ClatterCake

A piece of Mikhail cried out in rage over the end of this war; peace had at last been restored, yet the lion that had been fostered in him cried out like a storm raged across the coast. It desired to see the lands and it's people driven to extinction, for in his heart was a black stain filled with hatred for the Adrian people for all they had done. Yet it was a part of him that he had hated. Yes... it was not who he was, not at his core. Yet he could not shake the feelings that had warped his perception of his fellow Man. On the steps of the Brotherhood's barracks, the Knight finally took the moment to sit, and lowered his warhammer to his side. And for the first time since Veronica had fallen... he wept. He wept not just for her loss, but for the anger that he had held. The only thing he had hated more than these people was that he had willingly allowed himself to fall to such depths that he was willing to see them brought to destruction. Now was the time to mend his heart and to look to the future of Haense... and although he may carry that anger for the rest of his life, he would have the chance to make amends for it. That is why they fought, after all. Not for destruction. Not for revenge. "Rest now... Veronica. Ea will see to it that mea daughter shines brightly, in vyr name..." This was their peace.

The Valkonen Lord took a deep breath, his eyes settling on his warhammer in silent contemplation, and slowly stood from his seat. With a furrowed brow, he set out the door in the armor of the Crow Knights, his blonde hair whipping back from the sudden rush of cold that had entered the manor, and made his way to the Brotherhood barracks. If this was to succeed, he would need to work closely with his Brother. This wasn't just for the glory of House Valkonen or House Kortrevich, 'nor for the Brotherhood or the Crow Knights. This was about saving the lives of GODAN's people.

The Crow Knight scowled at the call for peace. So many times it had been ignored, left to rot in the cold, dead hands of innocents. They even had the audacity to help see a man assassinated. In his youth, he may have hoped for the end of this violence. When Veronica was still alive, he would have prayed for Mankind's unity. But the Veletzians, Adrians, whatever they wished to call themselves... they were not Men. They were animals. "Let GODAN judge them in the afterlife; our job is to see the heads of these monsters severed for their crimes," he spat.

The Valkonen Knight erupted from his gloomy slumber with a heavy gasp for breath. Often his dreams had caused him ceaseless trouble, yet nowadays they seemed to only grow worse and worse. As the beads of sweat fell from his troubled brow, his thoughts turned to loss of his loved ones. First, Stanislaw had ascended; he was a man that Mikhail rarely understood, often speaking and doing things that contradicted each other, yet his defense of the family and the faith was never in question. It was he who the knight had confided in his darkest dreams to. Then, there was Veronica; a woman whom he had considered a mother, for she had taught him much in his youth, and allowed him the opportunity to claw out of his meager beginnings. Each of them had given him some kind of understanding of the faith. Though he was by no means a holy man, one could not say that he didn't try. And yet, the dream seemed all the more important to him, now that he had seen loss firsthand. Their mortal forms would not last forever... but their spirits would live on within the Seven Skies. His emerald gaze turned down to the pendant that hung from his neck; the aurum Hussariyan swayed gently as he recollected himself. Slowly, he reached up for the cross, curling his fingers around it, and pressed it tightly to his chest. A prayer, simple but humble, was given out in the hopes that GOD would answer them. "Bless us with another man or woman, LORD, who can exercise your divine will. Let them be kind, but firm. Let them be a shepherd to watch over your flock... and deliver us from these dark days." And as he returned to lay at his beloved wife's side, he whispered out... "And let the souls of those lost be vindicated and avenged in His name..."

Mikhail could only sink his head further upon the sight of the letter. For once in his life, he had suffered true loss. And from it, boundless tears sank to the wooden floor below him. GOD had claimed an angel... and a mother was taken from him.

"Va Ve Maan..." The Valkonen Knight muttered under his breath, the banner captured from Brasca Keep still tight between his fingers...

Well deserved! I love you, Cyyan!

GIVEN NAME: Mikhail var Ratibor / Mikhail Colborn NOBILITY/GENTRY (Y/N): Y AGE: 25 DATE OF BIRTH (if known): 481 Ehr Sigmunda, 132 SA. PLACE OF BIRTH (if known): Unsure RACE: Human ETHNICITY (Auvergnian, Illatian, etc.): Haeseni (Raevir) PAST MILITARY/COMBAT EXPERIENCE (if any): Brotherhood of Saint Karl (Footman), Order of the Crow (Crow Knight) PAST LABOUR EXPERIENCE (if any): Farming, Hunting, and Mining. SIGNED NAME: Ser Mikhail Valkonen Username: ClatterCake Discord: ClatterCake

The Master of the Hunt was already involved in this war, as was his duty as a Crow Knight. Still, it was a pleasure to show support to his Queen, and opted to include a singular sash to his armor for the upcoming battles...

The day of worry had slowly turned into a day of pride and relief; the sons and daughters of Horen, united under their faith in GODAN, upholding the justice in which was rightfully enacted on that day. Ser Mikhail Valkonen placed his warhammer off to the side, resting it against the wall, and removed his helmet as he looked up to the sky. There would be more battles to come... but for now, the fighting was over. Mankind would have it's peace. Through blood or the olive branch.

Ser Mikhail Valkonen shot awake from his nightmare, a gasp for air ringing out across his room. They had become more frequent of late, these nightmares, and each one was different from the last. He was certain he had gone insane, yet his mind was still clear, and his his thoughts unobstructed; why did they become such a common occurrence, especially now of all times? The knight placed his hands over his face, then ran them through his hair. He would need to speak with his 'family' once more... a particular one, whom he had confided in his constant nightmares before. Perhaps he would have the answers, though he seldom ever did. Yes... he would need to push through... and keep fighting. And why had he seen those Eyes before...?

Ser Mikhail Valkonen gives the documentation a secondary read, a small smile forming across his face as he ponders more on the future. Though he by no means enjoyed the idea of war, such an alliance would surely come to benefit many across the realm. With the Pontiff at their back and GODAN smiling on them, the Master of the Hunt prepared himself for a brand new event; surely a celebratory hunt between these two nations would be quite the spectacle and a show of comradery!

ACTIVITY TO SOOTHE THE SOUL ISSUED BY THE ON THIS 13TH DAY OF TOV AG YERMEY OF 504 E.S. ✧──────────────⊱🜂⊰──────────────✧ he time has come for another hunt, good people of Haense! As your Master of the Hunt, it is both my duty and my pleasure to give you all the leisure and time-honored tradition of our people. This hunt shall feature heavily the use of spears, rather than those of bows, to allow a more ‘ritualistic’ approach to the hunt. It is this controlled sense of danger that allows us to feel a closer connection to GOD’s creations and as such we must honor that which we call our quarry in His name, as both devout Canonists and proud people of the Highlands. Those of you who wish to attend shall be given positions in the hunting party according to what is needed. Please sign your name in the space provided if you are hoping to attend; remember to read up on Hunting Etiquette, to ensure you are up-to-date on the proper way of hunting during such events! Spears will not be provided to those gathered, so please bring your own! ✧──────────────⊱🜂⊰──────────────✧ Her Royal Majesty, AMAYA OF VENZIA, Queen-Consort of Hanseti and Ruska, Princess-Consort of Bihar, Dules, Lahy, Muldav, Solvesborg, Slesvik and Ulgaard, Duchess-Consort of Carnatia and Vanaheim, Margravine-Consort of Korstadt, Rothswald, and Vasiland, Countess-Consort of Alban, Alimar, Baranya, Graiswald, Karikhov, Karovia, Kaunas, Kavat, Kovachgrad, Kvasz, Markev, Nenzing, Torun, Toruv, Valdev, and Werdenburg, Viscountess-Consort of Varna, Baroness-Consort of Esenstadt, Kraken’s Watch, Kralta, Krepost, Lorentz, Rytsburg, Thurant, Venzia and Astfield, Lady of the Westfolk, et cetera Ser, MIKHAIL VALKONEN, Knight to the Order of the Crow, Master of the Hunt

The knight smiled wide at the sight of this beloved recipe! "She made this for me when ea was so young! Ea hope auwn day, ea can hand this off to mea own little auwns... 've Koenas's Cocoa.'" Though he was still quite young for a human, he already felt a sweet sense of nostalgia for his youth, and moved quickly to whip up a batch for himself. Sweet and adored, just like the Queen! It must be cherished at every opportunity!

The thunderous crash of his warhammer rang out against the training dummy in the Novkursain courtyard; the still-fresh knight had to keep his skills sharp, for there was no telling when the foul Darkspawn would attack again, or for the many hordes of foreign soldiers would come to lay siege to all that he had loved. Pausing for a moment, he rested his hand atop the pommel of his weapon, leaning against it as the head came crashing to the ground, and gazed up at the sky. So much of his life was spent wondering... seeking... scouring for any sign that he was greater than what he was born as. But life had taught him that destiny is not handed to someone upon their birth, but earned by the one who reaches out for it, and yanks it from the fire, barehanded. His eyes would be set upon a new goal now, something to keep himself going. He would continue his service to his homeland, within the Royal Duma, the Esrova Prikaz Court, the Brotherhood of Saint Karl, and the Crow Knights. He would do whatever was necessary for his next step... to seek peerage amongst the fine people of Haense, for like all men, their labors may not be fully realized until well after their death. He wanted to continue his service to his beloved kin; what better way to keep his service continued then with a line of his own? But first, he must be married. And he intended to enjoy the time with Rosalind. With that, the sound of ferrum clashing against wood, hay, and metal rang out once more, the Haeseni knight doubling his efforts with renewed energy...