ContestedSnow

The sound of pottery shattering echoed through the Drusztran Keep, breaking the otherwise still quiet of a late evening. Viktor var Ruthern stood heaving in the hallway of his home's quarters, shoulders raising then dropping, over the remains of some vase or other that he had smashed. He brought the report up to his eyes to read once more, in vain effort. His hand closed, then gripped firm; crushing the paper in hand. Deaf to the concern of servants or anger of his family, he stormed off with his chin raised imperious... and seemingly wet eyes. He needed some cold air. "Vy promised and ea believed, so many years ago. Nie tears will come from eam, Lorena..." In spite of his words uttered in anger and frustration... grief found itself creeping into the Ruthern's heart.

MC Name: ContestedSnow Discord: ContestedSnow#9580 Image: Description of Image: A portrait of Emeric Radovanic, posed with sword. Dimensions: 1 wide, 2 high

MC Name: ContestedSnow Discord: ContestedSnow#9580 Image: Description of Image: A portrait of Emeric and Lukas Radovanic posed side-by-side, weapons drawn. Dimensions: 2 wide, 2 high

Viktor var Ruthern nodded slightly as he read the Weiss missive from his quarters in Druzstra Keep, the teen's expression set sternly. He struck his first Mori when he was just a boy, but he was certain there were many more to come yet. The war was not through yet. "Dobry work, Lord Haus. Now et es up to the Brotherhood to learn et well." He murmured, before pushing to a stand, and making to collect his bow.

Viktor var Ruthern grips his quill with a frown as his eyes turn over the missive of the Prince. His mind races to the panic and chaos of the last battles he fought, and doubt briefly fills his chest. He squeezes firmly, until the quill snaps in two, and stands. He must be strong, and he must support his cousin. Into battle. The Ruthern heir stormed out of his quarters, intent on collecting his axe and recruiting the efforts of his cousin Andrik, and his good friend, Mikolaj. @ReveredOwl @Demavend

"Et was death or lies. Ea see..." Viktor noted quietly, gripping the leather of the scabbard that weighed heavy at his hip now.

"Again, Adrians can niet speak with their own words with their own mouths." Viktor felt no great affection for the Kortrevich, but he thought less for their underhanded foes forcing him to write drivel at sword-point.

Amber eyes turn over the notice, before Emeric grows a frown. Perhaps he really was starting to get old... He marched off to the barracks of Branhavn to begin preparing equipment. Viktor var Ruthern clenched his jaw as he read. For all his bravado, true battle was not something he had been prepared for. Alas... now, he would have to be.

"Acre has niet been around in years, ea thought, unless Hiro es a citizen of the Little Acre bakery. These Adrians should own their own words, since they are the only ones in Canondom who want the Pontiff dead so badly." Viktor var Ruthern scowled as he read the notice.

The second-born did not prove difficult to find. He mulled about the halls of the palace, and lingered long times upon its' many balconies. The weight of loss and the thoughts of all that his sister could have accomplished formed a deep pit in his stomach. He felt heavy, like lead, but... He had to be strong.

MC Name: ContestedSnow Discord: ContestedSnow#9580 Image: Description of Image: Map art of a King of Haense for the museum. DrewDOOD / Drew #7225 will be paying for it Dimensions: 2 wide, 2 high

MC Name: ContestedSnow Discord: ContestedSnow#9580 Image: Description of Image: Map art of a King of Haense for the museum. DrewDOOD / Drew #7225 will be paying for it Dimensions: 2 wide, 2 high

MC Name: ContestedSnow Discord: ContestedSnow#9580 Image: Description of Image: Map art of a King of Haense for the museum. DrewDOOD / Drew #7225 will be paying for it Dimensions: 2 wide, 2 high