pkdon

Fleiver Horen sharpens his blade, preparing to defend Kolaz'Lak and his compatriots from the enraged dwed!

Fleiver Horen smiles the suns smile

To neither mince words nor waste time, so it is plainly declared: That, the writer, being Roland de Roubres, having come into possession of the lands encompassing the Duchy of Eastcliffe, shall be regent of these lands and the aforementioned title, until such a time as a rightful ruler be restored to them, That, by order of the Regent, the Duchy of Eastcliffe reaffirms its loyalty to its rightful King and Queen, Georg I and Johanna I, That the Hounds of Don be granted residency in and usage of these lands, as a headquarters and base of operations, for the duration of their contract with Their Royal Majesties, and until such a time as they are able to relocate elsewhere, That the prior clause be not construed as a permanent granting of land, nor an abandonment of the duchy by the Regent, either legally or physically. ((i’m not ditching the region ill be around admins don’t take PRO pls)) It is so ordered, Roland de Roubres, Regent of Eastcliffe.

“Wow” - Swifty Samay

“Can you guys hold on the conflict I am doing exams right now” Swifty Samay uttered in a bout of pure anger, then resuming his studies

A PROGENY'S LAMENT From where the Napoliza, nay, de Alence stood, it was all so peaceful. The sepia-washed trees that encircled him swayed gently to the melodious birdsong, a few leaves straying from their branches and taking refuge at the base of the tree. It was there that the man lowered himself and pondered his late Grandmother’s passing. As he sat there, the book of his life emerged from his conscience. His mind wandered through the chapters of his life - the war, his reunion with his family, Vitenna. All transient, all suppressed, they dispersed from his head. Yet through each of them, did the Princess-Dowagers compassion shine through. It was in fact her empathy that rescued the man from the clutches of Imperials and captivity, and from what would have been his inevitable demise to the aforementioned. “You were the only one who cared, Nonna. Who truly cared. And for that, I am forever grateful. I only wish I could have been there in your final moments; I hope that you can forgive me.” Was all that escaped his parted lips, the Lorraine that rested upon his neck was swiftly grasped by his frail digits, its robust construction holding it in place - and holding the man together. His emerald gaze set out to the boundless expanse aloft, ordained with stars. Halcyon. Peaceful. That is how Solomon hoped his Grandmother passing was. With a bottle of wine and a bouquet of roses in tow, he set off towards the city of Providence. It was the least he could do. The Mother of Helena he thought with a soft laugh, a faint smile unfurling itself unto his visage. A fitting title.