tadabug2000

The daily letters and invitations are delivered by the Rovare's handmaiden, the Miss Blanche. Most were matters already known, until taking note of the invitation from Lord Sigismund. "He has become heir? Good for him." Markings are made on her calendar with a hum.

"Who?" The simple query came of the Rovare, having seen the missive pinned somewhere and half-torn. "Another dog barking at the wind." She then turned back to her walk with her gifted Grayhounds, Bella and Charlie, with low croons. "Kill the treasonous bastards, ai? Ai! What good boys you are!" @blesseuropa

The Lady Rovare received her invitation with a hum of thought, as her gaze slipped towards her courted Knight, Sir Gedeon. A smile coiled upwards, as she began to pen in response her RSVP to the Luncheon.

Lucrezia Rovare's eyes glazed over upon sight of the missive, but nonetheless, she held pride for her nerd brother and his finished thesis.

Lucrezia Rovare received her promised invitation, a smile growing as she took in what was written. "I shall have to be sure to prepare a favour," Neatly placing the invitation away, she would also consider what she might wear!

"A theme.." She considered the nautical theme as she studied the personal invitation. "Do I have anything nautical to wear? What do you get for someone that is boat-themed?" Lucrezia drew a blank and decided to figure it out in the morning!

Hanifah considered the words of her cousins, having only just joined them recently in the stone city. She knew none of these names, and trusted Allah and her family to guide her.

Yet another pamphlet was delivered to the Rovare's keep, a growing number seemingly, all from anonymous writers. "If one must write, at least be able to back up your words. What a pain." She wondered if the servantry needed fuel to keep the hearth, or perhaps her handmaiden needed something to practice her letters with.

Lucrezia Rovare held close to her friend, and Bluecloak Page Aviel. Her leg held a dull ache of pain, bandaged from her earlier strife. She clasped onto the delivered Edict, growing faint as she read the words, the use of her legs leaving her as she crumpled to the ground - hand having fallen away Aviels arm. Her wound re-opened, but her worry was on her family, her friends. "Oh, my brothers.." Her fear, it thudded against her throat, battling to escape. @Digit___

[!] This is a POV post, only to show character development and is not known in roleplay unless explicitly told or you were there. [!] A depiction of a chandelier mid-fall. Strange was the first word to cross the Rovare’s mind. Who was this strange woman sitting within her father’s keep? Who was she to host tea? To call her ‘Dear’? The young Lady sat, and she played, all smiles and hidden thoughts. More joined the party soon enough, a boy with grimy fingers offering a flower. Her brother arrived alongside the Imperial Squire, Gedeon. Soon, even, her father came to join. It was all so very strange. The woman’s tea-mates made their departure, after some more simple conversation. Gedeon left to patrol. There was then four. The ground rumbled, shaking the very foundations of the Castle Oakenwald - the strained chains of a delicate crystal chandelier snapping taut, a roaring whistle sounding as it came hurtling down from above. Crash, crack, splinter. The table broke into pieces, crystal and wood having flown out. Her father, where had he come from?- he shielded her, hovered over the girl. In spite of such, crystal embedded into her leg, blood flowing free. Her vision swam, heart thudding in her throat as she was lifted into her father’s arms, brought to a cushioned seat upon the Oakenwald throne. Something simple, wooden, for those few times a County court may be held. Adonis, he knelt before her, his book-learned medicine used to practice on his unwitting sister. Her father, he held her, even as she wailed - pain relief foregone, whether due to inexperience or no time. Beloved was the first word to cross the Rovare’s mind. An altercation like any other, some hours later as she held onto the crook of her brother’s arm, using him as a crutch. That strange woman was there again, but this time, she stood by Lucrezia’s father. He argued for her. For his beloved. Just who was this woman? That word echoed, a softened whisper between her brother and herself, “Beloved?” “Did he say beloved?” And then sometime more later, Adonis now soaked in the blood of patients, learning on the fast-track this Saint’s day - that discussion continued. Who was she? Had their father found himself a new wife? Why would he not tell them? Memories, known to only four in life, two of them dead, would assail the young Lady. A first memory, the one she held when youngest. The girl that stood before her was all of sixteen, and looked so much like her father. Blonde hair, blue eyes, even his nose. Lucrezia stood beside her mother, the tot swaying in the cliff breeze, attached at her mother’s legs. It was the news, though, of Rosalind that set her off. All it took was a push, little hands pressing out against the elder girl's legs, until she stumbled back and fell over the cliff. “I am my Papa’s one and only daughter,” The lie burned on her tongue, each time it was uttered, though it grew easier - smoother with time. Her gaze tracked to the young boy who followed shortly after his mother, that strange woman, and could not help but to wonder. Brothers was the first word to cross the Rovare’s mind. The Imperial Edict had been delivered, and it was clear her brothers would be sent to war. Adonis, the scholarly boy of which his beret falls into his eyes. Elias, who only just returned to them, seeking glory. Lucien, mischievous and often finding play. Her current crutch, a Page of the Bluecloaks and her friend, Aviel read the Edict over her shoulder. His eyes had widened, terrified, words a stutter for he was called to war against a continent. Lucrezia Rovares legs crumpled beneath her, holding onto that Edict like a life-line, a cry on the girl's lips. “Oh, my brothers..”

MC Name: tadabug2000 Discord: tadabug2000 Image: Description of Image: Unicorn painting Dimensions: 1 wide, 2 high [2 maps]

The Lady Lucrezia would not see the missive till later, as it had been published while she and those she knew fought for their life amongst brigands. A scowl set upon her features, as she sat within her room with a rapidly bruising throat, and peered upon the missive. If she could scream, surely it would echo the very keep! How could one gossip about her!, so thought the hyprocrite.

MC Name: tadabug2000 Discord: tadabug2000 Image: Description of Image: Watercolor painting Dimensions: 1 high, 1 wide [so 1 map]

MC Name: tadabug2000 Discord: tadabug2000 Image: Description of Image: Watercolor painting Dimensions: 1 high, 1 wide [so 1 map]

Something stalked the night, leaving tracks of which can only alude to something large and four-legged. Should any dare risk a glance outside, brief glimpses would be bad, primarily of multiple jagged rows of teeth glinting in the darkness. It was not the only one, thrashing combat taking out nearby pillars, each more ravenous then the last.

A CREATURE IN THE NIGHT Issued by the COUNTY OF STIRLAND On the 7th of Sun’s Smile of the year of 2033. [!] A depiction of the Stirland farms. INTRODUCTION WITH the continued growth of the recently finished construction of the Stirland village, the crops planted had begun to flourish. The boons of such did not last long, for soon reports came to the Order of the Oak of the destruction of crops and nearby trees. Tracks of something, or multiple somethings large, The nearby farm homes have broken pillars and wagons, damage yet to be repaired until this predator could be found. Clustered Fields Destruction THE Stirland fields have seen destruction, the crops having been destroyed by some form of creature. Said to only come out in the night, the description ranges wildly, the Smallfolks claims of metal beasts morphing to exclamations of rabid wolves. What exactly is plaguing the fields is unknown, but soon to be rooted out. The Night Harvest Down With the Predator THOSE of the Order of the Oak of the County of Stirland, alongside allies are welcome to take part in the destruction of these unknown creatures in the coming Saints days. Until then, it is forewarned to be careful amongst the fields and to have someone to watch your back at all times. The Right Honorable, Holy Ser Peter Rovare, Count of Stirland, Lord of the Stars, Knight of the Holy Grail, Head of House Rovare, Protector of the Salvian People and the Hamlet of Oakhaven Her Ladyship, Lucrezia Isavelle Rovare, Lady of Oakhaven

Hmm.. what to ask when I just ask you stuff whenever I want anyways, hmm, hmmm! 🤔 Have you ever gotten a perm?

A VILLAGE CELEBRATION Issued by the COUNTY OF STIRLAND On the 5th of the Amber’s Cold of the year of 2032 [!] A depiction of the village dance. FOREWORD IT is with the completion of the village of Stirland that an invitation is extended towards the Empire and its allies to take a day to visit, dance and celebrate. The crops have come to flourish, the tavern filled with laughter and homes filled with those seeking out their paths. It is by GOD’s grace of which we can have such celebrations, allowing for a time of joy and revelry. The Village Dance The Rheinländer The start of the festival is seen with a dance, a contest of balance and agility, as those compete to be the last one standing in the Waldenic dance of the Rheinländer. Traditionally a folk dance formed in a circle, it consists of quick hops and turns. Dress to Impress Who Will You Impress? As the dance comes to an end, and the winner is announced, those wishing to showcase their garments are called forth. Given a chance to showcase themselves for the crowd, a vote is taken afterward to name the best dressed there! The Oakenwald Steakhouse Drink and do Not Stop For the final portion of the evening, join those gathered at the Oakenwald Steakhouse for a drinking contest. Take round after round from our resident tavernkeep, until you drop or soar to the top. [Saturday the 14th, 6pm EST - Empire of Man, Stirland 2647, 2, -61] The Right Honorable, Holy Ser Peter Rovare, Count of Stirland, Lord of the Salvians, Knight of the Holy Grail, Duke of Antium, Head of House Rovare, Lord Protector of the Salvian People and the Hamlet of Oakhaven Her Ladyship, Lucrezia Isavella Rovare, Lady of Oakhaven

The leader Troll, a beast sixteen feet in height, turned stone - stood guard within the Oakenwald Steakhouse. It loomed over all in its vicinity, maw twisted forever into a scream of rage. Some tavern patrons even say they can feel its gaze upon them, moving, though whether true or not is unknown. What a terrifying sight, and thought, for any who would dare go against the Vineyard Trolls.

It's amazing reading this, immediately started sharing it with my friends!

GRAPE DESTRUCTION Issued by the COUNTY OF STIRLAND On the 10th of Snow's Maiden of the year of 2031. [!] A depiction of the Stirland vineyard and its tenants. FOREWORD The Lady Rovare’s breaths puffed out in front of her, pulse frantic as she raced up the steps to her family’s keep. The veil of her hennin flew behind her, and this certainly had to be the fastest she had ever run. Palms fell over her rapidly beating heart upon entry through the gates, searching for her father and it was there she saw him. And so she relayed the horrid sight she came upon within their beloved vineyards. When Giants Roam A TORRID TAKEOVER Creatures of immense stature roamed the Counties vineyards, speaking with spittle flying in guttural common. They dredge along, having ransacked the fruits of the tenants labor and broken through wooden doors. Colossal, they have begun to grow bored, thundering steps sounding as they explore the portion of land of which they trespassed. They growl and shout, and fight even one another, constantly in a fight to be on top. Their stench emanates downwind, these creatures, Trolls needing to be taken down. THE BLUECLOAKS TAKE THE VINEYARD BACK A call to the Bluecloaks of Stirland and allies alike is put forth, to put down these wayward giants and take back the vineyard of our beloved lands. These creatures are a danger if allowed to persist and must be eradicated swiftly before they expand further into our home. The Right Honorable, Holy Ser Peter Rovare, Count of Stirland, Lord of the Salvians, Knight of the Holy Grail, Duke of Antium, Head of House Rovare, Lord Protector of the Salvian People and the Hamlet of Oakhaven Her Ladyship, Lucrezia Rovare, Lady of Oakhaven

[!] The survey portion of this post is entirely private and only available to those part of the Nomadri, or who has been shown explicitly in roleplay. AS the Nomadri’s final days within the County of Stirland came to a head, we began scouting potential locations for who could Host our caravan next. Originally keeping close towards our current location, myself and Athanasios of Aziza would tour the vassals of what is known as the Empire of Man. Most seemed friendly, speaking with us when we posed our questions, before we’d continue onwards. One such place appeared unfit for the health and safety of our Caravan, the first sight upon arrival being that of a lake filled with waste. We knew not if they watered their crops with such, and grew concerned, leaving food for the denizens there. It was as we went to depart to continue to take in the area that we nearly fell into deeply dug pits. The place seemed a danger all-around until fixed and so we began our full departure down the roads, until we came across a couple in search of their missing Son. We spoke of seeing a young boy in the town we’d just left, and they rode off in search of him. Before we could get much further, we spoke with a man from another town upon the roads. A place called Avistra. Told of hard-working and welcoming people, our interest was piqued until told of their ongoing war with another vassal. Having spoken some further, the Altwegg as we come to know him, promised to invite us to his lands once the conflict came to a conclusion. Beginning to believe we would not find what we were searching for, we began to ride back to Stirland for the day, stopping momentarily in Alba as we saw the couple from before. It was fortunate, for they found their missing son and in turn, it allowed us to meet a man by the name of Nikola Euler. Respectful and friendly, he attempted to aid us in potential places before eventually suggesting his own home within a place called the Kingdom of Numendil. It was there that my sister, Mada of Gameti joined us, and we rode off to a city by the name of Beznov. THE SURVEY OF BEZNOV THE city of Beznov was said to be backed up to a mysteriously haunted and magical forest, and upon exploration it was confirmed, hosting hunting huts, boars and nearby ruins. Within the town itself, it hosted many homes but one of great interest is one that floats within the sky above. A sight never seen before and one I’d thought I was surely hallucinating until confirmed by the others. They boast varying crops and a nearby lake, allowing for proper cooking and meal times. Told of no ongoing conflicts, this foreign city appears peaceful within their lands. After confirming varying forms of health and safety for the caravan, alongside a pillar of which to attach our souls to, we met with the Duke Mateusz Sarkozic. His Grace had only a few questions, before extending the offer to stay within his lands for a time. His outlined rules were as such; that we may choose whichever home we wish as they exercise no levy for them and to exercise common sense. It is with this in mind that we recommend Beznov as our next Host. Catulla of Gameti Athanasios of Aziza

Catulla of Gameti of the Nomadri Caravan had preparations well underway for their final day within the County of Stirland. Many of the meals were based on the region they stayed in for these past two years, and she wondered as to what their next Host would be like. First and foremost, they must make sure to properly thank those who have housed their people!

Lucrezia Rovare was steadily becoming the very epitome of spoiled. More often then not she was spending her father's coin purse on varying purchases and this time was no different, a crooned word leaving the girl. "Papa!" Boundless curls announced her presence first before her head popped fully in, lashes batting and a pout forming, the missive being held just betwixt fingertips. "I must have one! No, two!" @Based1Salmon

"Mada, you must take this learning opportunity-" Catulla of Gameti would call for her younger sister, after having seen the missive and spoken with Athanasios. @minarichankun