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LithiumSedai

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About LithiumSedai

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    Aquiring Minas
  • Birthday 03/01/1997

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    LithiumSedai#2394
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Character Profile

  • Character Name
    Charles Talraen de Rennes | Corwin Freiherr von Alstreim
  • Character Race
    Auvergne | Waldenian

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  1. Corwin had, of course, recalled his dearest friends in Orenia, sending to the Grand and Majestic Duchy of Sunholdt an old wooden puppet along with a flint and steel, and a set of children’s building blocks. Perhaps those who had suffered defeats at Adelburg, Bastion, Alban, Markev, Presa de Madera, Cyrilsburg, Sleeping Swamps, Forkwoods, Ruriksgrad, Red Peak, Nevaria, Ves, Lower Rodenburg, Helena Fields twice, Helena, the Rivers, Leuven twice, Silversea, Koengswald, Rubern thrice, Adria, Krasna, and many others would be able to atone their sorrows in knocking down pretend war memorials, or pretending a patch of dry Sunholdt grass were a Lorrainian field.
  2. ASSUMPTION OF THE SUTICAN CROWN 23rd of Sun’s Smile, 1762 To all Our loving and faithful subjects of what degree and rank soever, Corwin, by the Grace of God King of Sutica and in Atheran Salvus, Sovereign Lord of the Whispering Isles, Protector and Triumvir of the State, etcetera delivers greetings unto you. We have thought it Our duty to declare Our Royal assent in assuming these privileges granted unto Us through the unending Grace of Our Lord, in accordance with the Address of Abdication and Succession issued and confirmed by Her Highness the Trade Princess, so confirmed by the Supreme Writ of Sutican Governance in full and by Our upcoming coronation. Under Our Great Seal of the Sutican State and the Blood-Raven of Alstreim We do renounce any and all pretensions and claims to styles of an Imperial Monarchy so wrongfully assumed by Her Highness the Trade Princess. Our opinion as Monarch and Canonist Human of noble Imperial blood and heritage holds it true in accordance with the Exordium on Imperial Authority that the style of Emperor remains the God-given privilege bestowed upon the Sovereign of Mankind and His One, Holy and Orenian Imperial Crown. We do not desire to enjoy more than what belongs to Us and is freely given by the right of succession rather than the sword, nor to impede Our loyal subjects in enjoying their rights by Law, which We do guarantee by a full administration of justice throughout the Realm, and by extending Our mercy where such may be sought and deserved. We do publicly declare Our intent to assume the rank of Overseer by Our privileges afforded by the Supreme Writ, and We shall be prepared to consent to such an Act of Our Triumvirate and the Council, for the full granting of these titles. And We do further declare Our commitment to the affairs of the Cerulean Watch under the command of Minister Goldhand-Uialben, and that they shall enjoy Our full confidence through shared protection of Our God-given possessions. SUTICA ETERNAL GOD WITH US, ℭ𝔬𝔯𝔴𝔦𝔫 𝔎ö𝔫𝔦𝔤 𝔲𝔫𝔡 𝔗𝔯𝔦𝔲𝔪𝔳𝔦𝔯 HIS ROYAL MAJESTY, Corwin of the House of Alstreim, By the Grace of God King of Sutica and in Atheran Salvus, Lord Protector and Triumvir of the State, Sovereign Lord of the Whispering Isles, Lord of Alstreim and Blackwater, Renatian Knight of Alstreim and Waldenia, Blood-Raven of Lorraine, Keeper of the Blood Chalice and the Opal Crown, Pilgrim to Aesterwald
  3. Corwin Freiherr von Alstreim offers his fellow Waldenians a thumbs-up despite their Haenser loyalties.
  4. I’ll always have fond memories of everyone, you especially, who stuck with us through 2emps and until the very end. To come together as one on the day of The Siege(TM), singing songs and joking around in Renatus VC, spending the previous evening building up the defenses, being a real community even in the face of dispersion and defeat – it all showed real character, especially from Norland, who had been our sworn enemy for so long. To know that nothing like that will ever grace LotC again feels bitter. So long, and all the best.
  5. ADDRESS OF THE SUTICAN TRIUMVIRATE 10th of Sun’s Smile, 1760 Foreword, To quote upon the recently released announcement of our Trade Princess on the Writ of the Sutican Triumvirate: Title 1, Article 1 - Definition The Triumvirate of Sutica is a position to be held by three individuals who oversee all matters of the Sutican Government… With the formation of the new Sutican Triumvirate, the city and its government are presented with a new set of hurdles, but we are also provided with opportunities. We, as the Triumvirate whole, have taken up sects - objectives and goals for our tenure brought with transparency. As well as introductions. I, Blair Cohnal Fester, am directing my focus of power towards the guard force - a long-neglected portion of our city. And to so, I wish to bring changes and incentives to our Watch. We live a carefree life in Sutica, and a pleasure it is to do so, but it seems this lazy mindset as bestowed itself onto our guard force. We have portions of our walls neglected, portions of our barracks in the same manner. An entire underworking of the city devoted to such a purpose, yet left unmanned. Utilities that should be in use, yet left to waste by neglect. Now, in my tenure as Minister of Coin, I have created the resources to develop pay for our watch once more. I will be working alongside our current Minister of Peace and the fellow members of our guards to reinstate what once, in this land of Arcas, was a thriving and flourishing guard force. No longer will the plans of higher-ups be hidden away behind closed doors - all will be transparent to those it affects. And the opinion of a mere soldier will be of the same value as one with many awards and titles. Those of you who know me, Corwin von Alstreim, and are familiar with my legacy and my involvement with worldly affairs and those of our Free State, will therefore know that I consider the appointment bestowed upon me in the highest of regards. To be raised to exalted service among the Triumvirate is to affirm Sutica’s dedication to the mutual covenant of eternal debt and friendship between the State and the House von Alstreim. Long has the Sutican Nation remained free of the burdens of eternal war and suffering which had recently plagued the Descendant Realms; equally so has it indulged in chaos and neglect for a lack of enlightened thought and progress which had also graced its adjacent Realms. I believe it to be my calling and my sacred oath to the State to, alongside my colleagues, restore order and stability within its borders. Once more the Sutican Nation will assume its rightful place as a respected Realm, a shining beacon of commerce and knowledge, a steadfast bastion of freedom and liberty as the longest-standing sovereign state of the Realms. Hello, some of you may know me as Jon Snowell, the Minister of the Interior, while others as the homeless elf who sleeps on a bench outside the tavern. I have lived within our great nation for the last hundred seventy-five years, and have served as the Minister of the Interior for the last hundred. As a just appointed member of the newly formed Sutican Triumvirate, I am planning on dedicating my time to a number of projects that will improve the city for all its inhabitants. For many the lands surrounding the free city of Sutica have been underused and underappreciated. So, in coordination with my position as the Minister of the Interior, and the ministry as a whole, during my tenure as a member of the Sutican Triumvirate I plan on revitalizing the lands surrounding the City of Sutica and the lands of the greater Sutican state. This will be done through the removal of abandoned structures, and the distribution of land to local as well as global groups that might be looking for a piece of land to call their own. SUTICA ETERNAL HER GRACE, Mrs. Blair Cohnal Fester, Minister of Coin of the Sutican State and the Triumvirate, Head of Fester Family, The Vibrant of the Free State of Sutica ℭ𝔬𝔯𝔴𝔦𝔫 𝔉𝔯𝔢𝔦𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔯 𝔳𝔬𝔫 𝔄𝔩𝔰𝔱𝔯𝔢𝔦𝔪 HIS GRACE, Ser Corwin of the House of Alstreim, Lord Protector of the Sutican State and the Triumvirate, Lord of Alstreim and Blackwater, Renatian Knight of Alstreim and Waldenia, Blood-Raven of Lorraine, Keeper of the Blood Chalice and the Opal Crown, The Honorable of the Free State of Sutica, Pilgrim to Aesterwald HIS GRACE, Mr. Jon Snowell, Minister of the Interior of the Sutican State and the Triumvirate, The Eternal of the Free State of Sutica
  6. To indulge in sorrowful memories remains, to this day, perhaps the most depressing habit of old men. Yet the lessons of years past, no matter how distant, have always been a stepping stone towards the greatness of our days, an important remedy for ailments of the present age. I had once been but a child, a young heir emerging from my immediate House’s isolation upon distant isles - sent across the seas with an entourage of tutors and retainers along with my brother to gaze upon our glorious Empire; to impress our aunt, younger than the pair of us and then residing in the great City of Carolustadt, with our enlightened manners and education of Aeldinic noblemen. Yet upon our arrival to the shores of Atlas, a stroke of fate would have our plans of visitation turn to permanence: the final decree of our Grandfather, as he boarded our ship to make amends with my father before his imminent passing, named me the Baron Rennes, and Louis my heir presumptive. The burdens of this new reality weighed heavily on my mind, in the thoughts of an eleven-year-old, as our coach traversed the roads of Atlas, trailed by the armsmen of our Home Guard - now formally under my command. Nestled within our velvet seats, Louis and I deliberated upon our predicament in sharp Auvergne - for in these days Imperial Common had been our secondary tongue, uttered by our Father and our governesses solely during lessons of Orenian history, culture and commons. Utterly consumed by our argument of commandeering the holdings of Rennes, where many baked, sweet treats would be found for the pair of young lords before our imminent (and in our young minds, terrifying) homage to the Emperor of Man, we were blind to the sights we passed by. Our kettle-helmed retinue, in contrast, cast wary glances over the war-torn landscape. Piles of rubble and barren fields dotted the countryside past Velth’s Gate - only the first of many grim reminders of the terrible price of our Victory. We had, of course, already been familiar with the accounts of the final Coalition War, with the triumphs at Nordengrad and Arberrang, at Kal’Tarak and San’Kala. Back home, the sacrifice of war eluded our childish psyche; Louis and I wished to be chevaliers in shining plate, as did every boy within our sheltered social circles of Aeldinic nobility. War, in our minds, was the glorious pursuit of Immortality which our blood lay claim to, for we were the noblest sons of Orenia. Death and suffering, bar heroic martyrdom in battle, remained the affair of lesser men, we thought. I cannot say whether our exchange would have breached this subject, had it not been for the change of pace past the summer-fields of Lorraine - stripped bare as any other - and our timely arrival upon the Imperial Road. The uphill path slowed our advance past the midday hours, I recall, and my bickering with Louis ceased, drowned by the incessant beating of hooves upon the cobbled slope. In annoyance, I did stick my head through the window - to be greeted by a most poignant sight. An armed warrior stood in our path, perched upon the hilltop. Or so it had seemed - taken aback by the sudden emergence of this image, at a second glance I took note of his towering size, of his watchful stance and determined gaze, blade pointed downwards, and his make of fine stone. A statue that, evidently, lay mounted upon a base adorned by Imperial banners, atop a monolith of stone which grew in my sight as we ascended the hill. My lips parted in silent incantation as I perused the engravings it bore in Common. Familiar names of great Imperial victories, grouped in threes along with bitter defeats, rare as they had been, each bearing a tally of crosses. The primary inscription read: TO THE GLORIOUS RENATIAN AND IMPERIAL DEAD 1 6 3 7 - 1 6 8 7 THEIR NAME LIVES FOREVERMORE This had been, though I had no knowledge of it at the time, the culmination of my Grandfather’s tenure as Arch-Seneschal - the grand War Memorial he had poured his soul into, to honor the countless deaths of his comrades from the Third Crusade and onwards. For the moment, the sight of the monolith, circled by fields of poppies, captivated my attention, evoking in me simultaneous feelings of awe and unease. And the moment passed; our retinue paid their respects, our coach sped onwards to Carolustadt. I spoke to Louis once more - we discussed war, still as it had been presented in our noble accounts. I would be a Dragon Knight, I told him, a paragon of chivalric virtue in polished plate that would bear the Talraen arms quartered with the Red Dragon; he would become a cuirassier, and we would collect the heads of fallen ogres and heathens as the peasantry cheered on. Later I was told that every etched cross meant a thousand perished souls. From the Adelburg Coup and the Battle of the Bloody Road to the Siege of Kal’Tarak, the tally, amended for the Coalition War, numbered nearly fifty thousand Renatian and Imperial fallen, wounded and missing soldiers. It did not include the counts of slaughtered citizenry, nor the casualties of those unfortunate realms of Man who had, throughout the bloody century, in vain opposed the Renatian forces. The Imperial War Memorial of Axios and Atlas, funded and raised by Bl. Aran Talraen de Rennes, Arch-Seneschal of the Imperial Crown This memory came to mind upon the day I stood on the bridge of Helena. I had turned thirty-three; I was, as my Grandfather had been, who then resided Blessed in the Skies, Arch-Seneschal of the Imperial Crown and Baron Rennes. Tailed by my men of the Home Guard, by Legionnaires in battered plate, and by a pair of crimson-clad Dragon Knights, I pressed on across the hastily repaired bridge, painful grunts escaping me with every step of my bent and beaten, limping leg. There, to our left, from the earthworks streamed a ring of standing stones, tied together by crowned archways of Royal Renatian purple-and-gold; lined with gardens of blood-red roses and poppies. Braziers atop their peaks illuminated our path in the summer evening; I approached the monolith of stone within their midst, flanked by two alcoves, in which stood statues of select Heroes of the Pertinax Cross. Its reverse listed four names every man, woman and child of Renatus had learned to revere: DONALD DABBER LYONEL OF DUNHARROW WREN ISTAF LUBOK’LAK 1 7 1 6 TO THE HEROES TRIUMPHANT OF RENATUS MAY THEIR BLADES ALWAYS STRIKE TRUE I looked to its face, pressing my bare palm upon the warmed stone. As if I were still a child, my lips once more moved in silent mourning, as they mouthed the inscription ahead. SER JAN SIGMAR SER JAMES WINDSOR BERENFROY DE FONTEVRAULT SER FREDERICK BADEN 1 7 1 6 TO THE GLORIOUS RENATIAN DEAD OF HELENA THEIR NAME LIVES FOREVERMORE My gaze streamed upwards, towards the brazier of everlasting flame. And I wept. For now I knew the terrible face of war; I understood the blood price of Victory. I had come to know the truths of sacrifice, of terrors, of slaughter, of battles and heroic strife. I wept, for my friends, my family, my citizens and loyal subjects had paid the ultimate price for our freedoms. Tears flowed down my visage for my Grandfather’s Crusaders; for the greatest friend that I had ever known, whose name lay carved in the stone before me, upon the pillar we had together designed; for my poor Louis, the cuirassier who had been my only brother, who now lay in rest where none could hurt him anymore. I cried knowing that within the torn, ruined walls of Helena, my spouse and my children were safe; I cried for all those fallen, of the Great War of the Emperors and of every war in which our Empire bled, of any race or creed. I had come to know my Grandfather’s sorrow, at last. And in his steps, I built for my people a reminder of what true Immortality meant. The Siege of Helena Memorial, raised and funded by Ser Frederick Baden and Charles-Edmond Talraen de Rennes, Arch-Seneschal of the Imperial Crown Today I am old and withered. A mere Saint’s Day parts me from the age of seventy-six. I no longer lay claim to titles of renown - merely those of Grandfather, Father and Husband. And as though my name might one day find itself within the annals of history, as it might rest upon the lips of my beloved, it is not right for these Memorials of War - which stood not solely as my Grandfather’s and my own legacy, but that of the Orenian People - to remain forgotten to the passage of time. I have read, on this day, our Arch-Chancellor’s address; on this day, another Great War wanes after twenty years of wanton destruction and the suffering of thousands. And I say to him, and I ask of him and the Orenian People - will you allow the memory of our glorious dead to fade once more? Will you forsake the sacrifices of our forefathers, abandon one cenotaph to a fallen realm’s oblivion, and another to the whims of revisionists? Will we not grant our soldiers Immortality in remembrance and reverence, no matter their Nation, if they had laid down their lives for the Empire so it might thrive in virtue until the End Times? BLESSED ARE THE GLORIOUS DEAD - THEIR NAME LIVES FOREVERMORE On the 12th of Tobias’ Bounty, 1760 Charles-Edmond of the House of Talraen, 3rd Arch-Seneschal Talraen of the Imperial Crown Former Lord Regent and Minister of Foreign Affairs
  7. ”Still not tired of winning,” spoke an ancient Renatian, concurring with the enlightened viewpoint of the missive.
  8. Somewhere within the eternal torment of afterlife, a frail figure once known as the Lady of Adelburg – a Seneschal, Priorist Blackshirt and Axios’ most terrifying murderer – cheered on her fellow serial killer, chanting an encouragement to his macabre exploits. ”Death death death death death death DEATH” screamed Renna Talraen.
  9. [!] A short, informative printed flyer made rounds in the various trading communities of Arcas, primarily the markets and squares of Sutica. ONE HUNDRED YEARS OF ALSTREIM VENTURES AND STEEL Sehr geehrte Kunden, We are pleased to inform you of a momentous occasion for our enterprise – the celebration of the hundredth anniversary of the founding of Alstreim Ventures and Steel. It has been a long journey since the distant year of 1656 – the date of our esteemed House’s arrival in Senntisten and the establishment of our company and its holdings, an extension of our family’s historical trades of blacksmithing, tinkering and tailoring. It was amidst the lively markets of the Capital of Man that the vision of our founders came to be – a revival of Waldenian weaponsmithing and engineering, second to none amidst the numerous peoples of the Imperium of Man and beyond. Our business has thrived since, our legacy secured throughout the century by the reputation of Waldenian black ferrum and steel – our wares and hand-crafted creations sold by the thousands upon our numerous locations within cities such as Senntisten, Carolustadt, Sutica, Old Helena, Montburgh and Cresonia. Yet this journey would have proven impossible without your continued trust and loyalty. Therefore we invite you to take part in our celebration! Our forge and primary store is located at 4 Market Square in Sutica. [!] A sketch of the location is provided upon the flyer! In addition to our wide selection of secondary wares, all Alstreim Ventures and Steel weaponry will be sold at four fifths of their original price for the next Saint’s week. Officials of the Free State of Sutica may, in person, request further discounts, as a token of our gratitude towards the Sutican Nation. We eagerly await your visit! [!] Several more sketches of Waldenian weaponry lie enclosed within. GOTT MIT UNS ℭ𝔬𝔯𝔴𝔦𝔫 𝔉𝔯𝔢𝔦𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔯 𝔳𝔬𝔫 𝔄𝔩𝔰𝔱𝔯𝔢𝔦𝔪 HIS LORDSHIP, Ser Corwin of the House of Alstreim, Imperial Red Knight of Alstreim, Renatus and Waldenia, Lord of Alstreim and Blackwater, Blood-Raven of Lorraine, Large Sword of Morsgrad, Keeper of the Blood Chalice and the Opal Crown Owner of Alstreim Ventures and Steel 𝔄𝔡𝔢𝔩𝔥𝔢𝔦𝔡 𝔉𝔯𝔞𝔲 𝔳𝔬𝔫 𝔄𝔩𝔰𝔱𝔯𝔢𝔦𝔪 HER LADYSHIP, Doctor-Detective Adelheid of the House of Alstreim, Lady of Alstreim and Blackwater Co-Owner of Alstreim Ventures and Steel
  10. Ser Corwin scoffed, raising a glass to Henry Stephen Alstion, the Emperor over the water.
  11. Corwin Freiherr von Alstreim receives the news of a yet another defeat of Orenian cloth versus Northern steel, setting aside his breakfast of Waldenian lager and pretzels to send off congratulations to the Allied command; all the while, he hummed a war tune. ”Of thirty hundred Peter’s men, A hundred fled to Novellen; The rest of them lie on the plain There on the Fields of Rubern!”
  12. It did not take long for the Blessed Johannian to find himself in the presence of an old friend, of matching heavenly rank; a meeting long overdue. Piercing hazel eyes took in the Priest’s appearance, a gloved hand crossing over the figure’s seemingly unkempt graying beard and mane – in truth carefully curated to the once-fashion of Renatus – and a suit of three-quarter Renatian lansquenet plate over a striped, red-and-blue Auvergne shirt and breeches, dutifully worn in death as it had been in life, topped with a crimson sash laden with service medals and a white rose, an old symbol of mourning. ”Took you long enough,” spoke the Baron Rennes, Arch-Seneschal Talraen – the famed Administrator, knight-slayer and Crusader known as Blessed Aran, to his fellow Privy Councilor of Aurelius and the husband of his niece. Their exchange breached many subjects – Carolustadt, the Diet, the conspiracy of soul-stone pillars and the Rosnian Replicants, and finally their number of marriages. “I didn’t get past two,” Aran confided, casting wary glances about their resting place in the Skies – his spouses ever on the prowl! Somewhere upon the treacherous seas of Terra, a former Prince by the name of Charles Edward somehow felt a part of his soul fade away. “Horenus vincit, Horenus regnat, Horenus imperat,” he recited, feeling inexplicably compelled to resurrect his old habit.
  13. ”Poems, everybody! The laddie reckons himself a poet!” An old Renatian by the name of Ser Corwin burst into a fit of chuckles, unrelated to the revisionist missive – with glee he recalled the thunderous roar of laughter filling Alt-Helena at the exploits of Joey the Pretender: his hilarious rebellion without a single major triumph to its name; his laughable councilors and signatories of his proclamation, all culled by the Renatian guillotine one by one within days of its publication; his list of Grievances, a compendium of Renatian accomplishments to which the Legion and the Dragon Knights, the immortal defenders of Mankind, wholeheartedly contributed throughout the war; his throne and claim which crumbled even through the supposed favor of Gott – while Royal Godfrey, crowned by the supreme authority of the land (his own), maintained his through the strength and virtue of Renatian arms and the Imperial resolve. He thought of the war and their resounding victory then, and its similarities to the conflict at hand. ”At least the Josephites had enough sense to wear armor!” Charles de Rennes reminisced of his correspondence with the Pretender upon the publication of the missive. Oh to be young again; a Peer of the Realm in his prime, a Minister of the Crown, speaking to Emperors with his beautiful wife by his side! Then he remembered that it had been Joseph’s Reivers who struck his leg, his recollection soon devolving into old man grumbles about wartime wounds.
  14. Corwin Freiherr von Alstreim, a captain of the Renatian heavy infantry in exile, confirms his attendance, polishing his suit of crimson Dragon Knight plate to perfection.
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