Will be busy for the next few hours but should have a post up later today.
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"Oh so we are doing this after all." Anfel smirked quietly to herself. Trust old Master Marek to open the way to such things.
"Perhaps we might even ask what our would be monarchs plan to do regarding the other peoples that share our borders then?" She asked conversationally, as if they were simply discussing daily matters over tea in the parlour. "Osteria has known her share of isolationists in her time. How would each of you approach the elves and dwarves who ply their livings among us? Or the rulers they answer to their native lands." A matter close to her own heart and that of Enea's economy.
"Perhaps we might even ask what our would be monarchs plan to do regarding the other peoples that share our borders then?" She asked conversationally, as if they were simply discussing daily matters over tea in the parlour. "Osteria has known her share of isolationists in her time. How would each of you approach the elves and dwarves who ply their livings among us? Or the rulers they answer to their native lands." A matter close to her own heart and that of Enea's economy.
I'm intrigued by this! Once the initial mutiny business is out of the way would we be sticking together as a group or would our characters be free to pursue their own agendas? It sounds like once the first chapter is over the RP will take on a more sandbox sort of nature.
The white stag hung limply on its standard, the fine emerald green having been turned the colour of miserable swamp water by the merciless downpour. Anfel had very rarely made trips up to the capital and this latest excursion did not place her in the lightest of moods even without the miserable weather. With the royal family all but scattered to the winds the nation was left leaderless and no doubt each noble representative looked to the others as carrion feeders looking to usurp their way to power through this ritual of choosing. That was certainly the way Anfel's mind was leaning, her thoughts racing with the dire possibilities and conflicts that so often followed power vacuums like this in her history books. Would that she could be back in Stag's Hearth, preparing for the coming storm.
Tythmas looked a truly downtrodden place under these heavy clouds. The crowded streets and rain slick stones gave the city an glistening, almost diseased, appearance. Back in Enea the popular style of architecture was rather more... organic and flowing. The rich lumber yards provided the majority of their building materials, with thatched roofs and the fertile lands springing up wild flowers everywhere they could the towns felt more like an extension of the land itself. Here in Tythmas every living thing felt crammed in against each other, clawing at each other for survival. Perhaps that was just the bumpiness of the carriage talking, putting her in a foul mood.
Though if the journey had been dreadful then the meeting would do little to improve things for her. Anfel greeted each representative politely in kind as they all filed in, bowing her head in deference to Lord Marek as he proceeded with the beginning of the cerimony. And after that... well she waited. In theory it was open to any who cared to put themselves forward as a candidate but Alfen wasn't naive enough to think that even half of those here would willingly elect someone of her heritage.
So the bigger contenders came forward, some of them with a backup troupe bearing snacks, how pleasant! Anfel was half tempted to abstain from voting, already the wind was taking a turn and the risks of putting one's neck out could be very dire to those in her position. Toying with her braid in one hand as it rested over the front of her right shoulder, she weighed and measured them both.
Both houses had name and history behind them to carry their weight. Both had proven themselves competent rulers in differing ways to their duchies. What remained was a matter of character and reputation. There things became more clear cut. Little was known about Conrad with certainty, the man cultivated rumors and half truths around himself like a farmer did crops, he'd never even fought the accusations that had haunted the disappearance of his younger siblings. Hardly a tale that would go over well with the common folk. Then there was the shady past passing talk that had given away his standing on matters of race. Besides not giving Anfel much hope for how she personally would be treated in the court it could well threaten the foreign trade her family had worked so hard to secure and the allies they might bring to the kingdom. Part of her could only assume given how little of the Summit's lord was shown that all these praises the others gave him had been bought through ties of fealty or iron.
Then there was Gerantius. Half the realm relied on his lands to help provide them with food and in times of hardship pilgrims had flocked to Marethia for safety both physical and spiritual. In the past he'd proven himself a cunning man and one with a known sense of justice, something that almost always went over well with the citizenry. And even in his current age the man's well kept features wouldn't look bad stamped on a freshly minted coin. This one might be counted on to see the world beyond Osteria's borders rather than locking himself away in his keeps.
Of course the votes were not going his way... and silence might be safer.
"My lords." Anfel began, voice gentle as a summer breeze. "Like others here I have no designs on the throne myself. Only to see the best done for the kingdom and it's people. There is no doubt in my mind that both of these fine candidates are capable of ruling fair Osteria and guiding her to a peaceful and prosperous future." Her eyes scanned the room as she spoke, flitting from one face another of those sat at the table and the expressions or masks they wore. She found it unsettling that such weighty decisions have been made so quickly, no one had even asked a question of the candidates, of what their policies on trade or on dealing with the Blackmouth threat might be. Desperatly Anfel thought to call a pause to it, as if to demand those that stepped forward might explain themselves in more detail. Yet it seemed lines were already been drawn and a cadre already forming. Each lord was well known and each expected their past deeds and reputation to speak for them. Such was the way of the aristocracy.
"And my own conscience bids me to cast my support in favour of Duke Aldwyn Gerantius. Yet whatever the result it is my greatest hope that no bad blood be formed from this choosing. We have each come here with the same purpose and one far greater than ourselves at that as servants of our people." Even if this were to fail, at least Anfel could hold her head high in standing by what she thought was right.
Tythmas looked a truly downtrodden place under these heavy clouds. The crowded streets and rain slick stones gave the city an glistening, almost diseased, appearance. Back in Enea the popular style of architecture was rather more... organic and flowing. The rich lumber yards provided the majority of their building materials, with thatched roofs and the fertile lands springing up wild flowers everywhere they could the towns felt more like an extension of the land itself. Here in Tythmas every living thing felt crammed in against each other, clawing at each other for survival. Perhaps that was just the bumpiness of the carriage talking, putting her in a foul mood.
Though if the journey had been dreadful then the meeting would do little to improve things for her. Anfel greeted each representative politely in kind as they all filed in, bowing her head in deference to Lord Marek as he proceeded with the beginning of the cerimony. And after that... well she waited. In theory it was open to any who cared to put themselves forward as a candidate but Alfen wasn't naive enough to think that even half of those here would willingly elect someone of her heritage.
So the bigger contenders came forward, some of them with a backup troupe bearing snacks, how pleasant! Anfel was half tempted to abstain from voting, already the wind was taking a turn and the risks of putting one's neck out could be very dire to those in her position. Toying with her braid in one hand as it rested over the front of her right shoulder, she weighed and measured them both.
Both houses had name and history behind them to carry their weight. Both had proven themselves competent rulers in differing ways to their duchies. What remained was a matter of character and reputation. There things became more clear cut. Little was known about Conrad with certainty, the man cultivated rumors and half truths around himself like a farmer did crops, he'd never even fought the accusations that had haunted the disappearance of his younger siblings. Hardly a tale that would go over well with the common folk. Then there was the shady past passing talk that had given away his standing on matters of race. Besides not giving Anfel much hope for how she personally would be treated in the court it could well threaten the foreign trade her family had worked so hard to secure and the allies they might bring to the kingdom. Part of her could only assume given how little of the Summit's lord was shown that all these praises the others gave him had been bought through ties of fealty or iron.
Then there was Gerantius. Half the realm relied on his lands to help provide them with food and in times of hardship pilgrims had flocked to Marethia for safety both physical and spiritual. In the past he'd proven himself a cunning man and one with a known sense of justice, something that almost always went over well with the citizenry. And even in his current age the man's well kept features wouldn't look bad stamped on a freshly minted coin. This one might be counted on to see the world beyond Osteria's borders rather than locking himself away in his keeps.
Of course the votes were not going his way... and silence might be safer.
"My lords." Anfel began, voice gentle as a summer breeze. "Like others here I have no designs on the throne myself. Only to see the best done for the kingdom and it's people. There is no doubt in my mind that both of these fine candidates are capable of ruling fair Osteria and guiding her to a peaceful and prosperous future." Her eyes scanned the room as she spoke, flitting from one face another of those sat at the table and the expressions or masks they wore. She found it unsettling that such weighty decisions have been made so quickly, no one had even asked a question of the candidates, of what their policies on trade or on dealing with the Blackmouth threat might be. Desperatly Anfel thought to call a pause to it, as if to demand those that stepped forward might explain themselves in more detail. Yet it seemed lines were already been drawn and a cadre already forming. Each lord was well known and each expected their past deeds and reputation to speak for them. Such was the way of the aristocracy.
"And my own conscience bids me to cast my support in favour of Duke Aldwyn Gerantius. Yet whatever the result it is my greatest hope that no bad blood be formed from this choosing. We have each come here with the same purpose and one far greater than ourselves at that as servants of our people." Even if this were to fail, at least Anfel could hold her head high in standing by what she thought was right.
You might want to give it a little longer. The thread's only been up for one day and a Sunday is bound to be quiet.
Well it's already kicking off. I've got to head out but I'll get an intro post up tomorrow.
@ClocktowerEchosSame name as I am here.
EDIT: Just realised i'm not on proper discord I don't think. I followed the link Zell put up here.
EDIT: Just realised i'm not on proper discord I don't think. I followed the link Zell put up here.
@LordZellI'm discording super hard right now!
Intrigued by the mechanics though I don't know anything about the history it's based on.
Name of Lord/Lady Duchess Anfel Allard
Physical Description:As a half-elf Anfel has the slight build and pointed features of her mother's side, though softened by her human blood. Her pale auburn hair reaches past her shoulders though is usually tied into thick braids for sake of ease. A smattering of freckles goes across the bridge of her nose and her shoulders. It is agreed between both the common folk and the nobility that the lady of Enea has a most lyrical voice and her slender hands are skilled with both a lyre and a mandolin, though given her station she very rarely puts on any kind of performance except perhaps when hosting a party where such things would be appropriate. There she can show off her knowledge of poetry and legends, indeed Anfel's library back in Stag's Hearth is quite famous, having aquired many texts from passing merchants from Osteria and beyond.
Her eyes are an exceedingly dark blue and she is often seen wearing garments in her family colours, favouring jade greens and silver jewelry. Anfels outfits are often practical in nature, in her daily life she prefers loose fitting trousers and doublets, claiming to always want to be ready for whatever the rugged lands of her duchy may require (Of course these garmants are still clearly of fine make and design). While for more formal affairs such as dealing with other nobles and ceremonies she summons forth her gowns and dresses, a situation she relishes.
Claimed Fief: 4. Enea
A heavily wooden province in Eastern Osteria, they have long mingled with the Elves of the Cilhedon Principality. The logging industry there is among the greatest in the world and it's suitable farming is respected. It is the second largest province in the Kingdom.
STATS: 1,200,000 Citizens | 11,000 Men-at-Arms, 2,000 Cavalry, 1,000 Knights | Produces 11 Grain/12 Gold/2 Iron | Basic Roads | 0 Fortress | Requires 12 Grain/Season. | 0 Unrest
Basic History: House Allard have had a long and respected history in Osteria. Although not the origional lords of Enea they were loyal vassals to the first Dukes and have a bloodline that can trace itself back to the dawn of the Kingdom. Their ascension to this higher rank did not come through some bloody rebellion or dark plots, simply the winds of fate and birth. The old Duke Cawdor did not leave and heir to carry on his line and his last remaining relative was a niece married to the current lord Osren Allard (fifth of his name) and so the passing of the torch came. Of course that was nearly a century ago, to those living now the Allards have always been associated with Enea, their home town of Stag's Hearth with its roots growing deep throughout the province.
The new arms of Enea are a white stag, laying calmly on a green field, shown with a crown of ivory coloured flowers adorning its antlers. The Allards were never considered one of the grandest houses. Noble, yes. Respected in their way but humble as well. Their lands lacked the great farmlands of Marethia or the industrious mines of The Summit. Yet they worked the woods to their will, hunting, farming and growing strong. No one went hungry and thanks to their roads sending timber to all the realm few fell into poverty. The Allards were considered a handy ally to have but a house easily forgotten compared to others.
That was until their last house patriarch, Osrick, married himself a damn elf! It was always considered a duty of the house to keep the peace with the wood elves of Cilhedon. Osteria could ill afford being sandwiched between the orcish hordes and the elves of the east. No one ever expected a noble to marry one though! That was something the woodsmen in the border hamlets did. So the seat of the east fell to a half-elf, something the common folk are still getting used to.
Background: Diplomat (Bonus to Diplomacy Rolls)
As a lady of high birth Anfel has been taught manners and etiquette from a young age for both human and elven courts. Given the prickly response her heritage tends to bring out in others she had to learn quickly how to navigate her way out of hostile situations. Better to try making a friend before creating an enemy.
Of course she isn't the only one of her house who has a way with words. Given their mysterious foreign neighbors and the number of trade routes going through their lands the Allards have made sure to keep competent liaisons within the merchant guilds and a small cadre of professional envoys and diplomats on hand.
Physical Description:As a half-elf Anfel has the slight build and pointed features of her mother's side, though softened by her human blood. Her pale auburn hair reaches past her shoulders though is usually tied into thick braids for sake of ease. A smattering of freckles goes across the bridge of her nose and her shoulders. It is agreed between both the common folk and the nobility that the lady of Enea has a most lyrical voice and her slender hands are skilled with both a lyre and a mandolin, though given her station she very rarely puts on any kind of performance except perhaps when hosting a party where such things would be appropriate. There she can show off her knowledge of poetry and legends, indeed Anfel's library back in Stag's Hearth is quite famous, having aquired many texts from passing merchants from Osteria and beyond.
Her eyes are an exceedingly dark blue and she is often seen wearing garments in her family colours, favouring jade greens and silver jewelry. Anfels outfits are often practical in nature, in her daily life she prefers loose fitting trousers and doublets, claiming to always want to be ready for whatever the rugged lands of her duchy may require (Of course these garmants are still clearly of fine make and design). While for more formal affairs such as dealing with other nobles and ceremonies she summons forth her gowns and dresses, a situation she relishes.
Claimed Fief: 4. Enea
A heavily wooden province in Eastern Osteria, they have long mingled with the Elves of the Cilhedon Principality. The logging industry there is among the greatest in the world and it's suitable farming is respected. It is the second largest province in the Kingdom.
STATS: 1,200,000 Citizens | 11,000 Men-at-Arms, 2,000 Cavalry, 1,000 Knights | Produces 11 Grain/12 Gold/2 Iron | Basic Roads | 0 Fortress | Requires 12 Grain/Season. | 0 Unrest
Basic History: House Allard have had a long and respected history in Osteria. Although not the origional lords of Enea they were loyal vassals to the first Dukes and have a bloodline that can trace itself back to the dawn of the Kingdom. Their ascension to this higher rank did not come through some bloody rebellion or dark plots, simply the winds of fate and birth. The old Duke Cawdor did not leave and heir to carry on his line and his last remaining relative was a niece married to the current lord Osren Allard (fifth of his name) and so the passing of the torch came. Of course that was nearly a century ago, to those living now the Allards have always been associated with Enea, their home town of Stag's Hearth with its roots growing deep throughout the province.
The new arms of Enea are a white stag, laying calmly on a green field, shown with a crown of ivory coloured flowers adorning its antlers. The Allards were never considered one of the grandest houses. Noble, yes. Respected in their way but humble as well. Their lands lacked the great farmlands of Marethia or the industrious mines of The Summit. Yet they worked the woods to their will, hunting, farming and growing strong. No one went hungry and thanks to their roads sending timber to all the realm few fell into poverty. The Allards were considered a handy ally to have but a house easily forgotten compared to others.
That was until their last house patriarch, Osrick, married himself a damn elf! It was always considered a duty of the house to keep the peace with the wood elves of Cilhedon. Osteria could ill afford being sandwiched between the orcish hordes and the elves of the east. No one ever expected a noble to marry one though! That was something the woodsmen in the border hamlets did. So the seat of the east fell to a half-elf, something the common folk are still getting used to.
Background: Diplomat (Bonus to Diplomacy Rolls)
As a lady of high birth Anfel has been taught manners and etiquette from a young age for both human and elven courts. Given the prickly response her heritage tends to bring out in others she had to learn quickly how to navigate her way out of hostile situations. Better to try making a friend before creating an enemy.
Of course she isn't the only one of her house who has a way with words. Given their mysterious foreign neighbors and the number of trade routes going through their lands the Allards have made sure to keep competent liaisons within the merchant guilds and a small cadre of professional envoys and diplomats on hand.
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