Basil of Sabris

(( Thanks BlackKnightJGB for the new skin! ))

The Crows Regiment Banners of House carrion The Crow’s Regiment are the bannermen of House Carrion. They serve the Crow’s of Oren and act as their vanguards in this time on chaos. Ranks Lord Patriarch Prince Paul Carrion Commander Jakob Captain (Quartermaster, Drillmaster) Veteran Ranker Recruit Outfit (SKIN) Application form: Name: Age: Race: Recruiter: Reason for joining (( THIS WILL BE UPDATED AND FLESHED OUT VERY SOON ))

Roy Carrion has shared his ill-intentions to abandon his family and not share in this crowsmoot. His vote shall not be cast, nor will it be accounted for. Therefor, the running is between the two Crows: Paul Ostrovic Carrion and Aleksandr Carrion

The dawn was young when Paul Carrion take a seat at his table, unfolding a scroll. The scroll read of the illness of our beloved Emperor and the passing of the Cap. The Prince was puzzled, what had the passing of the cap meant? He scoured old Raevir textbooks for days, weeks even before discovering two articles. Upon completion of these articles, he summons two of his trusted scribes. "Eja, the Crows fly again young ones. Majov, write a letter to my kin. Lokov blow the ivory horn." Thus, the first scribe did his tasks and upon the next mourn all of Oren would hear the trumpeting bellow of the Ivory Horn. The second scribe finished his at the same moment, sending out scrolls of the following: Aleksander Carrion Viktor Ostrovic Carrion Daniel I Boris Carrion Godfriek Ostrovic Carrion Ostromir II Ostrovic Carrion Roy Carrion The letters would read: (You would only recieve this letter if you are listed above)

Within the city of Petrus, a vast throng of townsfolk head to the Imperial Palace, admiring its grandeur and majesty. Though the commoners grieved the illness that befell their Emperor Tobias I, they were stimulated by the prospect of a lord regent being named. Afterall, such perilous, dark times required a competent liege, for every Orenian, noble and peasant alike, sought to bask once more in the light of prosperity and stability. Within the palace, stood the esteemed assembly of electors, claimants, and those associated with such classes. Among them stood the expansive family of Ashford, comprised of the branches de Bar and Savoie as well as the Carrions, who outnumbered any family. At their side, with the unmistakable Crow's plume, stood one that many presumed to be dead, yet despite the effects of age, which bore their mark, his posture remained erect and eyes burned with fiery determination. Soon, emerging from his quarters, appeared Joachim de Sarkoz, the Lord Chancellor. As those attending were ushered into silence, he spoke, "The Council of Electors have been unanimous in their selection of a Lord Regent!" Pausing, the Lord Chancellor, unravels a scroll with deft fingers and a keen eye, stating, "Boris Carrion III is hereby named Lord Regent! May he accomplish much for our country until the Emperor's recovery!" The congregation impart their support with a round of audible applause as they part to clear a path for Boris. Taking his seat upon the throne, the Lord Regent smiles and calls for rejoicement as various scribes record the day of the event as the 13th of Malin's Welcome.

The Regency With Emperor Tuvya Sigismundovic Carrion stricken ill, the Imperial Diet has opted to name a Regent to lead his Emperor's armies. In the event that the Diet agrees that Emperor Tuvya is deemed no longer fit to rule, the Diet shall congress once again and vote for the seat of Emperor. In the event Emperor Tuvya's illness subsides beforehand, he shall retake his position as sovereign of the Holy Oren Empire. The following men have the right to vote for the regency, holding the title of Prince-Elector or the High Pontificate. Aleksandr Tuvyoic Carrion, Duke of Karovia Olivier de Savoie, Duke of Aldersburg In the event of a tie, Daniel I, High Pontiff of the Canon Church

The following notices are spared to every landed lord of the realm. (https://www.lordofthecraft.net/topic/118746-imperial-diet-house-of-magnates/) Attention! It is hence required, in accordance with the establishment of the House of Magnates, that each landed lord of the Imperial realm submit an appointee to fill the position or positions of magnate henceforth to the interim Prime Minister and Lord Chancellor, Joachim var Sarkoz. The procedures and establishment of the house, as well as its powers, are enumerated in the attached document. Each vote represents one magnate or seat, and thus a magnate may be appointed for each vote apportioned. Failure to designate an appointee or appointees as magnate will result in the seat remaining vacant, hence preventing that lord's interests from being represented in the House of Magnates and by extension preventing that lord from having an influence over the legislature of the realm. Signed, Joachim var Sarkoz, Prime Minister and Lord Chancellor of the Holy Empire of Oren ((Send your appointees to Basil of Sabris on the forums))

Simon of Khavaz marks the third tally for Tuvya Carrion, marking Tuvya's majority of three-fifths. A smile curled under his marble ivory mask as the Diet came to a close. "Tuvya has been named princeps inter pares in the Holy Orenian Empire; elected among the First Estate as its sovereign. By the powers determined in the Edict of Aanen, Tuvya Sigismundovic Carrion is now named King of Oren, the head of state, granted full Imperial authority as designated by his electors. Given the circumstance where the country is lacking of both a High Pontiff and Emperor, King Tuvya must wait for the appointment of a new High Pontiff for his imperial coronation. In imperial and clerical documentation, his majesty Tuvya shall assume the regnal name "Tobias I" "Long Live King Tuvya and Long Live Oren!"

As the Edict of Aanen makes its way through courier to the various lords of the realm, the palace enters a brief frenzy in preparation for their esteemed guests; for the Imperial Diet was to be held, and the electors were to decide the fate of the Empire, and in particular, its sovereign. Missives are sent to the College of Electors, requesting their presence to fulfill their duty in determining the next Sovereign, as Basil of Sabris and Simon of Khavaz, religious pioneers, moderated the procession, to insure the law of the fledgling Empire was upheld. The following princes are to attend; Tuvya of House Carrion (Chumpchump) Helton of House Chivay (Skiddles) Olivier of House de Savoie (InternalFacis) Richard of House Bar/de Savoie (Altiak) Until a High Pontiff is elected, no invitation has been sent to the clergy. ____ As the electors enter, it is the gaunt, lean Simon of Khazaz who greets them. Bearing the same disguise used in his preaching and writings, black robes and an ivory mask noted by its long wicked beak, akin to a plague doctor, he motions to the procession. "Welcome to the First Diet of our Holy Oren Empire; the electors have three saint's days, with potential for extension, to debate upon whom shall be their choice for Emperor of our state. Electors may change votes during this period. The Diet will continue until a majority is met among the electors and an Emperor is named." Simon then proceeds to mark up upon a parchment the current vote of the electors. [Will change as time goes on] Tuvya of House Carrion - Tuvya Helton of House Chivay - Tuvya Olivier of House de Savoie - Tuvya Richard of House de Savoie - Tuvya The High Pontiff - Undecided "To reiterate the restrictions pushed forward by our last Emperor; 1) The Emperor-candidate must be of pure human descent. 2) The Emperor-candidate must be of the electoral's household, in other words, bearing the surname de Savoie, Chivay, or Carrion. 3) The Emperor-candidate must have royal or imperial claim; he must hold matrilinear or patrilinear descent from a royal or imperial house of the current Holy Oren Empire or one of its predecessor states. In order to modify these restrictions or institute new ones, three out of five electors must agree on the proposed revision. May the best man win, and may our state hold." _______________________________ OOC: Please don't post if you are not either a candidate proposed or a prince elector. So if you are not Chumpchump, Skiddles, internalfacis, altiak or any of their proposed candidates, you wouldn't be here rply and it wouldn't make sense. Thanks.

-A missive is sent to the lords of the realm- With the disappearance of newly coronated Boris Carrion, Oren must find itself a new Emperor. It is said that in the Emperor's desk was left the terms of the first succession, addressed as the Edict of Aanen. Edict of Aanen The Imperial Regency has held the Imperial Diet; they call to the Prince-Electors to make haste and appoint a new Emperor from their households! [Cruz has a family emergency and will not be able to invest time into minecraft fantasy roleplay so naturally Oren will need a new ruler]

The red-white and black-gold banners of the House of Chivay had been torn down by the occupying forces of Petrus, lying tattered in the gutters of the metropolis to be replaced with the strung up crimson and black of the Carrion dynasty. Flags depicting crows fluttered in the wind like great waves and the bells of the city chimed broadly, summoning the populace to the Saint Sigismund Cathedral. The ground was trampled underfoot as the droves from peasant to burgher packed into the spacious temple, awaiting the coronation to proceed. There was an air of serenity inside of the cathedral. The masses, a sea of people from all reaches of the Empire, sat in relative silence within the pews with only the occasional quiet murmur breaching the calm. In the front rows were seated the upper nobility - the Count of Aldersberg bedecked in dour ermine garb alongside his one-eyed brother, Edmond, and his wife - the four sons of General Sola, each wearing white, untarnished military dress - and, of course, the boy lord of Carrion, Roy Rikovich. Nearby, the Grand Master Richard de Bar of the Knights Lorraine sat as well, accompanied by his personal steward, a young boy. They all looked onward as the the soon-to-be-crowned Boris Carrion ascended the stairs, to the altar. The lord was dressed in his best attire, a set of ceremonial armor with a black-and-crimson tabard displaying his bloodline’s sigil: the crow of House Carrion. His expression stoic, he approached the newly invested Metropolitan of the Crownlands, Basil of Sabris, at the dias. The murmurs fell quiet, for the coronation had officially begun. Basil cleared his throat after a brief delay, and began to speak the opening prayer. “O Lord our God, King of kings and Lord of lords, who through the prophet Horen didst choose Thy servants Owyn, Godfrey and Sigismund and didst anoint them to be kings over Thy people of Oren; hear now the supplication of us though unworthy, and look forth from Thy holy dwelling place and vouchsafe to anoint with the oil of gladness Thy faithful servant Boris, whom Thou hast been pleased to establish as king over Thy holy people which Thou hast made Thine own by the precious blood of Thine Only-begotten Son.” The metropolitan paused for a moment, his richly adorned robes glimmering in the sunlight which breached the Cathedral’s long windows. “Clothe him with power from on high; set on his head a crown of precious stones; bestow on him length of days, set in his right hand a scepter of salvation; establish him upon the throne of righteousness; defend him with the panoply of thy Holy Presence; strengthen his arm; subject to him all the barbarous nations; sow in his heart the fear of Thee and feeling for his subjects; preserve him in the blameless faith; make him manifest as the sure guardian of the doctrines of thy Holy Church; that he may judge Thy people in righteousness and Thy poor in judgment, and save the sons of those in want and may be an heir of Thy heavenly kingdom.“ The entire crowd spoke at once, delivering the expected response. “For Thine is the might and Thine is the kingdom and the power, of the Father, and of the Exalted, now and ever, and unto the ages of ages. Amen.” Basil took a step down from the polished altar, hoisting the crown of gold in both hands, in a very delicate manner. As Boris knelt upon a single knee, the crown was laid softly on his head. The crown was as if a beautifully unique, ornate jewel itself. The most obvious, striking feature was a double-barred cross sitting atop at a slant. Then, came the beautifully etched designs. Firstly, and at the front were two symmetrically facing crows. Stretching around the back were designs of the saints, including Siegmund and Owyn, the exalted. Basil spoke once more, lowering the Crown of the Exalted onto Boris’ head. “Most God-fearing, absolute, and mighty Lord, Emperor of all of Oren, this visible and tangible adornment of thy head is an eloquent symbol that thou, as the head of the whole Heartlander and Highlander people, art invisibly crowned by the King of Kings, God himself, with a most ample blessing, seeing that He bestows upon thee entire authority over His people.” Basil returned to the altar, fetching the scepter which bore the orb marking Boris’ authority. Gripping it between his thumb and index finger, he held it out to Boris, who in turn gripped it with a nod, and bowed his head, eyes closed as the bottom tip of the scepter was placed on the ground for some support. “God-crowned, God-given, God-adorned, most pious autocrat and great Sovereign, Holy Oren Emperor, receive the sceptre and the orb, which are the visible signs of the autocratic power given thee from the Most High over thy people, that thou mayest rule them and order for them the welfare they desire.” The crowd in the Saint Sigismund Cathedral rose in raucous applause, the organist beginning to play the tune of the anthem of the Holy Oren Empire, preserved since the era of the exalted Godfrey. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=re2HbUi9jh4 ((Forum moderators, please rename ‘The Imperium Tertius’ subforum to ‘The Holy Oren Empire’ + pin this thread. Cheers to Danroth9, Esterlen, Merrymoogle and Cracker for writing this.))

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k8mjRxkMBkE The Tears of Herendul Penned by Ludovico of Ardvale, 1459. Oh, oh ho, oh ho, oh ho, The silver snowflake shines at night, Their blue-grey banners a terrible sight, Field and fountain, moor and mountain, The sinful snowflakes run from the fight, ‘We don’t much like our Carrion king,’ ‘We ought to slay him, chaos we’ll bring’, ‘We fear no rebuke, I’ll be archduke,’ ‘We’ll endure by kissing John’s ring,’ ‘O, we won’t call it treason, we’ll call it just,’ ‘Even though we’ve lost the world’s trust,’ Power-hungry, power-greedy, ‘Our secret swords will never rust,’ But now the sparrow’s taken the crown, And John of Darfey has been cast down, What says the snowflake, ready to break, ‘We’re loyal to no priest in a gown,’ ‘O, we won’t call it treason, we’ll call it just,’ ‘Even though we’ve lost the world’s trust,’ Power-hungry, power-greedy, ‘Our secret swords will never rust,’ Soon the snowflake will melt for good, Their plotting nature understood, Where will they go, what will they do? Flee back to Old John, if they could. ‘We’re sorry Father, for we have sinned,’ ‘Our fealty to you has been thinned,’ Alleluia, alleluia, The crow will leave them skinned, O, we’ll call it treason, call it crime, For House Winter, the bells will chime, Death to Harold, death to Edward, Away, begone with snowflake’s slime.