Dorothea traced the castle’s walls wearing her cloak to conceal herself around her surroundings, her glasses making her sight a lot sharper in the darkness than it usually would. She knew she could probably take the guards out if needed but that could cause more problems than she would’ve like to deal with. ”verdammte graugeboren.” The Feskan mumbled to herself, clearly annoyed by having to find a more difficult way in compared to her companion.
”Fast so ärgerlich wie damals, als dieser Travendour-Junge es tat.” After quite some soft grumbling and mumbling Dorothea found herself a pipe with metal barriers going through it. It was a sewage pipe… Toll... Das scheint der beste Weg zu sein, mich zu verstecken. She sighed. Soon enough the smell hit her nose. Götter, es stinkt
After a couple seconds of taking it all in she made an opening big enough for her to fit through with the use of Chemical magic. After taking the smell in for a bit longer made her realize that it did stink as much as she thought, as if it has not been used that often. Is the castle understaffed or something? Not that it mattered much with the current trek though she couldn’t help herself but use some Chemical magic to make it smell a little nicer for herself.
Barrier after barrier was dealt with in the same way. Scheiße! Did they really have to put so many barriers in the way? This is starting to get tedious. Quite a bit after she stumbled upon a room that looked akin to something of a basement. It looked so old that she could feel the dust cling to her. Her companion to her annoyance was already there to welcome her. ...Angeberin… Then they spotting something that would not fit a basement… but rather a dungeon as a chained up skeleton that… did not look human… Yasoi?... No, it looked more beastly than that. ”What.. is that?...”
From the Inn, a walk eastward through a straight path led to the impressive Church that was only matched by the castle further north in size. Not quite a cathedral but certainly bigger than a village’s site of worship, Mandelein was unmistakably Quentic with more care put to the building compared to the more weathered structures that populated the compact streets of the Kerreman town. Sounds of earth being grinded would inevitably bring attention to the plot of land right of the Church. There was a cemetery with a grave in the midst of being dug by the local grave tender.
The house of the Gods was always open to all, figuratively and literally in this case. Inside were sets of pews with a robed young man sat at the front indulging in some reading, rows of candles aligned to the walls being lit by an elderly nun and an ornate altar at the end of a recently cleaned carpet. Behind the altar was a golden tabernacle that stood out in its lavish appearance compared to the more humble colours and decor of the Church.
Emerging from a door leading to one of the quarters behind the establishment was a tall, balding man with a red moustache that easily put Manfred’s to shame. By his liturgical getup and age, it could be deduced that he was the Priest that led this church, “A most warm welcome to Mandelein. I am Father Jacques Dubosque.” he greeted in perfect Avincian and a deep voice, “I trust Ines has offered adequate hospitality even under short notice.” He flashed a smile at the group as he walked closer to them. He had a very clear limp on his right side, although it didn’t seem to really slow him down, “I had been told that there were many of you,” he first conferred a glance toward Dorothea, “of different walks of life,” then Ymiico, “and most interestingly, a sister walking among you.” Finally, his green eyes landed upon Laska. He addressed her specifically, “This could not be a matter of the Church. So I must ask,” he took a seat on a nearby pew and sighed in relief, “what warrants such a visit from such a distinct group to our humble town?”
Meanwhile, the robed man sitting at the front turned to watch the introductions unfold with a playful grin on his face. The nun, on the other hand, was completely unperturbed in her duty.
She was not, of course, the only nun in the church. Edyta Laska was there as well, and she well recognized the trappings of the town’s former glory. She smiled softly at Father Dubosque and bowed in the fashion of the church. “Father,” she greeted him politely, “I am Sister Edyta Laska, of the Red Rezaindians.” She gestured towards the other two. “These are Lady Dorothea Hohnstein of Feska and Ymiico’luun’yoru: a yasoi of Nikan.” She smiled evenly. “I will not mince words with a comrade in faith,” she decided, “for you deserve the truth. If one of my order is here, it is for the reason you have most likely ascertained: there is a monster of a magical nature in your town and I, along with my friends, are here to cleanse it.”
The good father passed his hand over his thigh as Laska presented him with the obligatory introductions followed by clear motives. His eyes drifted again to take in the clergywoman’s entourage, “The ways of the Rezaidian order may have changed since my arrival in Mandelein, but it strikes me as unusual for an envoy of the Church to be sent with the unaffiliated.” Dubosque responded, “Answer me frankly, sister, and I will reciprocate. Has this endeavour been ordered by the Church?” his eyes returned to her with a stern look to them.
“Maybe the senhorita wants to bring the right tools for the job, Jacques.” a voice echoed from the front row of pews as the sound of a loudly closed book punctuated the remark. A man no older than his mid-twenties spoke with a modulated voice, recognizably Segonian by his accent and choice of words. A man with a long stubble and tied, long hair emerged, wearing a Stresian getup that hide his lanky being, “Besides, the Church wouldn’t send an entire squadron over rumours and minor problems, would they?” she shrugged with as he approached the group, his book hidden under his arm, “I believe the sister is capable of answering simple formalities, brother.” remarked the older priest, “That would still leave the question of why such particular interest to Mandelein?”
Dorothea looked around before walking away from the other two to approach the young man back in the front, smiling warmly at the robed figure. ”Guten Tag,” The girl thought to herself before speaking further. ”Sprechen Sie Kerreman oder wäre Avincianisch besser geeignet?”
The monk waved his hands after grabbing his book from under his arm, “Oh, por favor, let’s keep it Avincian. I just arrived.” he smiled charmingly at Dory, his eyes shifting between her crown and more ‘generous’ assets on her, “But Olá! You can call me Baudile, Philosopher of the Stresian Order!” he was one for dramatics, taking a bow before the Feskan and reaching out to seize her hand, offering an introductory kiss to the lady, “From the big capital school, eh? Boa! I’ve only been once to the magic city myself.” he was slick, but Dorothea could easily notice he was often eyeing the headwear.
Sister Laska narrowed her eyes, but only slightly. It could just as easily be taken as a gesture of consideration as one of suspicion. “I attend the academy. I work for the church. One may fulfil both worldly and spiritual duties at once,” the young nun remarked, an idea coming to her. “Is it not so, Father, as the priest of this small town?” She allowed her eyes to rove somewhat pointedly over the unusually ornate tabernacle and other accoutrements.
“I wholeheartedly agree, sister.” he allowed a smile to form as he emerged from his seat with a light grunt. That leg had seen better days, “We do have a duty to the worldly needs of our flock too.” he affirmed, pacing toward the tabernacle and passing by Baudile, “The question still stands, however, Sister. Whether the Church or the School, what made Mandelein so worthy of the prestigious school’s time?” he inquired as he arrived at the altar, one that wasn’t nearly as decorated as the tabernacle, but looked more recent, “Although it is clear they would not have sent your group without certainties. And to that I will confirm the existence of a …” he inhaled loudly as he was mulling over his words, “Scourge that had caused some grief. A scourge we have since taken measures to handle.”
“I come here at the academy’s behest, but I do so to perform the same service I would for the church.” She clasped her hands and followed the priest, glancing at his conspicuous limp. “Pray tell, brother in faith, what is this scourge you refer to?” She now regarded his leg conspicuously. “Was it the cause of the injury that you now so stoically bear?
“You were correct in your assertion, Sister Laska. A so-called beast has caused grief among the townsfolk and our cattle.” he explained, finding support on the altar to sustain his weight, “It started three months ago. Since then we’ve managed to limit the dangers.” then came the subject of his leg, and the mere mention got him to rub his aching thigh, “Hah, that. Is it of your nature to inquire about everything you see, regardless of formalities?” he chuckled to add levity to his question, “It’s an old leg injury from a Skuggvar attack. The damage was simply … Too great.” his smile faded as he peered down to the Menana rested on the altar, “I’d bring my cane but I’m afraid a certain brother has taken the habit of imposing his own cleaning habits.” he shot a glare at brother Baudile.
The Feskan’s face contorted into one of surprise before letting out a sigh. How could she forget that not everyone around the churches were locals. “Ah, Avincian it will be then.” Clearing her throat. “Nice to meet you, mister Baudile. What did you think of Ersand’Enise then?” A wave of discomfort hit the girl as he eyed her headwear. ”Fancy my attire? Or are you perhaps eyeing something else?” Dory smiled warmly. Baudile shook his head and gestured in dismissal, “Oh, pardon me,” he looked her in the eyes, “I’m simply surprised to see such a gorgeous senhorita in this humble Church!” he chuckled, “And for you, I’ll turn a blind eye to not calling me brother!” he gestured over to the pew, inviting Dory to sit, “Ersand’Enise … I remember very vividly a little stand that sold coffee near the school.” he rubbed the his stubble, ”Their crest had a girl’s face on it. Weird, right?”
Dory bowed her head in a playful manner. ”Oh, I’m sorry Brother Baudile.” Soon after taking a seat. ”Ah, I think I know the place you are talking about. I believe it is called ZenoBucks™. Dory thought to herself. ”Ah, so you have been there quite recently?” Baudile crossed his arms, his hand still holding his nondescript book, “A few months ago, around Caldores.” he answered, “I was there to assist my mentor in an investigation that was ending. Some of our brethren went missing around Velles.” the suave monk explained, “But that’s not too important.” he nudged his head to point at Dory’s crown with his chin, “So, Feskan Royal, eh?”
“There should be no formality between we servants of the Pentad,” Edyta added with a smile. “And you will find me curious both by duty and by nature. How else does one master the Gift, after all?” She clasped her hands behind her back, looking about the church in admiration. “Such a beautiful house of worship and I can see how much you care for it and your flock.” There was, this time, a hint of genuine warmth to her smile. “Rest assured that I am here to help you with your problem, to make this place safe for you and all of them.” With that, she unclasped her hands. “And I shall not trouble you much further but, first, pray tell, Father, just how dangerous are those woods? What can one expect were she to venture there? This beast: do you believe it to be a mere rogue skuggvar?”
Jacques Dubosque also gave an admirative gaze to the Church he had led for over twenty years now, “I must apologise, sister.” he looked out at the Church window and its colourful mosaics, his eyes showing a man that had something to say but was gripped by hesitation, “I may have held a bit too much doubt in regards to your intentions.” he admitted, looking down briefly before eventually making eye-contact with his junior, “After a while in my position, you tend to become wary of outsiders, even if they follow the same creed as yourself.” He opened the Menana before him and stopped at a page with the top corner purposefully bent. It had been the basis of his sermon the day prior, and such memories always brought him ease of mind.
“The beast is no Skuggvar. In fact, you won’t find many anymore.” he answered with no signs indicating deception, “The Teufelssumpf, the forest surrounding us, holds many dangerous animals, including Coal Toads. It wouldn’t be wise to venture without some guidance.” then, he called out to the nun in the same tongue that was spoken all around the village. Dorothea could hear it, but again it was quite distinct from the Kerreman she knew. The nun replied with a brief answer, prompting a nod, “There is a man called Viktor. Strong, tall and blonde that is unmistakably Magusjaeger. He has been helping us, and since then there have been far fewer incidents. At this time he’s likely in the forest but …” he took a moment and then nodded as if he had convinced himself of something, “You can probably find him in the Inn you're staying in early in the morning. I’ll have Sister Eberl inform him of your situation.”
“You are a credit to your order, Father.” She bowed in the manner of the church, mind swirling with ideas, and bade him a polite farewell, turning her attention towards Dorothea in case she required assistance and, if not, towards the pews where she might pray for Shune’s wisdom and Eshiran’s strength.
People disappeared around the time of the trials? Was it that team of holy men? The girl always thought they had to go do some kind of divinely inspired mission or something akin to that. She was taken by surprise as the brother pointed at her crown. ”Royalty?... No, no, I could never.” confused by one thing the girl looked at the brother. ”How’d you know I was Feskan by chance?”
“They say Feskans have the … brightest of eyes!” he winked, trying his best to keep his own eyes onto Dory’s, “And the accent. It has a distinct melody to it.” Baudile looked over toward the altar. The exchange was reaching its end and things had to be done, “I’m afraid, Senhorita, that our time together must end for now.” a courteous nod was dedicated to Dory, “If you have any need for help …” he leaned in by her ear, and for a brief moment there was an anti-sound bubble formed around them, “Tomorrow night, the Trade Guild might have something that would interest you. Maybe.” then he backed up, finger-gunned with both hands and eventually retreated to one of the chambers at the back.
Just before the eve of Nox Arcanum, Dorothea got a special request from the crown. Not fully understanding why Vedil wished for her to take one of the Society of the Gift’s prized possessions, the Staff of the Covenant. A legendary staff of Eskandish origin as she has overheard over the last year of hearsay. Not only did she need to steal it from the Society of the Gift she also was tasked to take it to the Mausoleum of Ste. Berenice. The reason why was not disclosed as the only response back that was given was an ominous “You’ll see.”
To prepare for the masquerade where the Staff would be shown off the girl made sure to select the most opulent of dresses she had. Having sewed in an inner pocket where she could hide a couple samples of her newest product, derived from her mastering around the chemical formula that would put someone into a state of unconsciousness. A powder that was created with the similar formula, heating up upon contact with high concentration of moisture and becoming her signature gas. She dubbed it her Schlafpulver. She bound a rather small knife sheath along her thigh, the knife itself was not big or noticeable but it might come in handy. Donning the Mask of the Wandering Witch Doctor as she went to the party.
The evening masquerade was well underway and the staff was in her eyesight, she just needed the right time and place. Not thinking she could take out the students guarding it and make a run for it. Her indecisiveness came in handy this time around as… Hugo… came back and the girl could feel her ability to use magic fade away. using the shock and lack of magic to her advantage as she ran towards the staff, grabbing some wine from a person she passed. grabbing her powder and as she reached her destination released the powder into the wine and caused it to unleash her incapacitating agent. knocking out the people around the staff one by one. The girl had no time to think it through any longer as she grabbed the Staff and made a run for it.
Without her noticing the girl had not realized that something happened to her or rather with people around her. First their eyes were not glued to the staff… but rather to her and her figure. Without much of a warming the girl was getting swarmed by these people. The girl used the Marrowood staff to fend the people off enough to open some sort of pathway, her clothing was getting torn from the hands grabbing onto. The long dress turned a lot shorter after some tearing, but eventually the girl was out of the group’s stampede as the effect subsided as her magic returned to her.
Without much warning a dark portal appeared and a frog-like being hopped out, was it a frog? No, it reeked too much of Void energy for that. It appeared to be a Frog Demon of sorts and quickly lunged towards the Feskan. Out of fear the girl did not hold back against the demon and cast Touch of Doom against him, causing the little frog demon to expand before violently exploding into tiny bits.
As if one demon was not enough, soon another portal opened and another small demon appeared, this one looking somewhat more human? The noise it made was terrible cackling noise. To deal with the pest quickly the girl used Blizzard of Knives to skewer the demon and quickly let it escape this plane of existence.
Then as if the other two demons were more a test of her patience another presence came out of a third portal. This one felt different, it gave the girl chicken bumps by just its sheer presence. A massive grinning demon made itself present and looked straight at Dory. The Feskan shook in her boots before something clicked in her mind and soon enough her body began convulsing. The demon within the girl’s body did not say a single word with the only thing present on him being a content smirk. With little effort the crown’s demon tried to remove the grinning demon from reality, however it was not enough as he clawed its way back. Then “Dory’s” face contorted into a more annoyed frown. Putting in more effort into its next spell as the space around the grinning demon turned into the void and without much chance to struggle was erased from reality.
The crown’s demon let control over the body go and soon enough Dory came back, grasping her head and continuing her way towards the mausoleum, then one last portal opened as a small chicken demon appeared out of it. Dory, having had enough of this debacle, used Coldfire to coat the chicken demon with a non ending flame.
Then a sensation that was familiar from before came over her as what little people were around were dangerously attracted once more to her for some reason. Every person coming close to her was hit full blast by a gaze of sloth from her, forming up a line of unconscious bodies.
The sensation left her once more as a small condensed cloud hung over her head and poured cats and dogs, the girl struggled to keep up her pace with the rising winds. Lightning struck and like a gunslinger, Dory blasted it and the cloud away with a darkbolt. Running just in case a cloud returns.
Upon reaching the Mausoleum of Ste. Berenice, Dorothea looked around and found a couple of Gargoyles. Most of them look as if they have been left alone while others look quite damaged. Dory walked forward and placed the Staff upon a broken altar as was requested. The staff emitted energy and soon enough the statues around her began to move? The statue-esque beings soon enough approached the girl and kneeled. Out of the ten gargoyles only six managed to look unscathed, two unfortunately did not come to life from their broken form. It was then that Dory noticed that they were not seen around the group of six that slowly approached the girl, one was missing an arm while the other missed a wing. Their cries almost sounded like begging.
Taking pity on them, the girl sighed. She did not know how to bring back limbs with how little blood magic she had. Placing her left and right hand on both of their heads, even if she does not have the magic to heal them she can soothe their pain. But as if the gods themselves heard these being's pleas the arm and wing grew back upon their form. Both of them grabbed her respective hand and shook them before falling back in line with the other six.
Then everything went numb, she could still see however there was no way for her to speak or move on her own. It seemed as if Vedil had taken over. The words out of her mouth was not a single language she could understand in the slightest. Then something that sounded like a list of names came across. the two that came to her were called out first. “Zabarchazad, Arisztaxa” Then the others were called out “Simbarids, Gorganchack, Dandrouyo, Kalifenni, Dexoria, Allanayax” Vedil’s words continued a while further and the eight of them flew off, leaving Dory alone at the mausoleum once more. ”What just happened?...”
Of course Benedetto would resort to violence the first chance he gets, however it is too hot to argue too much with him and his ways. Why the hells do they all have to resort to violence that quickly? I mean I hate those people that always think peace is the best solution but hells, this is getting ridiculous!
Then this armored person… Really? In the desert? Is this person insane? ..To think someone that would probably be one of the highest ranked dumbasses in the Red Table Society would talk to Benedetto like this? Are they wishing for a swift death? I mean why such thick armor?... Talk about old fashioned..
Before this might get dirty or he gets tasked to do something he bent light to make himself unseeable to the human eye and scurried to a bit of a safer distance away from the Red Table Lady and Benedetto before he could be hit by any of the two’s attacks. Idioten, both of you…
Fiske followed suit of the others as he was thrown out of the portal although he was not one to make an ungraceful entrance. The boy used his kinetic magic to redirect his momentum into a flip, landing gracefully on his feet soon after as he took a pose akin to having finished a dance. “Opa!~” Bowing towards his nonexistent audience
He soon enough got to realize that his normal attire was not suited for this arid.. Hot.. Horrid place. A desert. Quickly drawing and casting to keep his body from potentially overheating. “Why do people choose to even live here?!” He grabbed onto his collar of his vest.
Seeing the others prepare to fight got him rather hesitant to stand out any further. A shiver appeared on the poor lad’s expression as he spotted Benedetto’s grin. “A way to get there?..” The boy was on his toes, prepared to move out of the way if the Revidian wanted to show off his brawn like usual.
Not just one Hegelan city but two in a single day. Even if the Perrenchmen did not look that amused on the surface, however in his mind were all sorts of joyous thoughts roaming. What a wondrous city.
Hearing the merchant rabble in the mercantile district had no effect on him as he was at this point still admiring the infrastructure and the city as a whole. He scarcely picked up what their guide was telling them.
A bunkhouse? Perhaps they were not expecting a man of such high standing as himself because otherwise they would have had a less smelly abode, would they not?
Yvain was so absorbed with his own thoughts that he did not notice her cousin was already away, a shame. Guess I’ll be out on my own then. With that the Perrenchman set off. Looking around, he soon became rather hesitant to buy anything. What do I want?.. A smirk appeared on his face. One of his wishes finally came true and he does not know what to do or get. Perhaps it might be best to just wander around.
The boy was going through some of his notes, smiling confidently. “Martijn de Mol, can come in handy in future endeavors. Fiske Flachstrauch, current moniker.. nothing annoying with it yet. Leander Keraunos, potentially fun name although pretending to be a thunderchild was too cumbersome. Raghild Rauch, Kind of a weird experience… still surprised I was never exposed as a man. Oswald Osborne, What a fun name that was, just not fun when the church people aren’t so gullible. Reynard Danneman, potentially lucrative for later. And then we have…” The boy let out a sigh before ripping that name out of his notes. “Not like I’ll ever use this one again.” One by one he began to remove some redundant names.
The boy dipped a quill in ink and began taking notes whilst using his offhand to direct one of his knives to circle around. “Hmm, what about Isaac Lischka? A name like that would be perfect for when my current one becomes too risky to use. Maybe Gester Grappehaus?..” Fiske laughed to himself. “No, no, that sounds more like a joke name than the others.”
“Perhaps what I need are some more further reaching names. Manuel Amador doesn’t sound too horrid of a name to have. Maybe I should add something from the other side too… Osman Kocak, hah! That name might even sound normal to a Darhannic!” Then a sense of frustration hits the illusionist, sending his knife into the wall. “Belzaggic… Yasoi… No matter how great my acting is or my illusions may be… I doubt I can convincingly.. unless there might be another way. That may lead me towards more dangerous paths…” The boy looked determined. He will find a way to further his art.
Dorothea sighed heavily, letter in hand. The journey homeward was not one she particularly wished to partake in, however it is one she must. A pained expression covered the girl’s face. I am not ready for this. I don’t think I’ll ever be. The thoughts of taking a friend with her as emotional support haunt her. She truly would love nothing more than to have a friend with her yet she knew that she’d rather not involve her friends into that pit of problems.
It was still rather concerning that the place of meeting was in Wismar. Usually when Annalie kept it within her own holdings within Forchberg, was this sanctioned by the other houses or perhaps it was nothing more than a trap. The only thing the girl knew for sure was that she could not back out of this whether she wanted to or not. Her family’s reputation relied upon it.
Meeting at the Capital
Upon going through the gates of Wismar, the Kaufmanns himmel, it has been so long since she saw the city that shows both sides of the coin that is her beloved country. The city was truly opulent, showing off its wealth everywhere it could. It also showed off the ugly side, the homes filled with wealthy merchants. Rumors around the merchants have spread towards the main houses that merchants around Dami’s eye will do almost anything for a spot in the city. Selling your soul to demons like the Rednitz just for monetary gain, just thinking of it makes me sick. a weak grin covered Dorothea’s face as she realized the irony in her train of thought.
Heinrichsburg, the palace of the five seats. What a horrid place for a meeting. A sign of the victory of the five ruling houses… However, it is also a reminder of the failure of her own house. It should still be her family’s palace! It should be her palace! Walking past the halls, the walls had memorabilia of her family. Paintings of past rulers, battles fought by Heinrich the Great. It all felt like mockery, how dare they. If it were not for her forefathers the other houses would’ve been nothing more than low Kerreman nobility.
The doors were opened by the Wismarwacht as she approached the chamber of the five, however something was off, there were six seats around the large table. Not only that, only one of the six seats were filled, did the others not arrive yet? “Ah, Lady Hohnstein. It seems that you had a safe trip back to our beautiful city?” The woman in the seat stood up and bowed courteously. A warm smile covering her face. “Or would you rather be called Gräfin now?” Dorothea smiled back, somewhat annoyed by the warm welcome from a woman like her. “It has been quite a while since we met, hasn't it, Herzogin Rednitz?” The girl bowed back. “Herzogin? No, no, I am but a Gräfin this cycle. Alfred Benrath is the herzog now.” Annalie pointed towards one of the seats. “Come now, enough formalities. Sit. We have much to discuss”
Annalie cleared her throat. “My sincerest condolences, Dorothea. I was truly saddened to hear the news of the attack.” The woman put up a face filled with regret. “If my informants were allowed on your father’s lands I might have been able to save them. Now they have fallen victim to the Traveller’s radicalized bandits.” “I’m still surprised there wasn’t an attempt on the other houses.” Dory interrupted. “Ah, now that I think about it it is weird, isn’t it?.” Annalie replied. Dorothea’s expression still looked somewhat saddened but a soft spark of anger lit as she started to put the puzzle pieces together. “I do hope you won’t end up like your father, that would truly be a disgrace to such a historical great family. You show a lot more potential than that coward.” Annalie grinned. Dory gritted her teeth. “I would prefer you not talk about my father like that now that he is no longer among us.” The Rednitz woman looked somewhat surprised by the response the other gave. “Why is that? Did you really revere your father?” “It is because he believed in me, to lead the family-…” Before Dory could even finish her sentence Annalie bursted out in laughter. “You truly think your father had faith in you? The only reason you were still heir was due to your brother revoking his claim onto it.” The words of the woman stabbed deep into the girl’s heart. “What are you saying? My father always showed his utmost love towards me…” Dorothea started to slump into her seat. “Is that how you see it?” Annalie pointed right at Dory. “Then what about your tutors? No true magic tutors, no real others past etiquette, Avincian and our own mother tongue.”
Having enough of the slander Dorothea jumped up from her seat. “You have no right to talk about my family like this!” Annalie’s expression changed to an irritated stare. “Sit down, Dorothea. I do not wish for this to get messy. You can cry about how little people cared about you after we finished our talk.” Dory’s eyes stabbed into Annalie’s. “I have learned quite a bit of languages… and my magic-..” “Ah, but that is because of yourself. Not due to your shameful example of a fath-.” The Hohnstein girl began to draw. “Enough!” The Rednitz woman looked unimpressed. “Sit down, this is your final warning.” The warning was not received by the girl as within moments Flames started to appear… But before the girl could do anything further she was forced on her knees. Annalie stood up and walked towards Dorothea. No matter how much the girl tried to stand up she was kept on her knees.
Annalie Grabbed Dorothea’s chin to force her into facing her. “You’ve shown much potential, yet your obsession with your family gets in the way of achieving greatness.” Dorothea’s eyes burned with maddening anger. “You growl like a rabid hound, but in reality you are nothing more than a pup wishing to be a wolf.” How dare she? How dare she? How in the hells dare she look down on me like this? If she could use her hands she could kill her, if only she could use her hands… The expression on the woman changed to a sadistic grin. “But you will be a well behaving little one, will you not?” The look on Dorothea stayed defiant. Annalie’s face inched closer to Dorothea’s ear. “You know, I know about your little fling with the Kerreman lad. What was his name again? Ah, right… Manfred was it not?” The woman blew into her ear. “It would be a shame if you lost him as well, wouldn’t it?”
Fearful thoughts raced through Dorothea’s mind. She wouldn’t just kill a foreign noble to get her to fall in line would she?... No, no. She definitely would. A woman like this is dangerous enough that even Manfred would not be safe. The fear was enough to cause the girl to nod. “That’s a first step, I’ll bring up to greatness yet.” With that the woman walked back to her seat, letting her grasp of the girl go. “Now that that’s settled, there is something I wish to discuss with you.” Annalie paused. “Do you not hate the fact that your house is one of the major houses yet does not get to decide anything? Does the fact that these incompetent fools run the country not anger you?” Dorothea looked hesitant to speak up. “I believe that the five houses have been overall a detriment to Feska…” “Then how would you feel about the Hohnsteins, or rather you taking a seat as one of the five houses?” With that one of the seats fell to the ground. “Then what would the other houses say?...” Dorothea was still unsure to agree. “In that case… We just get rid of those as well.” The other seats fell down one by one until the two occupied seats remained. “If they refuse to accept you then I will make sure we will be all that remains.” Annalie grinned. “But does that not sound so bad, now does it? Two houses instead of five in charge? No longer cycling the title of Herzog, just the two that share the title.” The Rednitz woman opened up her arms with a warm smile. This has to be a trap. “Will the other countries not intervene with a powergrasp like this?” The girl questioned the idea the other had. “No, not really. As long as we keep the trade flowing they do not care.” Annalie stood up triumphantly. “Now, will you join me in the making of a new age of our beloved Feska?” Dorothea nodded before standing up herself. “I will be a part of the new age of our beloved Feska.” After quite a hefty discussion between the two the plan was set in motion and Dorothea returned to her home at Linthlan.
Sorrows
Walking around her home gave her mixed feelings. On one hand it is still her home, the place she grew up in… but it is also a lot more quiet than she was used to. Out of curiosity the girl explored the rooms she never truly got to enter before. The room of her father was ransacked. The effort was made to make it look somewhat presentable, however it was obvious to the girl that something happened here. The pain from seeing her father’s room turned into something more akin to boiling anger as she entered her mother’s old room. Empty, it was as empty as could be. Did she know this would’ve happened and went back to those dirty Herbeumonts?
Then her brother’s room. Floris was always the goofy type, a child that never wished for the burden of ruling. To think they could take the life of such an innocent child. After looking around she stumbled upon a letter, did he mean to send a letter out before the attack happened? Filled with curiosity she opened the letter and noticed that it was addressed to her.
Dear Sister,
If you read this I will most likely have been gone for a while. Seeing how you are, you must have been sulky in my room. Well I have something to tell you if that is the case. First, don’t look too deep into my room! It is not yours even if I may be gone! And second, please don’t be too sad. I will still be able to see the incredible things you can do even if I won’t be with you anymore.
The reins of the family will be in your hands if my fears are true. But do not fret, you have enough people to push you forward. It is okay to ask for their help from time to time, you know?
We will meet again when your time comes, although I do not hope for a reunion before you can brag about all the great things you’ve done in life.
The best brother, Floris.
Tears began to drip off the girl’s cheeks. “Floris.. You dummkopf… You should’ve said that with your voice, not with written words. I am not ready for this... Ich vermisse dich so sehr....”
❖ Dory returned home after receiving an invitation. ❖ Her together with Annalie Rednitz have begun plot to overthrow the other houses. ❖ Dory still has doubts about it, her hatred for Annalie only grew. ❖ She returned to her home and found a letter of her deceased brother.
A high noble from head to toe. Yvain values the nobilitas he was born with, however he does feel a desire to prove that he truly is worthy of said privilege, be it through his words or through his actions. When it comes to diplomatic matters he tends to use his gift to it's fullest extent to the point he might start coming over as flirtatious. He however disdains using it on people that are truly committed to their partner, feeling that it would be an unforgivable sin. Not even requests from his father, the Duc de Berbignon will be accepted on this matter.
C H A R A C T E R A P P E A R A N C E
Standing at an impressive six feet, Yvain has no qualms of his height. His Blonde hair, blue eyes and wearing the ruby that was said to be a gift of Benedict the Blessed to his son. have gotten his family to see him as the new Benedict. To subvert this however, Yvain has chosen to wear more darker colored clothing.
L A N G U A G E S
Being a product of two truly prestigious bloodlines, Yvain got nothing but the best tutors from around the lands. Giving the boy a perfect fluency in Perrench and Avincian, Revidian and Enthish were taught to the boy from a young age to prepare him for the coming political discourse he will be a part of. Out of intrigue and curiosity of the eastern people's cultures Yvain picked up Thalak, Budesrnish and Warlish so that he may send himself on diplomatic missions to these nations.
T H E G I F T
Blueblood, Rosebud
❖ Kinetic - Journeyman
❖ Arcane - Adept
❖ Atomic - Adept
As a person of high standing in both class and capacity, Yvain's usage of magic is as sophisticated as he is. Having mastery of the telekinesis element of Kinetic magic to the point he uses it in his way of life without much thought. These points however is not to say that he would not enjoy abusing his power from time to time just to prove a point, getting quite the kicks from seeing his opponent's face as he forces them to the ground with the use of gravity
He prefers not to use Atomic and Arcane as much as he likes using Kinetic, feeling he still is too clumsy with both schools. But when he is pushed to use either of two he could not care less what kind of collateral his magic could cause, you could say that the gloves will be off, figuratively.
B A C K G R O U N D
Being the child of Duc Jacques de Berbignon and Margaret de Perrence-Beauneux gave the boy quite a lot of privileges growing up. Always getting the best tutors for Language, sword fighting, etiquette and magic among others. He got all that was needed for the heir of a great ducal house. His relationship with his siblings have been quite strained ever since he could remember, being the golden child distanced him from them. Soon enough being proclaimed as heir apparent during his younger years when it was clear that the others would not grow as far as him.
Ever since then Yvain has had to deal with a pit of vipers, trying to use his naivety for their own personal gain. In truth the boy had a mixed feeling about these vile people, at first there was disdain. Feeling pure disgust for the minor nobility wishing to use a child for borrowed prestige. And then there grew another feeling in his later youth, pity.
Yvain has always envied the main branch as no matter how worthy they truly are for the position, they will inherit the throne while he will never be looked at as a successor. This envy has caused him to have quite the dislike for Arcel de Perrence, whom he deems to as sorely to meek to lead Perrence.
Coming to Ersand'Enise has been a refreshing time for Yvain, having been away from the viper's pit back home gave him plenty time to think.
M O T I V A T I O N
The young lad came to Ersand'Enise to mingle with the high society of other nations, building up his personal influence past his family's so that one day he might be chosen the rightful adviser of the Perrench crown. Although his family wished for him to marry a woman from the Herbeumont family, the candidate however was too meek for his standards. Ersand'Enise is a prime opportunity for him in this sense.
The main fear of Yvain is of ending up as a puppet instead of the puppeteer. The feeling in the back of his head that eats away at him is the fact his family would have the gall to use him as a tool to further their ends. He is the useful one, he should be the one to profit the most.
Another person he would love to find is a worthwhile rival to match his skill in dueling, giving him further drive to better his skills.
I N V E N T O R Y
Vailant Noir: A shield made from the scales of the Gehenna from the times of the Eskandr invasion of his home.
Cufflinks with the crest of the Berbignon imbued on them.
S T R E N G T H S & S K I L L S
❖ Know-how around courts
A given for a noble of his caliber. Yvain has been taught how to deal with courts ever since he can remember, giving him the gift of feeling natural in a court of nobles.
❖ Trustworthy
Yvain is not a man that will easily back down from his words and if made a friend will be a very loyal companion towards those he trusts.
❖ Great Fencer/Duelist
The Perrenchman has loved sword fighting ever since a young age, taking it up as a hobby and being quite known for his swordsmanship in the Perrench courts.
❖ Great memory
Yvain has a great memory, he will not forget a favor he gave someone even well past a few years time. His ability to remember faces upon a single instance is something he has found to be quite useful within the ambitious viper's pit he usually resides in.
W E A K N E S S E S & F L A W S
❖ Might makes Right
Yvain is a believer of the philosophy that the strong should lead and the weak should follow. This believe set is somewhat twisted in the sense that he feels only the nobility deserves to be strong, causing him to have disdain for any strong commoners.
❖ cruel
Although he is not the sort to truly get violent if listened to. However, if he is pushed over the edge he will show no concern for the pain he might inflict on the target of his anger.
❖ Stubborn
Some may come to find it difficult to change his perspective on things once Yvain has made up his mind on a subject
❖ Petty
Although he is a man nurtured around the ideas of fairness he can not help himself from being rather petty from time to time.
M I S C E L L A N E O U S
❖ He has a soft spot for cute animals
❖ He has a pet dog named Perceval
❖ He secretly has an incredible intrigue for regions outside of Constantia. He will however never admit to it.