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  1. AFFIRMATION OF THE LORDSHIPS OF WOLAVIA AND VISKA Issued on the 8th of Sun's Smile, 1931 Our house has always worked hard in service to their King, whoever that may have been. This is still the case as we serve the Alstion Kings of Aaun. Our enthusiasm does not diminish and the House moves forward achieving new goals. My brothers work as hard as I do to build up the reputation of our House. Aleksander helps out in the Legion and as Master of the Hunt, while Witold endeavors to become an Alchemist. In appreciation of their efforts and toil, by my authority as the Count of Warsovia, in consultation with the Prince of Alstreim, I confer on them the titles of Lordship. My brother Aleksander Wilhelm Jazloviecki and his descendants shall from now on bear the title of the Lords of Wolavia, while Witold Piotr Jazloviecki and his descendants shall be named the Lords of Viska. Let this be a reminder to everyone that hard work always bears fruit. Through our efforts, the power of the region of Merryweather and our United Kingdom of Aaun is growing. May we see such fruits borne once more through the labors of others in the future. W IMIĘ BOŻE, HIS LORDSHIP, Waclaw of House Jazloviecki, Count of Warsovia, Margrave of Grodno and Lvinsk, Count of Krakovia, Baron of Jazloviec, Warden of the Arentanian Alps, Defender of the Lechian People and Grand Hetman of the Eagle’s Watch APPROVED BY, HIS HIGHNESS, Heinrich II Lothar von Alstreim, Prince of Merryweather and the Rhine, Landgrave of Alstreim, Baron of Corwinsburg, Lord of Blackwater
  2. AFFIRMATION OF THE BARONY OF TRIGLAV Issued & Confirmed on 22nd of The Amber Cold, 1927, Merryweather After years of faithful friendship between our houses, the bond that unites the Princely House of Alstreim and the Comital House of Jazloviecki is stronger than ever. With this in mind, and having traced the pages of our shared history, I could not help but notice that in the past the Jazloviecki-Svarogovich line held its own title. This title was forgotten by the King of the Novellen dynasty. The same one who called himself their friend but did nothing to help them when they required that assistance. Witnessing how thriving Warsovia is, it would be a sin to forget the merits of the second house that forms House Jazloviecki. As a recognition of the years of faithful service, not only of Mikhail Jazloviecki, but also of his late great-grandfather, Holy Sir August Mikołaj Jazloviecki, I officially restore the title of Baron Triglav to Mikhail and his descendants. The Baron's future will henceforth be linked to that of the Count of Warsovia and he will be bound by the same vassal contract. May good fortune be with us as we continue our fruitful work and build the United Kingdom of Aaun together. GOTT MIT UNS, HIS HIGHNESS, Heinrich II von Alstreim, Prince of Merryweather and the Rhine, Landgrave of Alstreim, Baron of Corwinsburg, Lord of Blackwater
  3. Depiction of Warsovia in the summer [♪] [!] A private letter written in Lechitic and addressed to Waclaw Jakub Jazloviecki, brought to the young Count by a homing pigeon. The letter bears the seal belonging to Jan Jazloviecki, the first Count of Warsovia. ((Please do not metagame and RP the contents of this letter unless they are shared by the recipient.)) @ratlordmagic Waclaw, my dearest son, I'm sorry to have left so many things on your plate. You're still young, a bit foolish and impulsive, but I was no different when I was your age. I don't know when this letter will reach you, but I want you to know that the voyage is going smoothly. We should reach our destination soon enough. This information always comforts me in some way, but between you and me I will tell you that I have heard it so many times already that I no longer believe it. Having many days to myself, undisturbed by anyone, I decided to write this letter to let you know that my thoughts are always with you. I would like you to look at everything I have done from a slightly different perspective after reading this letter. Maybe you will notice something remarkable in this story for yourself. I was a young boy, younger than you are now, when I was forced to live through the terrors of the Harvest Revolution. I saw blood, corpses, pain and suffering of the people I called friends and family. I saw what happened to my father, what happened to my sisters and brother. Each of us was affected differently by this conflict. The revolution left a mark on me that I have never been able to shake off. Feelings of guilt, powerlessness and weakness. I felt inferior to my siblings but at the end of this road it turned out that I was the one who survived the longest. I was the one who raised up our bloodstained banner and crossed the river Petra to reach the place you now call home. It was a huge endeavour. Together with your uncle Henryk, we set up camp in the ruins. The days passed quickly but there was more work than we thought. Cleaning up the rubble, clearing the courtyard, gathering large amounts of stone, wood and other materials from which we built Kamieniec, our new home. The new seat of House Jazloviecki was nothing when compared to Grodno, but we were humble. It was not much, but it was enough for us at the time. I lived in the castle and didn't pay attention to what was around me. My family still lived in Petra. It was so foolish of me to care little about them. When they needed me most I was not there. Bianka was murdered and the wound in my heart reopened. Did I hate her? Yes. Blind pride and the belief that she could not match our father's genius caused my neglect of our relationship. By the time I wanted to fix this, it was too late. My sister was dead and there was nothing I could do about it. I don't wish you to ever have to go through such a thing in your life dear son. After this incident when I officially became the patriarch of the house, I married your mother. My life changed completely. I have always said to you, your brothers and sisters that it is family and loyalty that comes first. I still hold that view. If I can ask for anything, and I know I have been a terrible father and you may hold a grudge against me, but if there is one thing I can ask for then please take care of your siblings and stay loyal to those who gave us new life. Take what fate gives you no matter if it's better or worse than what you were getting before because there may come a day when you lose everything. Enjoy your family and what's around you while you still have it. I don't know if this voyage will end successfully, or if the merciless sea will swallow me and the crew up, but know that if this letter is the last you will ever recieve from me - I love you dearly Waclaw, my firstborn son. I am always with you. Your father,
  4. [♪] It was a sunny day in the realm of the Argent Sun. A Holy Knight, named August Jazloviecki-Buckfort was sitting in his old armchair that remembers the golden era of Savoy, while smoking his cigar. The sun was shining on his old, hairy face and the man simply smiled at the distant star. He was old, he sensed that his end would come sooner or later. He puffed his cigar one more time before extinguishing it and standing up “It’s time” he thought to himself before walking back inside the old Triglav Keep. The man put his sword on the clothed table and prayed for a moment. Once he was sure of his intentions he went down to the cellar and took out a barrel of Uruk Guzzoline. “I once cheated death, it’s due time to embrace it” he said to himself before walking out with the said barrel and putting it on his horse. It took several days for the Knight to reach the heartlands that have been like a second home for him ever since his beloved Savoy fell. There was one thought in his head - Dumapalooza. So as he did exactly what he has planned - August approached the gate, and greeted his nephew Aleksander Wilhelm with a smile, as none of his relatives knew of his intentions. He went in carrying the barrel in his bag,after that the Old Knight went for a peaceful walk toward the building, while entering he moved through the crowd to find himself standing near the fireplace that was close to the podium where the candidates for a new Duke of Adria were standing. He hesitated a bit, but after a short prayer he glanced at the gathered Adrians and opened the barrel. The smell was quite distinct, though due to the crowd it didn’t spread quickly. August raised his arms and poured all the content of the barrel over himself. He was certain that his decision was righteous and thus this action will be the best and only possible way to purify his soul. Moments later the elderly man reached into the fireplace and immediately caught on fire. The crowd turned their heads towards the Knight but it was too late. Holy Knight screamed his last words as his body stood in flames… His goal was simple - hit the representatives of House von Draco, enemies of his relatives and of his own. Then the most unexpected of all possible things happened - a poor recruit stepped in to stop the burning Knight. He could not stop therefore he rushed into the boy, causing burn damage to his clothes and skin. He did not succeed, but he tried. His duty was fulfilled and his soul cleansed. The last Argent Legionnaire, last living Savoyard and last Jazloviecki Holy Knight dropped dead as his body burned in agony. August Mikołaj Jazloviecki-Buckfort lived 109 years, now he departed on his last journey, to find eternal peace and finally reconnect with his lost friends and family.
  5. THE STORY OF THE LECHIAN ARTILLERYMEN [♪] The sun has not been seen in Karosgrad for months. The dark night shrouded everything and the only sources of light were lamps and bonfires. Humanity has struggled with the bane that was the Mori for a very long time. The battles in the human kingdoms were constant. People were dying like flies trying to fend off the attacks of these spawns of Iblees. The time has come for the final battle for the fate of humanity. The last capital on the continent to hold out while the human Kingdoms of Balian and Aaun as well as the elven, dwarven and orc ones fell. Volunteers streamed into the Haenseni capital from all directions, and their flags flew in the cold nightly wind. Amidst these masses of volunteers were the flags bearing the White Eagle. The proud people of Lechia, despite coming in a group of only four, have answered the call. The flags carried by the volunteers bore a big White Eagle and the famous words "For Freedom Ours and Yours". When they arrived at the main square, they had no idea where they would be assigned, which gate or regiment. Then Lord Marshal, Wilheim Barclay, arrived and ordered the Lechians to defend the port gate. Their struggle to defend humanity began. The volunteers quickly ascended to the top of the gate where they were given two cannons and supplies of gunpowder and cannonballs at their disposal. Having split into two teams - Aleksander with Waclaw, Mikhail with Boon - the Lechians quickly began preparing the cannons. Shortly afterwards, others arrived at the gate. Many different nations fought at the same gate, but their shared goal was clear - prevent them from going through. First the locusts arrived and then hordes of slaves began to march across the dock. The first order was given by the Barclay: SHOOT AT THE HAY BALES SO THAT THEY START TO BURN Shots rang out and cannonballs hit their target. A first success for the men who will be called Artillerymen at the end of the battle. Blocking the slaves' access to the barricaded harbour gate, the cannons focused on the oncoming locusts. Children of Warsovia worked fast, almost like a mechanism - roll the cannon back, clean it, load it, push it forward, shoot, repeat. There was no time for mistakes, there was only victory in their minds. Cannonball after cannonball flew out, hitting their opponents perfectly. The horde of locusts had thinned out - it was time to target the infantry. The first and one of the few artillery stumbles, the right cannon jammed. While Boon and Mikhail cleaned the cannon, Aleks and Waclaw quickly reloaded theirs. Moments later Waclaw lit the fuse. A powerful blast resounded amidst the harbour buildings. After the dust had settled, nothing remained of the group of slave infantry at which the left cannon was aimed. They all died, the shot was perfect. Moments later, the two men on the right cannon have managed to load it once more and fired towards the right infantry group, also sweeping it away. Lord Marshal Barclay was pleased with the work of the brave Lechians. Suddenly the ground trembled. A terrible roar echoed through the dock. The Devourer of Dobrov arrived. BOON, LOAD UP THAT PLATE! Mikhail shouted to his comrade and rolled the cannon back to clean it. The two on the left cannon did the same. The fight continued. In addition to cannonballs, arrows flew from the gate and two nearby towers. Archers and people manning the catapults hit the enemies well, with more and more locusts flying down dead. It was time for another attempt, the cannons reloaded. Another two blasts resounded. Then the least expected thing happened. The beast, the Devourer of Dobrov, wailed and went back under the surface. The joy of the Lechians was indescribable. The temporary defeat of the centipede gave them courage and strength. It doubled their efficiency. Suddenly, arrows came flying and Boon was hit. As he was pulled back to the tower, the Lord Marshal himself came to help Mikhail operate the cannon. Shortly afterwards Sir Ludolf Barclay arrived and swapped with Duke Wilheim in helping with the right cannon. Unfortunately, despite their efforts, more and more hordes were streaming towards the gate and the huge centipede seemed to be approaching the surface again. The second order was given by Lord Marshal: RETREAT! JAZLOVIECKIS MAN THE CANNONS ON THE STREETS! This was what they did. They fired at the oncoming hordes for as long as possible. They strategically retreated as far as the central barricade where the gunpowder depot was. It all went good until the pavement ripped and a smaller centipede emerged from underneath, probably the offspring of the Devourer. There was no time to waste. The Lechians were shooting fast. Even wounded Boon with a bandage wrapped around his belly helped Mikhail to load the cannon. After all, the pain was less important than duty. Finally one of the cannonballs shot by Aleksander and Waclaw got the smaller centipede and killed it. That was not the last of their problems - there came the Legionnaires. The defenders were outnumbered, they had no chance. Forced to retreat once again, all have abandoned the barricade. Yet one of the Lechians did not retreat. Young Aleksander Jazloviecki stood on the barricade until the very last moment before setting the reserves of gunpowder on fire and running back towards his comrades. The explosion was enormous. Many Legionnaires died, staining the walls and ground with their blood. Another small victory for the Lechian volunteers. The fight was soon to be over, with forces from the harbour gate being pushed back against the palace. All forces were to retreat, except the brave Artillerymen. The Lord Marshal ordered them to fire one last time as soon as the enemy armies came close to the palace. Mikhail and Boon fired first, injuring two Dreadknights. Then fired Aleksander and Waclaw, hitting the incoming Legionnaires with their last grapehsot. After that they were forced to pull back for good along with others. Karosgrad was lost. Their work in defence of Haense and humanity was over. Even though they failed, they did their best to prevent it... From that day the story of the four brave artillerymen, who together resisted the Mori hordes, is known among all Lechians and members of House Jazloviecki. Through all, they prevailed.
  6. ONE LAST TIME Writ of abdication of Jan I Jazloviecki, Count of Warsovia [♪] FOREWORD Thirteen years ago I have stepped on this soil for the first time since the fall of Grodno. It was a milestone in my life, and a thing I have thought to be impossible at the time. I have stepped on this sacred hill not as an exiled man but as the Lord and Count. It was ours once more - Grodno. The dream of my father and grandfather, of my uncles and aunts, dream of me and my siblings. Many doubted me. Too many to count. Even among my closest relatives words of doubt have spread like a thick mist. I did not falter. I have fought for what was rightfully ours and what was taken from us by impious de Vilains of Acre. Against all odds, I stood proudly with my head held high. Of course, none of this would have been possible had it not been for Ottomar von Alstreim, my best friend and brother of my beloved wife. He was the one who saw the opportunity and let me take it. Since that day, our Houses have been connected by a bond stronger than in the days of my grandfather Borys and his grandfather Ulrich. Warsovia wouldn't be the same if it wasn't for the people who, in addition to Ottomar, supported me in my pursuit of my goal. COUSIN HENRYK A person who was with me everywhere and at all times. Day or night, together we erected this castle without outside help. It was our work, our creation. Now, thanks to this hard work, our family can live with dignity. UNCLE WIKTOR Someone who supported me from a young age. Bald and untitled but worth more to me than a whole army of loyal soldiers. We have spent many good and bad moments together over these thirteen years. We defended this castle against invading bandits, we fought to defend Prince Henry. These memories will stay with me forever. UNCLE AUGUST A man that is no longer with us. He taught me what it was like to resist progressive thinking and stay true to the traditions and history of our House. He always gave me advice when I needed it and had an anecdote from his youth for every dilemma. I know that he is now up there with Grandfather and is looking at us gathered here. I think he has no reason to be ashamed of us and what we achieved. Now I have children too. So many that I can't count. I see a part of myself in each of them. Some resemble me and some resemble their mother but I love them all the same. This day is the one I dreaded the most - the day when I will be greying and they will be young and beautiful. Just as the brown of my hair is fading so is my power as Count of Warsovia. Today on the 2nd of Sun's Smile 1922 I abdicate in favour of my first-born son Waclaw Jakub, and install Wiktor Jazloviecki as his Lord Regent. This state of matters shall endure until my son is old enough to bear the coronet. THROUGH ALL, WE PREVAIL. Signed, Jan Jazloviecki, Count of Warsovia
  7. Memories of Lord Aleksander Wilhelm from his time spent in the Adrian captivity. [ ♪ ] It was early evening, I was just enjoying my time in Neu Brandthof as is my custom. Bored with the silence, I decided to take a ride into the forest. Convinced of my safety, I mounted my black horse and rode out through the gate towards the other side of the river. My freedom lasted less than five minutes, as just over the bridge I heard a whistle and an Adrian Greycloak stood next to me with a spear in his hand. Naturally, I stopped my horse - I had no armour on and no sword at my belt. That wasn't good enough for that greedy Adrian dog, who shouted to me if I was one of the Minitzers. My explanations were of no use - I was attacked and forced to defend myself. God will be the judge as this impious brigand attacked a young boy of noble birth that clearly did not mean any harm to him nor his comrades. The loss was certain, for after all what could a fourteen-year-old do against an adult soldier? Defeated, I was tied up and put on a horse. My walk of shame began. I was taken to Velec where, for a long while, my captor could not find anyone to put "this Minitzer spy" in the dungeon. Of course, the local population came to see this "Minitzer spy" that I supposedly was and there were also those righteous people, whom God will save when their time comes, who wanted to free me for it was immoral to hold me captive. In the end what would a young man do, whose only thoughts were of revelry and freedom? - little if I dare to say so myself. Then I was given the honour of looking into the eyes of my grandfather's enemies. Members of House von Draco surrounded me but had no clue of who I was until the time of my questioning came. A kind-hearted soldier, a man called Renata, stood up for me. He did not want to allow them to do me any harm - before and during the interrogation, and I have promised him that he will be in my prayers. A red-haired priest, Father Walter, also came to see what the commotion was. In my eyes he is probably the rightest of all righteous Adrians. He defended me together with Renata and some woman whose name I didn't really hear until the end of my interrogation. Seeing that I knew nothing nor could I be of any use to anyone - some agitated for my release. This state of matters changed when another man of von Draco's line showed up. He was the one they called "Marshal". Even though he looked very scary to me, he treated me kindly - that is what I thought at least. Oh what a mistake that was, thinking that everyone would treat me like a human being, a living and feeling being deserving of at least a measure of respect. I was kept in the rain, at a table in the courtyard during the interrogation. Only when it stopped pouring and I was completely wet, ready for lung disease and certain death, was I taken to the dungeon. My real nightmare has begun. I was promised the safety and presence of Father Walter, this Marshal and unfortunately my pushy captor. I had no other choice but to comply. On my way to Velec, during my interrogation and once I was in the dungeon I kept on praying. Praying to God for my quick release and to be in one piece. There were five people in the dungeon with me - Father Walter, my captor, the Marshal and two mercenaries, from the looks of it one was from the south and the other was from Tetsugawa. The southerner entered the cell with me, which was quite strange, but I considered it a safety measure. Once Marshal left to check on something, things started to get weird - I was gagged and one of those mercenaries knocked Father Walter out before dragging him away. My kidnapper was shocked, I thought he knew how it would end. Then someone came, a woman, and everyone except of the man who was in the cell with me left. I thought that I was safe, but not for long. Two von Draco women appeared at the bars that separated me from them. They kept on insulting me because of my birth. What a dull life a person must have, who pours their aggression over an old family feud onto a young man, bound, soaking wet and with gagged mouth. The anger of her and some other lass of her blood had reached its peak once I did not respond to their insults, but instead prayed to my great grandfathers Venerable Borys Jazloviecki and Venerable Ulrich von Alstreim - true and exemplary Canonists. They were clearly with me. Lady von Draco had no keys to the cell! I laughed in my thoughts but it did not end there as she tried to bash and then lockpick the sturdy iron door. Her last attempt failed and the lock jammed - I was safe, for now. They kept threatening me with death for the next hours, but my faith in God was too strong. I did not listen to their words and threats because I believed in the Lord's defence. When they got tired and left, I fell asleep and woke up in the forest. I was free, truly free. I don't know what happened to Father Walter, to Renata or to other good people who wanted to help me and opposed their superiors. I will pray for you and if God will allow me to repay you for this kindness, I shall do so when this war is over. God be praised and savage Adrians be damned, Vigour in Faith. Through all I prevailed,
  8. [This post is about an IRP event, if you were not there you don’t know about it!] A lot of things were to be said about Otton. A lonely individual, a misguided individual, a gullible individual. A pushover. Despite being one of undeath and immortality, there was still an ever so slight resemblance of his previous life within his bones toward his own kin. He was doing just that, aiming to assist his kin and an attempt at repairing mistakes, reconciliation. A quick meander happened upon that keep and he would greet the man outside. A quick exchange of words was to be had, before he was quickly ushered and led inside of those isolated walls. A cold feeling overcame Otton as he approached the project that was to be worked on, just a few days prior he had done the very same thing, his guard down from familiarity and comfort that his apology had been accepted in his mind. Misguided once more, nothing unusual for the immortal, yet this time truly fatal. An uncountable number of assailants, ones he had seen before and yet denied their deal. But this wasn’t about their rejected deal. It was about his actions. He had been found out, and no matter how innocent he truly was, guilty was all that awaited him. His pleas had run out, no more were to be accepted, and this plea to be his last. The impossible was being committed, an act so heinous he had only ever seen it once before himself, the event that had led up to the present. His power fell, a draining not felt before as genus was stripped from his marrows. Gift soon depleting, and nothing left of the Prince of Comoară, nothing left of the Hierarch of Illia’s Blood and nothing left of Otton Jazloviecki. He was truly slain. “You have become what you hate, what you feared has overtaken you. Your daughter unable to be brought back, and all was not by mine hands. Not even a smell is present upon my marrows and yet the most heinous crime against our kin to be committed. Revel in it, writhe in it. Your fate awaits you, eternal shunning and a life of being prey, not the hunter.”
  9. THE COMITAL BAN OF AMELIA IEKAMI Penned by the Komes of Warsovia, Wiktor Jazloviecki on 6th of Sun's Smile 1910 [ ♪ ] To all people who live in the Aaunic region of Merryweather, For years our family has fraternised with the Iekami family, who come from Yong Ping. My grandfather Borys gave them his friendship and trust. Over the years they have helped us with our work, helped by building, making, and fighting. But in any relationship, even the best one, there are stumbling blocks. Small ones that can be forgiven, but also larger ones that take longer to forgive. Unfortunately, Amelia Iekami, daughter of Genkai Iekami has committed too many offences to be able to seek forgiveness. By order of Count Jan I Jazloviecki - Amelia Iekami, on behalf of House Jazloviecki and those of Iekami family who remain alive, is accused of patricide, and a number of other murders committed on the territory of the former Margraviate of Lvinsk. She is also accused of causing her younger brother, Makoto Iekami, to lose his sight during an attempted murder of his person, in front of the capital city of Vienne in the presence of many witnesses. Amelia Iekami is wanted dead or alive by County authorities, any information is of value and should be brought to the County's attention. In addition to that, there is a reward for bringing her in: 150 Mina if she is brought dead, 250 Mina if she is brought to the County alive, or 50 Mina for any information that may lead to her arrest. Signed, Wiktor Jazloviecki, Komes of Warsovia
  10. THE DEFENCE OF WARSOVIA Description of the unexpected siege, from the point of view of the Defenders of Warsovia C. 1909 [ ♪ ] Depiction of Warsovia It was a sunny day, a day like any other in the mountains on the western border of the Kingdom of Aaun. Lord Jan and Lord Wiktor were just finishing their work when Prince Ottomar von Alstreim came to the castle. Due to exhaustion, Wiktor went to rest while his nephew Jan received the Prince and sat with him by the fire. Count Jan and Prince Otto are close friends, so the conversation between them was quite informal. They talked about everything and nothing, gazing into the dancing flames of the bonfire. When their conversation, as it usually did, descended into the subject of politics towards Petra, which was still at that moment in a state of civil war a sudden sound came from behind the two men. The sound of quick footsteps and as if with a whip Prince Ottomar suffered an axe blow to his black polished armour. "Jan! Look out!" exclaimed the red-haired prince, but in vain, as another blow went Jan's way. After a blow from his attacker, Prince Alstreim miraculously dodged the fire and fell right next to it. He picked himself up and ran at the thug, disarming him. Breathing heavily he offered his hand to Jan to get him up as well "What was that?!" muttered the Prince, fixing his hair. "I have no idea..." said the Lechian Count, equally confused. Their tranquillity did not last long, suddenly a horn sounded and the clatter of feet sounded behind the palisade they were just looking at - dozens of footsteps resounded through the mountain valley. "What is that sound Jan?" asked Ottomar, "I don't know..." Jan repeated once more and shrugged his shoulders before taking out his sword, "Get ready Otto, it's not over.". Little did they know what awaited them. Immediately, siege hooks appeared at the top of the palisade and the ropes to which they were attached tightened. A siege began that neither Warsovia nor Grodno had experienced. The two Lords stood in their armours and with swords in their hands - ready to face their opponents. The first wave of a dozen mountain bandits poured out from behind the palisade, leaping onto the compacted earth one after the other. The two men nodded at each other then went into battle together - slashing, piercing and dismembering their inexperienced opponents. The courtyard filled with bodies after a while of struggle. The Lords emerged victorious from the battle, yet their struggle was far from over. After the first wave of aggressors, a voice resounded: "Lord Ottomar, Lord Jan! We have surrounded the fortress, surrender immediately!" For these two, surrendering to unknown attackers was not an option, so they collectively replied " You will have to take us by force!" - and so it happened, the ropes tightened again, and more hooks came landing not only on the palisade but also on the walls. There was no turning back now. Bandits flooded the courtyard of the ruined Grodno, no longer in tens but hundreds. The fight was fierce, and in the course of it Ottomar disappeared somewhere. Count Jazloviecki managed to get to the castle where he closed the gate and woke up Wiktor. The two kinsmen wearing armour grabbed their bows and arrows and ran as fast as they could to the wall. The Lechians sent arrows into the enormity of their enemies one after another. It didn't do them much good and it was clear from a distance that the invaders had opened the gate and were drawing even more troops inside. In response, John instructed Wiktor "Shoot as many of them as you can, I have to inform the King!" and ran along the wall towards the aviary. The Count wrote two letters as quickly as he could - one to King Charles and one to his soldier Kazimierz, who was staying at Minitz that day - then sent the birds towards Neu Brandthof and the Aaunic capital. Enemies were not diminishing; on the contrary, the crowd seemed to be thickening. Jan joined Wiktor and they defended the castle together for just over an hour before a bird sat on the wall with an answer to one of the letters sent towards the capital. "Hold your ground, we are coming to relieve you, brothers!" ~Brandt Barclay So it was decided, help is on the way. This news gave the Warsovia defenders a boost. Arrows flew from the walls even more frequently - killing even larger swathes of enemies. Unfortunately, the vigour was not endless as Wiktor tapped Jan on the shoulder and said "Kurwa we are out of arrows!". Without a counterattack, the fall of the castle was inevitable - the only salvation was reinforcements from the King and Herzog of Minitz. Suddenly, siege hooks got on the gate and the attackers started to climb up the gatehouse. Unable to face the outnumbered enemy, the two Lechians were forced to flee to a nearby tower where they desperately defended themselves against the onslaught of swords. Then, after a few minutes of fighting the assault seemed to quiet down and a familiar shout came from the gate "REINMAR!". Depiction of Brandt Barclay waiting for an opportunity to break through the enemies to the castle The first reinforcements have arrived - Lord Brandt, heir to Herzog Leon, and Kazimierz, Thane of Warsovia. Jan and Wiktor knew they had to break through to the gate to let their allies inside, so they began a suicidal battle against a mass of opponents. God was with them - opponents in the gatehouse were defeated, and the way to the gate mechanism was free.With the power of their muscles, they set the mechanism in motion and let the two riders in. After a brief conversation, Kazimierz and Brandt joined the defence. They knew that they had to survive until support from the combined Minitz, Adrian and Alstion armies arrive. The sun was already setting and the smell of corpses was in the air. The defenders were exhausted after a long struggle, morale was waning. Suddenly the sound of hooves resounded, it resounded the same way as the footsteps of the opponents a few hours earlier. Kazimierz raised his head and looked out over the wall. His pupils dilated and he exclaimed: "Konni jadą!" then he took a moment to clear his throat and spoke in common once more "They're coming! Herzog Leon, Duke of Adria and King Charles!" Depiction of the Aaunic forces riding to Warsovia's rescue At the sound of hooves, the heads of the opponents turned towards the gate from where a large group of horsemen poured into the courtyard of the ruined castle. Armed with lances, spears and bows - soldiers of the allied armies of Alstions, Minitz and Adria came to save Warsovia from her inevitable defeat. The bandits besieging the gate were forced to retreat to assist their comrades who were being stifled by the fast cavalry, giving the defenders a chance to counterattack. So it happened, Brandt Barclay rose and, catching the bloodied sword in his hand, raised it to the sky "Lechs! Who believes in God - after me!". Wiktor opened the gate but was shot in the arm just moments later and forced to stay on the wall - he fulfilled his duty. Accompanied by Jan and Kazimierz, the young Waldenian fearlessly set off on his enemies. As the defenders poured out of the castle and the cavalry continued their recurrent attacks on the bandits, there were fewer and fewer of them left in the square. The sun was setting lower and lower, and the enemies began to flee in fear. At this point, everything was all but certain - victory belonged to the defenders. Defeating the last enemies, King Charles, Duke Heinrik and Herzog Leon rode up to the tired and bloodied defenders, even wounded Wiktor managed to get out of the castle to greet those to whom he owed his life. "Greetings Lord Jan, sorry for the delay but the Alps don't have the best roads." said his Royal Majesty, Charles Alstion "We came to the rescue as quickly as possible, ja." Herzog Leon added to that. After a brief conversation, from which nothing could be deduced - neither who ordered the bandits to raid, who they were, nor why they had come here in the first place, the army leaders thanked their soldiers and, after a moment's rest, departed back to their own lands. Depiction of the Warsovian battlefield THE SIEGE HAS COME TO AN END A battle like the siege of Warsovia has probably not been seen by any fortified stronghold in the history of Arentania. From that day on, Warsovia had a debt to repay to anyone who abandoned their business and rushed west to help, and anyone who has soiled their sword with the blood of bandit invaders can call themselves a friend of the Jazlovieckis. To commemorate the event, Count Jan ordered the creation of emerald pins for each of the defenders to honour their bravery. The aid given by the Aaunic Lords in the year of our Lord 1909 will live long in the memory of Warsovians...
  11. Penned by Count Jan Jazloviecki, on 12th of Tobias' Bounty 1909 [ ♪ ] Old depiction of Grodno, once home of the Jazlovieckis The die is cast, It is with a sorrowful heart that I officially announce the death of my sister and our matriarch Bianka Ophelia Jazloviecki. Despite our feuds, the lack of mutual understanding and the sometimes bitter words thrown at each other, Bianka was my sister and a person true to her ideals, her friends and her family. My sister was murdered by those she had considered friends for many years. In our culture, stabbing someone in the back is unacceptable and eminently dishonourable. The crime committed against a member of our family will not go unpunished. Fear grips my heart when I think what would have happened if my other two sisters had not remained in hiding, perhaps the funeral would have taken place with three coffins instead of one? Only God knows an answer to this question. Although our paths have diverged, and the family that followed me is not connected to the state that Bianka served, we will help as much as we can to avenge her death. After years of humiliation and mistakes, it is time for a new beginning. It is time to restore the splendour of this house, which has shown heroism over the years. To reach out to our friends whom we have spurned out of our own stupidity and proclaim: On this day I, like my grandfather Venerable Borys III did before me, raise the once again bloodstained banner with our White Eagle, because through all, we prevail. Signed, Jan Jazloviecki, Count of Warsovia
  12. Penned by Bianka Ophelia Jazloviecki, 6th of Owyn’s Flame, 1901 Throughout the many years of my familial turmoil, I have put forth myself to keep this house afloat. The waves crash against our family’s reputation as we sail on the open continent of Almaris and set foot in Petrine Land, creating a place of sanctuary for our bloodline. With the death of my father and mother, the leadership of the family had fallen to my oldest brother; however, nearly a year after he completely disappeared, the succession of the family went to my older sister. Very unfortunately, she had fallen ill during the winter cold of the same year, an illness not able to be cured with known medicine. Another many years passed while I played Lady Regent, praying my dear sister would regain her strength to guide our house but praying was never enough. In desperate need, I consulted with my sister, and we both have made a decision that I shall be the matriarch of House Jazloviecki and the succession line shall follow my branch of this family, being passed to my children, followed by my children’s children. With this conclusion, I wish for The Commonwealth of Petra to honor this arrangement if anyone were to question the legitimacy of my hold on the House of Jazloviecki. SIGNED, Lady Bianka Ophelia Jazloviecki, Matriarch of House Jazloviecki, Grand Chamberlain of River Court
  13. Penned by Walentyna Stasia Jazloviecki, 11th of the Amber Cold, 1897 House Jazloviecki has been one of turbulence and turmoil as of the last decade, facing many hardships from many different foes and internal sources alike. Unfortunately for all of us remaining, we have yet another to tally, concerning the sudden disappearance of Borys IV, the now former Jazloviecki Patriarch, and heir apparent of the House. We, as the remaining members of the house, cannot overstate our grief and confusion for Borys, who was a proud and upstanding boy who had great things envisioned for our house, and to have these opportunities so spontaneously stripped from all of us is nothing but heartbreaking. As the succession line falls, I, Walentyna Stasia Jazloviecki, shall be the new Matriarch of House Jazloviecki, but with my continued illness causing me to be unable to effectively take responsibility for our family, Lady Bianka Ophelia Jazloviecki will take the reins over our House for the foreseeable future. From this point onward, we may only attempt to look past this tragedy, and focus on the future for our house and look for greener pastures in our stint in Petra, and anywhere else time may take us. SIGNED, House Matriarch Walentyna Stasia Jazloviecki Lady Bianka Ophelia Jazloviecki
  14. Penned by Bianka Ophelia Jazloviecki, 1891 The nights howls with the emptiness left in our creaking home and most chattering has succumbed to silence with the loss of our parent’s presence. The breaking of dawn seems vastly lonelier with no clear view of where to go next with our life journey. Walking through those same streets where you laid your last breaths feels ever more suffocating. I wish for your companionship again, never would I have thought that I could lose you both at such a fragile age. There are so many life lessons I must learn in order to honour the name I have been given but you are not here to help me. I am sorry for how unruly I was, my childish antics overcame my common sense and I don’t know if I can forgive myself. There is still so much I desire to display to you, my harp skills have become quite adequate and I have become more ‘ladylike’ for you as I engrave similar looks to you both. I yearn for a last embrace or even a last goodbye for I have been stripped of even that. I do not care if you both were vampyres, first and foremost you were my parents who gave life to me. You both cared and treasured our family with every amount of love intertwined within yourselves. I wish for you to come back. I wish for the laughter we shared to ring in my ears once more. I wish for all of us to be family again. They have spilled the blood of my kin and I will never have those precious innocent moments again. Now I must live with despair and bareness of my soul as my pure childhood was cut short. I hope you are pleased with such outcomes and the destruction of the Jazloviecki youthfulness. SIGNED, Bianka Ophelia Jazloviecki, Daughter of Maciej and Ottillie Jazloviecki, Margrave and Margravine-consort of Grodno
  15. ON THE MATTER OF OUR PARENTS Penned by the bastard son of late Margrave Jan Jazloviecki, on the 2nd of Sun's Smile 1891 As certainly every person in Almaris knows by now, our parents - Maciej Jazloviecki, son of Borys Jazloviecki from Savoy, and Ottilie Franziska Jazloviecki née Castile, were executed in a public execution in the Sedan town square. Our uncle, Otton Jazloviecki, brother of our beloved father, also died with them. All three were beheaded by Prince Joseph I using his own sword. We condemn the actions of our parents and uncle, yet this does not change the fact that for us they will still be the people who brought us into this world, baptised us, brought us up and gave us a basic education and a decent life. We don't know how or who infected our parents and uncle with vampirism, but let them be damned whoever they were. A test conducted on us by one of the Cardinals who was instrumental in discovering our parents' secret showed a NEGATIVE result for each of us, saving us from a certain death. As of this date, our eldest brother Borys IV becomes the new Margrave and Patriarch of the house. Our house has survived a lot, yet this may be our greatest test. We love and will not forget our dear parents, may GOD have mercy on their souls. THE CRUSADE GOES ON, JUST AS OUR SAD LIVES GO ON WITHOUT OUR PARENTS. Signed, Borys IV Lukács Jazloviecki, son of Maciej Walentyna Stasia Jazloviecki, daughter of Maciej Bianka Jazloviecki, daughter of Maciej Valerija Anastazja Jazloviecki, daughter of Maciej Marek Jazloviecki, son of Otton
  16. ISSUED ON THE 11TH OF THE FIRST SEED, 1889 Upon the recent move to the Principality of Sedan, the women of House Jazloviecki find themselves seeking companions to socialise and confide in within their new homelands. Therefore, the Margravine-consort of Grodno and her eldest daughter Walentyna Stasia invite all women, both of noble and common blood in Sedan, to attend an afternoon tea party to enjoy some light beverages and the accompanying chatter that follows such events - whether it be idle conversation or gossip. Not only will this occasion introduce the new citizens of Johannesport amongst those in attendance, but hopefully shall establish further connections for a possible lady's society in the near future. SIGNED, The Most Honournable, Lady Ottilie Franziska Jazloviecki, Margravine-consort of Grodno, Baroness of Castile The Honourable, Lady Walentyna Stasia of Grodno
  17. DUST TO DUST The last message from the Margraviate of Grodno, penned on 9th of the Amber Cold 1885 [ ♪ ] Depiction of the ruins of Grodno To all those potentially concerned, almost a year ago I was faced with a choice - humiliation, or leaving with honour. I chose honour. Not knowing what awaited us, I decided that I and my men would leave the Eagle's Retreat, place we called home for over a decade. We packed up our belongings and set off - taking food, animals, gold and weapons. Our work did not stop there, we the people of Grodno do not give ours away to the others. We have set ourselves a clear goal - NOT A SINGLE BRICK. With this in mind, work began - sun or rain. We dismantled the fortress stone by stone, brick by brick. Almost like thirteen years ago, when I built this castle together with my brothers Otton and Stanislaw, and uncles August and Jindrich, I now had to dismantle it. It was the second time in my life that I had to leave home, but there was no time for sorrow - we are husbands, fathers, friends - we have higher goals than sadness. After months of work, our effort has come to an end. To commemorate our existence, we have erected a cross in the ruins of the castle, made of oak logs that used to hold the door to the feast hall. The cross is likely to disappear soon due to the weather, our possible enemies or other unknown causes. The memory will stay with us forever. Now our home is once again where my and my family's history experienced its best time - in the south. Our era in Oren ends with this day, and a new one begins in our new home. This is the last message written within the walls of what remains of Eagle's Retreat. May God protect those who believed in us, and vanquish those who wished for our downfall. Signed, Maciej Jazloviecki, Margrave of Grodno
  18. THE EXODUS OF GRODNO Penned by Maciej Jazloviecki, on 3rd of Malin's Welcome 1885 [ ♪ ] Depiction of Grodnoid ships leaving the Orenian shore To the people of Grodno, With the end of the Orenian civil war, it is time to account for the deeds of our council, soldiers and our people. Many have fallen in this senseless war that has consumed the souls of our brothers. They fought on both sides of the barricade, needlessly so. Now that hostilities have quietened down and the dust of war has finally settled - it is time for peace and reconstruction. A reconstruction that the House Jazloviecki will not carry out in the place they have called home since the fall of Savoy. Faced with a choice, the Margrave made a decision - It was time to leave what was ours and, with God's help, find a new home - the promised land. Grodno remains behind and our faces are turned to where hope for a better tomorrow stands. We will march out of our walls united, spitting in the face of death and the hardships of wandering, until we arrive where God will lead us. South, north, east or west - it does not matter, we will settle where there is room for us. With this day, we discard the past - the wrong as well as the right decisions. The future awaits us, but not here. We wish good luck and God's providence to the Harvest Confederacy and their allies. Those who want to follow us may do so. Those who want to stay, let them do so. Our toil in Arentania is over. As we depart in peace, we leave our final message: We forgive and ask for forgiveness. God will judge us for our actions against this land. Signed, T.M.H Maciej Jazloviecki, Margrave of Grodno T.M.H Ottilie Franziska Jazloviecki, Margravine-consort of Grodno His Lordship Otton Jazloviecki
  19. A storm came over Lvinsk. The rain was pouring constantly, the lightnings were striking in the distance. However, in the Jazloviec Keep there was one light burning in the window. In the largest bedroom on the bed lay Borys, the Margrave of these lands. His breathing was heavy, in his hand lying inertly on the bedclothes, he held a handkerchief in which he had coughed for two years. Next to the big bed, a boy, the second eldest son, Maciej, was sitting at a desk. He had a pen in his hand, and sheets of paper lay before him, as if he were ready to write. Then the old soldier spoke to him in these words “Write, my son, the time has come...” after which he coughed and Maciej started taking notes of his words. Letter to Sophia Jazloviecki-Barclay: Letter to August Jazloviecki: Letter to Tylos II: Letter to Jindrich Jazloviecki: Letter to Sebastian Velho: Letter to Prince Lucien Ashford di Savoie: Letter to Princess Renata and Duke Remus: Letter to Ernst Barclay: Letter to Adalrich Barclay: Having finished, Borys looked straight ahead. Apart from him, there were other figures in the room, though not as articulate as his son. Ulrich rested his hand on the edge of the bed, beside him stood Jurgen in the black and white armour he had on the day of the infamous coup. Leaning against the wall stood Bruce and right next to him Genkai. Then Jurgen spoke to him in these words "Come on now, how much longer do we have to wait?" and then he smiled. A tear trickled down the cheek of old Borys, who replied "Just a moment longer friends". Then Maciej asked "Tato, who are you talking to?" clearly not seeing the ghosts. Borys did not answer the question, but requested something from his son "Blow out the candle and go. Sleep well son" The Margrave kissed the forehead of the young descendant, after which Maciej extinguished the candle and left the room. That is how, after many years of struggle, Borys Jazloviecki, Margrave, Lord Commander, father, friend, enemy, passed away on the same night. He died peacefully, in his own bed, from which he set out on his last journey… Borys Jazloviecki, Margrave of Lvinsk, Lord Commander of Savoy, Argent Knight, Patriarch of House Jazloviecki
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