DahStalker

Elia Eryka gawked over the missive with a warm smile and nod. She anticipated the reign of her cousin, Ada.

The wife of the Lubba stared silently at the words across the page, lips quivering. She sucked in a sharp breath purely in distraught, chest heaving with anguish. She folded the parchment up into a small square, stuffing it in her pocket.

((Literally the best pick for the position ngl, will do good to carry on good vibes the namesake just as Adam had))

First the arrow struck her collarbone. The second arrow struck her head. It was that Mihyari menace behind the crossbow who shot Kolette, causing her that physical demise. The focus and steady which unfurled into her ungraceful doom. At least she didn't burn like Darya, she had thought, gripping the reins of her steed more tautly. As she glanced rightward to the mourning Masuo who struggled not to break. She inhaled, soon after shifting her sights to the wagon they lugged to Petra. Angelika, Solun, Verres, and Henry. Two wounded and asleep, one weeping for the loss of her sister, and one steeled as he gazed out at the endless mounds of sand and towering cacti. The images would haunt her forever -- of her first killing. Of the woman who deftly wept in pleads of forgiveness and death as corruption crawled within her frame, consuming the once kind soul. She grits her teeth, causing a pained neigh from the animal below who roused in discomfort and near alarm. A calming palm lowered to their neck as she provided it comfort, eyes steeling ahead. "Dangerous and harmful." She'd recite to herself, recalling her last words to Kolette. The woman would forever mourn, never acquiring peace over this death.

As the keep roared asunder the young woman gripped unto the flank of Henry, supporting the wounded man with a heaving torso. She had finished slaughtering the corrupt mage, floor trembling under her feet as they hoped to support themselves against the havoc. "We-.. we must go!" She had started to scream aloud, though her cries fell upon deaf ears. Shrieks had come, filling her mind as the burning corpse of Darya fell from the tower of the keep, out of her sight. Only after when she sought to hastily evacuate that crumbling fortification did she dare sneak a peer downwards, catching a glimpse of what was the fate of that unfortunate Hexer. Her stomach churned.

Elia Eryka offers her buddy Lady Palatine - who designed most if not all of the city - a pat on the back. @Zaerie

Elia Eryka catches her romantically.

Elia Eryka's lips formed a smile, head bobbing in delight and approval.

I should have been more specific, I had meant projects currently regarding this map and not next. Apologies

I'm on my way to class, so I'll make this quick. Please for the love of everything above, give us an estimate of next map. I'm not impatient, id rather you take your time, but we are overlooking a vital part of our map transition. Our builders. I've heard so many rumors of when our next map will be, spanning anywhere from 4 months to next winter. A lot of people I know are making builds and exhausting themselves including me just because we don't know when the next map is, or even an estimate. Is there a possibility for the sake of builder burnout we get a specific estimate? Thank you.

Elia Eryka lowers her shades on her honeymoon, reading the parchment. “Kusin Lorence is getting married! That is so gudi.” She said, showing her husband. @AndrewTech

Somewhere in hell Priscilla Amelia recalls how House de Savoie welcomed her. Offering her both nobility and placing her familial colors within their grand fighting grounds. The Prince de Savoie claiming that her bloodline was in-fact powerful and prominent.

((oh hueh that's my bad! I had put in my bulletin points “kingdom” rather than the correct terminology. The Lucien I part is entirely okay though as it was assumed he had passed away irp. This was via rp due to Stefaniya’s relations with Evanna ad the time and the mysterious disappearance

Tabitha silently swept the floor in the vacant room with an uncomfortable poise, digits gripping tightly onto that broom as they additionally remained paired with her beloved cross. The maid had been sent by her employer the Matriarch de Leuven to clean out the emptied room of the deceased Priscilla Amelia, hoping to clear it up now that the period of mourning had passed. Nothing remained of the woman but ushers from her peers had convinced her that the vile woman certainly wouldn't reach the seven skies, and surely haunted the estate. As Tabitha muttered a frenzy of prayers, she came across the desk with a pale visage at the items seen. With a shriek and cry she scurried from the room. Nothing abnormal, merely her beloved dagger; Baiser de la Mort. Laid upon her copy of the House de Leuven missive - her final work.

Announcement of Death ________________________________ ________________________________ It is with great sorrow that we within House de Leuven hereby announce the unfortunate death of Lady Priscilla Amelia de Leuven. During the later hours of the night the servants had discovered the fallen Ashford deceased in her bed, having passed away during slumber. We request a period of mourning and respect as we cope and endure with this devastating loss, thank you. House de Leuven _________________________________________________ The last flicker of life swelled in her mind, rapidly changing its course as the woman laid in her bed. It was dimmed within her room, the gentle sway of her oil lamp enhancing the dusty four corners held at the edge of her wall. Such a bitterly slow decay, she thought. The irking chirps of crickets kept her at bay as she hacked away into a nearby basin, clotted with specks of blood. Sleep, she desired sleep, yet it struggled to come. In and out in her haze did the images come, consuming her in this miserable state. Bada-dum, bada-dum, bada-dum-............ First it was the dinner party where the four corners of her room expanded outward into a grandiose hall of elaborate wallpaper, every square holding onto a small painted insignia of that Ashford household. From afar she saw her two sisters frolic and spin, dressed in their finest silks as the younger girls were gawked at by nannies. They had always seemed to stress their caregivers, she called. Evanna with her pickiness, Margarita with her chaos, and she with her crudeness. A chuff then escaped her as soon two figures came into sight: one with locks of aureate and the other a silky brown. Her parents, her parents, her parents. Ba-Bada-dum, bada-dum, B-Bada-dum-.... The second vision came more harshly as the reality around her sputtered, bouncing as if against the waves of pounding drums. She was in San Luciano, rays shining down upon her as vicious roars of thrill filled her ears. Down below a game of strength within the sandy pits of the coliseum occurred, blade against blade. However, it was not the admired sport that caught her gaze, but the viridescent eyes from afar. She could not recall her name, the name of her first love. The sharp contours of their features, perfection of the composure and laid hands, and length of her raven curls. Her name, she could not remember her name. Only the taste of strawberry upon her lips. B-Ba-Bada-dum, Ba-Bada-dum, B-Ba-Bada-dum-.... She did not like this vision, it was gruesome, full of regret. Eighty-eight. Those two digits, she dreaded them. It began with an Alstion, and it ended with one too. Her dagger, that wretched but godsent gift. Who was the last? She could not recall, only the first. She was thirteen and he was four. His neck had been sliced so effortlessly; his cries so feeble while his mother's came out akin to a roar. He could have had a family like her, he could have been a husband or even a brother. His own Uncle had ordered his death, to be carried out so that a wretched relative might be heir instead of him. To be heir of a titleless aristocrat. How many did she have to slaughter so her sisters could live peacefully? B-B-Bada-dum, B-B-Babada-dum......... Lastly, she saw her family, her most cherished thing in life. She saw her best-friend and love Daniel, who held her up as she sought to support them. He was her anchor, she loved him greatly. She saw herself in her beloved eldest Caterina, a woman of grand composure and wit. She saw her husband in Lucrezia, determined yet loving. Cosimo, a boy and his crossbow, akin to she and her dagger. Ipera, that downfallen girl. She dreaded her behavior, how she picked up the impulsiveness of Margarita. Yet, just as quickly she saw a brief spark of memory; cradling her youngest babe in swaddled cloth as she murmured the name, “Ipera, Ipera-... Ipera, my sweet sun.” Oh, how her heart ached. Emelie, Manon, Ophelie. They were not her daughters, but she wished they were. Undeserving of the cruelty they faced much akin to herself. They would be well, she thought, they would be well. She could not recall the last thought as she idled there, chest heaving more slowly as the feeling of her fingers faded up to the neck gradually. GOD, please save me, she thought. She pleaded and begged, but in the end-... The sun had lowered, and she was faced with darkness. B-B-B-Bada-dum... Bada-...b...b...b...b-.. _______________________________________________________________ To House Leuven: _______________________________________________________

Priscilla Amelia herself is greatly curious of this. Additionally, she wondered who was LeBron?

A Fresh Dawn 11th of Jula ag Piov, 447 ____________________________________________________________________________________________________________ The prestigious family of Ashford de Falstaff has been around since the age of de Bar, born from the son of Ser Baldwin ‘the Black’ who sought only to revel in his own long-lasting legacy. Wrought from the sins of their fathers, the kin of this foretold ancestor allied themselves with the domains of Orenia, Savoy, and Haense. However, due to negligence from our parentage, it is evident through retellings of history we do not adhere to the same outdated ideals as our forefathers. It is with great consideration that we, House de Leuven, deem it proper to officially split ourselves from our newfound sibling lineage. THE SINS OF OUR FATHERS ARE NOT OURS. A fresh dawn is upon us. With the prospect of a glorious future my kin shall grasp at every promising vine, fastening them to the roots which is our ancestry. Forged from the sins of our fathers, they shall not guide us, but rather the might of our mothers. Since my arrival in Haense, I have watched as this younger generation of Falstaff grew, abandoned by their fathers but not lost in hope. However, they suffered as a result of their namesake, weighed under its stained reputation. They are not Savoyard, they are not Orenian, they are Haeseni. As a result, I make the following decree: A cadet of Ashford de Falstaff shall be formed and led by Emelie Ada Rousile Francesca de Leuven, belonging solely to Haenseti-Ruska. They shall be known as: House de Leuven. ______________________________________________________________________________________________________________ Only the following and their offspring may hold this blessed name: EMÈLIE ADA ROUSILE FRANCESCA DE LEUVEN MANON YVAINE DE LEUVEN OPHELIE ELEANORE DE LEUVEN PRISCILLA AMELIA DE LEUVEN EVANNA ANNA DE LEUVEN ENSELT OTTAVIAN DE LEUVEN ALERAN CALANDRO DE LEUVEN PHILIPPE THEOFREDA DE LEUVEN GIOVANNA BELLA DE LEUVEN THÈODORE OLIVER DE LEUVEN DANIEL JOHN DE LEUVEN COSIMO ARMANDE DE LEUVEN May GOD guide us, Her Ladyship, Emelie Ada Rousalie Francesca de Leuven, Matriarch of House de Leuven, the Silver Stag Her Ladyship Priscilla de Leuven, Founder of House de Leuven, ‘the Harsh’

Betrothal of a Falcon and Lady Goat _____________________________________________________________________________________________ House Stafyr and House Colborn are happy to announce the formal betrothal of Mister Arthur Konrad Stafyr and Lady Elia Eryka Colborn. After a long duration of a grand friendship, the pair had decided to blossom into a fruitful courtship. One of such that only proved their strong compatibility easily approved under the watchful gaze of Horen and Saint Julia. It is with the blessing of GOD and both houses that we usher them into another period of prosperity, this one toward a more solidified unification. As celebration of their union, the pair shall venture for one or two years in honor of Lady Elia Eryka's great-grandfather and prior Baron of Bethlenen, Adrian Erik. May GOD’s light shine upon their path into future marriage. Couple Message: We would like to extend our gratitude first most to our beloved fathers; Adrian Colborn, Nikolas Stafyr, and Hannes de Vilain. And furthermore, our beloved mothers; Theodrada Stafyr and Anna Maria Colborn. With their guidance whether it be upon this realm or from the seven skies, they’ve led us to this point. We thank the support of both our families, and figures such as His Royal Majesty Karl III, the Lady Palatine, and our beloved friends. May GOD guide you all. Family through Fire, Licent, Honorem, Pietas. His Lordship and Baron of Bethlenen, Ser Maric "The Steadfast" Ared Dietrick Gerard Colborn Patriarch of Stafyr, Arthur Konrad Stafyr HAUCHARKIETAT and Lady, Elia Eryka Colborn

Elia Eryka stared at the parchment with a trembling grasp, lips thinned tautly. Without another word she shredded in into what seemed like thousand of pieces, feeding them to the hungry flames of her hearth.

Elia Eryka Colborn snorted as she gawked at the missive beside her relative. "When those in charge of the courts are nejt remember fondly for their cruelty and incompetence, I will feel nejt an ounce of pity for them. It seems like few cannot take a clue when the - as they stated - majority of their courts seem devastatingly appalled and upset." She said in the privacy of her home, petting the hide of her goat. "At least I have the courage to speak out against something that I and others view as improper and wrong. Unlike this mysterious writer who hides behind closed doors with their tail between their legs."

Elia Eryka thought of the final conversation she held with the woman, toying with a ruby necklace wrought about her neck. Wordlessly she approached the window of her bedroom and watched below as the floor became laden with snow, providing only a warm smile. "Long live the Koenas." She muttered, inhaling sharply with a few tears sparking to the brim of her eyes. Lady Blue, she had thought. A woman who she would idolize, a woman who she would recall and aspire to be like.

Birthright of a Bastard 7th of GRONNA AG DROBA, 445 ES I, Lady Priscilla Amelia Ashford de Falstaff, The head of my household fully acknowledged the following for legitimization; Giovanna Florentine. It is with my keen observation through my eyes and peers, that I deem her to fit for the transition from bastard to being a fully-fledged member of the household. Born from my youngest sister Margarita Baldwin Ashford de Falstaff, the young Giovanna has beyond proven herself worthy of her mother's surname through might of sword, wit, and determination. I hereby name the young bear, Giovanna Bella Ashford de Falstaff. As per the law of Haurul Caezk, King Karl III also does deem her legitimized. May GOD and her Ashford roots bless her. His Royal Majesty KARL III by the Grace of Godan, King of Hanseti and Ruska, Grand Hetman of the Army, Prince of Bihar, Dules, Lahy, Muldav, Solvesborg, Slesvik and Ulgaard, Duke of Carnatia and Vanaheim, Margrave of Korstadt, Rothswald and Vasiland, Count of Alban, Alimar, Baranya, Graiswald, Karikhov, Karovia, Kaunas, Kavat, Kovachgrad, Kvasz, Markev, Nenzing, Torun, and Toruv, Viscount of Varna, Baron of Esenstadt, Kraken’s Watch, Kralta, Krepost, Lorentz, Rytsburg, Thurant, Venzia and Astfield, Lord of the Westfolk, Protector of the Highlanders, etcetera Lady Priscilla Amelia de Falstaff, Matriarch of de Falstaff