@MonMarty Was it not both the Supreme Reverend and the Arch-Chancellor who were in charge? It was stated as so in the thread “State of Emergency Declared in Regalia”, or something along those lines. Now that the council has taken over to fill in for the Arch-Chancellor, what is the Supreme Reverend’s position and authority in Regalia plus his relations with the current ruling body?
While Jin Fong hurried on to the family ship, after a lengthy discussion with his foolhardy brother, a familiar face slithered it's way up the ship's hull and into the Good Doctor's quarters. The shape left after a moment, leaping over the side of the ship and plunging into the sea, reemerging silently in the poor district harbor. The shape found its way to the Doctor's Manor, a bit unsteady on its feet, having been away from solid ground so long. The manor's door opened to the shape's key. Wet footprints were left leading up to the long-unused private pool on the manor's upper floor. The rustling sound of unusual fabrics could have been heard, had anyone been inside to listen. As well the bubbling of a brewing-stand and the scrape of a blade drawn from its scabbard after many months. The shape left this room, standing far more erect now. It walked out the front door, cloaked in faded red with a blade at its hip. One good eye twinkled above a jagged grin. It was good to be back. Ol' Morei missed this bleedin' city.
-={ T }- Tevic Uriomir -{ T }=-After finally arriving back in the holy city, Tevic glanced about as he watched men, women, and children fleeing aboard small vessels. His eyes locked from person to person, noticing the fear that coursed through their pupils as they boarded their ships. He would give a slight chuckle at this, before turning his gaze to the horizon behind him, narrowing his eyes at the orange, yet crimson, dawn. "Peace before the storm...the true fight is about to commence," he uttered in a quiet tone, before disappearing into the city.
What is with all you people suddenly losing hope and quitting? Geez. Here, some inspirational music is what you need. Spoiler: Inspirational Music
"En garde." The Lord of Calemberg raised his dulled blade, inspecting his opponents stance. The Qadir stood a few feet ahead, his own dulled saber held loosely and sloppily as he stared back at the Knight with a blank expression. Ulric released a soft sigh, shaking his head as he lowered the saber to his side. Even if he was imprisoned on some mountainous rock surrounded by hoards of heathens and heretics, that would not stop him from his daily sparring practice. Though perhaps it was a pointless gesture. "Oh to the void with it.. Why don't you go prepare some bloody tea or something..? I'm growing rather parched." The Qadir dropped the saber, grunting as he turned away to leave the private quarters of the Lord's cell. The darkskin struggled with common, but he assumed that the menace would at least be able to comprehend an order that simple. Setting the dulled out saber to his side, Ulric ambled over to the table at the center of the room, undoing the buttons of his slightly dirtied coat before slinging over the rear of the chair. It wasn't all bad, he supposed. He had private quarters, away from the rest of the failures who had attempted to rescue him previously, personal servants, who while slightly incompetent to the aged knight, fulfilled their tasks with only the occasional mutter. They even offered him fine foods, a stark contrast to the mere rations that were offered to the rest of the prisoners. But all the while, it was quite akin to torture. He longed for the presence of his consort, his son, his nephew. Ulric gave another deflating sigh, moving a hand up to rub his forehead as he stared off into space. His thoughts were interrupted as the soft metal screech of the cell door seethed through the room. Taking his time, his Qadir servant placed a small cup of steaming tea and a faded white slip of parchment on the table before him, before exiting as casually as he had come. Shutting the door behind him, of course. Ulric furrowed his eyebrows, frowning down at the parchment for a moment, before promptly unfolding it as he took a quick sip from his cup of tea. Then, the Lord paused. Another failed rescue attempt, the Crown Prince fleeing, and the loss of his office as chancellor. Giving a short grunt, he promptly tossed the letter farther down the table. He had assumed that the Imperial Administration would relive him of his duties as Chancellor sooner or later. They certainly wouldn't want a man with the power to solidify the Sultan's claims on the Regalian Isle within the Sultanate's clutches. But the Crown Prince fleeing the archipelago? He certainly wasn't a man to question the Emepror's judgement, but even then, it certainly wasn't the wisest of choices. The citizens would be asking questions, no doubt. Regardless, that was beyond any of his control here. Ulric calmly raised the teacup to his lips, finishing the last of it's contents before slowly leaning back. It was going to be a long week.
Quick question: Where are the orc soldiers being sent to? To Regalia, or to protect the Deanshores from Qadir?
Julian sat inside his office in the Imperial Palace, twiddling a dry pen in his hand. He flicked the rod so that it would tumble through the air, catching it as it fell down. He'd opted not to accompany the main-line to the Angle Lands, and he was regretting the choice out of boredom if not safety reasons. He made it to thirty-four tosses of his pen before he missed his catch, letting the tool drop onto the varnished mahogany desktop with a dull clatter. A soft sound, but the absence of noise in the palace made it sound like an explosion. Even the servants weren't murmuring like usual - One could easily think themselves the only silent soul in the palace. Julian frowned, clasping the arms of his chair as he lifted his rear off of the cushion so that he could awkwardly shuffle the seat to face the window. Perhaps he'd leave as well; not the city, but the palace. He'd wanted to lay low after recent events.
Meanwhile in the Qadir prison, trent was debating , now that things most likely were about to get intense would people flee regalia? If they did they would most likely take all valuables with them and the few that stayed behind would get slaughtered if an attack came. He turned to all others in the cell before quietly saying to all of them "We need to get out of here, for I fear a battle is coming and it's best to be ready for it"
Kemion knew the man was right, and that even if they escaped, would they stay in Regalia? Even now, Kemion was thinking of a plan to escape, one that would get all of them out of here, so he made his choice. "Excuse me sir," Kemion said to Trent, "Could you help me think of an escape plan? Regalia needs us, and I can't sit here if the Qadir are going to invade." He then looks to the rest of his cellmates. " When we get out of here, I need to ask you all one thing: will you stay or will you go?"
I forgot to put this: don't judge me i thought of this when I read that I got hit by a brick BRICKS AREn"T FUN
Stephan Valor docks his personal vessel "The Huntsman". Upon stepping upon the docks an old informat of his would quickly tell him of the news. Stephan only listened until he heard that Victoria was safe. He would then head towards the poor district to speak with yet another informat who told him that his connections of thieves had taken anything left by the Nobility that was of value. Stephan would glance at a poster left by Dr, Fong, causing him to chuckle. "Something funny sir." Stephan would recognize the voice as his butler Sebastians. "Quite, I find it amusing that the Nobility would be so quick to respond to such a vague sign." Stephan would say more to himself than his butler. "Surely you will follow your family back home?" Sebastian would ask with an eyebrow raised. "Of course, I must however attend to a few matters beforehand." With that said Stephan would walk down the street towards the tavern, Sebastian following closely behind remaining in the shadows.
Spoiler: Dancing in the Night After stuffing another turkey-and-cheese sandwich into her bag and slinging it onto her back, Allium started off at a swift walk, away from the city. However, unlike almost everyone else she knew by sight, she didn't head towards the harbor. She headed off into Regalia's wilderness. A few hours of climbing, hiking, and swimming later, she reached the Old Cart. One wheel had broken off of it sometime long ago, and it had been abandoned at the top of a waterfall in the eastern mountains. A secluded place where she could be alone. The horrors of war would be coming to the city any day now. Even the brightest beacon of holiness would not stop the zeal of the sun and its worshippers. Fear welled up in those purplish blue eyes, but the sixteen-year-old girl didn't let it show. She reached into the very bottom of her pack, and pulled out a long stick with a ball wrapped in cloth at the end. Very carefully, she unwrapped the cloth, slowly revealing the metal sphere studded with three short spikes. Her morningstar. Perched on the end of the cart, the morningstar behind her, she watched the sun set, and thought about the events of the last few days. "The nobility... They're leaving. Everyone's leaving. They're cutting their losses and pulling out. All is lost." She paused to think about her statements. "No. It isn't. Even if Regalia's future rests entirely on my shoulders. IT'S NEVER LOST!!" She was speaking very fast now. "The battle will continue. We can't just let them win. I'll fight until I can't fight anymore. I'll do whatever I can. I'll pretend to be a man to help defend Regalia. It isn't lost. It's never lost." One hand, then the other, closed over the hilt of her morningstar. Allium stepped onto the small plateau near the waterfall. She pictured an opponent for a sparring match, raised her weapon in acknowledgement, and twirled into the fray, striking, feinting, and blocking. A deadly and delicate dance. Also... y'all royalty and the like are going west? To Ithania? To Guldar? To... no. Don't go there. Don't even think about going there. It's not that desperate anyway. I seriously hope the plan isn't to sail off into oblivion and go there. I hope the plan is Ithania. Or even Guldar. Just don't... go... THERE. Yet.
