tcs_tonsils_

Sebastien Ashford de Savoie daps up his boy, a grin spread stark across his visage. “Excellent! Our rocky starts have really rounded out for us, no? Congratulations. I shall, of course, be in attendance.”

"As a Page I looked up to you, as a Squire I mentored under you, as a Knight I served along side you, and now I shall be directed by you." The Savoyard Knight did smile a large Sun's smile. "I look forward to all of the strength you shall bring the knights, both on an off the battlefield."

"Dravi, Ser Walton." Sebastien frowned softly, moving to grab a couple of bottles of flash powder. "You shall be missed."

Oh my! I can’t believe I didn’t see this. I had so much fun roleplaying with you, and while it was only a brief period, I had a blast. Reminiscing about the past was fantastic. I will really miss you, thank you for everything.

"Congratulations, Lord Colborn. A new Viscount and an Aulic member now, on the up and up, I would say." The Savoyard smirked. @Twandhi

The Road Less Traveled Iulius has thought about his life in the past. He had ascertained many joys and made many mistakes... oh, so many mistakes. He remembered his long, pained talks with his sick wife, their frustration and sadness over their failures plainly on the table. That is often what he dwelled on during the last few years, not the good life he had lived, or the things he had accomplished, or the people he had met, but the things he never got to do, or the things that had not turned out well. He stared at his desk, memories of a flurry of flashes in his mind. Then his cane hit the floor before he could even comprehend he was falling. His legs, their strength ripped away by the tribulations of sickness and age, simply could not hold him any longer. The Vernhart fell with a crash, his body slamming into the dusty floorboards. Yet it felt slow, almost as he was time slowed to a snail's pace. “Do not worry, mother, I will be fine.” The young boy said, arms outstretched beside him so he could steady himself utop the bridge railing. He was pretty active, even for an adolescent. He was never shy away from wandering the mountaintops or climbing the top of the tallest trees. So, the prospect of going out on an adventure, past the hills and valleys he paused at every time, made him quiver with anticipation. Iulius Erik Vernhart had stayed upon the rampart, peering out over the sheer drop. The waterfall roared underneath, and the white river gushed, pouring out over the edge and dropping to the rocks below. He stood there for a long time, glancing out over the expanse. He knew he would journey out there sometime. “Don’t worry, I’ll be fine, mother.” The teen called out, a pack strapped onto the side of his horse. He patted the brown-dotted stead before pivoting in the mud. “I will be back, I promise.” He smiled brightly, stepping forward so that he might embrace his parents before crouching down to look eye-to-eye with his little brother. The Vernhart ruffled his hair and shared some words of encouragement. Standing back up, there was still a look of regret on his face, though it was a facade. He had no intent on coming home until he had explored the world, and there was so much to find and learn. "You don't look like you are from around here." A voice resounded from behind the seated man. Iulius placed a thumb into his sketchbook before twisting so that he might get a look at the one who called out to him. He was indeed an interesting person. His skin had been tanned due to the sun of the desert, yet his hair and clothes were very similar, identical to those the Elves would wear. There Sigismund stood, the nation's King, though Iulius had no clue of knowing that then. He simply asked, almost like a passing comment. "Erm naet, from all 'round. Been travell'n nere 'ere and 'here." He responded, placing the journal to the side, the man now paying full attention. Perhaps he should have realized it was someone important by the golden crown that sat upon his head. "So, where are you from? You look like an elf, but you speak like a dwarf.” Sigismund asked, his arms folded over each other, studying this odd man. The yet-to-be-identified King glanced the boy up and down. "Erm from de west, travel'n all 'round - lived wit de dwed an de elves," Iulius answered, moving to stand where this well-dressed man was. Only at this moment did he realize it was someone of importance, though perhaps not the King himself. "Well, I promise to sit down and hear it sometime, but I do have to go for now." The King said with a smile before dipping his head and moving away from the strange firr. Little did he know that a brief, simple conversation would begin a long friendship. [!] An exquisite drawing of a hand with a quill. “Why does frost and bitterness define so many hearts?” The Vernhart tapped the quill upon his legs, which dangled off the side of the brick walls by the palace. He scribbled a bit more, jotting down whatever came to mind, whatever felt like it flowed… then, as he read back over it, he dashed through that which didn't make sense.“No, it seems that there is a deviousness behind these personal attacks, one which is set forth with a certain precision. These words, a well-executed knifestroke directed at the heart of order and reason.” He continued, thinking out loud at this point. “A divisive letter, written to chaos with blood ink. It is the perfect mix between fact and fantasy, truth and deceit. This is the stench of deep-seeded hatred, envy, and scorn.” Iulius smirked, placing a firm dot at the end of the sentence as he glanced around. “That is quite nice… I must admit… the imagery is piercing.” In reality, despite his ability to think well on that brisk summer morning, it would take him almost a year to write A Juxtaposition of Power and Envy. It was his first work, one he was proud of and one that took well to the people of Haense. He was a newcomer, yet his challenge of taking on the Hearsay had not gone unnoticed… and even more so, it had been appreciated. Iulius Vernhart - Tutor, Philosopher, Scholar. The Vernhart finished the paper, the first of many missives he would release over his years. Discomfort was all Iulius could feel as he moved up the steps, stopping just short of the well-dressed man. He had been here once before, but it was empty- Madeline had ensured that. This was different, vastly different. What am I doing? This is stupid, this is stupid, I am going to die. It was all he could think as he shifted, his hands wishing to fall behind him so they might interlock, but his arm stayed locked with her’s. “Hello, your Lordship.” He spoke slowly and clearly, attempting to hide the new Marian he had spoken to for around 10 years. Joseph d’Azor stood there, the Arch-Chancellor of Oren, the right hand of the Emperor. Iulius had, by plea of Madeline and by request of her uncle, gone to meet him… not in a neutral place as his friend and mentor, Johann Ludovar has encouraged him to do, but within the halls of Vuillermoz. Upon the Firr speaking, the d’Azor grimaced. “You may refer to me as, Your Excellency” Fear overtook the man; he was already in a place he did not know and meeting a man that, at the snap of his figure, could have him executed. However, he did not quiver as he choked out, “Uh- oh, apologies, v-your excellency.” Iulius dipped his head once more before glancing at Madeline. -=+=-=+=-=+=--=+=-=+=-=+=--=+=-=+=-=+=--=+=-=+=-=+=- The meeting went just as well as one might think… with the Lord d’Azor ventually finding out, not due to misstep, but to a gamble… to a reference to a longtime pen-pal in Haense he had had, Eirik Baruch. Johann is going to kill me. The foolish man thought, taking a step back as Joseph drew his cane sword, looking as if to strike the man that stood infront of her. “On GODAN, Madeline, a Haenser?” He erupted angrily. There was a fierce, passionate rage in his eyes. One of the enemies, those he had killed and almost been killed by, stood in the living room of Vuillermoz Terror held a grip upon him. Surely those around him could hear his heart thump. If this man doesn’t kill me first. Iulius Vernhart then thought, hopping back as Madeline stepped between the two. He watched as the two moved off to the corner, where he was sure they would have a quiet screaming match. He stood there… for what felt like an eternity before his betrothed took his hand and quietly exited the building with him, back to Haense, home, and safety. I never learn, do I? Iulius Vernhart thought to himself, his arms once more interlocked with his fiancee. He ascended those steps he had not returned to since meeting with the Arch-Chancellor. At the top of the stairs, this time, however, stood a couple, their own arms interlocked. "I am insane, aren't I?" He whispered to the girl who stood a foot shorter than him. "To meet my parents during the war? Perhaps." Madeline patted his arm with a cheeky smirk resting upon her face. She seemed nervous, though she had a right to be. Her face was slightly pale, her figure taut. They both knew the consequences of coming, the possibility that her parents may deny them their love- or worse. The Solicitor-General of Oren and Surgeon General of Oren stood watching the pair from above. There was apparent neutrality in their gaze, which would throw any hope out the window. They lead the group to the roof before sitting down. It was not a happy conversation, one filled with hearty laughter, one filled with joy as they carefully planned the terms of the wedding. No, it was a tense, uneasy discussion. "Vy breaks my heart, Madeline. I will always love vy, my sweetheart, but vy do niet have my support." Sir Rev Vuiller said with a huff. He had yet to turn and face them after he stood up. He simply kept to the wall, looking out over the vastness of the Vuillermoz. "I am sorry I am not the daughter you want me to be," Madeline sniffled out, her words almost choking in her throat. She wanted nothing more than to cry. Inhaling deeply, she tensed, his hand quickly finding its way to take Iulius'. "Mama, Papa... I love you both dearly. I thank you for everything you've done for me as I've grown up, but this is the only thing I've ever asked for... and I know I will never be allowed to have it. It will always be a "later or conditional. I hope you know that without your approval, we will still be wed within the year." The two of them left in quite a hurry… [!] Iulius Vernhart and Madeline d’Azor-Vuiller before their wedding. 415. E.S. "Iulius Erik Vernhart, will you have this woman to be thy wedded wife, to live together according to God’s law in the holy union of Matrimony? Will you love her, comfort her, honor and keep her, in sickness and in health? And forsaking all others, keep thee only unto her, so long as ye both shall live?” Father Adrian asked, his hands held before them. “I do.” Iulius Vernhart spoke in a clear voice; his accent was barely audible in the back of his tone. He did his best to mimic her Orenian accent, a smirk placed upon his lips as he did. Shortly afterward, he was directed to place the ring upon her finger, which he happily did. “Madeline Rose d’Azor-Vuiller, will you have this man to be thy wedded husband, to live together according to God’s law in the holy union of Matrimony? Will you love him, comfort him, honor and keep him, in sickness and in health? And forsaking all others, keep thee only unto him, so long as ye both shall live?” Father Adrian asked, his hands still held before them. Ea do. Madeline d'Azor-Vuiller held the ring carefully as she signed. A soft smile grew upon that blonde bride's lips as she carefully tried to mimic his Haeseni accent, "Ea do." She then placed the ring on his finger. Following the kiss, they turned to the single, clapping witness, Emma Karenina, the person they both, trusted more than any in the Kingdom. The four in that room were the only people to witness that secret union. As promised, the two were married… not even 2 hours after meeting with her parents. No invitation had been sent to her parents or to any relatives. Nobody would know, not until they wanted them to. Myself and Lady Diana are coming to Haense- please be waiting for us by the gate to let us in. We need to speak, but I am trusting that you are able to assure our safety. We shall meet you in a couple hours. Iulius Vernhart blinked rapidly, his hands beginning to quiver at the letter. It was nearing midnight, and the pair had just been married less than 4 hours before… surely they had not found out already, had they? And they were coming here, to Haense… The Arch-Chancellor and the General Surgeon of Oren. And they showed, as they said they would. As Iulius said he would, he quietly, secretly escorted them to his home. “It is clear Madeline cannot be stopped in her intention, she has that Othaman stubbornness in her blood… unfortunately.” The d’Azor began, his gaze trailing from his sister and onto the Vernhart. “And while we would have appreciated the terms being met, I can’t say I would have done entirely different if it were me in the situation.” Iulius Vernhart froze. How did they know alright? Certainly the Keonas would not have said anything… and the priest… no, he was sworn on the book. He forced a smile, one that was bright as not to arouse any suspicion if they didn’t know. “Your words are very comforting.” Dame Diana Vuiller glanced at Joseph d’Azor before resetting her gaze back upon the man across the room. After a short talk of pleasantries, she said “We respect your decision. I have come to terms with accepting the marriage, yes.” She nodded her head. “However, I believe accepting and supporting are two different words, it will take me a few months for my support.” Joseph d’Azor interjected then. “However, there is a condition that must be met.” These words made Iulius pause. They have already asked that I take on their name… they have requested that I move to Vuillermoz. Which one will it be? Or do they want me to ask the Emperor? Be married within the confines of the Providence Basilica? “When she walks down the aisle, she will walk down the aisle as Madeline Rose d’Azor-Vuiller.” He said then, breaking any expectation that the Vernhart had. They don’t know. He thought, his forced smile becoming a genuine one. There was so much more he imagined in his head as he lay upon the dust-ridden wood panels of his home. His tutoring sessions with the prince, now King, all of his trials, the birth of his children, the gradual acceptance of his parents-in-law. It had taken years, perhaps, but they had formed a bond- one which he treasured. He thanked Godan for his foundation... But he also thought about his sit down with Keonas-Mother Emma. "You have lived a good Life." She had said, and while he disagreed… These memories reminded him of so much. Flashes of images filtered in and out of his mind. They were clear as day before becoming fuzzy and eventually fading out of existence. As he lay on the floor, he tried to remember those visions he just saw, the memories of the past, but nothing was. Everything that came left a chasm behind, an empty void. And yet he felt that peace. It would be all over soon. He opened his mouth to speak, but he had naught the strength to say anything. It is finally my time to go. He thought in an almost feeling thought. It was difficult to hold anything now; even his breaths became shallow. Iulius Erik Vernhart shut his eyes. He stood at the precipice, looking over all that was left. There was the void, the endless expanse that he did not understand. He allowed himself to fall, sinking down into the shadows.

Sebastien Ashford de Savoie smiled the Sun's Smile. "We have done quite well, I am proud of the family that Lord Adrian has pulled me into."

"Lucien I haven’t died yet and Savoy was a principality at the time." Sebasten Ashford de Savoie spoke with a chuckle, having read on the history of Savoy and having met his father, many years after the fall of Savoy. He tapped his foot, wondering how such a self-proclaimed great house, one that was, as claimed, very wealthy in Savoy, got their own history wrong.

Sebastien de Savoie sat in the back. Despite their hatred towards him, he would be there to support the newly weds. He tapped his half-thigh, right arm cradled around his first child in a loving embrace. Only at the end did he congratulate the pair before falling back into obscure silence.

Ser Sebastien de Savoie lofted a brow as he read the missive in it's entirety. He was not very shocked at the tension growing in the east, for he had discussed it in length with many of his friends from the fallen Oren. The Savoyard rubbed his hand on his good leg before folding the missive and taking out a fresh letter that he might write to his friends in Sedan and Minitz. "Let us pray this resolves peacefully- or atleast that the fighting begins after my clay leg turns to flesh and blood." @Raijen Stars @Capt_Chief26

THE PALATIAL POST First Edition Of Opportunities and Elevations Issued by the OFFICE OF THE PALATINE On this 6th of Tov ag Yermy, 447 E.S. A report on the time between 445 - 447 E.S Table of Contents I. Important Announcements II. Updates to the Aulic Council III. Updates to the Nobility IV. Updates in the Brotherhood of Saint Karl IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENTS Passing of the Queen Mother It is important to celebrate those who advance, but also to remember and mourn those who have passed. The Queen-Mother Emma Karenina Barbanov has sadly passed away. The Queen-Mother and her Husband, King Sigismund III, ruled the kingdom from 391 to 439 E.S. UPDATES TO THE AULIC COUNCIL Resignation of a Dedicated Envoy Ser Matyas Joren Baruch, Aulic Envoy 426 - 446 ES Early in the Envoy’s career, Matyas Baruch worked to maintain the alliance network following the aftermath of the Sinner’s War. Immediately he sought to renew the alliance with the dwarves first, then held diplomatic discussions with EATO. An early challenge in the Baruch’s journey was dealing with the new power in the west, an elevation of Malin’or’s and the elven balance of power. King Karl III and the Envoy sought to make peace with the elves, as to not start up another war. While reconciliation between each of the elven states had yet to yield any true result, both sides did their best to minimize aggression against each other. Soon after, the relation between Haense and Oren began to deteriorate as they attempted intervention in our negotiations with Krugmar, Matyas and his council looked to start preparing the EATO for an upcoming conflict. Following this, this Envoy and his office worked out a tactic negotiation with the Ferryman and Elvin allies for added support to their own line. It was the proudest achievement of his tenure that this coalition grew so overwhelming that a resolution could be forced upon our enemies without the need for protracted conflict. After the war, Matyas helped the continued stability with Haense’s allies in Almaris and helped to write many defensive pacts throughout this time before retiring. Lady Esfir Kortrevich Lady Kortrevich vows to continue the efforts at maintaining peace with all of our currently allies, and maintaining a good relation with the new Kingdom of Aaun. She is hoping to revitalize a new wardship program, and keep accountability in her ambassadors. Send off of a Brother Hieran Melphestaus Taking over after Johann Barlcay, Hieran Melphestaus helps reform and recenter the BSK’s focuses to that they can strengthen their efforts. Following the Brother’s War, Hieran Melphestaus found himself in Haense before eventually coming to lead her armies. While no major battle occurred during the war of the Silver Isles, the Lord Marshal saw it fit to train his military for any conflict that might arise. Following the war, the Melphestaus sought to shift the army's focus so that it could be stronger, better focused. With the help of his officers, he managed to keep his soldiers in line and form the 4th Brotherhood of Saint Karl. Sergei Aleksandr Barbanov Replacing Hieran Melphestaus, Prince Sergei seeks to continue his leadership to keep the army strong and sustainable. REFORMS TO THE OFFICE OF THE PALATINE In order that the office might be reactivated and streamlined into something that is beneficial to the Kingdom, Lady Palatine Johanna has seen fit to completely reform the office. The restructuring of the office has caused a let go of all former occupants, and a rehiring of new ones. Alongside the Lady Palatine, the Secretary of the Palatine, the Head Archivist, and the Deputy Kommissar all work in unison to write, send, gather, and archive important and essential information so that we might clearly see the ongoings of the Kingdom. Additionally, guards have been hired so that the Palatine might safely travel and speak where needed. The Head Guard may be tasked with investigative work on behalf of the Palatine as well. UPDATES TO THE NOBILITY THE BARON OF OSTERVIK House Bishop, after generations of hard work and dedication to the Haeseni-Ruskan Crown has finally been promoted to that of a Barony. House Bishop and its members have been proudly serving the Brotherhood of Saint Karl, the Knight’s of the Crow, and the Royal Duma for decades. So let us congratulate the new Baron of Ostervik and his house. THE MARCH OF EICHENWALDE House Von Draco, formerly known as Romstun, has been loyally serving Haense in both war and peace. Playing a large part in both protecting the Baruch Household, and serving the Kingdom during the War of the Silver Isles, the King has seen it fit to promote them to a Margrave, that they might defend our southern border. This March comes also with the recognition of their titular title of Prince of Mardale, though it is noted that the land they have been granted by the Crown is the March of Eichenwalde. THE FIRST NAUHERZEN House Godunov, a constant member of the Brotherhood of Saint Karl, has been granted the new title of Nauherzen, or ‘New Lord’. This family came into Haense with a vigor for military involvement and contribution, and for such have been granted the title of Nauherzen of Vladorgod. As the first Nauherzen, it should be noted that Nauherzen are granted the styling of ‘Your Lordship.’ THE PASSING ON OF HOUSE RUTHERN The Duke and Duchess of the House of Ruthern have abdicated from their position, though have kept the title of Viscount and Viscountess of Greyspine. Their eldest child, Aleksandr var Ruthern, now holds the title of Duke of Vidaus, Count of Metterden, Baron of Rostig, Lord of Druzstra and Protector of the South. THE PASSING ON OF HOUSE BARCLAY Upon her heirs 18th birthday, the Princess of Sutica and Duchess of Reinmar has since abdicated from the head of House Barclay, leaving all titles related to the position to her son, Wilheim II. The Duchess had led the creation of the village of Rozenfeld, including drafting the architecture for such personally. Built up a well-trained group of House Guards within the Reinmaren Retinue, and grew the Duchy from just the Barclay family to a small community surrounding Reinmar. UPDATES WITHIN THE BROTHERHOOD OATHS Baldrum Colborn, Franziska Ruthern, Drogo Neurmann, PROMOTIONS Sviatoslav Godunov to Lieutenant Euleriphis Melphestaus to Lieutenant Sebastien Bishop to Sergeant Felix Weiss to Armiger Please send a warm congratulations to all those promoted within the Brotherhood of Saint Karl, and those that have taken their oaths. IV JOVEO MAAN Her Excellency, Johanna, Lady Palatine of Hanseti-Ruska. His Lordship, Ser Sebasien de Savoie, Deputy Kommissar of Hanseti-Ruska.

Ser Sebastien lofted a brow, a smirk befalling his face as he read the missive of regeancy. "Do rule well, my friend."

Iulius Vernhart had hardly made it home from visiting his father when he heard the news, then read the message. The weak man, frail and old fell to his knees, the stone before his home scrapping his knees. “You cannot go.” He cried out knowing there was not end… not until his own end. The aged, place Vernhart slowly raised, arms and legs wobbling aggressively as he struggled to stand. He felt the cool blood slide down his foreleg. The oldest Vernhart made his way inside before falling once more at the alter of Saint Harald.

"For a missive that claims they take careful watch, the Hearsay writer is pretty blind." Sebastien said as he stood.

A crippled man rested in his bed, his breath shaky and unsteady. He watched the ceiling with a glossy stare as the opened letter laid within his tired, aged hands. The Queen had always supported him- from there very first time he walked into Karosgrad, to his first Aldermanship, to his marriage to an Orenian Noble during the war, and more. Now, it was her who had finally sought the comfort of her place in the seven skies, finally. Iulius Vernhart cried then, not ensaddened by the fact she had now passed, but for the joy that she would get to see all those who she had loved finally. "I shall join you all soon, I am sure of it." The Firr then closed his eyes and laid the note to the side.

Sebastien Ashford de Savoie blinks "Huh... Gio and I are related"

Iulius Vernhart struggled to stand. He had deteriorated so much over these last couple years. However, he hobbled to get his cain before making his way out the door. He was to see the Queen-Mother.

Borris Iver Kortrevich sat back at his desk, in a room that was tucked deep within the new keep in the county. There was muffled yells and laughers above him, echoing throughout the walls of the keep. However, he did not leave his room to celebrate with the rest of them. He simply took a sliver of paper and began to write the lines like he always did.

A Call to Crusade 6th of Horen's Calling, 1891 Take up your swords, Take up your cross, Take up the words Of the Holy Lord above. March with a passion, A might only Godan provides. Seek out the ashen, Those who lack his goodness. Cut down this evil, For it shall corrupt this world, And this darkness shall grow, Consuming everyone’s soul. So take up your pike, Your shield or your bow. Take up scythes, Pitchforks or stones. Take up the holy weapon, The blessed aurum dagger, For it’s blade has been baptized In the waters of the Lord. Find this crusade, A march to glory. Rush to canonist’s aid, It is your call. Do not simply fall, Landing upon your knees. For prayer gains much strength, But GOD is with our blade. Strike down the unholy, Those that uproot God’s name. They shall not persist, They shall not see the light of day. Take up your swords, Take up your cross, Take up the words Of the Holy Lord above. Signed, Borris Iver Kortrevich, KML Battle-Bard of the BSK, Knight's Bard, and Court Poet of Hanseti-Ruska

Iulius Vernhart underlined sections of the short missive before jotting down notes in his journal. “I am glad Lord Ruthern has decided to join he crusade as any good Canonist would, but there is more to be paid then simple dues to the Lord, for it is both the Law of God and Kingdom that he has broken.” The Firr’s sickly hand shook as it dabbed the quill into his ink jar. He began to write once more. “If one could declare his own penance, there would be no peace or justice in the Kingdom. There is no pleasure in persecuting the unrighteous, yet it is what must be done.” The aged man then dotted a period in his journal and set it out to dry as he gave a long, raspy sigh. Iulius Vernhart bowed his head in prayer. This was, perhaps, to be the last of him. Surely his diseased bones would not survive the incoming battles.

Sebastien Ashford de Savoie’s grin widened as he placed a hand on the two men beside him, all three were clad in chain. “The call has been heard and answered in kind. Now I shall fight alongside you in glorious, holy battle.” @Capt_Chief26@Raijen Stars

The Savoyard’s grin widened at the prospect. “I would be glad to join a canonist brother to cut down this vile pagan group who threaten both allies and the innocent. However, I am not some mercenary, I shall wait to see what my King’s thoughts on the matter are.” @GMRO

Selection of Poetry - Vol. 18 6th of Wzuvar ag Byvca, 443 E.S. See the Warmth Yonder stood the lilacs clear With blessed purple pedal. Field of ripe awaited pollen, Yearning to be spread. Sun over yon meadow breaks, With orange illumination. The cock crows at first light, Telling all to come awake. What beauty doth this world behold, There are stories yet to be told. If you simply go and look around, There are many joys to be found. Utop a Tower Wan fair maiden perches atop the tower, Eyes dulled as she rested there. For no truth did this woman behold, The world was mute and stagnate. What poor lost soul did she command, Her form was stale and depleted. For she had lost all hope of escape, Trapped away inside a high tower. Never to feel the grass on her toes, She wept and wept and wept. “Oh dear Lord, release me so” The voice echoed off cold stone. So she sat, in horrid repair, Her muscles ached with longing, To go out there, to smell fresh air, Anything to set her free. A voice then called out, “Oh you, up in the tower.” The voice of one not sick, The voice of one to help. How that person set her free, Unshackling her chains so that She may make her escape. Out of the tower, out into the world. Her toes finally touched the dirt, The moistness, coolness of the ground. Each blade of grass tickled her foot, As they fell in between her toes. So she was set free, The one who was trapped in the tower. Wan fair maiden finding health Within the fields of flowers. And finally the truth was revealed, As she spun through the meadow. The one that was one a bland speck, Did burst forth with color and life. Foundation of the Son Awake, Awake, feel the earth shake. The roar of a thousand footsteps, Marching to the rhythm. Rise, Rise, lift up your eyes. The growing of a young man, Training for the Throne. Ward, Ward, raise up your sword. To serve your future king, Swearing to the oath. A once fractured glimpse, Our own Grand Prince, We find ourselves made whole. Signed, Borris Iver Kortrevich, KML

A NIGHT TO REMEMBER ISSUED BY SEBASTEIN OLIVIER ASHFORD DE SAVOIE Upon the 6th of Joma ag Umund, 442 E.S. Friends, the Lifstala season is soon upon us! The time for each one of us to find a counterpart draws near. How quickly the days have come and gone, flying past as we blink our eyes. Soon, most of us shall enter a new stage in our lives. With this season comes the joy, the pain, the happiness, the anger, and all the other emotions that follow love and passion. But those days have not yet come! So let us enjoy ourselves before we begin to worry! I invite all participating in Lifstala to join me for a party within the forgotten rooms of the palace! Revel in fun without worrying about the future. Lose yourself within the laughter and comradery. Drinks will be provided. Party games shall be played. Make this a night to remember or a night to forget the next day. O N T H E 12 T H O F W Z U V A R A G B Y V C A 4 4 4 E X A L T E D S I G I S M U N D SIGNED, HIS LORDSHIP, Sebastien Ashford de Savoie FIRRESS, Viorica Barrow [OOC]