Vic

MC Name:

         FenHarel__

 

Character's Name:

         Daerine

 

Character's Age:

         203

 

Character's Race:

         High Elf

 

What magic(s) will you be learning?

         Paladinism

 

Teacher's MC Name:

         Saffryie

 

Teacher's RP Name:

         Yarikh Asul'onn

 

Do you have a magic(s) you are dropping due to this app? If so, link it:

         N/A

 

Do you agree to keep Story updated on the status of your magic app?:

         Yes

 

Are you aware that if this magic is shelved, it will be unavailable to use?

         Yes

MC Name:

         FenHarel__

 

Character's Name:

         Flour

 

Character's Age:

         10

 

Character's Original Race (N/A if not applicable):

         NA

 

Transformed form:

         Musin

 

Creator's MC Name:

         NA

 

Creator's RP Name:

         NA

 

Briefly explain the lore behind this construct or creature:

         

Musin are descended from the runts of the Ratiki race, forced to live as slaves in their mines for years. They are much smaller and weaker than their rat cousins. As their name would imply, they have mouse-like features. Most Musin have black eyes, but they can very rarely be pink or red. Unlike the short lives of Ratiki, a Musin can live to be up to around 70 years old. Their height ranges between 1'8"-2'6". Compared to Ratiki, the Musin have senses which can be utilized above-ground much more easily. Their main setback would be their eyesight. The Musin's eyesight is roughly half as good as a normal descendant on a sunny day due to their time spent underground. Their hearing and dexterity is slightly heightened, but they are quite possibly the weakest race. Any injury a Musin sustains will likely be extremely detrimental if not fatal.

Musin are scavengers at heart, taking whatever they can to cobble together to make trinkets or clothing for themselves. They let nothing go to waste, and could possibly be considered hoarders. At best, a Musin will take from the trash of other races to use but at worst they will attempt to break into others' homes to steal from them. Overall, the Musin tend to live peaceful lives. They are very non-confrontational due to being the complete antithesis of their Ratiki ancestors and will likely flee from any sort of fight.

The Musin came to be through the Runt Revolt with Musin the Brave leading them in the fight against their Ratiki slavers. Almost all who fought against the Ratiki in combat were killed, but the civilians were led to safety while the Ratiki were distracted. These civilians became the first of the Musin race. The labored for years to cobble together boats for their people and eventually they sailed to the land of Almaris. It was there that they met the Giant, a man twice as tall as any Ratiki they had seen. He became a father figure to the Musin and took their village in with open arms.

 

If this construct or creature has some form of aesthetic choice, can you describe how they look? 

Flour is a primarily tawny musin with patches of white across his body. Like most musin, he has beady black eyes and large ears. While a bit shorter as he is still growing, he will eventually stand at 1'8"-- the shortest a musin can be. He has a pink nose and beige snout, long whiskers drooping down. He takes to wearing patchwork cloaks made from old blankets or descendant clothing and has a satchel slung across his body. What one may find inside said satchel is a mystery.

 

Do you have a magic(s) you are dropping due to this app? If so, link it:

         NA

 

Do you agree to keep Story writers updated on the status of your magic app?:

         Yes

 

Are you aware that if this creature is shelved, your character may be given the option to revert or be indefinitely shelved?

         Yes

 

Memey RP or using this CA for subpar villain/bandit RP can lead to your app being denied, even after acceptance. Please put "I understand" as your response once you have read this part and understand the consequences.

         I understand

 

Have you applied for this creature on this character before, and had it denied? If so, link the app:

         NA

Daerine's first thought upon hearing the news of Johanna's passing was that it was simply a cruel rumor. Upon seeking out her old friend, though, she found nothing. She clutched desperately at the ring she wore on a chain, her eyes shut tight. "You can't be gone, not yet," she whispered.

The night after the siege of Karosgrad, Daerine found herself atop Reinmar's keep. The air was frigid, her breath forming clouds in front of her as she gazed out into the rose fields. "We had so much left to do." In the coming days, Daerine began a trek across Almaris. She took to painting different landscapes she felt Johanna would enjoy. When all was said and done, all such paintings were tossed into the hearth of Reinmar's dining hall. "I wish I could have told you everything," her final words to the Duchess were uttered into the fire, smoke curling in her lungs.

---

Juliya Barclay hugged her pseudo-sister in the Seven Skies. "Tell me, Hanna," she gripped Johanna's hand tight. "How is mein bruder?"

one of mine

 

About My Death

 

 

I don’t want to see it coming

like late summer roses waiting to bloom

 

or a highway I remember in Spain,

a giant black cutout bull

 

as a hilltop billboard.

Instead let me be half asleep,

 

the Never and Forever twins,

one in a brown dress, one in blue,

 

steeped in the shadows of my room,

the air replacing my breath

 

with flow and husk, and then the sound.

Let me leave each twin a gift:

 

a milky quartz on the night table,

my worn gold wedding ring.

-About My Death by Jennifer Barber

 

---

 

     Juliya Barclay had much time to ponder her own death leading up to it. She was never truly religious, despite her son’s position as a bishop. In the end, death came to her in a time of peace as if he was an old friend. Perhaps an old friend he was.

 

     Before her death, Juliya sought out her youngest child, Viktor Erwin. He was the one she had spent the most time with, aside from Marcella. He was to be wed within two months, but she was well aware she did not have that time. The private ceremony was a quick affair of little grandeur, but there was always something missing: William Barclay.

 

     The day Juliya met William was unlike any other. She was bored, he was there. It could have stayed as one conversation, but she returned day after day to that spot in the tavern to seek him out. They had fun, they laughed, and then they were wed. When the sixth child was born, William returned to his true home: the sea. He returned to take their eldest child, Marcella, on voyages.

 

     In the end, Juliya saw her youngest be wed, but she never saw her love again. But she did die happy, surrounded by family. What more could a mother ask for?

 

---

 

 

Letters to some of the children of Juliya & William Barclay

 

Marcella:

 

 

Wilhelm:
 

Viktor:

 

 

Alexandra:

 

 

Juliya Charlotte Barclay

1852-1899

IGN: FenHarel__

 

Discord Tag: Vic#9617

 

Time zone (optional, this is just to help with class scheduling): PDT/PST

RP Name (Parent/Guardian): Juliya Barclay

 

RP Name (Student): Viktor Erwin Barclay

Age: 12

MC Name:

         FenHarel__

 

Character's Name:

         Daerine

 

Character's Age:

         191

 

What feat(s) will you be learning?

         Sintel's Smoggers

 

Teacher's MC Name:

         Valannor

 

Teacher's RP Name:

         Alatariel

 

Do you agree to keep Story updated on the status of your feat app?:

         Yes

 

Have you applied for this feat on this character before, and had it denied? If so, link the app:

         N/A

 

Are you aware that if this feat is undergoing an activity trial and fails said trial, that you will lose the feat? And that if it is apart of the Lore Games, it might drastically change soon?:

         Yes

 

 

beep boop

Isolde Barclay, upon finally finding her father, would wrap her arms around him. "Come, mutter ist waiting!"

N O N E  D O  S L A C K E N

N O N E  C A N  D I E

 

CW: Mentions of suicide and depression.

 

“My face in thine eye, thine in mine appears,

And true plain hearts do in the faces rest;

Where can we find two better hemispheres,

Without sharp north, without declining west?

Whatever dies, was not mixed equally;

If our two loves be one, or, thou and I

Love so alike, that none do slacken, none can die.”

-The Good-Morrow by John Donne

The Beginning.

♫♫♫

 

    The click click click of small heels on cobblestone alerted Erich of his twin’s fast approach, yet he made no move. He was crouched above the streets of Karosgrad on the roof of the Barclay Bargains shop with a wet towel in hand. Once Isolde had stopped just beneath Erich’s perch, the boy smirked to himself. This will be fun, he thought. And he was right. In an instant, the wet towel nailed his sister directly between the eyes. Bulls-eye! Unfortunately for Erich, though, Isolde was not going to simply take the prank.

 

    “VATER! MUTTER!” She screamed at the top of her lungs. She continued to scream until she had made it all the way back to Reinmar, where she curled up in her mother’s arms and cried over how awful her brother could be. Erich was on potato duty that evening.

 

 

----

 

    Ingrid Barclay was a woman with many medical issues. Having her first child, Emelia, had taken quite a toll on the woman. But, still, she pushed through and gave birth to not one but two healthy children. A girl first and then a boy. The Baron of Sigradz had been born. The first child was named Isolde Klara and the second was named Erich Erwin. Perhaps in their youth, Isolde held some resentment towards her brother, but time would tell how wrong she would be. While Erich was the spitting image of his father, Isolde showed more traits from her mother as she grew up. She had a red tinge to the normal Barclay blonde, for example. However, they both took after their aunt, Marcella, in their personalities.

 

    Isolde Klara always wanted to be like her aunt Marcella.

 

    That is why it hurt so much for the girl when Marcella turned her away the night of her death. Marcie was the woman Isolde looked up to and the only person who she felt as though she could speak to following Koenas Mariya’s death. There were some nights Isolde laid awake, even as she herself felt her body failing, thinking about how she could have stopped her aunt from committing suicide had she pushed to stay with her.

 

Isolde Barclay, painted in the year 1819 (Age 15) (x)

♫♫♫

 

    Isolde Klara Barclay. She never felt like her name suited her. Her surname did, that was for sure, but Isolde Klara? As she grew up, she’d note that the femininity of the names never felt right. She took after her adoptive sister, Mariya, in how she enjoyed a good fight or hunt more than a tea party or ball. She caught herself in her teenage years feeling jealous of her twin. Erich Erwin had the title of Duke awaiting him. Isolde Klara felt as though her only future was an unhappy marriage.

 

    There was a boy. Yes, a boy. He was a boy with bright blond hair and eyes the color of the leaves in the spring. He was a beautiful boy, and from the moment Isolde set her eyes upon him, she knew he would be important to her. And so, in the typical fashion of a girl raised by the combined forces of her parents and HRA officers, she broke a bottle of Carrion Black over his head at the age of five. From that moment she had decided that if she was able, she would marry that boy. Unfortunately, another had captured his heart in a matter of years.

 

    When Isolde received the invitation to the wedding of The Right Honorable, Countess Halstaig, Lady Iduna O’Rourke and Elias Asul’onn, her heart sank in her chest. She knew it was coming, but she never wanted to believe it. She did not attend. Instead, she turned her attention to a man by the name of Aleksandr. He was not Elias, but he was nice. Wasn’t he?

 

    Aleksandr surprised her, in a way. She had refused to speak most of her life and her elder sister was the rose. If Emilia was the rose, Isolde was the dandelion. She was constantly getting into fights which her father, being the Lord Marshal, had to get her out of. She laughed with him, yes. They had fun, yes. She told him she loved him, yes. But, she never felt anything. She saw what she had with him as a means to an end. She saw him and wished he was another. He was a way for her to do her duty to her family. She always wanted to have children, after all, and he wanted daughters. It was the perfect arrangement, until it wasn’t.

 

    She also used it as a way to get her father’s attention. She found it increasingly hard to get through to him the older she got. Maybe it was the war.

 

    She tried growing out her shaved hair. He looked at it and frowned.

 

    When neither the courting nor the hair worked, she tried to wear the fancy dresses her mother always bought for her. That only made her father frown quietly once again.

 

    Then, the girl cut her hair short and snuck off for a time. He didn’t even notice, aside from the choppiness of her hair.

 

    One day, her brother presented her with a way out of her courtship. She took it, but she didn’t know what it would mean for her. Would she possibly be more unhappy? Her father and mother always told her they only cared about her happiness. When they asked her what would make her well and truly happy when the new deal was proposed, she stated she wanted what her Great Aunt Luisa had. She wanted to stay a Barclay until the end of her days. Marcella had done it, however awful her end may have been, and Isolde Klara always wanted to be like her Aunt Marcella.

 

    Fortunately for her, the deal did not work out. She was unhappy, of course. He had ended the courtship right when she had begun to think she could love him, after all. In the end, though, it was for the best. She took to the roads, as her Aunt had before her, and found herself at the gates of Elysium not long after her cousin, Marie Vyronov, had died. Her friends, Amicia and Christopher de Astrea, welcomed her with open arms and gave her a room to stay in. This is where she stayed until her accident.

 

----

 

    Ich have to go, Ich have to get out of here, Isolde’s thoughts were screaming. It’s too much, the walls are too close! Her breathing was ragged as she packed her things and abandoned the small room her friends had given her. She pulled her pack onto her back, strapped her weapons to her belt, and left the city without so much as trying to find them to say goodbye. They would understand, wouldn’t they? Vater had understood when she left. Erich had asked her to stay, but ultimately he understood.

 

    Isolde stopped in her tracks. “What ist Erich doing now..?” The woman’s breath was visible in the frigid air of the north, and her words were scattered to the wind with it. She thought no one had heard. She was far from the gates at that point.

 

    Oh, how wrong she had been.

 

    A growl came from a nearby cave. With only a glance, Isolde could see the mother bear and her cub behind her. In her moment of shock, she couldn’t get herself to move out of the way in time to avoid that first fateful swipe. That was how Isolde Klara lost her eye.

 

♫♫♫

 

    Isolde’s wrinkled and scarred face broke out into a grin when she saw her home steadily approaching. Reinmar. Inside, she knew her family awaited her. She couldn’t wait to see her father, her mother, her brother. She urged her horse to go faster, making her way to the gates in a matter of minutes. Dismounting, Isolde withdrew an old and rusting key from her pocket. When she slotted it into the keyhole of the door, she was surprised to find it still worked. Bruder must have kept his promise to nicht change the locks, she thought. Her happiness only grew.

 

    After leaving Orion at the stables to be tended to, Isolde practically ran towards the main doors of the keep. She pushed them open with ease and continued on towards the dining hall. “Erich! Erich, ich am h—” her voice cut off suddenly when she saw only her father, alone, at a table. He was well in his nineties by now and. . . He fainted.

 

    In the hours to come, Isolde Klara learned that Erich Erwin had passed away not long after his last child was born. He had the shortest tenure of any Duke of Reinmar. Erich — her best friend —  had needed her, and she hadn’t been there to help him.

 

    That night, Isolde sobbed for the first time in years.

 

----

 

    Yellow roses were Isolde Klara’s favorite. The older she got, the more she realized how little she had cared for her friendships in her adolescence. A yellow rose was one of the only roses that had no romantic meaning attached to it. To give someone a yellow rose was to show how much you appreciate their friendship.

 

    Isolde Klara left her family for forty years without so much as a word about where she had been. When she returned, though, her father welcomed her back with open arms. He was close to his end at that point but he was happy to finally have one of his children home. 

 

    The rose fields of Reinmar were brought back by Reinhardt Barclay, but Friedrich cultivated the red roses on the rooftop while Isolde Klara cultivated the yellow roses in the far corner of the field; both in Marcella Barclay’s honor. They both still missed her dearly.

 

    Isolde found Elias again, after uncovering an old wedding invitation he had sent to Reinmar. His second wife, Matilda, sounded lovely. She was gone all too soon. After Matilda had died, though. . . Isolde finally allowed herself to attempt to love someone. She knew he would never love her back, she knew he was grieving, she knew it wasn’t real. But don’t we all just wish to be loved at some point in our lives, regardless of if it is real or fake? That is what she told herself, anyway.

 

    She never expected to live her life on the roads, nor did she expect to keep her last name. However, she wouldn’t have had it any other way. Despite the loss of an eye and a limp caused by a bear on her travels, she was truly happy. She never became a pawn, never had to force herself to be a lady of the courts, and she was able to be who she wanted.

 

    The only regret she ever had was that she was never able to name her daughter Marcella.

 

 

The End.

 

♫♫♫

 

 

    It was an ordinary day. The sun shone over Reinmar, Rozenfeld, and the lands beyond as an elderly woman took her final steps down the stairs of her family’s keep. There was a promise on her lips, a final one she would fail to fulfill. In the days leading up to her death, Isolde Klara had cut her hair short and taken all of her meals in her room. The only person she allowed to enter was her father, Friedrich. He was on the verge of death himself, but he did not have his wife’s illness which had plagued Isolde most of her life. There were few moments she wasn’t haunted by her own coughing fits tainted with the blood which filled her lungs. She knew her time was up, no matter how many times she swore her father would not bury another child of his. Isolde Klara was a stubborn child who grew into an even more stubborn woman.

 

    There were many regrets on her mind as she walked out towards the rose fields. She regretted how she treated Alexsandr first. He never deserved such cruelty. She regretted how she was never truly honest with Elias second. She never said she loved him. Third, she regretted never seeing her brother again after she left. She hadn’t even known of his death. The fourth regret was realized as she reached the roses, her eyes trailing over the patch of the now brown and dying yellow roses. She never had children, a family. She didn’t have friends. She was alone in her final days, moments, months. Even Elias had left her eventually. All she had was her senile father who couldn’t stand without a cane.

 

    She was only ever honest with one person, who stood before her then. Once a friend, now a stranger.

 

    Isolde nearly fell to her knees in front of them, tears slipping down her cheeks like the rivers they used to visit when they were young. The stranger held her up with a single, strong arm and led her to the nearby table. They both knew this would be Isolde’s final moments.

 

    “I’m dying,” the elderly woman muttered, the wrinkles covering her face only accentuated by the dark shadows beneath her eyes.

 

    The stranger only nodded and took her hand in theirs.

 

    “Ich am glad you came—” her words cut off with a cough. The blood spilled onto the green and blue tablecloth, like a stain which would never come out. When she recovered, she continued. “Ich want to tell you everything. Ich cannot die with so many regrets, liebsten.”

 

    “Tell me. Tell me everything, and I will listen,” the stranger’s voice was soft, friendly. Comforting.

 

    So, Isolde told them everything. Every little regret, secret, and haunting moment. She spoke until her voice was failing her and she had little strength left in her body. The stranger never spoke, but they listened. They helped her stay upright when her body continued to fail her, and when she finished, they finally nodded.

 

    Then, they spoke the final words Isolde Klara heard.

 

    “I knew all of this and never said a word. It was never my place to tell you how to live yours,” they lifted a hand to hold Isolde’s cheek even as her tears continued to fall. “You deserve all the love in the world, and you will continue to deserve it when you are gone. All I ever wished was for you to be happy, especially when both of us were unable to be. I hope that in the Seven Skies you will find the happiness you sought— for both of us. Say hello to my family and yours for me, it will be some time yet before I can do so myself.” When Isolde’s eyes finally began to shut, the stranger quickly added their last words to their friend; “We will be fine, it is your time to rest.”

 

    So, Isolde Klara finally allowed herself to rest.

 

    When she opened her eyes next, she saw her brother’s grinning face.

 

    “About time, schwester!”

    The body of Isolde Klara Barclay was found right outside of the gates of Reinmar, wrapped in a thin linen blanket. When her rooms were finally cleaned and cleared, a letter addressed to her immediate relatives was found— with a second letter enclosed for just Friedrich..

 

“My dearest family,

 

    I regret to inform you that I have finally passed on to the Seven Skies, as you likely have already realized. I have little else to say to anyone aside from my great niece and father, so please deliver this letter accordingly.

 

    First, to my niece, Johanna. I wish I could have known you, your father, and your siblings better. You and Friedrich were all I had left, yet I hid myself away. For all of this, I am truly sorry. With my death, I am passing to you the living doll my own great aunt made for my father, which was passed to me. I hope you will consider giving Ser Adder to one of your children, as I never had any of my own. Unfortunately, he is my only possession of value I can pass on. Enjoy your life to the fullest, Liebelin.

 

    Second, to my father, Friedrich. I know what I promised you, and I wish I could have kept it. I’ve said everything else I ever needed to tell you long ago, so please do me a final favor. I left a letter for Elias with this one. Make sure he gets it? See you soon, vater.

 

With love, always,

Isolde Klara Barclay”

 

Isolde Barclay, painted in the year 1885 (Age 81)

1804 - 1889

 

 

the forums are so slow

 

https://www.lordofthecraft.net/forums/topic/214612-alchemy-ta-fenharel__/?do=findComment&comment=1926464

 

 

Rhaelle is beginning to regret an incident with the Pontiff the day prior to his accident...

This is mine

MC Name:

         FenHarel__

 

Character's Name:

         Daerine

 

Character's Age:

         181

 

Character's Race:

         High Elf

 

Link to your accepted MA:

        https://www.lordofthecraft.net/forums/topic/210989-alchemy-fa-fenharel__/?tab=comments#comment-1902308

 

What magic(s) will you be teaching?

         Alchemy

 

Describe this magic or a creature as a whole:

         

Alchemy is the study and utilization of mundane matter of the material world. It can also be described as 'science', as it incorporates many forms of experimentation, studying, and years of work to understand just how the world around us works—and how we can replicate certain occurrences. Some regard alchemy as a natural philosophy and seek enlightenment through the concoctions they may learn to create, while others consider the craft as a money-making tool. In either instance, the alchemist is creating potions using signs and symbols found in the natural world with effects that are exceptionally unnatural.

 

 

Are there different sections or subsections of magic? Can those be elaborated upon?

         

Alchemy has three primary components to it.

 

-Signs & Symbols

The first thing most budding alchemists learn is the Material Alphabet—a series of runes of mysterious origin. Alchemists, blood mages, runesmiths, and golemancers have all found different uses for the Material Alphabet. An Alchemist uses the runes of the Material Alphabet to identify what element a reagent corresponds to and its properties within said element. The element is referred to as the Sign and the properties are referred to as the Symbols. Each reagent typically has more than one symbol which can be used once it is sufficiently processed.

 

-Reagents & Processing

To be able to utilize the Material Alphabet, the alchemist must learn how to extract signs and symbols from a reagent. Depending on the reagent's sign, the extraction process may differ. The most common method, also known as the mundane method, is the Aether method. The other methods are the Fire Method which is used for Fire prefixes, the Earth Method for the Earth prefixes, the Water Method for Water prefixes, and the Air Method for Air prefixes.

 

-Potioncraft

When an alchemist has extracted signs and symbols from their reagents, they are now able to combine them through differing methods to create potions, which are the unnatural concoctions the alchemist has sought to create and utilize for their benefit.

 

 

Can you give an example of a casting emote, of a spell of your choice?

         

 

Example: Mundane Extraction

 

[!] Within the confines of Reinmar's apothecary, Daerine placed a basket of blissfoil in front of her on the counter. She slipped a pair of gloves over her hands in two swift motions before picking up one of the flowers. She plucked the petals delicately from the stems one at a time as to not harm them. Once the stem was free of all the petals, she discarded it off to the other side of the counter. She took a knife in hand and began to shred the petals.

 

[!] Once the petals had been sufficiently shredded, the elfess moved the shredded petals into the nearby mortar. With swift movements, she took up the pestle and began to ground the shredded petals down. With the petals sufficiently reduced to a powder, she poured a generous amount of Aqua Vitae into the bowl. It sat like that until the ground up petals were effectively saturated.

 

Daerine poured the saturated petals through a loosely-woven fabric many a time until it was properly strained. After such, she went through many hours of boiling until, finally, sat at the bottom of her pot was a fine powder of the isolated symbols.

 

 

Can you give an example of a teaching-emote (interacting with another) of a spell of your choice?

         

Example: Luminosity Potion

 

Daerine placed three vials in front of her student, each filled with a different symbol. She placed a finger atop the first one. "This is one measure of the Light symbol," she said before she moved her finger to the second vial. "One measure of the Endurance symbol." The finger moved to the third and final vial. "And, one measure of the Swiftness symbol. Today, we will be creating Liquid Light."

 

The student bobbed their head in understanding as the brought forth a pot of distilled water. At Daerine's cue, they placed it upon the stove-top and lit the fire beneath it.

 

Daerine moved forward, offering up the vial of the Light symbol to the student. Once they took it, she'd grab a mixing rod off of the counter behind her. "Wait until the water is boiling, and then add the first symbol. I want you to stir the mixture until the powder has completely dissolved, then repeat with the next symbol. This is an extremely simple potion, so you should have to try very hard to mess it up."

 

The student appeared less than comforted by that notion, but with a deep swallow they turned their attention back to the water. In time, it came to a proper boil and they were pouring the symbol in. When Daerine offered up the stirring rod, they took it and followed her instructions.

 

[!] Once the first symbol was dissolved, Daerine offered up the second, Endurance. She reiterated her first instruction of allowing for it to dissolve, and once it had she handed off the final Swiftness symbol.

 

The student glanced up to their teacher after the final symbol was fully dissolved. "I-is it done?"

 

Daerine nodded faintly. "Ti. Now, pour your potion into a bottle. If you ever wish for a light source, simply shake it and admire your work! Good job, dear."

 

 

 

Say your student powergames during or after teaching, how do you reprimand that?

         

My first course of action would be to go over the lore with the student to see if there was a possible misunderstanding with what was written. If it is a genuine mistake, I likely would just ask them to read the lore more carefully before they use a potion in the future. If it is a repeating offense, or something such as blatantly misusing a potion, I would likely feel the need to pass on the relevant information to the Story Team and drop the student.

 

 

Do you have a magic(s) you are dropping due to this app? If so, link it:

         N/A

 

Do you agree to keep the ST updated on the status of your magic app?:

         Yes.

 

Have you applied to teach this magic on this character before, and had it denied? If so, link the app.

         N/A

Discord: Vic#9617
Bid: 5

Skin Name: Daughter

From within Anna's own home in Karosgrad, 1solde Barclay grasped the letter informing her of her sister's death tight in her palm. Their final conversation had left her feeling lighter, but still wholly unsatisfied. She had made a promise to never mourn Mariya again, but perhaps it was alright to mourn the woman she had become. The elderly Barclay blinked back tears threatening to fall from her singular eye and made her way down to the bedroom she had been staying in for the time being. In time, she would come to accept that the woman she had come to love as a sister would never speak to her again. "Ich will love you und care for you forever, schwester. No matter who you became or where you will end up."

---

A paladin long since passed poured out a drink in honor of her dear friend and lari'onn. In due time she would attempt to contact Anna in the seven skies, laws of Xan's Realm be damned.

Juliya Barclay clutched her letter close to her chest as she retreated to her room. Despite her previous hushed concerns for her cousin's whereabouts, she never truly thought he could die. There upon a cold mattress in Reinmar, the young woman allowed herself to cry until she fell asleep. In the morning, her tears would try and she would join the search party to retrieve the Baron's body. Tonight, she would mourn.

MC Name:

         FenHarel__

 

Character's Name:

         Daerine

 

Character's Age:

         165

 

What feat(s) will you be learning?

         Alchemy

 

Teacher's MC Name:

         Valannor

 

Teacher's RP Name:

         Tarathiel

 

Do you agree to keep Story updated on the status of your feat app?:

         Yes

 

Have you applied for this feat on this character before, and had it denied? If so, link the app:

         N/A

 

Are you aware that if this feat is undergoing an activity trial and fails said trial, that you will lose the feat? And that if it is apart of the Lore Games, it might drastically change soon?:

         Yes

 

MC Name:

         FenHarel__

 

Character's Name:

         Daerine

 

Character's Age:

         163

 

Character's Race:

         High Elf

 

What magic(s) will you be learning?

         Housemagery

 

Teacher's MC Name:

         https://imgur.com/a/k3ZXblb

 

Teacher's RP Name:

         N/A, self-teach

 

Do you have a magic(s) you are dropping due to this app? If so, link it:

         N/A

 

Do you agree to keep Story updated on the status of your magic app?:

         Yes

 

Are you aware that if this magic is shelved, that you may no longer use it in character?

         Yes

A relatively young elfess lost to the cold hands of death many years before felt the soft tug of sorrow at Verendus' death.

 

She longed to bring the girl into her arms, tell her everything would be okay.

 

But she could not, for her soul was forever bound.

 

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have ever lied to you, child. I hope you can find some way to forgive me."

 

Another was gone much too soon. An innocent girl who used to smile so wide when she was a child you could see every tooth she was missing. 

 

"It wasn't your time to go. He needed you."

Judgement; Reversed

 

OOC: The following is a mix of my character’s memoirs meant to be published after her death and memories from her life. Do not metagame the contents of the memories. The memoirs are able to be read by members of the Paladin Order and the Asul’onn Family.

 

[!] A stack of journals would be sent to one Yarikh Asul’onn with a short note attached: “If I am killed or go missing, let our family and the order read these. I trust you, sister. -Revas Asul’onn”

 

[!] A stack of letters would be left to Elren Asul’onn to be sent out upon Revas’ death.

-=-

 

Table of Contents:

1. The Gathering Storm

2. Isolation.

a. Memoir #1: Beginnings

b. Memory #1

c. Memoir #6: Adelith

d. Memory #2

3. Self-Doubt.

a. Memoir #3: Amthalion

b. Memory #3

c. Memoir #2: Tarathiel; Elren

d. Memory #4

4. Pride.

a. Memoir #4: Canonism

b. Memory #5

c. Memoir #7: Friends

d. Memory #6

5. Fire.

a. Memoir #5: Koenas Mariya

b. Memory #7

6. The Storm’s End

7. Letters

8. OOC

 

The Gathering Storm

 

"Though my soul may be set in darkness, it will rise in perfect light; I have loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night."

 

Revas Asul’onn was always a reckless woman. Lately, her head had never ceased running at a mile a minute. The only time it seemed to stop and allow her to simply be was when she found herself in a dangerous situation.

 

This led to many moments throughout her life that could have and should have been avoided.

 

The first was when she, at twelve years old, purposefully sought out bandits and other dangerous people on the roads. Her mother was none too pleased, and made her start taking a bodyguard.

 

Another time, she found herself right in front of a rock troll. And, in possibly one of her least thought through plans, she threw a bottle of alchemist’s fire at it. That only pissed it off.

 

The final time Revas Asul’onn sought out danger was a quiet night. There were no clouds in the sky as she set out into the wilderness near the small farming village of Veritas. It was just her, the various weapons on her person, and the sounds of the different animals. She had left a stack of journals and letters on her husband’s bedside table, just in case. The letters and memoirs had been written long ago.

 

Revas Asul’onn was reckless, yes, but she was not completely idiotic. She knew the risks she threw herself into.

 

 

Isolation.

♫♫♫

 

Revas Minaeve Barrow-Ambrose. That is my birth name, or at least what I believe it to be. My earliest memory for many years was waking up on a beach, ocean waves lapping at my feet as I called out for my parents - two men. No replies came to my calls. I bled profusely from my head, but I was only five. I gathered a few of my belongings and started down the road. I came upon the Village of Siramenor and slipped through a gap in their wall. 

 

No one questioned where I'd come from, but one woman did treat my head injury. It wasn't until I stated that I needed somewhere to sleep that someone took interest in me. A man named Anessan, I believe. He placed me with a stranger, said he would be my 'guardian'. I didn't like this new man. 

 

At this point, I couldn't hardly read nor write but I could practice my combat abilities. I picked up a stick and bound toward the nearest group of people - straight towards a tall man with long, black hair who wore a crown. My guardian yelled for me to come back, but I cared little for what he had to say. I began my assault on the Sea Prince with my stick which I saw as a mighty broadsword. The man bellowed a big, haughty laugh.

 

"My assassins keep getting younger," he'd said through the laughter as he picked me up and placed me upon his wife's shoulders. My guardian ran up to us, a glare set on his brow. He apologized for my behavior, but the Prince didn't mind one bit. Eventually, I was placed down and a high elven woman offered me a dagger. 

 

Tick. Tick. Tick. As I stared at the outstretched hand, I couldn't ignore the sound that came from her. It filled my ears and seemed to beat in time with my very own heart - but it was comforting. I took the dagger from her with a wide grin and opened my mouth to speak. I was cut off by my guardian as he tried to take my dagger, but I moved it out of the way. He said how he should strike me down where I stood for my behavior. At the moment, I decided I would not stay in this village long at all.

 

[!] End of Memoir One.

 

-=-

 

 

She ran from the village of Siramenor. She ran as far as her small legs could carry her. She knew she could not go back, not while she was so small. Instead of living among her kin, Revas had somehow ended up in Helena - the capital city of the Orenian Empire on Arcas. That is where she stayed, alone, for years. Even Astrid hadn't given the girl a place to stay.

 

-=-

 

♫♫♫

 

Seven days. Seven long, sleepless nights I waited up for Adelith. My sons, Christopher and Elias, were just as worried but I refused to let them stay up with me. When Addie had said earlier that month that she was being watched, I'd wanted to tell her to stop being silly. But I knew she was right. I saw the men staring at the manor and the people stealing glares our way. Sometimes I resented the stupid noble title Tara was given. I blamed it for Addie's paranoia.. but her paranoia was justified. There were wolves in sheep's clothing everywhere, but I knew I was safe with Adelith. She was my big sister, she'd never let them harm me.

 

But she was gone. Her headless corpse was at my feet later the seventh day.

 

"We should move it," I'd said to Thalion. Despite everything he had said and done to my friends, he was the one who offered a shoulder just after Addie's death. My friend had not. We moved her into her bedroom and I barricaded the door. Oddwig was left to me, and I gave that pup all the love I could give. He was my companion and my closest confidant. He was there when I sabotaged my own happiness, after all.

 

[!] End of Memoir Six.

 

-=-

 

"I'd rather be dead than left broken," Luxiana Uradir had spoken these words with a quivering lip. Revas had broken her, but she did it to protect them both- right? "Ti, that will be my last thought." Luxi turned her back on Revas as she uttered out a final sentence to her now ex-lover; "I loved those memories." 

 

Revas had waited for Luxiana to leave the room before she allowed herself to even move. Oddwig, the late Adelith's warhound, whined at the woman's feet anxiously. The woman crumpled to the floor slowly, a sob rattling deep in her chest. She curled herself into a tight ball with only her face showing out as tears finally flowed freely. She had done what she needed to protect the love of her life.

 

 

Self-Doubt.

♫♫♫

Amthalion. That is a name hated amongst my eldest friends… And yet I’ve always found it hard to dislike him truly. As I write this, I realize how much I’ve always wanted to say to him. I know I never can, as he’s likely long dead by the time this is published. When I was younger, I would have said how I hoped he could make it to his fiftieth birthday and how he needed to stop cutting out the people who truly cared for him. If he wanted to be a rat, he’d end up in the gutter. But, in all honesty, my opinions have changed since then. In a way, I still pity him but it’s different. I pity that his mother never cared to raise him correctly, that he felt like he needed to reject Tara’s love in some fucked up loyalty to Vyasaldris.

 

I’ve not always been an open book, but the one thing those who knew me when I was twelve to thirteen could easily tell was that I was head over heels for Amthalion Elyra. When he said jump, I’d ask how high. The power he had over me was… More intoxicating than the nights we shared a bottle. I never stood between him and the woman he loved despite my feelings, and although he may wish he’d never married her I am glad I stood aside. I never wanted to be the second choice.

 

“Maybe, if things fall through with her…” Those words broke me even though they were his attempt to console me.

 

Amthalion made me feel like a normal child, but in the end he did hurt me. We got over it, yes, but the words he said to me which he seemingly forgot will always be engraved in my mind. I was always his second choice.

 

Until I wasn’t. And then he killed himself.

 

[!] End of Memoir Three.

 

-=-

 

The fire crackled in front of Revas and Amthalion as they sat in the restricted section of the library. The two did this often, her being thirteen and him fifteen. Revas had very few friends her own age and Thalion had always made her feel welcome. The two discussed Revas’ feelings toward a boy in her past, how they felt about Yarikh, and they touched a bit on the girl known as Ophelia.

Amthalion and Revas spoke for hours before he brought out his stash of ponderlot. The two had done this once before. It had ended badly, but they were bored teens. It also made their games of asking questions much more fun.

 

“What’s your favorite color?” Amthalion asked Revas after a bit of back and forth.

 

Gold. “Blue, you?”

 

“Why?”

“Because… I like the ocean and the sky. Gold is quite nice too.”

 

“And why gold?”

Your eyes. I love your eyes. “A lot of my favorite things are gold. Well, I started to like it 'cause of Yari's magic things, right? But, I've noticed a lotta nice things are gold. Not like expensive things, but pretty things.” Revas pointed to his eyes. “Gold.”

 

“Ti, that's why we're the lions. Though my title is The Flood, ti?”

 

“It is?” Revas tilted her head. “I didn’t know that. But, anyway, you didn’t tell me your favorite color.”

 

“My favorite color is blue.” He said with a laugh.

 

Because it’s my favorite? “Why?”

 

“Because of my Title. Everything I do is like.. Ocean themed, ti? As for my second? I don't really have a second. But gold I guess, since my tattoos are going to be that color.”

 

“Now you’re just a copycat!”

 

Amthalion reached forward, poking Revas’ forehead. It sent a jolt through her body, reminding her of the day before. The day before, when he had run a finger over the tattoo lines on her face. She flinched back. “What was that for?!”

 

“I distracted you!” His classic smirk was back. “But, you never told me who likes me.”

 

“You gotta guess.”

 

“Well… I don’t know, I guess Ophelia.”

 

“Other than her!”

 

“Er.. Anna?”

 

“Nay! You’re hopeless.”

 

“And high. Just tell me.”

 

“I suppose… That I like you, Thal.”

 

“Oh. You like me?”

“Yarikh said I shouldn’t.”

“I'm sorry you like me or whatever, I guess..”

 

“Why are you apologizing?”

“Because I’m with her.”

“Aye, but you shouldn’t be apologizing.”

 

“Eh. Maybe, if things fall through with Ophelia, until then we're just friends, ti?”

 

Always the second choice.

 

-=-

 

♫♫♫

 

    When I was twelve years old, I came to New Reza. I had only a stick and a small bag of my belongings. I marched straight into the tavern and shoved the stick onto the counter. “Gimme somethin’ alcoholic, Miss!” I’d said to the barmaid - Tarathiel. Sat down beside me was a fourteen year old elven boy - Amthalion. He gave me an odd look, but didn't say much. Tara, on the other hand, broke into a smile that rivaled the sun in its brightness.

 

"Oem'ii, you're much too young! But, here, some tea on the house." With a flick of her wrist, she had brought a tea cup to rest before me as golden threads weaved over her arms. A housemage.

 

I'd never cared much for tea, but I was so amazed by this woman's use of magic that I took the tea anyway. She fascinated me, and eventually this woman would become the person I trusted most in the world. She asked me where my parents were and I told her I didn't know. Hadn't known for a long time. I suppose it was a half truth. I knew where Xanthus, my legal guardian, was. I wanted to stay away from him after all. Despite the fact that I was a grimey child who talked funny with a scar over the top of my head she took me in. She also took in Yarikh, my eldest sister. Like me, she is missing most of her memories from before waking up.

 

Together, the three of us made new memories. And then I was offered the Elyris name.

 

Tarathiel, at the time, was an Elyra. A relative of Vyasaldris Elyra. Vya and Tara didn't get along for a multitude of reasons, most of which would take too long to explain. To put it simply, Tara believed - and still believes to my knowledge - that Vyasaldris was a bad mother to her children. She isn’t entirely wrong, as I’ll go over in my next ‘chapter’, but Vya never seemed to care for being called out.

 

Tarathiel truly wanted me as her daughter, but I was unsure. I had only lived with people who either hurt or used me and I never wanted to feel so helpless ever again… But Thalion convinced me to give it a shot. So I did. I will never regret that decision, no matter what happens to me. The Elyris name was special to me at the time. It represented being a part of an actual family. But, as most good things often do, it came to an abrupt end. Myself and Tarathiel were disowned by Vyasaldris and so we created House Asul’onn - the infamous ex-Barony.

 

So many good things came from our new family. Despite all of the criticism we endured and the disaster that was Haenseni Nobility, we were happy. I worked hard in the clinic, staying beside Aestenia and Katerina as long as I was able. I became a competent alchemist to be more useful to them.

 

And then I met Elren.

 

He was another ‘aheral seeking refuge from Haelun’or at the time, not unlike Aestenia. He wished to learn medicine under me, and I was happy to oblige. I had never had a proper apprentice before. At first, I thought he was a bit simple-minded. He puked on my medical equipment the first time he saw a dead body in the morgue. He grew on me, though. With each passing day we spent working side by side, a bond formed. And then, he asked me on a picnic.

 

I said yes. And years later, when I asked him to marry me, he said yes as well.

 

Vivienne is our pride and joy. She is perhaps one of the three people I could ever love more in this world than Elren. Children have a special place in your heart.

 

[!] End of Memoir Two.

 

-=-

 

Luxiana Uradir.

 

Luxiana.

 

Luxi.

 

“Please, call me Luxi!” Those few words, however meaningless they seemed, made Revas’ stomach do a flip. Butterflies she’d never known existed tried to escape, flapping up her throat and coming out in stutters and flushed cheeks.

 

“Revas,” She’d said as she reached out to shake Luxi’s hand. “I-I mean.. Call me Revas. That’s my name.” A giggle escaped her mouth - another butterfly escaping.

 

‘She’s pretty. Why do I think she’s so pretty?’

 

Later that day, Revas sat upon her bed staring down at her sketchbook. She’d drawn that woman’s face. It was so engraved in her brain, she couldn’t shake how… How this woman alone had made her feel like a child. In a good way, though, not like how she felt when Tara scolded her. A child who was discovering what a crush was for the first time.

 

Blond hair. Golden eyes.

 

Golden eyes.

 

She flipped back to the sketches of Amthalion. Then, she flipped forward to Luxiana. Golden eyes. She’d always loved the color gold.

 

Within the year, the two were together. They were nearly inseparable. ‘They’re just best friends’ Tara had assured people. Friedrich knew. Marcella knew. Stefan knew. Teni knew. They all kept it to themselves, watching the two girls fumble through love. They watched the two girls grow together and tear each other apart in the end.

 

Revas never forgave Heinrik for giving her mother nobility. She ripped Luxiana’s heart out to save face for her mother. Then he took the title away.

 

Oddwig slept beside Revas every night, his coat soaked in her tears.

 

‘I hope I’m not her second choice.’

 

 

Pride.

♫♫♫

Canonism. 

   

    I’ve never really gone to church on a regular basis. I put all of my faith in Godan, yes, and I pray to him every day. Church, though, has never been my thing. At least, not since a priest tried to wash the tattoos off of my face with holy water. Tara stopped them, but it was still a terrifying experience for a child. Despite these events, I still brought the twins up to be good canonists. Even when I was told that the Creator was dead, I continued to worship. It changes nothing to me whether or not He is dead - He still created us all. Maybe not directly. Maybe it was all accidental. But, it was still Him.

   

    I could not be the person I am today without my faith. It drives me forward, keeps me from going insane, and gives me reassurance that I will be reunited with those that have passed someday. I know I will see Adelith again, as well as my birth parents. They are all waiting for me. If I didn’t believe it would be much scarier. The greatest grief of all is to be left in this world when another is gone… If you have faith you will see them again, it ebbs the pain. Don’t you think?

 

    I never cared for painkillers either. I used them, of course, but it is important to have pain tolerance. Perhaps Canonism is my spiritual painkiller. Perhaps the afterlife is not the Seven Skies at all and I will never see them again. But, keeping my faith keeps me going as I said. So I will continue until I take my final breath. Once that final breath has left my lips, I will know for certain. Until then, I must keep my gaze set forward and not linger long on death.

 

    So, to all of the Paladins reading my words: I never had faith in Xan. I used his gifts to serve the will of the Creator. Dark beings have no right to exist in our world, and I stick to that belief. I just do not believe Xan even listens to the prayers you tell me to make.

 

[!] End of Memoir Four.

 

-=-

 

Sapphire.

 

Everything was sapphire.

 

A roar, distant. A lion, perhaps?

 

A battle, Champions of Xan and Tahariae dotted over a battlefield. A shift, now to a cliff. More Xannic champions all around. Revas reached out to help, but grasped nothing. The scene had shifted.

 

Gudour. She’d learned of him from other Paladins. A Drakaar. Druids, Azdrazi, Paladins, all united. One banner. Peace.

 

Clerics heal, Paladins kill.

 

Adelith’s words? Anduin’s? Yarikh’s?

 

“I will heal,” Revas had promised Stefan. “We can be different.”

 

Would she be different, really? Peace hadn’t been achieved in decades. Peace was never possible in Revas’ lifetime. The Azdrazi had made it clear with Adelith.

 

A question. “Will you serve me?” A lion. A sapphire lion.

 

She kneeled.

 

“Yes.”

 

She dropped to her knees, back in the chancery. She had her eyes open a mere second before blacking out.

 

She was a Paladin serving Godan.

 

-=-

 

♫♫♫

 

    I have a few close friends, aside from my family. Friedrich, Stefan, Marie, and Aestenia are the Haenseni ones. I also know Anduin, Rhaelanthur, and a handful of druids. I hold my friends as close as I do family, with Anduin and Rhael acting like my odd uncles. Friedrich is like an older brother while Marie and Stefan are like my weird younger siblings. Aestenia is a wine aunt. They all keep me from doing things that will likely result in my death or a serious injury. If I had not become close with Franz and Friedrich in my youth, I would be worse off.

 

    People seemed to believe Friedrich and I were involved. Nein, we were not. I am no race mixer. And, to put it frankly, I was courting someone for nearly a decade and he has been happily married for even longer. The woman I courted was everything to me at the time, but when we were given the title of Barony, I didn’t want anyone to find out. So I ended it. I loved her, but it wasn’t meant to be.

 

    Perhaps I blame Heinrik for its ending, perhaps not. Perhaps I could blame myself. I need someone to blame. I used to miss her so much.

   

    I was her first choice, but I was also her last. “I’d rather be dead than left broken,” she’d said to me. She isn’t dead.

 

    In the end, it may have been for the best anyway. I married a man who I love to the stars and back. I wouldn’t trade him for the world.

 

[!] End of Memoir Seven.

 

-=-

 

Click. Click. Click.

 

The sound of boots on cobbled streets - or was it heels? Heeled boots? Revas couldn’t tell the difference, she was too zoned out. She did, however, hear the sound of two wailing babes from a nearby alleyway. An alleyway which had just been exited.

 

Revas turned suddenly, but no one was around. The moon was high in Providence, casting long shadows over the streets. The woman turned to the alley, creeping in.

 

“Hello?” Her voice cut through the wails, ricocheting off of the walls of the tight space. With no answer, she quickened her steps in the direction of the babes. Within seconds, she stood before two swaddled newborns tucked into a hand-woven wicker basket. There was nothing to identify the two aside from their golden locks. Their eyes were closed tight, but they were not asleep.

 

The twins cried all the way home. Revas didn’t mind, she was smitten with the children. She knew she wanted to raise them, no matter how bad it may look to others.

 

"No matter what, you two are my children. You will always be my children. It doesn't matter if we share blood because we are still family. Remember that."

 

 

Fire.

♫♫♫

 

Koenas Mariya Antoniya Barbanov was one of the strongest women I ever had the pleasure of knowing. I wish I could have been closer with her, but right as we began to truly know each other she was torn from this world by the hands of a murderer.

 

For a time, I suspected her husband to be the cause. Mariya sought me out to treat her for bruises, you see, and they were… So utterly horrifying to look at, I even became queasy at the sight. I told her I didn’t want to know what had happened. I told her my job was to simply patch her up and send her on her way. I should have asked her who did it. I’ve spent my entire life wondering if it was Heinrik, or possibly one of the knights. Or, was the Queen sneaking out of the city and getting herself hurt? I should have asked her so many questions.

 

I was going to ask her after the garden fair, the one that was right before her death. We had spoken beforehand about something quite concerning, but it was cut short.

 

I have never forgiven myself for never asking her if she needed help.

 

[!] End of Memoir Five.

 

-=-

 

Revas spent hours in the clinic, Temi by her side. The pain was worse than any injury she’d ever endured.

 

Teni assured her it would be worth it. And, in the end, it was.

 

Revas held the infant so close, fearful that she would disappear. The child wailed, even when her father took her from her mother’s arms to allow her to rest.

 

Her name was Vivienne Hanna Asul’onn.

 

Much like with the twins, Revas made a solemn vow on the night of Vivienne’s birth. She swore that she would protect the girl with her own life if the need arose. She would never abandon her child, never let her feel unwanted. She would love her unconditionally, no matter what.

 

 

The Storm’s End

 

It was an accident, in the end. A single wrong move on a simple hunting trip.

 

She’d sought out a bear. Bears provided much more of a thrill than deer, after all. She’d hunted a bear with Anduin in the past, so she believed she could do it alone.

 

Of course, she was wrong.

 

Perhaps she was resigned to her fate when the claws came for her neck. She did not move, after all. She hardly flinched. She didn’t even call upon her mists to stop the bleeding. It was not right to use her gifts for something as mundane as a hunting trip.

 

Revas was able to get away and stumbled toward the village she had started at. Her paranoia had subsided into waves of sheer acceptance. She laid upon the grass just outside of Veritas and stared up at the stars she and her husband had spent many nights talking about.

 

As her eyelids began to slide shut, she felt a hand stroke her cheek.

 

“It’s okay now, Pup,” her father said gently. “Come home with us.”

She saw her two fathers - the one she shared a blood relation with and his husband - who had died before she had even reached seven years of age.

 

And she smiled.

 

Cassim smiled back as he took his daughter’s hand. She allowed herself to fall asleep, hearing the lullaby Christopher had sung to her every night before his death.

 

 

Letters. ((These are private, do not metagame))

 

Family:

 

[!] A group of letters were sent to Elren, Vivienne, Aela, Tarathiel, Elias, Christopher, and Yarikh Asul’onn. ((Will be DM’d separately.))

 

Stefan:

 

Friedrich:

Teni:

Veren:

Astrid:

Anduin:

 

 

Revas Minaeve "The Storm" Barrow-Ambrose Asul'onn

1781 - 1828

 

 

OOC:

 

It has certainly been a rollercoaster playing Revas. I want to say thank you to lillyeveans, Wolfey34, altiar1011, JustGrim, BobBox, MissToni, ColdestPepsi, Cypher_nicus, StrongBear, camocat9, Ztrog, Covey, and Saffryie for making my time playing her an absolute blast. I’m sure I missed some people, and apologies if I forgot you.

 

I wish I could say it was all fun. Unfortunately, that is not the case. With this PK, I will be basically ending my time on LoTC. By that, I mean I am getting too busy with my summer courses and preparing for university. I will still be around on discord to chat with friends, but I will be 18 soon. I have been on this server for nearly 6 years and I am tired. I plan to still play my character Isolde Barclay when I have a night off from studying or to wind down, but this is more for my own satisfaction to see her story ended in the way it should. I’ve learned that not many people see LoTC the same way I do in how I seek to create a fun story rather than essentially play Crusader Kings. Oh well.

 

 

Art dump!

 

 

From within the confines of the de Astrea manor, Isolde Barclay hid herself behind the locked door to her guest bedroom. As she curled up among the warm furs, she finally allowed herself to feel her cousin's loss for the first time in days. She had been preparing to leave Reinmar when she saw it: Marie's broken body laid out over their table in the garden. She pushed down every bit of feeling she may have had in that moment.

Crying makes you weak. She would not cry in front of her family.

Instead, the young woman clung to her best friend, Elias O'Rourke, and asked him to accompany her to his brother's home. She could not stay at Reinmar, especially now. The already broken woman was shattered.

So, she laid in her borrowed bed and clung to the necklace her aunt Marcella had left to her. The necklace held a jeweled bottle filled with a liquid similar to water. Every day for weeks, she took a small sip from it. For twenty-four hours, she would remember all of her loved ones she had lost to the skeletal hands of death clearly, as if they were in front of her. She allowed herself to cry silently at the images of Marie that flooded her mind.

When she unlocked the door to her borrowed room and entered the dining room of the manor, she did not speak much outside of simple greetings. She kept it together, for she was strong. She had to be.

There is no crying until the war is done.

40 minutes ago, GoodGuyMatt said:

Erich decides this is the perfect way for him to assassinate his sister anonymously.

Bold of Erich to assume his sister will not finish him off first. @GoodGuyMatt

Briala never wanted to see the day her oldest friend drew his final breath. She had told him she was not wise nor smart, and she had meant that. But she was happy she had the foresight to invite her friend for one final visit. One final talk, before he was beyond her grasp forever.

A confession, left between the two of them and a hedgehog who had long since passed. The first lie she ever spoke to him. The way his laugh filled her chest with a bittersweet warmth. It all swirled around her head the morning after, when she woke to see the lifeless eyes of Gail Cordius staring back at her from across the sheltered area. Regret was the first thing she felt.

 

As Briala pulled his body to her chest, the regret was mixed with a terrible ache. No, not an ache. A sharp, searing pain in her chest. She did not cry. She was strong.

She was strong.

She was strong as she trekked across the desert, past her old home, to the East. She was strong as she stayed up for a full day and night, her legs moving slowly but surely to their destination. When she finally reached Veritas, Gail's body was almost too much for her to carry anymore. As she hit the first step of the city, she collapsed. For the first time, this grime-covered girl who had not slept in days allowed herself to feel the full extent of her grief.

And so, Briala accepted what she was: a weak coward. And she wept.

T H E   F O O L

 

“The Fool represents a person who is about to set off on a journey. They are often pictured on a high cliff, ready to step into the unknown. They make no plans, nor give thought to possible complications along the way. Always happy to be trying something different, they blindly set out where others may fear treading.” -Soul Tarot

 

♫♫♫

 

 

 

 

Welcome to wonderland, we’ve got it all,

 

Decades and decades of voices. Why won’t they stop?

 

I just want one moment of silence, please. Please.

 

What did she say?

 

The silence hurts. It all went silent. Why did I want it to stop? Please come back.

 

They stopped for a moment, but then they whispered. It was like the hushed gossip of a ballroom. They were talking about us. About her. About me?

 

What did she say? 

 

Oh. It's over.

 

Oh.

 

What did I say?

 

It's so hushed. The quiet thrum hurts like the silence.

 

They don't want me to hear. I won't listen anyway.

 

What did I say?

 

 

Welcome to wonderland, look where you’re at,

 

Briala never believed she would get married. She watched her birth father be torn apart by her mother's death, then watched her adoptive father go between women. Then she watched her mother become heartbroken when her first husband left.

 

But she had truly loved Ciliren. She still did. She wanted to marry Ciliren. She was warned, and so was Cili. They were happy on Arcas.

 

Would it have been different if they hadn't gotten married? Would it have ended sooner? Lasted longer?

 

It was Briala's fault. She couldn't be there for Ciliren. Ciliren needed someone who could support her, not someone who needed support.

 

 

Everyone that leaves has a heavy heart,

 

One two three four five six seven eight nine ten.

 

One foot in front of the other. Stay calm.

 

Keep going. Move.

 

One two three four five six seven nine eight.

 

It's all blurry. Where is Haelun?

 

My eyes burn. Why?

 

One three two four five eight six seven.

 

I've made it. I'm okay.

 

I'm okay. Pip, I promise I'm okay.

 

One two five four three two one.

 

Wait, that's not how it goes. I can't think.

 

I'm fine, Pip.

 

 

Holding your hand under sapphire skies,

 

Briala ran for her hiding spot, Pip’s favorite place. It was a cave dug into the side of the mountain, just big enough for a person. Pip, Briala’s elderly fennec fox companion, was curled up there. She enjoyed speaking to Pip, as he cared deeply for her. She had saved his life.

He asked her what was wrong, why she was crying. She kept telling him she was fine. She had to be fine for Ele. Ele. What would they tell Ele?

“Pip, I want to go.”

 

Briala had wanted to leave for so long, but she had stayed for Ciliren and Ele. She couldn’t leave her daughter. She needed to be there for her. But she couldn’t stay. Not right now.

 

Dancing through a dream underneath the stars,

 

The voices are calling now. They never stop.

 

They know I want to leave.

 

What will I say?

 

I love you more than anything else in the world.

 

I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you.

 

Do you forgive me?

 

I want you to come with me. I can’t take you away from your mother.

 

You can visit? You can come see me. Yes, come see me. I can’t come see you.

 

Do you forgive me?

You will always be mine and Ciliren’s daughter. Please allow space for Valmuel while I am gone.

 

Please. He loves you so much. He is a good man.

 

You forgive me. There is nothing to forgive?

 

I love you. I love you. I love you.

 

You are the best thing that has ever happened to me, Elesul.

 

 

Not sure if anything's real or a dream,

 

Briala and Ciliren told Elesul of the divorce. Did she understand fully? Likely not.

 

What mattered was that they loved her and she loved them. And then, Briala told them that she would be leaving. Ele could visit. Briala couldn’t stay right now.

 

Unsure if it was the stress of those few days, Briala opted not to tell them how she had been feeling. Thinking. Her mind had been jumbled since her attunement. It got worse by the day.

Thinking clearly was hard. She counted to keep calm. How did it go?

One two three four six five —  no. That was wrong.

 

She got ahead of herself, even in counting. The counting kept her from crying.

 

She didn’t want to cry in front of Ele. She had to be strong for her. Ciliren was always strong.

 

Briala left the two to talk while she penned her note to the Order. She couldn’t face them. They would whisper like the others. They’d been whispering for a time. Or was that the voices? She couldn’t tell.

 

 

If this was a dream, then at least I’ve got

Memories for when morning comes,

[!] A note would be pinned to the bulletin board for the Mother Circle to see.

“Brothers and Sisters,

 

I regret to inform you that I will be departing for an indefinite amount of time. I want to surround myself in nature and meditate for some time. Elesul, my daughter, knows where I will be. If I am desperately needed simply ask her to contact me.

This was a hard decision for me to make, but I believe it will be best for everyone. Over the course of this year, I will  be preparing for my journey and saying my goodbyes. Seek me out if you wish to see me before I leave.

 

-Briala, Sister Forget-Me-Not”

 

Now that I must leave with a heavy heart.
Oh, Wonderland, I love.