Andustar

Albert Salvian was perturbed, for the beast he had bore witness to all those years ago had at last freed itself from its bonds. "Such a terror cannot be allowed to roam free across the realm. I will ride to Amaethea; they shall have my sword and lance in these trying times."

Albert Salvian looked proudly upon his younger brother's project. "You never fail to impress me, Arnaud. I look forward to the release of more decks in the future."

Albert Salvian smiled in witnessing the council's most recent work. "A wide variety of professions for prospective settlers. Let's hope people take full advantage of these opportunities!"

The activity system is an RP strangler that kills communities. Recently my own group was faced with the dilemma of either vassalise under a nation or be essentially made a non-entity going into the next map. We climbed out of a civil war with a decently sized playerbase and unique culture, bearing every intention of rebuilding. Yet, we were informed that due to the nature of activity checks and so forth we would be unable to acquire land come the transition. With that knowledge on hand, many people ultimately went on hiatus, disheartened that they could not rebuild independently without the administration breathing down their necks. To me it looks like instead of wanting to promote a unique and enjoyable experience the administration are more concerned with a numbers game, propping up only the largest nations to encourage player retention via RP quantity. But there is a problem with this model in that inevitably people seek to branch out and develop their own projects of quality, often times starting off small in their efforts. As we have already established they are punished for this ingenuity. How can you expect a flower to bloom if it is immediately trampled the moment it sprouts from the soil?

A grin of excitment took shape upon Albert's face, the young squire at work ensuring that his equipment was in good condition for the tourney.

A NEW BEGINNING Circa. 14th Malin's Welcome, 1912. To the people of Corbenic, Since the death of our late Archduke Constanz, there has been much confusion in regards to our future as a people, exiled to the wilderness from a country we once held so dear. All of us, young and old, have endured trials and tribulations that many of us thought were consigned to the histories. Much was lost, and so we have been forced to wander for years as refugees and vagrants in foreign lands. But alas, with every ending comes a new beginning. In Corbenic we stand, and though there is still much for us to do, we now possess a foothold in which we can rebuild. Our reformed Council and the newly formed Committee of Representatives shall work tirelessly to ensure that this opportunity does not go to waste. To ensure that our cherished traditions of chivalry persevere and honor those who made the ultimate sacrifice. Council of Corbenic Reformed from the Commonwealth’s apparatus and composed of members of the former government, the Round Table shall henceforth operate as the Council of Corbenic. The council members sit as equals from one to another, with no one having more say than the next. As of now, the specific purview in which these council members operate shall be subject to change in the foreseeable future. Her Ladyship, Evangeline Daphne de Rosius-Malenos @PrettyCuteAnna Her Ladyship, Clementine Amadea Huntshill Green @Blah_26 His Lordship, Sir Gregory ‘Wings’ von Hahn @MikhaiI Her Ladyship, Aviana von Hahn @AnonymousAlexa His Lordship, Artiev Colborn @Sander Advisors to Corbenic: His Lordship, Sir Louis Valencour d’Azor @Da_Emperors Committee of Representatives The lower governing body of Corbenic is the Committee of Representatives. Established in wake of the Petran exodus, the Committee is composed of individuals drawn from the common populace, recognised for their leadership qualities and ability to raise morale in periods of strife. In addition to organising seasonal festivities and cultural gatherings, the Representatives act as liaisons between the everyday citizens of Corbenic and the Council, presenting proposals on domestic policy and the wishes of the populace. Her Ladyship, Eryane Rhodon de Rosius @EmiliainWonderland Her Ladyship, Laetitia “Lottie” Henrietta Rhodon de Rosius et Abbassia @Majesticpasta His Lordship, Sir Darryl Burnham @ChaoticRoller SIGNED, The Council of Corbenic The Committee of Representatives

HOUSE DE LYONS “Do Not Provoke the Lions” The House de Lyons is a knightly family of Heartlanders, initially hailing from the Province of Endaen, upon the continent of Aeldin. Although previously rendered an obscure name following its exodus from the distant continent, the bloodline has since reemerged in the realms of men, aspiring to uphold honour and chivalry above all else. ~HISTORY~ Foundation ~ 15th Century By Louis Edmund de Lyons; Circa. 1568. At the onset of the Imperial Age and the establishment of the Horosid Dynasty, the northern territory of Aeldin was steadily brought into compliance by the rapid expansion of the heartland armies. Among those subjugated were the native Harrenite clans of the region of Endaen, brigandish folk thought by outsiders to be little more than uncivilised rogues. The Empire reluctantly spared the bulk of these clans from the sword, on the condition they swore oaths of fealty and pledged their martial strength to aid in future conquests. Yet, as occupational forces withdrew in wake of establishing a provincial government, the stringent control of hardened generals gave way to weak-minded bureaucrats. Rebuffing the counsel of interventionist advisors for a laissez-faire approach, the new Governor of Endaen permitted the Harrenites to continue practising their barbaric way of life, believing it would facilitate long-term amicable relations. So long as the Imperial tithe was paid, their inclination for plundering the border territories would be tolerated. Clan Scrymgeour stood as one of the oldest Harrenite bloodlines of Endaen and were among the most powerful too. Adept skirmishers who proved lethal in lightning warfare, Imperial censuses suggest that from the territories they controlled the Clan could muster nearly three thousand riders. Donagh Scrymgeour, their petty lord, was swift to take advantage of the Governor’s incompetence, ordering his men to ransack merchant caravans and isolated hamlets, so that their coffers might overflow by winter. But ever an avaricious opportunist, Donagh foolishly perceived the decadence of the Empire’s nobility as total ignorance, attacking sanctioned state convoys and withholding tributes to the crown. Furthermore, when the provincial government sought to treat with Clan Scrymgeour and procure a diplomatic solution, the Harrenites openly mocked and dismissed the olive branch as a farce. At last, acknowledging that an example had to be made of such blatant defiance, the Governor of Endaen declared Clan Scrymgeour traitors and in open rebellion. The aftermath of a Harrenite raid; Unknown Date. With an entire province taking up arms against his Clan, Donagh surmised that survival depended on defeating the Imperials in the field before they could muster a substantial force, thereby reopening negotiations in his favour. The Scrymgeours took to the lowlands, harrying rural populations and setting ambushes along the main roads to the provincial capital of Langford, thereby depriving the army of able-bodied recruits and provoking a premature advance. In the following weeks, an Imperial regiment was hastily dispatched into the countryside to give battle to the Harrenite reivers, seeking to end their revolt. Leading the retribution force was a young knight-errant hailing from the Heartlands, Sir Lyonel de la Foret, who had previously distinguished himself in the eastern Imperial campaigns. A significant portion of Lyonel’s army were veterans of the long-winded war for Aeldin’s unification - five hundred heavy cavalry and just over a thousand men-at-arms. But just as Donagh had hoped, this force stood at barely half the size of his own host. The reivers beckoned Sir Lyonel into their country, rallying their combined might in sight of the Scrymgeours’ own ancestral seat. Donagh was confident in securing a decisive victory, his banners gathered in full force before the numerically inferior Imperial host. The three thousand Harrenite riders positioned themselves upon the foothills of the nearby river valley, staring down the Knight-Errant’s armoured front lines, who had adopted a defensive formation just beyond the shelter of a coniferous forest. Sir Lyonel understood the severity of his disadvantage and so took to establishing perimeter trenches with sharpened stakes upon his flanks. The thick surrounding foliage also served as cover, allowing the Knight-Errant to disguise his smaller host’s movements and seek refuge from the projectiles of the Harrenite light cavalry. He was well aware that in order for Donagh to have any chance of truly vanquishing him, the rebel lord would have to meet him directly in a contest of arms. All that remained was to wait, for whilst Clan Scrymgeour were ferocious warriors they lacked discipline and were easily roused into a frenzy. Patience would win the day - the Empire could wait. Sir Lyonel engaging Donagh Scrymgeour and his bodyguard; Circa. 1490. War horns sounded at the break of the following day as Sir Lyonel’s sentries spotted movement along the ridge. Just as the Knight-Errant had anticipated, bloodlust and a yearning for battle had enticed the Scrymgeours to make the first move, a third of their army advancing. The well-formed Imperial host stepped just beyond the treeline to face the Harrenite vanguard, their tower shields and pikes aloft as the many cycles of javelins and arrows were absorbed by the front line. Retaliating, Sir Lyonel’s archers released volleys unto the hill slopes, catching the lightly armed riders in a hail of death. Scores of reivers fell from their horses, wailing and dying as their lord looked on in apprehension. With his host decimated and morale wavering, the last strand of Donagh’s caution snapped. Believing his weight in numbers would see him prevail, the Harrenite lord ordered forth the entirety of his host, over two thousand mounted warriors galloping forth to strike the Knight-Errant’s lines with all their might. The Imperial centre buckled, but maintained its coordination, their polearms holding back the full brunt of the enemy charge, littering the ground with mounds of corpses. Yet despite their losses, the Scrymgeours were fully committed to the battle, determined to break their adversaries no matter the cost. Alas, Sir Lyonel made the final move, his own heavy cavalry charging forth from the reserves. Divided into two formations, their lances emerged from the tree line and smashed the flanks of the Harrenites. Bogged down by the broken ground and compacted like a shoal of sardines, the lightly armed reivers had no room nor time to reform their lines, falling victim to the brutal doctrine of Imperial shock warfare. A thick melee erupted, crushing those unfortunate enough to have been caught in its epicentre. Only a few hundred clansmen were so lucky to escape the whirlpool of terror. Donagh was not amongst them. Confronted by Sir Lyonel himself, the lord of Clan Scrymgeour met his end upon a cold steel edge, the Knight-Errant’s longsword cleaving the reiver’s head clean from his shoulders. Leaderless and utterly defeated, the Harrenites could do nothing more than limp back to their castle, from which Donagh’s household had witnessed his downfall. In the hours that followed, Sir Lyonel’s host pressed onwards to surround the now sparsely defended fortress, over which a flag of parley was raised. The rebellion was at last over. For his prowess in battle and efforts in restoring stability to the province, Sir Lyonel was awarded the former holdings of Clan Scrymgeour, which in due time the populace would dub Lyonesse, in his honour. What remained of the local Harrenites either faded in obscurity or bent the knee to their new liege lord. In time, tales of a knight with the strength of a lion thrice over spread throughout Endaen; a reputation that prompted Lyonel to take the beasts as his personal sigil. A legacy that, alongside his name, would be passed down for generations to come. A Lyonen knight, patrolling the bogland of Endaen; Circa. 1563. A Reflection ~ 20th Century By Arthur Hughes de Lyons; Circa. 1906. In exploring my family history, I have come to realise regrettably that vast swathes of our records remain either incomplete or have vanished entirely. For example, precisely when we departed from the continent of Aeldin remains a matter of debate, and there are no details as to how we found passage to this side of the known world. My hope is that in time, by uncovering additional records, or through the voluntary aid of other Aeldinic bloodlines, I may yet be able to shed more light on those time-lost generations. Regarding my own thoughts on what I have managed to piece together, though it is somewhat sparse on specific details, my ancestor Louis seems to have written a believable account of my family’s foundation and progenitor. It is corroborated by similar records from that period, indicating that a campaign of expansion was indeed being prosecuted by Imperial forces, though to what lengths I cannot be certain. Yet, returning to the topic of our exodus, I will acknowledge that our time as landed lords within the province of Endaen most likely ended in a drawn-out period of violence. Ironically, much like the Scrymgeours before us, House de Lyons challenged the imperial bureaucracy's effectiveness and dared to question the provincial government's fitness. Our honour, desire for autonomy and devotion to chivalry sowed doubts regarding our usefulness to the Empire; a corrupt establishment having little need for those unwilling to be pawns. From my personal experience of the known world, I realise that humanity has on many an occasion fallen victim to vain pride and ambition, with wicked men carving out vast realms at the expense of all moral decency. There will come a time that I am no longer able to guide my household and must leave our family legacy in the hands of the next generation. But it is my earnest hope that those who take up that mantle of responsibility remain true to the chivalrous virtues and knightly valour of our forefathers. The House de Lyons must never again bear steel in the name of an Empire, for the very concept has proven anathema to integrity and self-determination. We must be better and recognise that mankind may yet prosper without being coerced into submission beneath the shadow of a singular oppressive banner. ~CUSTOMS~ The Legacy of Lyonesse By Arthur Hughes de Lyons; Circa. 1906. The House de Lyons has traditionally served as a knightly family, aspiring to maintain chivalrous virtues and honour above all else. Both men and women of our bloodline are expected to achieve, if not strive towards, Knighthood or Damehood so as to ensure our martial origins are not lost to the ages. We have not always succeeded in this endeavour, for many years having faded into obscurity amidst the intrigues of the realm. But alas, titles alone are not a measure of one’s virtue, for it is a purity of the heart that determines whether one is truly worthy. The day a child of Lyonesse has shown that they can bear steel with restraint, they are gifted a weapon of their own. Furthermore, a knight is characterised not only by their strength at arms but also riding into battle on horseback. For when a child of our bloodline is able enough to walk, they may yet be capable of riding and caring for a steed of their own. Throughout the generations, this has instilled a sense of duty and teaches the youth that life must never be taken for granted. All must be capable of doing their part, should they seek to earn anything, respect in particular. With the passage of time, we have also taken to adopting new traditions. My lady wife, Juliana Rosemary of the House of Vernhart, showed me that one may yet wield a pen with as much grace as a sword. To accommodate this worldview, my own children shall receive falcons for the expressed purpose of bearing missives, as part of their tutoring in performing civil matters. With this, I hope they may better serve the realm from a domestic perspective when they come of age. Yet, perhaps our most significant custom is the words of our family: “Do Not Provoke the Lions.” They serve as a warning to those who might seek to take advantage of our hospitality and defile the virtues we hold so dear. There have been many occasions in which a knight of the House de Lyons has taken up steel in defence of our family’s honour, willing to engage in single combat if it means settling a dispute. Trial by such means is a revered custom, for ultimately it is GOD who favours the victor, and so our ultimate fate lies in his blessed hands.

Albert bobbed his head in approval, packing his things so that he might join his countrymen at their new home. "The next chapter. Finally!"

Albert read the declaration with a wince of sorrow. "I hope now that my father, and all those who died in his service, can finally rest. This chapter of our lives has reached its end."

Albert read the dossier with a solemn gaze, his hands trembling as he sat in a cocktail of negative emotions. So many ill-thoughts poured through his mind, yet he fought all the same to keep them restrained. In due course, the boy arose from his desk and grasped his arming sword. Memories of what came before the carnage, of simpler times, are what he clung to for respite in these moments. That, and a bit of late night exercise... "M'lord, where are you going?" A servant asked as the boy trekked down the gloomy hall towards the training yard. Once again, the rattling of steel against a badly battered mannequin would keep the household stirring throughout the night.

o7

Albert Salvian frowned as he read the missive, his fingers scrunching up the edges of the parchment in anger. "A Knight of the Petra... and yet, the massacre at Castle Moere..." The young lord cast it aside, turning towards an open window to gulp the fresh air. "So many innocents dead, and he just walked away. I would like to know why."

Albert Salvian lofted a brow as Sir Emir @exoo handed him the research papers. "I won't pretend to understand your work, Sir... But I believe we ought to set up a honey farm swiftly!"

Albert Salvian exchanged a grateful nod with his uncle @Shmeepicus, watching intently as more refugees travelled through the city gates. "My people and I our grateful for your hospitality, Your Majesty."

He could not muster another word, hand trembling as Constanz made his intentions known to the council. War had descended upon Albert without warning, tearing at the boy's life and destroying all chance he had at a peaceful childhood. And so, in the time it had taken for men to draw their swords, the young lord had taken pen to paper, chastising those he believed had abandoned the Commonwealth. Who left him and his siblings to be preyed upon by the mercenaries and brigands who let Valfleur's streets run red with blood. The temptation... No, the need to do something! Anything in the face of it all! It oft' swept away the juvenile's apprehension, bringing forth on rare occasions the eloquence he had lacked for so many years. But though his heart burned with the fires of his new-found confidence, nothing could replace the childish innocence that had been cast to the void. Men whispered in Albert's ear, telling him what they thought he wanted to hear. He heeded their counsel, but could never truly open himself up in return. The young lord of the Petra was all but alone. He had already lost his Mother... Would he also lose his Father?