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The Hinterlandish Succession

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The journey had been long and arduous, back from the Crown Isle. Duke Albaer Ravenstad had much to ponder over, locked within his Cabin aboard a Leutz made flag-ship. Brichaud came into view from the deck of the oaken vessel: yet without the usual applaud, or cheer at the sight of their homeland, the sailor remained mellow, and silent. The Old Duke, now assisted by a walking cane, and covered in a sickly visage, made his way slowly to a carriage, bound for his Dukedom. ​

Awaited by lines of servants, and Leutz Commanders, Albaer marched on to the grand halls of the Lyon Fold's Palatial Seat. There was no pomp, nor ceremony, which remained out of the ordinary for the Leutzmen, and their flowery ways. Instead, the old man greeted his eldest son on the long walk through the palace halls, and retreated to his Office for many hours. Not until the sun has almost set, was the Duke seen again that evening.​

Albaer presented himself upon a large marble balcony, traced by his balded son, Helmuth. The young man carried a similar sunken expression as his father as he looked over the crowd that had gathered, among the Palace Gardens. Albaer began to speak to the growing crowd, the militarism in his voice lowered to an apologetic, almost pitiful tone, to be expected in an old grandfather of a fishmonger.​

"My people! - I come to you in humble manner. I have lived a life of rulership. From my youngest days, I have shepherded this land, from its days within the Hinterlandish Lordship, to its mighty days, as a Duchal province. YEY.. It is time.. That I say.. Goodbye."​

The crowd would emass themselves in murmurs, sharp, and dull, all in tone with one another. The crowd yet again grew silent, allowing the grey Duke to continue. ​

"Henceforth, I step aside for younger, stronger, blood. In accordance with Hinterlandish succession, I abdicate the Ducal seat, to my son. Duke Helmuth Adel Ravenstad I, will rule with the determination he has maintained as Lord Heir. I have served you all with the fullest of my strength, but now I must do as all must - and recline in my twilight years."​

At this, the Duke resigned the stage to his son. There would be feasting, speeches, and festivity that night, within the Lyon Fold, though an air of apprehension could all around be felt. Two successions, within such a small frame. The air was truly tense.

-The realm would swiftly be notified of these changes to the Duchy of The Lyon Fold's rule,
all Great Houses finding a Raven in their message box-
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AntonVoron
AntonVoron
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