Coolcod77

Konstanz remained alone in his chambers, mourning the loss of his dear mother. "Rest well mother, you've earnt it."

More bargains.

IGN: Coolcod76 RP NAME: Ser Konstanz Barclay PERSONA ID: 64186

"Wer rastet der rostet." Ser Konstanz said solemnly as he read the missive, he recalled his memories of his former home but knew the future of his people was now in their own hands. In the skies, Manfred Barclay looks down with pride upon his descendants and the Kingdom he once served faithfully.

The Bogatyr Quest Fredrich Ludovar KRUSAE ZWY KONGZEM Issued By The Knight Paramount On this 19th day of Joma ag Umund of 495 E.S. Squire Fredrich Ludovar, a loyal soldier of the Kingdom and one of our long standing squires, has completed their final trial during his training as a Squire of the Crow and as such, I deliver this quest unto him; There have been reports of a creature or entity ravaging caravans travelling south through the savannah portion of our kingdom, this has caused disruption amongst the nation's trade routes and must be resolved swiftly. The reports detail a large, scaled creature, although no further specifications are made, it is to be considered a dangerous foe. The quest is simple, track down this creature and ensure it shall no longer be a threat to the realm, a trophy or item of proof must be presented to myself upon completion of the quest. May GOD guide Fredrich Ludovar on his quest.

The Bogatyr Quest Asta Thorsen KRUSAE ZWY KONGZEM Issued By The Knight Paramount On this 10th of Gronna and Droba of 494 E.S. Squire Asta Thorsen, the veteran soldier of Haense has completed his final trial during his training as a Squire of the Crow and as such, I deliver this quest unto him; There have been reports that a Thundermaw Raven has been terrorizing the valley just north of Valdev, witnesses have placed the specific area to be in the direct vicinity of the old ruined watchtower by the lake. As this is a formidable foe, I have deemed this creature to be a worthy challenge for the squire to prove his worth to the order. Asta must defeat this creature and destroy it's nest, as per tradition dictates, a trophy must then be collected and presented to myself as proof upon completion of the quest. May GOD guide Asta Thoren on his quest.

Ser Konstanz remained solemn and out of public view, his life now filled with despair at the costly loss of his dear wife.

"Blood for Barclay." Yelled a patriot

A New Day Dawns As the sun set on a typical winter evening at the Rothswood manor in the forests of Dobrov, an eerie silence fell upon the grounds, the unsettling nature such had stopped bothering the aged Prince quite some time ago. He ended his day as he normally would when his wife was away, sat with a glass of wine by the fire, blinking often to stop himself inevitably falling to sleep. This time felt different however, it was never a fate the Prince had expected to face. A battlefield was where the former Marshal had intended to breathe his last, surrounded by his comrades, his kin and with his sword in hand. A smile appeared across his lips, he reached for his sword that often remained by his side. Sword in hand, the Duke of the Rothswood closed his eyes for the last time. Warmth embraced him as he entered the skies as he was now with his ancestors, his parents, his siblings, his dear friends.

Erwin came to a halt on the back of his horse as he idly read the letter, a look of shock horror adorned his facial features as he finished reading the letter amongst the ruins of Dobrov. "Alas, GOD protects me." He then tossed the missive into the bushes, a relieved sigh following.

Erwin Frowned at what his nation had done.

The younger, as he was often called had learnt of the news whilst staying at his estate due south of Karosgrad. Without a word, he saddled his horse and headed for Karosgrad and the Palace within. Sergei stopped several feet before his brother's body, a tear rolling down his cheek. "Brother." He then approached his twin with caution, withdrawing a blade from beneath his cloak. The aged Prince then placed the sword upon the deceased Crow's chest. "You've made father proud, the Kingdom proud and myself proud." He then knelt before his brothers body as tears continued to pour. "Krusae Zwy Kongzem." Were the last words he spoke to his brother.

An ancient Barclay Duke welcomed his descendent into the seven skies with a smile and a hug. "Welcome." Elsewhere... Erwin sat upon the hill above Rozenfeld, admiring the work his mother had done and what she had built with tears streaming down his eyes. "Rest in peace, mother." at that the Barclay Lordling removed his sword from the dirt and went to comfort the rest of his family.

Sergei Aleksandr bid his farewell to Ser Walton in the hospital, he returned the knight his sword and remembered how the Knight had protected him, his father, his brother and the rest of their family for all of his life. He would not forget this sacrifice.

"I hope you found peace, friend." The aged Prince removed his circlet, sparing some moments for his former brother-at-arms and a true Haenseman.

Erwin Barclay rubbed his chin, a thin smile on his lips. "A Barclay Bargain." He'd call out to anyone in earshot.

ANNOUNCEMENT OF LEADERSHIP CHANGE KRUSAE ZWY KONGZEM After a dutiful tenure in which the Interim Lord Marshal Prince Sergei worked to see the army trained and raised with new men as well as ensuring battle is brought to the Inferi scourge. After such trying times however, it is deemed that men have sufficiently stepped up to show themselves worthy of the proper mantle of Lord Marshal. The King thanks his brother for his dutiful efforts and his service to his kingdom. His Majesty and the incumbent Interim Marshal Sergei Aleksandr have found it fit to announce the change of leadership in the brotherhood, with the current Interim Marshal Sergei Aleksandr stepping down from his position with Baron Sviatoslav Godunov having been selected as his replacement. May the brotherhood grow ever stronger under his leadership and guidance. 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, Reza, Viscount of Varna, Baron of Esenstadt, Kraken’s Watch, Kralta, Krepost, Lorentz, Rytsburg, Thurant and Astfield, Lord of the Westfolk, Protector of the Highlanders, etcetera. His Highness, Sergei Aleksandr the Duke of the Rothswald His Lordship, Sviatoslav Godunov, Lord Marshal of Hanseti-Ruska, Baron of Verskaya

Sergei Aleksandr fell to his knees at the news, a quiver of arrows scattering across the floor of the armoury he was organizing. "Where is she?" He asked the soldier that brought the news, the Interim Marshal was then seen running for the palace in despair.

William, a fellow commoner living in Haense supported the Maer, elected by the people, for the people.

Sergei prayed for those who had been slain and for those who still lived, for alike the soldiers that had been killed, he too was doing his duty.

Manfred offered his descendant a pat on the shoulder as he entered the skies. "To Johann the Restorer!" He then raised a glass with his other fallen kin.

Prinzen Sergei began to pack for a potential emergency journey to the south.

*A depiction of the monument standing out in the night sky* AETERNIUS WAS HIS SWORD At the end of three months of hardship, those who call the Rimeveld their home, a collection of soldiers and a Prinzen stepped back to admire their hard work. Their cloaks were dirtied, coats soaked through and faces gnarled by the frost of the north but they never faltered in their task, to honour their fallen King. "Papej, I did it." The Prince whispered to himself as he wiped the sweat from his brow, he remembered what his father had told him upon that very spot. He then looked back in the direction of Karosgrad, he could finally return home as his promise was fulfilled. So there it stood, upon one of the peaks of the Rimeveld, a monument built in the visage of King Sigismund III's sword. May it remind all those who gaze upon it that King Sigismund III never faltered and nor did his trusty blade, Aeternius.

[!] As the galloping of hooves were masked by the cries of Krusae Zwy Kongzem, the Prince Sergei galloped north, in the direction of the Rimeveld.