Seuss

Ser Joakim Colborn looks over the response. "Ah, so that is what it was. Nej matter then. I will bid 3,000 mina instead of the previous offer. Would nej want to gift my friends of Koyo-Kuni with a cowards' weapon I picked up off a walking corpse."

Ser Joakim Colborn reads over the auction, especially the description of the weapon. He offers forward his own bid - a trade and mina offering. "I offer a weapon recovered by an undead raid on Haense lands, with an inclusion of two thousand mina."

Ser Joakim Colborn was carrying large pallets of building material to and from castle Vitraval to the Scyfling church when a servant brought over the missive from the Dwarves. He placed the materials down with a huff of air before taking his time to read it over. "Brodir, it is the young princess' job to talk. You and I just have to swing weapons."

Goan Aldin worked quickly as his sister contemplated the stars and her destiny. Like many times in the past, he readied a horse, although this time more than one. Likewise, he readied not one carriage but two, and instead of a small boat he prepped a quick sail. His experience shown, but the reason behind it unknown.

Joakim Colborn stands in the barracks of the Brotherhood of Saint Karl. In his right hand he holds his powerful mace that he wields no matter where he goes. In his right, the mighty round shield bearing the face of House Colborn. He stands stoically overlooking the bridge coming and going from the city of New Valdev. His eyes poised on friends and strangers alike who return and depart.

Joakim Colborn carried the body of Caius Primus all the way from the Hexicanum to Haense. His body faltered under his legs with each step, but he did not give up until the High Pontiff was laid down inside the church. It was there he collapsed. It was there he mourned.

Joakim stares off from the balcony of Vitraval. The smoky sky hanging over the burning landscape that once stood as his family's farmland. The shining cog standing out like a sore thumb. "The Shugo said the master of that cog will be coming to retrieve it. I hope it is done without a problem."

"Commoners." he corrected his fellow soldier

Joakim Colborn was busying himself with his usual training with Stefaniya Edvarda on his shoulders. Their training regiment quite efficient. "I do not think this will be received well, young Bihar. Perhaps go with the back up Duma Bill regarding the citizen doors."

Joakim Colborn did not even hit anyone. He dislikes slander from weaklings.

In the deep woods surrounding Haense did one tree fall after another. Bundles of firewood tied together by the large Scyfling Warrior. Ready to aid his kin with the help their city needs.

"FOR LIBERTY!"

It's not homophobia since I'm not scared of them. t(-u-t)

BOOOOO! Get off the stage! What is this?!

"Congrats, Nataliya." mumbled the Patriarch in his desk of his office. Though he was happy, his expression certainly did not match.

The Lord Speaker released a chuckle as he read the missive for a call to vote. "I like this young guy. He certainly has my vote."

The newly appointed Count read over the missive from the confines of his office - still under construction, though. "Recording the age? That is actually a brilliant idea. This census seems promising." he commented, placing the paper down and getting back to work on his office.

The Patriarch of House Colborn is in the midst of drafting a long overdue rewrite when his servant came into the room with the letter. He had the servant read it out to him, and he looked up. "Ah, the wedding is finally happening. I do hope I can get this done in time and can attend." He expressed, gesturing for the servant to leave as he continued writing his missive.

The Patriarch of House Colborn rubbed his hand after having to extensively translate all of the soggy papers to a fresh hardback book before the Baroness of Amador lost it all. Luckily, he has always been talented with the quill, and managed to save the work entirely.

Carolus Colborn read the missive that was left by his gateway. He leaned his hoe against the gate and used his forearm to wipe away at the sweat on his face. "All this effort is being wasted on fighting. We should not have settled so close to the wastelands if these problems kept persisting."

Carolus Colborn threw a blanket over the old man sitting in his office on a rocking chair. It was always nice to see him wide-eyed about something, and now was a moment for the young Patriarch to also celebrate.

The hidden Colborn stuck along the walls of the old city of Fenn, kept away from the eyes of guards and watchmen with the aid of his Bowie Camouflage. He examined the ever-changing elevation of the walls and took note of the best places to knock down the stones to allow entrance. He wrote down the cardinal directions and began planning ahead for when the forces of Haense will take down Clan Torathi for good.

The defeated Colborn stared over the balcony of the palace. A few hours have passed since he and Ser Vanhart ended their brief talk. He stared out over the square where he could see the bustling people of Haense calling out for the traitor and urging to hunt her down. His monotone expression lacked any emotion as his chin raised, slowly looking up towards the bright blue sky. His hands laid flat on the half wall in front of him, and the gentle breeze of the north pushed the blonde curls to the side of his face, opening up his eyes to the chilling air. He did not blink, because his eyes began welling up and he knew if he blinked he would not be able to stop himself. He wished his childhood friend would just listen to him. Had she listened, he would not be standing outside in the open air fighting to hold back his costly emotions. But she did not listen - and so he blamed himself for not convincing her harder. The cold wind should have dried out his eyes, but as they watered up it only caused discomfort. His hands that were once laid out flat began to ball up into tight fists. His lower lip quivered for a moment - so he bit down to stop it. He tried to hold back, and he tried to save face. And then he blinked. And then he cried.

Carolus Colborn paced about his lab under Vorenburg, his book and quill in hand as the stench of decaying animal filled the room. On the counter nearby was his successful testing of the Burial Fungi. But after so long, he has come to witness the blooming of the cystal fungi flowers. He continued his studying for many years, but alongside side, his mind was wracked with planning for the future siege. He paced and paced about as he mumbled to himself. "There is much to be done, and we must be swift. What are they even doing when they are not attacking our nations?"