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MarquisAlex

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About MarquisAlex

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    Newly Spawned
  • Birthday 10/27/1993

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    MarquisAlex
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    fabledatlon
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    [email protected]

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    Male
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    Cornwall, UK
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    Get to know me a bit better, and I may tell you. :)

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  • Character Name
    Aylwin Blaxton
  • Character Race
    Highlander

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  1. Joint-PK Post for Aylwin Blaxton & Erin Blaxton The winds off of the savannah softly whispered around Brabant Keep, the sun slowly setting over the plains towards Anhalt, with that same warm wind turning cold. Whispering into the stone walls and into the audience hall. A man dressed in black and blue, donning his famous cap, sat upon the throne. His eyes were wearily scanned about his hall, watching as his servant Juliana went by into the kitchen, finishing off her chores for the day. His body slumped in the wooden frame as he turned his head. A smile slowly slipped across his lips as he saw his wife, dressed in her simple blue dress and gazing back at him. The woman stood besides her husband with a tired smile upon her face. The dress which had clung to her once healthy frame now hung loosely from her now frail self. She stood neatly besides her husband, a handkerchief clutched between them. Erin offered a pensive glance about the halls before she turned to her husband, an affectionate gaze offered his way as she saw his smile. “My Lord Blaxton. What has you smiling this time?” she asked before quickly bringing the cloth to her mouth to shield a cough. Lord Aylwin Blaxton, 1st Viscount Brabant, chuckled lightly at the comment as he gazed over her, reaching his hand over to place the palm over handkerchief-clutching hand. “Am I not allowed to smile upon my Wife, My Lady?” he replied in a coy tone, taking that hand and placing a soft kiss upon the back of it, before looking back up to her. His thumb lightly caressing the back of her hand before releasing it, placing both hands upon the side of his chair of lumber and pushing himself up with a slight heave and huff. “You are, my love,” replied the woman as she placed herself besides her husband as he stood, and looped her arm around his for support. “Look at you, such an old man. What will we do with you?” It had become a running tease for the pair, each calling the other various shades of old. It was true, however. Erin herself had reached almost forty years, and they had not been kind to her. Aylwin was older than her still. With a guiding hand, or arm in this case, the smaller woman lead her husband along the hall, and towards the staircase. The Viscount merely grinned, tilting his head to the side to place a kiss at the top of her head as the pair began to walk upstairs, his arm resting from her shoulder to the small of her back. “The pot calling the kettle black, darling.” he darted in reply “Come on, let’s get to bed. My bones are cold tonight.” With careful steps, they climbed the stairs of the keep until they came to the main corridor, the wind dying down and leaving a flickering warmth that came from the torches on the stone walls. “That was already my intention, my love,” replied the woman as the two arrived on the landing. Erin shivered, despite the warmth of the torches. She had been feeling cold for days, and nothing seemed to warm her up. Leading them to Aylwins chambers, Erin continued to act as his walking stick as such, keeping the older man upright as they made their way along the hall. “If you continue needing support, I might have to invest in a cane for you,” Erin commented teasingly, a twinkle of childishness in her tone as she made most of their situation. A small, playful scoff came from Aylwin’s gruff and bearded face, going over to the wardrobe and preparing himself for bed. “Why invest in a cane when I have a perfectly good one right here?” he said in a satirizing fashion, before laying himself in the bed covers and placing out some of the few candles in the room. His head laid upon a soft feathered pillow, a luxury he could scarce afford in his early years, but now he could rest in with relative comfort. His eyes looked over his beautiful wife as she too finished preparing for bed. His glance interrupted by a chesty cough, covered by a swift hand to his mouth. Erin clambered into the bed besides her husband after herself changing into something more comfortable. Even bed robes, which had been made new for her fairly recently, hung far too loosely for her now. The woman laid her head besides Aylwins, taking a moment's comfort to recall the first meeting with him that she could remember. She recalled how she sat besides Aylwin on a stone step within Karlsburg, watching as Johan, her former husband, conversed with a young Kovachev girl, and how that girl had been bickering with Floris van Loden. She recalled how she had been speaking quietly to Aylwin, and recalled how wonderful it had been to have a friend. Now, Erin laid besides him, married to him. How she loved him. “If being your cane meant that I could be besides you every day then I shall be just that for you,” the sickly woman commented before coughing into her handkerchief again. With that, she closed her eyes, relishing in the comfort besides the man she loved. With a light tug, the covers were thrown over the pair by Aylwin’s arm, wrapping his arms around her like a koala might to a tree. He leans his head over to place a soft kiss on her lips, in a moment of opportunity, as she turned to meet his gaze. “To be with you everyday is a blessing, my dearest Erin.” he whispered to her before resting his head back onto the pillow. His eyes closed as he saw the familiar histories of his life; a party in the snows of Laurenstadt, a happy reunion in the streets of Aleksandria & a beautiful marriage in the stone chapel of St Owyn at Schloss Hochspitze. “Goodnight, Sweetheart” On the 2nd of Sun's Smile, in the Year of our Lord 1617, Lord Aylwin Blaxton & his Wife, Erin Blaxton, died peacefully in their bed chambers at Brabant Keep. A Funeral will be held at Anhalt within the next few days. All of the Memoirs of Aylwin Blaxton are now published for public knowledge. A post will go up, acting as a Table of Contents to the Memoirs. Future Editions will still be posted as they are discovered. Thank you.
  2. CITIZENS OF THE PRINCIPALITY, When in the course of Human events a people lose their Liege-Lord, a decent respect requires that there be an ample opportunity given for the people to grieve their loss, whilst the Lords of the Principality's Privy Council meet to discuss the continuation of the feudal system. In the most fortunate of these circumstances, the Lords of the Privy Council would heed the Last Will & Testament of the former Liege-Lord, wherein the Rightful Heir will sit in the Serene Prince's Throne. In this case, the Privy Council duly recognises the rightful heir of the Serene Prince's Seat at Hochspitze as His Grace, Robert Frederick Horen-Preussen, the Duke of Dorahy; True-born son of His Serene Highness, Ser Frederick Augustus, Prince of Pruvia, Duke of Ostland, Count of Eastwatch and Baron of Schloss Hochspitze, Shield of Mardon, Knight Commander of the Ioannian Order and Knight Paramount of the Kingdom of Mardon. However, due to the designs of our LORD & GOD, His Grace, Robert Frederick Horen-Pruessen, is currently at too tender an age to rule. It is, therefore, the Law of the Principality for the Privy Council to recommend and designate a Lord Regent, to act in the Serene Prince's stead, until he come of age. In the year of our Lord, 1616, a Declaration of Regency was passed, signed by the Joint-Regent of Pruvia: Ser Emil Var Yaevyr, Executor of the Principality of Pruvia, who did knowingly and willing fail to call the Privy Council of Pruvia. In doing so, the said Executor, failed in his duties to inform the Privy Council of the Death of the Serene Prince Frederick Augustus & thus named His Majesty the King Stephen I of Hanseti and Ruska, the Ever Loyal Subject of His Imperial Majesty, Grand Prince of the Raev, Duke of Akovia, Krajia and the Greymarsh, Count of Karikhov, Ayr, Baranya, Kavat, Karovia, Torun, and Kaunas, Baron of Vsenk and Rothswald, Lord of St. Karlsburg and Protector of the Highlanders, as Regent of Pruvia in the name of His Grace, Robert Frederick Horen-Preussen, the Duke of Dorahy & that of the Privy Council. With that same decent respect that comes with the grievances of our time, as well as the aforementioned grievance named above, the Privy Council of Pruvia is impelled to declare a Denunciation of the Declaration of Regency, passed in the year 1616. We, therefore, the Privy Council of the Principality of Pruvia, after voting a majority on the said issue of this denunciation, also humbly entreat His Royal Majesty, Peter Sigismund of House Horen, Forever August, King of Mardon and the Westerlands, Duke of Blackmarsh and Marna, Count of Lorath, Cantal, Baron of Gravel Hold and Vineland, to actively seek a redress of our grievances with that of His Grace Robert Frederick & His Majesty the King Stephen I of Hanseti and Ruska. IN NOMINE DEI, The Right Honorable, Aylwin Blaxton, Chancellor of the Privy Council of Pruivia, Viscount of Brabant. The Most Noble, Augustus von Anhalt, Margrave of Anhalt, Burgrave of Edelstein, and Baron of Schloss Edlingham. Maester Aldred of Brisengamen, Maester of Hochspitze. Blundermore Patrick Wind-Raker, Court Wizard of Hochspitze.
  3. The Marriage of Aylwin Blaxton & Erin Lockley Redacted Artist, Aylwin Blaxton and Erin Lockley (1st of The Amber Cold, 1616). The sound of chatter echoed around the woodlands of Hochspitze as friends and loved ones gathered within the castle to witness the union between loved ones. Inside the hall, the groom, Aylwin Blaxton stood patiently waiting for his bride. Dressed in his typical blue outfit, with his now signature hat, he waited with a smile upon his face. With everyone taking their seats on the command of the priest, the bride was then signalled to enter. Down the aisle walked Erin Lockley, dressed in a teal coloured, flowing gown that trailed slightly behind her as she made her descent. Her smile matched Aylwins as she met him at the altar and as she arrived by his side, he took her hand in his. The priest greeted the couple with a wide grin, and began reading aloud the vows they were to repeat. Phrase by phrase the couple exchanged promises of eternal love and honesty to one another, their smiles never faltering once. When all was said and done, simple token rings were exchanged as the priest signalled them to kiss. As they did, they sealed their bond, and turned to their families. Aylwins brother, Vandar, Erins brother and her son, Willem cheered as the priest dismissed the couple, and willed them to a happy marriage. On this day, the 1st of The Amber Cold, 1616... Let it be known that Aylwin Blaxton, Chancellor of Hochspitze, 1st Viscount Brabant and notable diplomat, has this day wed Erin Lockley, landowner and merchant. May this marriage be blessed by GOD, May it bring happiness. Ave.
  4. The Marriage of Ayldan Blaxton & Alyssa Adelheid Amador Redacted Artist, Ayldan Blaxton & Aylssa Adelheid Amador at Hochspitze (1st of The Amber Cold, 1616). The Bells of Hochspitze rang over the Principality of Pruvia, (14) Nobles & Gentry attended beneath a High-Noon Sun. (12) Inside the Chapel of St Owyn stood a former Pariah, (12) In the Black and Blue of House Blaxton. (7) Perched beneath the Alter, with a Priest holding the scripture, (14) He turned his singular gaze towards the one he'd adore. (12) She was a gorgeous sight, a remarkable picture, (12) In the White & Blue of House Amador. (7) Her hand placed on the arm of her Brother, Count Owyn, (12) as she cautiously stepped down the Aisle. (7) Peering to her left, onto that of her Blood-Kin, (12) Who smiled at her Grace & Style. (7) With her hand being passed, and a soft look in the eye, (12) There they stood beneath GOD's Omniscient Sight. (10) Speaking holy vows in a hall of stone to amplify, (12) Stained glass windows let in a Soft Light (10) With the Holy Vows now said and the deed be done, (12) they turned to each other and embraced. (11) A hand on his shoulder, A hand on her back, (11) They kissed & hearts have raced. (7) On this day, the 1st of the Amber Cold, 1616... Let it be known that Ayldan Blaxton, Heir to the Viscounty of Brabant, Has Wed Alyssa Adelheid Amador in Holy Matrimony. May this bond unite the Houses of Amador & Blaxton in Blood, May this Marriage be blessed in the sight of GOD, May their lives be happy hereafter. Ave.
  5. My story is not my story, it is the collaboration of all our stories, like the single thread in a fine tapestry.

  6. The Memoirs of Aylwin Blaxton - Book 8 Warning: NO META - These memoirs are OOC information until Aylwin Blaxton dies, then they will become common knowledge IC. Chapter 71: Cold Revenge Redacted Artist, "Presumed Appearance of Nikolai Rykov" (1604) Up in the top floor of the library tower, high above the skies into the Barony of Ostwick, the Queen Anna-Sophia's Privy Council gathered in haste. The Queen's body had been given treatment to cleanse the body, before being placed in a coffin, surrounded by flowers within the chapel. We all wept for the loss of our leader. Lady Alyssa Adelheid Amador, in particular, spent several hours sat on a pew of the chapel. She stared at the ornate wooden box that housed her mother's corpse. One can only imagine the pain that a person feels when they lose a parent; a shooting pain, as if you were struck by an arrow, grazing the heart. It is little surprise that people then act on such emotions. . . Don't Get Sad, Get Mad. . . Get Even. Get Revenge. Such thoughts no doubt passed all of us who sat in the council rooms. To my right sat the Court Wizard, Blundermore Wind-Raker, along with his servant. To my left sat the Lady Aylssa, tear-trails does her cheeks, with Ayldan Blaxton sat with a sword across his lap. And across from the room was the vacant chair of the new head of the house, Ser Frederick Augustus. He has also been grief-stricken with the loss of his sister, but shown his grief by spending long periods away from the world, often going on long rides or locking himself within his chambers. I called the present members of the Council to Order as my brother stood to speak. His scared face looked around the council chamber as he stated that a man had come to the Barony, requesting that he could kill the Queen-Slayer, Ser Bruce Hornigold. The Privy Council did not take long to deliberate. Everyone wished for the false knight to be killed. However, there was an issue presented to us: who would give the order? Such decisions were usually left to the head of the household, in this case, Ser Frederick. However, in his absence, the order could not be given. Therefore, given the council's consent, I gave the order. Soon enough, we were gathered outside the gates of Metz, where one of the Mardonic Soldiers had captured Ser Bruce Hornigold. I do not lie, I taunted the man who had killed our Queen. Stating a sentence that would likely haunt me and my family for the next few generations. Many others who had joined us also jeered the false knight, calling him all manner of profanities, before he was thrown upon a simple stone off of the road. Nikolai took out his axe, before the sights of the Captial and beheaded the false knight. His head rolling off towards the lake, before being taken by another. I do not know what became of his head, but his body was left at the side of the road, as a message to the King d'Amaury. Instead, we made our way back to the Barony of Ostwick, to prepare ourselves for another likely battle. By which time, Ser Frederick had come out of his grief and called another Council meeting. Chapter 72: A Sacrilege! Redacted Artist, "His Holiness, Owyn II" (1605) Whilst I was caught within the intrigues of the Lotharingian Civil War, events were taking place outside of the Summer Kingdom. These events took place before the death of H.R.H Queen-Anna Sophia, but memory imposes upon me to mention them here. For on the wider world, there had been continual strain under the imperialistic ambitions of the Kingdom of Courland, which adds to the context of our plight. As previously mentioned, the Kingdom of Courland was at war with Mardon, which had declared itself an Independent Kingdom during the Great Northern War. After the Kingdom of Courland had brought the Kingdom of Hanseti-Ruska low, the imperialist minds of Courland decided to reclaim the duchy of Mardon, whose capital of Lorath sat on the edge of the Blackfen marshlands. This led to a lot of the Highlander forces and refugees to flock to Mardon. In the early months of 1606, the High Pontiff Owyn II, decided to negotiate on behalf of the refugees from the Kingdom of Hanseti-Ruska. His heart had become heavy when he saw the Courlanders treat the remaining refugees poorly, attacking them and and other simple folk without provaction, which likened to the imperialistic actions of the Holy Orenian Empire. The High Pontiff also sought to end the hostilities of the Kingdom of Courland against the Kingodm of Hanseti-Ruska once before, to negotiate the peace of the Northern refugees so they wouldn't be pursued wherever they go, which ended in the High Holiness being stabbed. In his second attempt, His Holiness attempted to negotiate a continued peace with Mardon and the safety of the people there, as well as the Hanseti-Ruskan refugees who had gone there. However, this came to no avail in the presence of the Lord Chancellor Frederick Staunton, who was as firm in his own views as the High Pontiff. He stated the High Pontiff was required to convert to the True Faith, which in itself was an impossible request, then to vassalise himself and Mardon under the Staunton Banners. Naturally, this was refused. But what happened next was what caught the attention of all Axios: Courlandic soldiers worked with the Undead to Kill the High Pontiff. This news brought unparalleled shock-waves over the Churches of Axios. The first of which was a Message from Mardon. The words were merely to spread the news of the events, and reply with a preemptive strike by Arthur Jrent 'The Colossal' against the Courlandic Forces, for vengeance to be had. The second came in the form of yet another Battle in Asul, in which the Mardonic and Highlandic soldiers attempted to honour and beatify the High Pontiff as a Saint, by slaying yet more Courlandic soldiers outside the gates of Aleksandria. During such attacks and raids, a young nobleman of the de Savin family was captured, before promptly being executed by Arthur Jrent himself in front of his soldiers. However, these victories came at the loss of two prominent Hanseti-Ruskan nobles, Lord Eirik Baruch & Lord Hughs Pasquier. May GOD grant them all rest. Chapter 73: Council's Tower Redacted Artist, "Ser Frederick Augustus Horen-Pruessen" (1610) After the death of Ser Bruce Hornigold, outside the gates of Metz, the majority of the Council went straight back to the Council room. As we arrived, we noted that Ser Frederick Augustus was sat within his chair, with the young Victoria-Maria Horen-Pruessen either on his lap or at his side. She was a spry young thing, who up until this point, had not received any formal education. Instead, she had spent the majority of her time within the Queen Anna-Sophia's Gardens, or within the small library near the chapel. Since I had known her, she had a fascination with the Court Wizard, Blundermore. She often followed him around like a small puppy would an adult. Cute, I suppose. During the council meeting, Ser Frederick Augustus Horen-Pruessen accepted the responsibility of the head of the Household, taking the title of Serene Prince of Pruvia. He rejected the title of King of Lotharingia, citing that he had no wish to continue the war with the Kingdom of Lotharingia, which would have been his to inherit following the Queen's untimely demise. We were all a little sceptical of this change-of-heart from the Prince. However, it could be seen as somewhat expected. Despite having a firm victory at Ostwick against the d'Amaury forces, it was clear that we were losing the support of the Mardonic forces, especially after the Marshal of Mardon had called for a Ceasefire with the Kingdom of Courland. On top of this, the "Self-Deterministic Pact" Alliance members, the Kingdom of the Westerlands and the Sultanate of Haria, began to order an investigation into the assassination of the H.R.H King Lothar I d'Amaury. This Lothar Commission demanded an audience with either sides of the Lotharingian Civil War and to let their investigators look into the death of the former King of Lotharingia. Soon enough, envoys and investigators from King Caius I of the West would likely descend on Ostwick, which could have been a difficult turn of events for the new Prince. Whatever happened to these investigations, I do not know, but no mention of them was ever mentioned again. As such, the Prince made it known that soon a peace would be made, and no actions to the contrary should be taken. He was not best pleased to learn of the Order to Kill Bruce Hornigold. A slight I don't believe he has ever really forgiven me for. Another piece of the agenda in that meeting was the tutelage and education of the young Victoria-Maria. It was agreed that the young girl would learn some martial combat with a sister of the Westerlands Order of the Seraphim, whom was a friend of the Serene Prince. However, in order to teach the young girl the ways of the court and of diplomacy, I was charged with her education. I did not see it as much of a problem, but for what was to come, I failed to appreciate how difficult long distances was to one's education. Indeed, I failed in that young girl's education, as far as I was concerned. Perhaps somewhat to blame for what was to happen to her. Chapter 74: A Strange Peace Redacted Artist, "Peter Sigismund, King of Mardon" (1609) On the 23rd of the Great Harvest, 1607, a Treaty was signed between the Kingdom of Courland and the Duchy of Mardon, ending the hostilities between the two sides of their own war. One might wonder why I often cite the Mardonic Independence war so closely with the Lotharingian Civil war. To those who would ask such a question, I would answer that our two wars were actually one in the same, despite their differing objectives. Despite the Duchy of Mardon wishing independence from the Kingdom of Courland, and the former Baroness of Ostwick once wishing to gain control of the Kingdom of Lotharingia, what both of these wars had was the same family name: Horen. One might call it some a "Horen-Dominence" war, where the dragons became tired of serving others and attempted to go their own way, together. What was significant about this treaty, for us few who held onto the Barony of Ostwick, was the second condition: This placed us into a precarious situation. We were now somewhat safe within the Barony of Ostwick, given that we would receive defensive aid from the Duchy of Mardon, but we would no longer receive their support for an offensive into the d'Amaury lands. We were now short on men, mina and resources. What then was the best thing to do in this particular situation? A White-Peace would have possibly been preferable, but bending the knee to the d'Amaury King would not have been a pleasant experience for the Prince. The same would go for a surrender, in which we would likely all lose our heads, or worse. A peace would look very strange. On the 19th of the Amber Cold, 1607, Peace was concluded with the Kingdom of Lotharingia and ourselves. Within a treaty that was authored by the Duke of Mardon, Ostwick would be ceded back to H.R.H King Odo d'Amaury, but the Blackfen Marshes and the Mountains that shielded the Barony of Ponce were taken in recompense. A region would be established that would be known as the 'Shield of Mardon', where those who had held onto the Barony of Ostwick would be allowed to travel to. In the same treaty, they made known that the Duchy of Mardon had captured a man who claimed that he was the one who killed H.R.H King Lothar I d'Amaury. You may think me callous for not speaking out against this, but if the fool were to brag of such, then a fool's death he did deserve. The Treaty left those of us in Ostwick feeling mixed feelings, having to lose the home we had made for ourselves under our Queen, but remaining in a barony that had been difficult to maintain was itself a problem. Politically, it was the best case scenario for our problem. We would be removed from the region, with our heads still on our shoulders, with a land to make our new home. A White-Peace with concessions. So, we moved our belongings and transfered the storage at the barony to a small house in the middle of Lorath, which was owned by the Serene Prince Frederick Augustus of Pruvia. No doubt that he would now be working on building this new 'Shield of Mardon'. Chapter 75: To those Remembered. Redacted Artist, "Death" (N.A) Whilst I was busily moving out the storage from the Barony of Ostwick the the Mardonic Capital of Lorath, I had a lot of time to think about how much we had lost in this endeavour, all the people we had lost. The first of which was the Lady Adrijana Amador, who had spent a great deal of time in the Barony, in the company of the Queen Anna-Sophia and the Lord Oan of Brevis. She had grown rather attached to them in light of the Lord Owyn Amador's actions with the short-lived republic of Carasca, losing a large portion of the Amador fortune in the process. She had gone out one day during the war and was attacked by men from the County of Cleves, coming back severely injured and having to spend a great deal of time in the care of various medical professionals. Such thoughts were in my mind since the news broke that H.R.H King Tobias Staunton had died, a man whom I personally respected, even if we were drawn on different sides of the line. May GOD, not by any division of faith, grant him rest. His death had thrown his first-born son, H.R.H King Joseph I Alexander Staunton, onto the throne. I have to admit that I had never met the man, but wished him all the best in the endeavours. His wife, Queen Lisette, would likely have the hardest time. Having to attend a Coronation of her eldest son, in the few days when her love had left this plain of existance to transcend to the skies above. These two deaths, different in many respects, placed a new-found emphasis within me. An emphasis on seeking a comfortable means to live out the rest of my own life. Throughout these memoirs, I had moved from St.Karlsburg to Mondstadt, Mondstadt to Ostwick & now Ostwick to Mardon. I am entering my fourth decade in this Axios, watching over my back for a dagger meant for me, unable to find any way to make the next few possible decades more comfortable. Only die-hard warriors dream about dying on the battlefield in glory. For people like me, we want to die of old age, surrounded by those who care about us. Who would care for me? Regardless, the Lady Adrijana Amador was transported to her Lord Husband in Lorath, with a noticeable scar from her attack. She required around-the-clock care that only the Lord Owyn could afford, and no doubt passed me that he would, for the sake of their children: Henrik, Ruslan and Diana. I spent many a day making sure that she would pull through whilst in Ostwick, it was a weight off my shoulders to know that she would be okay. Chapter 76: Schloss Hochspitze Redacted Artist, "Schloss Hochspitze" (1611) I remember the day I arrived at Schloos Hochspitze fairly well. . . If I recall correctly, I was in the company of another man and travelled to Schloss Hochspitze together. We were met with locked doors and high walls, where a Priest named Father Cristobel wandered, reading from some of the holy scripts. As he noticed us, he came down and unlocked the gates for us, allowing us into the Grand Hall. It has always been a small irk of mine to see Castles such as these enter straight into a grand hall. . . perhaps it was my time in Lotharingia that taught me differently about the layout of some keeps and castles, with notable mentions to the Castles at Metz, Ostwick and Chambery. Father Cristobel was a kind enough soul. He gave us a small tour of the castle, which he had already explored, as well as show us some of the work he was doing. As a preist of the Church of the Canon, he was required to write theses now and then. His latest one, A Thesis on Nationalism, was an interesting read. He argued that the victories saw by religions, such as the Church of the True faith, was due to the nationalistic zealotry of their populations. This strove them to fight as hard for their beliefs as much as those of other faithful denominations and churches. I would recommend that any learned man read from Father Cristobel's scrolls. Upon finishing the tour, I happened to meet the Serene Prince Frederick. His face was shallow and as unimpressed as usual. He stated on a whim that he would be making me the Chancellor of Schloss Hochspitze, as I had proven myself during my tenure as the Chancellor for the Queen Anna-Sophia in Ostwick. He then tossed me a set of keys which allowed me access to most rooms in the Castle, bar that of his own keep and hall. Naturally, I was honoured to take up the role and started work by shifting the storage in Lorath from his house to Schloss Hochspitze. Whilst doing so, the Prince chided me on the topic of trust. I protested that I had gained the trust of the Queen Anna-Sophia before him. He merely glared back and said coldly: Clearly, I would have my work cut out for me to try and impress upon the Serene Prince my loyalty to his family and that of the Amadors, likely he'd taken insult from the order to kill Ser Bruce Hornigold. Nonetheless, I believed that, if I had managed to convince a red-hot blooded woman like Queen Anna-Sophia to trust me, I could do the same with the Serene Prince. Just as I had done since I first began upon my diplomatic career. Communications would begin with a simple good deed. The Serene Prince soon ordered me to the throne room to give me an assignment. To begin gathering various souls around Axios and bring them to Hochspitze as Soldiers and Courtiers. Chapter 77: Building the Privy Council Redacted Artist, "Floris Van Loden" (1600) The task of building a population for Schloss Hochspitze, and thus the newly formed Principality of Pruvia, would contain both soldiers and courtiers to the Serene Prince, was no easy task. The Serene prince required people who would be able to advise him in nearly every field of expertise that was not initially his own, which in this case was the fields of mina-making, magic and knowledge. Fortunately, many of the previous Privy Council of Ostwick had also joined me in going to aid the Serene Prince Frederick. Blundermore Wind-Raker, for instance, retained his position as Court Wizard. Lady Alyssa Adelheid Amador, not wishing to join her brother, stayed on at hochspitze as its chief architect, but was given no voice on the council. During the next passing days, I wandered out into the world of Axios and attempted to recruit people where I could. The first and foremost in my thoughts, who I believed would help the Serene Prince a great deal, was the former Steward and Mayor of St.Karlsburg: Floris van Loden. He had a lot of skill in dealing with the administration of a realm, so I thrust sent him a letter, marked with only a black seal. The messenger was asked to search for the man and given a great deal of mina for his trouble. Soon enough, I had correspondence back from floris that he was interested in the job and would likely come within the next Saint's month, given preparations for travelling. Whilst waiting for Floris to arrive, I managed to gather a fair number within the walls of Schloss Hochspitze. One Juliana Blackwood, the once servant of the d'Anjous, was made a chef at Hochspitze. Her food was divine. I also met a Very elderly gentlemen by the name of Aldred, who was well versed in nearly every form on knowledge that there was to have. Although, he seemed to have some strange history with the Court Wizard, Blundermore. I have never really figured out what it was either man had against the other. But it did not seem to disrupt them from their own work. Some soldiers were also brought in to join the Serene Prince's ranks also, including one named Schofield, I believe. His sister now works as a maid within the halls. One may ask, why did I do all this work for a man who seemingly did not trust me nor like me all that much? Well, there were two simple reasons for this. The first and most obvious, was that despite our animosities, he was a member of the same family of that as the Lord Owyn. His Uncle by all accounts, so loyalty meant a lot to me in this regard. The second, and one which most will end up citing as my true reasoning, was a promise of land should my services prove to be useful to the Serene Prince. Being a landed nobleman had never really struck me as much of a prospect, on account of being celibate. However, should the line continue for my brother and his progeny, then a just reward it would be. Chapter 78: Star-Crossed Lovers Adrijana Amador, "Erin Locksley & Willem Van Loden" (1603) During my travels to try and recruit people to the newly formed Principality of Pruvia, I found myself within the Courlandic captial of Aleksandria. One would be mistaken if they believed that I would be stupid enough to recruit men and soldiers here, under the gaze of Courlandic soldiers and generals. Nein. I actually went over to Aleksandria to browse among the marketplace and find myself a new saddle, for my old one had become tattered and broken from the use it had seen during the Lotharingian Civil war. Whilst traversing those stalls, I happened across a familiar woman with dark hair, dressed in a farm-girl's attire and with large round eyes gazing upon me. It was Erin Locksley. Without too much time, I soon ended up being suffocated by the squeezing hug I would receive off of her. During all of the commotion with both the Great Northern War and the Lotharingian Civil war, I had not seen my dearest friend in such a long time. I oft thought that she had escaped across the sea to Carasca, or perhaps hidden herself up in the hinterlands, but never dead. Erin was too much the darling sweetheart and too attractive for the common soldier to think of killing her thoughtlessly. We embraced for what felt like a small moment, before I was led away by her into the imperial lands, towards the Dragur Library and just off the road. Erin had been spending her time in the South, in the middle of the former Imperial lands, where none had thought to either place up a castle or settlement for fear of disturbing greater nations. Here, she had built a small homestead, with a spinning mill and houses for her family, the Van Lodens. It was a pleasant place that was full of plenty and warmth. Off in the distance a small child was tending to the cows in the field and feeding the sheep as they brushed and nudged him. Erin had built herself a nice, quiet existance. What I would give to let all people have the same opportunity as she had done. To give everyone a piece of land to call their own, to farm and feed their own families. An Agrarian Society. I told Erin of such a dream, and complimented her on making it happen for herself. I don't think she understood completely where I was coming from, but she most definitely enjoyed the presence of my company again, just as I did with her. We sat in the mill and drank tea, as we had done once before in Laurenstadt. We reminiced about what happened and explained our own stories up to the point, from the moment she last saw heading for the Battle of Vasiland, to the present moment. All of which felt like a blur to me, in honesty. Instead, I merely watched her as she talked and drank in her words, I had missed her so very much and vowed to continue visiting her in the future. Chapter 79: Another Falls Redacted Artist, "H.R.H King Philip I Owyn d'Amaury" (1605). Back within the Kingdom of Lotharingia, things were not all well for the House d'Amaury. Whilst they had won a Civil war by being the last contender to be left standing, they had been stricken by more misfortune. The King Regent, Odo d'Amaury, was soon removed from power after the conflicts of Axios had subsided. This made way for the second-born son of the former King John I & Queen Charlotte of Alstion, H.R.H King Philip I Owyn d'Amaury, to succeed to the throne. He was a young adolescent who had spent a lot of time within his brother's court. I had seen him several times whilst I was there, usually playing with toys or the like. He was a young boy of some reasonable intelligence, like his brother before him, but I would argue less serious. Nonetheless, during his short tenure as King, H.R.H King Philip I did very little in his reign; only to see the end of the Lotharingian war as his generals and family huddled around him to keep him close. There are no records as such that link to any actions done on his part. However, it is by strange coincidence that we should find the same man who killed Ser Bruce Hornigold, who would then go on to kill a member of the House d'Amaury Royal family: a peasant man by the name of Nikolai Rykov. No doubt this the annals of history shall carry his name into the same list of King-slayers that I doubtless belong to, infamous for the actions he has taken against the Kingdom of Lotharingia. But to me, it is a strange poetic (even divine) justice/retribution., that the d'Amaury line should not have won the war. After the death of her second-born son, I have been told that the Queen Charlotte was left utterly indisposed, cuddling her remaining kin protectively. Whilst the former King Regent, Odo d'Amaury, took up the mantle once more. But this time, the mantle would not be of a regent, but that of a King. His action to do so was supported by the entirety of the Lotharingian Privy Council. I am told that H.R.H King Odo does not take too kindly of the responsibilities that have been placed upon him, but nonetheless thrown himself diligently into his work, particularly on the restoration of the capital at Metz and the rejuvination of the Kingdom of Lotharingia. A Competent King, I do hope. Chapter 80: Feast of St. Owyn Redacted Artist, "Lady Aloisa d'Amaury" (1611) Whilst I had been going about the lands of Axios, recruiting people to join the Principality of Pruvia, with promises of riches and wonders for those who worked hard, the Serene Prince had decided to throw a festival at Hochspitze. The festival would be to commemorate the Saint Owyn, containing a feast with all the landed gentry in the now Kingdom of Mardon, as well as the noble courtiers who had come seeking land and glory within the new kingdom. It fell upon me as the Chancellor to arrange the feast's provisions, as well as make sure there were enough seating and entertainment available for the festivities, whilst also organising the new staff in Schloss Hochspitze. Provisions were easily sorted by my connections through Erin Locksley, who provided us with all the raw food and drink that we could possibly have needed. This was then given to Juliana Blackwood, who worked tirelessly in the kitchens, cooking up the feast. Ser Nikola was in charge of the defences during the festivities, however he would spend his night feasting with the rest. The guests themselves were all appropriately dressed for the occasion, with some coming from all corners of the Tahn. One notable favourite of mine was the Knight, Ser Viktor Kovachev, who had decided to spend the night drinking until his belly was full and his heart was content. Unfortunately, the festivities were overshadowed by three events. The first was the frosty arrival of the Lord and Lady Amador by the Serene Prince, who was unimpressed by the actions of the Lady Adrijana in the last few days of the Lotharingian civil war, which I knew not of. This frosty reception put the House Amador on their toes during the festivities, with Lord Owyn Amador contemplating leaving all together. However, seated by the good Ser Viktor, this subsided. The second was the arrival of H.R.H King Peter's company, one Lady Aloisa d'Amaury, daughter of the Prince-Bishop of Metz. A d'Amaury in the hall. Lady Alyssa remarked that we should eat pancakes that night, a remark that earned only scorn from the Serene Prince and the King. I admit, I felt uncomfortable. But the final event was surely to be the most dramatic of the feast, for the Lord Owyn Amador, insulted by some manner of words said by his sister, the Lady Alyssa Amador, decided it best to strike out at her with his metal hand. She fell to the floor crying, with my brother Ayldan being quick to pick her up and take her out of the way. Lord Amador was arrested on the spot for disturbing the King's peace during the festival, removed to Lorath to face the King's judgement come the conclusion. As I believe, the gesture was made by Lord Owyn as to assert dominance over his usually unruly sister, though it grieved me to see it done all the same. I am told he received the King's and Prince's Pardon, but Lady Alyssa carried her bruise for the next saint's month. Read Book 1 Here! Read Book 7 Here! Book 9 is a W.I.P
  7. The Memoirs of Aylwin Blaxton - Book 7 Warning: NO META - These memoirs are OOC information until Aylwin Blaxton dies, then they will become common knowledge IC. Chapter 61: A Dinner at Ostwick Redacted Artist, "Lord Robert de Anjou" (1604) It has been a long time since I have put quill to parchment. A long time to feel safe in telling you all the true story that I am about to divulge. A lot has passed since these events, so too do I hope that I may now tell my version of events which led up to the Lotharingian Civil War, in the hopes of preserving the true nature of History. But, in order to do so, I must now take you back. Back to a time when I had just introduced my dearest friend, Blundermore, into these memoirs. By fortunate coincidence, as I had noted in my previous book, Robert de Anjou, Count of Cleves, had come to have dinner with the Princess Anna-Sophia, to discuss the upkeep of the Barony of Ostwick. During which time, the Queen had endowed praise upon me. Within the Lord Robert's Retinue was one Juliana Blackwood, a maid of fair skin and wide eyes, who served as the Lord's Servant at Cleves. There was also a member of his levy, whose name I admit I have forgotten, but who preferred to stand close to the Lord, rather than sit down at the nearby benches and enjoy the meal. Lastly, there was the Lord Robert's Son, who was rather flamboyant and rather outspoken at the dinner. So much so, the Lord Robert requested his son to make leave of the dinner, so not to spoil the serious nature of some of the talks we had. We covered a fair amount of topics that day, referring to the arrangement of a section of the Barony for the de Anjou Levy and the inclusion of several guest rooms around during the refurbishment. One might question why a de Anjou Levy was stationed at the Barony of Ostwick at all. To put it simply, the Princess Anna-Sophia was the vassal of the Lord of Cleves, in return for military protection of a Barony the size of a Dukedom. It was one of many reasons that would draw us into conflict. The meal ended amicably and the Lord Robert took his retinue back to Cleves. During which time, I had organised that the servants removed the table and begin refurbishment of the Palace interior, so to allow us to begin our large scale project to turn the Barony into a Palace fit for a Princess of Pruvia. If nothing else, this should prove to some that the road that we were about to tread was not one of complete premeditation, but rather one of gut-reaction. Chapter 62: Worthy Suitors Redacted Artist, "Lady Alyssa Adelheid Amador" (1606) Before I enter that particular topic, it was also at this point that Lady Alyssa asked me to one side. She had been present just a few hours after the dinner with the de Anjous' had been concluded. She was working as the Court Architect and was responsible for the large-scale refurbishment of the Barony, most of which was to please her own designs, such as the need for a Bathhouse and a spacious dining room. I cared very little, in truth. I only wished for the completion of the refurbishment in a timely and orderly fashion. My Brother, Ayldan Blaxton, had been spending the majority of his time at the Lady Alyssa's side, as her bodyguard. However, I couldn't help but detect there was a relationship growing there. . . Plutonic or Romantic, I didn't know. Regardless, the heavens poured down a deluge that night, as the Lady Alyssa spirited me away to the nearby gatehouse. I suppose she wanted her words away from the ears of her Mother, the Princess Anna-Sophia. Though for what reason, again, I know little. Lady Alyssa, in general, always tended to vex me in her own special way. Whilst under the Gatehouse, the Lady Alyssa asked if I knew of any suitors who might wish for her hand in marriage. Admittedly, I knew very few within the Kingdom of Lotharingia who would take her hand. Not out of any malice or outward appearances on her part, but rather that the Kingdom of Lotharingia had been suffering a severe stagnation, what with the delayed reconstruction of the Capital at Metz. I told her simply that I knew not of any suitor. She replied rather briskly to keep an eye out for any potential suitors, so long as they were of Viscount status or Above. Courteously, I took note of the offer that she wished to make for others and then we went our separate paths. With that being the end of the day's rather hectic schedule. I proceeded back to the Library tower, were I had made my own residence. If I remember correctly, I had cheese and wine for dinner that night, because the dream-scape later presented me with a rather horrid nightmare. The details of which I cannot remember, only that it kept me awake for that night. Looking back, it was probably a sign of darker things to come, but back then, I only vowed to never eat cheese after the sun-set. Chapter 63: Vipers in the Grass Redacted Artist, "John d'Amaury" (1598) The following day, we gained a rather unexpected entourage of people at the Barony of Ostwick. The Prince of Lotharingia, John d'Amaury, arrived with a jester called Clive. He had also brought with him a small levy with Lord Robert d'Anjou. Naturally, the Princess of Pruvia was just as shocked as I was at this rather unexpected and unannounced entrance to the Barony, to which she called everyone to enter the Throne Room. As we entered, I took a good long look at this jester alongside the Prince. I could have sworn that I had saw him before in some previous encounter, but I could not put my finger on where and when. It was the eyes, they just looked so demonic. It would have appeared, however, that the Prince of Lotharingia was there for nothing more than a social visit. Not that it was a visit that I would like to revisit in my memories. John d'Amaury was a scholarly soul, who was more obsessed with this books and papers, it would have seemed, than the welfare of his brother's subjects. Thoughout the conversation between the Prince, The Princess and the Lord, The Jester taunted myself and my brother. He made jests of the Highlandic people and mocked their existance, much to the delight of the Prince of Lotharingia and my growing frustration. A frustration which was also seemingly felt by the Princess and the Lord of Cleves. The Prince of Lotharingia soon after came into the reasoning of his visit. He wished to see a list of names of those who had made the Barony of Ostwick their residence. As such, I present the Princess of Pruvia a register, detailing the people, occupations and residence within the Barony. The Prince seemed pleased enough to read it, though it came with yet more indirect insults. I do not remember the encounter favourably in the slightest. However, the Prince soon took his leave, along with his damnable Jester. Once he did so, the Lord Robert de Anjou of Cleves proceeded to climb the steps to the Princess' throne, as the Princess soon dismissed all those present, bar myself and the Lord Robert. Chapter 64: Dark Intent Redacted Artist, "Iblees Corrupts" (N.A) There was hushed tones and whispers which surrounded the Princess Anna-Sophia's ears soon after. Lord Robert de Anjou, disgusted by the display made by the Prince of Lotharingia, began to cite several issues that he had been encountering whilst under the control of the House d'Amaury. Among the top of the list was the noted absence of the King's actions in running the Kingdom, leaving it much like a withering cadaver to the prey which likely surrounded them. The peasants that had once sewn the wheat in the fields and collected their harvest were non-existant in many parts of the realm, as if a foul pestilence had carried them off into a dark abyss. The Princess of Pruvia concurred with the majority of the Lord Robert's words. She, herself, was not pleased with the current state of affairs within the realm. She had worked tirelessly back in Metz, trying her best to do with what she had. But no council was ever raised to consult the Nobles on the state of the realm, nor was any message sent, nor any word given. It would have felt like they were working for naught but a dead state, where there would be no address for any grievances, not without the potential ridicule which they had just witnessed. However, the Princess intervened in her own words, questioning what could be done about the issue. Lord Robert de Anjou suggested the means: A Coup d'etat. At this moment, I was merely listening on the conversation and offering advice to the Princess when she wished it. But the Princess and the Lord soon found themselves in a dire conflict of their own. They could not agree on what should come next. They agreed that the capital needed completing, in order to bring back a population to Metz and Lotharingia. They also agreed that there needed to be a strong, nationalistic army. However, they could not agree on who to place on the throne. For you see, Lord Robert had ambitions to crown himself King. Naturally, I protested. The House d'Anjou was a upstart house, only recently given lands and titles. Though a weak claim, the Princess' claim as a part-Horen granted her a stronger claim to the throne. Lord Robert did not take too kindly to this remark, stating that the Princess should not let her own ambition cloud her judgement, before leaving the Throne room. I say it now, he was a hypocrite, for it was his ambition that began a chain of events that became unstoppable. Chapter 65: Staunton Aid. Redacted Artist, "Lord Marshal Louis de Felsen" (1610) So, here now, we are presented with a dilemma: Two Vassals, One of the Military and One of the Mina, both laid claim to the Throne of Lotharingia. One way or another, the Young King Lothar I of Lotharingia was going to die, but by whose blade? Given the state that the realm was in, thanks in part to his salutary neglect of the Kingdom, the Princess of Pruvia was unwilling to present damning evidence to the King Lothar. She feared that doing so would incite a Civil War. One that they would likely lose, given that the Lord of Cleves held most of the active military in the Realm, since the Knights of the Kingdom seemed to be more concerned with the growing conflict between the Kingdom of Courland and the Realm of Mardon. However, nor could the Princess of Pruvia stand idly by and bend the knee again to the Lord of Cleves, as she believed that his own ambition would lead to a military state. She did not want that either. Lord Robert de Anjou clearly wanted nothing more than to sit on the Throne of the Lotharingia, but what would come after that? She did not believe that he would have been as diligent as herself in restoring the Kingdom of Lotharingia to it's rightful place among the warring state of Axios. Instead, Lord Robert de Anjou would have likely sat on the throne and done the same action as that of the King Lothar I, instituted a unwritten policy of salutary neglect. There was only one course of action available to the Princess of Pruvia; She had to take action before the Lord Robert did. With that being the case, she dispatched me to the Kingdom of Courland's Capital, Aleksandria. I was to talk to the King on the matter of gaining either Military support, or to gain a blank cheque that no aggression would be taken if we were to Kill the King of Lotharingia. My actions were unfortunately stopped by the Lord Marshal of Courland, Louis de Felsen, who felt spurned that I would not divulge my secrets to himself. He refused me entry to Curonberg Castle, which left me to get creative in gaining the King's audience. I therefore met a young lad with Black hair that shone like the ink of the squid, who was named Abdel. Using him knowledge of the City, I passed Abdel a message to give to the King. Given the spry nature of his build, he was able to gain access to the keep. He must have given the message, for soon I was able to see the King. Upon entering the palace, H.R.H King Tobias Staunton greeted me warming and swiftly led me to one side, where we might discuss. I got straight to the point, King Lothar I was a sickly and stale king, but his death and replacement may have caused other kingdoms to stir. When I presented the King with the two options of military aid or military neutrality, the King responded thus: From this, the King had made clear that no military intervention within Lotharingia would take place, instead wishing a level of neutrality with what was about to transpire within the Kingdom of the d'Amaurys. With this news, I travelled back to the Barony of Ostwick and delivered the news to the Princess of Pruvia. The news was received with a lukewarmness, shadowed by a bitterness for what was to come. Chapter 66: Regicide Redacted Artist, "King Lothar I d'Amaury" (1603) The plan was set. The King of Lotharingia would come to the Barony of Ostwick, under the guise that we required royal assent before we turned the Barony of Ostwick into a palace. The Princess of Pruvia and I discussed the plan at great length, along with it's subsequent contingencies. Should the King have arrived with an armed host, as we might have aspected, then we would come clean about the Lord Robert de Anjou's intrigue to replace the King in a Coup d'etat. Naturally, this was not the goal that we wished for, since the King would likely slip back into a rule of salutary neglect. However, it would have given King Lothar I a chance to change his ways. To our surprise, the King did not come with an armed escort. He arrived alone, in person. As such, the formalities were given at the gatehouse and we proceeded to lead him up to a tower in the North-West Section of the Baron, as the main dining hall had been scrapped for refurbishment. Maple and Honey-covered pancakes were served up for H.R.H King Lothar I and the Princess of Pruvia, along with glasses of wine, near an ember-lit fireplace. The King seemed pleased with the hospitality of the hold, so I then presented him with quill, ink and parchment for the Royal assent of refurbishment. He saw no reason to do otherwise and signed the document without hesitation. The document was signed, the King was eating, myself behind him with a red-hot poker to build the flames of the fire. I added several logs into the flames, staring at them as I prepared to do the unthinkable. Unsheathing a simple dagger, I turned around and with a single action slit the throat of the King. The Princess of Pruvia was horrified by the seen, even though it was she and I who planned for this to happen. She knocked me out of the way, taking the dying King into her arms, cradling him as he slipped into the Seven Skies. I dusted myself off of the floor and took back the dagger. What possessed me to do this? What led me to commit Regicide? I suppose, if nothing else, it was loyalty. Loyalty to the Family. I informed the Princess that she knew it would have come to this, attempting to reason with her that the actions we had taken would prevent Lord Robert de Anjou from seizing power for himself, but only if we acted off of these events. She was shaking like a leaf. . . Even though she knew it was coming, I don't think she mentally prepared herself. I hovered over the carcass of the King, took of the King's Lotharingian Pin-Cross, before burning his body in the fireplace. Later that night, I would wait for the embers to cool, before removing the ashes and placing them in the ash-pit of the Barony. He was a good king whilst he had his country; young, sickly, he had lost his grip on power. May the Gods Grant H.R.H King Lothar I de Amaury his rest. Chapter 67: A Coming Storm Redacted Artist, "Arthur Jrent" (1605) Soon after the King was dead, the Princess of Pruvia sent a Proclamation to the Lords of Lotharingia. In which, she styled herself as Her Royal Majesty, Anna I Sophia of House Horen-Preussens, by the Grace of GOD, Queen of Lotharingia, Princess of Pruvia, Duchess of Lorraine, Countess of Ostwick and Summerhall, Warden of the South. House Horen-Pruessen. I had to admit, it did sound good. However, the proclamation did very little to aid us within our own Coup d'etat to sieze the Kingdom. Likely, by this hour, the remaining member of House d'Amaury would have been wondering what had happened to their King. Now the flow of information by this proclamation had allowed them to come to their own conclusions. Indeed, with the news they had recieved from this Proclamation, they sent out a Missive of their own. In which they ordered the crown to have passed onto the King's younger brother, H.R.H King Philip Robert. It called on Lord Robert especially to swear fealty. Without a doubt, Civil war was now on it's way. We now found ourselves in a strange scenario come the passing of 1608. The Kingdom of Mardon and the troops that had been stationed there, in defence from the attacks of the Kingdom of Courland, now sought to aid us in our fight. H.R.H King Peter I of Mardon, himself a Horen, seemed to feel honour-bound to protect a fellow Horen. This brought a tremendous amount of unexpected military muscle to our side. Among them appeared three unlikely aids: Lord Augustus Reinhardt Von Schlichten of Chambery, A Lord of Lotharingia who sympathised with our plight. Arthur Jrent, a military man of Mardon. Ser Bruce Hornigold, the misguided knight of the Kingdom of Lotharingia. And Prince Frederick Augustus, the Queen Horen-Pruessen's brother. Their own motivations remained unclear to me, expecially that of Jrent and Hornigold, who I attempted to keep an eye on. Each had offered to bring men to the upcoming war, which could have come not a moment too soon. Whilst Prince Frederick Augustus had arrived early, he had gone out again to recruit more men. This left the Privy Council and the now-Queen of Lotharingia in charge of the Barony of Ostwick, with only a skeleton force with which to defend it. Things got all the more complicated, whilst the Queen had been spending efforts to contact various factions that would support her, the Lord of Cleves arrived with an armed host. Much to our surprise, he claimed that he had come to bend the knee to the new Queen of Lotharingia, Anna-Sophia Horen-Pruessen. We were all skeptical, and bid that he bring himself in through the gates with only one bodyguard, leaving the rest of his force outside. Chapter 68: Eternal Vows Redacted Artist, "Vows" (N.A) The forces outside were watched by a small levy on the gatehouse as the Lord Robert de Anjou and his bodyguard were searched for weapons and armour, keeping an eye on the events, as no Lord wishing to bend the knee to you would do as the Lord Robert of Cleves had done. Regardless, the Queen Anna-Sophia took the Count at his word, so we thus proceeded towards the chapel. The reasoning we held was simple, any vow made in a throne room may be broken to that man's dishonour, however, it was another thing to break an oath of fealty to a liege before the sight of GOD. This added pressure on the Lord Robert de Anjou, as he well knew it. At either end of the Alter, The Queen Anna-Sophia and Count Robert de Anjou of Cleves made an oath of fealty, with Count Robert swearing to come to the aid of his Queen and to administer her laws in the Kingdom of Lotharingia. I, Myself, conducted the ceremony, in the absence of any priest or clergy. The Witnesses to the Oath included the Court Wizard, Blundermore Wind-Raker, and my brother, Ayldan Blaxton. Sunlight beam down from the stained-glass windows of the church, reflecting a cross upon the pair. Perhaps a divine sign of things to come or not. Regardless, the Oath was accepted by the Count of Cleves to the Queen Anna-Sophia, before the sight of GOD. However, whilst all this was happening, there was a clear tension that echoed around the Chapel. Removed from their Count, the soldiers outside were becoming more and more restless, with shouts and mutters alike resonating from them. This was matched by the actions of the bodyguard, who only seemed to grow more and more nervous as the ceremony went on. It was starting to become clear that they intended to try some action, but then, what could be done? We ourselves could not do much but bide our time until the forces of Arthur Jrent were to arrive, as we could not have held off the de Anjou levy outside the gates. Taking the Count Hostage would have been futile, as well I knew. Chapter 69: Battle at Ostwick Redacted Artist, "Assault on Ostwick" (1609). Moments after the ceremony was concluded, the Prince Frederick Augustus entered the chapel. He demanded that the Count be arrested for inciting rebellion amongst his men, outside the Barony's gates. This seemed somewhat expected, but what was required there after was space and time. The Queen knew it too. She ordered the Count of Cleves to exit through the main gates and calm his soldiers, declaring openly to them that he would side with the Queen Anna-Sophia of Lotharingia. We knew, however, that this was unlikely to be the case. Indeed, the Count shouted 'NOW!' to his troops, and a siege begun. Soldiers began to storm the gatehouse and use hatchets to break at the gate. The Gatehouse was quickly locked down, forcing the de Anjou levy to fight through the gates. Subsequent gates were additionally locked on the way towards the Keep. With her Privy Council, the Queen Anna-Sophia went to the Throne-room balcony, where we sat and waited. Waiting for the de Anjou force to storm the first and second gates. Whilst this action surrendered control of the keep, it allowed us to move along the Wall of Ostwick towards the Front gate, exiting without any resistance. Foolish of them not to leave a small guard force to defend what they had taken, but ingenious of the Queen Anna-Sophia nonetheless! Once outside, we met beyond the bridge with those of the Mardonic forces, commanded by Arthur Jrent. We laid Ostwick to siege, the de Anjou levy stuck within our own walls. Volleys of arrows fired too and fro the gatehouse and its surrounding towers. Though the superiority of numbers, Mardonic forces, with Ser Bruce Honigold at the lead, broke through the gatehouse and dispatched the traitors. Lord Robert de Anjou managed to escape capture, fleeing to the Capital of Metz. With the Victory at Ostwick, the Queen Anna-Sophia returned and thanked Ser Bruce Hornigold and Arthur Jrent for their timely intervention. Ser Bruce replied with a stirring speech to his soldiers, declaring to them that there would be more battles to come, but today, madness had it's day. Chapter 70: Lost Cause Redacted Artist, "Caricature Painting of Ser Bruce Hornigold" (1608) The writing was on the wall. The House de Anjou had sided with the House d'Amaury, much to my bemusement that Lord Robert, who had started this intrigue, should decide to then move forward to support that which he wished to replace. Clearly, he must have felt great injury that we had stolen his ambition from him, forcing him into the position where he must either stake his own claim or reinforce that of the d'Amaurys'. He would not have gone to move his own claim, as he had none. His betrayal was all-together expected, though not wished. We might have won a great victory at Ostwick, but it also came at yet another price. Soon after the battle, Ser Bruce Hornigold requested a private audience with the Queen Anna-Sophia in her throne room. It would have appeared that the Knight of Lotharingia had been conflicted about joining our side of the war and wished to know the truth about how the King died. Allow me to put this plainly, Ser Bruce Hornigold did not witness the death of H.R.H King Lothar I. He was not present and claims otherwise are false. Once he found out from the Queen, he found her cause to be unsatisfactory, attempting to attack her there and then. Unable to inflict any bodily harm onto her, and realising the danger he had placed himself in, he attempted to escape Ostwick and succeeded in doing so. His lies there after were a play from an ambitious Knight who himself wished to sit on the Throne. But, naught a few days after that incident, Mardonic men were swayed more that Ser Bruce Hornigold should be King, rather than the Queen Anna-Sophia. A Two Way Civil War turned into Three: Hornigold Loyalists, Horen Loyalists and D'Amaury Loyalists. The situation had become dire indeed. Rumours abounded that the King of Lotharingia was willing to seek peace if it placed Ser Bruce Hornigold on the throne, but the Queen Anna-Sophia would hear none of it, as she believed the Knight to be no better than the Count of Cleves. For now, there was a strange form of stalemate, with neither side seeming to be willing to attack the other. But a few days after the events at Ostwick, the Queen Anna-Sophia was walking down the path from the main gatehouse towards the keep. She was attacked by Assassins, one of which was Ser Bruce Hornigold. Her body lay bleeding on the floor of the Barony, before being placed in an ornate coffin and placed within the chapel for burial. I remember her fondly now as the 'Queen who never was' and a damn good Queen she was too. She'd have been exactly what the Kingdom needed. Read Book 1 Here! Read Book 6 Here! Read Book 8 Here!
  8. Minecraft Name: MarquisAlex Ban Reason: X-Raying Individuals Involved: GM - @Wrynn Event Details: I used an X-Ray Resource Pack to collect coal from the public mines at Cloud Temple over the last two days. I was using the coal to smelt stone for constructing Brabant, my new holding in Pruvia. I had been told previously that players were allowed to use mods, so I didn't believe an x-ray client for coal would be bannable. Wrynn caught me using the X-Ray client and I confessed openly that I had been using it, expressing the same opinion. He showed me the rules to clarify and I offered to delete the x-ray resource pack on the spot. He refused, stating that a punishment needed to be given. I asked if I could be given leniancy for being open about the misunderstanding. I was refused again, as bans are set timers. I am now banned for 30 days. Why should you be unbanned?: This is my first offence on the server, I have never caused any other offence. I have been a dedicated and loyal member of the community and I have never caused any OOC issue or given any staff member a hard time. I have several people who would vouch for this dedication to the community. I see the argument placed forward by the GM Wrynn. I am not challenging his judgement and would accept the 30 day ban. I'm Sorry. This appeal is an appeal for leniancy. Additional Comments: I have since removed the resource pack from my client, I hope this image is proof enough.
  9. +1 from me
  10. Aylwin Blaxton looks over the Terms of Release issued by House Ruthern. As his dark eyes scan through those said terms, his face is left somewhat contorted and saddened; annoyed that his letter to the Dunamis was either ignored or failed to reach their leader in time. The offer on the table was, somewhat, an Olive Branch to the King of Courland. However, it would come at the cost of allies and numbers which the Kingdom arguably required to fight a war. There was no mention of how events might shape beyond this. Were they to comply, the Kingdom of Courland would be left to defend itself, provided the House Ruthern and its Allies intended on marching to war regardless of this outcome. The Queen and Queen-Dowager were now at the mercy of the Rutherns, who would labelled them as 'Prisoners of War'. Two Females who had previous spent several days reportedly in a Sky-cell. They would now be subjected to the Jeers and Torments of Enemy Soldiers, much like the Princess Annabel Staunton-Hearth before them. Dark Days Were Coming.
  11. Aylwin Blaxton, a Highlander diplomat and Chancellor under the service of the Prince Frederick Augustus Horen-Pruessen, furrows his brows as he reads of the capture of two members of the Courlandic Royal Family. He remembers a similar situation that formed not long into the Northern War, where a Courlandic Princess was given little of the respect deserving of Royalty, instead being goaded by soldiers and threatened with execution in a similar fashion. Enemies though they may be to some, few deserve the torment of a sky cell or to be blamed for the crimes of another. Upon this, he pens a letter to the Dunamites, hoping his connections of mutual friends may reach them: "To the Brave men who captured the Members of the Courlandic Royal Family, I write to you with the sincerest of requests: refrain from the execution of the Noble Ladies of House Staunton. As a Highlander and man of Lower Birth than some of the High Lords that play games in this Axios, I place an esteem and value upon Respect, not least of all is the respect to the Nobility. I understand from the rumours about Tahn that you are a mercenary group, who were in the process of being hired by H.R.H the King of Courland, but offered a meagre sum for your worth. I understand the anger that may have been felt by this spur on your own honour, which may have prompted you to capture the Queen Dowager and the Princess of Courland. Injustice has been carried out by H.R.H the King of Courland, the Queen-Dowager's Son, not Herself. The same is true for that of the Princess, whose only crime it to be related to a King that has failed to maintain his Father's Peace. One rash action by a King does not justify a rash action by yourselves. The Queen-Dowager and her Daughter-in-law hold intrinsic Value which can be capitalised upon, with which you can walk from this affair without blood on your hands, but with bags of minae instead. I, therefore, offer to also pay for the Ransom on the Queen-Dowager and the Princess. The Price can be discussed. Highest Regards, Aylwin Blaxton. Chancellor of Schloss Hochspitze, Diplomat of Humanity." ((Message me in Skype: fabledatlon, or find /msg me on MarquisAlex))
  12. The Memoirs of Aylwin Blaxton - Book 6 Warning: NO META - These memoirs are OOC information until Aylwin Blaxton dies, then they will become common knowledge IC. Chapter 51: Exodus Redacted Artist, "Exodus" (1604) It's been a while since I have put my quill back to the parchment of my Memoirs. Lady Adrijana's seizure had definitely set me back as I stood idly outside her bedchamber, day in and day out, watching that she did not overly exert herself or stress. Though who could blame her? We were outcasts, refugees, given shelter only on the whim of the Princess. H.R.H Princess Anna-Sophia Horen-Pruvia had a kind heart to allow the refugees from Mondstadt to remain at Ostwick, provided that we made ourselves useful, whilst we waited for word of the Lord Owyn Amador and/or any other casualties of the War. Nothing had been heard, with only a sparse few individuals making it to Ostwick. Hope wasn't high. Ayldan, my own and only brother, was M.I.A. It was then that I received word of an unthinkable event. An Exodus of the Highlandic people from the Kingdom of Haense, across the perilous sea, to the Republic of Carasca. The refugees hoped that, by doing such a deathly deed, they'd escape the horrors of a Courlandic-held Hanseti-Ruska. Within me, an uneasiness stirred. These were my people. My people. Feeling forced that they do the impossible so that they may escape persecution and death. How many would lose there lives on this Journey? How many would sacrifice themselves just to see another spared from the Courlandic yoke? But the most important question that plagued, not just my mind, but my soul; How could GOD, the Four Prophets, the Saints ignore this? I felt my heart drop. Had GOD abandoned us? If so, why? Had we been wrong? Overcome by this frozen feeling of being forsaken, alongside being moved by the desperation of my people's diaspora to Carasca, I travelled into the chapel within Ostwick. I must have spent hours within GOD's house, overcoming the quietness of the empty pews with a solemn and heartfelt Prayer. Nothing. Not a sign. Not a sound. Nothing. I proceeded to climb the steps to Ostwick's tallest tower, spending time outside, on the balcony. I continued reciting my prayer, over and over. Shouting it at times as the wind whipped against my face and the rain drenched me through. Shivering, with the raindrops hiding my zealous tears, I feared greatly for what our future would hold. It was like my faith was slipping from me, like a barrel with a leak, allowing the water to flow out like a wound. I needed a sign. Chapter 52: Refuge Redacted Artist, "Paradise?" (1604) After spending several days in prayer, often outside the balcony of the aforementioned tower, I had practically given up hope. I spent my time either performing menial tasks around the Barony or skulking around the parapets of the walls. As I did so, I looked around the place that I was starting to make home. The sun's rays shined down upon the red roofs of the Barony, with a sound of the waterfall behind it echoing down the corridors and walls, creating a scene of some natural beauty that I found some meagre comfort in, despite the dark feelings I felt. It was hard to think that this castle was once the bridgehead that would have launched the Kingdom of Courland against the Empire of Oren, a Kingdom which would later be the belligerent force in the Northern War. It was whilst I was surveying the land around Ostwick that I begun to hear a voice on the wind. A Voice that Called my Name. Was it Him? Was it Them? Constantly, it called my name. Naturally, I began to follow the voice to find the source, which gradually got louder and louder. Eventually, I found the source beneath the parapets of the princple tower of Ostwick. What? It was Leofrik Farsight. What was he wearing? He was dressed in a simple linen tunic, nothing like the Hanseti armour we once wore, nor the skins or furs we used to keep warm. He stated there and then that he had come for me; He had come to take me to a good and pleasant land beyond the sea, to Carasca. I asked him there and then that if he was one of them, one who had travelled the sea to Carasca. He had. I persisted, querying if our people had made it across the sea. They had. All of them? Yes, All of them. I looked out to the Horizon, my heart lifted. The Highlanders had made it. They were now in a safer place. The sun began to softly caress my cheek like a small child, the warmth from the summer winds building on the wallowed look of my face. I felt reassured. GOD and his own had listened. He had safely delivered them across a treacherous sea and into a place where they could be safe. I felt eager to join Leofrik, but then a familiar sense of uneasiness stirred. . . But at what price? If this had been his plan, what then was his plan for me? If I had gone, would I merely be tempting fate for the waves to take both me and the young Farsight to a watery grave? I turned to Ostwick. No, I thought, He wants me here. I told Leofrik I would not be going with him, to which he protested a great deal. But No. He wants me here. I only needed another sign to prove it, and soon enough I would have it. Chapter 53: An Offer Adrijana Amador, "Ostwick in Stained Glass" (1600) Some hours after Leofrik had left, I found myself in the Tower Library once more, attempting to collect my thoughts as I sat at my usual writing desk. In front of me was the memoirs you now see before you, with the quill in the ink-pot, with a very small pile of books and letters next to it. My hands rested my forehead in the palms, rocking it ever so slightly, back and forth. It did little use, so soon I was leaned back in the wooden frame of the chair and looking outside the window, to the stars outside. Perhaps then I was willing GOD to show me some sign, to validate me in my own thoughts. Am I mad? I thought. No, surely not. The sound of clicking heels could be heard behind me, approaching up the staircase, towards the library floor. As I turned around, H.R.H Princess Anna-Sophia came up the staircase. She professed that she had been concerned of my recent absence. I did not make known to her then of my own thoughts, concerning the Highlander Diaspora, nor Leofrik's arrival to Ostwick. I felt that these concerns were mine to bare. To share them with her would probably have only made H.R.H worry about her own absentee son, or even question my sanity, which I too was also debating within me. Nonetheless, after she had been somewhat assured that I had been busy tending to some minor duties, she made known her intention for seeking me that night. Having worked diligently for the Lord Owyn Amador for most of my career, gaining a reputation as a competent envoy and diplomat, she had come to offer me a position in the Barony. And not just any position; She offered me the job of Chamberlain, the most senior organisation office of administrating the Barony. This was His sign. His sign that he wanted me to stay. I felt emboldened by it, but now conflicted, I had spent a great deal of time working with the Lord Owyn and his family. GOD be Good, I had even garnered a favourable relationship with the Lady Adrijana, who needed all the support she could get at the moment. I told the Princess of these hesitations to leave the Lord Owyn's side, to which the Princess rebuffed: It would hardly be a crime of desertion to serve the Mother of my Lord, I would still be serving the family. I remained uncertain, so I begged time to consider the offer and talk to others, to which she granted me the Acting position of Chamberlain until I had decided. She then left demurely, as I stood there looking back out towards the Night sky. This is Your Will? Chapter 54: Fever Redacted Artist, "Refugee" (N.A) My eyes felt heavy. My body felt weak, sometimes hot to the touch. Unbeknown to myself, I had actually driven myself ill with a terrible fever over the past few days. Tossing and turning upon my bed-sheets, unable to get comfortable, I would often go back out onto the tower balcony or even sit at my desk once more. I would eventually fall asleep at my chair or rarely manage sleep in the bed. The constant hot-flashes left me a little dizzy in my thoughts, unable to keep a straight thought for much longer than a few moments. It was during such a mood that I found myself in the Throne room of Ostwick, clothed in my normal armour, in an attempt to cool myself down. It didn't work. Lady Adrijana soon entered the Throne Room, herself looking a little haggard from lack of sleep, both from her own stress and for caring over the Children: Henrik and Ruslan Amador. In her hands, she was clasping onto a painting frame, with its back faced towards me. I rose a brow, as she walked my way with petit footsteps and passed the painting over to me. To my surprise, she had created a Portrait of myself. Apparently, during the few times that I had spent guarding her, she had taken it upon herself to paint my figure, then dress me in a peculiar Court Attire. Attire that would have suited a diplomat of House Amador. I queried, why she had made this for me? Her eyes gazed down towards the tiles of the Princess' Court, confessing that she had seen me as a family figure, away from the family that she once knew. She felt that, for all the kindness that I had given her through the Lord's relationship with her, she needed to pay back that kindness. It was a humbling moment. She then noted the strange look upon my face, after saying thank you to her, enquiring why did I then look so strange. Feeling confident that she would understand my thoughts, given the fact that she herself was also a Highlander and a Canonist Faithful, I told her of my experiences over the past week or so. She was not amused. Soon, Lord Oan arrived, giving me a similar medical check-over that had been given to Lady Adrijana once before. The pair of them soon took me down to cellars, near an open stream to cool me. It would appear that, during my prayers and nights on the tower balcony had given me hallucinations, driven by an underlying fever that I had contracted. Lady Adrijana, feeling I was now in good care and company, left me with Oan. Whom escorted me outside to cool down further by swimming in the nearby lake. It would appear, that during that time, Leofrik had come back to Ostwick. He must have said something to upset H.R.H Princess Anna-Sophia and Lady Adrijana, because neither of them looked happy as they talked to him. Chapter 55: Godfather Redacted Artist, "A Writing Desk" (N.A) Recovering from the fever that I had contracted, Lord Oan had set me a strict diet and bid me exercise regularly in the nearby lake, in hopes of avoiding anymore delusions. Hallucinations or not, I felt that GOD was still sending me a clear message, a message which still lingered in the back of my thoughts. I merely tamed these thoughts, attempting to gain back the reins of my life and return to some level of normality. I began to shift through my papers, and organise the Library and Barony. There was a lot to do. The entire Barony needed a serious refurbishment, with some rooms still baring the names of some former residents of Ostwick, like H.R.H King Tobias Staunton. Gosh, he had a nice room. Whilst organising this colossal task, the familiar sound of heels clicking up the steps was heard. Turning my head, I found that this time it was not the Princess, but rather Lady Adrijana. She had come to check how I was feeling, given my recent fever. Satisfied that I was making good progress recovering, we began discussing what we had left off in the Throne Room, that being that she wished me to be named as the Young Henrik and Ruslan's Godfather. An honour to be sure, but informed her that if she did, they would have a hard time without me. She seemed puzzled, until I outlined my desire to stay in Ostwick. Lady Adrijana was saddened by the news, stating that she didn't know how she would cope without me being close, so much so that she began to cry. I attempted to comfort her the best I could, but it didn't work very well, so I reluctantly said that I would follow the Lady Adrijana. She brightened up a little, explaining that she needed me close, since Owyn had been so detached from her recently. Apparently, Leofrik had come to Ostwick to indeed whisk me away to Carasca, but it was on the Lord Owyn's wish. In that same sentence, it upset Adrijana that she had only summoned me and not him, so to some extent, she was glad that I refused him. In retaliation, I stated that I was also very mad that the Lord Owyn Amador had not come to Ostwick and talk to us, comfort us that he was actually alive. I was also sour with the fact that he had left myself and Adrijana out of the loop, not providing us with plans of moving to Carasca until Leofrik was informed to collect me. Lady Adrijana shared my concerns and stated that she planned to bring them up the the Lord, but attempted to reassure me that she had conversed with him recently and he was attempting to do his best, though his best was very distant from the communication needed. She left soon on that note and left me to my work. Perhaps I would be staying with the Amadors after all, instead of just working for the Princess in Ostwick. Chapter 56: Death of another Redacted Artist, "Ecclesiastical Synod of 1603" (1603) The Death of H.H Owyn II, High Pontiff of the Canonist Church happened during the mid-summer months of Axios. H.R.H Princess Anna-Sophia Horen-Pruvia had called a meeting within the Throne Room of all those present in the Barony at the time, which had included myself, Oan, Ladies Alyssa & Adrijana and the Medic called Gael. She announced to the Court, with a letter in her hand that the High Pontiff had been struck down by a lich, aided by Courlandic troops. The news must have caused shockwaves in every corner of Axios, where the Canonists faith had still held strong, particularly here in Lorraine, the Westerlands and in the Republic of Carasca. No doubt about it. My own reactions were one of disgust, yet another diplomat had been killed in cold blood, but this was far more significant. What must the Courlandic troops be thinking, to allow themselves to work with a Lich, an Undead? Either the Church of the True Faith truly had no moral compass, or these servants of Courland and the Faith were dimmer than the candle-light I now work with. By such an action, the Church of the True Faith had made themselves out to be somewhat heretical in their own stance with the Undead, whilst also disillusioning all of Humanity. The entire situation made me physically ill. It was not made easier that H.H Owyn II was a Highlander I had known: Rory, Bishop of St. Karlsburg. There was much commotion in the Throne Room over it, to be sure, all sharing my same disgust. But my thoughts went instead, oddly, to H.R.H King Tobias Staunton. Surely, he would not have been mad enough to ordain such an attack, nor would the high priesthood (heretics as they are) I would have imagined. No, they may be heretics, but they are not stupid enough to do such a thing. This action was either done with some level of idiocy on the part of the soldiers, or a co-ordinated attack by rivals within to taint Courland's banner all the more. For what rhyme or reason, I can only speculate. A New High Pontiff would be anointed, apparently, in the Republic of Carasca. GOD bless the man who takes up the charge, for it seems there is a target on his back. Chapter 57: The Bridge between Two Worlds. Redacted Artist, "Annebelle Farsight" (1600) As was expected, the outcry from the aforementioned attack on the Former High Pontiff had created a diplomatic backlash, most notably from the Duchy of Mardon. In two separate documents, the Duke of Mardon called for Vengence. The news had spread like wildfire does to the parched forests of the south, consuming the marketplaces of Lorraine with gossip of the matter and how the other Canonists powers should strike back at Courland, for this affront to their religious values and beliefs. I found very little comfort in the words, to be honest. The Kingdom of the Westerlands had been undergoing its own turmoil with the Undead threat in the Deadlands, The Kingdom of Lorraine had fallen upon it's own hard times as they attempted to rebuild and the Republic of Carasca was usually Isolationist, I saw no hope for a Coalition War. Only the Duchy of Mardon and some sparse Hanseti-Ruskan resistance to Courlandic rule remained. The way I saw it, we had lost too much. . . It was time for Pax Courlandia. I am sure the idea would be anathema to other Canonists, surrendering from the might of the Courlandic Army and their heretical faith, but constant fighting would only bring more bloodshed. H.R.H King Tobias too desired this peace, which would obviously be a peace he would be able to dominate and control, much like the Oren Empire before it. Whilst I toyed with these thoughts inside my head, sat atop the bridge between the Barony of Ostwick and the old d'Savin territories, I saw a familiar face. It was Annebelle Farsight, dressed in a rather beautiful dress. Hopping down from the side of the bridge, I went over to her as we both conversed. She had apparently moved over to the Kingdom of the Westerlands, but had also found another lover, a Colborn. She had come to Ostwick to find myself and any of her former Mondstadt friends, to inform them that there may be a Wedding at some point in the future, so we may be invited! Of course, I was happy for her and congratulated her for being able to find love again. GOD rest Lord Boris Ruthern. We talked at length over the news over the past month, to which she informed me there had been a new High Pontiff called Lucien V, a former bishop of Mardon. It became clear now that there would likely be an attack on Mardon from Courland, after the Duke had formerly declared independence from the Courlandic Yoke. On top of this, the Grand Marshal Jacque de Felsen had mysteriously gone missing in Haense whilst trying to secure the lands for the Courlandic crown, apparently during a snow-storm. Whilst the Courlanders mourned the loss, I had my suspicions that, like before, he would be back again. No body, no proof he's dead. After our long discussion, Annebelle and I said our goodbyes, with a promise to keep safe in the future. A promised sealed with a hug. Chapter 58: A Sick Rose Lady Adrijana Amador, "Lady Susanne Von Schlichten of Chambery" (1605) The summer suns were slowly making way for the autumnal season, with the leaves of the great oaks surrounding Ostwick becoming as orange and brown in appearance as the stone hews that built the Barony, turning the surrounding areas into a Savannah landscape that was beautified by the nearby lake. The scenery was of the utmost beauty. One could understand why the Princess would want this place for her own. It complimented her. As I was busy creating schedules for deliveries to the Barony for the food required for the upcoming feast, a woman dressed in a grass green dress stepped through the gateway. She was a brunette of petite build, pale and sickly. She came forward and asked for the Lord Oan. After enquiring who she was, she named herself as Susanne Von Schlichten of Chambery. After explaining that the Lord Oan had gone on a hunt with some of his retinue, in order to stock up for the feast to come, she seemed ever so disappointed. Coughing a bit and looking less the healthy, I escorted her into the palace. She explained that she had come from Chambery, south-west of Metz, seeking the Lord Oan's medical attention. As a guest beneath the roof, from noble birth, I decided it best to give her some quarters until she was able to see the Lord Oan. I therefore escorted her to the former guest quarters of the barony, which had formerly been occupied by a woman named 'Lisette'. It was a modest room with a view over the lake and plains of Lotharingia. We talked at some length whilst I had maids set up the room to match her more appropriately. She asked very politely to prevent anyone from the Van Loden family to know of her whereabouts, as she did not want to upset Floris Van Loden. Whilst I assured her that I wouldn't, my mind began to wonder. I had not seen the Van Lodens at all. . . Not Floris, Not Johen, Not Erin. . . Erin. I missed her the most. I wondered where they were now. Evidently alive, from the Lady Susanne's claims. . . I'd have to search for them eventually. Food was brought to the Lady Susanne and I then departed for the rest of my duties. Chapter 59: Refurbishment Unknown peasant artist from Ponce, "Lady Alyssa Adelheid Amador" (1604). As acting-chamberlain of the Barony of Ostwick, I had to spend more and more time with the Lady Aylssa Adelheid Amador, a woman who I had only previously mentioned shortly in the memoirs. As she was growing up under her Mother's care in Lorraine, she had developed into a well-manners but stern young lady, with all the characteristics of the Princess. She was a mere inch shorter than me by now, with the Amador's cold grey eyes and a Heartlander's pale skin. She often wore a small tiara, to remind those around her of her status as the Princess' daughter, whilst wearing elegant silk dresses. Most of which were of her own making, which was impressive given her tender age. During my time in Ostwick, she was the High-Stewardess, in charge of overseeing the complete and utter refurbishment of the Barony. This meant that all the former chests and belongings of the previous soldiers of Courland. It was my job to therefore to collect all the goods around the Barony, whilst she organised rooms and began to tear them out for the new furniture to come. She had planned a great deal to change, knocking out some of the rooms to create more luxurious apartments for both guests and servants, whilst also getting rid of some of the more 'militaristic' aspects of the Barony. To all intents and purposes, she was attempting to create a palace on the Northern reaches of the Kingdom. The only militaristic buildings that she wished to maintain was enough to keep a garrison of d'Anjou levymen, to defend the palace. H.R.H Princess Anna-Sophia did not see much point in attempting to raise a levy of her own, having sworn herself to Count Robert d'Anjou of Cleves, she relied on him to provide military support. In return, the Count had requested that an ample space be provided for him and his men. It seemed like a fair enough transaction to be made, allowing the Princess and her daughter to create a courtly environment that would not be overtaken by the militarism of the other lands around Axios. I sometimes suspected why they did not simply swap lands. . . Regardless, the Lady Alyssa made known to me during this time that she was looking for a person who would be capable of defending her, as a bodyguard. I sighed a little, as thoughts of my younger brother re-entered once more. He would have been perfect for the job, were he still alive. Not a sight nor sound of him since the Battle of Elba. I believe the Lady Alyssa sensed my concern with this and comforted me somewhat, asking to keep a weather eye out. We then continued organising the Barony. Chapter 60: Past Blunder Redacted Artist, "Blundermore Wind-Raker" (1604) As I was burning some of the empty and old chests from the front of the Barony, an elderly individual entered through the gates of Ostwick. He was dressed in blue robes and wore a blue pointed hat, which had a strange yellow stripe along the base, as well as wielding a staff or walking stick of some fashion. I had to admit though, I was a little jealous of that wondrous white beard. I'll have to grow myself one. . .I greeted him and made the usual introductions, as he did the same, beneath the warm glow of the morning sun. He stated that his name was Blundermore Wind-Raker, a Travelling Wizard who had come searching for employment in the Courts of the Nobility, having been previously refused from the Court of Courland. I was a little stunned, but was more than happy to see another person join the Barony. I invited him into the drawing room and study, near the Throne room. Taking out a notebook and quill, I began an informal interview with him, to gauge whether we was genuine or not. He claimed to be very skilled in enchantments, minor alchemy and Alternationism, wishing to settle down into more stable work. He seemed to also have a deep dislike for the Undead, noting that there were some abnormalities around the Barony, which he believed he would be able to correct, if given the opportunity. Pleased to see the eagerness in such an old man, I offered him the placement as the Princess' Court Wizard, with the added responsibility of keeping the Barony clean of the Undead risk. He accepted, provided he was paid up-front to right some previous debts. This was done. It was by small coincidence then that we walked out of the Drawing room and finished settling the Wizard into suitable accommodations that we happened upon the retinue of Lord Robert d'Anjou, who was flanked on either side by his levymen, facing H.R.H Princess Anna-Sophia. I sensed that there was some animosity between the Lord Robert and this Mr. Wind-Raker, but it seemed to abate ever so slightly as introductions were made. Lord Robert had arrived to have a meeting with the Princess, which I had previous arranged and organised, to see to some of the finer detailed of the Refurbishment effort. The Princess remarked at my competence, which made me beam a little, but it sought to raise the eye-brows of the Count, who quizzed me on my previous encounters with the Princess. The answers I gave must have satisfied him, as well as that of the meeting, for he was soon off to Cleves again. No doubt we'd see him at the feast to come! Read Book 1 Here! Read Book 5 Here! Read Book 7 Here!
  13. The Memoirs of Aylwin Blaxton - Book 5 Warning: NO META - These memoirs are OOC information until Aylwin Blaxton dies, then they will become common knowledge IC. Chapter 41: Losing ground Giovanni de Felsen, "Massacre at Curon" (1604) As the sun rose upon the coast of Curon, a sea of grey and green flags could be seen along the roads that had been once used by traders and wayfarers, matching the dim colour of the sea that morning. The Courlandic army had taken a significant portion of the coastline, but under the cover of darkness, our men were able to lock the gates of the palisade behind their Vanguard. This gave us some time to shore up the defences of the initial fort on the border of Vasiland, rebuilding and resupplying it. The main force of the Courlandic Army had taken up positions near a large staircase that headed up into the mountains. I hear that staircase leads to a fortress of some kind, but not one that either of our parties were interested with. We then received word from our Command, we were to push the Courlanders back in an all-out charge, with the hopes that our numbers would force them back. Adorning my armour of Iron, battered from our recent incursions with the heathens, I started to prepare myself for the worst. I'd never been one for war. I left that to my brother. My brother, who I had not heard from now since the battle of Elba, with no mention of whereabouts or body. My gauntlet-covered fists picked up an Iron axe and shield, before marching out to the palisade, with the rest of the Cohort. The plan would be that we'd charge the Courlandic ranks and hopefully force them into a route, which could then culminate to an attack on their camp. Needless to say, it did not go well, as no plan ever survives first contact with the enemy. They came at us like a wave bashing against the rocks, like the tide next to us. Man after man fell beside me as I attempted to hold my ground, until an individual stepped forward wearing the heraldry of a Rising Sun stepped forward and shield-bashed me against the palisade wall. I gazed up for a moment feeling that this would be my end, as the knight rose up his sword. Smash. Another had shoulder-barged him down to the sea and defended me from another blow. Staggering up to my feet and retreating behind the palisade wall, I noted that the one who had saved me was Andrei Kovachev, Duke Sergius' brother. I never thanked him for his actions that day, and my mind wonders to where he was now. The charge against the enemy had been foiled. The enemy had not broken and were now besieging the palisade once more, soon enough they had us fleeing back to Serpentstone, burning it wooden wall to the ground after seeing their previous vanguard slain. Large Trebutchets were created from carts brought by the Courlanders, as the Hanseti-Ruskan troops began to mount Mondstadt Ballista onto the walls of the fortress, looking down from the parapets like make hungry eagles waiting to find their prey. A small ceasefire was made to collect the dead, for many had fallen upon the wayside of this skirmish, more than would probably have been lost throughout the entirety of the campaign. Chapter 42: An unexpected visitor Redacted Artist, "Lady Adrijana with the Twins, Henrik and Ruslan" (1604) For all the hell that they had wrought upon my homeland, first from the lawless raids that had once plagued our settlements in the Dual Kingdom of Hanseti-Ruska and then the countless deaths of battle, they had a ***** sense of patience. This ceasefire, I believed was a chance for the Lords of the Dual Kingdom to contemplate: to what extent are we willing to go for the Kingdom? Whilst none would say it openly, one need only have looked in the eyes of some to see that the hope was dwindling, victory against the Kingdom of Courland seemed distant. For to look into a man's eyes is to look through the hollow form that is ourselves and see the soul that is within, as if looking through the windows of a house into the warm hearth awaiting you. Many were Brave, Loyal. But only fools wouldn't be scared. In this ceasefire, Erin and Johan van Loden had finally been able to finish preparations for their wedding party, held at Laurenstadt. It was a modest get-together of some close friends, though there were some who I did not expect to have been in attendence. The first was one Fakhri Kharadeen, the Crown Prince of Haria. He was a fairly short, rather scholarly looking individual, with a limp on his left leg. He spent most of his time next to me at the banquet table, talking to Johan and Erin whilst they cradled their young toddler, Willem, to a soundless slumber. Fakhri had arrived escorted with another man, who decided it best to patrol around Laurenstadt than join the festivities. Each to their own, I suppose, for neither drank during party. I think Fakhri said his name was Khalid. . . The second, third and fourth unexpected visitors was the Lady Adrijana and her newly born twins: Henrik Ramdir Amador & Ruslan Nikita Amador. Henrik would be the Lord Owyn's heir. I was not amused to see Adrijana present at the party, and was sure to tell her so, but was told to allow the transgression to go unmarred. Lord Owyn had missed his wife dearly, and despite it not being in the Lady's best interests to be in the Kingdom, she had insisted to see her Husband, along with the twins in tow. I was admittedly annoyed, as would any other loyal man, since she was going against the Lord's wishes. But she loved him like no other woman could love an iron-handed man. Coloured party hats on our heads and the bubbly going wild as we feasted, the party was a great time, culminating into a duel for a horse or minae. Oh, this was such a terrible show up for me. . . Tipsy from too much rum and aching from too much food, I found myself having to fight against Leonhard, the van Loden guardsman. He didn't need to expend too much effort for my head to end up in the icy cold snow-mounds around Laurenstadt. An embarrassment on my part, but Leonhard faired well, considering he was just as drunk! Johan van Loden was pitted against the Lord Owyn Amador after us, which was fairly entertaining. Johan, much more the lover than the fighter, continued to try and out run Owyn. . . Only for him to fall to the Count's sparring arm. It was hilarious. Unfortunately, I lost a bet to Johan soon after, as the Lord Owyn fell to Leonhard. A job well done for four men who had drunk and eaten far too much. Chapter 43: Playing Chess Giovanni de Felsen, "Ser Rotger von Curon" (1599) After the party at Laurenstadt was over, the Lord Owyn and Lady Adrijana spent some time together within the walls of the Amador Manor. He cradled the young Ruslan within his arms, making several funny faces and puffing his cheeks, just to hear the child's soft chuckle. The Lady Adrijana was sat beside the Count, her fingers tangled in the curious Henrik's palms as he clutched and reached for her attentions, pawing at her like a kitten would to a mother cat. It was warming to see them all together, a family, under the same roof. Myself? I was sat by the piano, practising my skills with sweet and simple tunes. But I couldn't help but think of this temporary paradise we had created, how soon it would come to nothing, with the war's end coming. Soon enough, the Count of Mondstadt kissed his children and Wife goodbye another time, sending them on a carriage to Ostwick before the ceasefire would end. The flames flickered over the empty hall as the wind howled against the windows and wooden doors. The Count and myself gathered close to the fire, both attempting to get warm from the brisk night air, talking of the events that were to come. He had told me then that the night he had gone off to the Cloud Temple, he had gone to meet Jacque Staunton of the Felsen Watch, Grand Marshal of the Courlandic Army. The meeting had been supposedly brief, with the neutral ground between them there where neither would seek harm on the other lest GOD take offence. In that meeting, the Grand Marshal had pressed hard for the Count Owyn to turncoat and fight for the Courlandic forces. Naturally, his Lordship refused to do so, citing that his vows to H.R.H King Marius were worth more than his own life, but I saw something there. . . Fear. I believe, as he was telling me this story, Lord Owyn did fear for his life and how far he would have to go to maintain his honour and loyalty. Honour and Loyalty. These are the words that hold a nobleman to a king as surely as iron shackles hold a slave in captivity. It means everything to the nobility to have a sense of honour, which their superiors can then use as a way to gauge the trust and Loyalty. Sensing that the Count felt like a cornered animal, I offered a solution. If he were to send me to the Court of H.R.H King Tobias Staunton, at his Capital in Courland, I may be able to convince the King to be merciful to himself and other Lords of Haense after the war. This was, strictly speaking, Treason. H.R.H King Marius had recently produced a new Act which required the Lords to reaffirm their loyalty to the Crown and make it clear that contact with the enemy was punishable by imprisonment or death. The Count gave me a cold, hard glare. One that I had previously seen from his sister Alyssa and the Lady Adrijana. A Hanseti-Glare. He accepted to send me, but made it very clear that if it was discovered, it was myself who would be killed. With a Diplomatic writ of intent, I saddled off to Courland. Chapter 44: Reception Giovanni de Felsen, "His Royal Highness King Tobias Staunton of Courland" (1593) It was clearly a blessing that the ceasefire had lasted for as long as it did. Courlandic troops had held their ground on the borders of Vasiland and held fast outside Serpentstone without neither shot nor shout given. Such a pretext, I believe, allowed me to do what the Late Count Boris Ruthern could not have done. Upon a simple, nonthreatening Courser Horse, I rode for the dockyards of the Old Imperial Heartlands. There, I was able to leave my horse and procure a ship which gave me passage to Asul, where I was able to arrange transport to the Capital of Aleksandra. Along the way, I attempted to remain as incognito as possible, knowing there would likely be some Courlander who would happily remove my head from my shoulders. As I entered the boundaries of Aleksandra, a Harian man walked up to me and demanded a duel, throwing sparring sword to my feet. I protested, arguing that I had no time for this and needed to leave, but he would have none of it. With a sigh, I took up the sparring sword and managed to hold my own, until he jumped from a great height and broke my sparring sword in two. He was satisfied and left on that note. Already, Asul was beginning to look like a very strange place. . . I wandered through the markets of the city and towards the main gate, where a young women (who I suspect was an elf) was attempting to gain entry, knocking on the door and shouting. I think her name was Evelyn. . . I asked her to allow me to have a try, to which I soon followed suit and received a reply. A man by the name of Ser Rotger von Curon, wearing a tabbard of the Courlandic army over simple chainmail armour, came to the door and asked us our names before the elf-looking woman quickly hurried off to see H.R.H King Tobias. I felt a little bit stunned by the speed of her, she was almost impatient to see him. I personally felt a little sick to the stomach, nervous and anxious with anticipation of the reception I'd receive. I stepped to the gate to the Courlandic Court, where I had once been loosing volleys of arrows at Courlandic guards, stood with my hands behind my back in a patient pose of politeness. H.R.H King Tobias was sat within his majestic throne, flanked by two nobles and guarded in-front by the same man who had almost killed me: Grand Marshal Jacque de Felsen. They sought to the business of the elven-looking lady as the blessed Princess Annabel Staunton-Hearth entered, to which I courteously bowed to her, she seemed well of health and nodded in reply as I was ushered forward. H.R.H King Tobias' eyes squinted as he looked down the hall to my person. I advanced down the Courlandic Court with a stride in my step, courteously bowing before them from the hip, catching the attention of Ser Rotger and the other Nobles of the King's court whilst wearing Hanseti armour. I introduced myself to the King and his court, as an envoy who had passed through the carnage of the warfare to speak to H.R.H, which I was surprisingly welcomed without much resistance. The courtiers merely murmured to each other as they noted my armour, indeed so did the King, querying of my homeland. If there were any doubt left, it was sealed away after I present the diplomatic writ to Jacque de Felsen, who passed it on to the King; Bearing the Count's Seal and my credentials as a Diplomat to the Kingdoms of Lotharingia and the Westerlands. Chapter 45: Loyalty Giovanni de Felsen, "Princess Annabel Staunton-Hearth" (1601) Now, some of my readers at this moment would have thought me a dead man. . . Here I am, a Hanseti-Ruskan Soldier, inside the Court of the Courlanders. Ceasefire or not, they had every right then to take me captive, as a diplomat's immunity meant little in times of war. Yet this did not happen. Instead, the Princess Annabel Staunton-Hearth stepped forward, asking if I had known her after recognising my voice. The King would take the diplomatic writ from his Grand Marshal as I nodded to the Princess, as I was the one who had taken watch over her person whilst she was a captive of the Kovachevs of Carnatia, taking care of her health until her untimely escape. Murmurs from courtiers turned to silence, as many would stop to stare at me and the Princess, including the King and Ser Rotger. The Princess returned this with a grateful smile and polite nod, with her thanks on being so kind. I respectfully bowed to the King, as was expected of me. The enemy or not, the foundations of a bridge to communication were being laid, done on the back of a kind deed. Soon, I was ushered to a small garden table, surrounded by the King's most trustworthy, with H.R.H King Tobias sat at it's head. The regular hospitality that was to be also expected during such communications were also observed, with a small meal of steak and carrots being served with a goblet of wine. Such courtesy, his Majesty said, came from the lessons of his father. Seated next to the King was Jacque, followed by a late individual named Edmund, whom I assumed to be Edmund Torryn. On my side, I was separated from the King by some close confidant of his, perhaps a family member? Talks started with a warning that, should harm come to my person by loose lips, no action could be taken there-forward. Everyone seemed to acknowledge this, as I spoke about the King's nephew and niece, whom I knew loved dearly. Truly, I thought there was injustice in how they were treated, so these words were true. We then discussed my Lordships plight. He would not turncoat to Courland, which I made clear to them, was out of the loyalty that the Hanseti-Ruskans have for their King, H.R.H King Marius. Nonetheless, should the King be defeated honourably, I proposed that the Count be given fair trial. After-which, should he be granted clemancy, he could swear the Amador banner to the man whom the King would grant the Cap of the Hetman. For, if the war were to remain in its current course, the Highlandic race would likely be annihilated. This was dismissed by the King, stating he did not wish annihilation, but moved that this was H.R.H King Marius' doing. It was his hand that put lives to the sword, which would also result in the Count's death. I implored the King to see reasoning, for such an honourable and noble man as my Lordship could easily be put to better use under the Crown Prince of the Raevir. Talks continued in this manner for some while, until the H.R.H King Tobias professed to be moved by my Lord's loyalty, offering a counter-proposal in good faith. Faith. That word stuck in me like a knife, for he was one of the True Faith. But he was willing to listen to me, so I did so unto him. His offer was simple, withdraw his banners from the field and proclaim neutrality publicly, so the Count would not be forced to strike down fellow kinsmen. If he did this, then H.R.H King Tobias swore that no harm would come to the Lord Amador's line and Both of their Houses may continue. With the talks thus being concluded, I was wished safe passage and escorted to the Gates of the Castle by his Majesty himself. Before I left, his Majesty said some words that still ring within me somewhat, which make me contemplate the nature of war: Chapter 46: Seven Skies Redacted Artist, "Courlandic Mercenaries at Vasiland" (1604) After the talks with H.R.H King Tobias, I procured transport and headed directly to Mondstadt, hoping to pass on the message soon so that my Lord may find some peace with his Family. However, as I rode into the County, through the stone gate which seperated it from the wilderness outside, I found that the Count had gone. He had been summoned to attend a war-meeting in St.Karlsburg and would not be expected for a while. Thus, I went to my house, out in the Lumberyard. Taking out a tin bath, I filled it with hot water from the kettle and some cold from the nearby well, attempting to cleanse myself somewhat of the dirt that I had picked up from my travels. With daylight fading, I fell asleep on my simple bed of linen and feathers, determined to pass the message on tomorrow. Lord Owyn Amador arrived back in Mondstadt shortly after the sunrise the following morning. I proceeded to meet him in Amador Manor and told him of the events that had occurred and the deal proposed to him by H.R.H King Tobias. A familiar grey glare came from my Lord's eyes as he watched and listened to the proposal, his iron hand picking somewhat at the wooden Throne that he sat himself on. After I had finished, he said nothing, he did nothing, he merely stared. What was going through his mind? . . . I thought. . . Was this not what he wished?. . . He congratulated me soon after on a successful diplomatic trip, but requested that I leave him alone in the hall, so that he may think. Ever the loyalist, I took my leave. But no proclamation would be made by the Lord that day. Soon enough, we were called to arms. The ceasefire had ended and troops were moving back to Serpentstone. Taking up my arms and armour with the Lordship and the rest of the Amador squad, we marched over. BOOM! went the sound of trebutchet ammunition against our walls. THWACK! went the sound of the ballista firing bolts. SMASH! went the sound broken Alchemist fires. The initial fighting was not as brutal as one would like to make them out to be. The first move made was done with a sally of Hanseti-Ruskan Knights upon the Courlandic camp, apparently to attempt some form of ambush or sabotage, that would set off some form of explosion. I never saw this come into fruition. Rather, I was placed on the ballista teams, charged with bringing down the trebutchets. Alongside Aleksandra Abrielle II Kovachev nee Ruthern and Count Owyn Amador. Our initial hits from the ballistae upon the high walls of the fortress had hit their mark, losing much of the Courlander's siege equipment. We were hopeful that a victory might actually have been on the horizon. The Courlandic forces sprayed down arrowfire on us where they could, but many missed their mark. It was only until a fatal trebutchet stone hit the North-Western corner did they begin to try and pour in. Lined up near a simple wooden shelter, Hanseti-Archers let down a volley of arrows, one after another. The arrows threw Courlander's mercenaries aback and off of the parapets to the water below, as they attempted to scale the Fortress. However, as the Courlandic horde moved forward like the ever restless waves below, they too ended up on top of the fortress. Fighting ensued with caches of Alchemist fire being dropped over Serpentstone. It was at this moment I found myself caught between the parapets, the fire and Courlandic Archers. One. Two. Three. I was falling. . . Chapter 47: Pin-cushion Unknown Artist, "Doctor's Anatomical Drawings" (1595) Whilst in pain from the several arrows that had pierced me, my body landed in some shallow current, which floated me to shore. The Assault on Serpentstone had succeeded and any hope for a Haense Victory was now quite lost. The Kingdom would be set adrift, as much as I was, against History's restless tides. I picked myself up off that sandy shore on Curon and, gritting my teeth some, snapped the arrows and took off my armour. Blood seeped from my wounds, but it would have seemed I was quite fortunate that Courlandic Archers were not good shots. Two arrows had hit my left shoulder, whilst another had lodged itself in my side like a skewer. I needed medical attention. There were no civil medics left in the Dual Kingdom, most had been conscripted into the Army as medics, whilst those who cowered from fear ran to the other Kingdoms. I knew of one who had treated a friend of mine before, so I attempted to find them. Walking down the coastline some, I found an empty fishing vessel, which I procured and set off in search of them. The medical professional in question was somewhat of a recluse, hiding in the swamps and forests like the druids, rather than socialise with humanity. I was fortunate that none had come to stop that small, helpless, fishing ship I used. Soon that ship took me to the aforementioned swamps and woodlands, where a familiar doctor was busy collecting herbs. Shocked at my condition, they took me into, what could be called some form of homestead. Laying me down on some surgical table, they began creating some foul pastes and bandages, soon the pliers were out. GOD be good, it hurt like hell and the paste made everything sting all the more! It was only after this was done that they began to patch me up with a needle and thread, before wrapping these bloodied wounds in a soft woollen bandage with covered my torso and left shoulder. By some miracle that this doctor performed, I was able to live to see another day, but not before exacting a toll that I go to a nearby market and collect some ingredients for them. Hardly a tall order, even if it cost me some minae, but it was done nonetheless. I headed on my way with a simple staff in hand, towards the Sky Temple. Chapter 48: A Cloudy Chance & A Dead Dog Redacted Artist, "Ser Markus 'The Loyal' Brawm-Lothston" (1603) Some readers may now think: Why on earth would you go to the Sky Temple? The Answer is fairly simple, much like what happened between the Count Amador and the Grand Marshal de Felsen, one cannot be attacked on this neutral ground. It is anathema to all race. A sacrilege against any and all diety. Therefore, I'd be safe from any Courlander stragglers who would come across me, like a wolf would to a lamb. Staggering around the Sky Temple, I must have seemed rather useless and pathetic to the ones going on with their everyday wares at the market place, limping around and clutching to a simple staff. But not that long after I had finished a small tour of the temple and the marketplace did I hear a familiar voice shout my name. As I turned around, a smile crossed my lips; it was the young Amador levyman, Leofrik Farsight, the Commander Sandry Farsight's son. He greeted me and checked of my health as I enquired to his. As we did so, he told me that he had managed to survive the Assault on Serpentstone with little more than a few cuts and bruises. Young & Lucky Bastard. After working out how we both got were we did from there, we had come to the same conclusion that it would have been safer to regroup people at the Sky Temple, but whereas I had gone out in search of medical assistance, Leofrik had been helping those in Mondstadt clear out their things. H.R.H King Marius I Barbanov had signed a reluctant peace with H.R.H King Tobias I Staunton. Under the terms of the peace, the Highlanders would be free to leave without persecution, but the Dual Kingdom would be handed over to the Kingdom of Courland. It was a bitter pill to swallow. The Heretics had Won, it had felt like GOD had abandoned the Canonist faith for those of the 'True Faith'. Leofrik could sense my displeasure and offered that we go out in search of the Lord Owyn, by using a bird to send a message, with the hopes he would answer. I agreed, provided we walked over to the Lighthouse of the Sky Temple, so that the Bird may have had an easier point at which to find our Lord. Leofrik scrawled a note eagerly and aided me up to the side of the Lighthouse, where we talked at some length about the Lord Owyn, about the War and more. He soon let slip that Ser Markus Brawm-Lothston had fallen in battle; An honourable knight who had spent a great deal of time with Ser Viktor Ruthern and guarded the Count Owyn Amador after he had been rescued from Aleksandra. A small tear crossed down my cheek. Soon enough, a message returned. His Lordship was well and could be found in Ostwick. An excited Leofrik jumped to his feet and speedily ran down the cliffside towards the docks. Geez, did that boy have some speed and energy. . . I attempted to give some manner of chance, as only a wounded-but-recovering man could. Chapter 49: Lofty Ambitions Lady Adrijana Amador, "Aylwin Blaxton, in a Diplomat's Garb" (1605) Leofrik went off with such speed, that honesty, I contemplated bridling him and hooking him up to a carriage. Much to his annoyance, Leofrik often asked me to keep up with him as we made our to Metz, where we came to a rather abrupt stop. Thank goodness, Leofrik didn't actually know the way to Ostwick from Metz and relied on me to show him the way. A much needed breather, I must say!!! Following the road outside of Metz to the former lands of Felsen, we rode around and past the bridge towards the Barony. As we approached the gates, a guardsmen requested to know why we had come. Leofrik was quick to reply that he was out to find the Lord Owyn Amador, which showed a zealous loyalty to our Lord, but received no positive reply from the guard. A little disgruntled, I asked the guard to mention my name to the Lady of the Barony, H.R.H the Princess Pruvia-Horen or her Husband. The guard seemingly went off to verify my name, but it would not be needed. As I slumped down by the gate, aching a great deal from my wounds, a familiar figure approached the gate whilst holding a small parcel and parasol. The Princess had arrived. Leofrik showed her the formalities, but I was a little too weak from the war and the travelling to do her any decent justice. I made the introductions to her of Leofrik Farsight, who upon another light actually looked like a younger version of his father, before requesting some sanctuary in her Barony. She obliged without hesitation and showed us into the Grand Hall. Soaked through by the rain, she bid us stay close to the hearth and warm up, before set wandered off into the barony. Most likely to see the Lady Adrijana, who had been keeping residence here with her and her Husband. As we stood there by the fire, warming our cold bones, we began to talk again. This time about our families and our ambitions. Lord Owyn Amador had always seen us through, but now we entered into a realm of uncertainty. Leofrik mentioned that he had married a young girl called Kateri, during a secret wedding, which his sister Annabelle was none too fond of. In fact, she had spurned him and stated she never wanted to see him. Not only that, but he only managed to get his newly wed pregnant within a very short space of time, leading him to jest that Sandry claimed his family sperm was the best in Axios. That aside, Leofrik stated that his ambition would be to set up a nice little homestead for himself and Kateri to live in, away from the troubles of war and with enough land to keep themselves fed. He then flipped the question on me, what would I like to do? What would be my ambition, now everything had happened to us. I began to ponder this too, as my eyes drifted from the warmth of the fire, up towards the ceiling above. Despite everything that had happened to us, we had been somewhat blessed with a fresh slate, to do with what we pleased. . . I replied thusly to Leofrik: Leofrik didn't understand, bless him. He interpreted the words as me wanting to create a machine that would allow me to fly. Preposterous! What Balderdash and Piffle! No. I instructed him that me saying what I did was a Metaphor and used the example of himself. I posed to him, that he was as strong as stone, would that mean he would be made of stone? He looked to his hand, seemingly confused and sheepishly responding no. Indeed, No. For that was the metaphor, saying something is something that it isn't to add emphasis. He tested this out in his own theory, which proved to me correct. Smart cookie. As loyal as his father before him to Lord Owyn, but not nearly as swift and quick. May the Lord give Sandry Farsight Rest. Chapter 50: Temper Temper Aylwin Blaxton, "Sketch of Oan of Brevis, Lord of Ostwick" (1604) It was sometime after those events that I found myself in Ostwick, but with very few people around. Servants, cooks and cleaners were around the Barony, yes. . . But it seemed everyone else had gone for a walk about somewhere! So, I begun to explore this new home that I had come to adopt from my old one. I traced the footsteps I once trod back up to what was H.R.H King Tobias' Bedchamber, which was now being renovated, alongside several others in Ostwick. I also managed to discover the kitchens, a small library and a chapel. Good, a place I could pray at. Down below the main Throne room was a stairway to the Dungeons, which appeared to have an Old barracks, fighting pit and an office belonging to some Red Wizard. . . Never liked Dungeons. Claustrophobic. I took my leave of the dark place and instead went across the Courtyard and back to the Chapel, next to it was a halls of residence, which seemed to be somewhat abandoned. Not surprising, given that the Princess had only recently come into her barony. It would take time to fill these halls we people who would do her bidding, no different than how I or Leofrik would serve the Lord and Lady Amador. On the Opposite side to the Chapel was another residence, which headed up into a larger library and work space, which is where I now pen my memoirs to you. Formerly, I had written these memoirs within the Halls of Amador Manor or my own home in the Lumberyard. It felt nice to be settled enough to write again of my events. No sooner had I finished the penultimate chapter of this book, I decided to go down to the Throne room, to pray proper respects to H.R.H Princess Pruvia-Horen for allowing me into her home. However, my eyes were met, not with the sight of the Princess, but of Lady Adrijana. She was on the floor, convulsing, twitching and frothing at the mouth. A seizure had taken hold of her! Quickly, I dropped my books and went to her aid, moving her onto her side so that her saliva would not choke her, whilst attempting to prevent her from harming herself. My shouts gained the attention of Oan of Brevis, the Princess' Husband and Lord of the Barony. On our first mention of him, he fancied himself a wandering vagabond than a Lord, but he seemed noble of heart if nothing else. Once the seizure had subsided, he took great detail in making sure that she was safe and out of harm of herself. Using a clever contraption of glass and glowstone, he gazed into her eyes to check. . . something. Her Ladyship came around without much problem, stating that she had been suffering from stress some times prior to this, usually when she was anxious of Lord Owyn's whereabouts and safety. Lord Oan diagnosed her to be under-sleeping and under-eating, which didn't help her. Soon enough though, he helped her to her bedchamber with me. I noticed within these transactions, she began to refer to him as Papej and the Princess Pruvia-Horen as Mother-in-law. Perhaps relations had changed for the better whilst she had been here. I stood watch near her chamber that night. That night and some others. Read Book 1 Here! Read Book 4 Here! Read Book 6 Here!
  14. Willem Van Loden (MarquisAlex) signs the charter with a muddy, toddler's hand print.