Maiyun

Despite having little notion of how this message got into her hands, an elven youth nodded with approval. Unbidden, her fingers curled into a display of agreement for the knight's challenge- A prominent thumbs up. "Beat his ass." She proclaimed sagely, a moment before her twin came into the room to throw something at her. Unprovoked.

There was the faintest latching of the door as the wizard bustled across the threshold of her home, groceries in hand and children in her arms. She chattered amiably towards the nanny as the dutiful woman sought to relieve her burden, and yet .. There was a grimness in the air. In the tightness of her mouth. Nesrin glanced to the table, where a letter sat open. Her eyes scanned the contents of it, and her features turned quite ashen. She rushed up the stairs in search of her own Kortrevich, with words of comfort and tea following soon after.

╔══ ≪ ° ❈ ° ≫ ══╗ With the utmost delight, we cordially extend these invitations in eager anticipation of the union of the esteemed Ladyship, Nesrin Nadia Carrion-Tuvyic, and the gracious Lordship, Kazimir Georg Kortrevich. The joyous occasion of their wedding shall grace the afternoon within the sacred walls of the Chapel of Aldersberg, by the authority of Bishop Lorina. Ceremony The sacred bond between the bride and groom shall be sealed in the time-honored tradition, as they exchange their vows and rings within the Chapel of Aldersberg under the watchful eye of the most holy. Celebration Following the sacred ceremony, a brief intermission will allow guests the opportunity to return to their abodes for a change of attire. Upon their reassembly in Veletz, the festivities will culminate in an evening of revelry. The tavern, nestled just beyond the grand front gates, shall come alive with the rhythms of dance, the melodies of music, and the clinking of glasses, as we raise them to toast the harmonious union of these two illustrious houses. Special Invitations Her Ladyship, Ileana Kortrevich of Jerovitz, and her noble pedigree. The Baron of Marignan, Karl von Theonus, and his noble pedigree. The Duke of Adria, Markus Sarkozic, and all of his citizenry. Her Most Esteemed Ladyship, Klara van Aert, and whomever she chooses to bring. The Lord Avram Carrion, and the rest of the bridal house. Sir Gaspard of Adria. Lady Esther of Velec. The Haeseni-Wizard, Haus. Lady Sarah and her wife, if she so chooses. The Lord Alasdair, and Marian. The Lord Hamish Kortrevich, as the father of the groom. The hosts gladly welcome the inhabitants of the nations of Haense and Veletz, as both of them hold differing ties to the once war-fraught realms. Signed, Nesrin Nadia Carrion-Tuvyic Her Ladyship, Nesrin Nadia Carrion-Tuvyic, Heir to House Carrion-Tuvyic Kazimir Georg Kortrevich His Lordship, Kazimir Georg Kortrevich

Real.

The wizard of Klarov overlooked the missive belatedly, sifting through the words as though she were looking for something. Whatever she found, or did not find, her brows pinched together in a somewhat indecisive expression. Pensive, she rose from her pondering to place a kettle on the fire, gazing into the space between the bricks of the hearth as though it might provide the answers she was searching for.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────• The Westward Star An artistic depiction of the astronomical event to come. ______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ ┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊ ⋆˚          ✧. ┊          ⋆ ★ I, Nesrin Carrion-Tuvyic, Wizard of Klarov, have spent many a night peering into the night sky, pondering the movement of the stars. From this, I have determined that a star-studded occurrence will grace the open skies of our newly-settled Adrian Lands in the days to come. In the spirit of the natural delight our most wonderful realm offers us, the Duchy of Adria extends an open invitation to those willing to make the journey to join them for an informal night under the stars, basking in the glory of the heavens. Waiting on the stars to fall, the revelers can expect a variety of conversation, music, and infamously eccentric drinking games. And, of course, all of the refreshments are free, and invitations are conveniently not required to participate in the fun. As a note, fighting will not be tolerated. Leave your swords and your attitudes at home. Formal attire will not be enforced, dress as it pleases you. ______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ [To be held in a month’s time, within the city of Klarov.] •─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

The missive found its way to the wizard of Klarov belatedly, once she had scrubbed the blood from the latest attack by the foul Canons Regular out from underneath her fingernails. The Carrion cast a hand through the mess of curls that could scarcely be called hair, unable to muster what she felt should have been elation at the news. Peace, the expulsion required to create it .. "But at what cost?" She murmured. Her thoughts turned beyond the impending battle to their latest victim, who she could only hope would survive recovery, but lingered most fearfully on the child she knew they carried. When life hung in the balance, the arcane could only do so much. And so the wizard did the only thing she could do. She prayed.

A young wizarding woman lifted the brim of her large, feathered hat to peruse the missive from where it hung. She regarded it with caution, murmuring to herself. "Well, ea suppose it may be solved sooner than ea had thought. The timing am .. convenient. Incredibly so." Skepticism tainted the hope for peace that she held, unlikely to be dissuaded from such a notion until all was finalized and she might travel the lands safely once more. And yet at the same moment, her steps away were lighter than when she arrived.

A young wizard leaned over the Kortrevich's shoulder as the missive was pinned. Teeth worried the inside of her lip, gnawing before she spoke in an anxious tone. "Ea did niet realize they could be so .. hateful. Ea mean ea could, it am just .. Ea hoped they would niet be." Nesrin fiddled with her gloves, glancing about. "Ea will need the ink, after vy. Ea have a letter to write."

A strange figure garbed in moss warmed the corner-seat of a booth in a small, seedy tavern. Clawed nails escape the greenery, prising the missive closer to herself. A gurgled laugh could be heard between another swig of whatever frothy concoction it was she was swilling. "It iz az I peeped zo many yearhz ago .. But whu am I to blah I told lat zo, when there ahm none to lizzen.." The tankard clanks softly as it rests on the surface of the table once more, a small sigh following soon after. "But I did tell lat zo .."

A delinquent of growing infamy kicks up both her feet onto the table, snatching the missive from one of her compatriot's hands. Iskra promptly returns it, that they might read it aloud for her. Raucous, absolutely delighted howls of laughter escape her shaking form soon after, ruddying her features.

Somewhere within the deepest thickets of an ancient forest, a strange, pale creature accepts a letter from one of her compatriots. Flinted red eyes squint over the words scrawled across the surface. Distaste curls around the twisted form of her mouth, marred by small tusks that stretch the skin taut. "I levt for good reazon. A city kovered in dizhonor .. And nowh it pleadz for aid." The goblin shakes her head, pulling the feathered hood back over her skull. Summoning up those around her, the small hunting party continues their chase into the depths, with the words lingering in her mind for some time as she thought it over.