whiteferrarii

---
Upon a cool afternoon within the city of Providence, a pallid youth sat by his bedroom window, knuckles pale as he gripped his quill and penned words upon a page. His gaze occasionally flicked to peer out over the snow-clogged streets of the city, beyond the walls and to the stretches of sea. With boyish fascination, Vinzant var Ruthern spent hours, lonesome in his room, jotting lines through words he felt clumsily fitted with others and scribbling characters a near dozen times to perfect their particular shape and indent upon the page. He had practised for some time, writing and rewriting, before completing his emotive work.
---
AN ANCHORED LONGING
Patent shoes, I do not do–
I stalk these halls, bare-footed
True. Search my pockets for
stolen linen, needle, cheese
My toes are loud– they creak.

At my windowsill, clouds
smear the sky like spilt glue
and I wonder what toils, what shower
will crack from the vault–
blessed this pane, rain given unto me.

Open the shutters, Cry Havoc!
Wet my hands, my cheeks, my face
bloom me in this necropolis–
raise hydrangeas from my toes
I am sick of only water-logged eyes.

He watches me– his ruby pupil
propped in the eye of a sentry, a marble Aengul
his mumbling words, his gripping fist
he thunders with no vapour, no downpour
I dodge his arcing javelin, his thudding tome.

Patent leather, I do not do–
I miss my mother, her satin touch
her slipper shoe. Wrap me in swaddling
silk and cotton, return me to
her blooming womb.

In every wall is a cornerstone
bleak bricks built non-breaking–
‘Am still searching this institution
for tiny resolutions, a crack
for invasive and engulfing oceans.

Spill forth! Let me be
Ruther in this moment,
Let me hammer my own thunder
crumble this tower
bring me to the far ice-melt greens.

---
352 ES | 3 S.A.
written by Vinzant Nikolas var Ruthern

Fasri nods. "Wihyse wohmahn tu leev. Cooruhn es bahd." 

Fasri the kharajyr furrows his brow. "Varees es ah bahd mahn... he tried tu keel hes waiyf." 

5 minutes ago, TJBMinecraft said:

Tyranical hold?!?, you know nothing. I give her every opportunity to be free and have a life. It wasn't my fault she slept with a man in wedlock that led to her being sent to the abbey in which in my opinion made her miserable."

Claudas collects the evidence. "You are stupid." 

9 hours ago, Dumbrarere said:

is that you forgive me for the things that my husband has forced on me.

9 hours ago, Dumbrarere said:

I'd have annulled the marriage long ago.

9 hours ago, Dumbrarere said:

They brought this misery upon me, and even as construction remains at a standstill, I have to do all I can to keep my wits about me and remain sane.

Claudas scratches his head. "Dissolve the kingdom, Thomas, and let your wife leave your tyrannical hold over her. Or better most, lass, usurp the throne of this monarchy, send Thomas sprawling, and take charge. Despite it all, I do think the people would rather have you take the throne and make some sensible decisions rather than your thick-headed husband. Take his throne, dissolve his kingdom, and seek a vassalage under Haense or Curon, I think is wisest." 

Claudas Vimmark spits. 

2 hours ago, TJBMinecraft said:

"Would you really elect a man that slept with someone else's wife, the same man who attacked a man of GOD. If so this principality may of ruined itself once and for all. But what am I saying I made a Kingdom out of the blue." Thomas would say

Claudas Vimmark wrinkles his nose. "Isn't your wife pleading publicly to usurp your leadership over a kingdom that has no base of foundation? Not only is your crown empty, yet your marriage seems to be too. Get ya head out of matters that don't concern you and focus on your marriage, for GOD's sake she's miserable and shaming your family name." 

MAYORAL SPEECH

Good evening, good people of Cyrilsburg. I am Claudas Augustus Vimmark, a man who has be a part of the makeup of Curon since the first days of settlement on this continent of Atlas. Continually, our good country has grown and experienced great diversity and transformation as the years have gone on. It was a balanced decision that I made to run for Mayor of Cyrilsburg, based on the foundations that a new day is on the horizon. We only must look beyond our walls and borders to the familiar human bastions to understand the dire situation that our people find ourselves in. As Mayor, I promise that every man and woman will be a compulsory cog of our nation’s drive forward! The faucets of society are to be improved through my governance, by introducing new policies that will enhance the opportunity of the labourer, protect the commercial retailer, and encourage women and minorities to engage in the livelihood that is our societal business. The machinations of the politicians of Curon will be debated and argued within our square, and the people will have the chance to stand behind their podium of public freedom, and say what they must say. Throughout my time of service in Curon, I have noticed the continual progressions of bandit peoples against our city. As Mayor, I will ensure that our funds are being put into the protection and upgrades of the fortifications and defences of our city. Furthermore, as Mayor, I would push structural reform for the legal system in current place. All men and women of Curon society will have the right to be provided with a lawyer by the national firm. The people of Curon will have the protection and freedom they are righted to. If I reach office, I will form a council that will have seats delegated to the common people, man and woman. It is the people that make up our country, and it is the people who will lead these critical charges and campaigns of growth and reform! No man or woman will feel oppressed in our city again. No man or woman will have their voices drowned out. Our country will charge with fire in her belly! My campaign is one of fervour and passion; not for the prestige or desire to occupy an office as the other candidates may have want to do. A new day is on the horizon, for all the peoples of Curon. We will not fall into complacency with a form that does not occupy the constituional rights of our denizens! That is all, ladies and gentlemen.

AVE CURON. 

Claudas Horen-Vimmark heads north.

Claudas hears the news. "One of my men slept with the woman, it is true, though the Tosalis must mourn for the loss--, regardless of what she was."

this is brilliantly written mate 

Victor Alric would scowl from the Seven Skies, disgusted in the pathetic responses made to the opinion. "Yet he is now Arch-Duke of Hanseti-Ruska, and you, snakes that whisper and squabble in foreign grass, follow a king who lost you your home. Marius cannot claim the title of Protector of the Highlanders because he did not win. He failed to protect his people and their home. Ashamed I am, to see the people I once thought kin now act like pouting children, refusing to face the truth." Before retreating to lift a cup of red, he would nod with approval to the new arch-duke of the north. 

Warwick Richard read over the treaty with approval, sheets of pale rain beating against the surface of his cloak. He leaned forward in his saddle as he rode hard into the southern realm of Tahn, grey-green eyes watchful as he and his twin sister made their way to someplace warm. 

Victor Ruthern would blink at the missive. "My grandfather spoke of the two princesses; Charlotte and Anna. He spoke true." He would turn away, clutching at a pain in his lower chest as he moves to see his children. 

3 hours ago, D0C104_F4T3 said:

"I mean I like this but it seems like a really bad idea also," says Nikolai, whilst working his wood

Victor is happy to see him working the wood, though he hears a faint hissing - a slithering sound resonating from the grass. "Oh no Nikolai, your brothers have arrived!" 

Ruthern Restoration Act of 1604

Issued by the hand of Count Victor Ruthern and His Majesty, King Tobias.

By bones and barrows,

the traitorous usurper of Metterden has surrendered to the Courlandic forces, led by his majesty, King Tobias. Eric the Black’s corrupt rule over the Ruthern lineal land was one short-lived, and as predicted, one without the capacity to contain achievement or success. The north has surrendered, and the snow-swept lands of Hanseti are now held within the grasp of Staunton. It grieves the denizens of Ruthern to see their homeland be savaged by such violence, yet such stubbornness and ignorance only demanded that justice was brought. No side is innocent in the ugliness of war, and therefore Victor II Ruthern, Count of Metterden, hereby declares that his sisters, cousins and direct familial relations are welcome to take refuge and find a place at his table within the keep of Alriczan, in accordance to the writ of terms forged between the Barbanov and Staunton patriarchs.

The sisters of Victor II Ruthern are beckoned to come home to their familial seat of Metterden. They are encouraged to either embrace the noble society of the victorious Courland, or maintain an individual identity within the comforts of their home of Metterden.

Count Victor shall assume lordship over the lands and holdings of Metterden, and with such ascension, Eric Ruthern is hereby required to vacate the county. If Eric swears an oath of fealty to the king and supposedly becomes a denizen of Courland, he is granted the right to live in peace with the rest of the kingdom, however his presence will not be accepted within the county of Metterden. Sworn to Staunton or not, proceeding into the county will be seen as a hostile act and will be met with severe consequence. As patriarch of the Ruthern house and count of the ancestral holdings, Victor Alric declares that Eric’s claim on the Ruthern name has been nullified and will no longer be regarded as apart of the house. His claim on the house holdings and the name is no longer, and any of his issue shall not be acknowledged as apart of the direct Ruthern lineage. Disobeying these acts - falsely taking the Ruthern name or disregarding his expulsion from Metterden - will result in a trial and considerable punishment by His Right Honorable and His Majesty.

With Knowledge Comes Power,

Signed,

HIS ROYAL MAJESTY, Tobias Staunton, King of Courland, Hanseti and Ruska, Duke of Eastbourne, Courland, Eruthos, the Heartlands, Frederica, Cascadia, Count of Aleksandria, Riga, Westmark, Beauclair, Sundholt, Wett and Eastmark, Lord of Mt. St. Tobias, Baron of Vsenk, the Rightful Protector of the Heartlanders and the Highlanders

The Right Honorable Sixth Count Victor II of Metterden, Lord Marshal of the Order of the Edelweiss, Protector of the Pass, Baron of Rostig, and Lord of Alriczan.

His lordship, Adelwen Alexander Ruthern.

Viktor Ruthern nods with approval. 

Viktor Alric Ruthern would nod his head with approval of the project, fostering a subtle admiration for the active queen. He considers perhaps a potential bride being in the midst of said wardship program. He snorts to himself, slinging his yew bow over his shoulder and heading up the mountainous tracks of the Greyspine. 

"Rest well." Viktor Ruthern says out of deep respect for the man. 

"Good." Viktor Ruthern says, cleaning out his apartments in Aleksandria in preparation to head home. 

Viktor Alric Ruthern would nod in approval, proud that the lands of Cleves are to be given to an honourable man. 

Viktor Alric Ruthern, the rightful count of Metterden and baron of Rostig, would venture forth through the sea of dead bodies, face grey. "It did not need to be this... but it is what it is." He would sheathe his weapon, and continue walking.

Viktor Ruthern wonders if the mercenary group would rally for a more just and honourable cause within the south. 

Viktor nods with approval to his brothers in arms, though he hopes no harm will come to his sisters that dwell in the north. 

Viktor wonders why this family has so many weird names for their lands and people.

Viktor would nod and smile at the news, his gaze stretched out over yonder from his chambers of the palace. "Lit'el Kovachev lady isn't so lit'el anymore! GOD bless, Adrijana." he would say to himself, before stepping away to speak to his peers.