GourmetItalia

𝒜𝑙𝘵𝒶𝑒𝒶: 𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒜𝑔𝑒 𝓸𝘧 ℛ𝑒𝒱𝓸𝑙𝓊𝓉𝒾𝓸𝓃

Welp! It looks like Titanpad and Skype are winners so let's go ahead and exchange/create (if you haven't already) Skype names for future collaborations and brain storming. This way, we can communicate and exchange ideas while also having a medium for more accessible idea storage! When we're fully setup, we can start forwarding our notes and have instant chat discussions. So far, Titanpad's worked very well, collaboration wise and we have Peik and Fern to thank for the mentions! Really looking forward to adding you all on Skype and using Titanpad to continue what we know as posting and storytelling 8)

𝒜𝑙𝘵𝒶𝑒𝒶: 𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒜𝑔𝑒 𝓸𝘧 ℛ𝑒𝒱𝓸𝑙𝓊𝓉𝒾𝓸𝓃

Well, it's certainly good that some of you are still around. Keeping busy with Minecraft, Readings, Side-projects or Games really does setup a huge time-sync as do documentaries and TV Series. I think that keeping a modest base for informational references helps as far as inspiration's concerned. Personally, I've been gaming here and there, but I've put my focus on TV series set in the Renaissance like The Virgin Queen, The Musketeers, and the Borgias. Films wise, Anonymous is an intriguing film as is the documentary, "The Medici - Godfathers of the Renaissance". Highly recommended for re-envisioning a cinematic feel of the Renaissance, its subsequent surroundings, and noticeable environments. There are too many readings and films to go about these days and opportunities for creative outlets so it's a small wonder that we all haven't already set our keyboards ablaze with story material. Do any of you want to form a Skype group or utilize Titanpad for Plot and Brainstorming Purposes? This way, we can have another means for communing to share ideas.

𝒜𝑙𝘵𝒶𝑒𝒶: 𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒜𝑔𝑒 𝓸𝘧 ℛ𝑒𝒱𝓸𝑙𝓊𝓉𝒾𝓸𝓃

I would not expect anything less from a man of Korkud's stature. On a side note, how is everyone? It's been a little while and I figured we'd start January off with a bang. If anyone's still checking the OOC, what are you peeps up to and how's your New Years and January been? I know the question's a little late given that it's almost February, but I figured it'd be good to at least check in to see how everyone's doing as of lately.

𝒜𝑙𝘵𝒶𝑒𝒶: 𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒜𝑔𝑒 𝓸𝘧 ℛ𝑒𝒱𝓸𝑙𝓊𝓉𝒾𝓸𝓃

Couer Warehouse

---

Ona's captivity was shameful to her but there was little she could do to change the past. Her ability was never something she was ashamed of but she was intimidated by Dae and indebted to Lucius and had thought her ability might have helped. Now she realized that the idea was almost frightening as it seemed.

For a moment, Lucius began to laugh as an understanding filled his senses. The ace now residing amongst their company would almost certainly bode ill for those wishing their assembly harm and under both Ona's watchful eyes and Dae's devious training, the resistance at least stood a prayer's chance. On the contrary, there were wolves and dangers residing within Conqvist's possession that threatened to shatter their very existence. The risks that lay before spoke of hardships beyond comprehension and Lucius had seen first hand what those in authoritative seats could accomplish should they have wished to completely and utterly wreck their foes. As the seconds passed into minutes, Lucius' laughter slowed before silence once again engulfed the cellar grounds.

Onatha was unsure what to believe amidst Lucius' laughter. She feared that he had mocked her and vowed to avert any mention of her abilities. She owed him much for it was Lucius who had awoken and rescued her. Dae simply made her nervous and provoked a considerable reason for unease. In retrospect, it did not at all seem ludicrous to note that Ona was in a percarious spot and she understood the reality that though she was indeed conscious it was due to Lucius' hand. Deep down in her heart, she felt that perhaps she did not truly deserve to remain in her awakened state.

Ever the calculating young man, the Prince's expression hardened as his mind raced through the realizations regarding just how mortal Voltas had become. Amongst the thousands of possible disasters looming from above; the dangers associated towards Ona's own life became all too jarring as fears of her capture and enslavement flooded his mind. Furthermore, the one reality more dangerous than any Sarifen division roaming from within Valania proper revolved around Conqvist's own seer. He had never exactly encountered any individual possessing super natural abilities, however, their existence had suddenly unveiled a much more bizarre aspect to the known world. As Ona glanced towards her adjacent companion, the elderly Michel only glanced once towards the tribal seer before offering a genuine smile, however, his expression spoke of both weariness and acceptance towards the realities affecting Valania Proper.

"Ona," he quickly began, "However well Dae and I may fling bombs, daggers, javelins, and shot towards our enemies; we cannot gaurantee your safety."

His eyes stared firmly as he placed a warm hand along the girl's shivering fingers and following a moment, a determinated and honest expression spilled across his face.

"On the contray," Lucius continued, "We would never enslave you in the vile manner you claim Girrant Orkiv's wardens managed to have conducted."

Onatha looked down at the table. "I know you would not enslave me. I worry more now that I have made you uncomfortable with me..."

The Prince unholstered a loaded pistol and carefully placed the firearm along the table before sliding the weapon, butt first in Ona's direction. Shot and powder followed suit as well as a gleaming dagger stolen from their earlier encounters against the Sarifen Sipahis. Alongside and separate from the newly placed weaponry, Lucius firmly set aside a gold ring, a handful of brass coins, and provisions before neatly arranging the materials. A test of wits and courage proved the next step, however, given the circumstances, fate had inevitably dealt a cruel hand towards the inhabitants' destinies. There were no second chances and once their hands were dealt, there would be no chance for mercy or amnesty.

Ona's position remained tenable and her background fell outside the conflicts concerning Carcassonne's woes and struggles. Her abilities and worth stood far more valuable than she realized, however, Ona's own freedom proved a deciding factor and however much Lucius pried or wished, he could not force the girl into their formidable struggles. Presently, only the gods could now alter their fates.

"The pistol is loaded and given the proper handling you will find its applications final and exacting towards those wishing you harm; however, provisions and wealth are also in your reach. The choice is yours, Ona, if you wish to walk away. You are free to depart our company, however, should you find yourself in harm's way Dae, myself, and Michel may not necessarily appear to offer urgent protection. On the contrary ... should you choose to stand by to aid our cause until the bitter end, consider yourself a part of the renewed Valanian resistance ..."

Onatha glanced upwards and then around towards her companions. She looked down at the table and bit her lip.

"I-I do not want your weapon Lucius," she stammered, "I do not want to walk away. I do not know this place. I just-"

He offered her a choice; a priviledge that she had not enjoyed in a very very long time. Onatha was a little unsure how to approach it. She certainly did not wish to seem too eager lest Dae and the others think her silly.

"If you think me useful I wish to stay." The green, unbroken pools of her eyes focused upon Lucius. "I wish to help as you helped me."

"Then we are happy you joined our company; Ona, and ... however much danger you, Dae, and I may encounter, we are not Emperor Aryanpour nor Sarife's scheming patricians." Lucius' determinable gaze narrowed upon the girl's green pupil-less eyes to match her own. "Of course, you must not mention your gifts to anyone under any circumstances."

"I will not say anything." Onatha looked at her hands once more. She was uncertain if Dae accepted Lucius' beliefs but she was certainly glad that he had still valued her company. She had only begun to understand just how rare and perhaps distressing her ability truly was.

Lucius himself treaded along thin ice, however, it was upon discerning Ona's answer that relief filled his senses. His hands quickly cleared the table as he moved to retrieve and return his weapons and munitions before his attentions strayed towards the ceilings where loud steps and audible commotion filled the cellar walls. The previous evening's massacre and horrors still lingered and the realities concerning the populace only served to further worry the Prince and his resolve.

"Are you certain you wish to refrain against carrying a firearm?" he inquired, "I simply cannot coat the realities or dangers surrounding our location, Ona. The commoner streets have grown increasingly mortal and I fear they shall only grow worse given the lack of food. Yesterday evening, you were there as we escaped the dockyards and as you yourself witnessed; brother and sister Valanians alike did not refrain against any hesitations to gut each other to seize meager food scraps. These are perilous times we live in, Ona, and the common folk won't hesitate to strip each other bare lest they butcher each other to serve their own mouths."

Onatha helplessly raised her arms in protest before answering, "I do not know how to fire that Lucius. Safer for me to use a sword or dagger. Perhaps someone can teach me to use it when it is not a trouble to anyone."

Nodding, Lucius sported his arm as pain flared in a most irritable fashion. The candles flickered and danced along the cellar walls amidst a nearby pit's crackling fires. His eyes betrayed a mask of a hardened warrior beyond his youthful and slightly boyish features. Vectisian Legionaries and Voltasian Kataphraktoi could have discerned the discipline drilled into their kind, however Ona's seasoning had only just begun.

"When we've more adequate time ... perhaps Dae and I will acquire more ample instruction opportunities. The scoundrels and soldiers prowling Voltas are numerous and shall show no mercy should they feel you pose any sort of threat."

Lucius's expression turned curious as his eyes met Dae before he managed to clear the tables. The immensely dangerous burdens involving screening the Lord Sovereign's where abouts as well as his surrounding aristocrat retinue had just become a reality. There was much to set into motion as his military minded background surfaced to father proper and cohesive strategies involving information gathering and tracking. To his knowledge, he'd heard only fables and tales regarding the super natural, however, logic and intellectual pursuits had adequately dismissed such notions as superstitious nonsense told to frighten young children into obedience. The world had suddenly turned several shades stranger and in the coming weeks, fate would decide how many more oddities would unveil before his eyes.

"Presently, time is short, given we've a dinner party to attend and if you truly wish to aid our cause, would you care to accompany Dae and I as we scout D'Aubigne's estate? Your abilities would uncover possible escape routes, alleyways, and corridors surrounding D'Aubigne's manor grounds."

Dae had listened silently as the two spoke whilst her only importance stemmed in the form of occasional smirks, raised eyebrows or other typical facial expressions she naturally wore. To Lucius' disbelief, the assassin seemed surprisingly unfazed by the new knowledge of Ona's supernatural gift, despite the notion that she had never exactly encountered the supernatural. Nevertheless, Dae had reached a point within her own life where she refused to allow anything to completely shock her. Her first encounters had nearly taken her life and follow those ordeals; a blade across the neck salted in Ivalian poisons had usurped all other forms of predictions. Instead she watched, eyes calculating and darting between her companions. The girl would certainly have her uses... And of course ... if she could not see this other seer that also proved the same in that Conqvist's seer could not see her. This would certainly factor into their favor if Conqvist had no way of seeing or know the core of this new rebellion.

"Three is a good number, in case we are delayed or thwarted," Dae added, in a neutral tone. She did not often mention or cherish either of the two remaining words given that the two were largely unacceptable and punishable to her Ivalian associates. What further complicated matters involved the irritable reality that she still did not trust Ona, more saw her use to their cause for the moment and would follow what Lucius wanted to do. Escaping one mortal encounter within the last seven or so hours had already soured her mood and she was not about to willingly risk herself a second time.

"Considering our current state," she continued before turning to address the Prince, "Though the two of us have suffered much worse and still survived to fight again." She gave a delicate shrug. "I am still currently better than many even as I carry the burdens of my injuries. Though a third able bodied person will aid in the general scouting." Her gaze moved back to Ona. "And, of course, when we have time we will teach you how to use a firearm." She was curious to gauge Ona's sword and dagger skills, though prolongued training proved an under-statement. If any of these assets could aid their cause and eventually bring about the Sarifens and that puppet Conqvist's undoing, Dae was quite happy to assist.

"The three of you; I wish you good luck," the elderly Michel voice as he rose, "I am sorry I cannot offer non-financial related guidance; however, I only understand negotiations and bartering involving Ivalian clients and they are as numerous as their distant colony states. If you are to dabble amongst the nobility, your minglings will require a certain delicacy and finesse only the most able minded may accomplish. Crossing any man within the Lord Sovereign's favor will almost certainly bring assured death; of course you always seem to find a way, Lucius, and even during the dire affairs, you and Dae seem to survive even the most mortal encounters. No matter what happens, you three are always welcome here."

Onatha nodded towards Dae, a small gesture of thanks for her offer to teach her to use a firearm. In Onatha's time there was no such thing and she was still getting used to the idea that such weapons existed but she reminded herself she needed to adapt and become familiar to this time. The times had now changed and however strange or objectionable she may have initially lfelt, she had come to realise that she was forced to accept her place within this age even if she was still a stranger. Distressing as it seemed, there would be no return to the places she knew.

"I will accompany you," Ona answered, "I wish to help in anyway I can."

She felt as if she were not really apart of them but she was used to that. Even in the library she was a tool to be used, not a person. At least now Lucius treated her kindly and for that she appreciated more than he could ever know. Even Dae, despite not knowing her was cordial to her; such politeness would not go unnoticed.

Once more Onatha became stock still and stared off into a distance only she could see. Her eyes flickered in the candlelight.

“Stone. There are walls around the home. A centre dome meets you when you enter.” She inhaled slowly. “Stairs leading up, bedrooms. A grand library and dining hall are on the main floor. There are servants but not so many you could not avoid them. A kitchen, great wood stove sits there and leaves them all warm.”

Her head tilted a little as if she had quizzically discerned a notable sight. “Wine. It flows here but more importantly are the cellars below.”

She pulled her attention away from the distant view and looked to her companions. “There are a few servants entrance, a stable and small coach house on the grounds. They are a decent size with grapevines and a well tended garden. What else would you like to know? I can tell you what tapestries hang where or which windows are currently opened to the night air.”

"The Ecuyer D'Aubigne and his servants," Lucius quickly shot, "Have you sighted anything out of the ordinary?"

"All seemed in the ordinary but since I do not know what their ordinary is I will have to look again in the morning to tell you of any changes." Onatha's eyes sunk before she apologetically glanced in his direction.

The Prince's face lost any notable expression before he answered. "I'm unsure if the morning will present any other superior opportunities given that the dinner invitation is set this evening. We must act accordingly or we may lose an opportunity we cannot afford."

"Then I cannot speak as to whether or not it is out of the ordinary. It does not seem unusual for a manor of that size but I do not know what happens there normally. I am really truly sorry, Lucius."

Sighing, Lucius nodded firmly before pacing across the cellar floors. After a time, the Prince frowned before beginning again, "If you must; it may prove more sufficient to discern where it is D'Aubigne treasures his escape routes ... or better yet, where it is his servants and informants hide to gather information. There is much Dae and I don't know and though I'm certain the resistance may know their ones and twos, their trustworthy qualities are at best treacherous. It has been over six months past since the day I left Voltas and therefore completely oblivious to the happenings at court. We must carefully plot D'Aubigne's estate before we are to proceed. I am uncertain if I feel ready to lose my life through a blind entry."

"Plot it out for you is something I can do. If you have parchement and a pen I can dictate the layout or even attempt to draw it out." Onatha offered. Giving them the layout of the villa and grounds was easier than knowing if the people were acting out of the ordinary.

A wicked smiled spread across Lucius's face as he directed his gaze towards Dae and for a moment, an understanding struck a notable chord within the enclosed, dockyard cellar. Even the elderly Coeur's frail face exuded confidence as the three set about gathering whatever objects their blonde seer required to fully prepare the manor blueprints. To Lucius it had become evident that they would face an age old reality involving insurmountable odds, facing largely unfavorable circumstances. They were only a handful, however, during this age, a worthy handful trumped any ace hidden beneath the most serpeantine of aristocratic, puppet-masters ...

---

Voltas Dockyards

---

The Voltasian dockyards appeared an unsightly location that housed seedy and questionable establishments few entered without leading double lives. The filthy streets certainly wreaked of fish, salt, urine, and abominable stenches few could tolerate and to find feces and waste lining the streets was not an uncommon sight. The squalid lack of care could not have proven more wretched to illustrate the deteriorating slum conditions to line the streets. Once beautiful and historically prominent avenues had overtime become criminal hovels for thieves and beggars and the poor lining the street corners. Talks of smashing certain districts under Conqvist's mandate occasionally happened to make way for better accomodations regarding new garrison outposts, market squares, Yadin-Hamon shrines, Inquisitorial boroughs, Sarifen dominated brothels, and strategically placed Crown Watch barracks.

Every night proved as miserable as it was a struggle for survival. The prosperity and generosity felt under King Lothair became distant memories, replaced by Conqvist's authority and governance. Coin alone could not make a living as much as the right connections and favor within distant Ivalian courts. The prevalent dirt, grime, and blatant architectural disrepair amidst the finely crafted, towering marble palaces, temples, and ornate houses lining the sections beyond the commoner districts did much to illustrate the nearly two decades' disrepair.

Only the dockyards and the various military barracks scattered through Voltas remained in any sort of acceptable condition. The remaining, aristocratically owned structures had since seen constant rennovations to fill the merchants districts as well as the noble's quarters. The landmarks could not have seemed more trivial or as much a blemish to Abdullah and Ashour. One required a means to earn a living and the generous payments delivered to his pouches did much to earn his steady employment. The rest could burn for all he cared, however, if the Sovereign's gold lined his pockets, he would deliver. Gold was gold and under the Regency, who could reject the Sovereign's favor? Who else could allow talent to rot in the gutters? Clearly the Lord Sovereign's practically extended towards the bold and clever footed scoundrels.

This afternoon, the proper precautions and critical instructions had forced the two to linger across the streets and amongst the filth and trash. Weeks old droppings, bones, vomit, and various unwanted rubbish lay all along the surrounding streets as they hid in the shadows beneath a pile of hay to observe the new arrivals. Not long after they spotted the leader disappear within the room, did Abdullah issue quiet whistle.

Through the rugged man's rugged features and his accompanying retinue's heavy armaments, Abdullah knew he'd found his man. He'd since opted for stealth and patience against outright brute force and during this moment, he'd since not exposed himself nor Ashour. It was time and place to properly strike and Abdullah found no other perfect opportunity. The adrenaline coursing through his veins threatened to expose the glee that engulfed his mind and provoked his motions through his hay section.

Within short order and success in alerting Ashour's attention, Abdullah had carefully maneuvered himself through the horse stables before straddling through the necessary methods to the procure the beasts. A quick glance towards the doors had illustrated exactly what the Sovereign's instructions had dictated and not one to question orders, sunk to the shadows as a passing Garrison patrol stalked past the interior window slots.

Some details were best left unexplained and Abdullah was one to acknowledge his role as the deliverer within a wider and more sinisterly machined scheme. The intelligence had thus proven highly effective and proven how dangerous the Lord Sovereign's authority could dispense certain interests within his very grasp. Alongside Ashour, the thief hadn't believed his fate should rest outside the Sovereign's graces and that the ruler's favor was a very very decisive hand to keep regarding his fortunes and survival. There would be nothing he couldn't accomplish properly without choosing sides. Abdullah was practical and once the deed was done, he would enter the closest bath, find a nice woman to bed while drowning himself in fermented sherberts of the highest alcoholic strength. Even as he withstood the stench of the horse droppings, nearby human decay, and filth lined streets, his mind carefully counted the minutes as Conqvist's instructions had dictated.

Then ... the final moment arrived as Ashour's powdered charges detonated against the stable walls. The shrieks escaping the mounts provoked a commotion throughout the holding cells and offered the necessary distractions to scale the beasts. Without wasting another moment, Abdullah's motions quickly illustrated his role as he rapidly rolled under a miniature slit hole along the lower wall section before seizing a rope leading towards the rooftops. Moments later, a cloth canvas descended as the roof's suddenly lit to bath each of the street's surrounding windows in a brilliant, blinding brightness. Many upper floor tenants peered outwards only to find their sights blinded through the stable's, mirror laden roof. Few failed to notice two mounted thieves as they raced through the filthy streets and away from sight ...

---

Nezam Stronghold - Merchant's Quarter

---

"For that which is the people's defense, and the land ..."

This was the Nezam official statute and each warrior upheld a strict oath of loyalty, dedication, and unwavering defense in Sarife's name, answering only to the Emperor and his family. Their roots had been handed from generations and their professionalism was unrivalled throughout Carcassonne as potent, skillful, educated, and highly disciplined soldiers. Long ago, after Sarife had regained its independence, emplaced laws had ensured that Nezam traditions and reforms were both preserved and upheld to avert decline in prowess and nepotism amongst the ranks and selection institutions.

The previous night's events had inevitable evolved into a nightmare only conceived and wished from the most wretched minds. As a Boluk-bashi, Adarkhordad did his best to uphold his obligations in Sarife's defense, however, he was at a loss as to conducting his own duties in the face of the upstart Paighans. All around the barracks grounds, men of optimal age stood in constant state of readiness whilst performing a variety of deployment preparations.

Untirr Thaksin was one such fellow Boluk-bashi and his presence amongst the Nezams stood as one of the many shining examples of exemplary service in the greatest call to arms that resembled defending Sarife's imperial sovereignty. This day, Untirr stood as one of the handpicked officers that had come from a surprisingly talented generation. Together; their officer class stood on the path to the Nezamnite Corps' next officerial corps as had Adarkhordad and out of the many boys that had survived the journey from deep within Sarife's heartlands, he and Untirr had surpassed the most rigorous examinations to embark upon the journey to Orad to become one of Emperor's bodyguards. Their entry as a fellow commanders and leaders saw to the immense responsibilities involved in the Corps' continued survival.

The morning had brought a multitude of visitors, both common and aristocratic alike as news of the Sarifen Prince's grave condition spread through the city in a wildfire manner. All around the walled compound, laborers, servants, matrons, and attendants hustled through the various courtyards and open spaces to prepare the Nezam Stronghold for complete and utter readiness. The tensions that had arisen the previous evening had sparked a discord amongst the ruling aristocrats and Paighan commanders. The blatant incident at the docks had undoubtedly surfaced a distrust between the Paighans and the ancient, high born aristocracy.

Men such as himself and Untirr would serve the Empire's interests aside from the petty squabbles that arose between the various aristocratic factions and power circles. As far as Adarkhordad was concerned, the Nezam-e-Jadid had always remained a small institution and their numbers seemingly remained a shadow of the herculean strengths the various Paighans offered. The Nezam Corps' strict dedication to warring disciplines had always ensured their distinction and startling success on the field as completely competent and reliable military professionals.

While Valania Proper's upper echelons were busy establishing the directives to establish martial law along a divisional basis, Adarkhordad was tasked with ensuring the Nezam's walled stronghold and its defenses while the Nezam officers and warriors assembled for full mobilization. As the compounds and military quarters bustled with activity, Adarkhordad and his entourage remained in robed uniform as they had throughout the entire day. The field surgeons had been dispatched to offer guidance alongside the doctors as they operated feverishly through the night to save Prince Bahramesh. Upon arrival, the Prince seemed gravely ill and rushed through the hospitaller ward's doors amidst a sea of Zhayedans, doctors, matrons, corps soldiers and officers. Adarkhordad was instructed to establish a perimeter to guard the hallways and out compound passages, but had not seen the Prince.

During the night, he and the Nezamissaries held station along the various barricades erected along the many street corners whilst others stood guard near the passage leading towards the bastion's maternity wards. There, men such as Untirr and other Nezam soldiers and corps officers stood watch alongside the small Zhayedan Guard cadre. Amidst initiating a soldier head count, his eyes immediately darted towards the parting doors as orange cloaked Zhayedans burst through the passage to establish a perimter before a corps surgeon and doctor arrived through the passage, hands and apron bloody. Stiffening to attention, Adarkhordad's eyes strayed towards a higher ranking the mustached man wearing a dark turqoise overcoat, cotton shirt, stripes, and red salvar. The two knew him as none other than the Zagarji-bashi of the fifth orta.

"Adarkhordad, Untirr, be ready to array your men into a standard line positions along the hallway and outer walkways. The Prince is alive, but we must keep his rooms and routes safe and the Bozorgan's men away. Whatever happens, you are free to shoot and kill any trespassers on sight. No one enters this stronghold, do you understand me?"

Adarkhordad saluted as his eyes and attention diverted towards an stronghold balcony where the sounds of crashing cymbals were heard amidst a trumpet, drum, pipe, and zurna performed fanfare. The sixth and twenty fifth ortas were departing the stronghold for assignment around the bastion's barricades. Other reserves stood at attention and awaited their calls to action. Scattered reports through the city spoke of various clashes between various Paighans regiments whose commanders owed allegiance to various Sarifen lords and patricians. The capital garrison had largely mobilized around the gates and established various checkpoints, however, their presence remained a strange reminder towards the tensions between the local populace and the various factions within Voltas. This would be a test of arms and all claimed to fight in Emperor Anoush's interests. There would be no room for grey; only to whichever liege or lord one retained their loyalties ...

---

Château de D'Aubigne Cellar Depths - Noble's Quarter

---

Inquisitor Cauchon had witnessed over several dozen heresies unfold before his eyes and served under Saren's leadership for over two decades to understand the potency witches and sorcerers could inflict upon their victims. No matter how many denizens they stormed and infidels set to the stake, hundreds more always lurked in the shadow. He was no stranger to the strange super natural dangers that could unleash upon the countryside at any given moment as did associations with evil spirits and demonic entities of unspeakable, latent strengths.

The sight laying before him delivered a creature not found since the Inquisition's very formation. That the barely conscious figure that resembled a man proved somewhat astonishing, yet as a steadfast Inquisitionist, Cauchon held his emotions at bay. The more heavily armed Inquisitorial Wardens had firmly escorted the heretic into the well stocked wine cellar in the dead of night and away from prying eyes. Following necessary precautions, they'd firmly restrained the prisoner enough to safely depart. The heretic lay chained along a particularly secluded wall section away from the more travelled cellar routes where servants operated.

Yadin-Hamon's authority had inevitably stood firmly and those that desecrated his very existence were without redemption. As such, the condemned heretic's sins had already sealed his fate and owing to the iron mask that covered his face, its seals bound him to the Inquisition's will. The man rightly knew the consequences associated towards escape and had been thoroughly warned. Any attempts to remove the mask would quickly ensure his immediate death and self-preservations towards the demonic entities residing within his body. His identity could not be known to any prying eyes and remained one of the many particular reasons that had inevitably sealed his fate.

"You are to remain here until a time in which your services are required. The debt owed to Yadin-Hamon's blasphemy is unspeakable, however; perhaps particular actions may hold merits towards granting redemption. Attempt escape or mask removal and you will find seventeen demons vying for power within your body. Appear late and the mask's wards shall fail and your mind shall be devoured most horribly. You are a wretched creature and your atonement is lacking. You have been thoroughly warned, traitor, and should you again defile Yadin-Hamon, you will die and alone the blame shall fall to none other than your own wretchedness. The Lord Sorvereign will arrive soon if you stand properly there shall be hope for you yet or the demons will prove the least of your worries ..."

---

Château de D'Aubigne Courtyards - Noble's Quarter

---

The lavish inner reception stood paramount towards the Château de D'Aubigne. Life in the Merchants and Noble's Quarters proved a much more comforting affair and the residencies housed little to no lodgings save respectable inns, coach, and boarding houses. The Châteaus and Villas doting the Voltasian Heights proved as much a chance of extragant social dueling as they were residencies and Château de D'Aubigne proved no different.

A stark contrast had not become more evident following entry through the Gates and Valois Walls that separated the higher classes. The avenue routes through the Noble's and Merchant's Quarters passed through the winding Voltasian streets where neither beggars nor commoner rabble were to be found in this part of the capital. The recent prosperity brought through Ivalian commerce had almost certainly allowed for resident villas near the estates, where upon, Ivalian aristocrats and land owning tennants had begun to occupy manor estates and châteaus owned by ancient Valanian families.

The spacious Château de D'Aubigne proved a sight of comotion as horses driven carriages had begun to rumble through the coaching grounds to deliver their occupants. The sea of bright lanterns dotting the walkways and frothing fountains only further enhanced the mood as the day reached sunset. It was almost as if the Yadin Hamon shined upon D'Aubigne and in setting sun's midst, the golden rays illuminated the manor grounds into a soft, glittering glow.

As more guests arrived as was expected, the gathering would truly begin. One could handsomely profit through proper introductions that could either forge or end an individual's political career. Equally so, one could certainly earn powerful attention or ire through dress alone for to enter the ball was to enter a dueling ground of considerable politics, fueled only more fervently through Sarifen appearances. Various aristocrats of Sarifen and Valanian heritage as well as several hailing from Ivalis littering the manor grounds weaved and frothed through the assembled courtly circles and already gossip and whispered murmurs began to emerge of the dockyard's massacre as well as questions regarding when the Lord Sovereign would address Sarife's numerous and unruly Paighans. As commotion filled the air, several guests had outpaced their company through drink consumptions.

Chilled wines, champaigne, and rare cocktails cluttered every servant's tray whilst appetizers ranging from ordinary delicacies to the exceedingly exotic floated across the manor grounds. All the same, comedial Jesters danced and leap through the crowds performing dazzling acrobatic displays whilst richly silk dressed scholars sat indoors as they discussed and recited poetry amidst tea and hashish. Notable guests had already begun to flock through the coaching ground accompanied as attendants and retainers escorted both prominent guests and aristocrats retinue.

The sights, smells, laughter, and cheerful music coursed through the adjacent avenues surrounding the lush château's rather enclosed location. The dinner platters were purportedly said to enter through the kitchen doors where an array of finely prepared foods of notable cuisines would be served throughout the lush garden estate's courtyards and dining hall ; a dabble of Sarifen cuisines with Valanian and Ivalian. A hush fell over the convening circles as loud gallops, drums, and large trumpet calls burst through the Château courts. A modest retainer troop entered the Coaching Grounds as attendants gathered enmasse to receive the arriving carriage. Upon halting, the halberd carrying retainers drilled into strict formation to form a spacious path leading towards the Chateau's courts. Those nearest the Coaching grounds assembled along the walkways before removing their decorated hats before kneeling in secession as the Lord Sovereign himself emerged through the holes of his lavish carriage ...

𝒜𝑙𝘵𝒶𝑒𝒶: 𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒜𝑔𝑒 𝓸𝘧 ℛ𝑒𝒱𝓸𝑙𝓊𝓉𝒾𝓸𝓃

Hey all! I know I've been on a hiatus and I wanted to say that I'm still here and that I feel like I don't have a very solid for understanding of both Persian and Turkish culture and mannerism. I've been looking into selected readings from the Memoirs of Babur and would like to offer my official thanks to Peik for supplying the information and resources to give justice to Sarife and its individuals. I do have a post on the way it is coming very very soon; maybe by today if I finish all sections! As always; I'm here for questions, collaboration requests, or concerns so please don't hesitate to light up my mailbox 8)

On a side note, I have two excellent soundtracks, an Ottoman Empire documentary, and a Persian Achaemenid Empire for your viewing pleasures!

Soundtracks





Documentaries

𝒜𝑙𝘵𝒶𝑒𝒶: 𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒜𝑔𝑒 𝓸𝘧 ℛ𝑒𝒱𝓸𝑙𝓊𝓉𝒾𝓸𝓃

Haven't had the privilege of playing any new Metal Gear Solid games, but in the distant past, I've seen plenty of nice walkthroughs. This latest installment should be a nice title! Personally, I'm a little more stoked about the Witcher 3: The Wild Hunt, but that's just me 8P.

Edit: Post is being refined, stayed tuned everyone!