Joyau-vert du NordThe weeks of occupation in Regalia had almost made the citizens and invaders believe that the world did not continue to move around them. On the contrary, forces were strongly at work in the background and the war between Regalia and Qadiriyye was about to take a larger turn. The Crown Prince had decreed the new official capital of Regalia was Joyau-vert du Nord, a pristine Ithanian city in the northern half of Ithania. The city was formally the seat of the Reau de l'édificièrre Princes, who graciously accepted their displacement trough a heavy payment made from the Regalian Treasury. Over the next weeks, the Crown Prince and the ministers who had fled with the Imperial administration worked tirelessly to reinvigorate old treaties and forge new ones to tip the balance in this war. The true turning point came at the marriage announcement between the Crown Prince himself and the Queen of Lusits, Juliana Desidèria Joana Carlota de Lobo, the "Mad Queen" of Lusits. With the political marriage secured, the entire army of the colonial south and the autonomous kingdoms of the middle and north Daendroquin areas, the Queen seized the vast majority of the Ithanian yachts and merchant ships to load tens of thousands of troops. Contrary to what the Qadir expected however, the fleet did not sail for Regalia. In fact the fleet sailed with a large arch around Regalia, and landed in the Caliphene Republic on the south of New Ceardia. With the Imperial engaged couple in ceremonial armor at the head, the army immediately started a local campaign in cooperation with the Caliphene troops against the Heraatz Rebels. The Pashtallah of Qadiriyye was infuriated and immediately declared war on the Caliphene Republic, though many would call this a farce as Qadiriyye had officially supported the Heraatz Rebels for years. Sending troops into Caliphene, the Qadir immediately made beach head against the weakened Caliphene defenses. To further complicate the political situation, The Hadravian state suddenly and unexpectedly turned against Qadiriyye and invaded Osmanliyye, which was virtually ran over within a week. The Emirate of Saruhanna mobilized it's troops to the south and send them north, officially declaring war against the Hadravian state. The Qadir were now involved in a three way war, on one end occupying Regalia, on one end assisting the Heraatz Rebels in Caliphene, and on the far east send troops to aid Saruhanna against the Hadravian state. The Silver Shores Kingdom and the Republic of Dormin also mobilized their armies, though did not strike in favor of either side, simply shutting down the southern borders to prevent the war from spilling into their land. In Regalia meanwhile the occupation started running into trouble. In the Kade homeland of Anglia in particular, civil disobedience was strong and the first industries to suffer were the Testamere Tea fields. Lamperouge annexation of south Anglia did not go overly well and Qadir troops spent much effort containing riots and minor insurrections in the rural areas. The Blockade of Qadir occupied Regalia had meanwhile proven less effective than hoped. Caliphene and Hadravian Qadirs had themselves moved to Regalia, seeing opportunity for coin as they set up smuggling rings and escape routes in and out of the city. While there was no free movement for slaves (as these Qadir refused to aid slaves in their escape due to their religion), any other non Qadir was now free to move in and out of the city, though at a price of coin of course. The area worst struck by riots was Calemberg, where a large fire that started in the poor district swallowed nearly half the historical capital of the Lordship. Similarly the Vultaro regions and the southern Girobalda regions shut down as well. The shipyards in Girobalda itself stopped to function as labor refused to show up, and the Vultaro coal mines once more shut down. With the war expanding, forces on both sides started getting restless. The temporal peace in the Imperial city itself was carried with a bittersweet taste as the rest of the world started devolving into war. Decades of political conflict and opposition between states had suddenly erupted in a massive world wide conflict now that the perceived threat of the Void Invasion was gone. Fighting had erupted in New Ceardia, Farah'deen and the Isles of Faradh. Daendroque and Ithania had gone to war, and the southern regions of Ellador started feeling the pressure to do something as well. Who would the other independent states side with? Whichever victor of this war would dictate the political stability of the world to come.
Mariana perked up in joy as she hears this news, finally she could get out of the city and maybe go back t- *reaches the part where they wouldn't help slaves* she immediately sulked back upon that part, maybe she could try to persuade her master to leave and take her with him? @Bounden Teresa jumped at the news and hugging Rythian in joy, the qadirs are finally getting what's coming for them, invading the holy city. She decorated the manor with regalian flags, played their anthem all day long, and even donated some of her wealth to support their cause. Go Regalia! Hooray! Hooray! Hooray! *insert cheerleaders here* @Artemis_Hanzo Roxanne lied in her bed sniffling from her cold, but as the news reached her ears she cracked a small smile. "That was a clever move" she said. "That was a really clever move". She sneezed again and her boring days of recovery continued on. Gustav and his friends sat together in his workshop and they were like @skernzy @Elterys And I was like
Ulric Typhonus slammed his fist down on the desk before him, causing a few ink pots and a loose quill to quiver faintly. A report from his staff within the city of Calemberg had arrived, and it was not what the ex-Lord had been expecting to be interrupted by. His hapless people were in a state of agitation and worry, half of his Lordship's seat had been burned to the ground, and the Crown Prince was busy with deeper politics far from the Archipelago. Slowly, the Knight's temper subsided, and he withered back into the soft velvet of his chair. A servant standing at the edge of the room perked up, taking a hesitant step forward in the ex-Lord's direction. "Your Grace, are you feeling well..?", the servant pondered faintly. Ulric looked up, straightening his posture as the servant addressed him. "For the time, I suppose. Now if you would be so kind as to retrieve your quill and parchment, I've a task for you." The Knight brushed away the clutter atop the center of his desk, taking a slow breath to clear his head. The safety and well being of his people was his top priority, Alexander I himself spoke those words to him months ago, and he was not about to let his home and it's citizens fall into a state of disarray. He sat forward as the servant returned, taking another slow breath. "Ready for my word.." Notices began to spring up around the city of Calemberg. Upon public notice boards, the walls of popular public establishments, and the ornate doors of the Calemberger Dom Unionist Cathedral. Bearing the forest green seal of their noble liege, curious citizens who decided to linger closer would read... To the citizens of the City of Calemberg and the surrounding regions, My fellow citizens, it has been a mere four weeks since the forces of the Qadiriyye took control of the Imperial Seat and it's holdings within the Regalian Archipelago. Many of our brothers, fathers, and sons answered the call to arms to aid in this conflict, risking capture, torture, and their very lives to keep Calemberg and their Empire safe. And even now, we must not let their sacrifice go in vain. Calemberg has remained unified and strong, even through the Battle of Calemberg and the Santorski occupation that followed, and we must not let that change now. Rioting throughout the streets and torching whatever you see will not ensure us strength for the future. The damages from the city's fire can and will be repaired, for so long as I am your liege, your well being is my highest priority. But for now, we must remain stalwart as we always have, retaining our faith in the holy Imperial Spirit and carrying on even under the odds that have been forced upon us. With my highest regards, Duke Ulric Thane Typhonus @MonMarty @babayonce
The dull claws of hunger tore up her insides. She tried to count the days, initially. That proved a silly notion later on, though, as it only served to heighten her dread. She was alone in her tiny cell, her grandson ripped from her arms by the gold-eyed heathens. The memory still haunted her. His nails digging into her arms, the tears pouring from his eyes and the sobs wracking both their bodies -- a gruesome experience for them both. She knew they'd use him as a puppet for administration -- sate the masses and ease the self-declared annexation of the archipel. She only knew as much from what little information she was fed via secret message in her stale bread loaves. Even then, though, she still struggled whether to believe those dusty little parchments. Mayhaps it was some cruel jape, one to torture a tormented crone, alone and frightened in her little stone box. Her stomach murmured its complaint. Another loaf lay by her door, supposedly set there before she woke just hours ago. Doubtless it was tough as the granite that surrounded her, and doubtless it held another message -- it's been weeks, after all. Perhaps that was just the optimism getting to her, if she could even consider it optimism. Mayhaps it was her own sort of jest, a quaint farce to give her something to look forward to. She's abandoned her prayers, spending her days staring blankly at walls. She blinked, her hand trembling over her boisterous belly. Her hands were so small, her fingers so skinny... She made a mad snatch at the stale loaf, as if it'd disappear in front of her. Through a few dry sobs she ripped the accursed thing apart, a lovely snow of hard crumbs flying everywhere. That was a friendly memory -- Regalia's snows. There it was: a thin, tightly rolled parchment. She clenched it tightly. If she only the tears would come, she'd be weeping. With a delicacy completely contrasting her savagery just moments ago, she unrolled the letter and scanned over its rushed scribbles: She blinked at the words, only reading them once before she stuffed the note in her mouth, swallowing it in a single animalistic gulp. She slide back to the one, her bottom and legs growing cold from the hard floor -- when did she fall? She drew a few heavy breaths, shaking her head. She didn't pray.
With the shift in power raging outside the city, the consequential cost to the imprisoned civilians was evident as more injured arrived in droves at a time. If the elf wasn’t stitching slashes and lashes on slaves backs together, she was filling holes in the shells of Mekket, or treating more- sensitive- injuries behind closed doors. Every day she’d fall into her chair looking as pale as the undead themselves. But now even sleep could not grant her true comfort as a solo man’s cryptic conversations give the elf pause. If the true rulers of Regalia did return... would things become better? Would all her enslaved friends be freed? Would she be hauled away in chains regardless because of her decent or ‘special talents’? These worries and more melt from her mind as another shout from down stairs calls the healer to see to yet another victim. She feels a hand on her shoulder- asking if she was good to handle it. The elf can only smile, “I must. There’s no one else in the House today.” They do not stop her, only watch as she struggles down the stairs carrying her supplies. They betray the state, by uttering a prayer to Estel in their own mind for her saftey.
CHRISTOPHER BLACK He lay on the stone floor, arms behind his head in the form of a make-shift pillow, staring up at the stone-bricked ceiling. He'd already counted all of the bricks in that roof. There were a hundred and ninety-four. How many days had he been here now exactly? Not a hundred and ninety-four yet. It'd been more than a week or two though, definitely. He exhaled and rolled his eyes over to the iron-barred door that inhibited him, then down to the empty plate that lay on the floor beside it. A few hours ago, the plate had held a portion of mediocre food: stale bread, a slice of gristly venison and some potatoes. There was a pitcher of flat ale too. His stomach rumbled. He stood up. Misery wasn't going to overtake him yet. He did a few jogs on the spot. At least he'd try to keep his fitness up. Then the bird came. It was just another flea-ridden pigeon, landing on the iron-barred window ledge. It was a lucky fellow, with its wings and its freedom. He watched it for a while. It had something stuck to its leg. It must have gotten caught on a bit of rubbish or something. He went over to investigate, carefully though, so that he wouldn't frighten it away. The pigeon didn't seem to mind his presence, allowing him to take what he now realised was a little roll of paper, tied with a little piece of string, from its leg. He unrolled the tiny scroll. "Opposition to pledges. Riots in Calemberg, Anglia, Vultaro, Girobaldo. Non-Qadir movement in and out of the city." "What?..." How many of these notes had he already missed? Christopher Black stood motionless for a while, only half aware of the pigeon flying off. He then recovered his composure, swallowed the paper, and returned to his lying down position on the cell floor; once again, staring up at the ceiling. The bleakness that had surrounded everything only moments before, though, had seemed to have lifted. It had been replaced, even if fleeting, by something resembling hope.
Kemion AlvarisThe alias and the disguise as Richard DeVolio had worked so far, but Kemion wasn't sure how long it would be until he was eventually caught by the Qadir. He knew exactly what would happen if he was captured: They would lock him up, accuse him of conspiracy against the state, along with being a traitor to the Qadir, and then execute him. All of this because of his true loyalty to the crown! He was a bodyguard of House Black, and a true Regalian nationalist, he would never surrender to any foreign regime, now matter how powerful! He would find ways to break out Chris, and then find a way to get to this new capital of the Empire with the remainders of House Black. For now, he kept himself out of trouble, knowing that one day, Regalia will be freed from the grasp of the Sultanate.
Rythian Belledin, Smiles as he hugs his wife watches her dance around smiling and dancing with her odd looking for the large man he can finally see his daughter and grand daughter. @LlamaDelRey , @Death_Thorn
Y'all really need to stop reserving posts. This thread was filled with reserved posts after release. And it's still half filled with them.
I agree with Marty's statement, Ain't nobody going to constantly check if you wrote down a response. Just post it when it is written, or within a short time at the very least. <:
I think you should only reserve if it is a special rank in light roleplay or something like that, not when there is nothing to be gained from reserving.
Lennox was sitting around when he heard the news of more wars. He chuckled to himself and began thinking on whether or not he should just go live in Jorhilldr, it'd probably be much more welcoming. He then ate a berry and forgot what he was thinking about.
Damon Constantine Sictor response The man laughed hysterically when he got the news. Had he gone mad? The laughter continued. The servant looked worried "Signore?" he said to his master. Damons laughter all but stopped, it being a mere chatter now. He looked to the Servant and cleared his throat "Gather my things and send for Sarah. We need attend to Talosia." The servant bowed and left Damon Sat in his seat and chuckled "Eheh ehe hehe" The laughter could be seen as insanity peaking in the Ailor but no. His laughter was for the complete chaos that was Aloria now. His laughter was to the fact that states now fought simply because of Regalia's war with the qadir. Well he knew that wasn't true. National unease was always apparent. These wars would have come no matter what but now everything was escalated. Once out of Regalia he would hope to send a letter to the new capital and attempt to inform them on some of the matters in Regalia. Perhaps that would be too little, perhaps he should go to the capital. a silent sigh came from between his lips. He had no reason to help, perhaps he should just sit on the sidelines. No. He would not let past failures be the end of him. The world was going to the void and he wanted to assist. ~*~ Once out of Regalia and in his home within Talosia Damon wrote a letter to be sent to the Regalian military: Dear Generals of the Regalian military Despite my past failures I wish to aid you in this war once again. I hold training in Tactics and I can assist you. I wish to set up a meeting as soon as possible. Until then I shall travel fluidly between Regalia and my home, Talosia. I hope to gather important information for your cause. Until then, this is the alst letter I shall send to you Sincerely Damon Constantine Sictor@MonMarty
Ludwig Fuchs Ludwig’s gaze was focused onto the ceiling as he lied in the bed of his noble cell, his hands neatly placed onto the back of his head. At least this was somewhat comfortable, and for once in a while he had the opportunity to relax in a somewhat peaceful environment. He has spent hours, if not days constantly in this position. He was thinking about everything, reflecting his entire life, specifically its highlights. How was his family in Daendroc doing right now? How would Helena feel without him? Elisabeth must constantly be on her side to offer her comfort. Finally, it was about time his meal would arrive. He slowly brings himself out of his bed, bringing himself over to where the plate was. There was no need to hurry, after all. The earl returns to the bed, the plate resting in his lap. Not having eye contact to his meal, he rips off a part of the bread loaf and stuffs it into his mouth, his gaze focused onto the wall as a frown suddenly begun to form on his features. Opening his mouth, he pulls a small piece of paper. “Small notes hidden in food? Did they arrange a Ch’ien-Ji chef?” he thought to himself, before reading what the note would say. “New Capital: Ithania -- Crown prince married to Lusits -- War continues to east and west” Really? He couldn’t believe they fell the decision to move to the home of the disgusting boylovers. The frown from earlier didn’t fade; it only grew much bigger as he read the news. Lusits? That is where Helena is currently spending her time. Hopefully she was completely away from any threats there. Disgruntled, he looks from the left to the right, trying to find a good spot to hide the note. “The bushes outside, they should do.” Ludwig thought, tossing it out between the metal bars after making sure there are no Qadir who could possibly notice this action, or find the letter later. Swallowing it would have been an option, but he doubted the ink and paper would taste very nice. As the once Grand Commander finished his meal, he stretches his limbs to warm up with a quick series of push-ups. There was nothing better to do, after all, and his muscles already increased quite a bit in the time he spent here.
Madame Gratch had long since forgotten the feeling of a tender smile upon her face. Her wrinkles now only aligned in a feirce scowl to those around her. She hobbled along the cobbled streets with a shake to her posture, an itching unsurety. Her black gown felt ironically fitting for the death of her freedom, and the mourning of the lives lost in pitty fights amongst the street's - Under the blue-cut light of the Alorian moon. This city was old, older than even she. She had seen the come and go of many faces, the movement of countless shops. Madame Gratch had long since forgotten the face of her husband. Amongst the chaotic events of the past days, even the memories of distant loved once had faded into the murky cloud of her thoughts. She needed him, that faceless man. Someone to hold, someone to cling to. She'd never say it, though. Her appearence in the city had always been strict and profesional. She missed the smiles of the children playing amongst the alley ways and vine-ridden buildings, it seemed to serve as fitting background to the busy beauty of the city, her city. She held back the tears as she walked, making sure to keep her posture strong. She'd gut a Quadir who'd even attempt to communicate, her hatred bubbled up inside like a steaming kettle - A sassy one. She wanted her regalia back. The one she'd seen for countless years. Everything was wrong - Her ancient heart couldn't take it much longer.
Abrihet sighed. Oh, sun, Aloria was breaking out in chaos. She was sitting in her rather comfortable quarters on her Boum when it came to her. Wait. Hold on a second. What was it she always said? Oh yes, Chaos is merely a side effect of a good economy. Time to make mola. This'll be a great two months away from Regalia. Anwar hadn't hindered her plans. He had Helped them. She just had to stay away from Ithania and pick up more weapons. Those ports will be dying for them. Ha, your funny, Abrihet. @SilentsAppeal
So everything is rapidly going to **** because the threat of demonic invasion is gone, huh? But the statue... The statue isn't gone... This could go to **** even faster very quickly...
