Proddy

THE PROVINOIS ABDICATION Published by the Provins Household upon the 11th of Tobias' Bounty, 1862 The Provins Household does announce with a heavy heart the abdication of The Right Honorable, Countess Amadie Pruvia. Born upon the 14th of Godfrey’s Triumph 1836 as Amadie Marléne Élisabeth Pruvia, she achieved an astonishing milestone in being one of the initial products of the Rosemoor Bill, becoming the first Viscountess Provins in the year 1844. Amongst her most heralded achievements is pioneering the construction of the Chateau d’Aubepine, which now serves as the central estate of the Pruvia family. Later in her tenure she would raise the peerage of Provins from Viscounty to County in due reward for her unwavering loyalty to their Imperial Majesties during the Aster Revolution. Amadie now resigns from her title and peerage at the young age of 26 to pursue a life of travel abroad. The Provins Household wishes the Countess-Emerita a healthy and bountiful journey, and reminds her that she shall always have a place amongst her family and household should she wish to return. In lieu of her departure from the position of Countess-Emerita, her title and patriarchy of the Pruvia family shall be passed down to her eldest son Fernand Pruvia by virtue of Imperial succession law. With Count Fernand’s minority in mind however, the role of regent is hereby granted to his grandfather the Viscount-Emeritus, Father Philip Pruvia. The duties, rights and responsibilities of the Regent of Provins shall encompass the following; To manage the Provins estate and assets on the behalf of Fernand Pruvia. To manage the Provins finances on behalf of Fernand Pruvia. To serve as patriarch of the Provins household and Pruvia family on behalf of Fernand Pruvia. To attend and speak at the Adriatic Court on behalf of Fernand Pruvia. To fulfill Imperial obligations on behalf of Fernand Pruvia, such as paying fiefdom taxes and answering Imperial summons. Philip Pruvia’s role as Regent shall expire on the 16th of Harren’s Folly 1873, where Count Fernand’s 16th birthday shall be marked and he has matured into adulthood. Signed, TRH, the Countess of Provins, Amadie Pruvia. Father Philip Pruvia.

Arthur of Caermad strokes his beard as he reads over the missive. “Interestin’.” he murmurs, pocketing the bounty flier within his satchel.

My child will type “sneed”

The four year old Fernand Pruvia who had become semi literate within the past year as a result of extensive private tutoring smiles with enthusiasm, wondering if there might one day be a publication on Auvergnat culture and it’s various offshoots.

“But your Dwarven allies started the war.” scoffs a hooded and cloaked William Trissingham in return as he appears from behind a corner. Coughing abruptly, the baseborn turns heel and sprints madly for the Karosgrad gates. He had no interest in being made a prisoner for ‘anti-Haenseni think’ today.

Far removed from the Orenian Empire, in the newly constructed fortress of Dún an Èin, Arthur of Caermad heard tidings of the Duke’s grizzly demise. He felt somewhat gladdened they’d managed to mend their troubles before his death; the Hexer would recall their last conversation and Helton’s promise to better himself with some sorrow now. “Death is the best mercy some men could ever receive. Just a shame you had to go like that.” he murmurs as he heads out to the stables, readying his horse. As dawn would break, the hunter would ride once more for New Providence. There was someone there who needed him now, probably more than ever.

A grizzled and experienced Hexer reflects upon his Path as he sits in meditation by the campfire in the vast and arid Kharasi Oasis. His trail had been no simple journey - filled with tribulation, sacrifice, loss, and horrors he was fated to endure. Yet he knew within his heart, the work he was doing was not only for the good of mankind but the world. He'd found a place he never could in his youth at the side of his comrades, a sense of belonging and purpose that had melded him into a loyal foot soldier in an endless war. An unruly street urchin summoned and thrust into a higher calling. The fire before him crackles and roars with heat as Arthur tilts his head up to stare at the shimmering nights sky, the pale moonlight casting him a long shadow across those golden sands. Silently, he wondered if humanity would remember his deeds long after his eventual death. He contemplated if the world would remember his name.

Within the modest halls of the Chateau d’Aubepine, little Fernand Pruvia would begin to hobble around on his own two feet with more confidence and conviction, now even clearly uttering words such as “Maman” and “Père”. The earliest of teachings for the future Imperial Peer and member of the next generation of Orenian were nigh complete.

The one year old heir apparent to the County of Provins, Fernand Antoine dribbles down his chin whilst he watches servants of the Chateau d'Aubepine gossip about the news of the Imperial Betrothal. Sinking into his highchair, the infant goes back to bashing two knight figurines together.

Fernand Pruvia sneezes in his cot as servants of the Chateau d'Aubepine iron his suit.

Fernand Antoine Pierre Pruvia wails endlessly within his crib. He possessed a fine set of lungs despite the prematurity of his birth, often waking up servants with his cries through sporadic times in the night.

Robert Foltest Helvets smirks from the Void, gladdened to see the resurgence of his countrymen’s identity at last - a mission he pursued in his ill fated life, yet failed tremendously.

A heartbroken and forlorn baseborn drinks himself into a conniption stupor, 'pon this day and for several days to come.

"It is a birthmark." frowns the Bastard of Adria as he read the pilot issue of the recently revived Petite Potins. Pallid fingertips grazing against his wine-stained mark with a sigh as he crumples up the paper and tosses it into a nearby bin. "What a load of rubbish."

The Hexer Arthur of Caermad grinds his whetsone against the edges of his slayersteel claymore Balmur, peering down at the bounty flier beside him.

Galloping full speed along Ostromir's Way, a lone Hexer known to the world as Arthur of Caermad pulls his mare to a halt as he sights the missive pinned upon a road sign. The beastfeller with tenure lofts his foot from the stirrup and hops down, ripping the parchment free and scanning over it. And then folding it up and stuffing it within his satchel, he returns to his saddle from whence he'd came. Riding off like the wind.

i'm pleased i could could give you and ur 3 stiliti friends who never interact with the rest of the world outside of their own rp clique a good laugh buddy

imagine ST removing striga just for striga features and mechanics to be taken and implemented into their "new and improved" vampire lore lol

An unborn Pruvia chews upon a baguette.

The scarred and vagrant looking Hexer Arthur of Caermad broods about the fire of the Hexers encampment, scratching some lice from his beard as he wonders if he might one day make for a pretty Empress. “Edmond!” he hollers out for his mentor, arising to his feet as he begins to saddle his horse. “I’ve got to go to Providence for... somethin’.” @Quantumatics

Beathas wonders if Bogdana will ever stop being weirdly obsessed with her and stalking her everywhere she goes. Yawning, the Baruch scion simply conclucdes that she must live within Bogdana's head... entirely rent free.

Beathas decides to have Bogdana swiftly placed by government authorities into a mental asylum, afraid she might go on one of her schizophrenic tirades again.

William Trissingham seeks to hasten his military enlistment application, afraid he’ll miss out on all the glory.

"Okay." says Louis de Savoie

didn’t read it but nice one