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[!] Numerous copies of this missive were spread about Karosgrad – from the inside of the Prikaz, all the way to the docks outside the gates. Though they all had the very same drawing on the front, each came with something unique – a sticker out of place, a particular stamped shape missing, or perhaps a lack of stickers at all. Most likely because the young artist could not accommodate for every page. However, what did stay continuous on each missive was the author’s incorrect grammar, and often a lack of punctuation. Signed on said drawing was the youth’s name. [The Flight of a Noomie, Elizaveta Ulyana Barbanov-Bihar; c. 415 E.S.] (Artist, @Monaaa) ─────── °✾° ─────── HARK! If your reading this then your in for something. Something really big because this is more than me and you. You know who I am, I know who I am, so we should not waste time on introducing and get to the most important part of all. When my good friend Sorina was born my theory is that fairies of the highest ranking slipped in from her window and while she was sleeping, as a baby, they laid dust over her forehead and hair. This is what caused her hair to be so golden. When I was born (And I know this because I saw in a vision, which was confirmed to be true by a paper I saw) a very tall Tankledor [Tankledors are tall, skinny black stags with the body of a skinny man] slithered into my crib and took my first eye away. Since both these things have happened, Sorina has been given the power to speak to fairies and I have since gotten my eyes back and also that Tankledor (Who is named Viktor var Volodomster now) has switched from the Man of Shadow’s side and onto my side. For these reasons, me and Sorina see it fit that we be in charge of taking care of all fae-kind and uncanny-creature life in not only all of Karosgrad, but the whole realm. It is important that they are protected by anyone who would try to hurt them. Me and Sorina are the perfect choices for this task, because Sorina keeps a compindiyum compendium on all fae-life she has encountered ever and I know by heart who is who in the different realms of uncanny-creature society. Not only this, but she and me are two sides of light and dark (she is the light and I am the dark) and that keeps balance in the realm. For this reason, we both have started the Nikirala Fae Mission. ─────── °✾° ─────── The Details: The first step to establishing order for those we have sworn to protect, we need safe places to build our sanctuaries – places where the fairies and uncanny-creatures can live in harmony and peace. These places must be one that is full of plants moss and bugs, all things that are required for fairies and their noomie sect to survive. If you are reading this, and you know a good place, tell me and Sorina so we can make sure. It also must be a place that is hidden, and not open. Being in an open place will cause fairies and noomies to run away and get lost in the snow, where they will die a horrible death and theyre race will be extinct. Once we have our place, we will give ourselves jobs and titles, so that we can properly watch over fairy and creature kind in a good way. These titles will go as follows: SORINA MONDBLOOM-LUCYFARU LORELEI MONDBLUME-LUCEAFĂRU OF RICHTYBURG(?) will be crowned Her Magical Majesty, Valtakoenas of the Entire Faedom and the Holy Grand Magical Lady of Karosgrad III. @Mady Her duties (haha) are very simple and makes sense. Sorina has a mamej, Lady Moli, who is very magical and therefore she gets that from her. Then she has a knightly papej. All these qualities makes her a good leader to rule and oversee the entire Empire. Karosgrad III is the capital of the Faedom realm and it will be put by Woldzmeer, a very nice home. ELIZAVETA ULYANA BARBANOV-BIHAR OF ALBAN (ME) will be coronated and bestowed the position of Her Serene High-upness, Grand Speaker and Hauchprinzenas of the Principality of Polder Passes. @Monaaa Even though I am not good at speaking I think I do a good job of speaking for the uncanny-creatures of Polder Passes which is the Principality I have been ruling since I was small, which is right now in my old playroom but will soon be moved somewhere bigger. I will also work very closely with the Valtakoenas and act her wishes out on both fae-kind and uncanny-creature life. BARLEY “THE HANDSOME, SO THEY SAY'' WICK will be sworn in and bestowed the position of His Gracefulness, High Lord Paladine, Paramounting Knight of the Fae Order and Herzen of Vermia. @Scourge My aedypapej has the job of Lord Palatine actually and he is good at it. So to make sure that Barley does not have to measure up to him the name Paladine is to set them a part. With that job, he is supposed to advise the Valtakoenas on what she should do with her rulings and speak with the fae-kind one on one. His second job is the Paramounting Knight, and he will raise the forces of the feared Fae Order which is a mix of all the scariest creatures in the Faedom ready to fight to defend the Valtakoengzem’s weakest. As Duke of the Duchy of Vermia, he also oversees all rodents and snakes, rodents that are not rats. Vermia is where the gardens outside are, and its manor is in the crypt of the kings, who live there as residence. MAGDA CATALINA “THE ORACLE (NOT OLD)” WIESZCZ will be named Her High-upness, Prinzenas of the Rats, Komitas of Ratatoostadt, Magical Treasures-Keeper, and The High-Magical Soothsayer of the Faedom. @Melpomenne Magda really loves rats and even though everyone else might not, they are still vermin that deserve to be protected and cared for. The rats are important to the nature system of fae-kind society. Therefore, to take care of them, Magda has been named the Prinzenas of them all, and rules the County of Ratatoostadt alongside Calanthe Wick, which is right in the deep crypts. Magda has also taken on the jobs of Magical Treasure-Keeper, which keeps the items of the fae-world safe from ever being stolen. Because she is such a hard worker, she also decided being the High-Magical Soothsayer was a job she could do. We need a Soothsayer because without knowing about the visions she sees, we will not be able to take the right actions. ISABEL “THE SMART” BARUCH has earned with her smartness the position of Her Gracefulness, Holy Envoy, Pristine Peacemaker, and Komitas of Val-Whale. @sarahbarah I gave an interview to Isabel because I know how much she wants to be an ambassador. So to prepare her for her job when she gets older, she will be the Holy Envoy and Pristine Peacemaker. This job is to make sure arguments and problems between fae-kind, uncanny-creatures, or any vermin are resolved and relations in the Valtakoengzem are not broken up. Since she also is going to be Duchess when she grows up and gets old she has taken the chance to be responsible and have a County inside Valwick called the County of Val-Whale. This will be the home to a kind of uncanny-creature that I think really suits her – the Wolloby Whales (They are whales with bird wings and human legs, which helps them to swim in water and ice.). SHROUT BOOKER CARD, if he wants to, is allowed the position of His Funnyship, Super Appointed Funny Man. @Xx_BloodStalk_xX Shrout is always making me and everyone he meets laugh. But after what he did to Sorina and because he is often not around he cannot be entrusted with land to take care of any type of fae-kind, uncanny-creature, or vermin. Also he once attempted to eat a Noomie, the Mushroom Fae-people. Therefore, the only job Shrout will be trusted with is the job of Funny Man. He has to provide entertainment for all of the Faedom without trying to eat its inhabitants, and he must cheer up the Valtakoenas whose feelings he has hurt deeply. Until the sanctuary’s empire is completed, and you are able to step into its lands, you can call us all by our normal names. But when you are in these places, you can only call everyone listed and going to be listed how it says here. By then everyone will be doing theyre job and ruling theyre lands. We still have a few jobs left that we still need to get sorted before the sanctuary is formed. This is to make sure it runs well. If I think of more I will add them later. ʚīɞ It is vital that we have the HIGHEST PONTIFF. The inhabitants of the sanctuary may want to marry or most importantly go to the Seven Skies. Therefore, the bearer of this title must be the one to ensure the sanctuarys holiness. They must be well read on the scrolls and must be willing to study up on the beliefs and ways of the fae-life, uncanny-creatures, and vermin. So far, I have not found anyone to fit this task, so if you are reading this and you think you are ready please talk to me or Sorina. ʚīɞ We also need a GRAND MAGIC MARSHALL because if we don’t there is a problem of who will make arrests and who will make sure the inhabitants follow the few little laws we give. The bearer of this job must do exactly that and work with the Paramounting Knight in doing so. Personally I have found two people that fit the description and they are both named Matyas. One is my brother ( @Gusano) and one is Matyas Baruch. So, to figure out who will get the job first I will host a sparring match between both of them and whoever wins gets the job. ʚīɞ It is also important that we have HOSPITAL-PEOPLE and WIZARDS because in case any of the inhabitants get sick or hurt, they need someone to make them better. Anyone who takes these jobs must know how the bodies of all fae-kind, uncanny-creatures, and vermin so that they can properly cure them. Recently, we had an accident with one of the rats, Sergi-boy the First, and had he perished it would have spelled great problems for the Faedom. ─────── °✾° ─────── By the time you have finished reading this paper every Faery Senator on the Enchanted Council will have gotten to work on finishing our goal. If YOU want to help please help by finding us fairies, noomies, uncanny-creatures, or any vermin you can find, and also please help us find good places where we can set up where they live. Have a very dobry day. SIGNED, Her Magical Majesty, SORINA LORELEI MONDBLUME-LUCEAFĂRU, Valtakoenas of The Realm of Faedom, The Golden Queen, The Sunshine Princess, The Green-Eyed Beauty, The Immensely Impactful, Savior of Fairies, Guardian of the Uncanny @Mady Her Serene High-upness, ELIZAVETA ULYANA BARBANOV-BIHAR, Hauchprinzenas of the Principality of Polder Passes, Grand Speaker, Archiver of the History of Faedom, Ex-Cyclops of Alban, The Not So Ugly or Pretty, Average Beauty, Protectorate of the Uncanny @Monaaa Her High-upness, MAGDA CATALINA WIESZCZ, Prinzenas of the Rats, Countess of Ratatoostadt, The Magic Treasure-Keeper, The High Magical Soothsayer of the Faedom, The (young) Oracle @Melpomenne His Gracefulness, BARLEY WICK, Duke of Vermia, High Lord Paladine, Paramounting Knight of the Fae Order @Scourge

HANSETI-RUSKAN WORKS: ART, LITERATURE, AND MUSIC TABLE OF CONTENTS Songs I. The Haeseni Soldier II. Deryzcz III. Home Across the Mountains IV. The Road to War V. Ode to The Fallen Artwork I. The Siege of Southbridge Poems I. Beneath the Willow Tree II. Gone III. The Perfect Flower IV. Desiring V. Palace of Haverlock SONGS I. The Haeseni Soldier (link) A farmer’s boy with little worth, goes to the army. He joins the soldiers on a march, as his mother prays at home. A farmer’s boy, a soldier boy, wields his long sword bravely. He trains and trains until he faints, and his brothers treat him gently. A farmer’s boy, a soldier boy, his head held high and mighty. He fights for those he loves at home, although it pains him greatly. A farmer’s boy, a soldier boy, is now an admired sergeant. He trains his fellow soldiers, and prays they come back home A farmer’s boy, a soldier boy fights the gruesome wars, And although his mother prays at home, her soldier boy is gone A farmer’s boy, a soldier boy, drifts into the skies. His life was worth so very much, and his brothers cries his name A farmer’s boy, a soldier boy, looks down upon the army. He hopes they keep on fighting, as their Koeng needs them greatly By Her Ladyship, Erika Renate Barclay II. Deryzcz (link) By His Highness, Gustaf Sigismund Morovar III. Home Across the Mountains (link) By Firr Feodor May IV. The Road to War (link) By Firr Feodor May V. Ode to the Fallen (link) By Firr Feodor May ARTWORK I. The Siege of Southbridge (link) By Her Ladyship, Sofiya Antonia vas Ruthern POEMS I. Beneath the Willow Tree (link) Come hither, my darling And join me upon the hill Battle rages across the ground Clashes of might and will Smoke and flame billows Up towards GODAN’s skies Watch as steel meets flashing steel Hear the orphan’s cries Come hither, my darling As we tread this bloodsoaked ground Find your heart and listen To the hallowed sound Deep in the wood Where meadow meets glade There, you shall find it Sitting beneath a willow’s shade Come hither, my darling What is it you hear? The sound of memories long faded Words once held dear Echoes of those long past Sit deep in your heart Gone but not forgotten Never truly apart Come hither, my darling And sit beneath the willow tree Is it not peaceful? Here, you are entirely free GODAN, save the Brotherhood Protect them from melancholy So they may dance forever Beneath the willow tree By Her Royal Highness, Klara Elizaveta, Duchess of Baranya II. Gone (link) It dipped into the depths, this last light of mine. Entrenched in this darkness, I waste away in this Gloom ridden tower. The skies floods with dark, Warm colors.. I shout, but I am consumed by The splashing of the waves upon rocks On the cliffside. Nothing remains for all shall Fall into ruin. Just as the sun disappears behind The sea, so too shall you disappear under the earth. By His Lordship, Borris Iver Kortrevich III. The Perfect Flower (link) You are a dream, a myth, a ghost Running through meadows in hopes Of finding the most perfect flower. A trophy to hold up, the greatest boast A shadow to be sung of only in odes The broken stem of a perfect flower By His Lordship, Borris Iver Kortrevich IV. Desiring (link) — Love is a poor actor Always forgetting his lines, Tripping over himself, But anyone who has ever loved Cannot say that He does not plunge Headfirst into his role — The yearning of the heart Is the most deepest of desires. Anyone can be The object of my yearning. Each one is always special, But desiring in itself Is the most desirable thing of all. — Have you ever walked out Amongst the fenland And seen the pale pink Fingers of the sunset Gently reach across the sky, So you can almost feel Them stroke your cheek And have you gone down To the dark, glass surface, And felt the waters Lap gently at the edges of Your face and smiled, Feeling drops trickle down And collect around your lips And sat down on the ridgeline Sighing softly to the horizon As the swans fly across, Smelt snowdrops and jasmine, then Twisted them into a little ring Of delicate and pretty petals, And drank all this in with your gaze — I draw my finger across his face Gently tracing every contour Along his cheek and chin, I pull his jaw close to me; He is a sculpture. His Black, curly hair, velvet lashes, Green eyes. Is this not bliss? But nothing lasts and This too cannot. Though My hate simmers for her, The heart yet cannot lie, and Time polishes all desires and Now I dream such golden dreams Of him. — Enough wine and There is little distinction Between a common harlot And a noble lady Wine tears off all veils And the blemish Becomes the beauty-spot And the latter the former And the former the latter — By Firress Ceciliya Smirnova V. Palace of Haverlock (link) You pull me into this wonderful place in which I do not recognize. Flawlessly, scrubbed, white walls And dustless dark oak floors. I could have sworn that I Saw little specks of twinkling around me as I moved past. What started as a maze, quickly became a game. We duck in and out of rooms, trying to open every Locked door. We run down hallways and spiraling stairs On which, often only leads us back to where we began. It is an Ironic thing, a place large enough to Awe at, yet close enough to barely stand Shoulder to shoulder within the hallways. It is a beautiful, confusing, complex work of art. By His Lordship, Borris Iver Kortrevich Should you wish to have your works published in Volume II, please contact HRH, Klara Elizaveta by bird. (pudding#7426) SIGNED, Her Royal Highness, Klara Elizaveta, Duchess of Baranya

BENEATH THE WILLOW TREE For the brave souls lost to us. Come hither, my darling And join me upon the hill Battle rages across the ground Clashes of might and will Smoke and flame billows Up towards GODAN’s skies Watch as steel meets flashing steel Hear the orphan’s cries Come hither, my darling As we tread this bloodsoaked ground Find your heart and listen To the hallowed sound Deep in the wood Where meadow meets glade There, you shall find it Sitting beneath a willow’s shade Come hither, my darling What is it you hear? The sound of memories long faded Words once held dear Echoes of those long past Sit deep in your heart Gone but not forgotten Never truly apart Come hither, my darling And sit beneath the willow tree Is it not peaceful? Here, you are entirely free GODAN, save the Brotherhood Protect them from melancholy So they may dance forever Beneath the willow tree SIGNED, Her Royal Highness, Klara Elizaveta, Duchess of Baranya

The Haeseni Soldier I wanted to write a song about the army and how much someone can find their worth in there, especially for those that often do not hail from much. Although I wanted to also capture how even the greatest of people and those not deserving to die in war, can often be the ones that do. But that does not mean we can ever stop fighting, they would want us to go on. They would want us to keep fighting, even when the battle is tough. So never give up! KRUSAE ZWY KONGZEM! A farmer’s boy with little worth, goes to the army. He joins the soldiers on a march, as his mother prays at home. A farmer’s boy, a soldier boy, wields his long sword bravely. He trains and trains until he faints, and his brothers treat him gently. A farmer’s boy, a soldier boy, his head held high and mighty. He fights for those he loves at home, although it pains him greatly. A farmer’s boy, a soldier boy, is now an admired sergeant. He trains his fellow soldiers, and prays they come back home A farmer’s boy, a soldier boy fights the gruesome wars, And although his mother prays at home, her soldier boy is gone A farmer’s boy, a soldier boy, drifts into the skies. His life was worth so very much, and his brothers cries his name A farmer’s boy, a soldier boy, looks down upon the army. He hopes they keep on fighting, as their Koeng needs them greatly Signed, Lady Erika Renate Barclay

THE BLOSSOMING OF A MAGNOLIA The Hauchmetvas of Lady Adele Emma of Otistadt PENNDED 3RD OF MSITZA AND DARGUND, 412 E.S [An illustration of both Adele Emma Ludovar and Amicia Valerie Ludovar] IT IS WITH GREAT JOY, That House Ludovar announces the betrothal of Lady Amicia Ludovar to His Serene Highness, Frederick de Joannes; Prince of South Sedan. THEREFORE, Baron Johann is pleased to announce the coming Hauchmetvas of his second daughter, Lady Adele Ludovar. THE EVENT WILL SERVE THREEFOLD. Firstly, as a celebration in light of both of the Ludovar twins’ ascensions into adulthood. It will also act as Lady Adele’s traditional Haeseni Hauchmetvas for her to accept prospective suitors to secure familial alliances and in preparation for the forthcoming Lifstala season. And thirdly, as a celebration of Lady Amicia’s betrothal. I. THE BESTOWING OF THE GARLAND The event will begin with Baron Johann giving a speech about both of his daughters. Following the speech, as is traditional for a Haeseni Hauchmetvas, a wreath ceremony will be held in honour of Lady Adele’s openness to courtship. The bestowment of the wreath is being handled by her beloved twin sister, Amicia, who has decided to gift her a garland composed of meaningful traditional flowers. Upon the wreath shall be centrally purple magnolias due to their being Lady Adele’s favourite flowers and signifying long life and purity, yellow yarrows encouraging the everlasting love the debutante will share with her potential suitor, and white myrtle flowers to wish Lady Adele good luck in her bright future. II. THE FATHER-DAUGHTER DANCE The first dance of the night will be a waltz between Lady Adele and her father, Baron Johann Ludovar, for them to share a final moment before she begins the process of courtship. Upon the conclusion of the father-daughter dance, the ballroom floor will be opened to any couples present in the room to dance the night away. Lady Adele will then take any dance requests from potential suitors wishing to show their intentions to begin courtship with the young Lady. III. EXPECTED ATTIRE Due to Lady Adele’s fascination and love of literature, the theme for the evening will be Fairy Tales. As usual for a Hauchmetvas, it is asked that honourable guests do not adorn the colour red out of respect for the tradition. However, the Ludovar twins have decided to swap their favourite colours that they usually don for the evening. As red is the traditional colour of a debutante, Lady Amicia will be adopting her sister’s favourite colour: Blue. Therefore, both young Ladies have requested that guests do not don the colour blue exclusively as their outfit. All other colours are completely allowed, providing that blue and red are not the primary colours of a Lady’s gown. Any gifts that friends of the now-grown ladies wish to deliver to them will be entirely welcome and both twins hope to see many of their friends in attendance! FORMAL INVITATIONS ARE SENT TO THE FOLLOWING: His Royal Majesty, Sigismund III, King of Hanseti-Ruska and his royal pedigree His Princely Grace, Johann Barclay, Duke of Reinmar and his noble pedigree His Grace, Rhys var Ruthern, and Her Grace, Marie Ruthern neé Ludovar, Duke and Duchess of Vidaus and their noble pedigree His Grace, Eirik Baruch, Duke of Valwyck and his noble pedigree The Right Honorable, Aldrik Kortrevich, Count of Jerovitz and his noble pedigree The Honorable, Aleksandr Amador, Viscount of Aurveldt and their noble pedigree The Baronial noble pedigree of House Mondblume His Royal Highness, Otto Morovar, Baron of Ghaestenwald and his noble pedigree PERSONAL INVITES ARE SENT TO THE FOLLOWING: His Serene Highness, Frederick Stanimar de Joannes, Prince of Sedan and his royal pedigree SIGNED, His Lordship, Baron Johann Frederick Ludovar, Baron of Otistadt, Lord of Kazstadt Her Ladyship, Adele Emma Ludovar Her Ladyship, Amicia Valerie Ludovar

“This day forward” A resemblance of the gallows in New Providence The clashing of Petra echoed across the miles of the South. Sigmar pulled his blade, slashing it across many Orenians at the bloody Battle of South Bridge. Oren’s navy arrived with pounding cannons. Even against the pressure, the Lord followed his Field Marshal, Ailred var Ruthern. @mkLouis The siege against the land continued. Buildings crumbled, sinks plummeted to the ocean floor, and death was climbing onto every single soldier fighting. Sigmar admired his Field Marshal. He envied his strength, his family, his leadership. Since he was a child, Ser Ailred var Ruthern inspired him to do greater things. Yet, in a moment, in a blink, in a second, Ailred plummeted to the ground in front of him. An arrow shot by an Orenian had killed the only man Sigmar Mondblume aspired to be. The Baron’s body froze, his charge had abruptly halted on the Orenian soil. Ailred’s body piled against the countless amount of soldiers. Sigmar’s mind went dark and his thoughts had cleared. Why? What are we doing? What is this for? Power? Land? Honour? Why are we fighting? Is this what all these stolen lives are for…? “He grows cold.” Sigmar’s tears wiped against his bedroom floor. Glass had stuck to pictures, walls, and pricked against the wooden floor. Ink spat to each side of the chaotic, complex, confusing, tortuous walls of his abode. His body had curled into a shell of protection. Atop of his desk lay an opened letter with black ink fashionably scripted onto the fine parchment. "My brother, Nikolai Kortrevich received a short and cryptic letter from Isabel from Richtenburg while I was in Jerovitz for visiting purposes. When we got there, we found her. Not in the way that you would like. Pale and in her wedding dress, she was slumped on the floor with a single stab in her neck with some sort of peace on her face. I wish I could say the same about me. My sister is dead and everything is worse now. - Theodosya." Guilty thoughts seeped into his wounded mind. Was it his fault? Was his sister blood-lost on his floors because of his actions as a patriarch, as a brother? Was he even a good person? Did he deserve anything? A knife sat next to him, begging him on. A moment of hesitation grew onto his shivering hand but he refused to go on. The silver of the knife arose to his throat. Tears fell from his eye, dropping against the torn bedsheets. He had to, did he not? How could anyone live in a world so cruel and vile where everything is taken from you? The knife dropped against the wooden floor and Sigmar’s throat remained clean, without blood. He couldn’t. He had to go on, for his family… right? “His skin is pale” Scornful eyes from the courtroom circled to one center point, where Sigmar and Ser Erwin Bishop sat on both knees. Ropes knotted against their wrists and chains that rooted onto each pair of legs. Philip III, Emperor of the Orenian Empire, grimaced at the sight of the two Haeseni. “Did the raid go well, gentlemen?” Philip smiled at the Orenian soldiers who gathered behind the squire and knight. His gaze shifted back to Sigmar, then Erwin. “Your names? Be honest, for that may be the only honor you get this day.” Sigmar answered with the truth, “Sigmar Mondblume.” After, Erwin. “Ser Erwin of The Order of the Crow.” The Emperor held a pleasing smile at the mention of ‘Ser’. “My decision is made” Philip said after a second of thought. “Death by hanging. The two haense soldiers will hang. My mind is resolved as such.” Sigmar’s mind went blank. Just similar to the Battle of South Bridge. The surrounding sound became muted. His sight became unaware of those in the court who pleaded, even begged, for a different punishment. All he thought of was his father, Yvo Mondblume. Was this what it was like? Was this how his coma dreams went? Darkness and a cold feeling ooze around your body. Was that how it felt? “MY DECISION IS FINAL!” A light opened Sigmar’s vision. The Emperor looked to the court with an irked expression. “Anyone who opposes can gladly hang with them.” He threatened. “To the gallows!” At that, Sigmar’s restrained body was forced aloft to his feet. The rally marched past the city gates and reached the gallows. Erwin was first. He was shoved to the top and there a noose was tightened around his neck. Words from a churchman described the Knight’s final rights. And after a short speech from the Bishop patriarch, his body dropped and feet dangled. Just after, a hand pushed against Sigmar Mondblume’s back. His feet dragged onto the gallows and there he saw the Orenian crowd. The churchman repeated the same rights whilst the rope was quickly tightened against the Baron’s neck. “Any last words, Lord Sigmar Mondblume?” A tear dropped from Sigmar’s left eye, for his other was bandaged after a vicious fight with the Dobrov Monster. “War iz zuch a terrible zhing. It infectz everyone near it, even mea. Emperor Philip, ea knov vhat it iz like to have command. To have duty and rezpect. Ea never hated Orenianz or vellow Canoniztz like zhou zay ea do. Zhou do niet vizh vor pain and deazh, for nie leader zhould. Zhou vizh zhe bezt for zhou’r Empire.” He heaved a deap and heavy sigh. “War iz zuch a terrible zhing.” His lips closed and the Emperor gave a solemn nod. In a slow moment, the lever pulled. Sigmar’s footing fell but yet didn’t touch the soil. He dangled by a tightened nuse. He choked by the thick rope that held him above the crowd. “. . . M-mamej. . . Isabel. . .” The poor man wheezed, “. . . Ea’m coming home. . .” His eyes shut, choking ended, arms slung to his side, and his feet stopped moving. Sigmar Josef Mondblume dangled beside his comrade, Ser Erwin Bishop with cold, pale, and dead eyes. “Sigmar Mondblume is forever dead” @Lomiei {Corresponding POV from Ser Erwin Bishop} A letter was sent by crow to Theodosya Mondblume. @marslol A letter was sent by crow to Sigismund III @Xarkly

wowsirs's third skin auction! (i can't think of a better name) i closed commissions, and here's what i made instead! folks, i'm back at it again with my monthly drop of overpriced skins. yay! i closed comms for like two weeks and immediately regretted it, because now i have nineteen skins available for YOU lovely people to purchase! i know this is happening right after sarah's auction post, however i'm going to simply ignore that fact, and pretend that you people still have money. since these skins are of various amounts of pixels and detail, the starting bid will be included in the skin's name. enjoy! ((as usual, credits to the lovely shaydelicious <3)) bids must increase by $1 (or 25 mina) and you must be able to pay for the bid when the auction closes (paypal or ingame) (ex. a 225 mina bid is equivalent to a $9 bid. you would need to bid $10 to outbid this) if a bid switches to or starts with irl currency, it cannot switch back to mina. don't edit your bid, just make a new comment if you are out-bid and tag the previous bidder no non-bid comments auction closes: saturday, february 12, 5pm EST bidding format skin: bid: discord: ACCESSORIES golden sparklies - starts at 50 mina / 2 usd the 'romanesque' - starts at 50 mina / 2 usd sheer kokoshnik* - starts at 50 mina / 2 usd cozy capelet - starts at 50 mina / 2 usd ALEX SKINS armenian dream - starts at 175 mina / 7 usd plum tudor - starts at 175 mina / 7 usd victorian greenhouse - starts at 125 mina / 5 usd ruskan elegance - starts at 125 mina / 5 usd lavender honey - starts at 125 mina / 5 usd extra cozy - starts at 125 mina / 5 usd shoulders aplenty - starts at 125 mina / 5 usd flushed florals - starts at 125 mina / 5 usd brighten up, buttercup* - starts at 125 mina / 5 usd scruffy combinations - starts at 100 mina / 4 usd STEVE SKINS (+ ARMOR) use protection - starts at 200 mina / 8 usd fuzzy shoulders - starts at 150 mina / 6 usd not a vampire™ - starts at 125 mina / 5 usd grellow cloak - starts at 125 mina / 5 usd fuzzy shoulders 2, electric boogaloo - starts at 125 mina / 5 usd references are available for every skin, just slide me a dm! (@cap'n#4985) * - these skins have sheer elements which may not display right on the black base. dm me for screenshots without it!

The Principality of South Sedan brings to you… Ireheart supremasexy An Evening of love and romance for all… "Admirers Masquerade” Which will be held on: Night of the Red Heart Moon, 16th of Tobias's Bounty, 1859 [!] The people and the vassals of Urguan would find this invite posted in mailboxes, city boards, and pinned to the doors of citizens. It would be posted so that the people of the Tripartite Accord would all be welcomed to come and enjoy the Masquerade. Each invite, and post, was sealed with the emblem of Her ladyship, Boja ‘BB’ Bojo, Baroness of Huvaardia. The nations of the war have lost a lot of people, from leaders, to citizens. Each side of the war has lost many and in light of said losses, Sedan is hosting a ball to help the youth and many more find love and friends, all while enjoying some sort of freedom and calm during this war. Even though we are offering peace during this Masquerade ball, many on the side of Oren will not be per say welcomed with open arms. All of the people not coming from the Tripartite Accord will be searched, only to ensure that we will help keep the peace while the event goes on. People of all ages are welcomed. The ball will be hosted in Sedan, just outside of the Sedanian Church, there will be foods of many types and drinks for those above drinking age, while offering juices and sweet drinks for those underage. Music, dancing and entertainment will be offered to all who come to enjoy the night of love and friendship. All of said visitors and attendees are expected to don certain colours: white, red, and gold, The colours are believed to be tied to love and freedom in a sense. Along with the colours, each and everyone is asked to wear a mask, to cover only their upper faces. The women are expected to don dresses, which hold wide and flowing skirts, while being modest. As the ball comes to a close, we will name a she and he as the best dressed, giving the title of “The Red Dove” to said lovely lady, and “The Red Raven” to the handsome fella, but only for the said night. Signed, Her ladyship, Boja ‘BB’ Bojo, Baroness of Huvaardia [OOC]

VE BLAUWMS I HANSETI-RUSKA, VOLUME TWO Va Birodeo Herzenav ag Edlervik, This document is a continuation of VE BLAUWMS I HANSETI-RUSKA, VOLUME ONE. Please read the first volume before the following. FLOWERS Ve Daffodil This flower is most commonly found in shades of white, yellow, or a mixture of the two. However, they can be spotted in red, pink or orange. Signifying rebirth, new beginnings, beauty, admiration, truth, and honesty, these flowers are perfect for gifting. One should be wary of pairing them with other flowers that may have other meanings (see first volume), for then the humble daffodil becomes a token of death and vanity. Ve Crocus Symbolizing rebirth, romantic devotion and joy, the crocus comes in a variety of different colors. Often found in shades of lavender, pale pink or white, these flowers only bloom when spring is near. These flowers make perfect gifts, not having any of the pesky double meanings that can easily trick the ignorant and ill prepared. Ve Cyclamen Blooming in white, pink, lavender and red, the cyclamen symbolizes devotion, empathy, and sincerity of the heart. Perfect for a loved one, the cyclamen is one of the easier flowers to grow. It is planted as bulbs, giving them the perfect heartiness to survive in the climate of Hanseti-Ruska. Ve Kaffir Lily Often growing in red, white, orange and yellow, kaffir lilies are signs of purity and commitment. These flowers are perfect to use in cathedrals, basilicas and churches. Using them in religious ceremonies, such as weddings and baptisms, is said to impart good luck on the attendees. Ve Phlox Symbolizing unity of souls, love, sweet dreams and proposal, phlox is the perfect flower to give to your potential spouse. This flower comes in white, purple, blue, red and pink, making it a popular flower to use in weddings. Ve Andromeda Blooming in pink, white and deep red, the andromeda is a harbinger of spring, only blooming when the weather just starts to turn. As such, this flower carries meanings of rebirth and new beginnings, perfect for a gift to someone one wishes to make amends with. Ve Iris This species of iris only blooms in periwinkle, a mixture between blue and purple. Traditionally symbolizing valor, wisdom and faith, this flower is perfect as a gift for any soldier either going to or returning from war. This marks the end of VE BLAUWMS I HANSETI-RUSKA, thank you for reading. SIGNED, Her Royal Highness, Prinzenas Klara Elizaveta, Duchess of Baranya

VE BLAUWMS I HANSETI-RUSKA, VOLUME ONE Va Birodeo Herzenav ag Edlervik, The following document contains the different types of flowers within Hanseti-Ruska that hold importance to the culture of the kingdom. To be used at the people’s discretion, these blooms can be used for bouquets or Hauchmetvas Wreaths that one might wish to bestow a special meaning to. FLOWERS Ve Camellia Traditionally found in hues of white, red or pink, the camellia is one of the flowers that can bloom in Hanseti-Ruska’s harsh climate. Notoriously hard to grow, the camellia can only be found in select regions of the kingdom unless they are grown within greenhouses. Whilst white camellias symbolize adoration for someone well-liked, pink and red camellias display a longing for someone who is missed. Ve Snowdrop The snowdrop is commonly meant to symbolize purity, innocence, sympathy, rebirth and hope, this purely white flower is perfect as a gift for a young woman. The people of Hanseti-Ruska should be aware, be they lay person or nobility, that some snowdrops tend to be larger with a slight green hue. It should be noted that if the slightly green snowdrops are gifted to someone, the intent behind the gift is to subtly call into question all the qualities a snowdrop usually embodies, implying that the receiver has none of those qualities, or even the opposite of them. Ve Lenten Rose The lenten rose, like the snowdrop, is another flower that carries hidden meanings. Blooming in red, purple, yellow, green, blue, lavender and pink, they are often said to symbolize hope. That said, one should never gift a green lenten rose to anyone they hold interest in. The green color of the flower blends into the delicate stems, indicating the gifter has not thought of the receiver in any capacity other than in passing. Ve Holly Bush Holly is often used to portray fertility and long life. Often, those who cannot afford proper medical care bathe their infants in water that has recently been boiled with holly and allowed to cool. It is whispered to protect the children from harm, as a good luck charm. Ve Jasmine The fragrant white flowers of jasmine are often used to make perfumes, though the meaning of the blooms are wonderful all on their own. Often given with the meaning of love attached to them, jasmine also symbolizes beauty, good luck, appreciation and purity. However, one must beware when gifting these flowers. If paired with a snowdrop, especially a green snowdrop, the combination signifies promiscuity on the part of the receiver. It can be counted as a great insult. Ve Witch Hazel It is whispered, perhaps heretically so, that witch hazel has the uncanny power to divine the future or to reveal the truth. Perhaps rightly so, witch hazel holds a horrible reputation. Although useful in some medical instances, it should never be gifted to those you hold in high esteem. It can be used to indicate the gifter believes the receiver is lying, either in general or more specifically. It is seen as uncouth to gift the plant to even one’s enemies. Ve Aconite This stark purple bloom often signifies misanthropy, caution, and death. The plant is incredibly poisonous, causing pain in the stomach, vomiting and nausea if ingested. One should be especially careful when handling it, and it is the height of disgrace to gift aconite to a living person. On the other hand, this flower is one of the best to use in funeral processions. Volume Two of VE BLAUWMS I HANSETI-RUSKA is soon to follow. SIGNED, Her Royal Highness, Prinzenas Klara Elizaveta, Duchess of Baranya

VE HAUCHMETVAS I AIN PRINZENAS [i] A portrait of Prinzenas Klara Elizaveta lies here. Va Birodeo Herzenav ag Edlervik, Her Royal Highness, Prinzenas Klara Elizaveta, Duchess of Baranya is pleased to announce the arrival of her fourteenth name day and Hauchmetvas celebration. Her Highness formally invites all citizens of Hanseti-Ruska and its allies to a gala commemorating her transition from childhood to womanhood. Itinerary for the Evening: BESTOWING OF THE WREATH The Hauchmetvas Ball shall begin with the bestowing of a flower wreath to Her Highness by her mother, Koenas Emma Karenina, of white camellias to wish her flawless beauty in the years to come, white daffodils so that she might love herself through all challenges in life, white roses so that she might usher in new beginnings, and calla lilies to encourage her to live her life with modesty. THE FIRST DANCE After being bestowed the traditional wreath, guests are encouraged to approach Her Highness to bestow gifts on her, before Her Highness and Koeng Sigismund III take the floor to open the ball with a father-daughter dance. Her Highness will then accept dances with those who approach her at her discretion. A BANQUET TO FOLLOW Afterward, a grand feast shall be held, a wide array of food, pastries and alcohols and guests shall be encouraged to stuff themselves to their hearts’ content. His Royal Majesty, Koeng Sigismund III will give a speech, followed by a speech from Her Majesty, Koenas Emma Karenina. ATTIRE & THEME The theme for the evening shall be Newly Bloomed Spring, guests are encouraged to wear pastel colors with flower accessories for ladies, and earth or water tones with gold or silver accessories for gentlemen. Those who wish to enter courtship with Her Highness are encouraged to wear newly bloomed roses. SPECIFIC INVITATIONS WOULD BE SENT TO: His Princely Grace, Johann Barclay, Duke of Reinmar and his noble pedigree His Grace, Eirik Baruch, Duke of Valwyck and his noble pedigree His Grace, Rhys var Ruthern, Duke of Vidaus and his noble pedigree The Right Honorable, Aldrik Kortrevich, Count of Jerovitz and his noble pedigree The Honorable, Aleksandr Amador, Viscount of Aurveldt and his noble pedigree His Lordship, Johann Ludovar, Baron of Otistadt and his noble pedigree His Lordship, Sigmar Mondblume, Baron of Richtenburg and his noble pedigree His Royal Highness, Otto Morovar, Baron of Ghaestenwald and his noble pedigree The Allies of Hanseti-Ruska SIGNED, Her Royal Highness, Prinzenas Klara Elizaveta, Duchess of Baranya [OOC: RESCHEDULED for February 11th in the Nikirala Prikaz ballroom at 5PM EST]

From the penmanship of the Koenas Council… A PARTY OF TEA-PETS & CAKES [!] In a series of fine brush strokes and bright colors, a portrait is attached of the many cats to appear at the party. [!] A flock of silver-tailed doves soar over the city’s rooftops dropping a missive with a golden leaf seal to every person on the street, every mailbox, every doorstep, and every dinner table. It would read as follows: “To all pet lovers alike… A tea party is being held in Karosgrad’s fine palace, all those who are invited to attend should arrive in their tea-ready outfits and bring along their most dignified pets of all kinds! But fret not - for those who seem to be lacking pets of their own, you have the chance to find your most favorable and furry animals. Displayed at the tea party and for all to see will be stalls to buy pets of your own. Ranging from little fish and hermit crabs, to the larger cats and dogs- these pedigree animals are the finest in the entire Kingdom! If you find yourself reluctant to buy one, a petting zoo shall be set up - to allow the opportunity for guests to caress and bond with an assortment of animals, bred in our nearby Karosgrad farms.” The activities for the day… I. Tea is Served! An arranged assortment of Karosgrads finest and most delectable tea will be served out in the royal garden, guests can drink tea and mingle with fellow lovers of animals. II. Pet N’ Pat This part of the event guests will be able to show off their furry friends and even get to meet other lords and lady's most fabulous pets, the Fakhr Oasis will be proudly presenting their finest of exotic animals to mingle with, Camel rides will be a fee of two mina, however the petting pen will be covered by the crown. The Oasis will also be sharing for sale their finest animal’s of the southern region at this eventful gathering. III. Buying A New Best Friend For our guests that have arrived without an animal of their own or are seeking a new companion to bring home. Now you have it! Vanir Variety will be presenting a variety of animals for sale: big and small, fluffy or scaly. IV. The Grand Race Our final event will be a Grand Race, all manner of pets will line up at the starting line and it will be a race to see who meets the end first! First, second, and third place winners will receive a prize. Signed, Her Royal Majesty, Emma Karenina, Queen-Consort of Hanseti-Ruska Her Ladyship, Analiesa Vasila vas Ruthern, Event-Collaborator of Hanseti-Ruska OOC:

[!] The same printed drawing would be posted to every surface around Haense includingbeing stuffed into mail boxes. It is scribbled in many different colours - creating an image and text - the layout looks as if it were drawn by a child (Which it was).

[!] In Almaris, a crudely constructed snowman would sit in the middle of the town squares everywhere, with a letter attached to it. Salutamu! I am Yaşamın! and I am in search of my father! well, I am pretty sure my actual father is dead! but please help me find this man, he is my new papa! I met him when I snuck out of my family's house, in search of my really Pappa who went to go get cigarettes, it's alright, like I said he's probably dead. but I need to find this one, so please help me! I drew a description of him and his name. His name is Lucian, and he has a funny accent that makes me giggle, mr. pappa if you see this, please leave a letter on one of my mr. snowmanses From: Yaşamın [!] a dried splotch stained the paper, as if a child had eaten some snow from her snowmen, and coughed onto the missive by accident. A small Illatian would be seen waddling around Oren, having returned to her snowman, only to see another write a response on her sign, seizing the paper before turning around to shout. "HEY! WHERE'S MY PAPPA?! WHO WROTE THIS?!"

A LETTER TO ALMARIS [i] Hawks carry copies of the same letter to most major settlements and cities in Almaris, and the banging of hammers can be heard as the letter is posted on notice boards for all to read. [i] A sketch of Henrietta Therese lies here as she sits within Nikirala Prikaz’s chapel. Within the walls of the Winter Palace, a mother’s cries can be heard. Klara Elizaveta covers her ears against the sound, her own silent tears slipping down her face. The girl can still feel the eyes on the back of her neck, as if she were still being watched. Every time she closes her eyes, she sees a bundle of sticks and leaves falling from the canopy of the forest. She can still hear her aunt’s desperate wails as the woman cradled the bundle close and fought off anyone trying to knock the Duchess of Alban back to her senses. Klara stifles a sob into her pillow as she realizes the wailing never stopped. She had only received a reprieve from the horrid sound when the search party had finally decided to sedate poor Henrietta, but even that could not quell the illusion induced grief. The little princess could still feel herself being tossed to the ground, could feel how the brush scraped against her hands as she caught herself. With a muffled sob of her own, the girl took a trembling step from the safety of her bed to sit down at her desk. With shaking hands, she pulled out a piece of parchment. 9TH of VZMEY AND HYFF Iv Joveo Mann 406 EHR SIGMUNDA To the beings of Almaris, A girl, barely younger than myself, has been taken, stolen from her family. Lady Elizaveta Ulyana of Alban has been missing for four months, or four Saint’s days. The only traces of my dear cousin have been a lock of her hair and one of her small shoes, found within the Barony of Dobrov. On behalf of my aunt and uncle, Their Royal Highnesses, Prince Marus Aleksandr @mkLouis and Princess Henrietta Therese @PerfectlyPeachy, Duke and Duchess of Alban, I write to the kind hearted people of Almaris today to ask for information. Information on my cousin’s possible whereabouts, or possible sightings. Please help reunite my cousin with our family, please keep your eyes open as you go about your days. Any information or offerings of support are welcome through letters to myself or my mother, Her Majesty, Queen-Consort Emma Karenina @livrose of Hanseti-Ruska. SIGNED, Her Serene Highness, Prinzenas Klara Elizaveta, Duchess of Baranya

Elizaveta Ulyana Barbanov-Bihar [Attached to the notice is a portrait of Elizaveta on her third birthday, 404 ES] (Credit: @Monaaa) The screams of a frantic mother ravaging the streets of Haense in search of her daughter interrupted the lively song of Tuvmas carollers, heartbroken cries of anguish overshadowing that of festive joy. "Elizaveta, Elizaveta!" Cried Princess Henrietta of Haense, hair undone and hanging free from the veil which oft-covered it. She had been searching for hours, diligently pleading with the people of Haense to aid her in finding her youngest child. "Please, god, you must help me find my baby!" She continued to scream. [A sketch of what Elizaveta was wearing on the day of her dissapearance. 405 E.S] (Credit: @Goon ) Kingdoms of Almaris, Lady Elizaveta Ulyana Barbanov-Bihar, youngest child of Prince Marus Aleksandr, and his consort, Princess Henrietta Theresé, has gone missing. We plead with her captors to return her safely to her mother and father, and are willing to pay any amount of ransom they demand, if only they give them the assurance of their daughters continued safety. We wait with bated breath for any news, or notices regarding our daughter and her disappearance. We also ask the citizens of the various kingdoms of Almaris to come forward with any information they may have. Whether it be a simple rumor, a sighting, or an unwavering suspicion someone you know might have abducted our child, we beg you to come forward and inform us of such. We will reward you depending on the legitimacy of the intel. Lady Elizaveta was last seen in the city of Karosgard after spending the evening with her aunt, the Queen Emma of Haense. She did not return home, and thus the search for the young girl began, spanning all throughout the night and into the early hours of the morning. Her prized possession, a lamb made for her by a family friend, was found hastily discarded in the entryway of the Karosgard docks and harbor. We do not believe she simply left on her own accord. Elizaveta is a young girl nearing the age of four, and was last wearing a traditional Ruskan sarafan in the colors red, black, and gold. She was born with a deformity that caused her to develop without her left eye, and thus only has the right. She doesn’t cover it, and so it is one of her defining features. Her hair is often twisted into two twin plaits, and her shoes are thick black leather that slip over her little feet. We stress that if anyone may know what fate has befallen our daughter, to come forward, and they will be rewarded. We must know, even if that information is that whoever has taken her, has killed her. Signed, His Royal Highness, Prince Marus Aleksandr Duke of Alban Her Royal Highness, Princess Henrietta Theresé Duchess-Consort of Alban

A GRAND FEAST The sun rises and the sun sets, the day of undeniable doom for Philip III and his Kingdom draws nearer by the second and by the hour. When the day arrives the sons of Yavok, the kin of Urguan, the people of Haense and the men of the ferry will spill Orenian blood and achieve goals of justice, revenge and the reclaiming of honor done away by those who follow the “Holy” Orenian Emperor. The alliance of Kingdoms and Empires against a common cause has been repeated multiple times in history. But history is truly in the making and our names will be etched in history as we once more fight to bring down the corrupted state of Oren that has plagued our lands, wronged our people and dishonored our gods. With such an occasion, Clan Ireheart invites the various peoples of the alliance, from King to the common folk to feast, to drink and to bond for the fight to come. The Following parties are invited to Feast in the Temple of the Brathmordakin, in Urguan: The various vassals and peoples of Urguan Sigismund III and the Kingdom of Haense The Ferrymen Band Vane Freysson and the Kingdom of Norland OOC: Friday 4 PM EST. 12/31/21

[!] Lo and Canticle, for scattered by the wind 'cross the hills of Almaris fell a missive; and whether it was lodged within crevasses of piled wood or stone, or caught in the vortexes of rubbish that blew within the alleyways of Providence or Karosgrad, or 'gainst the barnacle-ridden planks biding sailors from a watery grave along the strait that split the continent twixt, did it bear this foreboding message: In the jungle, the mighty jungle, The lion sleeps tonight. In the jungle the quiet jungle, The lion sleeps tonight. Near the village, the peaceful village, The lion sleeps tonight. Near the village, the quiet village, The lion sleeps tonight. Hush, my darling, don't fear, my darling, The lion sleeps tonight. I'll hush my darling, don't fear it, darling, The lion sleeps tonight.

VE KAROSGRAD LIED - BY IGOR OTTO MONDBLUME "As you walk through the square of Karosgrad you see a raven-haired boy playing the melody on his lute while being seated at the staircase in front of the palace!" "KRUSAE ZWY KONGZEM!" Is what Igor Otto exclaimed after having played his melody (most likely waking up his Uncle Sigismund III, Aunt Emma Karenina, and his cousins (if they were asleep at the time) :)

The life of a Wild Mondblume The Last Cigar A child stood with her father in front of the gates to New Reza, meeting the men that she would later deem her closest family. That same day would be the day she met her first love, Klaus Makensen, who would pour itching powder down the back of her dress. She would spend her days either with Friedrich Barclay, another boy she had befriended, or Klaus. The days may have been short but the fun they shared was long and valuable. At some point she and Friedrich had made a blood pact, promising that if they ever found something that they would announce the findings together. This later never came to persist throughout the years. Soon the time she had spent with Friedrich faded away as he began preparing for becoming the next patriarch. This fed into the obsession that was Klaus Mackensen, the two becoming inseparable. They would always be seen together, running off to the Wick Woods or the forests that surrounded Oren’s land. What they did inside the woods was never spoken of, at a young age they both would indulge themselves into the art of dissecting wild pigs and chickens. This led to the psychotic traits the both of them would begin to show, leading to almost wild animalistic behavior towards one another. Trading words of “If you leave me, I will hunt you down and kill the one who thought you were theirs.” and vice versa. At one point she had even left a pig’s liver on the balcony of her own uncle Fyodor Erdhart. When the two were not threatening each other with loving words, or hunting purely for the kill, they were in haense planning their next prank victim. The only one the girl only ever cared to prank was her older sister, Loraina Mondblume. Time and time again the sister would be pranked with a nagt tree, ant’s blight in soup, and a plethora of other things. But one day it would backfire on the Girl tremendously, almost getting her kidnapped. She had been with Klaus, using his help to throw a paint bomb and a glitter bomb onto her elder sister as they both broke out into laughter. The two continued laughing as the girl’s other sister arrived, Dhara Mondblume, holding a fishing rod and looking at the two confused. While the girl had caught her sister up on the recent events of things, two people came up to them; one a human male and the other an orc female. The two people had tried kidnapping all three children, the male knocking Klaus and the girl out onto the floor. The next few minutes were a blurry flur, as what seemed to be the entire HRA rallying to apprehend the two adults. A few medics came in and took the girl and Klaus out to the hospital, tending to their heads. The coming days were a blur to the girl, her uncle Astoro Jovanovsk checked up on her several times a day when he was not on duty. But all the girl could do really was sit in her bed, under the stairs and stare at a book blankly. But soon her light came back, Klaus came to visit to make sure she was alright, and took her out to sit under a birch tree. There he came forth with a ring, some letters enscripted onto the metal. “A promise ring, because I promise to be by your side.” The girl smiled at it, and wore it on her at all times. But this didn’t last as the panic of the Infirni war raged on within the lower states of the continent, and soon the evacuation of all the peoples of every nation. But before that, her father had said goodbye to her, giving her his own helmet amongst other things. Amelot The Brave may not have been a present father in her life, but she loved him as much as a daughter would either way. The girl had cried hard and long when she had heard of her father dying, from being pushed into a lava ravine. The next few months spent on a ship, heading to a new world was painful. Her family was split up considerably, her mother and older sister missing the Haense boat as her last sister sat crying into her shoulder. The now woman grew distant emotionally from all she had once interacted with. All ships soon stopped on a small island, letting all onboard stretch their legs for the time being. The woman smiled as she saw Klaus again, running at him and tackling him to the floor. She had gushed over him, complaining about how lonely she had been on the Haense ship without him. When they had landed in Almaris, and the years of construction began and ended, the remaining Mondblumes lived together within a manor. Hildebrand, her cousin, leading the house for the time being. Many of the years were a blur again as she had lost Klaus to whatever he was doing. She had convinced herself at one point he had died, but the next day he showed his face in the palace gardens speaking of sweet nothings before disappearing from her life once more. She had grown angry at him, removing the ring she held so close to her heart and setting it away with the rest of the gifts he had given her over their childhood. But the one gift she wouldn’t put away was a dagger that looked like a sacrificial knife, something that would be a part of some occult or another. The item would always be stashed away in her boot if she was wearing pants, or hidden under her dress if she were to wear one. To silence her anger she would go on long hunts, slicing and killing boars that roamed far behind the walls of Karosgrad. Like she would when she was younger, she took out the animal’s livers and lungs. The woman stabbed at the organs verily until it was a pile of mush and blood. Upon returning back to the walls and warmth of Karosgrad she had met an Amador. He was younger than her, but she saw just a little bit of herself in him. The two started to court, but the Amador wanted to leave Haense and his noble title for Norland, the neighboring northern nation. She had followed him but only for a short period of time before her cousin and two uncles came to speak to her about it. Even though she did have some family in Norland, all of her life was in Haense and that she had to stop loving him. But this did not stop her from seeing him, following him around in cloth and mask, calling out to him over hilltops to taunt him. She often called him a ‘bunny who had left the safe den for that of the wild storm’. Soon she had gotten bored of taunting him and went back to her life in Haense. While inside the tavern and talking to her adoptive mother, Anna, over a cup of tea at the counter, she turned to meet the eyes of someone familiar. It was a Barclay, but one she had only met ever so often. Cedric Barclay, as she came to know, blessing her mind space of pure and happy thoughts. The man was to be taking over his father’s store, forging a small kazoo for her as a present. The woman smiled at that, not having a kazoo on her since her childhood, and playing a short sweet song. Soon enough the two started to fall in love, eventually having a double date with one of her sisters and another Barclay. The woman loved Cedric’s smile, a Sun’s Smile so she called it, which brought light into her dark mind. Years had passed as the two fell more deeply in love, so far in love that she had forgotten all dark thoughts and locked them away for the happiness she had with Cedric. At last the two got married and she moved into Reinmar to live with him. Soon she had birthed twins, who she had named Reinhardt and Klaus. She loved her sons a lot, to the point she took up knitting to make little hats for their tiny heads. A few years later she had another child, Ludvig, who had been sick since his birth. No one knew how or why, but soon enough the child had grown and left on an adventure. Then once again she had another, a girl named Adrianna who was secretly her favorite. The woman always took her daughter’s side, even when she had snuck into a friend’s house and took most of his liquor, making Cedric chase Adrianna and her friend down for it. The years grew slow as her children grew up, the woman either staying within the keep to knit away blankets or going out on hunts for boars. And she had thought the next hunt would be the same as ever, oh how she was wrong. After giving a loving glance at her husband she left the keep, the last remnants of society for the next 19 years. And in the twenty years of her absence, she had fought hair, tooth and nail to not die to the things that lay within the mountains. She survived for so long she thought how she would return back to Haense, and if there was anything she could return to. In the end she found her way back, and had been blessed with her eldest son’s face, Reinhardt. Though he thought of her simply as a specter of the past, not believing that the woman in front of him was his mother. But after much explaining of her own past, and the inner workings of the Reinmar keep he broke down crying in his mother’s arms. The woman, now greying, had met her grandchildren from Reinhardt, being gentle and kind to the children around her. “So you named one Cedric after your father? Speaking of, where is he?” She asked as they all sat around the fire, the air became stiff suddenly. Reinhardt told her that he died, passed away in battle. The woman stood up and backed away, glaring at her child for the first time. She denied the truth, saying it must have been a lie, a ploy where Cedric would be around the corner. Reinhardt tried to calm her down, but she bolted out of the room running up to the roof terraces where she spent her lonely nights. Her son tackled her to that of one of the roofs, holding her down as she kicked and flailed about. The man now carried his mother from the roof into a room, holding her down as he locked her hands behind her back in irons. The woman shot a sarcastic comment at her son, about how he could lock an old woman in irons. The woman soon calmed down and he led her to an empty room, save for furniture, letting her out there. Reinhardt muttered about her sanity and left her to rest, but his child stayed behind and talked with her. The now grandmother talked about the pranks she had done on her own siblings to the child, and promised to teach them how each worked. The young girl nodded and soon left for bed, saying a quick goodnight to her Oma. The woman sighed as she herself went to rest, planning to clean herself in the morning. And the next morning she cleaned herself, and went into the capital’s walls. She reveled in the unchanged looks of all the buildings, how each loomed over her the same way they did years before. As she stepped to the bank to check what money she did have left in her account, stopping as she caught sight of a very familiar girl. She leaned against one of the terracotta pillars as she just smiled happily at her child, soon cooing out to her. The woman who was Adrianna, turned around and ran towards her mother, enveloping her into a tight hug of love and tears. The woman hushed her and wiped away her tears, claiming all will be fine. She then looked at the man standing a few paces off to her right, who smoked a cigar. All she gave him was a proud nod, herself being a big smoker. The next few months were solem, the woman looking over her empty bed every time she walked back into her new room. “If only you were here Cedric, I know you would be so proud of all our children.” As she laid down, she thought of where she would land after she died. Would it be in the seven skies, or somewhere worse? The years passed by quickly, barely registering the time as she had spent most of it on a hillside or looking into the lake near Karosgrad. After a long walk she had come across a gathering of Barclay and friends, walking closer to the huddle to listen in. What she heard was upsetting to say the least, so she called for everyone to come to the keep for dinner. They all moved to Reinmar, and into the feast hall. The woman had left to go begin making a stew for everyone, letting them talk amongst themselves. While she was cooking a cough past her lips, nothing uncommon for the old woman. So she kept cooking until she brought it all to the table, filling everyone’s bowls with pork stew. They talked more about how to proceed with the issues at hand. Another cough racked her lungs, making her stuff her face into her arm. When she pulled back she glared at the red stain on her white shirt. Adrianna, one of her children that were there at the table looked up at her in concern, voicing that concern but the elderly woman just waved her off. She pulled out a cigar, and lit it before taking a deep inhale of it. Her other son, Reinhardt, had spoke up about her smoking habits. The woman shrugged his words off, looking at the child who had come in. The child was upset, that much was clear, though he spoke unclearly. Adrianna had helped the child out, and calmed him down. As she did this another set of coughs came over the elderly woman. Reinhardt and her son-in-law Charles helped her to sit at one of the banquet tables. Adrianna had soon returned to her side, pulling out some herbs and asking her brother to boil them into a tea. The woman still had her cigar in her hand, taking another deep breath of the intoxicating smoke. She blew the cloud into the air and let it settle down back to the floorboards. She was about to quip some sarcastic joke when another fit of coughs attacked her, this one worse than the last and having her doubled over onto the floor. Blood and a few chunks were on the floor, her eyes fogging up with water making her unable to see. A soft voice called from the other end of the room, a child, asking what was wrong. At that moment she spoke one sentence, “Get the child out of here- she does not need to see this.” A few minutes had passed before the woman was able to breathe somewhat easily again, using a napkin to wipe away what blood had stuck to her chin. As Adrianna and Charles seemed to fret over the woman, she got up and followed the sound of her son’s voice. At the top of the stairs she saw Reinhardt with a little girl, who held a very familiar teddy bear. Knocking on the wall she introduced herself to the child, going to ruffle the small girl’s hair. Reinhardt had gone to help his mother, worried over her slowly worsening form. She thanked him, standing on the edge of the fireplace with her almost used up cigar. The woman spoke some comforting words before taking what was left of the cigar and draining it to ash. The world seemed to stop for Aeira Barclay, a wild mondblume who fought hair tooth and nail to get back to where she was now. But all she could feel was a burning in her throat as she fell to the floor, a pile of blood, bile and some tears mixing on the carpet below her. Things happened all too quickly yet all so slowly, her daughter at her side begging her to stay awake and the voice of a little girl asking what was wrong. Through Aeira’s tears and blood, she spoke one thing, “Tell Klaus I always loved him, and that he deserved a better mother.” The blood choked her, her own body turned against her as her life slipped out of eyes. Aeira had died to herself, and seemingly with her last cigar.

Ser Fiske’s Travels or An Unfinished Tale of Pilgrimage [[OOC: About a year ago or so, I chose to take my then main character, Ser Fiske Vanir, on a pilgrimage. Not just your typical 'im on holiday/hiatus, thus absent' pilgrimage, but one I roleplayed planning in advance with the help of VIROS (Whom I wish to once again thank), who was High Pontiff back then. We wrote up places for my character to visit and three relics to retrieve. I would then write a story out of this journey, though I'm afraid I never quite got around to finishing it. And now, with it being a year since I started writing this, my character long since then pk'd, I do not think I intend to finish this story anymore. Perhaps I will one day, but for now I decided I would post it for eager readers in it's unfinished form. With that in mind, I hope you enjoy the part of the tale I did end up writing!]] The Serpent as it sails through frozen waters, the icy mountains of Serrimor in the background. Ser Fiske ‘the Daring’. That’s what our pilgrim Vanir had been knighted as last month on Arcas. Since that night in the throne room of King Josef of Haense, things had gone fast. He had planned his journey long in advance, with the help of the High Pontiff. All he waited for was for himself to be finished with his squireship and to be knighted. After such had happened in the latest court gathering, he’d said farewell to his friends and family in the Haeseni capital, before retreating northward to his castle in Vasiland so he could prepare for the journey. He and his crew loaded their supplies aboard and then boarded his private sailing ship, The Serpent, as they set sail northwards past Valwyck, through the icy waves. As they began passing the frozen shores of Serrimor after a few days of sailing, he turned to what would be his confidant on this journey: his travelling journal. Prologue It has been about a month and a half now since our departure from Arcas, and think we can see the northwestern tip of Aeldin on the horizon now. Initially, the weather conditions were very favourable for us, the wind in our sails as he we sailed north from Haense, past Serrimor and the southeastern shores of Atlas. The large stretch of eastward sailing from there to Aeldin was a different story though, as the wind was no longer in our backs. The journey was slow and took longer than expected or at least hoped. Our supplies have run low, near the point of rations, but we will be able to restock soon upon our arrival in Aeldin. One good thing about the length and low intensity of the trip was that I got a lot of time to think and read. About the places I’m visiting and their Saints, but also about why I’m going on this pilgrimage. I guess there’s multiple reasons for it, that I’m just now really coming to understand. Late last night, we docked in this harbor town called Reden, the first place we spotted here on the coast of Aeldin. A few of my crew stayed on the ship while me and some others went to the local tavern to get our bearings and to get a proper bath. We returned to the ship around midnight, refreshed and having found the market square where we could restock our supplies. Sadly that’s where disaster struck though this morning. We’d bought all the supplies we needed to refill our stock no problem, but when I wanted to buy a map of the waters between Fjordhem and the mainland, I suddenly realized I had been pickpocketed and my pouch with minas was gone. We looked around for a bit to find the culprit, but couldn’t find anybody of suspicion. After that I decided we’d go back to the ship and we’re now on our way to Powys where we’ll probably arrive tomorrow around noon. I know God has His ways to try His servants and challenge them, but this just felt like punishment. Perhaps He wants me to learn a lesson about greed and temperance, or maybe that I shouldn’t be so reliant on money on my pilgrimage. But I don’t know. The White Cliffs of Powys Chapter 1: Ulmsbottom Upon seeing them, I was blinded by them in the morning light of the rising sun. The white cliffs of Powys! They are truly a sight to behold, beautiful and towering chalk cliffs that rise out of the sea like a wall. We docked in Powys like the High Pontiff had suggested me to, and it immediately became apparent why he’d done such. Powys seemed like a much safer harbortown than Reden and with an even bigger market. I suppose it would have been wise to follow the plan laid out for us by the Pontiff, but that’s all in hindsight. We simply stretched our legs for a bit in Powys and asked for how to find the Monastery at Ulmsbottom, as well as delivering a letter His Holiness had given me to a priest at the local cathedral. The man seemed ecstatic to receive a letter from the High Pontiff himself, albeit it wasn’t for him but for a man called Friar Griffith, who wasn’t present at the time. While walking through some fields after I left the cathedral on my way back towards the harbor, a most curious figure blocked my way. He was a robed figure with brown hair and a black, wreathed apparition. The figure asked where I was going, to which I stated I was going wherever the good Lord’s grace led me. Then the robed man said to me, “Wherever you go, or whatever you attempt, Iblees will resist you.” For a moment, I stood in silent surprise to these words, before I remembered the prophetic saying, and said, “The Lord is my helper; I will not fear what man can do unto me.” Then, to my utter confusion, the robed figure disappeared from my sight in the blink of an eye, and soon I resumed my way to the harbor, and to Ulmsbottom. When we came to the rocky island of Ulmsbottom, some guards welcomed us on the dock, and invited me to come with them to meet the overseer of the penal colony that the monastery was part of; warden Bedwyr Hughes. The warden was a middle-aged man with one of the biggest moustaches and some of the thickest eyebrows I have ever seen in my life, giving him a stern and imposing look. After talking some with the man however, it turned out he was a calm, temperate and kind soul, and we quickly hit it off. He showed me to a guest room in his home where I could stay, and then took me to the old Ashford House, now their family chapel, where Pontiff St. Lucien was born and where they kept much imagery and many relics of this holy man. I asked for a moment of privacy, as I knelt down in prayer by the shrine dedicated to the Saint, and stayed there for a while in silence, taking in the scent of the little bit of incense that burned inside the little chapel. I prayed at length for the well-being of my family, both the living family members I left behind at home, but especially the ones that were no longer with me for they died when I was young, especially my parents. After all Saint Lucien was the patron Saint of the family. In prayer I asked St. Lucien, as well as GOD himself, to look kindly upon my relatives in the Seven Skies despite what mistakes they might have made in life, and furthermore I pleaded to be blessed with a good family of my own in the future. The front courtyard and entrance of the Reformative Monastery of HP St. Lucien I Once I was finished, warden Hughes joined me again and he took me to the Reformative Monastery of High Pontiff Saint Lucien. Upon getting there, accompanied by some of my crew and some of his guards, we found the monastery seeming deserted. We figured the monks were all at mass, for we didn´t know the time of day, and so he simply accompanied me to the reliquary to show some of the relics the monks held of their patron Saint. After some time of being there and still not having seen a single monk however, we got curious as to their whereabouts and began looking for any of them. We were just looking around the monastery´s training grounds, where I had hoped to join them for a drill session as is tradition for pilgrims, when we heard the monastery´s bells being rung. The warden, who was very well-acquainted with what certain ways of ringing the bells meant, told me that someone had just passed away. Therefore we headed to the monastery’s infirmary, not in a running hurry, but with slow, solemn steps, as I was instructed was part of the ritual the monks upheld in such a situation. When we came close to the infirmary, we could clearly make out the litany of the Saints being sang in chant by a choir of monks, and upon entering, we saw that the monks had all lined up in an orderly fashion to say their farewell to their deceased brother. A priest of the monastery came to the doorway to meet us and we exchanged a few words. He welcomed me to their monastery and apologized for the circumstances in which we joined them. He told us that a catechumen, not a monk, had suddenly passed away due to illness, which the priest explained to me was most terrible, as the poor soul had died before being able to receive baptism. Feeling sorrow for the poor soul, I in turn asked if I was allowed to also say a few things for the deceased catechumen, and the priest happily obliged. When it was my turn to kneel beside the deceased brother wrapped in stainless white sheets, I did not say a farewell, but instead laid my hands onto the man’s chest and closed my eyes in earnest prayer. I called upon Saint Lucien, the Exalted Horen, and GOD, to save the catechumen. Then, after my extensive prayers, to which the monks silently bore witness, I rose up a little and gazed upon the countenance of the deceased, waiting for the result of my prayer and the mercy of the Lord. After about ten minutes had passed, the warden placed a hand on my shoulder and said that while my gesture was of great symbolic significance and also greatly appreciated, it was time to move on. I thought he had a point, but waited yet some more time for GOD’s answer to my prayers. Scarcely had the space of two more minutes passed, when the dead man began to move a little in all his members and tremble with his eyes open for the practice of sight. The monks came closer to gaze upon the catechumen who they had formerly left dead in surprise, exclaiming loud praise to the Lord in ecstasy and immediately baptising the man afterwards. I stayed the night at the monastery then, together with warden Hughes and our men, and joined the monks in prayer the next morning, before being invited to furthermore join them in breakfast and their combat drills as was custom for pilgrims to Ulmsbottom. The High Pontiff had warned me already that these men were excellent martial artists, and I found myself easily outmatched by their champion in a friendly spar, as he had projected. We had a good laugh about it however, before I asked to talk to the man from the day before, who was recovering in the infirmary. I talked for a long time with the man, who’s name he told me was Bohemund and he said he was grateful for the mercy the Lord had had upon his soul, and thanked me for pleading patiently for it in prayer. Toward the end of the afternoon, one of the warden’s men told me it had become time to head back to the penal colony town of Ulmsbottom, and so I said my farewell to Bohemund. Upon coming out of the infirmary however, I was not only greeted by the warden and our men, but furthermore by a trio of priests, the headmaster of the monastery and two others, bathing in the golden light of the sun that stood low above the horizon already. They said to me that they wished to thank me greatly for the service I had provided the day prior with my prayer for the brother in the infirmary, and that they wished to give me something to take home with me from my pilgrimage. Then, from under a white cloth, they showed me an iron manacle, linked to a chain by a bolt. I had seen it the day prior in the reliquary, and they confirmed that it was one of their relics, once worn by Saint Lucien, then still known as Velwyn Ashford, as he ventured from Aeldin to Oren on a slave galley. I thanked them greatly for their holy gift and the many blessings that followed, assuring them that their gesture would forever stay with me. After saying farewell to them, we then left for the warden’s home in Ulmsbottom, where me and my crew stayed a few more uneventful days before setting sail for our next destination. Chapter 2: Wycke Shortly before me and my men were about to set off to Fjordhem, a dove delivered an envelope from home, containing some money along with a letter, a response to a letter I had sent home when I first arrived in Aeldin. I had told about how my money was stolen, and now my fiancé and family had backed me up by sending me some. I had prayed for my family to Saint Lucien, and suddenly a sign of support from my family came from my faraway home. It felt almost like a miracle from the Saint, and it made me realize that while you can’t rely on money, you can rely on your family and GOD. Having some funds on me ended up making a great difference to the events that followed. As I had been warned by not only the High Pontiff back in Arcas, but also the Warden about the treacherous waters around Fjordhem, I decided to hire one of the Fjordhemian former pirates that lived at the penal colony to serve as an aiding navigator. With this new addition to my crew, I bid my farewell to the Warden before setting off to the northeast, to the cold and windswept land of Fjordhem. We charted our course to sail towards the town of Austbo on the island with the same name, planning to dock there briefly before then sailing to the mainland of Fjordhem at the nearby destination of Wycke. At first, things were fine and we experienced smooth sailing. For those who have not seen navigation maps of Aeldin, there is a strong west to east current that flows along the northern shore of the continent, and for us this meant that we were making fast progress. Furthermore, the weather was amazing, it was cold and a bit windy, but the sun burned bright and warmed us, not to mention the wind was in our sails! It seemed like we were going to reach Austbo a day or two sooner than expected, and, all of us being in good spirits, we decided to keep going throughout the final night rather than anchoring, to see how fast exactly we could get there. Our navigator Bram, a tall, strong blonde Fjordhemian with bright blue eyes, said he’d never experienced sailing this smooth going to Fjordhem, and he joked we might set a record. As the island of Austbo became visible on the horizon, it was early in the evening, and as we were planning to sail throughout the night to get there quickly, we had a fast meal before intending to return to our positions. However, as we were briefly sitting down to eat some of our provisions, The Serpent calmly sailing forward in the sunset, the precariousness of the Fjordhemian weather first showed itself to us as the wind suddenly died down. After our meal, I instructed my men to get to their oars, having realized we’d need to cover the final stretch rowing. With our progress slow now, I kept a constant eye out for the next change of the weather to see if the wind would return. I did not have to wait long to spot the first signs of change, as a thick pack of clouds appeared from the northwest on the horizon. We were relieved at first, though it did not take long for us to realize that we were finding ourselves in the calm before the storm. The shore of Austbo during a nighttime storm Shortly after the fall of dark, it had gotten much colder. The strong wind had returned, but this time it came from the north and wasn’t helping us get to the island. As we continued rowing, the sky only turned darker as the moon and stars began to be hidden behind dark clouds. With the town of Austbo in sight on the shore in the distance, we heard the first signs of a thunderstorm in the north. The waves became rowdier by the minute and if it wasn’t for our Fjordhemian navigator, we would have crashed on various rock formations that pierced the water. Soon the rain started pouring down upon us and between it and the towering waves, we no longer had sight of neither the town nor the shore itself. As we were going through the ever increasing storm blind at this point, the Fjordhemian navigator and I myself agreed that it would be best to steer clear from the shore rocky for now and instead set course northward to avoid being blown off course too far south. For hours upon hours, my crew and I braved the relentless storm, gliding up and down waves that must have been higher than houses in our ship that seemed very tiny all of the sudden. We were tired and weary as it must’ve been in the middle of the night at this point but we constantly needed to put in all our energy to keep the ship under control. It seemed like there was no end to this storm. Our ship was getting damaged, not too badly at first, but as more and more damage started mounting atop of one another, the condition of the ship got seriously worrying. As this wild ride in the night dragged on, my crew became increasingly tired and less able to weather the storm. A big wave that crashed onto the ship nearly caused one of the rowers to fall into the water, only staying on board with the help of two others. As the night dragged on towards the morning and the storm yet showed no sign of ending, our ship and my crew were in a dire state. Having lost all hope, I kneeled at the helm, soaked by salty seawater, and began praying to Saint Malcolm. Why would he do this? The patron Saint of storms, pushing us to our limits on my pilgrimage to him, with a storm so fierce it would make even the hardiest of seamen afraid. I prayed to him to aid us, he had tested us, and we had resisted the storm so far, had we not? With faith in the Lord, I begged him to save us, before promptly needing to return to the helm to guide us along a tall and rough wave. By the time morning came not long after the prayer, the thunderstorm had stopped. And while it still rained heavily, the sunrise managed to show through the clouds, revealing the main island of Fjordhem looming in the distance. As the storm further calmed, we dared to venture closer to the shore of the island. It took a while before our Fjordhemian navigator recognized a part of the shore so he could tell us where we were, then telling me to throw the helm around as it turned out we’d been blown a fair bit off course and Wycke was the other way. Around mid-day however, we came near the capital of Wycke, and a large fishing vessel came out to guide us into the harbor. We had made it at last. The Serpent being guided into the harbor of Wycke. Later that day, we had docked the ship properly in the cove the capital city of Wycke was situated in, and we went into the town to orient ourselves and buy new supplies while some of our men stayed behind to repair the ship and rest. The High Pontiff had told me that Wycke was not a big city, and it seems like he was right. He’d told me it would have a population of about twenty thousand people however, which seemed less accurate. Instead much of the town was deserted, with many buildings either boarded up or crumbling. As I stood in the middle of a small square, trying to determine where the centre of the town would be where the shrine to St. Malcolm was to be found, I suddenly felt a tug on my coat. Upon turning around, I was greeted by a thin, raggedy man, begging for money. After I gave him two golden minas, I asked him for his name and where I could find St. Malcolm’s shrine. The man introduced himself as Ailbert and said that in gratitude for my charity, he would take me to see the shrine. On the way we passed some more boarded up houses, which I asked him about. Ailbert said that things weren’t going well for Wycke. He told me that a series of cold winters and a lack of much fish to be caught drove many people to emigrate to the mainland of Aeldin, or pursue piracy, which in turn caused more to leave as the limited fishing industry that remained came in increasing danger. At that point we came to the shrine and Ailbert bid me farewell as he went to buy food with the minas I’d given him. I blessed the poor man before turning to the shrine. Pontiff James II had written down that upon arrival, pilgrims would offer the shed skin of a viper to the shrine as was custom. Until now I had been unsure of how I would get the viper’s skin, but it seemed that an entrepreneurial local merchant had made use of this tradition, as I spotted a shop nearby that had snake skins hanging in the window. I bought one and offered it to the shrine of the holy man, something that was supposed to grant me immunity from the bite of a viper, though like the High Pontiff, I was not too sure if that is just folklore or a miracle the Saint will grant me. I made a brief prayer at the shrine to Saint Malcolm, thanking him for allowing us to weather the storm of the night before, after which I paid a visit to the local cathedral. There I prayed for the rest of the afternoon and spoke to a few priests before I made my way back through the half-empty town, past the shrine to Saint Malcolm. I went back down to the harbor, to check on my ship before joining my men in a local tavern to get a quick meal before hitting the hay early, exhausted from the sleepless night before. The next day we all slept in, having a minor breakfast late in the morning before I set out to make my way back to the cathedral, having agreed to meet up with a priest just before noon mass, to talk about planning a missionary trip to a local heathen tribe. The next day me, the priest and some of my men set out into the mountains of Fjordhem, travelling inland on foot for two days before entering the lands of the Damnonii tribe, a group of pagans who were slowly being converted to canonism. The tribesmen were an interesting folk and though they were pagan, they were surprisingly tolerant to our missionary visit, most likely because of the gifts we brought along. We gave them many furs which they clad themselves in extensively, along with some other gifts like preservable food, a bronze cross and one of the Holy Scrolls, which two young tribesmen who I was told were learning to read happily took from us. We stayed with the Damnonii for a few days, in which we preached the gospel to them and me and my men learned about some of their curious culture. The Damnonii covered themselves in blue and green bodypaint, which they offered to me and the other members of the mission as well, but I politely declined because I feared it had some pagan meaning. They also did a lot of wrestling while wearing nothing except a wool skirt. We helped them herd their sheep when needed, and at the end of our stay, four of the tribesmen, including the two young ones that were learning to read, agreed to convert to Canonism. I helped the priest with the baptismal ceremony which we conducted in a nearby creek. The countryside of Fjordhem where the Damnonii herd their sheep. Afterward the baptism, they wished to thank us, saying they had a gift for us in return. Their chieftain told us that in a recent war with another tribe, they had confiscated what they thought was something us canonists would like. To everyone’s surprise, he suddenly gave us what the priest said was the lost half of an important relic of Saint Malcolm. He handed us a brass serpent curled underneath a cross of the same material, part of the Brazen Staff of the Saint, is what I would be told later. I must say I grew quite fond of these odd people in the few days we stayed with them, even if they were weird pagans. The fact that they allowed men of GOD into their midst, showing us kindness and to an extent even accepting and joining us, showed me that even if some of GOD’s children are misled, they are often still good and pure of heart. When we headed back, St. Malcolm must’ve been proud of us, for the whole two days of travelling back to the coast, a warm sun shone upon us rather than the rain and wind that were commonplace here. After our trip to the Damnonii, we did not stay in Fjordhem for much longer, for winter was approaching. The last day I spent praying in the cathedral, until the priest that had gone with us came up to me and offered me the repaired staff of Saint Malcolm to take back to Arcas with us. He said the Bishopric was very pleased with our conversions, and that the Bishop was honored to have a pilgrim sent by His Holiness in Wycke. Thus they wished to thank me by giving me the relic cross which they had put back on the pine staff that it once sat on before being lost when a group of missionaries died in a blizzard. I thanked the priest and his bishop to no end, before leaving the cathedral at the end of the afternoon. Walking back down towards the harbor, I offered a bronze coin to the shrine of Saint Malcolm as according to custom, something he supposedly used to ward off pirates, before leaving again for the harbor, continuing on my pilgrimage back to the mainland, to Gaekrin. Chapter 3: Ervemark To our luck and delight, we experienced no stormy weather nor extraordinarily choppy waves as we sailed back to the Aeldinian mainland. The Serpent tore through the waves with the wind in our sails. As we realized we’d get to the port city of Ervemark sooner than expected, we came to the conclusion Saint Malcolm had to be with us now, shepherding us from potential storms just as we had shepherded the sheep of the Damnonii a few days ago. After leaving Wycke in the morning, we docked at the castle town of Sverngard in the evening, then six days later we caught sight of Ervemark. The so-called ‘City of Flames’ lived up to its name at the first sight of it. Upon docking in the harbor we had trouble keeping our eyes off the view of this beautiful city in the distance. Its architecture was quite refined indeed, but what made the look of it all the more special was the material from which the finest of buildings was constructed: a reddish stone much like marble, that shone warmly, invitingly and purely beautiful in the late afternoon sun. The harbor of Ervemark was full of life, bustling with incoming and outgoing merchant-folk as well as some upper class looking ladies and gentlemen, sipping wine, playing music and singing to their heart's content as they floated about the harbor in small yet beautiful and luxurious sloops. We ended up docking in a somewhat remote corner of the port before walking the boulevard, a broad street along the docks that was overshadowed by cliffs with ruins on top of them and buildings inside them. We searched for a place to stay the night and have dinner which we did with little effort.. A view of the port of Ervemark. . . .

Welcome back everyone to our second of Le diable sur ton épaule!! So a lot has happened in this short month or two, I’ve tried Orenian wine, Georg Ludovar made an oopsie, and a few other things. So let’s start with a bedtime story. Now you may or may not have heard this one before. Once upon a time there was a young woman, she wasn’t the brightest due to her youth nor the most beautiful (but in her eyes and in most others she looked wonderful)( ok maybe she was the most beautiful. I can’t tell as I’m trying to decipher near decade old diary entries alright? Cool back to the story.) She didn’t know many other people her age growing up but she did read quite a bit, in fact at times books were her only friend, they provided an escape a perfect world, a world where there wasn’t ulterior motives and where young women were carried off by majestic princes to a land of magic and happiness. What she didn't realize is the closest thing to that in the real world was a mix of alcohol, cactus green, and same sex relationships!!. One day after she moved with her parents to a certain city in the north where showing skin is a ‘sin’ and there she met a young(ish) man. Now he was quite a few years older than her and he was also seeking the hand of another, alas over time the two started talking and the man twisted the naive girl around his finger with his lies, sweet nothings, and the fairy-tale mindset that she possessed believing it to actually be true. Now this continued on for months though eventually the young man who was about 18 at the time met the girl's parents. She was close to 14 at the time (if my math is correct it may be off though but around that age). As any smart person would, the parents said no and tried to stop her from seeing him again, though it didn't help and eventually they started seeing each other again, and this time he proposed and in the heat of the moment, his arms wrapped around her, she said yes. This was a bad decision and soon after this she realized this and gave the ring back saying she needed to think, but the young man did not give up. He sent letters telling of how he risked his life for her and country and life was nothing without her. While in reality he cared nothing for her and saw her only as some future breeding stock. Finally she broke down and accepted. As soon as she was back in his grasp he whisked her away to Sedan to keep her from her parents but eventually she managed to get home to her mother and father and from there they helped her escape the situation. And all's well that ends well, well at least whenever the man in question (he knows who he is, she says hi by the way) is lying in a shallow grave. Now onto my favorite!!!!!!! Wine and Daggers!!!! So lets see, the best dagger for self defense and murdering your ex, I personally would go with a stiletto as one of my friends tells me if goes very well strapped to the thigh under a dress and I've used them enough that I know how but it is really up to your personal preference!!!!!. Wine, well I tried a few recently and none stuck out, I’d stick with Fennic Wines until further notice though Orenian is passable. Private Armies!!! So, as we all know I am an expert on military tactics (yeah no I'm really not). So to make up for my lack of expertise in siege warfare I direct my viewers to James Maelstorm of the blue desert company but he may be busy so as I always say, stick with the poison and let the men kill each other by the thousands. For our Love Story Well, I lost a bet, the absolutely beautiful Adrianna Barclay did get back together with her pet Charles Darkwood according to my sources, sorry all of you fans of one of them out there, I don’t know what to tell ya! For Our Last Section I Present Georg Artur Ludovar!! So at the time of writing this is fairly recent but at the Masquerade during the hide and seek game he decided to tell the young daughter of Isabella Decaden to jump off the roof and not die, this ended in her getting a broken leg and the party ending. Very responsible George! Well that is all for this issue, I hope you enjoyed it!! No illustrations this time but plenty of content, thank you for reading and have a great day. Remember, shoulders and ankles must show!!! -Farley

The Content Begins!!, So, first things first since this is our first wonderful issue. I am your wonderful Farley DeFont, maybe I’m real, maybe Farley is a pseudonym, mauve you are all stark raving mad and imagining this!!! Whatever it is, I will be the little devil on your shoulder for all the juicy gossip, scandalous fashion advice, and all the deep, dark, and demented desires that we all have, maybe I will also share some sheet music, art, and embroidery patterns if I can make them work. Most likely I’ll just share my wine affected opinions on today and the various people. With that welcome to the first issue of Le diable sur ton épaule. So what do I have for you beautiful women and stuffed shirt men for this issue? Besides the fact that Fennec White Wine is great, champagne and orange juice go well together, and that Belladonna Maelstorm was easily the sexiest princess of her time. Hmm, how about the fact that the wannabe knight Erwin Bishop (note the lack of ser or lord) turned down a duel from the wonderful Stephanie Mendez though he is by my estimate about 100 pounds larger and much taller, not that I’d be intimately close with Stephanie Mendez’s wonderful body as I am a woman and that is a crime. So last but not least I have the fashion piece of the however long between issues is, may be a bit scandalous for palace events but I’m sure you could find some use of it!! Wear it well and I’ll Include a sketch in the next issue!! Well that’s all for now, but rejoice it's only the first issue and while I wasn’t able to get much content in, the more of you who read this and seek me out to alert me of stories, wine, gossip, and the like, the more I can include here!!. Well that’s all for now, stay young, stay beautiful, and have a good time -Farley DeFont (if you want the cut juicy content let me know and I will make a paid version once I have gotten at least 15 requests) ((NO I’M NOT GOING TO COVER THE SOCIAL SEASON THIS TIME AROUND, IT'S TOO FAR ALONG)) OOC: Welp Salmon has done it I've made a magazine Get over it

To (@Lomiei)Erwin Bishop (who has seemingly lost the titles he valued so highly), I am not a vengeful person, nor do I wish your family to be hurt by such a challenge as this. Alas, you have seemingly hurt your family enough yourself so I find myself in the position where I am no longer conflicted on this matter. You are guilty of kidnapping, ruining lives, ruining relationships, manipulation, and leaving a trail of pain and misery wherever you go. At first I thought I was your only victim and with that I was willing to remain silent, but now that I hear what you have done to those around you and those unfortunate enough to share blood with you or bear your children I have had enough. I challenge you to a duel to the final breath to be fought with the weapons of your choice at a neutral location. The time and jurisdiction will remain your choice and other terms will be set beforehand between seconds. This is both a challenge against you and the tolerance of your actions. As custom dictates you must appoint a second to send your response to the challenge in a timely manner. -Stephanie @Based1Salmon

❦ Cozy Cafe Skin Auction ❦ [ SOLD !] This is my first ever skin Auction! I didn't know that I coincidentally named every single outfit after food when Imade these, thus leading to the 'cafe' theme! These skins are for females and are based on the clothing from Haense, Oren and Yong Ping! ALL SIX SKINS ARE MADE BY YOURS TRULY! ♥ ───── ❝ RULES ❞ ───── ➤ All bidding starts at 250 Mina ➤ Minimum Increase of Bids will be 10 - 100 Mina ➤ No editing any of your bids. Only comment if you are bidding. If you are bidding again please make a NEW COMMENT. ➤ No reposting/claiming/reselling ANY of the Skins. ➤ Any edits to the skin MUST BE REQUESTED to me, after the Auction is over and is sold to the winners. ➤ If you have any questions, please DO NOT COMMENT IT. Send the question to my Discord : agape#1755 ! The Auction will end in 3 days. Tuesday, August 24th, 5PM MT (Mountain Time)! ❝ FORMAT COMMENT ❞ DISCORD: IGN: SKIN TITLE: BID: ───── ༻✧༺ ───── ❦ SKIN MENU ❦ [ CLICK TO VIEW UP CLOSE! ] ❀ Watermelon Wheat Fields Hanbok ❁ Sweet Summer Honey Hanbok ✾ Sakura Tea At Midnight Kimono ❋ Soft Sugar Plum Kimono ✧ Tangarine Dreams ❇ Pale Marine Gin ❦ Good Luck! ❦