CyyanTea

✶ Thesis of Purity II ✶ “A Final Address” ✶ Issued By ✶ ✶ On the 2nd of Amber’s Cold Year 177SA ✶ Blood and Deceit… A Malaurir has been slain. Bound, kidnapped and later stoned upon the streets by brutes of a foreign nation. It is no surprise that alternative parties utilised the weakened state of our nation to achieve their twisted ambitions - that is a tale that has been spun many times in the centuries since our birth. Whether it be the clashing blades of mali’ame upon our departure from the realm of malin so many ancient moons ago, to the quarrels of mali’aheral that have seen the rise and fall of blood stained cities. We claim purity, we set ourselves apart from the lesser races of the realm with aspirations set by our ancestors. Yet we continue to shed blood so pure and precious. In truth, I wrote my initial document with a passionate fury, ignited by the inadequacy of Theveus Sythaerin - whom I refuse to grant the title of elSohaer any further in my work. I was most certainly accurate in my assumption of a pending storm. Yet now the waves have quelled in size the aftermath leaves more questions: Was it worth the loss? By slaying Braxus Ni’leya "The Martyr" through the callous hands of Celia’nor savages, who he seemed particularly well acquainted with, as a “gift” Theveus Sythaerin has desecrated our silver laws and thus forsaken his purity. He may choose to deny this, many of you may choose to do so, but one can not deny the stain of blood - for once it mares your hands it is not so easily cleansed. I am perplexed as to why Theveus has sought the involvement of a peoples who have so adamantly sought our destruction. Perhaps that was his ambition, rid the world of our ever persistent presence once the power could no longer be held by himself alone. It is a pity to see him place his trust in traitors who have alternated their allegiances so commonly that their treaties must be written in graphite over the daunting permanence of ink. Or perhaps, his relative Ashwyn Sythaerin failed to mention this course of action to Theveus and even he was clueless to the meddling of other forces. I ask, Theveus, was this the glory you anticipated? Our council may be rejuvenated with new souls, prepared to take the mantle and strive forth in their endeavour for self-proclaimed prosperity. Yet the shadow of the past haunts these figures and their ardent attempts. Such sudden power is both questionable and foul, the tenets of democracy have been broken. Your positions are a fallacy for you do not rule Haelun’or - merely remnants, fractures, splinters of a peoples ever desperate for peace and lead astray by souls bound to greed. It is not my desire to tell you what you know, dear reader, nor conform your ideals and beliefs to my own. In fact, I feel I do not need to, for my ambitions have been as any other mali’thill: To see the prosperity, progress and peace that our kin have craved for millennia. At times I have seen such a concept, in fractions and mere glimpses. I saw them in the signing for treaties penned by Lutherien Maery’onn, I saw them in the publication of documents grand and small by the office of Okarir’mali and Okarir’maehr, in the dice thrown of my infant son when surrounded by my brother and sister in arms and the bountiful laughter that followed. I shall smile fondly upon those memories knowing I have lived, loved and lost without regret. Haelun’or as I once knew it, as I hope the history books will recall it, shall remain a fond memory. However, it no longer persists to this day, it has withered. I may never see my tenure as Sohaer. I find such a concept highly unlikely given the present climate and historical cycle - yet I may prosper in peace, safe in the knowledge that my purity has not been tarnished. Blood has not stained my hands and greed is vanquished from my heart. I leave no grand legacy, I leave something far greater: The Truth. I ask you: Theveus Sythaerin, your kin, the pretenders and traitors. Can you say the same? I take my leave of this “tarnished empire”, as Malaurir Seth Calith and a great many mali’thill have before me. ✶ Kaean'leh Thilln Chul'okarae ✶ ✶ Maehr’sae Hiylun’ehya ✶ Signed, Eistalyn Othelu’Maehr A Once Blessed Citizen of the Silver State of Haelun’or

To those whom it may concern, I am well aware that the conflict with Balian happened prior to your accession to Okarir'san, as I claimed in my original missive you were given a feat of a position - one that you should not have to shoulder alone. Any further miscommunication regarding active pacts and diplomacy is a result of lacking documentation - something which was not seen during the tenure of Lutherien Maery'onn. Your honesty is a virtue and I pity you for the sheer amount of work elSohaer has placed upon you, I was not aware you too were responsible for the finance of the nation. Your success cannot be argued, but without worthy leadership your efforts are unfortunately in vein. Perhaps it is a further display of elSohaer inadequacy. Signed, Eistalyn Othelu'Maehr.

✶ Thesis of Purity I ✶ “A Tarnished Empire” ✶ Issued By ✶ ✶ On the 2nd of Amber’s Cold Year 177SA ✶ Preface of The Author… The purpose of this document is to indulge the blessed citizens of el’cihi in my opinion, fabricated from the facts that haunt our nation. It is not my intention to slander individuals named in this document, but rather highlight their shortcomings in hopes of achieving progress and subsequent purity. A concept that has avoided us consistently since the pitiful reign of Kolvar Uradir, during which he proclaimed an empire after conquering a near vacant forest and saw the decline of our populace due to his neglect of internal affairs. So consumed by power, that progress was left entirely forgotten, rotting like an untended plant. I fear that the present citizenry are unaware of my tenure as Okarir’mali which spanned several elven months - thus producing hesitance in the legitimacy of my knowledge of el’cihi, its people and council. During the term of Lutherien Maery’onn, I tended the tavern, clinic and eternal library as Okarir’mali. It was my duty as a councillor to produce a plethora of consistent, engaging events that brought equal entertainment and knowledge to the nation. Additional organisation and trade accompanied my tasks in an effort to expand the generous knowledge provided by our collection of books, and I ensured health was an ever present priority of our council. Finally, as many great mali’aheral have, I served as a Sillumir during, prior and after the office of elOkarir’tir Malithor Nullivari whom I was well acquainted with. Let this serve as a portfolio of my knowledge, experience and the hand that has shaped my present opinion. The Fallacy of Progress… On the 4th Amber’s Cold 168 SA I challenged elSohaer Theveus Sythaerin for the position of Sohaer due to his persistent neglect of his duties and responsibilities to his people. It was the ever merciful judgement of the blessed citizenry to allow Theveus a second chance, thus igniting his second tenure in office. I had accepted defeat with a hopeful heart, that my prior threat had provoked a new-found motivation within elSohaer and may perhaps propel Haelun’or to a revitalised state of prosperity. Yet in the nine years that have passed since our election very few of his grand promises have come to fruition. In an attempt to salvage the political crisis in which we found ourselves, Yera Syleria, revered for her near immaculate leadership of Kaethul and thus responsible for its success - even despite their frequent association with dark spawn, was appointed as Okarir’san. Alas, mere elven days later we found ourselves upon the brink of conflict with one of our oldest Valah allies: Balian. No additional alliances have been documented, which can hardly be placed as a fault upon the shoulders of the already burdened vassal leader. It has scarcely been the responsibility of an Okarir to maintain healthy relations with the rest of the world - but it would seem this is another task elSohaer can not quite manage alone. More enticing prospects may have been seen in the position afforded to Ashywn Sythaerin, who was appointed as Okarir’akaln. I had met the girl prior to her appointment and whilst exceedingly young for the position I found she possessed the spirit to rival the challenge. Yet following the loss of a staggering 10,000 mina to once allied kingdoms I can not see how the young elfess was expected to salvage such a decrepit treasury. This serves as a particularly interesting point, as elSohaer had boasted the growth in economy since the beginning of his tenure. Yet with taxes left uncollected, and unnecessary retributions paid due to his inability to mediate a situation, it would seem this is another of his amounting lies. Perhaps the only worthy councillor elSohaer has appointed is in fact, his wife: Cresence Sythaerin, whom since taking the position of Okarir’tanya has constructed a series of concepts from colleges of magic, to the potential of magical research - all of which is a considerably noble pursuit. Alas, without a platform nor aid in the construction of her marvellous ideas they have yet to bless the citizenry. Whilst Cresence Sythaerin may provide her husband with ceaseless dedication, it would seem he had not conjured the curtsy to return such affections - perhaps that may be a contributing factor to their notably empty nest, despite years of undoubtedly blissful marriage. I would write extensively on the state of elSillumir, our blessed protectors. Yet I find I have little to write, for there have been no frequent training sessions nor incentive for recruitment. This is not at all surprising, for who would want to serve a Sohaer that does not serve them? Admittedly, I was appointed as Tilruir’mali to once more revive the office and revisit responsibilities that I am well acquainted with. Yet with no other councillor available to aid me and only the mere position of Tilruir, meaning I had no Tilruir to aid me either, such tasks were near impossible. As a result: no Okarir’mali has ever been appointed during the reign of el’Sohaer Theveus Sythaerin, leaving our culture to dwindle like summer to autumn. Information in regards to who maintains what position are admittedly sparse, thus I have resorted to placing several missives together in an effort to create a picture of the present state of our council. As elSohaer has failed to document his council since the departure of his predecessor - leaving each position’s purpose and Okarir a near mystery. In light of Theveus Sythaerin’s consistent shortcomings, another challenger has dared to enter the fray, Malaurir Braxus Ni’leya. History texts sing songs both fond and foul of this challenger, from his succession following Kolvar Uradir’s reign of Haelun’or during Alamaris. It was publicised that the treasury had been left with a measly 1000 mina, a minimal council which is a similar state of disrepair that we seem to find ourselves in now. Yet as a result of his efforts we prospered, the treasury reached over ten times its prior amount and our military prowess was solidified during his tenure. Alas, a cloud casts a shadow over such a victory: Ivarielle ‘the Pretender’ a name that has been scratched from our history, betrayed the nation during Braxus’ later time as elMaheral. However, that poses a rather fascinating question, can you truly blame the sailor for the storm? Since such dark days Haelun’or has persisted, prospered even, although that remains to be seen in recent years, perhaps the sailor was more well equipped to battle such a storm than we have given him credit for. Regardless of his extensive history, it can be certain that such a passionate adversary is both an honour and a valuable asset to our blessed nation. Tarnished Purity… Perhaps the most devastating news to slither through the streets of el’cihi is the recent resignation of el’Maheral Seth Calith. Many of us have observed the trials and tribulations of such a revered figure since his initial appointment during Almaris. He has undoubtedly seen the succession of our nation against all odds. Without his ever steady hand to aid elSohaer, who is so obviously clueless of his role, it does make one fear what the outcome may be. His opinions upon the state of our nation are apparent through his words, our “tarnished empire” has suffered, and continues to suffer. It is time we remove the cotton from our ears and eyes to see the truth as it is. I can not be certain of the future, however one can, with all the correct information, formulate an educated guess on what may be if we continue to refuse change. We can not achieve progress when faced with stagnancy, nor can we dream to attain any ounce of purity. Until this threat of inactivity is vanquished, we will never prosper. ✶ Kaean'leh Thilln Chul'okarae ✶ ✶ Maehr’sae Hiylun’ehya ✶ Signed, Eistalyn Othelu’Maehr Blessed Citizen of the Silver State of Haelun’or

Time, for a mere moment, paused entirely as the elfess pored over yet another missive, further emphasising the chaos of her homeland. "elMaheral has forsaken what little remains of el'cihi and elSohaer is nearly entirely absent. Flames of prosperity have been suffocated to little more than dim embers... I do wonder, can this be salvaged?" Light creases formed upon her brows as she spoke to her husband, whom was far less concerned with the political state of the nation but ever supportive of his wife's endeavours. "I shall need my quill..."

A summer's breeze disturbed the otherwise serene elfess' as another missive found its way to her hands. An unfinished game of chess sat at her right, paused in some eternal stalemate, gathering dust. A grin tugged at the corner of her lips as she stirred, plucking a piece from the board that had been neglected previously. "Time has a strange way of unraveling what has been done." She mused, to the well preened avian that had delivered the missive over which she pored. "A snake cannot hide when the grass has been cut, and the devotion of kin runs dry when caught by the sycth. Two challenges in one tenure is hardly an ode to prosperity. Yet two victories would be a clear sign of poison, disease... deceit. It is your move, el'Sohaer, let us hope it is better than your last." With that she rose, somewhat lazily in her motion, toward her quill and a previously disregarded parchment.

"My lady..." Uttered a timid voice, as the door to the Baroness' chambers clicked open. "A letter has arrived." "Ich should imagine it has." Came another voice, light-hearted in its approach. The Dame rose from her seat at her vanity and sought to pluck the letter from the hand's of her household servants. "Spasiba, Agafa." She mused, piercing the seal with a worn dagger so that she might pore over its contents. At the letter's conclusion, a subtle untamed laughter escaped the Baroness. "Shall I fetch an ink pot..?" Agafa piped up, already halfway out the door. "Nie, nie..." Rosalind spoke, quelling the laughter that had escaped her lungs as she did so. "Ich shall remain true to my words and let the matter lie, Ich ceased my quarrel with those of lesser judgement at the battle of Winburgh... Now, where are ae littles doves?" A smile blessed her expression as she rose, casting the letter to side before seeking the company of her children.

( Sorry! Didn't realise who you played lol! )

(Please keep in mind this is a private address and not public knowledge, do not use it to meta game, it is to add flavour to roleplay as it's easier done through the forums than Minecraft mechanics.)

Lead by An Ewe ✧ ────────────────⊱❦⊰──────────────── ✧ ✧ ────────────────⊱❦⊰──────────────── ✧ [ ! ] This is a Private address to house Weiss, deliver to their household alone with enough copies for each to read - each letter is hand written. [ ! ] To the blood of Weiss, In the past saints day my daughter, Irena Valkonen, was insulted, bullied and threatened by a child known as ‘Petra Luceran’, during which the following occurred: The child threatened Irena with the following statement: “If I tell you I shall have to cut off your ears'' after my daughter had inquired about her exclusion from the conversation between the Luceran and Adelina van Leuven. A toy that my daughter had gifted to the brother of Adelina van Leuven was snatched from him, insults were hurled in regards to my intellect as her mother and additional passive aggressive behaviours have been present through the majority of their interactions, some of which I have witness, despite Irena’s best attempts at civil friendship. Other individuals present have confirmed these happenings, alongside the testament of another noble woman who validated the claim of Petra’s frequent poor mannerisms. It is common practice for a noble household to seek retribution in the wake of insult to one’s honour. I found it proper to reprimand the child with a singular strike to her face, a resolution a great many houses, our own included, have utilised. Especially in regards to quelling disrespect and discouraging antagonistic behaviour, as displayed by the Luceran child. That is where this matter ought to have concluded; with just punishment and subsequent forgiveness. Alas, the Viscountess Ofeliya Weiss and her mother, Marian Weiss, sought to intercept my punishment in an attempt to defend the child without knowledge of what had occurred prior to the confrontation. I announced the sins of the stranger they so adamantly defended, only for the girl to denounce my accusations and place blame on my daughter. Rather than defending their kin, as the maxims of our house suggest, they instead maintained their belief in the child’s innocence and persisted in their attempts to take the matter into their own hands. This is where I find grave concern in the state of my noble lineage. Lion’s blood flows through my veins and whilst it may be long forgotten to the Viscountess, the den she flaunts was once home to Weiss far greater than her, it was once home to me. In light of this bizarre happening and ensuing chaos, house Valkonen has suspended the agreement that had been maintained between ourselves and the late Viscount Weiss. Weiss shall no longer hold a seat upon the familial court of house Valkonen until an apology has been written. It is my hope that the rest of my kin shall see fault in these happenings and advise the Viscountess appropriately. I take no pleasure in severing the ties of my blood kin, alas I would rather no pride at all, than a pride of sheep. ✧ ────────────────⊱❦⊰──────────────── ✧ Signed, HER LADYSHIP, ROSALIND LAURELIE VALKONEN Baroness of Svargrad, Dame of Hanseti-Ruska.

A Letter of Resolution [ ! ] This is a Private address to house Luceran, delivered to Esmeray Luceran alone, there is a single copy - hand written. [ ! ] Firress Esmeray Luceran, I write to you in regards to the behaviour of your daughter in the past saints day. It was brought to my attention that ‘Petra Luceran’, who is two or three years my daughter’s senior by my own judgement, and firress Adelina van Leuven hurled insults and threats toward my youngest child, Irena Valkonen. I am certain your child has recounted the events to you through her own eyes, alas I shall detail the happenings as they were - for I have witnesses from other individuals present during the brief conflict, furthermore a noble lady Ruthern spoke to me of your daughter’s improper mannerisms as further evidence of her character. To recount a few of the key events that occurred that evening: my daughter was continuously excluded from conversation - after which Petra insisted it was to shield her from the discovery of a body, which is improbable as the discovery was made after this series of events. During this conversation your daughter conjured the following threat: “If I am to tell you I shall have to cut off your ears.”, additionally a toy, which I had given my daughter, was gifted to Adelina van Luven’s brother by my child - which was promptly taken from him and additional questions were raised in regards to myself including insult of my intellect. I have excused the manners of the firress Adelina van Leuven on account of her apology. However, your daughter showed no remorse for her callous behaviour. It is common practice for nobility to reprimand the impertinence of common folk, a practice I am not often privy to. Alas, my kin have spilled blood for our kongzem and basic respect is all we demand. In light of this situation I sought to strike your daughter once, a simple matter of martial punishment as retribution to the torment she caused my daughter. As a result of unlawful interference, that was not delivered. I shall grant mercy and allow the situation to rest even with the absence of her just punishment. However, should I hear of another foul interaction between your daughter and any other innocent child, I shall be sure to deliver a swift rectification worthy of her barbarism. ✧ ────────────────⊱❦⊰──────────────── ✧ Signed, HER LADYSHIP, ROSALIND LAURELIE VALKONEN Baroness of Svargrad, Dame of Hanseti-Ruska.

Golden rays illuminated the feathers of an avian, as they delivered a letter to the hands of a serene elfess, whom sat beside the remnants of a chess board that displayed an undetermined victory. A smile flashed across her face, conjuring a rosy hue to her previously pallid complexion. With a light hum she plucked a pawn from its place and set it in a considerably strategic position. "Lovely..."

"Perhaps another time." Mused the gentle voice of the challenger, as her tea cup sought its porcelain counterpart thus creating a subtle clink. "The seed of your good intent is planted anew, elSohaer, foster it and we may perhaps find friendship upon common ground." With that the missive was discarded beside delicate cakes, adorn with intricate floral designs, and the ever observant gaze of the challenger flicked toward the wilting sun.

"To conjure the belief of those around me, I must first believe in myself." A smile flashed across the elfess' face as she cast her vote - pausing to mutter something akin to a prayer to Larihei. "Maehr'sae Hiylun'ehya."

ROTTING ROOTS 4th of Amber’s Cold 168 SA “Maehr’sae Hiylun’ehya” pertains to the values that serve as the basis of our culture, first proclaimed by our blessed Larihei when faced with the tyranny of stagnancy, imposed by those who would see the flames of our progress snuffed permanently. Yet through such oppression we prevailed, and the state of Haelun’or was formed from a unified peoples that have persisted for centuries under the guise of Larihei’s legacy. Alas, progress without unrelenting dedication wilts to inactivity and the foundations upon which our nation is founded threatens to crumble to ash. Maheralan Sohaeran’ehya have passed, neglecting their mantle and the responsibilities that are intrinsically tied to their position - with increasingly few proving their worth, in recent decades. Prior to my departure, imposed upon me by dwindling health, I served our motherland as Okarir’mali - which at such a time possessed a variation of responsibilities, including the maintenance of the tavern, clinic, and our most esteemed eternal library. My purpose was defined and I never once faltered in my dedication to elcihi'thilln nor her citizens, as myself and the council of Luthrien Maery’onn sought to combat the stagnancy that had festered within our city. The wind travels and I find myself upon Haelun’orian soil once more, compelled to retrieve my quill in an effort to salvage our dwindling state. Sohaer Theveus Sythaerin, I challenge you for the position of Sohaer - with the intention to vanquish the infection you have allowed to take root in our nation. kaean'leh thilln chul'okarae Maehr’sae Hiylun’ehya Signed, Eistalyn Othelu’Maehr

"Nie!" The Baroness snapped, over the sounds of clattering cutlery and her children babbling amongst themselves. "Ich do niet wish to read another missive of the world's dire state, vy may dispo-" "It regards vyr cousin, my lady, the Viscount." Agafa protested, finally attaining Rosalind's attention as she thrust the letter forth into her hands. A silence settled upon the dinning room, extended even to the small children who now peered curiously toward their mother - whom was engrossed in the letter once sealed with the emblem of her kin. "What does it say, Mamej?" Little Hadeon inquired, near standing in his seat in some meek effort to steal a glance at whatever it was that had snatched his mother's attention. "Da!" Announced his sister, in a similarly curious tone. "What is it?" "Agafa, prepare the children a bath." Rosalind demanded in an uncharacteristically emotionless tone, before hauling herself to her feet and seeking to swiftly depart the dinning room. Tucked amongst aging books, and draped in a thick layer of dust, resided another missive of similar content. The Dame plucked it from its place upon the shelf and settled in her room to read the contents of both. "Surely it is a curse. A vice.... by Godan save our wretched blood be saved and dispel that forsaken blade from this realm - from our hands."

Rosalind stirred from her gloomy chamber, frail despite the excessive rest she had been afford. The hearth had scarcely been lit since the vanishing of the frost, leaving little more than a singular candle to light the chamber. The Dame had regarded the contents of the letter several times since its arrival, alas it still did not seem to solidify the boy's death in her mind. In her absence the boy had grown to a man, near ready to proclaim his oath, and in her absence he had perished. That unshakable burden settled heavy upon her shoulders.

Whispers, of deeds ungodly and foul, haunted courtly halls - clinging to lavish drapes and furnishings alike, until the air was thick with the tension of gossip. It conjured a rage in the flesh of the Haeseni Dame, whom had resigned herself to her office in some meek effort to conclude her courtly affairs. It was not often a woman was afford the respect of her male counter-part, for the fate of women is a fickle artefact. Eventually, the Baroness relented to storm of her mind and sought a quill. A bouquet of lavish roses would arrive for the Princess Nataliya, a note attached and written in cursive and concealed within a dainty envelope:

I-Lady approved.

PROSPERITY THROUGH ADVERSITY THE BIRTH OF THREE ✧ ────────────────⊱❦⊰──────────────── ✧ ✧ ────────────────⊱❦⊰──────────────── ✧ ISSUED BY ON THIS 4TH DAY OF WZUVAR AG BYVCA OF 514 E.S. ✧ ────────────────⊱❦⊰──────────────── ✧ VA BIRODEO HERZENAV AG EDLEVRIK, Long have the Baron and Baroness of house Valkonen been occupied with the preservation of their Kongzem, ever dedicated to their Borsas and Sistras in arms, through the raging battles that have plagued man-kind. Yet amidst the burdens of war, the house has been blessed with the birth of three children: upon the 20th day of Vzmey ag Hyff of 513 E.S, bearing the Haeseni astrology: The Comet or alternatively The Crow. Their eldest and heir, Hadeon Audo Valkonen, whose name means ‘destruction’, has been named for his forefather: Audo Weiss - ever adored by the baron and baroness, and to whom they owe their knighthood. Their second son, Alaric Walter Valkonen, whose name means ‘to be honored’, has been named for his forefather: Walter Weiss - ever revered by his cousin, the Baroness, and the source of her unrelenting strength. Their daughter, Hyacinth Verónica Valkonen, whose name means ‘precious stone’, has been named for her foremother: The late Verónica Frisketa Isabella Maria Lucia Elisabetta Weiss - ever beloved by the baron and baroness, to whom they owe their joy. May Godan guide them to virtue and honour, for the betterment of Hanseit-Ruska and her people. ✧ ────────────────⊱❦⊰──────────────── ✧ Her Ladyship, ROSALIND LAURELIE VALKONEN, Baroness of Szargrad, Knight to the Order of the Crow, Lady Custodian of Hanseti-Ruska. His Lordship, MIKHAIL VALKONEN, Baron of Szargrad, Knight of the Order of the Crow, Master of the Hunt. ✧ ────────────────⊱❦⊰──────────────── ✧ ✧ ────────────────⊱❦⊰──────────────── ✧ “VE KAROSZ SZAR.” “THE CROW’S SPEAR.” ✧ ────────────────⊱❦⊰──────────────── ✧

"Peace..." Rang like a hollow promise from the Dame's mouth. Once she'd assured her children that they shall know it well, they should bathe in the glory of men-united in peace. "We tried peace." Her voice echoed once more, addressing no one in particular - for she stood quite alone in ancient halls, lined with stony eyes that gazed upon her being. "Yet they spat it back in our faces! They laughed..." Metal met the wooden floorboards as her pacing quickened, each clank reminiscent of the battles that haunted her soul. Once, this metal frame had hosted a woman of virtue and behind her chest-plate had been a heart of gold, ever intent on mending the products of conflict. Yet now, as the candlelight flickered across the room, illuminating her arcane blade, a new notion settled in the flesh of the war-bound lady - a tarnish upon her heart. "Let them laugh." She proclaimed, her voice laced with venom as she lit the parchment upon the dwindling candle providing the flame with fuel enough to satisfy its relentless hunger. "Let them laugh from their graves."

Pale sunlight trickled through the meagre parting of the thick drapes, dancing across the wooden floors adorn with a rug, worn from use, and several toys disregarded by their infant owners. Soldiers carved from oak, and patriotically painted black and yellow, had been arranged in a nonsensical manner beside their toppled steeds. The scene of this miniature retinue provoked a subtle laughter from the Dame as she scooped up a plush bear from the disarray of toys and delivered it to one of her sleeping babes, who had stirred upon the arrival of the morn. Another, one of three, stirred in his crib - threatening to wail, and wake his siblings, until granted the attention of his dotting mother, who was content to oblige. "My Lady." A matured voice hollered in a half-whisper. "Another missive has arrived." The nursery door clicked open, revealing the Valkonen housekeeper who extended a parchment that still possessed the sent of freshly pressed ink. "Spasiba, Agafa." The Baroness returned with a sleep-infested smile, before promptly plucking the missive from the elderly woman's grasp. Rosalind pored over the contents of the missive, whilst simultaneously rocking her infant son - too possessed by drowsiness to seize whatever it was that had consumed his mother's attention. Crows shattered the otherwise peaceful atmosphere, their caws echoed through the frost-ridden streets of Valdev, provoking the Dame to recall the memories associated with the parchment at hand: blood-soaked fields, cannon fire, groans of the dying and namely the silence of the dead - always broken by crows, the emblem of her Kongzem, bound to the battlefield as she was and similarly desperate to fulfil a hunger. "Vy have never known a time of peace." She uttered from her trance, rescued from the true depths of her thoughts by the coo of her children. "But vy will. Vy will know spring, summer and the joys of humanity, relishing their freedom. Vy will niet know tryanny, niet as Ich have. Know that the world has fought for vy, our children, for vyr futures." Only now had she realised the vulnerability in her voice as she lay her heir in his crib, planting a kiss upon his brow as he settled. Similar attentions were deliver to her second son, still grasping his tattered bear, and daughter who was angelic in nature since her birth and had not once roused. "Krusae Zwy Kongzem..."

A smile graced the expression of Dame Rosalind as she recalled the events, still wiping the blood that had been ingrained into her knightly armour. "Vy have given vyr whole life." She reiterated, as if speaking to the Queen herself when she was in fact, quite alone. "Ich am glad vy have been shown the love of vyr people, vyr majesty..."

The Lady-Knight drove a whetstone across her beaten blade as she hummed the tune crafted by her dear friend. As her labour persisted she progressed into singing the song in its entirety for her dear Husband, whom was undoubtedly lingering nearby. @ClatterCake

(BRB I am crying, this was the character I applied to the server with back in 2019.)

It's taken me a while to reply to this (I've been a busy student) but thank you so much! I could not have hoped to find a better community than Haense and I feel my time on LoTC has been extended! LOL I love you all <3