his hand from Bran's shoulder and inhales deeply, maintaining his smirk. "If it isn't the Chivay charmer himself! A pleasure as always, of course. I do so adore that fur of your garb." He folds his arms across his chest pensively. He shrugs in a gesture of apparent unknowing, a twinkle in his eye that might have belied his true emotions. "My tailor is very accomplished, though. I ought to pay him more. As for the wine, they say it's made from special grapes - well, that's what I'm told at least. It's far too hard to get it imported these days." He looks down to his empty left hand, noticeably lacking a goblet, before glancing to Thomas frantically, his face losing its apparent joy and his voice lowered to a softer tone. "Is she attending? Do you know? Is the Grand Justice?"

Hadrien looks up to the gatehouse expectantly, furrowing his brow upon realizing it was unmanned. Taking off his plumed hat and handing it to a servant on his right, he strides purposefully through the archway and under the portcullis, his stance oozing both pomp and grandeur. Sarkozy gave nods and smiles to the White Rose guards before making his way into the bustling crowd of the nobility, giving people he had met before sidelong glances of approval. Upon searching around the crowds for the particular figure he was looking for - to no avail - he saw the grand mongol Bran Volsung walking around with a disapproving look plastered upon his fair face. Evidently, the norseman was not enjoying the festivities. Hadrien reached out, grasping Bran by the shoulder, his frilled sleeve as regal as ever. The dark-haired man gives a jubilant smile. "Not enjoying the festivities, my friend Bran?"

Every now and again the speeding carriage hit a bump in the road or a pothole, the horses pulling it cantering along the roads of Elysium, the coachman flicking the reins with excessive fervor. Inside the exorbitantly decorated sable coach, the Baron de Sarkozy narrowed his eyes in suspicion as he so commonly did. In actual fact, it was not suspicion as much as it was skepticism. In his right hand he held a long letter written in clear and distinct handwriting. Scowling, he discarded the missive, pushing it to the back of his pile of envelopes until he found his invitation to the Chivay's festivity. Eagerly looking out the small window in the door, he saw that he had almost reached his destination. The famed Chivay Party Palace was in sight - and Sarkozy had heard that Thomas had the place renovated. Tapping his foot impatiently until the carriage ground to a halt, he looked out the window yet again only to see a valet bearing the gold and black of the Grand Marshal's house rapidly approaching. He sat down quickly, eager to maintain some semblance of a cool countenance. The valet opened the door to the carriage with a click, and Hadrien gave him a quick nod of acknowledgement before stepping out. The servant, who Hadrien just barely remembered being named Anastasios or something of the like, began to speak. "The Baron Hadrien of House de Sarkozy, Baron of Aldersberg, Lord of House de Sarkozy, Conseiller of the Order of the White Rose, Archon of House Basileus and heir to the dynasty of the White Eagle and the Crescent Moon of the Rhenyar!" Tipping his violet plumed hat and putting on his best attempt at a smile, Hadrien began to ascend the steps to the 'palace' as it was called, arriving at the gatehouse.

The Baron de Sarkozy's left arm begins to shake uncontrollably as he is told of the wedding he was not invited to. He clenches his teeth and begins to grind them. "That vermillion-haired sodomite has the gall to host a wedding without me!"

10/10 would rp with

I'm more worried that there seems to be a state named Boiendl.

You probably should have made his vassals revolt. That would have rustled my jimmies.