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About LithiumSedai

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    Gold Miner
  • Birthday 03/01/1997

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  • Character Name
    Charles-Edmond Talraen de Rennes | Corwin Ritter von Alstreim
  • Character Race
    Auvergne/Renatian | Waldenian

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  1. A powerful Waldenian man of a hundred battles, Corwin von Alstreim, frowns upon his rank being dissolved after having been inducted into the Order! He prepares his documentation to present to the Emperor.
  2. MERCHANT’S AGREEMENT 1st of Sun’s Smile, 1719 Following the defensive pact signed between the Principality of Cresonia and the Imperium Renatum and the formal establishment of diplomatic relations, the House of Alstreim and its trading subsidiary, Alstreim Ventures, have seen it fit to aid the emergent nation’s construction efforts with a donation to the Principality’s coffers, exchanged for a simple token of respect. A formal agreement had been drafted to document this exchange. The terms of the agreement, decided upon by both parties, are as follows: The House of Alstreim and its trading subsidiary, Alstreim Ventures, shall deliver a sum of three thousand minas to the treasury of the Principality of Cresonia. The Principality of Cresonia shall raise and maintain in its capital a statue of Ser Jan Sigmar of Alstreim, the Blood Raven of Lorraine. Signed, ℭ𝔬𝔯𝔴𝔦𝔫 𝔳𝔬𝔫 𝔄𝔩𝔰𝔱𝔯𝔢𝔦𝔪 Corwin of the House of Alstreim, Orderman of the Red Dragon, Lord of Alstreim and Blackwater, Blood Raven of Lorraine, Keeper of the Blood Chalice and the Opal Crown HER ROYAL HIGHNESS, Asria of House Nasrid, High Princess of Cresonia
  3. A Waldenian Orderman known as Corwin von Alstreim hummed a cheery war tune, utterly drenched in blood from the slaughter the encounter turned to be – the legions of Renatia resorting to dealing death with their bare hands to unarmed and unarmored Haensetic dogs. “At Silversea and Leuven Fields Supported by Renatian shields He broke the unholy Orenian bands Did our young Royal Godfrey!”
  4. A Waldenian orderman known as Corwin von Alstreim, a man wielding unusual knowledge of past events that had taken place before his time, frowned deeply upon hearing the news of Ser Darius’ retirement. “One can only hope the new generation of Renatian soldiers – myself included – shall, one day, attain recognition for heroic deeds alike those of Ser Darius Ault and his Dragon Knights. Their memory shall never fade.”
  5. “They’ve yeed their last haw,” proclaimed Lewin, the sheriff of Blackwater, in regards to the Orenian banditos.
  6. ”Hopefully we’ll find enough time!” declared the Talraen woman’s husband.
  7. Lewin of Blackwater revels in his fame as a Renatian spearman.
  8. ”The elf died with honor,” simply remarked his executioner, one Lewin of Blackwater. “It’s more than can be said for the ones he’d fought with.” ((Props for PKing, good fight
  9. AUDIT OF THE NOBILITY OF THE IMPERIUM RENATUM Issued and confirmed by His Imperial Majesty, Godfrey III of the House of Horen, 2nd of Owyn’s Flame, 1718 Given the disruption of recent events prefacing the failed siege of Helena and the heroic defence of the city by Renatian patriots, along with the wholescale mobilisation of the entire populace for the purpose of war, the status of many ancient Imperial land and noble houses is left in question. The treasonous activity of those who live east of the Redmark has left the fabric of the Realm damaged - if not imperilled - and spawns the need for reorganisation. Accordingly it is the will of His Imperial Excellency, the Imperial Arch-Seneschal, who also holds powers as Auditor-General, that a general and widespread audit of all those who claim land or noble privileges within the Imperium Renatum occur. Although those proactive noble lords who wish to forward their claims and details to the office of the Auditor-General are encouraged to do so, all who live within the Realm shall be visited by auditors to ensure that the primacy of the Crown is recognised in all things. Noble houses shall be asked for: their founder, the first member of the house to be landed and the year in which they were awarded any title, their coat of arms, the name and status of their current lord, any past titles, their history, and any extrasystemic honours or titles. Those settlements with uncertain status, be they for military or civilian purpose, must report directly to the Auditor-General for individual consideration. Any who seek employ in this endeavour should make themselves known within the walls of Helena to His Imperial Excellency and they shall be put to good work in charting the lands of the Imperium properly. It is imperative to not only the continued success of the Renatian legions but also the successful construction of a peaceful Empire that the rights and status of the nobles of the Realm is recognised properly, along with the legitimate ownership of lands through Letters. IN NOMINE DEI  HIS IMPERIAL MAJESTY, Godfrey III of the House of Horen, Emperor of the Imperium Renatum, King of Renatus, Marna, Mardon, Salvus, Seventis, Savoy, Courland and Santegia, Duke of the Crownlands, Avar, and Frederica, Count of Helena, Alamar, Frederica, Thesmer, Thelen, Lorath, and Cantal, Baron of Darkwood, Gravelhold, Fidei Defensor, Protector of the Heartlanders, Highlanders, Farfolk, etcetera. HIS IMPERIAL EXCELLENCY, Charles-Edmond of the House of Talraen, Minister of the Interior and Arch-Seneschal of the Imperial Crown of Exalted Godfrey and the Imperium Renatum, Baron and Lord Protector of Rennes.
  10. ”This man has been avenged. A hundred eyes for an eye, blood for blood.” Thus spoke one Lewin of Blackwater with mournful resignation, hauling away his bloodied spear after the forces of Renatus had descended upon Reza, slaughtering every single one of Pretender Joey’s soldiers – but far too late to aid Frederick. Charles de Rennes, famous Administrator, baron, and white knight extraordinaire, murmured an earnest prayer for one of the few men he could call friend. Corwin von Alstreim shed a single tear for Frederick, in place of the long-gone Jan Sigmar – despite having never met the deceased.
  11. ”The dark mages own so much land for the taking,” remarked one Lewin of Blackwater, nonetheless impressed by the map’s quality! ((Nice work!
  12. ALL DREAMS MUST END Deafening blasts and ear-piercing cries, shrieks of the wounded and battle chants of the rallying soldiers, all echoed across the Renatian bastion, carried by the wind; atop the Imperial palace, hastily recommissioned into a citadel of war, stood line upon line of battle-weary soldiers, gazes fixed unto the city beneath. The Capital of Man burned before their very eyes, homes and palaces drowned in thick layers of smoke. Unto them as they wish unto us, mournfully mused an ancient knight stood atop the ramparts - as Orenian siege engines roared, raining stones onto Helena, Imperial archers and crossbowmen rained death upon the Marnan hordes, drawing ever closer to the seat of Imperial might. Ser Jan Sigmar, the Blood Raven, stood among his battle brothers: Renatian, Norlandic, Courlandic, human, elven, and orcish alike. Beneath the numerous battle flags of the Imperium, archers fired on command in unison - it was as if Death itself guided their aim. “Woe be to the poor soul that comes within range!” cried out a Renatian crossbowman, and the old knight couldn’t help but concur. Clad in aged Aesterwaldic plate, upon his back bearing the terrible banner of Alstreim, he peered unto the battlegrounds below. Long has the light in his eyes faded, taking with it most of what remained of his sight; to him, blurry shadows danced underneath the dim lights beneath, flickering and fading sometimes - by his doing, for the Dragon Knight, guided by righteous anger, with his arbalest dealt justice and death to the apparitions, beside his comrades. The banners beneath they carried, he could recognize as they approached, or so it appeared to him; long ago, he had marched under them - in another life, or in a fleeting dream. He wished to go. In the heat of battle, heroes rise in glorious ways - so it had been since the ancient ages, in the countless stories of Man. The boy’s hands trembled with excitement, rough and calloused, they which had never held a weapon nor tool beside the smith’s hammer. The man draped about his shoulders an oversized, worn coat, covering the auburn-haired lad’s brigandine decorated with the royal crow. “Komm zu mir zurück,” spoke his father, to his apprentice and son. The boy knew; in the old man’s eye, flashed worry that contrasted his firm words. “Komm schon, Alstreim!” beckoned his friends at the gate, for the marching lines of men were to depart any moment now. None dared step inside - the smithy of Wilhelm, the old Alstreim, commanded awe and respect even in this glorious moment. And so the boy parted with his father, whose gaze trailed after him; with his laughing friends, along with the Royal Army, their black-and-gold banners proudly soaring in the skies, they marched to crush the invaders at Elba… He wished to come back. In the heat of battle, men die in gruesome ways - so it had been since the ancient ages, in the reality of Man. Bewildered and broken, clutching tight his pike bloodied at the ferrum-plated tip, the boy cast frenzied glances across the blackened field; upon it, beneath the tattered banners of Haense and Courland, hundreds of bodies lay mangled, and the shrieks of the fallen wounded resounded through the woods. In the fray, their formation withered - the Courlanders had broken through, and once the brutal struggle had ended, his childhood friends lay dead. Forced to fight for his very life, tears streaming down his face, along with what little of the levy lived through the push and the merciless encirclement, the boy, drenched in blood, ended three… The bells of the palace rung amidst the onslaught, and a company of halberdiers rushed past Jan. A breach in the western tower, so he’d heard, and the Waldenian parted from the battlements, his fellow Dragon Knights following to join the fray. Old as he was, his endurance and strength had been honed for decades; the blacksmith-turned-knight rushed along with the brigadiers, heavy arbalest swapped out for his waraxe. As they marched, the soldiers mumbled prayers in earnest. “O Creator of Man, Overseer of all things right, whose powers none can resist…” frantically whispered the youthful Legionnaire by his side. How long has it been since his own youth had been stolen, traded in for near-endless war? How many comrades now resided in the Seven Skies, while he pressed on and fought? Every past struggle now seemed to be nothing more than a distant dream. “...Grant me the strength to defeat Thy enemies. From Your grace…” “...I shall know no fear,” chanted Ser Jan, rising to a stand before the Holy Cross; his knightly brothers followed, tracing the Lorraine across their plate-clad chests. A glorious atmosphere reigned in the Cathedral of the Holy Martyrs. All of Karlstadt made their appearance, wishing luck upon the crusaders - the brave men who would face the demons of Arberrang in the name of the Empire and the Holy Mother Church. It would be the third crusade the Dragon Knight was to embark on; with a grin, he reminisced of Vjorhelm and Ruriksgrad, the trenches, the moment upon which Aurelius, then King and now Divine Emperor, had bestowed upon him the knightly title of Ser, for his acts of bravery and heroism. And amidst these memories, one burned the brightest - her smile. Adelheid, his wife, awaited his triumphant return… The Dragon Knights’ arrival soon settled the breach in Imperial favor through a quick, although bloody struggle, granting the battered men a moment’s rest. And so his thoughts wandered, to happier times, to those cherished pockets of peace he had once enjoyed alongside his beloved wife and friends. So many old faces faded from his memory, as those present faded from his sight. But not hers, perfect and unchanging through seventy years of marriage. And by her side at night, in a dream within a dream, it was not Elba nor Jornheim Fields he stood at, but the summerfields of Lorraine, their hands intertwined. "Now, with the exchange of rings being complete, I pronounce the two of you husband and wife," the cleric announced, concluding the ceremony with a bright smile. "May the Lord of Light watch over this newly wed couple, and ensure that their marriage is long lived." And as he took her hand into his own, scarred and burnt, nothing else mattered - the two shared a kiss, and the bells of Cloud Temple chimed… The palace bell tolled once more in desperate alarm, in a call to him and his knightly brethren. Torn from his thoughts, rising to a painful stand, Jan deduced its meaning quite easily; companies of lancers already began forming battle lines before the palace gates, intent on halting the mass charge being prepared at the square. And so, moments later, the Imperial knights rode out atop their chargers, melding with the rally from the side passages and alleys, carrying Renatian banners. Jan reined his horse in the first line, flanked by the other Dragon Knights. Opposite them, down Aurelius Avenue, converged the Orenian hordes, thinned by the earlier arrow barrage, but still numerous - to him a shadowy mass, whose flags and weaponry he could not discern. Thousands, likely, compared to their hundreds, though facing a mounted force of Renatia’s finest - their counter-charge set to buy time for barricades to be set up within the throne room. Ever so slowly, the shadows approached, flooding towards the gates. The hour has struck for the streets to witness true slaughter, for the ground to be soaked with blood of patriots and traitors alike. For the final time, he turned to his memories, to days long gone, seeking inspiration for a rousing speech to deliver to his comrades... “...We must recall the examples of Exalted Godfrey and Exalted Sigismund, who crafted righteous Empires from the disparate human Kingdoms…” The words echoed through the hospital near Metz, upon the eve of the Sixth Empire. “...We also recall the blessings the Creator poured forth on Exalted Godfrey, and pray too that He may bless us in our endeavours...” And as the proclamation had been read aloud, the sick and the wounded, battered and crippled - those lucky enough to have been left with their hands intact - signed the Lorraine, their deafening cheers echoing the halls. And with them, a burnt, bandaged man praised his new Emperor… “...We have seen our heroes make an army that is unstoppable, and for those who have perished for the greater good we shall build up their glory - their spirits shall ascend to immortality and forever remain within the thoughts of the living...” The Dragon Knights stood triumphant before Emperor Aurelius, pride overcoming them as he spoke, as he praised their deeds and those of their fallen battle brothers. The last Coalition War of Atlas had ended, leaving thousands dead in its wake. “...You have forced the world to witness that we are here perpetually to stand in shining everlasting glory. You, my warriors, are my thoughts that illuminate the darkness that others may cross. You are one with your Emperor, our souls are joined at my will. To Death and Glory! Hail our names! Hail Mankind!” Holding the victorious banner of Alstreim high, Jan chanted the Imperial anthem in Waldenian - joined by hundreds upon the square of Karlstadt… ...But once he spoke, to them he delivered but a simple battle cry, one exclaimed from the heart and with utmost commitment, loyalty and fierceness, soon joined by a hundred others. “GOTT, ALSTREIM, RENATIA! VICTORY FOR THE REICH!” A hundred lances dropped as one, aimed like an arrow towards the Orenian living wall. As one, as if it were a dream, the Renatian host pushed forth, banners fluttering in the wind. The fearsome knights of Renatia charged onwards to victory. Towards death and martyrdom. And as they gained ground, as the fleeting, foggy forms warped into mailed Orenians, bearing the flags of Haense, Adria, Fenn - the sounds of battle faded in Jan’s ears. His lance sought its target, and one by one his memories faded, his thoughts drowned out one by one, save for the final truth. Someday, all dreams must end. [!] Word spreads across the Renatian realm that Ser Jan Sigmar, the Blood Raven, knight and blacksmith, had succumbed to his wounds incurred at the Siege of Helena, after three Saint’s days of healing efforts that ultimately proved unsuccessful. His last will, translated from Waldenian, made its way to the relevant parties. MY LAST WILL AND TESTAMENT @Areln @LoLzboi @TrendE -=(x)=- Over sixty years I have served Renatus and the Realm of Man with unwavering loyalty and dedication, my blade and counsel pledged to the rightful Divine Emperor of Mankind. While the treacherous insurrection plaguing our domains has not broken my resolve, it has in my final days shattered my trust in the ties we had painstakingly crafted through the decades, the supposed brotherhood of Man we once shared. Thus I amend this document, and leave no word nor recompense to traitors who would besmirch my name and my legacy as a faithful Canonist, thrice Crusader, and His Divine Imperial Majesty’s Dragon Knight, but a warning: They who would not be brothers to us, shall be subjects. I have no doubt in the abilities of the Renatian Legion, which I pledge, as it befits the honor of true, loyal soldiers, to carry on this struggle until the final victory over the pretenders, and the day of reckoning upon which all traitors to the Crown shall be judged for their ungodly deeds. -={x}=- I hereby appoint my beloved wife, Adelheid, Lady of Alstreim, as the executor of the remainder of this decree, to ensure its faithful interpretation to the word. As my legal heir, the sole fitting candidate of good standing and my blood, I hereby name Corwin of Alstreim. Upon him I bestow my riches, domains and titles, by right: he shall inherit the lands of Alstreim and Blackwater, and call himself the Keeper of the Blood Chalice and the Opal Crown, and the Blood Raven of Lorraine. -=(x)=- It is my wish that my personal belongings are distributed as follows: To Corwin of Alstreim, I leave the relic blade of Alstreim - my greatsword Mordred, and my ring of the Imperial Dragon Knight. May they serve him well in defiance of the enemies of the Crown. To Corwin of Alstreim, I leave the Opal Crown of the Royal Trade Federation of Sutica, the Blood Chalice of the Northern Atlas Alliance, and my golden Blessed Cross of Lorraine, in hopes that he shall recognize the worth of these relics and their service to the legacy of Alstreim. To Corwin of Alstreim, I leave the leather coat which my father, Wilhelm, passed on to me upon the day I began my march towards Elba, more than a hundred years ago. To his care, I entrust my faithful raven companions, Godfrey and Tancred. To Adelheid, Lady of Alstreim, I leave the house at Owyn’s Lane of Helena, my wedding ring and my medallion to keep safe, and one final note: We shall meet once more. To Lewin of Lorenz-Alstreim and Blackwater, I leave a ferrum-tipped spear with a simple reminder: Life is a dream. To what remains of the Holy Mother Church not under the grasp of Haensetic traitors and Josephite pretenders, I pledge the holy relic in my possession, the embalmed finger of Saint Michael of Cordobe, and a sum of a thousand minas. It is my solemn wish that after this war, once the divine and earthly unity of Man is restored, a portion of this sum is directed towards the construction of a memorial to the fallen martyrs of Elba. To Ser Darius Ault, I pledge a thousand minas with a request to put them to use in his craft of death, towards the eradication of all who fly the flag of rebellion against the Imperial Throne. To this man I was honored to call a knightly brother, who embodies the heroic principles of the saviors of Man, the Dragon Knights, I issue a request to, should my heir prove himself worthy in the days to come, restore upon him the knightly titles which had once been bestowed upon me. Any other personal possessions I might have, I entrust to the care of Adelheid, Lady of Alstreim, to keep or distribute as she sees fit. -=(x)=- Lastly, it is my final wish that my remains be preserved according to the ancient Teutonic custom, and that they be interred within the crypts of Helena alongside my fallen brothers. GOD WITH US 𝔍𝔞𝔫 ℜ𝔦𝔱𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔳𝔬𝔫 𝔄𝔩𝔰𝔱𝔯𝔢𝔦𝔪 Ser JAN SIGMAR, Imperial Dragon Knight of Alstreim, Renatus and Waldenia, Lord of Blackwater, Blood Raven of Lorraine, Keeper of the Blood Chalice and the Opal Crown, Savior and Liberator of the Sutican Realm
  13. ”And so the Orenians reveal their debt to the dark forces further,” remarked one Lewin of Blackwater, fully committed to breaking the chains that shackle the folk of Orenia to bloodthirsty dark sorcerers.
  14. With solemn disappointment, Lewin of Blackwater cast a look over the dozens of Orenian bodies littering Leuven, drawing his spear from an unlucky Haenseman’s neck. It was a painful sight to behold, he thought – the ill-disciplined armies of Marna faltering and breaking upon the first charge, solidifying his resolve to eradicate those who would sign pacts with dark forces to claim victory from Imperial grasp. To the man he felled, he mumbled a quiet apology. “Better that you had fallen to my blade than endured an eternity in shackles, in debt to the King of Sky-Daemons.” Not one for celebrations, he nonetheless took part in the victorious battle chant of Renatus, bashing his spear upon his buckler. “Gott, Alstreim, Renatia – Victory for the Reich!” Lewin exclaimed, in honor of his family locked in sky-daemon stasis.

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