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BenevolentManacles

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    John
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  1. John follows the doctor’s orders, having heard this tale second-hand from a chambermaid.
  2. The Curonian Reformation Plan Sun’s Smile, 1743 <---------------------------------> <---------------------------------> <---------------------------------> <---------------------------------> On the Kingdom of Curon and its desire, and absolute need to undergo the processes of reconstruction and reformation. With horrible mismanagement of the government by the previous regent, resulting in a loss of basic trust, the Crown of Curon henceforth affirms itself as a new body, with new leadership, under the purview of new governing principles and ideals. <---------------------------------> <---------------------------------> SECTION I GOVERNMENT & STRUCTURE <---------------------------------> <---------------------------------> PART I The Cabinet Through the development of the Cyrillian Cabinet, the restructuring of the flailing and previously disrepaired Curonian council and government shall break from the chains of malleable ethical principles and morals. This new ruling class of Curon commits, in full, to be in keeping with its oaths of fealty, and the defense of its people, fellows vassals, and sovereign Empire. By designing a Cabinet engineered to be governed from the top down, the Crown hopes to ensure tangible upward mobility for the people of Curonia, and therefore increased productivity. No longer shall seats holding influence be held by those who never show their face and have allegiances faltering from the direct goals of the Curonian Crown. A government does not function without hierarchy and a level of bureaucracy necessary to ascertain true and tangible advancement of the goals of the Crown. PART II The Census As outlined in the Senate’s proposals regarding the return of Curon’s title to a suitable candidate, something of absolute and utmost important for Curonian solidarity and success, the Kingdom must achieve specific thresholds in the Imperial census. As such, the Crown will initiate a full fledged campaign with this goal in mind. This task is assigned to the Minister of the Exterior and, more specifically, the Secretaries of Imperial Affairs and Intelligence. The Crown henceforth sets the expectation that this goal is met within the next four years. PART III Recruitment Focus In this time of restructure, the Kingdom needs, more than ever, as many capable people to execute its directives as possible. As such, the Kingdom will require all of its councillors to utilize all of their resources to the best of their ability in adding additional manpower to all directives of this plan. <---------------------------------> <---------------------------------> SECTION II THE CAPITAL CITY <---------------------------------> <---------------------------------> PART I Renovation The City of Avalain shall undergo heavy renovations in order to put an end to the scars that the Void Tear left in our fair city. This task is assigned to the Minister of the Interior, and more specifically, the Secretary of the Homeland and any other ministers or undersecretaries necessary to be appointed to the task. PART II City Government The City of Avalain will reestablish a functioning city government, monitored and upkept by the Ministry of the Interior, and in keeping with the cultural identity of Avalain and the surrounding areas. This government will serve to provide the necessary tools to orchestrate a functioning city. This task is assigned to the Minister of the Interior, and more specifically, the Secretaries of the Homeland and Treasury. The Crown henceforth sets the expectation that this goal is met within the next two years. <---------------------------------> <---------------------------------> SECTION III SECURITY & DEFENSE <---------------------------------> <---------------------------------> PART I The Military The Crown shall charge the Secretary of War with the establishment of a functioning military force, capable of everything from basic city policing to the defense of the Kingdom and tall forms of military assistance to the Emperor’s directions. The Crown henceforth sets the expectation that this goal is met within the next three years. PART II Integration The Crown intends to integrate the standing armed forces of Curon into the Imperial State Army. Once the Curonian armed forces are fully fledged and capable of governing itself as a military body that will not be burdensome to the ISA. Alternatively, should the ISA provide to the Curonian military the means to accomplish its directives in the defense of the City of Avalain and the Curonian Crownlands. IN NOMINE DEI Her Highness, Ester Rose Devereaux Princess and Governess General of the Curon His Lordship, Ser John d’Arkent Baron of Selm, First Minister of the Kingdom of Curon
  3. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OFgHy-ia8RM Addressed to His Holiness, I have read your declaration, and know you to mean well. It is good to see a compassionate shepherd, hoping to bring peace to the realms of Man. Yet you make a grave error. You assume that Curon and Suffonia are true, god-fearing folk who abide by the laws of GOD and man. Yet they have strayed from this path. You have failed to condemn and excommunicate those who call themselves Canonist, yet whom have aligned themselves with the pagans who now invade Canonist land. You have failed to condemn the pagan invasion against the human realms. You have stood idly by while our country is rife with the iniquity wrought by heathens killing canonists. Suffonia and Curon have shown they care nothing for the GOD’s children and faith. The murder of priests in Suffonia is a prime example, yet even worse is their abuse of the chaos brought by the pagans. They have used this invasion of GOD’s land to break away from the yoke of the Imperium which shelters all of GOD’s people, and thusly they have betrayed the values of Canonism altogether. How can a man fear GOD if he allows pagans to assist him in breaking his oaths of fealty, made before GOD and man? Now, you ask us to meet with you in Rubern, a country that has assisted in this pagan invasion and participated in the heathenous ritual of murdering Canonist peoples. I hope that you are simply ill informed and do not truly mean that your first act as High Pontiff since this conflict started is to assemble Canonist men with pagan sympathizers in a pagan land and ask that we have a peace which has not been earned. If you wish to have a meeting with those who proclaim themselves Canonist still, we shall have it in a Ves, a true canonist city, and the site of the Holy See for three decades. If you are not ill informed, and this is truly your intention and the Church has abandoned the only true Canonist nations, then it is you whom is in need of a shepherd. We men of the Crownlands and Haense will continue to pray to GOD for deliverance and seek the word of the Lord through our own interpretations. We are stalwart and stronger in our faith than any people the world, and even if the High Pontiff truly intends what I described above, we will continue to pursue GOD’s guidance through our own prayers and community. With all love for GOD and His Ministry, Ser John d’Arkent Vice Chancellor, Baron of Selm
  4. In response to the recent address from the Barony of Warwick and the Kingdom of Curon, To the Barony of Warwick; Since I became relevant in Imperial governance you have groveled for titles and to be recognized, asking for thresholds you could meet in order to become a Kingdom, or gain Senate seats, or what-have-you. Ultimately you fail to understand that greatness comes from great deeds, and you are throwing a hissy fit over not being handed greatness or recognition on a platter. Do you think the men of Morsgrad care about you, or can make you great? They wish only to use you to further their aim, and you have fallen for their trap. Say what you will for the Empire, but when Morsgrad rallied to attack Haense, we rallied to its defense, and stood stalwart in front of our vassal, ready to die defending it. Remember that when this war is over, if you choose to assist the men of Morsgrad in armed combat, GOD will smite you for your heathenry, and you will have destroyed any reason any man in the world would have to trust you. Know also that even if you seek to proclaim neutrality, I will personally march over there and trim you a head short. Simply because you made a voluntary choice to swear fealty does not mean you can voluntarily absolve yourself of it. What a hideous, idiotic, honorless destruction of the values of GOD and man. To the Regent of Curon; Angelo, here I have something more delicate; at least in some ways. You and your wife shared drinks with myself and my wife, and so I take a lighter tone with you, yet with the same substance. The worst thing that you have done is betray King Pierce. You have dishonored him beyond belief, the man who, when pushed to the brink, chose to make the proper decision and remain a vassal of the Empire. A man who many times I spoke with in privy on matters paramount to the security of the state, and who I knew had the best interests of all of humanity at heart. You broke his oath of fealty for him, a contract that no man has the right to violate. You are a sniveling fool, and a coward. I challenge you to a duel to the death, for the honor of my sickly friend King Pierce of Curon, whom you have insulted with your snot-stained declaration. God save you both. His Excellency, Sir John d’Arkent Vice Chancellor, Baron of Selm
  5. The Vice-Chancellor raises his hand, “I prefer the red with the purple crown, and thus that is my vote.”
  6. The aging Knight trails behind his younger fellows, the weight of his armor and his aching body from drink the previous night keeping him from his top condition. He had done it to himself, of course, as he always did, but it was embarrassing after such a long career of war and battle to be found at the end of the line. As the army comes to the front of the gates, he catches the main body of the army, grouping alongside them with shield in hand. His heavy breath, reeking of liquor, fills his helm noxiously. He pulls his visor up for a better view of the enemy as the Orenian soldiers group together for the assault, scouts dispatched by the General Elliot to survey the walls for weaknesses. Perhaps as soon as the scouts were dispatched, without word and warning, the arrows began flying, known only to John by the thud of one striking his shield off center. The Knight let a grin spread across his face, his vision clearing and his armor growing lighter as the familiar rush of battle returned to him. He was never a distinguished soldier in battle, but he knew how to fight with a group, and he had done so since he was a young boy nearly every year of his life. It was not long until the Emperor himself and his guard clashed against the enemy’s sally from the main gate, striking down the Orc who appeared to be the de facto leader of the ragtag bandits. The Emperor’s laughter resounded through the battlefield, and the men echo’d him, the humor infecting the entire ranks in the middle of pitched battle. Soon the entire formation was in uproarious laughter. John let himself laugh along, consumed by the charisma. It was not long before the scouts had returned, having noted a potential entrance to the fort that had been overlooked. John heard the General Elliot call the formation to move, and they circled the fort till the scout brought them to the tree which branches would allow the force entrance to the fort. The Knight sheathed his sword, clambering upon the tree with the assistance from his younger comrades. He gazed across the gap from the tree to the wall for a moment, before he felt the push of a man behind him. He had already hesitated too long, and he was forced to leap. With a heavy thud, his boots landed on the roof of one of the camp’s structures, safe from the short fall. The rest of the brigade followed quickly, bunching together behind cover. John closed his eyes, drawing his longsword again. He knew this moment a hundred times over, had lived it countless times. He adjusted his grip on his blade, and didn’t wait long. General called the charge, and John let out a blood curdling battlecry. As the force turned the corner, the enemy’s line buckled. A cascade of convicted Orenians, empowered by the presence of the Emperor himself, crashed against the line. On the left flank, John slammed his shield against a dwarven barbarian’s. They pushed against each other for a moment, but John was no stranger to fighting dwarves, and their low center of gravity. He relaxed his shield arm, stepping to the side to allow the dwarf’s pressure to propel the dwarf forward. The dwarf lost his balance, and while he scrambled to regain himself, John’s reeled his blade back, thrusting it at the dwarf’s upper spine. The weapon sank into the short creature with a grotesque gush of blood, splattering John’s armor. John ripped the weapon from the dwarf, which slumped over. John turned to see the enemy continue to break, and saw an elf dashing off toward the corner of the camp, attempting to outflank the Orenian left. He grinned at the elf, from behind his helm, and took a few steps forward, raising his shield and slamming his pommel on the front a few times with an aggressive stance. This got the elf’s attention, who backed itself into the corner, with nowhere to maneuver in the oncoming onslaught. John kept his eyes carefully on the elf as it raised its shield, preparing for the fight. John raised his sword arm into the sky, as if to strike the elf’s shield. The elf raised its shield, blocking its own line of sight. No doubt this was a novice. John roared at the elf, raising his right foot and giving the elf’s shield a powerful kick square in the center. The elf’s body slammed against the wall of the encampment, disorienting him. The elf dropped its sword, and quickly lunged its hand to grab the sword it had lost control of. Too late. John slammed his boot on the elf’s wrist, hearing it cry out in pain as its bones cracked under his weight. John threw his shield off his left arm, gripping the elf’s visor as it knelt, disoriented in agony. He ripped the elf’s helm off, tossing it aside, and swung his sword with great force for the elf’s neck. The elf made no sound as its head was cleaved from its body, rolling down the hill toward the cage that held the captives John and the others had come to free. John turned instantly to view the state of the rest of the battle, to see a quiet field with countless dead; and not one of them Orenian. The bandits had been butchered completely. The aging Knight knelt, wiping off his bloodied sword on the cloak of the dead elf, and sheathed his weapon. He returned to the company as they freed the captives, one of them an elven women, throat slit and bound. John grit his teeth with rage at the cowardice, to murder a woman captive. He unbound the dead elf, slashing its bindings with his dagger, and threw his own cloak over the corpse. He closed his eyes for a moment, letting out a deep breath as the end of the battle brought his age back to his body. The rush of battle seemed to be the only thing that kept him competent on the field. Perhaps this is how he would spend the next years of his life. Perhaps this made him feel more alive than any drink could. One thing was certain. These bandits were no match for the Imperium. To John, and the men of Oren, their deaths were a laughable waste of time.
  7. A missive is distributed about the city of Helena. With regard to Andrew Owyn d’Arkent; In my first year with my dear wife, Vespira, I wept, for no matter how hard we tried, we could not find her fertile. With every herbal remedy and blessing we could find, we sought to remedy this to no avail. Thus, I took it upon myself; I would hide Vespira away to feign her pregnancy, and adopt a babe as my firstborn, to ensure my legacy carried on at least in name. Of course, we have found since then that her womb is as fertile as can be, activated no doubt by our increased passion for each other. Yet it has become apparent my supposed firstborn son is naught but a vagabond who seeks to disparage my name, and has no sense of loyalty. Thus, I admit to the world my grave error, and beg GOD’s forgiveness and grace. Andrew Owyn was never named Andrew Owyn, but was instead born Roderick Pine, the child of a peasant family who could not afford to feed him. I name him disinherited by virtue of his lack of blood relation. GOD save the Emperor. His Excellency, Ser John d’Arkent, Baron of Selm
  8. “Only a coward kills himself,” John remarks to his wife between sips of ale.
  9. The Vice Chancellor sighs, slinking out the door to attend to matters diplomatic. Or to drink more.
  10. Reeking of liquor, but too far for anyone to smell, John speaks. “Honorable Senator May, let us not recuse a man for lacking the funds to provide for the infrastructure and military status of vassals whom have thus far been unreceptive to the idea of paying any form of taxation to the institution it requests such assistance from. Surely, if you wish to extend the generosity of the imperial treasury, you yourself have a plan to increase it’s size to suit such a large burden?” The Vice Chancellor offers a whimsical grin, as though to dismiss the idea altogether, “Or perhaps the Mister de Leumont can provide us a method by which we may ascertain this growth of imperial funding and it’s distribution?”
  11. The Vice Chancellor listens as the attendees speak, nodding a few times at each contribution. With no more words in the chamber, he bangs his gavel as a sign that he is calling a division. “Well, I think that’s long enough,” he states pensively. “We’ll now have a division on the confirmation of Veikko Harjalainen, Senator from Helena and Solicitor-General-designate, as Solicitor-General, entitled to sit upon the Council of State and with all of the privileges therein. I would also like to briefly welcome the Duke of Helena’s appointment for the seat formerly held by our emperor, Senator Desmond Sola.” After he calls the tally for a vote, a clerk tallies the ayes and the nos for confirmation. When the senators have finished casting their final votes, the same secretary brings John a roll of parchment which he squints in reading. In the process, he knocks a drop of the contents of his goblet onto the register, revealing that it is not water but whisky. “Ahem. Armas, Helvets, Rutledge, Sola, Harjalainen and Bowers in favour, May and Corbish against. The motion carries.” The Vice Chancellor bangs his gavel once more, “Honorable senators, you may know that my work as Vice Chancellor, regrettably for you all, extends beyond this chamber. With the accession of a new emperor to the throne, this work has increased ten-fold. Within the Edict of Establishment is retained a provision to elect a president pro tempore, or temporary president, from among the senators to serve as the presiding officer of this body in these very cases. As I cannot devote my full attention to my duties as presiding officer, I would like to nominate Frederick Armas, Senator from Kaedrin, for this role. To move promptly, I will now call a division.” The aging drunkard takes a sip of the liquor in his cup, gesturing for the clerk to first arrange a division for votes and then to get him some more whisky. When the senators have finished, John de Balain reads the names in favour of the proposal. “Order, order in the chamber. Armas, Helvets, Rutledge, May, Corbish, Sola, Harjalainen and Bowers in favour. The motion carries unanimously. Frederick Armas, Senator from Kaedrin, so long as he remains a senator, shall now serve as president pro tempore of the Senate until such time as he resigns, loses the confidence of the chamber, or the office of the Vice Chancellor returns to preside over it more actively.” With those forbearing words, the Vice Chancellor calls up the Senator from Kaedrin to the presiding officer’s desk to exchange the gavel and resume the session as president pro tempore.
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