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2 yrs ago
Current Some of the damn quotes from old 80's animation is damn gold. If english isn't gonna cut it, just swap to ones native language and you have yourself some good comedy. Unlike hollywood post year 2000
2 yrs ago
Prepare for oblivion...
2 yrs ago
36yo today, one step closer to oblivion.
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4 yrs ago
Let the roleplaying shenanigans ensue! Fun times!
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4 yrs ago
Nationbuilding buisness is underway!

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Ayel Raunefeldt


Ayel's face grew more and more wrinkly with each words Sya uttered, his hands tightening into fists, the urge to lash out with his horsewhip was rising.

"Do not hiss at me you revolting reptile!" He almost spitted the words out, then adjusted his collar and pose atop his high horse.

"The prince gave it out all for free? You believe I would trust in the words of a one-eyed worm? I care nothing about your low quality barbarian brews, it's like serving bile on a bottle! My taste is much more refined and rich." He spoke in a angry manner, his noble nose wrinkling the more he thought about it.

Why in the world would the prince feed these lowlife workers for free? It seemed so foreign to him. Were he truly the son of the great Aurelian king? His friend which he had grown up with and played in the royal gardens with. Even if the prince's favorite game was hide and seek where Ayel was always left to do the searching. It irked him. Had some peasant or that wicked witch princess of the north ensnared him? He had to talk some common- No.. some noble sense into the prince. Unless… The noble took a moment to think more deeply, what if the free food was a way to ferret out the weak? Could the prince have added some poison to the supply to thin out the herd's weakest members? The Marquess' eyes seemed to widen and then his expression turned to a more pleased one.

The prince was a genius. Ofcourse it had to be some reason like that. Or having the otherwise thick-headed louts do what he needed them to do. Like feeding things to the dumb ox to plow the fields, as long as the serfs were kept in check and dumb enough, that was good to him. They were after all living for one purpose alone, to serve their betters. He mentally moaned to himself, almost wanting to raise his gloved finger to his mouth to taste it. So delicious was the imagery he was provided with.

Ofcourse the prince knew these barbarian serfs better than him, he likely knew just the right way to make them somewhat useful. But still.. there remained that one problem with the barbarian princess, She had to be taken away from the prince by some means. She was a bad influence on him, she might even convince the prince, who was noble in his heart of rebelling against his esteemed father. The very idea of a civil war made the noble frown, he didn't want to get dragged into a battlefield, he was a lover not a fighter. But then again it could have been a good way to make a profit or thin the dumb working herd.

The noble phased back into the scene and his eyes fell on the building, which was seemingly the Eye of the beholder. Some kind of inn. He hated it. It was bigger than his home in progress, he couldn't let the presence of that vile structure ruin his view out of his bedroom window to be. It had to be demolished somehow. What if there was an accidental fire? The noble chuckled in his mind, the very idea made him feel giddy inside. But soon he set his eyes on Sya again.

"No matter how much pillows you throw into a pig sty, it is still a pig sty, no matter how big it is. And no matter how much you fabric you strip on a repulsive reptile it is still slithering and- disgusting!" He grimaced and adjusted his seating on his horse, giving Sya a condescending look. "How dare you look at me with that disgraceful gaze? Bow your head if you wish to keep it. I happen to be a Marquess and a friend of the prince. I am rich you know. Now creature, you may kneel… or curl or whatever your ilk does. I take it your master has at the very least taught you that? I am Marquess Ayel Raunefeldt, you silly serpent, I am here to ensure that QUALITY is kept within Dawnhaven. I am the guildmaster of the highly esteemed Aurelius Emporium. It wouldn't suprise me if you ill informed thralls wouldn't even know -that-. And I AM the man of honor. Look upon me and tremble at the display of grace, you meager maggot." He said in a self-indulging voice, clearly proud of all his titles. How they clad him magnificently.

@PrinceAlexus
Ayel Raunefeldt


The Marquess was pleased, it was the most important mission of the day to the nobleman. His solitude with himself had been a trial, not because he found himself to be awful company, but because there had been no opportunity to display himself before everyone else.

It wasn't that he would admit he loved being looked upon in jealousy, in praise and worship. At least that was what he told himself. It was to display his higher standing in life to all manner of people under him.

He couldn't afford some peasants to start planning some revolt or put forth some request to impose restrictions on his noble class. The very idea made him shudder.

Yet for now he had eaten his breakfast and was saddled atop his favorite white horse, with enough fabric covering the horse to keep it warm and make sure that the noble rider wouldn't get any horse-fleas or hair on his fine garments. Not like any of his horses had any fleas, he had specifically instructed his workers and Faldrin to keep them clean and far away from other horses.

Even with horses things had to be separated by class. He loved it.

As Ayel rode in on his horse into the middle of Dawnhaven, he expected them to greet him with waving and saluting. But as he had not announced his arrival to the prince, there were no trumpets. But it soon became clear to him there would be neither of the things he expected. He recoiled in shock to what he saw, serfs lining up for food, and not having to pay for it. The nobleman felt the sweat building at his forehead despite the cool air.

'Who is the business disaster that has made this affront?' His eyes scanned his surroundings with scrutiny. Were there some other noble present? One of those 'new times' nobles which spoke up in favor of the peasants. He hated those class traitors.

He grew more and more concerned as he heard the chatter of all the commoners, their faces lit up with hope, their dirty clothes and faces stuffed with food. They were happy.

The noble felt a big lump in his stomach. This was wrong. So very wrong.

'His royal majesty must know of this right away... there's some rebellious activity in this place. Perhaps my dear friend the prince could stop this display of wasting resources to the unworthy.' Ayel adjusted his large feathered hat, pulling his bothersome lock of hair from his face.

He looked over the crowd from his elevated position on his horse. At least he felt good about looking over them, like one would watch an anthill with all those workers serving their leader. The momentary thought put him in a better mood as he moved closer with his horse.

"Make way. Out of the way. I don't have all day." He said aloud. Directing people to make a path for him, the people giving him glares. Him of all people. How dared they. One of the serfs even had the gall to sneakily slip his horse a carrot.

"Stop that at once. My horse is on a strict diet, it must not eat low quality- where do you think you are going? I am talking to you-" He gritted his teeth as the serf eluded him and vanished into the sea of serfs. Once lost in there, he felt unable to tell it apart from the rest. They all looked and smelled the same.

He thought he could see the guardsman which had pestered him a week ago. His face was more memorable to the noble. Having made sure to memorize the people whose wronged him. He also could smell... farmer stench. But he couldn't tell from where, it was as if the odour of all the thralls had created a mixed miasma that was even overpowering his expensive perfume.

Ayel's eyes landed on someone with a fancy coat. A fellow noble? Perhaps she could enlighten him where to find the culprit behind the free food ploy.

"Pardon me milady, but would you be so kind and direct me to whomever is responsible for this waste of resources?" He said, putting on his best smile, he had it practiced and nailed down perfectly after hours upon hours of mirror talks.

The Marquess smile completely died soon after as he saw the persons face and the rest of the body. A large eye slammed right into the middle of her face and a reptilian lower body. It wasn't a milady, it was a malady.

'By Aelios noble grace! A monster!' He thought, his eyes widening in horror, then he looked around for the nearest torch. This monster was sneakily pretending to be a noble, hiding in the midst of the witless vagrants and surely plotting something. Was this the culprit? Ayel felt almost paralyzed by fear. What manner of diseases were this -thing- carrying into the place. There had to be laws against it. Someone had to do something.

The monster appeared to be female. It troubled him further. What if it would spawn more of its kind? Animals and monsters were supposed to be in cages or arenas. Or put down. Why was this thing free?

"You there, what are you doing here, speak up beast but watch your tongue. Did you arrange this gluttonous serf feast?" Ayel asked in a stern voice, he was still nervous. 'This creature shouldn't even exist. Where are the menagerie keeper when you need him? This wicked abomination should burn by the stake.' He mentally told himself.

Then again. The price for snakeskin had gone up. There could be profit to be had.

@PrinceAlexus
Gadez Paladice


To most people being confined to a building for as long as the blizzard lasted would have been a challenge. But for someone like Paladice it was something he was very used to, having been more or less raised within a monastery. He wasn't one to grow bored. There was always something to do, something to ponder upon. Or in this particular case. Someone to talk with. But that may have been quite the understatement as the person in question, Tingara wasn't one who spoke alot. This did however not stop the man from doing it himself, but not encouraging his companion to speak unless she wanted to. The scar upon her neck was a sign enough for him to know that it was likely both painful and difficult, that she was still walking about was good enough on it's own.

She was a priestess, and they were both now in a temple. Two things he absolutely despised, yet despite that… there was something about her which beckoned to him. Something strange. Something foreign. Who in the world was this girl? Which the goddess had sent out to seemingly die in a blizzard? Or had she? What if it had all been an elaborate ploy to slowly draw him into the temple.

Whichever the case. It couldn't be helped. But worst of all... he had enjoyed the stay.

She was a good listener, if abit shy and reserved. But not only that, she was a beauty too. He couldn't help but notice that she seemed to feel embarassed about her scar somehow, as if that mark was all there were to her. The blue eyed man didn't press her for how she received it, she had already been through quite the ordeal with the blizzard and then being locked up in the temple with him of all people. Such would have worn down just about anyone. He knew as much. Still it didn't stop him from occasionally teasing her.

Training about shirtless in the great hall with the brazier, swinging about his swordspear like he usually did every morning. But perhaps he enjoyed causing her to fluster. Or how he was sneaking up next to her as she was arranging the books and blowing some air into her ear. Or intentionally misunderstanding what she would be saying and twisting it to the point she would feel frustrated. He did enjoy these things, especially when someone gave as good reactions to them as she did. But he didn't only tease her, he also told her some stories of what the old monks used to do or the circus performers. Or that one particular blightborn woman and the kissing booth incident which he was not involved with but came to witness. Or the old story about the prince which rose up and fought his father the king? Or the dumb ideas people had on what could be the cause of the blight… there were so many stories to tell if there were listeners.

While he could have asked Tia alot of things, he knew that her answers would be short and she might not be able to do it well.

Their time in the temple had however, with all things considered been a pleasant thing. Even if she had seemed surprised on seeing him join her in the hot spring without a notice. To him such was not a big deal, as the old monastery had that very thing. Albeit without a priestess like her present. She seemed to take it well as she didn't leave the water until after he had. Curious.

He had also noticed how she had stared at his tattoo, whereof he informed her with a hint of mystique in his voice.

"This is known to some as the... tincture. A symbol in alchemy. A mythic thing which was told to be able to turn base things into… gold. Others believe the secret formula would yield the key to immortality. Ofcourse no one knows what the formula is. If it even exists... This is just the symbol which has come to represent their search." He had smiled as he traced his fingers along the shape of the tattoo, as he explained it to Tia.

Their time together had passed by swiftly however, too swiftly for his liking. He still had much he wanted to say and ask her. But there was a time for everything. When the blizzard-free morning finally came, when the blizzard had finally gone away. Paladice had gone up, wearing no shirt as usual, he peeked out the temple door and saw the clear weather.

'It's about time. I was almost spreading roots in here. Well I suppose we are even goddess. I saved your priestess and you provided me with some reprieve. Don't get carried away however.' He scoffed and slammed the temple door shut, he wanted to get his things and get dressed properly. But it wouldn't be right to do so without letting Tia know about the blizzard being over, and bidding his leave. The blonde man went all the way over to her bedchamber.

He stopped for a moment, considering if he should knock. Knowing that Tia was a shy, nervous and likely slightly traumatized. From the blizzard. The monk-warrior decided that this called for abit more of a special approach, he softly opened the door and walked in. Spotting Tia lying in her bed. He slowly walked over with quiet steps, then he leaned down by her bed to look at her face. She was sleeping well by the looks of it, and not snoring. He didn't suspect such a small woman would be able to snore very loud either way. She looked alot less tense and more at peace in her sleep, at least from what he could tell.

He smiled softly, as his eyes wandered over her smooth looking skin and landing on her lips. She was stunning… for a priestess. He had however met four women within Dawnhaven and all four were beauties in their own right. But there was something with this one… He couldn't help but feel something, as if something about the moment in time. Almost as if time itself stood still. What in the world was happening? His eyes wandered about. He wasn't being affected by an illusion, his heartbeat was however growing more loud and he felt a drop of sweat on his forehead. Were someone watching him? Aelios? He felt warmth? As if that would make him kneel! He shook his head softly and then raised his hand, stretching out one of his fingers to poke Tia on her cheek.

"Awaken Tingara. Tiiiin...gaaa...raaa… awaken." He said softly, trying not to startle her as he attempted to wake her up.

"The blizzard is over... come look. My my, if you sleep any longer the bears will wake up before you do..." He said softly, hoping she would wake up. Well at the very least she wouldn't scream at him. Cause she couldn't? Right?

@c3p-0h
Ayel Raunefeldt


He was nervous, he could feel the butterflies in his stomach. If people would know of his secret romance he would be mocked for ages, but as noble as he were he couldn't turn a blind eye to it.

"We cannot do this, it's not safe. Think of the gossip..." Ayel said in a low voice, he was worried.

"It doesn't matter. I want you. I love you. I will not wait. I can't..." The voice came back to him, like the sweetest honeyed voice imaginable. Any lesser man would have faltered in the blink of an eye. His adversary was on par with him, a worthy opponent.

"We need to think this through, if rumors would get out we'd- Is that skin lotion type seven you are using?" Ayel asked as he inspected his beloved's skin, he allowed a faint blush to decorate his face. He was smitten.

"It's the limited edition with western grapefruit scent. Your favorite." The voice came back silky smooth, as if every word was directly licking his noble brain. Before he had known it, he had permitted his beloved to touch his face with the fingers.

He felt all tingly on the inside, in a way he would only feel by drinking the outmost expensive wine, or punishing the poor. It was a truly remarkable feeling, one which he savoured.

"Mmm... I could take a bite out of you, but one bite wouldn't be enough. I want more." Ayel said in a resolute manner, his gaze fixed on the one in front of him.

"Mylord." His beloved said in an urgent voice, Ayel looked down at his noble hand, reaching out to the subject of his love, his gaze looking back up.

"Mylord!" The voice changed and became more loud and crude, almost as if. Ayel's eyes widened in horror as the love of his life, bearing his own face, had warped and taken on the form of Faldrin. His servant. The marquess awoke with a scream and gasped, his hands shaking. Sweat dropping down his forehead. He was in his carriage. He had been graced by a wonderful dream, only for it to be completely ruined. He felt a knot in his stomach as he recalled seeing Faldrin in his beloved's place. He wanted to throw up. But he held back. Throwing up were for less refined people and peasants which couldn't drink moderately.

His nausea was soon replaced with anger as he heard knockings on his carriage door. He cussed and took of the net-like headwear he wore while sleeping to keep his hair orderly. The noble flung the door open, slamming it right into the face of his loyal servant Faldrin.

"What?! I mean... what is it? I was having the most exquisite dream, well... at least until the lacking finale." He said in an annoyed voice, he hoped there was a good reason for his rude awakening.

"Mylord, I have some good and bad news. The good news is that the roof is done, the door and windows too. It was very difficult but we managed despite the weather." Faldrin explained while holding unto his face.

"Excellent. And the bad news? Do not test my limited but vast patience, Faldrin." Ayel added as he stepped out of the carriage.

"Hubert didn't make it." Faldrin said in a saddened voice looking down at the ground.

"Who?" Ayel raised a questioning noble eyebrow.

"Hubert. One of the workers. He got a a severe cold and fever from too much exposure to the blizzard. He died." Faldrin said, taking off his hat to mourn the loss of their travelling companion.

"Oh no. This is awful!" Ayel said in a way which could be seen as a mix of outrage and surprise.

"This is going to make the construction take longer by like seventeen percent! Argh! Why is these minor setbacks always coming my way?!" He grasped the ruffle by his shirt in a fit of frustration, then moved his bothersome hair out of his face.

"Well. I suppose we are going to have to find another Aurelian peasant here to replace the one lost. At least there is some comfort knowing he was not paid in advance. So all in all. I think we may cut even. Now however I am going to have to waste my precious time to make a official notice that we are hiring Aurelian serfs. I will write this myself, as it is crucial to make these workers know that I don't need them but they need my coin." He offered a smile, his mood having improved significantly.

"Where shall we bury our fallen friend? The Aurelian way by fire? Burial in the ground?" Faldrin asked genuinely saddened.

"Who? What friend? Oh the worker? Burial? Oh don't be silly Faldrin. Burials are expensive, and Herbert didn't even finish his work, he has set me back. In fact he owes me. And starting a fire? No no, that would draw too much questions. Commoners should be quiet and not draw attention, even in death." Ayel spoke out in a defensive and slightly agitated manner.

"Hubert." Faldrin corrected then proceeded. "But what about his family? He had a wife and two small children…" It weighed heavily on the aide and he hoped that his employer would have a big enough heart to at the very least send them the coin for the work Hubert did do.

"Yes, yes. But I am thinking of his family. Imagine the costs of moving all the way to Dawnhaven and the dangers on the road, not to mention all the weeping and whining. I think saving them the trip is the most merciful thing to do. And the most cost effective. Now take the fallen worker's body out of Dawnhaven and toss him out to the wild animals. Perhaps the local wildlife will show me more gratitude than he did." The marquess said in a elaborate way as if he was spinning a scheme.

"Mylord Raunefeldt, you who have such a great heart and wealth beyond many peoples imagination. Surely you can spare some for the fallen worker's family?" Faldrin pleaded as he bowed his head.

"Poppycock! I will do no such thing, while my heart is vast and grand, it too has it's limits. I have to prioritize the people of more importance. In fact, I think this Herbert worker knew he was going to kick the bucket and decided to accept the task just so he could swindle me out of my hard earned coin! I wouldn't put it past these coin devouring peasants, he likely died on purpose! They are so vindictive and vile, seeking in their envy to stain my flawless and noble record and heraldry. Generations on generations of purity and magnificence." Ayel caressed his shirt as he attached his rings on each of his fingers.

"Mylord, you speak of them as if they were nothing but animals..." Faldrin said in a concerned tone of voice, he felt unsettled, but he was the loyal servant of the man. His family had served them for generations.

"A most astute observation Faldrin! These thickheaded thralls require a noble hand to guide them, or they will become just like horses which you release into the wilderness, they've go feral and would then dare attack their betters. This is unacceptable ofcourse. So a firm but noble hand is needed. Ah! That reminds me..." The noble went into the carriage to fetch his horsewhip from one of his boxes, it was a something he enjoyed to use to make his point across or point at things he wouldn't dream to touch with his pristine white gloves.

"Mylord... do you not feel anything about all this?" Faldrin asked while he felt discomforted by his employers lack of compassion.

"Ofcourse I feel things. I am not some beast from the north or some blighted monster. Right now I feel for tea and some food. Well? Get to it. Chop chop. And wipe that frown off your face! I command you to put on a smile, I don't want to feel depressed this morning seeing my estate in the making in this current state." Ayel clapped his hands in a manner showing he was pressed for time.
Ayel Raunefeldt


He considered himself an even tempered man, merciful and understanding. But no matter what he had felt the veins on his face beginning to expand and how his face got warmer and warmer, like a volcano about to burst.

How dared that filthy peasant girl talk to him without being given permission to do so! How dared she speak gibberish, or what he assumed was some clearly inferior Lunaris tongue. It had to be. Not only that but she was seemingly drunk, the worst kind of peasant, the ones which likely was awful working away for their betters.

She had then attempted to strike him, he whose done no wrongdoing in his promising life! He was filled with shock at the audacity displayed, and momentarily thought of hitting her with his sword sheathe. But the goddess had gotten equally as insulted by her and made her slip.

Ayel felt a powerful tingle from his belly and spine, he could feel the goddess gracing her most favoured child. Him.

He almost phased out of the scene itself as he thought about it being a sign for greatness to come. That all his hard struggles would yield profit.

The marquess had considered taking the opportunity to kick or grind the underside of his now slightly muddy boots against her face. But he quickly threw the idea out, for she might be even dirtier than the mud, possibly she could even send her filth all over his garments if he got closer.

It wasn't worth the risk. But he still wanted to make an example out of her. Because if one of the little peasants would get away with questioning their betters, then soon more would join it. It filled him with dread. 'Mindless mongrels.' He had thought and then looked at Coswain.

As much as Fiona had annoyed him, it was far less than what the castellan had done.

How could a mere simpleton, a guard, a greybearded stableboy dare say all those crude things to him. It was almost equally as disturbing to the marquess to learn the lady he had called a crone was married.

He frowned as he thought about it. 'Disgusting wrinkly old hagbag.' He gave her a glare then snarled at Coswain.

But before he could berate Coswain for his audacity and refusal to kneel, the prince and princess had decided to grace them.

'My friend! He must have been the one to arrange this crowd to greet me, I suppose a clueless blob of peasants will have to do. The gesture is meaningful, but the execution we need to discuss over tea. Maybe execute that guard while at it. Mmmm..' He thought and listened to the prince, is was after all someone important like himself speaking.

Perhaps the prince had arranged for him not to reach the stage so that he would be treated more like a honoured guest, and the prince was his herald? The very idea made him almost blush, that someone else thought about him almost as much as he did. It filled him with a sense of hope.

That's until the speech began. Ayel felt a surge of disappointment. This wasn't a welcoming, it was a farewell to that filthy barbarian queen of the north.

'Good riddance, that old peasant hugging harlot had it coming!' He softly chuckled as he was glad one of his mortal enemies were out of the picture. Maybe soon they would be able to colonize the barbarian land and educate the inbreds and put them to work.

Ayel felt a sense of pleasure when he thought of profit to be made.

Ayel's face grew shocked on hearing Amaya speak, her words were as foul as foul could be to him.

Beauty in winter? Share food and warmth? The marquess was taken aback as if he had gotten a bucket of ice thrown at him. She surely didn't mean sharing things for free? This was the survival of the richest, not some charity event for survival of the most stupid. He would have none of it!

Then came some words which did make him feel more at ease. There was no grave to send flowers to. Thus he could avoid having to bother to do it, not because he cared the slightest, but because of his friendship with the Aurelian royals.

Once the speeches ended, his eyes settled on Coswain. Ayel had already scoffed at what seemed to be some peasant way of appologizing from Fiona. How dared they oppose him in public! Someone might have seen or heard it!

Coswain however proved again to have the gall to try and command him! Him or all people! The very soaring Marquess of Aurelia, the chosen of the sun goddess. How dared he! Ayel felt how his teeth clenched together, his face grew wrinkly and his eyes narrowed. He tightened his hands into fists.

"Don't tell me what to do or do not do, you ill educated old fool. I am well prepared for anything this region can throw at me, I am not some incompetent barbarian. Resting in an inn, what do you take me for a pauper? Some stinking vagrant? I think not. Now I have more pressing matters to attend to, but I will take disciplinary action on you for this later. That includes all three of you." He pointed angrily and stormed off, using his swordsheath to poke and move people out of the way.

He hurried over towards where the carriages were.

"Faldrin! Where are you?!" He yelled out as his judgemental gaze wandered about. The man came running to him. "Mylord, we have successfully put up the walls, a door and the roof is being constructed at this very moment! We have put the horses into the local stable and the three carriages are lined up properly around the construction site." Faldrin explained.

"I certainly hope you didn't put my horses in with those barbarian breeds? These are pureblooded Aurelian ones. Their family line, much like my own go back generations. It's like a fine line of gold enrichment. So make sure none of those peasants creatures get near them I take it you didn't scratch my carriages? You and the workers will sleep in the newly constructed building as soon as the roof is up, you may bring your belongings in there for now. I will have to have my new home properly cleaned before I settle into it anyhow. I shall be sleeping in the middle-most carriage with all my pillows. You will be allowed to sleep only when it is midnight. I don't want my mansion and emporium to take all winter. Now go and get working. I have a self-biography to write, I will expect breakfast, lunch, teatime, dinner at the usual times. You may feed yourself from the box from the border regions, I don't like food which may be compromised by Lunarian ways. Or lunatic ways as I prefer it. Now good day Faldrin!" He opened and slammed the carriage door shut as the snow began to fall. Finally he had some time alone to do what he liked the best.

Working on himself.

@GambolMuse@PrinceAlexus
Gadez Paladice


A gathering of so many blightborn was bound to draw attention, there would come a time when a haven would become something more.

He had pondered plenty on the source of the blight and what may have caused it, seeing how vastly different each blightborn were it once again made him reconsider the origin of it. There were no mortal powerful enough to unleash this amount of power upon the land, it was simply not possible. There was a limit in how much a body and mind could handle, and eventually people would grow old and die. While he did think plenty of the blight having its origin in nature, perhaps... he were right. But the way he thought about it had been wrong. Perhaps it was about human nature. Their greed and ambition. He knew it all too well.

He drew two new conclusions, both quite similar. Due to there being no known cure, and how the blight seemed to alter people physically. It meant it could be a forbidden kind of magic. The dark arts of necromancy was something which came naturally to mind. To make the dead walk anew.

But at this scale? The blue eyed bastard narrowed his eyes. It had to be a magical device able to contain magical energies and also emit them. Like how ripples would be formed on water after one would toss in a rock. So either there would be an undying ancient magic user of the dark arts, with a mastery over said art to an unfathomable degree. Or it were a collection of outcasts joining together. Much like dawnhaven itself. The oppressed and misunderstood often found comfort in each other. Of the two possibilities he considered the latter seemed the more plausible, but he hoped he was wrong. Because if somehow necromancy was at the root, then what if every blightborn would someday simply lose control of themselves? Becoming nothing but commandable puppets on strings.

A phantom army to conquer the world and make the darkness last far longer. If there were someone out there capable of magically subdue the wills of others... he would do his outmost to destroy that very being utterly by any means possible. Free will was to be protected, without it the world would be truly dead.

People like Kira and Leela, while being blightborn and dead by some peoples estimation still had wills of their own. Paladice didn't mind people to have different opinions nor did he hesitate when people would clash because of their desires. But to take away that which made life into life, the free will to chose ones own path. That's why he couldn't let such defilers to live. The grand board had plenty of dangerous pieces, yet not all the pieces would be what they appear to be.

He closed his eyes momentarily as he thought of the times to come.

'All you have planned will be for naught King Astaros, your son will die and so will you. The truth may be grim, but it doesn't mean it is wrong. Oh Flynn Astaros, do you even know the meaning of your name?

Names are important as we wander in the...

Goddess Paradise. Our world.

The golden star awaits you...'


Paladice listened to the speech from the stage. He already knew plenty of how the scene would play out. But were the prince speaking his own mind, or did he bear a mask? That would have to be further delved into away from the stage. Speaking of such, he couldn't stay for long as he made his way to intercept the royals and their guards on the way.

The wind was blowing from his side, causing his mantle to flicker in the wind as he walked out from behind a couple of trees, standing in the middle of the road ahead of the royals and their guards, leaves falling from the trees, like the very earth was weeping for the loss of the beloved mother.

The guards were at high alert, but even still that wouldn't stop a man such as him from seizing the moment. He spoke out, loud yet almost as if it were a melody. Making sure the entourage would hear him.

"Beautiful maize and ruddy star. A physical form may fade away, yet memories will never die. She'll always be a part of you princess, no matter what. All you need to do is look within. And you Prince Red Star... you are the spitting image of your father. Or rather how he used to look like. A long time ago. My sincerest condolences to you both…" He offered a butlerlike bow and began to move towards the side of the road to make way for the group. His hood and purple cape still flickering in the wind, blue and red combined into one. Like fire and ice. His blonde hair joining the wind, his piercing ghostly blue eyes landed on both the princess and the prince.

"A mother of many a child is most beloved, in the lands of ice and snow, where the land is harsh but the flowers still grow. See to it that you'll bloom magnificently, and save this world from the looming doom. In the twainlight zone." His blonde hair fell over his eyes as he changed his pose, a soft smile on his lips. He remained standing but aside of the pathway to let the entourage pass if they weren't in the talkative mood.

'Quite the family in the making. A pity you could not live to see it to the end. But the real world isn't as kind as the storybooks, not all be there at the end of the tale.' He allowed his mind to fall on the queen which had recently passed away, she truly had been beloved. Very much unlike the two kings who were bent on each others destruction. It was thanks to her that Dawnhaven would even exist. For this he was thankful, a final gift which would see the Aurelian king dead. He picked up a winter flower and then lit it on fire using his magic, then blew the remains to be carried to the wind.

'Rest well mother of the new dawn...'

@The Muse@c3p-0h
Ayel Raunefeldt


"Watch your tone old crone!" Ayel hissed harshly to Persephone, how dared she refer to him as a peacock, even if a peacock was a pretty thing, he was clearly leagues above it.

"So you are indeed a guard. A mere castellan which has no authority outside the castle. Even a royal guard is still a guard."

His eyes narrowed at Coswain.

"Sir? I am the Marquess of Aurelias border region closest to Dawnhaven, I am Marquess Ayel Raunefeldt, son to the late Duke Raunefeldt. My belt buttons up over several other duties far exceeding you, Castellan Coswain. I am the grandmaster of the Aurelius emporium, a famous high quality merchant enterprise. I am also a childhood friend to his royal highness Crown Prince Flynn Astaros. Your brutish ruffians will not touch my carriages, or I'll have you and everyone starve this coming winter. I am in charge of the supplies coming to Dawnhaven from Aurelia. And if you are so concerned with fire, arrest that walking fire hazard over there." Ayel pointed accusingly and in a very irritated way towards Ashe in the distance.

"Or this drunkard serf which has threatened to do physical harm to me! Do your work guard, or do you turn a blind eye? Some guard you are! If your lack of manners were not enough to begin with! Now you greybearded rapscallion, you will get on your knees and profoundingly appologize for your misconduct! Or I swear by Aelios, and his royal highness Crown Prince Astaros, I shall have you publically whipped for your breach of protocol. Kneel and beg for forgiveness and it shall be given, I am a merciful man." Ayel said in a smug, condescending and manner which oozed of superiority. He knew that his wealth and title was making him practically untouchable. Unless someone would outrank him. The very idea made him feel sick. This bearded older man was everything wrong in the world, he was one of those reasons young and perfect rulers would be murdered by a group of angry peasants. But then again, what could he expect from some brutish northern barbarians.

Ayel held out his sheathed sword, using it as a thing to point with.

"On your knees!" He hissed, clearly agitated. "You don't wish to make more of a scene and make things worse for your princess do you? My prince will not allow you to publically upset this arrangement. Not to mention his Royal majesty the king of Aurelia and all the areas which encompass it!" The sadistic marquess pointed to the muddy ground, beckoning for Coswain to kneel before him and appologize.

@GambolMuse@PrinceAlexus
Ayel Raunefeldt


"Everyone calm down, you will all get a chance to look at me once I have gotten the direction to the stage!" Ayel spoke up in a loud tone as he used his sheathed sword to poke and try move people to make a path for him, he couldn't afford having any of these seemingly poor people come in contact with his radiant garments. "Out of the way mushroom. Relegate yourself to the back where peasants ought to be. You might infect those with far nobler blood with your pox. Go on, shoo, get out of the way. I have a speech to make. You there, wench get this abomination out of the way." The aurelian man took up his handmirror, the sheer panic that had filled him being in close proximity to blightborn and people of lower social rank was unnerving. The sooner he could get up on the stage which they surely had erected for him against the awful looking building. At least that was what he regarded it as. How could his coming mansion and emporium be neighbours to it? He felt a lump in his noble belly and throat as he dreaded the awful view that he would see every morning, when Faldrin would pull open the curtains to reveal this blight of a building. No this would absolutely not do.

A complaint would have to be made to the prince. Since his father was a reasonable man, according to Ayel, no doubt would it be a breeze to put in some alterations and extra rules.

Such as having none of those blightborn monstrocities be outside after 8pm. It didn't matter that the sun was temporary concealed, it was more about making a statement, to show all peasants who were in charge.

He soon felt another feeling, one of disgust as he realized the building was seemingly an inn or something like that. He didn't want to listen to loud drunk peasants, they should be like peasants, seen but not heard. But from a safe distance.

But the suggestion list he would make for the prince would have to wait, for now he had to settle the problem of there being alot of people blocking HIS path, to HIS stage.

The marquess allowed himself an eyeroll as he moved his bothersome lock from his face.

"You there, old guard! Come here and pave a way, I do not have all the time in the world you know? I am rich you know." He yelled over towards an older looking man in the distance. That older man being Adonis. He didn't recall the man, but then again... all guardsmen types looked the same, barbaric and brutish. Unlike his very own graceful glamour. But he couldn't help to feel a tinge of pleasure amidst it all, for without people, ugly poor people, they wouldn't be able to see the vast difference between them and himself. How he peaked above them like a mountain overlooking a swamp.

The very comparison made him feel a surge in mood, despite having to wait while standing. How he hated that. He wasn't some lowborn guardsman with nothing better to do than guard a door. His noble body was made for sitting down, preferably on a thronelike seat, and high up to have an elevated view.

Then he felt it. The smell of... farmers. How he hated that smell. It reminded him of them having the audacity to glare at him when he would change the deal so he could earn more by selling their crops, while making sure they would be the eternal workers.

The aurelian man took out a finely brocaded silk napkin and brought it to his nose and mouth, wrinkling his nose and furrowing his eyebrows momentarily. His eyes settling on Fiona, he believed he had found the source of his ills.

It was at that moment he realized he had let these ill-minded people to affect him, he recoiled mentally in horror as he thought that his facial expression may contribute to wrinkles later down his noble life. This he would NOT allow.

@GambolMuse@PrinceAlexus@Qia@Lu
Ayel Raunefeldt


Three carriages were going down the road towards Dawnhaven, their decoration was a stark contrast to the land around them. Packed to the brim with various items and furniture and building materials, the most fine of the carriages were the third one. The carriage much like the other ones was giving ample protection from the weather, at least if you were lucky enough to sit inside of it.

A small hatch opened up in the third and most grand of the carriages.

"Will you please drive more smoothly?! I am trying to concentrate here! Are we there yet?" An upset voice would be heard to the two men sitting at the elevated position at the outside of the carriage, the driver almost completely stopped the carriage at the volume of the voice, the other man next to him quickly leaned down to the hatch.

"My lord! Appologies! The road is very uneven here! We are approaching Dawnhaven in just abit!" The man replied in a reassuring and swift manner, he knew better than to make his employer wait. Knowing the man was someone of special temperament.

"You must take great care of my carriage, it is unlike the peasants irreplacable. There's a limited amount of these. And I happen to own the first and more foremost one. I will not have my carriage to topple over because of some peasant made road." The man inside of the carriage slammed the hatch shut even as the man outside was about to reply.

Ayel as the man was named calmly moved a lock of his hair away from his face. He has such troublesome hair. The man moved the curtains out of the way of the carriage window, sadly realizing that indeed. The sun had not the decency to return just yet. The man rolled his eyes and then lit the lantern inside of the carriage, before taking hold of his handmirror and looking into it. "Such a little bother you are." He said as he moved the lock out of his face and neatly combed it into place. He allowed an arrogant raise of his eyebrow upon seeing Dawnhaven out of his window. This was the place which he was going to make his great return to his rightful place. His father had completely screwed over his chances for dukehood by unceremoniously dying while falling off a horse.

It irked him. His father had taken the liberty to off himself while Ayel had been away from home, and then the title had befallen to someone else. It should have been his! He was the most intelligent, the most qualified, the most rich and flavoursome of all. This was an outrage. The man took a few moments to collect himself, recalling that expressing emotions would contribute to getting wrinkles. He couldn't afford that. Well technically he could, but he simply wouldn't allow his face to be compromised. He was intending on winning the contest of the most graceful Aurelian of the year.

Ayel reached for the small hatch again, yelling out to the two sitting outside.

"Faldrin!" His voice was clear and loud.

"Y-yes! Mylord!" The man straightened in his seat and the driver immediately stopped the carriage in about as much panic as he did in reaction.

Ayel almost got bumped into the expensive wooden decor. "You dimwit! Not that hard!" He yelled out in a reprimanding manner before adjusting himself in his seat and assuming a more smooth tone of voice. "Faldrin, it is truly beautiful." He began to say almost with a lack of breath, pulling his hair behind his one ear.

"It sure is mylord! Dawnhaven is quite the impressive place I must sa-" Faldrin started but got swiftly interupted.

"I am not talking about the mundane tax evasive village! I am talking about myself. Am I not beautiful? Do I not still contain the grace I held in my youth? Am I not shining as much as I did in the Sunfire Citadel?" Ayel said in an offended manner, his one eyebrow rising in an accusing manner. Faldrin knew this as a dangerous thing.

"Erm.. ofcourse mylord. You have not changed at all Marquess Raunefeldt!" Faldrin quickly explained to get the matter out of the way before his employer would have one of his special fits.

"Aha ha ha! Yes! I haven't changed at all have I? I still retain the same aura of majesty and allure. I could kiss myself, but what would all my admirers in the citadel think if I told them about having found true love?" He smiled to his own reflection in the mirror, using his tongue to polish his perfect teeth and making some smacking emotes with his lips, which had been previously given some high quality lotion.

"They would be devastated mylord…" Faldrin said as he felt the sweat starting to slide from his forehead, he had dodged getting another reprimand for now. This was surely a good sign.

"Well, since we have stopped I shall take the opportunity to- Wait is that a crowd out there? Ahh! I knew it! They've already heard of my arrival and have gathered to greet me. For being lousy and somewhat useless, these peasants have some employers who have class. Bring me my hat, the one with the big pink feather and the silk band with the inscription. I want to give them my best impression. Best impression? Faldrin, what is my best truly? I cannot quite decide. When you look at something that is perfect in all it's forms it gets so difficult. You have been trained for generations serving my family, you should be able to tell." The marquess raised his eyebrow of accusation, his eyes scanning Faldrin with judgement through the small hatch.

"You are all encompassing perfection mylord! There is none as whole as you!" Faldrin said and he nervously scratched his cheek.

"Hmph. Don't yell at me. I am not deaf. My hearing is very keen, you must learn to speak in a more soothing tone!" Ayel reprimanded and then looked at the carriage door. "Well? Get to it! My time is precious." He said in a slightly annoyed manner while Faldrin jumped down and hurriedly went to the door, opening it. Ayel looked down at the muddy and snowy road with disapproval, disgust starting to fill his face. "What are you waiting for? Get something for me to walk on! Get the stool." Ayel reached for his fan, which typically was carried with him by his belt, using it to wave his face despite there not being any heat to wave away.

"My.. lord.. the stool. I forgot to load it into the carriage, there wasn't enough space with all of the construction materials." Faldrin said in an appologetic tone and lowered his head and shoulders.

"Not enough space you say? Are you claiming it is somehow my fault Faldrin?" The marquess' face grew colder, his finely made boot placing itself on Faldrin's shoulder, pressing him down as he stood just below the carriage. "No mylord!" Faldrin replied and hunched down abit.

"Don't raise your voice at me! We shall have to improvise. You will take it's place. Now get on all fours." Ayel raised his head and nose towards the dark sky, he took a deep inhale and tried to make himself look as majestic as possible, as if the goddess Aelios herself were descending from the skies to the mortals.

Faldrin complied and stood on all fours in the muddy road as his employer used him as a stepping stone to get down.

"That'll do. Now go and get changed Faldrin, I will not permit any of my servants to be looking like that." He waved dismissively with his hand. "I will be waiting near the brainless blob. While you are at it, order the others to start working at my new temporary home and emporium. I expect it up and functioning today. Perhaps some noble will enlighten me of who is in charge of my welcoming committee or direct me to the prince? Don't worry your little head about me Faldrin, I am more than capable in all fields. Except the actual fields. That is for farmers." He laughed softly with a hand before his mouth.
Gadez Paladice


"Cats gold is what one calls fake gold. At a surface level they may look the same, but upon closer inspection only one shimmers as gold truly would. " Paladice explained calmly and in a matter of fact tone of voice. Taking abit of a breath and allowing himself a soft chuckle before contiuing.

"Not all masks are made of iron nor worn at masquerades. Some are able to don the mask of an honest smiling man, covering their true face beneath. But indeed you may be correct about the prince of gold. He may be genuine indeed." The blonde said, but in a reserved manner, there was alot more to it than that. But he didn't feel the desire to have Leela know that just yet. After all the game had barely begun.

"Dawnhaven however is not a creation of Flynn's making, neither is the union of the both heirs. The forementioned salvation. Two snakes are attempting to constrict this world, sinking their fangs in and applying their poison. I have a prophesy of my own. Here allow me to demonstrate..." The man lowered his voice, walking closer to Leela again, his eyes shimmering as a nearby torchlight reflected in it.

"The golden one shall lop off the head of the fire snake, karma shall burn the sinful creator. For the sake of those whose lives he oppressed and destroyed. Catalyst of the eclipse, let you be eclipsed in turn. Unmade by your rebellious sword." He snickered.

"But who would believe such a prophecy? Especially from one so vexing as myself, as you have so eloquently put it. A handy one aren't you? That bodes well for yourself and this place, my approach may be bold, but reckless it is not. As for having a silver tongue? I would rather boldly claim it is golden. Even if such more commonly be tied to those who prefer silence. Springs as in hot springs hm? Aurelia had plenty of those. Pleasant. Yet like drinks served at the inns, or the wonderous songs of a bard, such things can distance you from your surroundings and keep you from taking action. Think of all the people whose drowned their worries in drinks, and the few which instead decided to do something to change it. Rather than living under an illusion... yet it is a choice one has to make. As for mysteries and challenges, I neither seek them nor do I flee them. I however do deal with them if they happen upon my way. Rest assured you do not bore me, then again... very few actually does." He blew some air out of his mouth, the hot air mixing with the cool of the morning made it go up into mist.

"A sundial in our current situation would be very ironic. Afraid I am not the kind of man to give chase after cats though, I find it more that cats due to their curiousity find it in their liking to follow me. Though they've ought to be careful lest they'll be the ones going into the troth and get drenched." He snickered and observed the inn in the distance. "Ahh, the lack of alcohol will be good for them. Let them see things more clearly. No need for any regrets neither, for had you spent more time in said spring, we would not have met. You would have been far less vexed. But it is about time that I go and mingle with the rest, enjoy your day, Leela the beholder. We shall no doubt meet again." He gave a butlerlike bow towards Sya, there was a shimmer in his eye again and a smirk on his lips. He had enjoyed the conversation, as if he had feasted upon it. He joined her on following her song

"But the gold slipped out of his hand and fled the land! With philosopher desires set into stone, the man realized too late that he was alone. His maiden fled, upon an icy sled. True desire lost, blue fire frost, his desire and greed, to spread his evil seed. Plunged into the nearest gap, to make his trap…. golden prophecy, that defiling plea, he will meet his end at the fire land. The hand of halcyon define time to come, the gilded line will be realigned. The gleaming glee, shall soon be set free…" He sung softly until his voice couldn't be heard by Sya anymore as he walked into the rest of the people gathered, chuckling as he did, with his arms held out slightly as if he was a conductor.

@PrinceAlexus
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