AndrewTech

✵ A Game of Hassocks ✵ A Traditional Orenian Hassock, c. 1534 HIH Catherine Anastasia, Princess Imperial and Duchess of Westmarch, has designed a new game in order to provide for a new Orenian pastime! This activity, known as ‘A Game of Hassocks’, is meant to be a simple and engaging exercise that anyone of any age or walk of life can partake in. Inspired by games played by the ancient heartlanders, it requires keen reflexes and an understanding of musical rhythms to play. The rules of the game shall include the following: A ring of hassocks, or traditional cushioned seats, shall be arranged in a full circle at the start of the game. About 8-12 are recommended, though as few as 6 may be utilized at the start ideally. Those intending to partake shall number exactly one more than the available number of hassocks at any given time. In the background, a musician or group of musicians shall play an upbeat tune, to which those partaking shall walk and, should they so wish, dance. This may be a lone bard, a pianist, a violinist, a flutist, a guitarist, or a full band or orchestra depending on the occasion. The bard or conductor shall stop the music at sudden intervals of their choosing. When this happens, all must locate a hassock and sit upon it. The individual who fails to procure a seat shall be eliminated from the game. One seat shall then be removed, and the procession shall start once again. Whomever becomes the last one standing by the game’s end, wins! In order to test out this new game, HIH The Duchess of Westmarch shall be hosting an event to showcase it to the Imperial Courts! A special prize in the form of 50 minas and a commemorative trophy shall be offered to the victor of this occasion, forever to be remembered as the first victor of ‘A Game of Hassocks’. We look forward to seeing you then! Signed, HIH Catherine Anastasia Princess Imperial, Duchess of Westmarch OOC:

TO NEW FRONTIERS An Event to Commemorate the 100th Anniversary of the NGS The Great Crest of the Northern Geographical Society Est. 1762 ✵ A Century of Adventure! ✵ For over a century, the Northern Geographical Society has served the continent by safeguarding and showcasing the collective heritage of the descendant races. Founded in 1762, last year officially marked the 100th anniversary of our organization’s formation. With the 100th anniversary of the opening of our first museum quickly approaching, we intend to mark the occasion through the opening of a new rotating exhibit! We shall be showcasing a display on the History of the NGS and it’s unique institutions and adventures, to share our story with the public as we take a place in history of our own. Our mission on this century is one which we hope to share with others, and which we hope will be treasured by those to come as future generations carry on the torch. The first appearance of this exhibit shall transpire in Karosgrad, commemorating the 100th anniversary of the opening of our first museum in New Reza. That following year, an identical exhibit shall open in Providence, commemorating the 100th anniversary of our second museum in Helena. The exhibit shall also be available in our Elysium museum once it formally opens as well. We look forward to welcoming you into our halls, to explore the story of our journey into New Frontiers! Signed, Otto Wittenbach President of the Northern Geographical Society Dilvyn Deveral Vice President of the Northern Geographical Society Dame Celestine Herbert HKML Founder of the Northern Geographical Society OOC:

Handing her infant off to a servant, the Duchess of Westmarch would pen a response to her closest childhood friend.

✵ The Wind in the Willows ✵ By HIH Catherine of Furnestock Princess Imperial c. 1860 I will never forget the day of our meeting, A joyful event at Season’s Greeting! Her dress lined with flowers and velvet my cloak, Were heralds of feelings which have since then awoke. Though she is not of my same station, My love for her is beyond ration. Like a clock my heart beats, with such elation, At the mere offering of her salutation. Wind in the Willows, Swaying in the breeze. Within her eyes, her soul is shining. Though it will be difficult to reap, A promise has been made Which forever I shall keep. Fair maiden, fair maiden, how your smile doth shine, Like the vestments of saints, of aenguls divine! There is nothing that I would not do for thee, As you, in turn, would have done unto me. In the light of a setting sun, The thread of prophecy has been undone. I love you my dear, second to none, But is this a struggle that can be won? Wind in the Willows, In the winter freeze. Down rosy cheeks, her tears are falling. Though it will be difficult to reap, A promise has been made Which I shall strive to keep. Duty and honor are rallying cries, A promise of glory for which men die. Meadows and flowers in green pastures grow, Tainted by a river through which time flows. Life is a journey, short and sweet, A treasure to be cherished in its brevity. Choices that are made in a passion’s heat, Cruelly weave the thread of destiny. Wind in the Willows, Short and sweet. She attends to her infant’s crying. That which is sewn must now be reaped, A promise has been broken, And forever shall I weep.

Bidding Format Discord: AndrewTech#1007 MC Name: AndrewTech RP Name: Red Gold Robe Bid(s): 150

HIH Catherine of Furnestock writes a letter, sending for the "Love and Hate" tricorne. As an afterthought, she also sends an inquiry inquiring about the Tocco.

Asulon. It was a great place! Crummy architecture by today's standards but the roleplay was really fun as I recall. 10/10 would live as a hobo in Hanrahan's clinic and mooch off of Adunians in Ildon once again.

✵ A Young Artist’s Auction, Part III ✵ 1859 After a lengthy eight years of artistic hiatus, HIH Catherine of Furnestock has elected once again to sell a series of her works to the general public! The theme of this auction will be 'Scenes from the South', depicting a wide array of curiosities from the southern most reaches of Almaris. Inspired by her recent travels during the writing of her latest poem, “Ballad of the Hexer”, the Princess Imperial hopes that these exotic scenes will decorate the halls of homes far and wide. In the same tradition as her previous auctions, 20% of the proceeds will be donated to the Imperial Treasury to help fund aesthetic improvements throughout the Holy Orenian Empire. CATHERINE’S PORTFOLIO: (NOTE: All bids must be cast in person at the auction, or via a proxy. Example pieces are watermarked to prevent unauthorized replication. Replication for commercial use is impermissible without the artist’s approval.) PAINTING #1: “The Starlit Spire” PAINTING #2: “The Lakeside” PAINTING #3: “A Ship out of Water” PAINTING #4: “Old Bones” PAINTING #5: “The Oasis” OOC DETAILS:

HIH Catherine of Furnestock, the Princess Imperial, had been overcome with grief at the revelation of her good friend's death. She remembered when she had first met Helton Helvets. It was at a Knoxoween party at Cathalon. As an eight year old girl, she had found the teenager that was her best friend's brother to be quite intimidating. But they would eventually grow to become fast friends through the years. As she cried in her bedroom, she thought of the layers of Helton's personality at the beginning of the war. They were tragic, she thought to herself. All he wanted to do was to crunch numbers and attend parties. He was a sweet, loving man beneath the armor that he wore. Both mental, and physical. His mental state had rapidly deteriorated over the last year or so. The layers were no longer the same. They had changed, warped entirely... The last time she had seen him, she had seen NOTHING. All she saw was a shell of what he was, and that had horrified her to her very core. It was a terrible sight to behold. She herself had felt unsafe around him, especially after that day at the bank. But whatever had happened to affect him so, she forgave him. And she hoped that he knew that in the Seven Skies. Dressed in but her nightgown, Catherine would manage to roll out of her bed, kneeling before the foot of it as she clasped her hands together in prayer. She prays for his soul, for Laurentina, and for the children that he had left behind.

✵ Ballad of the Hexer ✵ By HIH Catherine of Furnestock Princess Imperial c. 1859 In the glow of a full moon’s light, A widowed woman, overcome by fright, Unable to take to from her cottage flight, Fears for her children’s lives. The fields are quiet, torn by war, Voices ceased forevermore. Ghouls and necrophages roam the earth, A cradle for horror’s birth. But a coin here and a coin there, Will do much to end this utter despair. For in a land of unanswered prayers, Shines the slayersteel of a Hexer. Hailing far from Aeldin’s lands, Against the unnatural they take a stand. With stoic features and eyes of gold, They prepare for battles yet untold. Lesser men grow cowardly and meek At the gnashing of a monster’s teeth. Through swinging steel he earns his keeping, To prevent many a mother’s weeping. With the promise of coin’s pay, A Hexer will dispatch all beasts away. “To live to fight another day!” Is a motto that Hexers say and say. Fear is that which slaughters the mind, The greatest enemy of mankind. The Hexer endures the greatest strain To shun away unfathomable pain. His child wallows in the mud, Though she is not his flesh and blood. Bruised and battered, worn and seared, She remains determined to persevere. Down by the lakeside, with eyes like gold, Lamenting stories that will go untold, Is it true that fortune favors the bold? He frets not of the future he is to behold. Some are wary of the Marked, Questioning why it is that they embark. But regardless of their personal ends, They are humanity’s friends.

"That's a misprint, Quentin!" Eliza groans as she suddenly appears. Looking over the pamphlet, she visibly facepalms. "See? Look, it's right on this one! Damnable print shop..." Moments later, she would produce a new pamphlet, which is appropriately signed. Suffice it to say, after much arguing with Quentin in his abysmally sober state, she has her atronach secretary recall the handful of pamphlets that had gotten this wrong and has them replaced...

THE FORGOTTEN VOICE An Open Letter of Lament 10th of Godfrey’s Triumph, 1855 These are the times that try men’s souls. Though I am normally soft spoken and have few words, recent events have necessitated that I pen this public lament over the recent occupation of Lower Petra. My lament may fall on deaf ears, but I must take it upon myself to once again speak for the forgotten. Long ago, I emigrated from my home country of Haense to Oren in search of a better life. There were few prospects for an Adunian woman of common blood within the country in which I was raised at the time, and thus I made the decision to move to the Orenian countryside to raise my orphaned nephews. I wanted to offer them more for their future, as well as to raise them in a safe environment. The move to the house at Witten’s End initially broke my heart. To come to a foreign land, alien from all that I had known, was most uncomfortable. Yet I soon began to acclimate to my new surroundings and made many friends amongst my new neighbors. I came to find that these were good and just people. Virtuous in nature and kind of heart, I found that they had been forgotten by their representatives in the House of Commons. I stood for a seat in the Diet to represent them, and served as their voice and champion for nearly a decade before a summons to the position of Foreign Secretary and my eventual subsequent retirement. But despite my time in the city, I never forgot the people of the countryside who came to accept me. Now, the house at Witten’s End in which I raised five children by my lonesome lies empty. Many others lie empty as well, owned both by nobles and by men of common stock. Families have been driven from their lands. The taverns and stalls of honest businessmen lie deserted. Crops have been razed. Women and children who never wanted any part in this war have been displaced, the result of the unbridled cruelty shown by the occupying forces of the Tripartite Alliance. It is these everyday people who have suffered at the hands of a nakedly political agenda. Forced to fall back, there is little that the Imperial State Army can do to defend the innocent civilians trapped in Lower Petrus. The armies of the Fidei Defensor have stood by idly as devout canonists have died at the hands of the armies of the Grand King. More appalling still, some have assisted in perpetrating these very atrocities. Clearly, human compassion has deserted these lands. This war has been waged by some in the name of religion, yet those who claim to act in God’s name have seemingly forsaken this little piece of Canondom. The excommunication of their Imperial Majesties aside, let us remember that the people of the Holy Orenian Empire were explicitly NOT excommunicated. In fact, this was explicitly lifted from the common Orenian populace. The charitable endeavors and good work of the Church are needed more than ever. Having experienced a religious reawakening recently myself, I believe heavily in its institutional importance and the important role it plays in keeping the canonist world together. But where has the Church been in all of this? Not a word has been spoken by the Pontiff, tasked with being the shepherd of all humanity, against the crimes committed against his flock by armed vagrants and pagan marauders. Few would doubt the unwavering faith of the Vuillers, who have fanatically served the Church of the Canon for well over a century. Yet their lands have been seized and defiled, without a word of objection from a single member of the institution to which generations of their family have pledged their lives. Nobody has dared to mention the recent loss of Church lands to pagan ownership. For instance, the Abbey of St. Harald Vuiller at the crossroads between Redenford and Providence now lies empty, its doors barred as it awaits either destruction or conversion. Matters of a secular nature have superseded this curious situation, ones which should not matter at all to the Church of the Canon. Thus, not one word has been said as these canonist lands have been seized. Not. One. Word. The forgotten of Lower Petrus yearn for a voice, and that voice shall be heard. But the words that need to be said should never have to be uttered aloud. Regardless, I shall now pen those words. Canonists are canonists. Human blood is human blood. There is no compromise when it comes to this principle. Faith and race do not know nationality in the eyes of the Lord. The supposed sins of no man can change this reality. Little charity has been shown toward those who have lost their homes. Little compassion has been extended to the innocent bystanders who have committed no crime other than to have been born an Orenian. Indeed, no quarter has been shown whatsoever to these human beings. If we forget this reality, we will become as tribalized as in humanity’s very first days. If canonists are seen as only Haeseni, Orenians, or Savoyards alone, then we open up the door to other swaths of the faithful being attacked. A small canonist country by the name of Du Loc now faces a threat from Clan Ireheart as a result of the precedent that has been set in Lower Petrus. After all, if land owned by the largest canonist country can be taken by pagans without objection, what is to safeguard these smaller realms from aggressors? Delivered by Exalted Owyn, Spirit 6:13-14 says: “So I find that you seek power in wrath, but there is no power like unto God’s. For he is the Most Merciful, the Most Powerful, and even the thousand petty wraths of spirits do not overcome his mercy.” Yet, I see no mercy in Lower Petra. I see only hatred and bloodlust of the utmost degree, and it brings tears to my eyes. I sought peace between the warring parties in this conflict for many years, to prevent this from happening to any of the three sides involved. For I share a special connection with Haense and its people, and have many dwed friends whom I cherish. But I had never imagined the utter darkness that would characterize this war. This herald of a forgotten voice has but two simple requests: I beseech the Church of the Canon to denounce the seizure of Church lands in Lower Petrus, and that it use these properties to engage in charitable endeavors to do God’s work in the region and assist those displaced. I also humbly request that the Church of the Canon publicly condemn wanton acts of violence against all canonists in good standing within these occupied lands. Regardless of the outcome, I thank the authorities who have read this open letter for taking the time to do so. I can only hope that I have helped to raise awareness in regards to the ongoing situation in Lower Petrus, and that further aid might be rendered post haste. Signed, Elizabeth Brae-Wittenbach Former Right-Bank Representative

A bookish 17-year old looks to her equally bookish best friend, clasping her hands together in glee as they read the missive upon a notice board in Providence. "This looks great, Laury!" She turns to face her friend, taking her by the shoulders and giving her an excited shake. "Oh, how wonderful this will be to visit! We'll have to be sure to bring plenty of coins." @Fie

Discord Tag: AndrewTech#1007 IGN: Dixie_Serenade Skin Name: Vineyard Florals Bid: 250

“YOU TELL THEM QUENTIN!” Eliza shrieks, shaking a fist in the general direction of Urguan in support of her husband. @Shorsand

The Northern Geographical Society The Great Crest of the Northern Geographical Society Est. 1762 ✵ The NGS is Now Recruiting! ✵ As our organization continues to expand and grow, we have found there to be a need to bring a new generation of the brightest minds and the most adventurous of spirits into our ranks. Thus, the Northern Geographical Society is presently seeking scholars, adventurers, and writers of the utmost caliber to join us! DEPARTMENTS OF THE NGS When you join the NGS, you will be asked to sign up for at least one or more of our three primary departments. This helps to ensure the adequate placement of an individual based on their interests within our Society: We look forward to meeting you in person at the Metier Fair of 1854, as members of the Society’s Circle shall be present to answer all questions regarding involvement with the NGS! SIGNED, LHORIS Curator of the Imperial Museum ASH ADALAIDE Captain of the NGS Exploration Corps DAME ELIZABETH BRAE-WITTENBACH KHE Circle Member of the NGS

Elizabeth Wittenbach continues to cast her enchantments, rally her atronachs, and batten down the hatches at Witten's End, shaking a fist as she curses the armies on the horizon! "Playing your bagpipes at me again, eh?!" The feisty Adunian red head bellows out from behind the hedge grove at the armies beyond, cupping her hands together. "You buggers speak of false chivalry and honor, citing religion as a nakedly false pretense to invasion, acting so high and mighty, but I don't see any spangled banners in YOUR LANDS!" Strapping on her gauntlets, the very grumpy and retired knightly mage would add, "Regardless of your hypocrisy, you'll rue the day you swept into the Right Back! Go back to your OWN COUNTRIES you bastards!"

✵ The Charge of the Cavalier ✵ By HIH Catherine of Furnestock Princess Imperial c. 1852 As I look to the wife who sleeps by my side, I remember my vow: For her, to provide. With the children all nestled, well snug in their beds, I plant a kiss on each of their foreheads As again, I don the red. Our commandant’s face, clad with a patch, Bears a look of pride as he hands off our dispatch. With a snap of our boots and salute of our hands, Rides forth our brotherly band! The mission ahead for which we prepare, Is a task to which we cannot compare. With the words of priests and the songs of nuns, To a battle, yet to be won. An officer cries “Forward, the mounted brigade!” But we all know that this is no parade. With our homes to our right and the enemy to our left, We ride forth into the cleft. As my heart is filled with undying despair, I think of how my comrades will fare. In the glowing embrace of the rising sun, Riding into a battle, yet to be won. I thought of a funeral held just last week, And the words of its priest, ever so meek. “Bring not your sorrow, your pain nor your plight, But embrace the eternal respite.” The sound of a bugle thunders through the air, And that of a bagpipe, in wartime fanfare. For in the glowing embrace of the rising sun, Is a battle, yet to be won. Though peace is that for which I yearn, Our foe will have a lot to learn! With pagans and sellswords in the morning light, I devote myself to the fight. As I offer Saint Emma a final prayer, I think of the loved ones for which I care. In the glowing embrace of the rising sun, Lies a battle that will be won. ✵Dedicated to Samuel Gendik and the Fallen of the ISA✵

A young girl's eyes twinkle as she watches her father's ship sail back into Henry's Wharf. Smiling as she clasps her hands together in delight, she fully intends to pester him about the crew's exploits at a later date!

A Call to Adventure The Great Crest of the Northern Geographical Society Est. 1762 ✵ The NGS is Now Recruiting! ✵ As our organization continues to expand and grow, we have found there to be a need to bring a new generation of the brightest minds and the most adventurous of spirits into our ranks. Thus, the Northern Geographical Society is pleased to announce that with the ongoing renovation of our museums in Karosgrad and New Providence, we are now seeking scholars, adventurers, and writers of the utmost caliber to join us! Of course, decades have passed since we have issued a call to adventure. As such, it may be necessary to recount our exploits to those who may be interested in heeding this call… A Circle Meeting Chaired by NGS Founder Celestine Herbert in Arcas, c. 1770 We as an organization have existed for well over 75 years, and take great pride in the impeccable quality, unbiased objectivity, and integrity of our writings. The NGS believes that the world is a magnificent canvas, a place full of beauty and wonder. We therefore seek to safeguard and document the collective history and heritage of the people of Almaris. A Ship Bound for the Deepways… Our motto, “To New Frontiers” has sent us to places where nobody else has ever gone before. From the graveyard continent of Athera to the deepest depths of the Nether, and from the vast swamps of the Attenlund to the expansive tunnels of the Deepways, we have endeavored to explore our world to the fullest extent. Leaving our Mark on the Nether, c. 1775 The fogs of ignorance are only dispelled through the diffusion of knowledge, and our museums serve as sanctuaries for the preservation of such. By joining the NGS, you shall be entering a quest to spread the light of knowledge unto the greater world. As an independent organization, we adhere to a policy of absolute political neutrality in our pursuit of the truth. An NGS Recruitment Station in the Attenlund Furthermore, we offer not only the chance to participate in the preservation of history but also the opportunity to find one’s self a wholesome group of like minded individuals. We do not discriminate based on race, sex, religion, nationality, or creed, for we believe in brotherhood and mutual understanding between the intelligent races of this continent. We ask only that you have a good heart and a strong commitment to our organization’s guiding principles. When you join our band of assorted misfits, you join a family for life! DEPARTMENTS OF THE NGS When you join the NGS, you will be asked to sign up for at least one or more of our three primary departments. This helps to ensure the adequate placement of an individual based on their interests within our Society: ADDITIONAL JOB POSTINGS In addition to joining our rank and file, we also have several high ranking positions available to be filled pending a rigorous interview process: Curator: The Imperial Museum - A curator is the chief representative of the NGS in the country to which they are assigned. They handle the creation of exhibits, the hosting of events, and community outreach on behalf of the Society’s Circle to the nation in which they have been given the position. We require such an individual to service our museum in the Holy Orenian Empire. If interested, please pen President Otto Wittenbach or Vice President Dilvyn Deveral for an interview. [[DM EtowTheSaltyCat#0312 or Greygree#6276]] Curator: The Museum of Hanseti-Ruska - A curator is the chief representative of the NGS in the country to which they are assigned. They handle the creation of exhibits, the hosting of events, and community outreach on behalf of the Society’s Circle to the nation in which they have been given the position. We require such an individual to service our museum in the Kingdom of Hanseti-Ruska. If interested, please pen President Otto Wittenbach or Vice President Dilvyn Deveral for an interview. [[DM EtowTheSaltyCat#0312 or Greygree#6276]] Archivists & Librarians - Our Chief Librarian requires assistance in managing our vast archives throughout our global locations. These men and women are granted the privilege of cataloging our vast collection of knowledge, known to be one of the largest in all of humanity. Those interested in assisting may contact Chief Archivist Ferek Frostbeard for more information. [[DM Doctor_Jones#0955]] We thank you for taking the time to read this missive. Further inquiries about joining the NGS may be directed toward President Otto Wittenbach [[DM EtowTheSaltyCat#0312]] or Vice President Dilvyn Deveral [[Greygree#6276]]! SIGNED, OTTO WITTENBACH President of the NGS DILVYN DEVERAL Vice President of the NGS DESHE Personal Relations Director DAME CELESTINE HERBERT HKML Founder of the NGS

✵ A Young Artist’s Auction II ✵ 1851 Since the groundbreaking success of her work nearly five years ago, HIH Catherine Anastasia of Furnestock has since endeavored to hone her skills as an artist. The events which have transpired since have provided her with the inspiration for a new batch of artwork, which shall be auctioned off at the Imperial Tuvmas Festival of Providence in a single Saint’s Day. Several of these works have also been pre-framed, ready and able to be hung in homes and parlors throughout the Empire. Others come without, but can be made for such purposes. Furthermore, 100% of proceeds from this special Tuvmastime auction will be donated by the Princess Imperial to the Imperial Treasury to make the soldiers of Oren more comfortable during the holiday season! CATHERINE’S PORTFOLIO: (NOTE: All bids must be cast in person at the auction, or via a proxy. Example pieces are watermarked to prevent unauthorized replication. Replication for commercial use is impermissible without the artist’s approval.) OOC DETAILS:

Somewhere, an aging Adunian pensioner finishing potting a rose.

As the diplomatic mission to the north traveled southward on its return journey, Elizabeth Brae-Wittenbach would mull the happenings of the day over in her mind. The sorceress had not expected to be greeted in this manner upon their arrival in Karosgrad. It was a very uncharacteristic action for the Haeseni to undertake. Particularly by Sigismund, whom she had believed to be a man of honor. Did the Haeseni blame them for what had transpired between Henrietta and her father? If so, she could only wonder what they thought of King Henrik's brutal mistreatment of his own sister not a decade and a half before. The King's own aunt. Not to mention other family members of his whom had suffered similar fates before his assent to the throne. They had been beaten, abused, and had clearly suffered through far worse than Henrietta. Privately, Eliza was glad that Henrietta had found happiness, and wished that she and Marus would lead a happy life together. The girl was like her own daughter, and she wished her all the best. Alas, this was opportunism at its finest. Tales of chivalry meant naught in the real world, something she hoped that the young King would come to see given the acclimation of experience. All this she kept to herself, however. As they crossed into the lands of the Grenzi, she recalled something that her mother, a Haeseni hauchkossar, had once told her many years before: "The annals of history must be told and heard by all sides involved, lest revisionists seek to rewrite them."

Quietly, a woman whom had done much to raise the Lady Henrietta reminisced about the passing of this day's events. Or what she had heard of them, rather. She stirred a cup of strawberry tea as she thought about the ongoing quandary as she thought about the rumors she had heart of Cathalon. She recalled how Henrietta had initially begged the King not to get involved in this manner, how his own brother had even done so. Alas, honor was a fickle thing, a concept she understood all too well. But need the exchange truly be handled in this way? And for what, to humiliate the Duke of Cathalon? He was an imperfect man in an imperfect world. There were some Haeseni lords she could think of off the top of her head who had emulated him in the past. Having newly turned to religion, she would move into her chambers and simply kneel before her bed to pray. "Lord God, do watch over Henrietta as she sleeps tonight. Watch over the Helvets lads and lasses, as they suffer through this most terrible time for their family. But most of all, please watch over the future, and let it be a promising one that we may behold beyond this turbulence."