KaiserJacobII

Which of your characters has been your favourite?

What rp moment has been the most impactful on you, in a good or bad way?

How are you so cool?

INAUGURATION OF THE 1ST SENATE EQUES

11th of Harren’s Folly, 1886

As the first election for the Senate Eques comes to a close, we are pleased to announce that the ballots cast in this smooth and honourably conducted election have been counted.

The following candidates are now Senators-Elect of our Commonwealth, and are to take their oaths of office to the Constitution as soon as it is feasible:

Dame Catherine of Furnestock @AndrewTech

Ser Bernard Luc Halcourt @Lyonharted

Ser Charles Temesch et Moroe @MCVDK

Ser Steiner Alain von Richthofen @Enlightenment

Ser Ludwig Johannes von Preussens @Dasdi

The Rt. Hon. Baron of Artois shall be conducting the ceremony in the Regent’s stead, representative of the Old Régime’s rights and privileges under the Constitution. 

All citizens of the Commonwealth of the Petra, and foreign guests, alike are invited to attend the ceremony at Temesch Hall in one Saint’s Day as the first ever government of our Republic is formed.

Paul Salvian Temesch et Moere,

Regent of the Commonwealth

I don't know you, and you don't know me. Try me.

Arnaud Halcourt smiles brightly as his lifelong friend, his darling sister, finds a man to call her own. His eyes turn sort of misty as he approaches her with a chuckle. "About time, qui?" The baron sounds. @JaneJam

Baron Halcourt, a member of that new Old Régime, raises the Petrine standard over the walls of his manor. A bright, proud smile grows upon his countenance as the folds of black and red flutter in the soft breeze. 

He looks over to his cousin, nodding his head. "Indeed we did," he replies. @Lyonharted

PENNED ON THE 10TH OF SIGISMUND’s END, 1884

The banks of the Petra 

~Circa, 1880~

Oh, Petra! Let your maternal waters flowth o’er banks and across the land

And Petra, deep and wide water; land of my forefathers

I shall not betray you, I shall stand and I am at your command

And I shall be buried on your banks 

Petra, flowing water!

Bring wealth, health, and liberty

To every true son and daughter

Let your waters run free, ne’er ice-o’er, or run dry

Like the bounty of your fields and fens

From valley low to hillside high

Let your freedom ring!

Petra, flowing water!

Bring wealth, health, and liberty

To every true son and daughter

Those few, true who kneel to drink from her banks

Let their wits be e’er sharp, and swords sharper

To stand as a fellow in her proud ranks

Is the greatest honour of all

Petra, flowing water!

Bring wealth, health, and liberty

To every true son and daughter

When I die, I wish to be buried in her green hills

And if I ride home no more

I will ask that honour she fulfills 

And I shall ask no more from her

Petra, flowing water!

Bring wealth, health, and liberty

To every true son and daughter

Bring wealth, health, and liberty

To every true son and daughter!

Penned, 

The Honourable, Lord Arnaud Halcourt, 

Baron d’Artois, Patriarche d'Halcourt

Arnaud Halcourt clambers onto the tiled roof of Artois, in opposition to the advice and concerns of his chamberlain. From there, the baron watches the golden sun rise over the glittering Petra. He takes out a small, leather-bound book and puts pen to paper. 

A depiction of the Halcourt twins, shortly before they both caught a terrible cold

~Circa, 1883~

Penned 3rd of Sun's Smile, 1884
 

TO ALL OUR PEERS WITHIN THE CONFEDERATION,

Last fall two twins were born to my wife and I in the house of Artois. Joy quickly turned to dread as shortly after their births, they caught a terrible cold. Our family physician declared their chances of surviving the winter near naught. Heartbroken, I chose not to announce their births. 

Now I am ecstatic to announce that the twins not only survived the winter, but have been made stronger for it. Being a twin is a rare privilege that I myself am honoured to have, as my twin sister Lady Béatrice was born a few minutes after me. Much like Béatrice, they share the proud scarlet hair of my father, and myself.

Without any further ado, on the behalf of all of house Halcourt, I would like to—belated, albeit—announce the births of:

Lady Nicoletta Anastasie Halcourt, Heiress-Apparent d’Artois, and @slattador

Lord Arnaud Philippe Halcourt @sashimichopped

May they grow wise and strong, and lead our newborn confederation into a bright future. 

Signed,

The Honourable, Lord Arnaud Halcourt,

Baron d’Artois, Patriarche d'Halcourt

The Honourable, Lady Henrietta Halcourt,

Baroness d’Artois

Lady d’Artois and her newborn daughter

~Circa, 1884~

Penned 5th of Sun's Smile, 1884

TO ALL OUR PEERS WITHIN THE CONFEDERATION,

I am glad to announce the birth of an additional daughter. She was born just after the long-awaited collapse of the Orenian petty Kingdom, and is one of the first children of a new, liberated era. 

Her name shall be:

Lady Francine Lucille Halcourt @scarahpot

She shall be named partially in honour of her grandmother, whom she reminds me of. I hope she has the wisdom and wit of that great woman, and not the smoking habits.

Signed,

The Honourable, Lord Arnaud Halcourt,

Baron d’Artois, Patriarche d'Halcourt

The Honourable, Lady Henrietta Halcourt,

Baroness d’Artois

Baron Halcourt smiles as he looks out over the golden fields that stretch from Artois to the road. "Peace at last," he hums to his wife. 

AS AGREED, 

Let it be known that within the lands under the administration of the House Halcourt, the Barony of Artois, and the lands under the administration of House Vilain, the Barony of Acre, from this day and thenceforth these terms are binding:

I. The Barony of Artois, and all her denizens, shall withdraw from any conflict with Acre and her allies, and declare their animosity toward Oren and her allies.

II. The Barony of Artois and the Barony of Acre shall enter a mutual defence pact. 

III. Artois shall not knowingly harbour any enemies of Acre, nor Acre of Artois.

All the above agreements shall stand until, and be reevaluated upon victory over Oren.

Signed,

The Honourable, Lord Arnaud Halcourt,

Baron of Artois, Patriarche d'Halcourt

Sir Hannes de Vilain,

Baron of Acre, Father of All

PENNED ON THE 16TH OF OWYN’S FLAME, 1883

 Lord Halcourt & Lady von Preussens mourning over the Baroness’ lifeless body.

[!] Travelling between vassals of the Kingdom and Castle de Vilain, a courier wears the colours of gold and teal of Halcourt, spreading a certain missive which read ;

It is with great regret that I must inform you all of my beloved Mother’s passing. The Lady Evangéline Halcourt d’Artois was a light to the others in her life, and we know that many of her friends and family may find themselves confused at her final end. In truth, she died as she lived. On the fateful evening, Lady Evangéline found herself in my study, entreating myself and my blessed betrothed on the affairs of our realm. 

Perhaps due to my negligence, I had mentioned again the worrisome capture of my brother, whom our Mother cared deeply for. At the same time, she had meant to spit out a leftover piece of a cigarette she had been smoking, the fourteenth of the day. With the mention of her other son, a gasp had left her lips, and unfortunately the piece became lodged in her throat. 

We attempted all manner of manoeuvres to get it dislodged, but alas, GOD chose that night to become her final day. We are sad to see her go, but glad to watch her leave, as she has left us doing what she loved. 

May she find as much smoke as she can withstand in the afterlife. GOD bless.

SIGNED,

THE HONOURABLE, Arnaud Godwin Halcourt d’Artois,

Baron of Artois

HER LADYSHIP, Henrietta Wilhelmine von Preussens, 

Baroness consort to-be

Smaller map

CT on a separate island, not in the middle of the map

Unique, interactive biomes (not just plains/forest #24)

Arnaud Halcourt turns to Henrietta @sondher, flashing a small smile. "Soon it shall be our hour," he hums. 

The Ballads of Youth

A Collection of Poetry by Arnaud Godwin Halcourt

Heir to the Barony of Artois

c. 1881

Foreword by HIH Catherine Anastasia

Duchess of Westmarch

c. 1881
 

✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵

Before you have the great pleasure of reading this collection of poetry, the author has asked that I pen a few words on the art of it therein. Though initially surprised by his request, I have decided to oblige.

The art of poetry is, in its most fundamental form, the act of exercising one's mastery over the written word. It can be a medium of expressing one’s deepest feelings or desires, but likewise has the potential to make a statement about the very fabric of the world around them.

A true poet knows how to weave their words in such a way that they touch those who behold them. Those which inspire one to think are among the best pieces of prose. True poetry should paint a vibrant picture within one’s mind, able to capture powerful scenes across the Grand Tapestry of Mankind.

These lovely pieces moved me when I first read them, and I sincerely hope that they might touch you as they did myself. It is my hope that by penning this forward that I might draw attention to this young poet’s work, as I seek to uplift and encourage the youths of the next generation to take up the pen themselves, as I once did.

✵ Observations from Magdalena ✵

Chimney tops pierce the sky

As blades once pierced the flesh;

Blood begets blood as

Peace begets peace, and once more

The blade turns to flesh

Not to plowshare

But, here there is no blade

Not one turneth on countryman or

Neighbor, for here everyone finds their

Neighbor is a countryman

The golden wheat is the colour of her hair,

And as soft as a summer’s day, is she

One can see her twirling in the acres of Acre

Spirit of love, freedom, youth

Ofttimes fleeting as a lover, is she

Rains wash away the pastel blue of sky, and

Muddies the vision of true men, until

The blade turns to flesh

✵ Sonnet for a Rainy Day ✵

As skies turn gray, and overland tears do flowth

The pines, and willows, ash and oak

In the feral wind do blowth

Underbridge or aqueduct one will cloak

E’er do the winds blow towards me

Without her comforting smile, and tender

Periwinkles gaze, I would be lost in a sea

Of cruelty, adrift without sight of splendor

Upon the shore, my legs giveth way to sand

And tears streak down my face, or perhaps

That is just the cruel rain, which over I have no command

This I realize as the water at my cold feet laps

That is why I love the rain,

For it reminds me there is so much left in life to gain.

✵ Ode to Starlight ✵

Ah, to be one bright star up high in dark

Skies, burning free above all pain and plight

Beyond the minds of mortal men; and hark

One hears a single church bell ring with might

Perhaps it rings for me and mayhap it

Rings out for you; ‘tis signaling some great

And constant denouement in a sun-lit

Life, now the stars have come softly out of late

I do not fear dark skies, like the void rare

I do not fear the ever-encroaching night

For the night is so gentle and soft; e’er

Illuminated Jewels; tender, bright

And will return on a celestial bridge of stars

To stay among the silver, golden orbs called stars 

"A lasting peace, perhaps?" muses Arnaud Halcourt.

He was wrong.

"Howya, T'eo," the voice of Michael O'Rourke greets warmly upon the Countess' entrance into the Skies.

The Late Cardinal Francis welcomes the Pontiff to the Skies. "Ah, it is wonderful to see you again, old friend," he says with a soft smile.

From behind the Ludovar comes forth a tan, green-eyed man: Michael O'Rourke. He smiles as bright as he did so many years ago, when mortal life still beat in his heart. "Ah.. Macushla, 'tis really wonderful teh see ye 'gain," he utters, tears of pure joy forming in his eyes—if such can happen to a departed soul. "Per'aps weh can catch'up on some overdue dances, yeup?"

"Based," utters Venerable Cardinal Francis Albarosa from his place in the Skies.

I would read the full lore of LotC to it

Arnaud Halcourt also prepares to meet his newest cousin!

Is it true that your followers are called "Papists"? If so, can I be a Papist?

"A Carnival, Maman! Can I go? Please, please, Maman!" Arnaud Halcourt exclaims, limping towards his mother with a big smile upon his youthful face. @milkyi

Young Arnaud Halcourt returns to Château d'Artois, a thousand thoughts racing through his little head.

"huh," Sébastien Halcourt sounds as he reads the paper during a break from work.