Coolcod77

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.

Sergei Aleksandr removed his circlet at the announcement of the death of his brother-in-law, a frown forming upon his visage as he looked around for the whereabouts of his wife. Edmund Barclay poured one out for the Baron of Sigradz, another life taken too soon. "Wer rastet der rostet." He then raised his mug, in honour of his ancestors.

Prince Sergei grinned at a job well done, his skin recovering from sunburn acquired in the south.

"Stauntons?" Recited the confused Prince of the Rothswood as he glanced over to his coat of arms.

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Oskar Barclay wiped the sweat from his brow as he finished sketching pictures for Adelmar's magazine.

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Sergei Aleksandr locked himself in his room as he was informed about the murder of another of his friends. He had planned to visit Inga prior to the escalation of the war, to deliver a toy bear of his.

Sergei Aleksandr was too busy puking to actually read the missive, a much less lethal side affect from the meal.

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Edmund prepares his cannon as he hears of the new Cannonist religion.

Sergei Aleksandr sees himself in the portrait, a wide smile plastered upon his face!

A former Duke of Reinmar smiles from the skies with a hand on the shoulder of his Grandson, Erich. "Your son has done well."

"This is no Barclay." Declared Manfred Barclay from the skies, a frown on his lips.

Manfred opened his eyes after drifting into his last sleep to be surrounded by his loved ones and family members, most of whom had passed many years beforehand. He smiled as he was finally reunited with his childhood friends and his daughter. “Wer rastet der rostet.” He remarked down towards his kin that still lived.