You would be hard pressed to find a Regalian in the capital that had not witnessed the early snow - much like it had come too soon last year. Obviously this raised some concerns, though the weather pattern of the city itself wasn’t the only curious part. Regalia itself was blanketed in snow, but just across the narrow Anglian Sea, the whole landmass of Anglia, Dorinn and the north of Dragenthal were drenched in a perpetual rainfall that simply did not cease, a far cry from the snow flurries that struck Regalia. The rain was so never-ending that the banks of the Axl river broke and flooded most of the lowland, while rockslides in Dorinn became ever more frequent, the local visiting population evcuating for the southern shores of Vultaro to escape the torrents. And yet, in other areas of the Archipelago where rain was common, Brissiauds and Gallovia, not a single drop fell. This raincloud that strung itself over the northwestern part of the archipelago was in fact so large that the dark clouds could be seen all the way from Regalia and Calemberg. Anglia was literally drowning, and the people spoke blessings to the Spirit that these freak rainstorms hadn’t occurred during the harvest or planting season, for it would surely spell famine and doom on the Empire’s food supplies. The State attempted to find some sort of solution, the Scholar’s Court had indeed still been in disarray from the destruction of their headquarters and archive underneath the Imperial Palace, but had sent scholars with devices to Anglia to study the rain. Their tests all came back negative, none of the weather patterns had anything to do with Void or Exist Essences, there was no sizable buildup or indeed any trace of either planar essences present, excluding the possibility of a magical nature in the never ending rainfall. Meanwhile, the situation in the capital and the lands beyond became more tense. Race riots broke out against the Elves in particular, but a true lynch hunt against the Silven also started as soon as the Imperial Steward issued a proclamation to encourage all states to arrest their Silven populations. Lusits and Ithania silently complied, while Nordskag and Daendroc’s inhabitants started a vilified crusade to justifix the Silvens they could find, assuming they had been targeted by the Steward as the source of the destruction of the Imperial Palace. In the capital itself yet, the lack of a response from the newly appointed Proconsul or the Assembly caused a public stir. Originally the people had been coaxed into believing the explosion was a mere gunpowder accident, but the never ending zeal of citizens who wanted to blame the Elven traitors started taking hold in the poorer areas of the city, most notably those who had recently suffered casualties from their population in the recent battles. Elsewhere, the civil war between the Massya’s of Songaskia proved to be a stalemate. The young Massya was in control of the looted and devastated western pearl cities, albeit with a larger army, but his usurper anti-Regalian uncle still controlled the vast majority of the eastern cities that were deep in the heart of the deserts. In the north. The Isldar invasion against the Dwarven holds cracked, the great doors were destroyed and Isldar host after Isldar host marched into the halls of Dwarves. A three day carnage ensued before Anduin lie in ruin, the vast majority of the surviving Dwarven population being brought in chains and marched off as slaves into the interior of Ellador. With the hold of Anduin destroyed, only Grebor, last home of the Dwarves remained, those Dwarves there-in that rigged their entire hold with explosives. They had resolved that their race would not perish in the slave camps of the Isldar, but that they would go down with such a mighty blow so as to take much of the Isldar army with them. Luckily for them, the Isldar made no clear move against them yet. It seemed there was no end to conflict and carnage in the world, even after the Bone Horror Crisis, instabilities across all continents continued to thrive. The youngest conflict of them all appeared to be centered in Sendrass: Something had caused the Sendrassian Empire to descend into a five way civil war seeing hosts of Mu-Allar descending upon each other. While officially part of the Crown Alliance and allied in the war against the Elves, the Allar considered mounting an army of their own to try and use the chaos in Sendras to reclaim a vast portion of the jungle that they had lost centuries ago during their flight from Sendras. Similarly, the Shadow Elves made their first move against the eastern most isolated Regalian realm, the Principality of l’Elvellen and seized village after village, sacrificing the entire Human and Elven populations indiscriminately to their Void Gods. With urgency, the multifront war in Regalia became more and more pressing, and the recent losses had costed much of the military personnel the state had available. Within what was left of the Imperial Court, the envoys and personal ministers of the Emperor urged the Imperial Steward to contact the Emperor to return to Regalia, victorious or not, so as to replenish the lost soldiers with the huge army he took with him into the east. Certainly he would not arrive quickly, but given the global situation for any and all countries, Regalia seriously needed every last bit of manpower it could get its hands on to weather the storms.
For once, no smile could be found on Frida’s face. She hobbled back to the bar, and began to drink. Silently and stoically drinking her cares away...
Conf Ladveer pulled his jacket closed, wishing he had thought to wear thicker pants today. His legs were freezing. On his shoulder, Brenia the raven 'cronk'ed loudly, not seeming nearly as bothered by the winter weather.
Edmund Karhter sat in his parlor, contemplating how Regalia would prevail in this multifront war. Maybe it was time for him to join the battle? He had remained out of military conflicts for far too long. Edmund sat in his chair for quite a while, before deciding that he needed to do something. He was going to go to the battlefront.
Upon hearing about the dwarves, Bronwyn's face fell as she stood still. Slavery. Such a terrible fate caused hatred to burn in her chest. Isldar. Fockin' icy knife-ears. A pang of grief settled in her heart with the knowledge of her dwarven pride. If only she could fix this. A shiver from sudden windchill reminded the impoverished dwarf of her place in society. She could only hope she wouldn't have to fear the same treatment being transferred in Regalia. Little Wyn scurried off as fast as she could to tell Nikki the news. @Magivore
Katrina, upon hearing the news, gave a silent gleeful fistpump upon hearing the news. Of course, she knew her kind would prevail, and boy did it feel good. She'd continue life as usual in Regalia with a neutral outlook; the cold never bothered her anyway. And then she realised the number of dwarves in Regalia. She'd rush to her family who resided within it's walls. "Lock the doors, draw the curtains. Nobody travels alone from now on, clear?"
The fire crackled and sparked as another log was added to the flames. Seraphina placed her hand upon the mantel, staring in at the flames as her mind wandered to the war. What to do? Where to go? To stay or to go? She raised her head as she heard the soft footfalls and soft hush of voices. “Another time to decide.” She mused.
Shen Zhi let a deep sigh escape him as he read over the Regalian herald. “Will there be no end to this discord?” He called out for Shimazu to go fetch some ruby flower from the apothecary as he closed the paper and strode over to his brewing stands. Nothing he could do about it anyway.
Eirain gently smoothed out the fabric of her dress. Scribbling down an order for thicker gowns in order to fight the cold weather which had befell Regalia. Rubbing her hands together, which were wrapped in black velvet gloves. She was tempted to contact her friend Katrina, but ultimately decided against it. "Ah yes. Elves. That's enough of that then." @Emo_Bunny
Skjáld let out a mighty roar as he beat the glowing metal with his hammer, Aldruin would be avenged, Grebor would not fall! These thoughts domanated his mind as he envisioned the metal as the skull of a Ialdar.
As Gideon sat in his cell, awaiting verdict, he ran a finger under his chin thoughtfully while the news filtered in. "Distruption," he'd sigh "Disorder, general anarchy. Though, presuming I get out of here, that makes good for a soldier's career."
"Shifting tides and storms belay the stagnancy of a hard-pressed war - an ill omen to be sure." "Ironic that land once blessed by the rainfall of Drakkens so blue now drowns in excess." "How much can the word of haphazard Scholars be trusted, having torn a hole in their own hearts through means of grevious meddling, I wonder." "What would you make of it, 'Farasha'? 'Yaraea'?" @Icaruscien @Lumiess
When Alexander heard the news he was staring at the sea, he began to think aloud "I wonder if the little town I was raised in was affected by the recent events, it was quite close to Anduin..." His thought was interrupted by the sound of a kettle steaming, he grinned at the thought, "Guess that people really do get what they deserve..."
Otto Bergmann smiled at the mention of Elves being (rightfully) blamed. "Let's hope more Regalians awaken to the menace they are," he muttered.
Serihilde Heinrich gave a sigh, "The Heinrichs' are such a small picture, with our measly army getting crushed. I will change this."
Susumu Yi, at hearing of the strife in Sendras, suddenly perked up. The chance to visit the Allar's true homeland was exciting to him, especially if it meant being able to escape the status he long held in Regalia. It was certainly better than the strife that constantly engulfed Hadar, and the inhospitable and violent conditions elsewhere in the world. Maybe, he thought, if there was an army being sent to Sendras, he might consider joining it, to secure a place for his fellow Allar kin. After this dreadful weather of course. It reminded him too much of the ball, three years prior.
Tobie stared at the reports of the Scholars, scratching his head in confusion. It took him some time to get over the fact that the Brissiauds were dry, seemingly dumbfounded at the thought. He read on without an ounce of compassion for those in trouble, well, for none but one and his voice soon carried down the halls of the estate as he thought of his friend "Mae.." It didn't take long for news of these happenings to reach Marley as the cruel man sat afront his desk, counting many an individual coin into his personal lockbox. "And so it begins. The poor beg for my money and people request charity from me, business is my business and man is naught to me." The rather grim man became sidetracked "Four Hundred and Ninety Nine.." Then plopping one last coin into the box. "Five Hundred. I have said my piece and let that be an end to it, if people wish not to seek jobs or refuse the workhouses, let them die and decrease the surplus population."
Nikkidroth sobbed heavily within the confines of his smithy. This was no delicate weeping that many noble widows would have, but it was one that was loud and as full of snot as it was curses. How could you possibly live among such terrible things such as the Frost Horrors? He had no thought over the many bruises he had gotten from earlier on in the day from the many fights he started among friend and foe alike. His mind was chained down in a prison of anger; a curse to endlessly relive his horrible past was afflicting him. How could you possibly live among such terrible things? The Dwarves were outnumbered in both the slums and in Ellador. All that was once history could now only be stained in Dwarvish blood. So much did he wish that the thought of becoming a myth were not so possible! Among his loud cry came only a fractured piece of what was once such a long question which was yelled so boisterously that the Wyverns of Grebor (and his poor neighbours trying to sleep) could hear it. "How could you?!
Nouveau blinked, features blank as she contemplated Regalia’s recent struggles, as well as the disgusting things her kin was doing. She scoffed, settling her mismatched gaze upon her lightly enlarged abdomen, gingerly kneading at the bump. “Things will be better by the time you’re here, mon amour.”
